#this was supposed to be angsty but look at how cute she is

[starkeyisthelastname]

stepbro rafe being there when the baby was born but not being able to do anything that a father would bc the family is also in the room

(This is a little angsty, poor Rafe. 😭)

Rafe found himself in a surreal experience as your labor progressed. His mind was racing in a thousand different directions as he tried to keep things light, which was incredibly difficult for him. Sitting in the waiting room with Ward, he couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Your mother and Sarah were the only ones in the labor and delivery room with you, and Rafe felt a sense of helplessness. He had to put on a facade of nonchalance, pretending to be engrossed in his phone to distract himself. The impending arrival of his baby weighed heavily on him, and he couldn't shake the feeling of missing out due to the complicated situation the two of you were in.

Rafe hesitated before entering the room, trailing behind Wheeize and his father. He tried to keep his excitement in check as he joined them, stealing glances at the newborn baby who was now in the room and who was his own.

His eyes landed on you, your face still effortlessly beautiful even after going through labor and giving birth. He could tell you were exhausted, but also there was a hint of sadness in those usual sparkly orbs. He knew it was because of the situation, him not being there for you at all throughout your labor. But, what else was he supposed to do?

It wasn’t until he saw his daughter for the first time, Rafe experienced a whole new set of emotions. He hoped no one noticed him staring at the baby who was currently in Wheezie’s arms as her and Sarah gushed out how cute she was. She looked like a doll, that Rafe almost didn’t want to ever get near in afraid of breaking her. At the same time, he also wanted to protect her from everything.

The fact he couldn’t be a father in that room with everyone around was killing him inside. Rafe normally would not give a fuck about his emotions, pushing them down for anger or doing something reckless. His daughter being born now, had him wanting to become a whole new man for not only you but his baby girl. No matter how unhinged he may have been, or how messed up it was that he had gotten his step-sister knocked up, he was determined to be the father Ward Cameron never was to him.

[pretty-little-mind33]

chaser!James Potter x chaser!fem!reader

Summary: James is threatened by how good you are at Quidditch which means he hates you. And what emotion is closer to hate than love?

Genre: Angsty Fluff, 'rivals' to lovers <3

Warnings: James is seriously a dick in the beginning, teasing, slight bullying, swearing, fighting, social class differences, reader is an only child, didn't really understand how Quidditch Captains are appointed but bare with me <3

~ finally finished this! loved this ask anon! thank you, my lovely! ~

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

James Potter is sprawled across the large, maroon, couch in the center of the Gryffindor Common room, his arms draped over the cushions as his legs lay across Sirius Black's lap.

Sirius, who would probably mind more if he wasn't as drunk as his best friend. 

"I mean, fuck me, she wasn't even that good and McGonagall saw her and still looked at her like she'd just hung the moon in the sky!" James exclaims, his ears burning as he recalls Quidditch tryouts that morning. 

He's pissed. 

"You're just annoyed that she just started and now has a chance at Captain because Mini liked her so much," Sirius points out, which earns him a harsh swat on the top of his head.

James's face sours and he restrains himself from whining like a petulant child. Sirius was right, he was mad because you gave him a run for his money and no one has done that until now. 

This was supposed to be his year. McGonagall loved him (mostly)! The Captain position was basically promised to him since his second year and now you've come around and ruined this for him! 

"She's seriously not even that good, it's infuriating," James lies and looks around the small gathering they're having. He knows everyone can hear him but he doesn't care. "And she's so fucking annoying," he sounds bitter, "she's always talking everyone's ears off— and have you seen her stupid hair? She wore those fucking space buns just to make herself look cute, I swear!" He lifts himself off the couch for a moment, his arms raising in exasperation, and then lets out a sigh. 

"That is usually the reason girls do their hair, James, yes," Remus interrupts from the floor where he's reading his book, his back leaning against the couch. 

"Shut up," James grumbles and slumps back down. "I don't want her on the team. She's a nuisance already." 

"Speaking of," Peter adds, his voice smaller as he glances towards the stairs to the girls' dorms. James whips his head around and his eyes narrow. You're walking towards the small gathering with some friends. 

You're dressed in a Quidditch sweater that is only slightly oversized as the sleeves cover your hands. You're blissfully unaware of how much James Potter hates you so when you see him staring, you assume he wants to talk to you. You liked his company during tryouts. He was funny.

You'd always found him funny. 

So, you walk over with a smile and James struggles to sit up. He's very obviously sloshed. 

"Hello, Potter," you say and your smile widens. "This is Jane and that's Gabrielle," you introduce your friends. "I enjoyed try-outs, you were amazing. If I'm honest, I've always admired you during games. You're so talented," you feel yourself rambling but you're smiling too much to stop yourself, "I'm so happy we're gonna be on the same team now! I think we should–" 

James cuts you off, a mean smirk on his lips as he looks at his friends and the students around you, "What did I say? A little chatterbox this one is," he quips, not completely unaware of how harsh his words are even in his drunken state. 

Your hands fall at your sides, and the wind feels like it's been knocked from your lungs at his words when you realize he's making fun of you. You look at your friends and they stare at James with pronounced frowns.

"Oh," you whisper, but then you add, "That's not very nice, Potter." 

A little surprised you'd had the guts to stand up to him, James retorts instantly. "Yeah? Is it now, Y/l/n?" He sounds mocking again and you don't understand why. 

Your friends pull on your sleeve. "C'mon, Y/n, he's a prick," they turn you around, feeling how hurt you are as they walk away from James and his friends. 

"Classy, James, real classy," Remus mutters under his breath. 

And as awful as sober James might admit it is, he feels like he'd won something against you. 

* * *

You can't understand why James seems to hate you as much as he does. 

You've never been mean to him or done anything to harm him— on the contrary, you've only ever spoken highly of him and you know you've made a point of showing him that you trust him as a player when you're practicing. You want him to trust you too. 

And still, James hates you and he makes that very clear. 

He turns anything into a competition when it comes to you and it's obvious he takes pleasure in making you feel like shit.

As the days turn into weeks, you feel hopeless and even now you find yourself sitting alone on the grass during breaks, adjusting your uniform so you look busy as you hold in your tears. 

You can hear James's cruel whispers about you to your teammates, purposefully creating rifts between you and them so you'll feel even more alone.

"She's so desperate," James's mockery causes another ache in your stomach and you chew on your lip so hard you're afraid you'll draw blood. You try not to listen to him as the whistle blows and the practice game starts again. 

You're not on James's team this time–which means he either ignores you completely or targets you over anyone. As he hovers near you, you realize this morning it's the latter. 

Maria Baker throws you the Quaffle and just as she does, you can sense James coming. You avoid his shoulder just in time and, with a huff, you score into the nearest hoop.

This just infuriates James even more and ups his game—which means the next time you have the Quaffle, he flies up to your shoulder again and pushes you hard to the side. He jabs his elbow into your ribs, purposefully playing dirty. 

You wince. "O-ow, James, that hurts," you hiss, focusing on staying in the air as James rough-houses with you.

Your anger builds now and you shove him back, almost slipping from your broom as you try and defend yourself.

The Quaffle falls from your arms as James hits your shoulder with his again and you gasp. You expect him to rush to the ball and continue the game but he's furious from you shoving him so he grabs one of your braids and pulls. 

You feel yourself fall from your broom as you cry in pain and you turn your body, clutching the end of James's uniform and, with a grunt from him, you're suddenly both plummeting to the ground. 

You roll onto your stomach, falling onto James's chest as his arms automatically wrap around your back and he groans, looking up at you as you practically straddle his lap. Your head is throbbing from where he'd pulled your hair, your left braid messier than your right, and pure fury flashes in your eyes. 

You lean over James, grabbing a handful of his curls and you pull. "What the bloody hell is your problem? How do you like it, hm?! You insufferable jerk!" 

James doesn't take too kindly to this and he grabs your wrists, flipping you over so you're the one under him. His mum had told him never to hit a girl but oh does he want to hit you right now. You're staring up at him with that look he hates—the one that makes him feel all fluttery in his stomach.

You're struggling against his grip, grass in your hair. James's cheeks must be just as covered in dirt as yours are and his shoulder aches from the way he'd fallen. 

"Potter! Y/l/n!" The whistle blows and the current Captain, Ines Clarke, runs up with McGonagall behind her. She'd seen the commotion from inside and seemed more than furious as she rushed over.

Some of your teammates follow, including Sirius Black who grips James's collar and pulls him off you. You hear Sirius hiss, "Prongs!! What in Godric's name is wrong with you?!" and then McGonagall pulls your attention to her. 

Ines helps you up, looking concerned but then turns her attention to James. McGonagall walks over and when she sees the mess James has made of you, she frowns. "Are you alright, Miss Y/l/n?"

You nod, your lips pressed tightly as you see a bunch of your teammates have gathered around James as he rolls his shoulder. You look at your broom, which lies broken on the grass, and your eyes water. McGonagall senses your distress and she glances at James. 

"James Potter!" She suddenly snaps her dainty fingers and James is next to her in seconds, both hands gripping his only slightly damaged broom. 

It had been better quality than yours anyway. 

His nervous eyes dart from McGonagall to you as he takes you in. You stare at him, unable to look away from how messy you've made his naturally tousled hair and you wonder if grass and dirt stick to your cheeks just as they do to James'. 

"This," McGonagall points in between you both, "isn't how we do things here—you know this better than anyone, Mr. Potter. Your behavior is unacceptable." she reprimands him sternly and then looks at you, "and Miss Y/l/n, no matter how other teammates provoke you, you don't have the right to lay your hands on them either."

"But–" 

"No. No more buts." McGonagall ignores both your protests as she looks down at your broom. "You need to learn how to behave like a team."

She thinks for a moment. "Tomorrow morning, you'll travel to Hogsmeade so Miss Y/l/n can replace her broom. Mr. Potter, you'll help her without any complaints, and neither of you better step foot on the pitch again until you've worked out whatever this feud is." 

Your eyes widen. You want to tell McGonagall you cannot buy a new broom right now, but she clearly doesn't have anyexcuses about her new team bonding exercise. This means, much to your dismay, you end up waiting for James early the next morning, hugging your arms around you as you pick at the wool on your sweater. 

James is ten minutes late. You want to kill him. 

"Oi," his voice calls from behind you, irritatingly nonchalant. You turn and see he's also wearing his Quidditch sweater—which means you're now unintentionally matching—and a pair of casual trousers. James sends you a lopsided smirk, pushing his hands into his pockets as he sways on his feet almost awkwardly. "Why so gloomy, newb?" he mocks, the nickname rolling cruelly from his tongue.

You scrunch up your nose and spin around, walking in front of him as you clutch your purse. You don't want to give him a reaction and have him mock you the entire way into town. Instead, you both walk in silence, taking in the morning air and the sound of the birds.

Occasionally your purse will hit James's hip and he'll frown, opening to say another snarky comment until he sees a keychain; the one you have of Olive Gnats, a famous chaser from the Montrose Magpies.

"Oh, Gnats, I like her too—" he finds himself admitting before he can remind himself he hates you. 

You startle and clutch your keychain, wanting to hide it from him but then you look down and then back up at James. "O-oh, yeah, she's my favorite player. Her technique is incomparable."

"Seen her match last year?"

"'Course," you say, your tone less on edge now that you're talking about something you clearly love, and the rambling you do so much kicks in, "I would watch her every game ever since I was six years old. Have around ten posters in my room at home, some are old now but—I- I studied her moves when I would play around with my mum and dad—they also played in school—that's how they met—" You cut yourself off, James's earlier taunts ringing in your head. 

Your rambling is ignored as curiously overpowers him and James asks, "You have no siblings to play with?"

You shake your head. "Nope. Only child."

James's hazel eyes soften and he feels a funny feeling in his chest. "Oh, m-me too. Has its perks and its downfalls, y'know?" he whispers as he looks at you from the corner of his eye. His heart pounds.

The sun hits your skin just perfectly and your hair smells like cinnamon shampoo. James feels drawn to you again—just like he had in the beginning—and he wants to stop himself but when you laugh at his comment, he feels like an arrow has just shot his heart. 

"Oh yeah, it certainly does," you sound guarded again and James can't even be upset.

It's his fault you're like this around him.

He opens the door for you when you enter Quality Quidditch Supplies and the little bell rings. Instantly, you're drawn to the newest broom—displayed with polished wood and improved flying qualities—but you turn your head, knowing instantly you can't pay for a broom like that—

"Hey, look at this one," James's excitement tugs at your heart and you walk over, standing beside him as you can't help but admire the broom up close. "It feels amazing," James says as he runs his hand over the smooth wood. He's grinning. "This is the one, isn't it?"

You bite your cheek. You want it to be.

"I don't know, I–haven't seen the others," you whisper, avoiding James's eyes.

"What? What are you talking about? This one is the best by far, you aren't gonna find a better broom."

"I want to look around," you whisper, looking at the price of this broom, and your heart sinks.

"Y/n, this is ridiculous—"

"James, stop," you snap, very clearly annoyed. You can't tell if he means well by being persistent since he's only just now started to show you any form of kindness and this still feels like some cruel joke he's playing on you.

"I can't pay for this one—and the truth is I can't pay for any of these so—I- I think—" you pause, clutching at your purse desperately as you hold in tears of embarrassment. "I should tell McGonagall I couldn't find a broom I liked and I'll borrow an older one from my parents—

—plus, if I buy this one you'll just have another reason to hate me," you finish. 

Your words hit James hard as he takes in what you mean. Shame sneaks up on him instantly as he knows exactly why you would think that. It suddenly hits him just how threatened he's been and as silly as it sounds the only image in James's head is the disappointed look of his mother if she knew he had taken out his own insecurities on you. 

If Euphemia Potter knew how much of a dick he's been to you, she'd be horrified.

He looks at you closely, taking in how embarrassed you look. During tense moments with his friends, Remus had sometimes told him he was a spoiled rich boy—unaware of real struggles — and he'd always brushed him off.

Only this time, he can't unhear Remus's jab as he realizes how foolish he had been to assume anything about you.

"Oh," he whispers.

You look away at the other brooms. "I- I honestly didn't realize how expensive new brooms are. My mum and dad had gotten the other one for my eleventh birthday—I should have been more careful—" You sound sad and James's heart sinks. 

"Hey, listen, it's my fault your broom is broken. I- shouldn't have been so rough on you like I was. I'm sorry," he speaks up, sounding sincere and you look up at him, expecting a better explanation than that. 

"It's no excuse but, the truth is, I was incredibly threatened by you. You're so good, better than me even, and I really want Captain so—"

"I don't want Captain," you say instantly. "I just wanted to be on the team—"

At that point, James remembers what you'd said that night when he was piss-drunk in the Common Room. 'I've always admired you during games.' It dawns on him that you just wanted him to like you and, instead, he'd gone and seen you as an enemy. His chest hurts. 

He has never felt more like an ass than now. 

"Okay, well, um," he whispers, rubbing his nape, "Let me make it up to you then. I'll buy you the broom." James means well, he truly does, but it only makes you feel more embarrassed and you shake your head. 

"No. I don't need your pity," you say instantly as you stare at him, eyes narrowed. 

"I'm not pitying you! I'm fixing my mistake," he exclaims, his voice strained.

You open your mouth to protest when he adds, "Please."

James looks determined as he rummages through his robes for any spare change he can use and then he curses. "Shit, I didn't bring enough money," he mumbles and lifts his head, looking up at you with his puppy-like brown eyes. "I promise I'll buy it for you, Y/n. Okay? I'll make this right," he adds again and your expression softens. 

"Sure, James," you whisper, not entirely sure if you believe him. 

* * *

He did buy you the broom.

James had it wrapped neatly with a small letter signed J.P accompanied with the words, "I'm sorry," scribbled onto the parchment. 

Since that morning, he didn't ignore you anymore, he included you with the other teammates, and he played fair with you—even complimenting you sometimes. McGonagall had seen the change in dynamic and so had Ines, which she'd praised you both for.

"Good job, Y/l/n," Ines grins as she packs up her bags, "you and Potter seem to be getting on much better now." She winks and her comment passes over you as you focus on untying your ponytail, rubbing your scalp. 

The rest of the team has fallen in front of you, laughing and chatting as they walk back to the dorm. You're lost in the moment, struggling with holding your bag as you run your hand in your hair, the tightness of the ponytail was causing you a headache. 

Suddenly, you suddenly squeal when you almost trip over James—who had bent down to tie his shoes and had been separated from the group. 

He grunts and stands up, turning around and catching your arm as he steadies you. 

"Oh hey, Y/n," he grins, and then he glances at your poor bag hanging from your arm. Swiftly, he takes your bag and holds it over his other shoulder, not even commenting on the gesture. 

"Want some company walking back to the Common Room?" he asks casually.

You blow some strands away from your eyes as you look up at him, grateful for the momentary relief from your bag as the pain in your scalp subsides.

"Sure," you say, reaching for your bag but James holds it up and away from you. 

"Let me be a gentleman here," he teases.

You roll your eyes with no malice. "Hero complex much, Potter?"

He chuckles as you walk inside the school, side by side. James winks at you. "On the contrary, Y/l/n, I am the hero. Don't need a complex when you are one, y'know?"

You laugh, hearing the joking infliction in his voice as your heart feels lighter. Much to your better judgment, you've actually been enjoying James's company these last weeks, and talking to him alone like this has been even more fun. "I think you think much too highly of yourself, James." you tease him back. 

"I am wounded, Y/n." He fakes hurt as he puts a hand over his heart. 

"It's true is it not?" you say with a smirk and James narrows his eyes as you turn a corner, getting closer to the Common Room. You shrug, catching yourself. "Nothing wrong with some confidence." 

James grins, his eyes sparkling playfully as he gently nudges your side with his elbow. "You could learn a few things from me, eh?"

You frown. "Are you saying I'm not confident?"

James hums, smirking, "'M just giving you some advice, love. You have the skills now, you gotta trust yourself." You both approach the entrance and you mutter the secret word to the Fat Lady Painting and the door cracks open. You push it further with your palm. 

"Since when are you giving me Quidditch advice to make me better?" 

James turns around once he's inside and hands you your bag. "Since I realized if you can't beat them, join them," he jokes with a smile, "We're a team now, Y/n. I know I was a real dick in the beginning, but I look out for my teammates. You're my teammate, so now I look after you."

Your shoulders relax and a small smile tugs your lips. "Thanks, James," you say honestly and rest your bag higher on your shoulder, tucking some hair behind your ear as you smooth the knots a little. "I really appreciate that."

"Anytime," James whispers as you walk up the stairs to the girl's dorm. Sirius whistles from where he's sitting on one of the couches, his head leaning against the armrest as he watches you and James. Once you disappear from view, James spins around, his eyes narrowing at his best friend. 

Sirius winks and looks at James's sneakers. "This is the third time this week you've used that stupid shoelace excuse, Prongs. At this point, just stay back and ask her to walk with you, you chicken."

James's cheeks turn crimson and he walks over to shove Sirius, "Shut up." 

Sirius just laughs loudly. 

* * *

You've never felt so nervous in your life as you clutch the wood of your new, expensive, broom. The wind has picked up and everyone can tell the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor seekers are having a hard time finding the snitch. You're breathing heavily as you look around, seeing Maria—the third chaser—throw James the Quaffle. 

James easily catches the Quaffle, avoiding the Ravenclaws on his right as he swoops lower. Your adrenaline is pumping and you think you know what he's doing. You hope. You fly closer and higher to the hoops, letting James know you're open.

Your memory flashes to the beginning when he wouldn't pass you the Quaffle under any circumstances, even if it cost the team the point. He can be so headstrong and your body is buzzing as you watch him closely.

What if he doesn't throw it to you? You have the perfect shot. 

James looks at you from the corner of his eye, shoving a Ravenclaw with his shoulder to disorient them.

He could want the score for himself—but he's surrounded, he could miss.

The sound of the crowd is drowned out when you see his arm raise and he's communicating with his eyes. You nod, jumping into action as you fly closer and avoid the Ravenclaws as you catch the Quaffle and throw your arm back, throwing the Quaffle directly into the middle hoop. 

Just as you score, Oliver—Ravenclaw's seeker—catches the snitch and the whistle blows. Gryffindor was leading already and you glance at the board. It didn't matter that Oliver caught the snitch, your goal had helped secure Gryffindor the win. Cheers erupt around you and you find yourself in a trance as your feet hit the ground and you clutch your broom.

"Y/n!" Someone calls your name as the ringing in your ears dies and you feel hands wrap around your waist, hoisting you up in the air as you twirl around. A gasp escapes your lips as you clutch onto the culprit's shoulder, the cheers continuing to echo around the pitch.  

"You did so amazingly," James's excitement shines as he slowly lowers you back onto the ground, your chest brushing against his as your hands find themselves wrapped around his neck. You stare into his eyes, feeling his proximity and you suddenly feel warm and dizzy.

Has he always been this handsome?

"James." His name is the only thing your brain can think to say as he refuses to let you go. He also looks breathless and his cheeks have turned a faint shade of pink as his eyes roam over your features. 

You want to tell him a thousand things. How good he was, how you're so happy the team won, how honored you are he trusted you enough to throw you the Quaffle to make the score. You want to ask if you were more confident this time and if he's noticed your effort—but instead, any attempt at words is drowned by his lips meeting yours. 

You don't kiss him back for a moment, your hand faltering behind his neck as your fingers find the baby hairs on his nape. He feels so close and your lips part a little, kissing him back carefully as your eyes shut. 

James's hands squeeze your waist and for a moment the crowd and the team are completely forgotten until James pulls away, and the sound of cheering returns as the realization of what happened dawns on you both. 

"I'm sorry," James mutters, stepping away but he keeps a hand on you. 

"You're sorry?" you ask, your voice small. 

James hesitates, looking at you seriously and then he shakes his head. "No. I'm not sorry."

Your lips curl upwards and, still ignoring everyone around you, you pull him down by the collar of his shirt and kiss his lips again. James grins against your mouth, his heart thumps in his chest as all he can think about is you.

"Oi, no PDA on the pitch, you pervs!" Sirius's teasing voice suddenly shouts out from somewhere beside you but you're almost positive no one else is worried about you and James considering everyone's celebrating on their own.

James must feel the same because he throws up a middle finger with the hand that leaves your waist and you laugh into his mouth, reaching for his arm to stop him.

"Prick," James mutters to Sirius, "You're annoying," he adds with some playful bite. 

He turns to you and his gaze softens. "But you're lovely," he whispers, earning him the prettiest smile he's ever seen and he's never been more proud.

tags: @mischievousmoony, @sayitlikethecheese

[lilasamaaa]

Missed chances | Max Verstappen x Reader / Part One

Genre | Angst, Hurt, Fluff.

Word count | 4.1K

Warnings | Mentions of heartbreak, alcohol consumption, Max being an asshole.

Summary | It's been years since you've had a crush on your best friend's brother. But him too, right? Or is kissing you every chance he gets just a game for him?

Author's note | Angsty Queen is back at it! This piece is the result of this poll. Thank you so much for all the feedback on the previous pieces, I'm so glad you like them. Enjoy this one! (Not proofread yet, sorry!)

You and Victoria are thirteen when you cross paths for the first time. The shy blonde girl stands upright, nervously nibbling her lip. It's the first day of school, and you're both waiting to find out which class you'll be in, hoping to be with friends. Her gaze meets yours, and she offers a timid smile. You're not friends. Not yet. You just have mutual friends. Your names are called almost simultaneously, indicating that you're in the same class. Instinctively, you head towards her, giving her a big smile. You don't know anyone else in the class, so you'll have to get to know each other. Stick together.

A few months later, as your father drops you off in front of Victoria's house before rushing off to your little brother's soccer practice, you take a moment to observe the pale blue house from the outside. Upstairs, a curtain moves, catching your attention. You don't see anybody, though. You knock on the door, and Victoria opens it, immediately throwing herself into your arms.

"I'm so glad your parents agreed to this," she says, excited. "This is gonna be so cool. My parents aren't home so Max is supposed to look after us, but he'll probably lock himself in his room. Boys, you know..." she finishes, leading you into the hallway.

Max? For months, you've been sharing your lives between classes, but you've never heard this name before.

"Who's Max?" you ask, curious.

"My older brother," she replies, rolling her eyes. "We don't get along so well these days. He thinks he's all grown up... Barely even acknowledge me," Victoria says, frustration evident in her voice.

"I can relate," you reply sarcastically. "Well, mine's younger, but not that interested in me either."

You spend the afternoon in her room painting your nails, braiding each other's hair, and sharing your secrets (you're starting to run out, after all this time), until night falls. You're deep in conversation when someone knocks on the door. That must be Max, you think, waiting for the door to open.

And it is Max, indeed. His face appears, and your heart skips a beat. He's cute. He seems a bit grumpy. Not in the best mood, that's true. But there's something immediately touching about his big, wide eyes and annoyed expression.

"Diner's ready," Max says before closing the door.

"I bet he made fish sticks again," Victoria grumbles, getting up. "That's the only thing he knows how to cook."

Sitting at the table, cutting a fish stick in half with your fork, your gaze shifts from Victoria to Max, who sit across from each other, not exchanging a word.

"So..." you start shyly. "What's your favorite subject, Max?" you ask, immediately regretting your words as the boy glances in your direction, brows furrowed.

Of course, your only topic of conversation is school. You've always been one of the top students. A real bookworm, as they say. Plus, you're not exactly comfortable around boys, especially those around your age. Victoria shoots you a desperate look, eyes wide open. But right now, anything seems better than this uncomfortable, excruciating silence.

"Erm," Max says, grabbing a green bean with his fork. "Geography, I guess. I don't know."

Silence falls once again, lingering until each of you finishes your meal, and then Victoria and you retreat to her room.

"Don't even bother trying to talk to him," the blonde says as she slips into her pajamas. "Nothing interests him except go-karting."

The next time you encounter Max, you're fourteen, and he's sixteen. Victoria and you are participating in an endurance race to raise funds for a charity, and your families have been invited to attend the event. Your parents, who have crossed paths several times at school meetings and other events, find each other in the stands and share enthusiastic greetings before sitting down. Already on the track, you watch the reunion with a smile when your eyes fall on him. Max is here? you think. He never attends these things.

The race begins, and Victoria and you take off along the lake, completing lap after lap. On one of them, as you pass by the stands, particularly the one where your parents are seated, you turn your head, hoping to catch a glimpse of them. You don't see your father or your mother. Your eyes only see him. Max. And he's looking at you, too. Your eyes don't leave each other until your foot slips on a stone, and your ankle twists violently. You fall to the ground, letting out a cry of pain as your father rises, rushing to your aid.

A little less than an hour later, as Victoria finishes her run and joins you at the infirmary, the blonde gives you a worried yet disapproving look. "You're too distracted," she says, hand on her hip. "What was it this time? Did you see a cute boy or something? Was it Jan?". You don't respond, giving a sheepish smile to your friend. A cute boy, yeah...

As the years go by, you see Max less and less. At the beginning of your friendship with Victoria, you often ran into the young man when you spent afternoons or nights at the Verstappen's, but the aspiring driver has started to become increasingly scarce in his own home. One evening, though, as you're racking your brains over a philosophy essay, your phone vibrates, signaling a message from the person who's become your best friend.

"Max is throwing a fucking rager at home. Please come, I beg you. I'll shoot myself if I have to deal with his drunk friends all alone."

Thirty minutes later, you're on your bike, covering the five kilometers that separate your house from Victoria's. Summer has begun, with only a few days of classes left, which certainly explains Max's sudden urge to throw a party. On your bike, you're anxious, your stomach tying itself in knots. Despite your daily visits to Victoria, it's been almost a year since you've last seen her older brother. You try to convince yourself that the fact you applied a bit of mascara to your lashes or straightened your hair has nothing to do with his presence. You just wanted to tidy up a bit, that's all. Nothing else to it.

When you arrive at the blue house, your first instinct is to anxiously glance at the surrounding houses. How has no one called the cops yet, you think, impressed by the decibels pouring out of the open windows, and the number of people you can already see inside the house. Leaving your bike in the grass, you venture into the house, passing by the wide open front door. On the way to the living room, drunk bodies cling to you, spilling beer on your shoes, shouting incomprehensible words in your ears. Wow. Victoria wasn't kidding. This thing is a huge mess.

Spotting your friend in the middle of the kitchen, you make your way to her.

"What the fuck is happening here?" you ask, casting a glance over the room.

"Can you believe this asshole?" Victoria replies, fuming. "Mom has been gone for five hours. Five! And I haven't even finished my fucking essay," she says, despair filling her eyes.

"Forget about it," you reply, stifling a laugh. "That's not happening tonight."

Victoria launches into another tirade about how much her brother annoys her when you catch sight of him in the middle of the living room. He's wearing a shirt that looks slightly too big for him. Maybe borrowed from his dad. He's holding a beer in one hand. A girl in the other. The sight twists your heart and brings a bitter taste to your mouth. Clinging to his arm, the blonde —who you recognize as Sanne, a girl from his class— can't seem to tear her gaze from Max, looking at him as if he belonged in a museum.

"Hey, are you listening?" Victoria says, bringing you back to reality.

"What?"

"They want to play a game," Victoria repeats. "Seven minutes in heaven."

"Seven minutes in heaven?" you repeat, eyes wide.

"Yeah. Sanne suggested it."

Of course she did, you think, biting your lip. Of course Sanne, who clearly has a big crush on Max, would suggest a game where the goal is to get locked in a narrow closet with someone for seven minutes.

"Listen to me," Victoria says, suddenly serious. "If Max has to be locked in a closet with anyone, I want it to be you. We'll figure it out. We'll cheat at the draw," she continues. "I hate Sanne. At least with you, I know nothing will happen."

You swallow loudly, completely at a loss for words. Getting locked in a closet with Max? The Max who's never really noticed you? Who's always seen you as nothing but a kid because you're a year and a half younger and his sister's friend? You don't have much time to think about it because already, you're sitting in a circle in the middle of the living room with a dozen other people, a bottle in the center.

Johannes, a friend of Max's, spins the bottle, which lands on Sanne. The girl's eyes sparkle with excitement, her gaze fixed on Max. Johannes spins the bottle again, and this time, it stops in front of another girl you don't know. You glance at Victoria, who seems particularly amused by the situation. Sanne looks absolutely gutted.

"Rules are rules, girls," Johannes says, laughing.

A boy from your class escorts the girls to the closet by the entrance before locking them in and starting a timer. The seven minutes pass, filled by various discussions. When the alarm goes off and the girls are freed, Sanne sits back in the circle, her face closed off.

"It's my turn to spin the bottle," she announces, seizing the plastic object.

She's quite skilled, as the bottle spins twice before landing directly in front of Max. Sanne grabs the bottle again, sending it spinning, and it rotates for a while before stopping right in front of you. Sanne seems beside herself, but your attention is focused on Victoria, who gives you a discreet thumbs-up. Your eyes meet Max's, and it's safe to say the young man doesn't look too pleased. But as Johannes said, rules are rules, and the two of you get up before walking towards the closet.

The space is ridiculously tiny. Max ventures in first, one foot behind the vacuum cleaner, the other squeezed between two shoe shelves. There's barely enough room for two people to fit, and as Johannes pushes you inside unceremoniously and you hear the lock click behind you, you realize you're standing between Max's legs, your hands on his chest.

"Sorry," you say, trying to get away, your back hitting the door.

A heavy silence settles between you as outside, you hear the lively conversations resume in the living room.

"I'm sure you would have preferred to be locked in with Sanne," you say, trying to fill the silence that's slowly eating away at you.

"Not really," Max responds, evasive.

"Aren't you two together?" you ask, curious.

He scoffs against you, sending vibrations to your chest.

"She would like to, yeah," Max says, as you feel his breath against your face despite him being twenty centimeters taller than you.

"And you don't?" you ask, trying to appear nonchalant even though you fear his answer.

"I don't have time for her."

"Oh. I didn't realize your time was so precious," you reply, stunned.

"Depends on who it's spent with," Max replies, his voice deeper.

You're suddenly incredibly grateful to be plunged into darkness because your cheeks are definitely burning red. Is Max Verstappen flirting with you?

"You've changed since the last time I saw you," he continues, as you feel like the temperature in the closet has risen several degrees.

"Changed how?" you ask, seeking his gaze despite the darkness.

"You're taller. Your hair seems longer. It's lightened up a bit, it's nice," he says. "Sixteen suits you. You're not a kid anymore."

You're going to suffocate. Die in a closet.

"We're only a year and a half apart," you reply, breathless.

"I know," he replies, as you feel his hand caress your cheek. "I'm not a kid anymore either."

His lips crash onto yours before you even have time to comprehend what's happening. You melt into him, closing your eyes, savoring the contact you've dreamed of for years. His hand rests on the back of your head, bringing you closer to him, as your hands find their way back to his chest. You bite his lip, and he lets out a groan before wrapping his arms around your waist. You thank the loud music from the living room for drowning out the sounds you're making in this closet, pressed against one another. Your hands find his neck, and his crawl to your ass, squeezing it as you let out a moan against his open mouth.

You thought you couldn't get any closer, but one of Max's hands slips under your right knee, lifting your leg. You've never kissed anyone. Never touched anyone. Yet, as your two groins press against each other, everything feels so easy, so natural. You could stay here for hours, exploring his mouth, his face, his body, but already, footsteps echo in the hallway, and you pull away from each other as if you'd been burned.

"Time's up, lovers!" Johannes says opening the door, prompting laughter from the living room.

"As if," Max says, getting out first. "That's disgusting, bro. She's like my sister."

You stay in the closet for a few seconds, watching the two boys go back to the living room, catching your breath. Several hours later, lying in Victoria's bed as the music has stopped and most of the guests have left the house, you stare at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep, despite your best friend softly snoring by your side. Getting up to get a glass of water, you walk blindly through the dark hallway, passing by Max's room.

"Can we talk?" a voice suddenly rises, making you jump, your hand finding your heart which threatens to leap out of your chest.

You remain silent. Not quite sure if you want to talk, let alone with Max. And certainly not to talk about earlier, in the closet, and be rejected by the boy who stole your heart.

"Come here," he says, pulling you into his room before closing the door behind him. "I don't want Victoria to hear."

You're about to pour your heart out, tell Max how much he hurt you, when he pulls you towards him and presses his lips to yours. Again. Everything you had planned to say escapes your mind as your tongues meet and the hands of your best friend's brother slide under your shirt, stroking your back. Max pulls back, sitting on his bed, pulling you onto his lap, one leg on each side of him. The kisses intensify, your noses brushing, your hands getting lost in each other's hair. Your lips speaking without sound, your hearts opening up without words.

"I don't understand you," you admit between kisses.

"Don't try," he replies, biting your lip.

Max grabs your butt, pressing you against him, and a flash of panic grips you when you feel him against you. Hard. You moan, and suddenly, all the reason seems to come back to him. It's you. His sister's best friend. He pulls back, avoiding your gaze.

"I..." he starts, breathless. "You should go," Max says before pushing you off his lap. You stand here, facing him awkwardly for a few seconds. Waiting for him to say something. Anything. When nothing comes, his head still low, you turn on your heels. Back in Victoria's room, slipping under the covers of your best friend's bed, you let out a tear, feeling a sadly familiar ache tugging at your heart.

Max and you cross paths again a year later, at your high school graduation ceremony. You and Victoria are among the top students in your class, and you're invited to go on stage to give a speech with eight other people. One of these people is Niels. Your boyfriend. You've been together for a few months now. He welcomes you on stage, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before holding you close. In the audience, your eyes meet those of your parents, proud. Those of Victoria's parents, proud. And those of Max. Icy.

The speeches go by quickly, and just before the buffet begins, you apologize to Niels and your parents, saying you need to make a quick stop at the restroom. In the deserted corridors of your high school, your heels click against the floor, soon joined by the sound of another pair of shoes. You turn around, surprised, seeing Max approaching in the distance.

"Niels Harmen?" you hear the boy say. "Really?"

"What do you want?" you reply, eyes cold.

"That guy was still picking his nose last year."

"It's good that he stopped, then," you respond, annoyed.

"Why are you dating him?"

The question makes you laugh. Not a sincere laugh. A laugh that says "mind your own business" and "screw you" at the same time. An ironic, ugly laugh that you don't even recognize.

"When we kiss, I'm not afraid that he'll reject me the next second," you reply, even though you know it's hitting below the belt.

Max scoffs, crossing his arms.

"Is it what it is? Some sort of revenge?"

"I'm not seeking revenge on anyone. My life doesn't revolve around you," you spit before turning on your heels.

You haven't taken a step before a hand grabs your wrist. You already know what's going to happen. So you try to resist. You know you shouldn't turn around. That if your eyes meet his, you'll fall back in. Start another round of false hopes. Disillusionments. Heartaches.

Yet, you do. You turn around, and, of course, his lips find yours. It's almost routine now, mechanical. You close your eyes, your heart torn between the joy of feeling his touch again, and the anticipation of the pain that will undoubtedly assail you in a few hours. When he'll reject you, again.

You're lost in each other when the sound of applause brings you crashing back to earth. The two of you quickly pull away before turning towards the source of the noise. Sanne.

"Don't you have a boyfriend waiting for you?" the girl asks with a fake smile.

"Get out of here, Sanne," Max says like a warning.

"What happened to "I'm not interested in her", Max?" Sanne asks, one hand on her hip. "Or to "She's just a kid, and not even my type"? Or, wait, what was it, the last time?" Sanne continues, stroking her chin. "Oh, yeah. "She was just there, and I was bored"."

You look at him, mouth agape, but Max carefully avoids meeting your gaze. Sanne's words tear at your heart. In a way, it's even worse than being rejected by him. You turn on your heels for good this time, passing by Sanne who's looking at you like you're the most despicable thing on earth. You're vaguely aware of Max saying... no, screaming your name, but you keep on walking, not looking back once. For a second, you thought you were gonna cry, break down in tears in the middle of the hallway. But nothing comes. You don't feel anything. Your heart has given up, surrendered. Returning to the ceremony, you smile at your parents before settling next to your best friend.

"Have you seen Max?" Victoria asks, and you don't miss how the mention of his name doesn't make your heart flutter, for the first time in years.

"Nope," you reply, smiling at her.

Three years later, you're in Victoria's car, on your way to the Zandvoort Grand Prix. You don't even know why you agreed to come with your best friend. You don't watch F1. You have no interest in the sport. Curiosity, your inner voice whispers. You wanted to see him again. You shake your head to dispel those intrusive thoughts when Victoria turns to you.

"I'm so glad you agreed to come. Max is so happy, too."

"What?" you ask, turning to her.

"He told me over the phone. Is that so surprising?"

Well, it is. Max and you haven't exchanged a word since the last ones thrown in the hallway of your high school. But Victoria, of course, doesn't know that. Victoria thinks you're friendly. Like two people who grew up together, gravitating in the same universe without ever colliding.

"He got us VIP passes", your best friend continues. "We'll be able to go everywhere, even see the pit stops!"

"How kind of him," you mumble.

"Look," she says, looking over at you. "I know Max wasn't the kindest... or the warmest, growing up. But he's changed, so much. You'd be surprised!"

"Oh, I bet," you say, smiling at her.

Victoria parks her small car in the VIP space, and a RedBull staff member greets you, handing you two passes before guiding you through the paddock. A stress you haven't felt in three years creeps into your head, into your body. Your thoughts collide, your hands are sweaty. You're beginning to wonder if coming here was a good idea after all when you spot him. At the end of the aisle, in his racing suit. Helmet in hand. Victoria's phone suddenly rings, and she apologizes, gesturing for you to continue without her.

You take the few steps that separate you from the driver. He's changed. So much. His teenage roundness has vanished, replaced by sharp features. His hair is longer, his eyes darker. He gives you a warm smile that twists your insides. It's impossible, you think. After all these years. Having so much power, so much hold over me.

"You came," he says, still smiling.

"For her," you reply curtly.

"Well..." he says, laughing softly. "She's not the one racing."

The silence falls again. Cold. Heavy. You turn your head, spotting Victoria a little further away, hoping she hangs up soon.

"You look beautiful," he says, and you know he means it despite you wearing the blankest blue jeans and white shirt ever made.

Silence, again.

"I'd hoped you'd no longer be mad at me." Max says, and you scoff.

"I'm not mad at you."

"You're cold."

"You broke my heart."

The driver winces, looking away.

"I should have called," he says, softly.

"I wouldn't have answered," you reply.

"I should have come to see you," Max starts again.

"I wouldn't have opened the door."

Your eyes meet his. Fire and ice.

"Well, I should have done something. Fight for you," he continues.

"Fight for who?" you ask. "The girl who was just there?"

Max runs his hand through his hair, embarrassed.

"You were never just that to me. You were so much more. I was just too young, too stupid to realize it. I have. Now."

You hadn't planned on getting into deep explanations with Max today. Not here. Not now. You're about to respond when Victoria returns, linking her arm with yours.

"Maxie!" she says, kissing his cheek. "Are you catching up on lost time? Did she tell you she's still dating Niels? Rumor has it that he's going to propose soon!"

Max's eyes glance down at your hand, and something in his demeanor shifts. It might be the breath he holds, or the way his shoulders seem to slump, defeated.

"She hasn't," he says, smiling faintly at his sister.

"We should go," Victoria says. "The race is about to start. Can we go to the stands?"

"Yes, no problem," Max replies as Victoria begins to head towards the garage, leaving you face to face once again.

"Congrats on your future engagement, I guess," he says.

"Thank you. I'm going to break up with him," you reply, crossing your arms.

"What?" Max says, astonished.

"It doesn't feel right. Him and I."

"If it has anything to do with me, please, tell me," Max breathes, as you avoid his gaze. "I was so focused on my career these past few years that I never wrote to you. I knew I didn't have the time to make it work. I knew it'd be selfish. Unfair to you," Max admits.

"Here you are, once again, thinking that my life revolves around you", you say, smirking at him. "I'm not waiting for you, Max. I haven't been for a while now."

The driver nods, swallowing hard.

"Of course," he says. "I'm sorry for assuming."

"I'm not against the idea of grabbing a drink with you sometime, though," you say, winking at him. "Just text me when you're free."

"I will," he says quickly, blue eyes boring into yours.

"See you around," you say, running to catch up with Victoria.

Watching you leave, Max stands there, grinning like an idiot, before unlocking his phone.

"How about tonight?"

Sent.

[withwritersblock]

More Hearts Than Mine-Meeting her Family

~More Hearts Than Mine by Ingrid Andress~

Author's Note: this is the first of my one shot collection series where Luke and Y/N do varies fluffy (or angsty) activities with each other's families ! Per usual not edited Summary: Luke meets Y/N's family for the first time Warnings: I don't think so? Word Count: 3,155 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

Luke stood in the bathroom, staring at his reflection, running his fingers through his curls. He held the gel product in his fingers as he tried to style his hair perfectly. He got a haircut. The sides of his hair were shaved as the top of his hair was longer on the top. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. It’s been almost a year since he had his hair this short. 

Y/N walked into the bathroom, wearing a maroon sweater with black jeans covering her frame. “Lukey, you look handsome. Please leave it alone,” she mumbled as she took a hold of his forearm. He glanced towards her direction in the mirror before he dropped his hands from his hair.

“It’s so short,” he said as he leaned towards the mirror. She rolled her eyes as she looped her arm through his. “I didn’t think she was going to shave it like this when I said shorter on the sides,” he explained, looking at his reflection again.

“Hey,” she mumbled as she reached her hand over, taking a hold of his chin to force his gaze to her. “You look very cute,” she muttered as she leaned towards him and kissed him briefly.

“Cute’s good right? I mean for meeting your family? Cute is supposed to be-”

“Luke,” she mumbled, raising her eyebrows. He nodded, taking a deep breath as he turned on the sink to wash the remainder of the gel in his hands. “It’s just three days,” she mumbled as she rested her hand onto the bathroom counter. 

“Three days is a lot of time to mess up and make your parents hate me,” he let out as he shifted his body to fully face her. She smiled towards him while shaking her head. 

“You want the cliffnotes?” she asked him and nodded as he delicately placed his hands onto her waist. He toyed with the ends of the sweater as he looked deeply into her eyes. 

“My mom will love you. She’ll say you’re too skinny and will feed you all the cinnamon rolls you can eat. She’ll probably end up loving you more than me,” she said with a wide smile. 

“My dad likes to think he’s this big tough guy. He’ll try to intimidate you but he’ll be a big softy once he sees how much I love you,” she explained. His hands slowly looped around her waist, pulling her closer. His cheeks flushed slightly as the word love leaves her mouth.

“My sister is nosey, she’ll try to get you to blush and she’s really good at it. She may even ask about our sex life,” she explained, raising her eyebrows as she watched his eyes widened. “Don’t tell her anything,” she teased. He nodded dramatically as she rested her hands on his chest. 

“My brother will probably ask you a thousand questions about hockey.” She leaned towards him wrapping her arms around the center of his back. He squeezed her tighter. “You’ll be okay, everyone is going to love you,”

“Am I allowed to touch you, or do I avoid all contact?” he asked, she chuckled as if he was joking but he was serious. She pulled away, keeping her arms wrapped around the center of his back.

“They know you’re my boyfriend, Lovely,” she teased. 

He licked his lips nervously, “I know but are they weirded out if we cuddle on the couch or something,” he asked as he brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face. 

“Please cuddle me,” she muttered as she leaned towards him and delicately pecked his lips, “But maybe wait to kiss me until tomorrow,” she let out.

“Noted,” he muttered before he kissed her for a few more moments.

~~~

Luke drove the hour and half it took to get to her parents house. With the ran and the traffic it took thirty minutes longer than normal. Luke was quiet, taking deep breaths as he tried to calm his nerves. Every so often she would reach her hand over and squeeze his hand that was in his lap. He would smile softly towards her briefly before he would shift his gaze back to the road. 

He slowly pulled into the long driveway into her childhood home. She lived in the middle of nowhere. “You can park there, Honey,” she said as she pointed to the small gravel side of the driveway. He nodded as he slowly pulled the car into park. He let out a long drawn out huff of air as he looked towards her. “Just be yourself, my love,” she hummed as she reached her hand across to rest her hand onto his cheek. She ran her thumb across the skin of his cheek. 

“I don’t know how to do that. What if they think you’re too good for-” she silenced him by kissing him. He melted into the kiss as his body relaxed. She pulled away, keeping her lips a mere inch away from him. His eyes fluttered open as he took another deep breath, “Thank you,” he let out before he pecked her lips once more.

“Come on, Lukey,” she mumbled as she opened her passenger side door and stepped outside. The rain had stopped during the last ten minutes of their ride. He stepped out of the car as well, slamming the door shut as he squinted his eyes.

“Please don’t call me Lukey in front of them,” he whined. She fought off the smile on her lips as she shook her head.

She walked towards him as she linked her arm with his as she whispered, “I’ll think about it,” she paused, “Lukey.”

He rolled his eyes playfully as they continued up the small path towards the front door. His heart began to quicken as they stepped up onto the deck, the board creaking as they stepped towards the dark blue door. She met his gaze and he gave her a reassuring nod before she knocked a few times before she pushed the door open. She stepped inside, dragging Luke into the house. 

Her house was a small farm-like house. It was cluttered but homey. Her living room had the fireplace lit and it was already quite warm in the house.

“Mom! Y/N and her boyfriend are here!” her little brother shouted as he jumped from the couch to greet the pair at the door. Luke’s cheeks flushed red instantly as his eyes widened. Y/N glanced towards Luke admiring his pink cheeks before she looked towards her little brother. Who’s not so little anymore, he’s fifteen and already taller than their dad.

“EJ, look at you!” she let out as he jogged towards them. He hugged her instantly, chuckling. After a few seconds she pulled away and looped her arm around Luke’s again. “EJ, this is Luke,” she said, pointing towards him. Elijah lit up as he reached his hand across to Luke to shake his hand. Luke quickly returns the gesture.

“You say that like I don’t know the guy.” Elijah muttered excitedly. Luke smiled, “Great game the other night, I’m a huge fan,” he continued.

“Thanks man. Y/N tells me you’re a goalie?” Luke offered. Elijah nodded dramatically. Before their conversation could continue her parents emerged from the kitchen together. Her mother was practically tearing up at the sight of them.

“Elijah James, will you let them enter the damn house!” her mom asked teasingly. Elijah moved out of the back towards the couch to his video game he was playing. “Come in, come in!” she said excitedly. Her mom guided them towards the living room to allow the couple to breath. 

“Oh Luke, we’ve been so excited to meet you.” her mom let out as she gave him a hug, his eyes widened as he returned the hug. He looked towards Y/N awkwardly. Y/N chuckled as she hugged her dad as he was ignoring Luke and her mom was ignoring Y/N. “How was the drive?” she asked him.

“It was raining but otherwise it wasn’t too bad,” he replied, a small smile on his lips.

“Oh good, come on, dinner is ready,” she said as she began walking back towards the kitchen to walk towards the dining room.

“Two point night the other night, huh?” her dad offered, keeping his hands in his pocket as he looked Luke up and down.

“Yes Sir,” he mumbled, Y/N tried to fight off the smirk toying to her lips. Y/N gave her dad a warning look.

“That was a really impressive goal in OT,” her dad let out as he cautiously clapped his hand against Luke’s shoulder. He walked towards Elijah who was still in the living room. Luke and Y/N walked through the house, ending the conversation there.

“You’re right, he’s scary,” he whispered into her ear. She rolled her eyes playfully as they wandered into the dining room where her sister, Jasmine was sitting waiting. She lifted her gaze from her phone to see the pair walking into the room. Jasmine was her younger sister. Jasmine and Elijah are twins.

Jasmine and Elijah were vastly different. It was hard to even believe that they were twins. Jasmine had dyed red hair and was a part of the school’s theater program. Elijah was the starting goalie for the varsity hockey team. He had been since he was a freshman. Despite their many differences they were very close and they shared the same friend group.

“Hey!” she said excitedly as she lifted her gaze from her phone. “Oh he’s cuter in person, nice job sis,” she said as she scanned Luke up and down. Y/N clenched her jaw as she guided Luke to sit at the dining table. They manuvered towards the empty side of the table, where she was closer to her dad and he was closer to her mom. 

“Luke, this is Jasmine. She tends to lack a filter when talking to people,” she explained as Luke pulled out Y/N’s chair for her to sit. She smiled towards him before she sat down. Luke sat down beside her, reaching for her hand desperately. She delicately interlocked their fingers as she moved her chair closer to him.

“Get a man who pulls out my chair for me,” she said as she mocks typing in her Notes App. Luke pulls his lips between his teeth as he feels his skin get hot.

“Are you doing okay?” Y/N whispered as she leaned towards him, he met her gaze and nodded.

It took a few more minutes before the rest of her family to join them all at the dinner table. Y/N reassuringly ran her thumb across the top of his hand beneath the table. It helped him calm down, feeling her touch on his skin. 

“Luke, how many days do you get off?” her mom asked as they all started to serve themselves food. 

“I get a week off and then I have practice the day before our next game,” he explained as he added salad to his plate. 

“Will you watch the All-Star games?” Elijah asked excitedly. Luke nodded.

“My brothers are there, I have to support them,” he said, meeting Elijah’s gaze. 

“I can’t believe my sister is dating an NHL player,” he said before he took a dramatic bite of his salad. Luke chuckled nervously as he met Y/N’s gaze. 

“Luke, Y/N told us you’ve only been in Jersey for about a year. Where were you before?” her mom asked as she put all of her attention on him.

“I was in Michigan, but I’ve been a bit everywhere,” he replied before taking another bite of his food. Y/N delicately rested her finger on his knee, delicately tracing reassuring circles. 

“That’s exciting,” her mom muttered. “How are you liking Jersey?” she asked. 

“I like it a lot. It's hard to enjoy the city when I’m traveling as much as I am but I plan to stay longer in the off season to experience it,” he explained. Y/N smiled towards him with so much admiration as he spoke. Her father watched the soft smile on his daughter’s lips.

Y/N’s brought home two other boys before Luke and her father couldn’t stand them. Mainly because she never looked happy around them, but she hasn’t stopped smiling since she was home with him.

“Can we come to one of your games?” Jasmine asked. Luke lifted his gaze, looking towards Y/N for assistance. 

“Let the kid chew his food before you ask him any more questions,” her dad interrupted. Luke met his dad’s gaze and chuckled as the rest of the table laughed along.

~~~

It was a few hours after they arrived and it was past ten o’clock and her parents were already in bed. Her siblings were in the living room with Luke and Y/N. They were all watching an episode of Friends. Y/N curled up to Luke’s side, his arm was draped along her shoulder as she was nuzzled into his chest. His hand would slowly trail from her wrist all the way up to her shoulder. 

It was simple and easier than what Luke thought was going to happen. Her sister was funny and her brother was super nice. Her mom was overwhelmingly kind and her dad was slowly getting accustomed to his presence. 

“How long have you guys been together?” Jasmine asked out of nowhere. Y/N blinked slowly as she lifted her head from Luke’s chest. 

“Seven months,” she looked towards Luke and his lips turned upward slightly.

“Wow,” she muttered as she tilted her head back against the couch.

“Who asked who out?” Jasmine questioned again, Luke pursed his lips forward as his cheeks pinked up.

“I did,” he mumbled.

“How’d you do it?” Jasmine pressed with a smirk. 

He looked towards Y/N, raising his eyebrows as he asked for permission to tell her the story. 

They met through a mutual friend. Y/N’s friend, Zara, had a fling with Luke’s brother Jack for a few weeks around the playoffs run last year. After a Devils win, Y/N and Zara went out with the team to celebrate. 

While Y/N was completely uninterested in partying as well as Luke. The pair sat together and talked for several hours before they left. After they lost their playoff series, Jack and Zara fling ended horribly. Except Luke really wanted to see Y/N again. It took days to convince Jack to break no contact with Zara to get Y/N number. It worked.

They later found out that Y/N wanted her to do the same thing but Zara refused.

They spent the first month FaceTiming and texting all of the time. There was a hint of romantic tension but they never acted on it until Luke moved back to Jersey. It took thirty minutes into hanging out in person for him to ask her on a date. There was not an ounce of hesitation to say yes.

“So you guys didn’t see each other for another month?!” Jasmine asked. 

“He was back in Michigan, Jaz. It was a little hard,” Y/N said with a chuckle. 

“A bit of a long game then, Lukey Boy,” Elijah teased as he slapped his hand on the shoulder of Luke. Elijah took a long breath as he continued towards the set of stairs near the front door. “I’ll see you guys in the morning, don’t do anything weird in our house,” he said with a yawn as he walked up the stairs towards his room.

Luke chuckled nervously as he met Y/N’s eye.

“He’s a real gentleman, sis. It’s a shame there aren't more guys like him out there,” she mumbled as she dropped her gaze to the floor as she walked towards the stairs to her own room. 

Luke kept his gaze on Y/N as she watched her younger siblings leave them alone in the living room. He took a hold of her chin, delicately turning her gaze to look towards him. Their eyes met and he felt his body relax. Her eyes looked down towards his lips as she inched towards him, “Kiss me,” she let out barely above a whisper. He smiled as he glanced around the living room. “Please,” she mumbled. 

He slowly leaned towards her kissing her so delicately, not to make a scene. It had only been a few hours without feeling her lips against his and he missed it desperately. Her father had stepped down the stairs, stopping short. He looked towards the pair, desperately wanting to interrupt them. Luke’s hand slowly rested on her cheek as he pulled away, keeping his face close to hers. “You look beautiful,” he muttered.

Her lips curled upward slowly as she tilted her head to the side. “Thank you, Lukey,” she replied before she leaned towards him and rested her head onto his shoulder. 

Her father fought the smile forming to his lips as he watched the small interaction between them. The entire night, he watched Luke and Y/N put on a show of their relationship and happiness. It was comforting to watch them be fully themselves. He awkwardly shuffled down the stairs pretending that he didn’t see anything. Luke fully scooted away from Y/N as her father walked towards the kitchen.

“Are you ready for bed?” she whispered wide eyed and he nodded as a reply. 

They both stood up from the couch, out of habit Luke rested his hand onto her lower back as they walked towards the stairs. Her father smiled softly as he watched the pair climb the stairs towards her childhood bedroom. She walked towards the last room at the end of the hallway and pushed the door open. 

Luke’s eyes lingered on each childhood photo of hers on the walls of the hallway. He stared the longest at a photo of her sitting in the center of a bean bag with Elijah and Jasmin in her arms. She was smiling shyly as her eyes were staring at her little sister. “That’s a nice picture,” he muttered as he pointed towards it. 

“I was terrified of holding them,” she muttered as they continued down the hall towards her bedroom.

Her room was extremely cleaned as her mother constantly kept it from being dusty. They stepped inside and she shut the door behind them instantly as she met his eyes. Her back was against the door as he rested his hands on her hips. 

“They like you,” she muttered as she ran her hands up and down his chest slowly. He shyly smiled while his cheeks flushed red. “I mean it, my dad would’ve said something if he didn’t,” she teased. 

“I like them too,” he mumbled before he leaned towards her and kissed her delicately.

[cameronspecial]

how about we go a lil angsty? the reader hadn’t yet told him about her being pregnant bcs she remembers Drew once said he doesnt know if he wants to be a dad and so she tried to bring the topic up with hypothetical questions and his answers not exactly the thing she wanted to hear so she went all silent and pulled herself away and stuff.

I dont wanna give it away, so please you decide the ending..either they communicate and Dad!Rafe rise or…

I Want This

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Abortions and Miscommunication

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

Masterlist

Well… She doesn’t know what she expected the results to be, but this is definitely an answer. Y/N doesn’t even think she can focus on the opinion she has of this situation because all she can think about is Drew’s.

———

“Awww, Babe, look at this pic of Lils that Mac sent me,” he gushed, holding his phone up to his fiancée. She looked up from her laptop, “So cute. Ugh, I miss them so much. I mean look at those little baby rolls. I just want to cuddle the cutie.” He smiled and brought her head under the crook of his neck. “I know. We have to visit them soon. I’m so glad I have a niece. It means I can be the fun uncle forever and never have to be a dad,” he mindlessly thought out loud, going back to scrolling on his phone. This caused her to freeze; they never talked about having kids, but he was so good with them that she assumed he would want them. She should’ve asked him about it because she wanted them. She didn’t though. Kids were important to her and so was Drew. She wasn’t ready to cause a rift in their relationship because of something small. 

———

Staring at the positive pregnancy test, she has to figure out a way to gauge how he would feel about it before actually telling him the truth. Once she knows how he feels, it will help her decide how she wants to feel about it seeing that if they are on the opposite page, then she would have to make a difficult decision. She shoves the positive tests into the box and hides them in her makeup drawer. He never goes looking there. She exits the bathroom, lets out a deep breath, and heads to the kitchen to start getting lunch ready. Drew is coming home from filming in Morocco later today. The music blasting through the speakers makes her unaware of the new presence in the house. He smiles at the dancing silhouette cutting potatoes. His hand drops over her eyes and she sets the knife down with a grin. Her arms wrap around her neck to bring him down towards her. This allows her to pepper his face with kisses. “Hey, you weren’t supposed to be back until tonight,” she notices, turning the music off. His hand rests on her hip, “I was, but I was offered an early flight and I couldn’t say no to seeing my girl early. I missed you and I love you.” She sinks into his hold. “I missed and love you too.”

The couple spend the next half an hour cooking together before settling themselves at the dining room table. Since they talked to each other throughout cooking, silence falls over them. A chime comes from his phone and he checks it to see a text from his sister. “Mac is planning on coming down with Lils and my mom soon. They can stay in the guest room, right?” Drew confirms, reading over the text again. She nods, “Yeah, I’ll get it ready over the weekend and buy one of those travelling crib things for Lils. It is going to be fun to have a baby around the house. The guest room would make a nice baby room in the future. It has nice big windows and the closet is the perfect size.” The chuckle that comes out of his mouth drops her stomach into a furnace. 

“What’s so funny?” she questions. He shrugs, “Not the babysitting part. They could both use a break and I will never say no to spending time with my niece. It’s just the thought of having to turn the guest room into a baby room is funny.” 

“Oh, why?”

“I don’t know. It’s a guest room. I mean where would our family stay when they come over?” 

“Yeah, where would they stay?”

She should probably ask if he meant he can’t imagine the room as a baby room right now or if it was a forever thought; however, she is scared of the answer she is going to get so she shuts down the conversation. They sit in a new tension-filled silence that he pretends he can’t feel. 

———

After lunch, Y/N retreats to the backyard to swing in the hammock. This tells him that she needs some space and he knows she is upset when she is still outside at eleven p.m. The friction of the patio door sliding against each other makes her turn to him. She doesn’t acknowledge his presence, waiting for him to say something. He places the plate of pasta he made for dinner onto the side table beside the hammock. “I found the pregnancy tests,” he states, bringing one of the patio chairs close to her. She freezes and sits up. Her legs swing over the fabric to face him, “How?” “Maddie helped me pick out clay pot Moroccan lipstick for you and I wanted to surprise you with it. I was going to hide it in your drawer…” he explains, eyes falling to his fingers and trailing off at the end. Her head moves up and down. Her thoughts are moving around her head a thousand miles a second. He is going to break up with her. He is going to make her have an abortion. Or worse. He is going to make her choose between the baby or him on the spot. 

He grows nervous when she doesn’t say anything and his suspicions are confirmed. He understands why she is unsure about talking to him about this. The way he has spoken about having a baby in the past could’ve given her the wrong idea. He hesitantly reaches to place a hand on hers and does it when she doesn’t shy away. “I want you to know that the decision about what we do with the baby is up to you and I will be at your side during the whole process,” he assures. Her confusion causes tears to crop up in her eyes, “You don’t want the baby though. I know that, so if you are going to break up with me because I do, then just do it. But making me have to choose is kinda cruel.” His heart squeezes, hating that his words aren’t coming out as he means them to be. His head shakes like crazy and he sits beside her. He brings her head against his chest, “Babe, I don’t want to break up with you. I want to have this baby with you too.”

“You want the baby? Then how come you don’t think the guest room would be a good baby room?”

“Because my office would be a better one. The windows aren’t too big so it won’t wake the baby up in the morning and the closet there is even bigger, so when they get older they can have as many clothes as their heart desires.”

“Okay, you are right… What about when you said you want to be an uncle forever and never be a dad?”

“Honestly, I never really thought I would want to be a dad. I was content with being an uncle, but, Babe, when I found that pregnancy test, all I could think about was how happy I was to be bringing a child into the world with the most amazing woman in the world and I couldn’t wait to raise them with you.”

She leans back and rests a warm palm on his cheeks, trying to hold back her tears. “So you want to have this baby?” she verifies. He kisses the tears away, “I want this, Babe. I promise. We are going to do this. Together.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

[sleepyhollands]

false god

PAIRING harry styles x reader

SUMMARY harry’s having trouble finding enough time to spend with y/n, even after she drops everything and joins him on tour. when they talk, they only seem to argue. when they don’t, they only seem to fuck.

WARNINGS she’s an angsty one— lots of miscommunication, poorly executed arguments, and general couple fighting content. BUT!! there is lots of really cute fluff at the end :> also, beware of smutty content such as soft!dom harry (my favorite), oral (f!receiving, implied m!receiving), unprotected p in v, a brief hesitation to get naked on y/n’s part, an even more brief mention of bondage play, harry leaves like one love bite, and tooth-rotting holding each other while having sex content. lmk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT 5.5k

AUTHOR’S NOTE fun fact this was supposed to be done months ago and then literally everything that could have gotten in my way did just that. but she’s here now!! writing this was a challenge but i feel so good about it now that it’s complete and i can’t wait for you all to read it. please lmk you enjoyed by leaving feedback and/or reblogging!! special thanks to @cherryjuiceblues for beta reading for me <3 ily <3

LOVER SELECTION one-shots here.

copyright © sleepyhollands. all rights reserved. || my masterlist.

“harry, it doesn’t matter if—”

“it does to me!”

“hey, there are two people in this relationship, you know.”

“yeah, an‘ one of ’em feels like right shit on what’s meant to be the greatest tour of his life! doesn’t that mean anythin‘ to you?”

“of course it does, i just—”

“really? ’cause y’could’ve fooled me, love.”

“harry, i swear, if you interrupt me one more time, i’m booking the next flight home.” 

… tour had been going really well for harry! he was playing back to back sold out shows in some of the biggest cities in the world, with adoring fans lining up by the thousands, itching to hear him sing live. he’d already had some really sweet interactions on stage, and no crazy mishaps had occurred (he was especially proud of himself for having ensured everyone’s safety so far). just in the last week alone, he’d been nominated for three different awards for his newest album and performances. anyone could see that he was living a dream— the dream, really. the kind that only comes true once in a blue moon. 

and yet… tour had been going really poorly for harry. now, he doesn’t like to complain about much; he knows just how fortunate he is, and actively tries to see the bigger picture when frustrated. but it was really hard to zoom out of his particular situation when he was so zeroed in on a particular aspect that had been bugging him for weeks— y/n. 

don’t get him wrong! y/n herself wasn’t what was bothering him. it was more so her presence, and his… lack thereof. 

if there’s one thing harry prides himself on more than anything, it’s being an attentive lover— even in the most innocent and platonic of ways. he tries his absolute hardest to be a supportive brother, a considerate son, a (hopefully) decent role model to those who look up to him, and especially a present, loving boyfriend. and for the most part, he’s just as successful in those aspects as he is in his career. in fact, y/n regularly speaks of how harry treats her like she hangs the stars in the sky just for him, how he makes her feel like the most special girl in the world. 

but this tour was taking its toll, and harry was taking it out on y/n. he’s never been great at communicating everything in the most positive of ways— that’s where he turns to songwriting— and he’d let his emotions get the better of him after letting them build up for the past couple of weeks. he wasn’t proud of himself, but he needed an outlet. 

harry didn’t mean to start the fight. but when y/n asked him where he’d been after a last minute management meeting following that night’s show kept him an extra half hour later than he said he’d be, it was like all the frustration just erupted. inadequacy is one of his least favorite feelings (next to loneliness), and being a barely-there or only-sometimes-there boyfriend couldn’t be more of a trigger for that particular emotion. 

now here they were, vexation filling the tour bus around them like a fog they could barely see through, inhaling it with every breath and releasing it back into the atmosphere surrounding them. harry huffed out a sigh, arms crossed and brow furrowed as he angrily looked out the window of the tour bus to distract himself for a moment, having to mentally step away from the argument at hand, even if just for a few seconds. watching as the dark streets outside shined with the headlights of other vehicles, he found himself wishing he were in one of them. it would be nice to be in a car alone, nothing but his thoughts and some music to keep him company. 

but he had real company. she was standing not six feet away from him, emulating his defensive position with her arms drawn across her own chest, jaw clenching and relaxing every other moment. when he finally turned to look at her again, he exhaled loudly. 

“we were crazy to think that this could work,” he mumbled, barely audible to y/n, but she was able to make it out. 

even when they fought, the girl seemed to be in sync with him, inhaling deeply, subconsciously countering his previous expulsion of breath. the yin to his yang.

“what are you talking about?”

harry groaned at her words. how didn’t she get this? “y/n, i’m never around! i wake up when you’re still asleep, prepare for the day, go to the venue, help set up the stage, sound check, rehearse a bit, and then ’m off t’go get ready for a show that lasts two hours. almost each night! i come back exhausted and aching to sleep! where d’you see yourself fitting in there?”

when y/n realized it was her turn to speak again, she said, “first off, do you think you could please calm down a little? i can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

his eyes narrowed. “like what?”

“when you’re acting like a child, harry! i mean, for god’s sake, i’m not nine! i can handle hanging out on my own for a few days at a time and just getting to cuddle with you at night until you have a day off. it’s not like i don’t have things to do throughout the day, too.”

while harry tended to say things he didn’t exactly believe in the heat of the moment, y/n meant every word she uttered. she really was content relaxing in the tour bus or a hotel room taking care of work on her laptop, catching up on new episodes of her favorite shows, or even going out to explore whatever new city they were in by herself. harry had breaks between show days once or twice a week, and the thought of having those days to themselves was enough to sate her desire to spend time with him. it annoyed her that he didn’t understand that, as she’d never been the clingy type and was always very self-sufficient. 

“oh, i’m acting like a child, am i? right, i didn’t realize that wanting t’be present in my relationship with my girlfriend was childish, but hey, you learn something new every day, i s’pose.” 

oh, y/n was really starting to seethe now. letting her arms fall to her sides with a frustrated puff, she began again. 

“god, harry, you’re not childish for wanting to spend time together! i’m saying you need to realize that i’m perfectly capable of waiting for your days off to really spend time with you. you’re acting like we can’t function without each other!”

“the whole idea of you comin‘ on tour with me was to have this time together, y/n,” harry fired back. “if we’re barely going to get to see each other anyways, then what’s the bloody point?”

…

harry might have spoken too soon. at least, that’s what he thought as he laid overtop y/n on the tour bus couch, because now the point might very well be getting to just feel her lips on his every now and again. 

it was late; harry had just come back from a show. usually, he’s too tired to do anything but crash onto a cloud-like mattress after all the jumping around he does on that stage, but this time all he wanted was his girl. it’d started innocently enough, with harry pulling y/n into his lap on the worn, red leather of the couch. his hands roamed along her hips and down to her waist beneath her soft hoodie (which wasn’t even technically her’s, but is it really theft if harry just leaves his clothes lying around for her to nab?), exploring the soft expanse of her skin, not straying any lower. her own hands were hidden in his curls, lightly scratching at his scalp in what she hoped were soothing motions. 

harry knew he was done for once he initiated the kiss. tentative at first, he pressed light pecks along the corner of her mouth, quick and feathery, like he didn’t really care if he got to kiss her so much as he got to hold her, or simply be with her. but soon, the eagerness set in, like he wasn’t sure when the next time he’d get to have her was, and suddenly he was capturing her mouth with his own, barely giving her a chance to breathe as he tasted her. while harry never really believed in a higher power, he could have sworn he found religion in her lips. 

things only escalated from there. it wasn’t long before harry was wrapping his muscular arms around y/n, so tight that he accidentally squeezed too hard, earning a squeak from the girl. he muttered a hushed but sincere “’m sorry, darling,” to compensate. one hand supported her head, the other splayed across her back as he laid her against the cushions so that he could keep loving on her on the way down. he relished her little whimpers that she tried so hard to suppress, grinning against her jawbone, her neck, any skin he came across on his journey south to more pressing territory. 

harry didn’t bother removing y/n’s hoodie, opting instead to push it up past her naval in favor of gaining access to the waistband of her fluffy sleep shorts. he felt her hands tighten their grip ever so slightly on his shoulders as he hooked his fingers under it, relaxing again when he rubbed the pad of his thumb delicately along her hipbone, reminding her it was only him. 

it was a thing with y/n. she loved harry, of course she did, and she trusted him more than anyone. and maybe it was the way she was brought up, or perhaps a few poor experiences with sexual partners in the past, but there was always a fleeting moment of anxiety before shedding the clothing barrier before sex. like dipping a toe into a cold lake and hesitating a little, then ultimately deciding that jumping in wouldn’t be so bad. 

harry never pried. the first few times they’d slept together, he noticed her nerves, and asked her if she was sure she wanted to continue. y/n had said yes each time, and after a while, he stopped asking. but still, whenever he noticed that brief nervous shift, harry gave her a chance to change her mind. 

this time, he bided his time by sponging tender kisses right above where his fingers were still half hidden under her shorts. he wanted her to feel safe, and taken care of, and he hoped his gentle touches and even breathing could remedy her anxiety. as he waited, harry’s mind drifted…. he was getting lost in the feel of her soft skin, its dips and curves and blemishes. he thought about her waist, how his hands fit so perfectly against its sides; her tummy, and how the muscles there jolted when he tickled them; and her hips… god, if y/n’s body was a church, her hips could be the altar. harry was ready to say a prayer right then, thanking every higher power for blessing him with this gorgeous girl—

“harry?” his love’s melodic voice interrupted his thoughts, and harry’s eyes snapped up to meet hers, his nose continuing to skim just above her navel. “um… you can keep going. please.” 

the corner of harry’s mouth quirked upward, and y/n could have sworn she caught a glimpse of mischief in the jade of his irises, but it was gone in an instant, as he wasted no time in stripping her of her bottoms.

…

“god, h-harry,” panted y/n, her grip on his curls constricting with every lick to her core, “’s so good, oh—”

“would feel even better if y’stopped trying t’run away from me, wouldn’t it? don’t wanna have to tie you down.”

y/n couldn’t help it! it wasn’t her fault if harry’s tongue was just too good and her body’s natural reaction was to attempt to escape his grip for a little relief. if anything, he should be happy— they’d been at this for so long y/n lost count of the minutes, and after two toe-curling orgasms, one would think harry’s jaw could use a break. 

but that thought flew out the window when y/n remembered who she was metaphorically in bed with. 

“’m sorry…,” she whimpered, gripping the side of the couch cushion as her eyes squeezed shut.

“don‘ have to be sorry, darling,” harry mumbled against her folds, chin glistening with her arousal as he placed a soft kiss to y/n’s clit, making her jolt in his hold. he breathed a short laugh, adjusting his arms so that one held her upper thigh next to his head, while the other pinned her hips to the red leather, restricting her ability to move. “jus’ wanna make you feel as good as possible, is all. will y’let me?”

harry turned his head, nipping at the inside of the girl’s thigh, and she gasped at the brief assault on the softest skin of her body, now adorning the mark of his front teeth that she loved so much. she shuddered a breath as best she could, and harry could tell by the way her knuckles were turning white in their grip on the couch that she was trying her best to be good. feeling a twinge of guilt, he figured maybe he should offer her a second to breathe. y/n opened her eyes when she felt harry’s lips retreat from her aching cunt and the weight of his head rest against the love bite. 

“hey.”

y/n cast her gaze down upon the boy (who looked far too innocent, considering what they were doing) with his cheek laid on her inner thigh, stray hairs tickling her just a tad. playfulness swam in his eyes, but there was an underlying current of concern. 

“doin‘ okay?”

she nodded, gulping. harry noticed. 

“because we can take a break if you want to. just say the word, okay?”

“i will, i-i promise. but… can you please keep going?”

that was all he needed to get right back into it, only with even more fervor than before. when y/n reached her third and final peak of the night, her whole body shook, and harry had the pleasure of getting to watch as he helped her ride out her high. he almost came in his pants, rutting his hips into the sofa, moaning against her core, begging her give it t’me, love, that’s it.

harry pulled back when she started pushing at his head, whining for relief as he gave one final lap at her core. he grinned at her fucked-out figure as he wiped his face on his forearm, then took her hand that had been grasping at the cushion in one of his, bringing the back of it to his lips for a gentle kiss. 

“feel all right, baby?”

“mhm,” she hummed between heaving breaths, glancing at what she assumed could only be a quite painful stiffy between his legs as he sat up, “do you?”

harry followed her line of vision, offering her a chuckle and an i’m fine, using his free hand to smooth his thumb along her brow. before he could even register it, her palm slipped from the grip of his other hand and traveled down to rub against the bulge in his pants, earning a sharp hiss from her boyfriend and a deep groan soon after. 

“why don’t you let me repay the favor?”

…

harry was pretty sure y/n was asleep. if she wasn’t, she was definitely on the verge— her breaths were deep and even as she laid in his hold, her head on his chest, ear pressed overtop his steadily beating heart. and who could blame her? the evening’s activities had worn her out, which meant harry had done his job properly. he was more than happy to be wide awake, running his fingertips up and down her arm, inhaling the sweet scent of her fruity body wash while she dreamt if it meant she was rested and content and happy. 

moments like these made harry think they could get away with it. the long hours spent apart, the hectic schedules, the fighting. sure, it was tough, and yes, they both had a temper that rivaled one another’s for the ‘least amount of patience award’ on any given day. but every missing ounce of patience was compensated by double its weight in love. they loved one another enough to make it work. 

they could make this work. 

right?

…

“jesus, harry, how do you think that makes me feel? you’d honestly rather i not be here? are you actually that insecure?”

“c’mon, y/n, you know tha’s not what i meant.”

y/n felt like they were going around in circles, having the same fight over and over again. only this time, the couple found themselves in a beautiful hotel room, with a beautiful view overlooking a beautiful city. and instead of getting to enjoy it, y/n was glaring at harry though the vanity mirror, his back facing her as he tamed his wild curls for tonight’s show… which he had to leave for in just a few short minutes. 

the balled up fist on y/n’s hip flew up to her face, fingers flexing to pinch at the bridge of her nose as her eyes squeezed shut for a moment. 

“i can’t believe this. i dropped everything to be here with you— to support you on the most incredible tour of your career— and instead of being happy i’m here as opposed to the alternative of thousands of miles away in a different time zone for months, you’re sitting here bitching about being too tired?” 

harry sighed deeply, only infuriating y/n more. “you’re missing the point. ’s not that i don’t want you here, or just that ’m too tired. ’s knowing you’re sitting around by yourself, waiting on me while ’m working, when you could be out with friends and family, or sleeping in the comfort of your own bed—”

“that you’re not in!” the girl loudly interjected— how didn’t he get this? “i put all those things aside for us, har. it’s not like i’m leaving my life behind for years. christ’s sake, the tour is over in two months! but somehow, being away from my home and routine is easier than being in the same room as you right now.”

harry contemplated his next words carefully, turning them over in his head a few times and editing any obvious mistakes, leaving the pair of them to marinate in suffocating silence for a good ten or so seconds before he finally spoke. 

“y/n… i can’t be a good boyfriend and a serious artist simultaneously, okay? not while ’m on tour. i can’t keep losing sleep over how well i’m balancing—”

“okay, you know what, harry? you know what? maybe you should just leave me, then. wouldn’t that be easier? you’d be able to sleep better at night, right?”

they both knew she didn’t mean it, though harry couldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt to hear. but she was pissed, and harry knew better than to try to reason with her when she was like this. 

when she realized he wasn’t going to respond, instead electing to stare brokenly into the mirror, she continued. “you know damn well how hard i work for this relationship. i’ve flown across the oceans that have separated us, driven for hours just to get to see you for, like, one— hell, i’ve skipped some of my most important classes so we could go to shitty dive bars in the middle of the day together! yeah, remember that? i love you, okay? people who love each other are supposed to be grateful for any time they have together at all, no matter if it’s every day or once a year.”

y/n took a breath, finally cooling down after her heated rant. she took a moment to take in the sight of her boyfriend, dressed so vibrantly, feeling anything but. 

“they warned us about times like this,” the defeated tone of y/n’s whisper was enough to finally get harry to say something. 

“what was that, love?”

the girl swallowed the little saliva in her mouth before speaking up a mere decibel. “remember what my parents said? ‘the road gets hard, and you get lost when you’re led by blind faith,’” she imitated her father’s deep voice, and if not for the circumstances, harry might’ve laughed. 

they weren’t lost, were they?

…

if there was such a thing as heaven on earth, y/n is pretty sure she’s been there. in fact, she goes there whenever harry so much as touches her. 

when he kisses her shin as they lay watching a movie together on the couch, pulling her leg up off his lap and craning his neck downward to meet it in the middle. when he runs his fingers down the bridge of her nose, making an exaggerated boop! noise once he reaches the tip, gently pressing against it like a doorbell. and especially when he has her like this. 

harry’s arms felt secure wrapped around y/n’s torso, her hips moving back and forth atop his own. the feeling of his cock twitching and shifting inside her while her nipples rub deliciously along his chest made her dizzy, like she had just gotten off a loopy rollercoaster. harry’s back arched just slightly off the plush mattress of their hotel suite’s bed when y/n gave a little bounce, arms constricting around her and forcing a pleased sigh to fall from her lips. 

the girl hid her face in the crook of his neck, and harry could feel each and every hot breath against his skin. lost in pleasure, he let his large hands migrate from her hips down to her bum, where he gave a small pinch to the flesh, eliciting a yelp and a small jolt from y/n. 

“sorry, baby,” he laughed, “couldn’t help m’self.” harry gently flattened his palm against the now tender skin, rubbing there softly in an attempt to soothe the little ache he left. when he felt satisfied, he shifted to rubbing between her shoulder blades instead, his other arm still wrapped around her lower back as she returned to her previous rhythm above him. 

y/n could tell harry was enjoying himself. his groans alone were evidence enough, not to mention the little utterances of “shit, darling,” and “so good t’me,” he frequently let slip. but perhaps he just needed a bit more to reach his high, because without warning his hands were on her thighs, gripping tightly as he began to thrust upwards into her at a much quicker pace than she had originally set— it had her seeing stars in a matter of mere seconds. 

“oh, god— harry,” y/n gasped out, gripping the edge of the plush pillow by harry’s ear. she could feel him hitting that special spot inside her with every snap of his hips, and she couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling back into her head, muscles tightening all throughout her body. 

“almost there, angel… just…,” harry’s thrusts began to slow, becoming more deliberate, and now he was moving her hips to grind against his each time they met, sending y/n over the edge. 

y/n’s moans were long and drawn out as she came, body spasms making her hold on more tightly to harry for stability. she didn’t even hear him finish, too busy reveling in the euphoric feeling of cumming in his arms, surrounded by warmth and love and feeling the safest she had in a long while. 

it was moments like these where y/n couldn’t fathom how she’s ever been upset with harry. he was perfect, lying here under her unsteady body, breathing deeply not only to catch his breath, but to take in the smell of her. she wanted this for eternity. and if this was heaven, then surely hell was when they fought with each other. 

…

y/n thought she was dreaming at first, not used to being roused from her slumber by anything other than her well-timed alarm and the occasional bark of a dog on a nearby street. she expected that after blinking the sleep from her eyes a few times, the vague image of her favorite boy would dissipate, and she’d fall back into the comfort of her warm pillow. but when she squeezed them shut once, then twice, and her boyfriend’s face was still a foot away from her’s, brushing his fingertips up her nose and along her brow, she set aside her exhaustion in exchange for confusion.

now, harry knew better than to wake y/n up. in most circumstances, she’d tell him off, or gently kick at him to get him to leave her alone. he found it rather endearing, and it’s one of the reasons he’s so protective of her in her sleep— always holding her close to keep her safe, shielding her eyes from any light intruding on the space she lay, making sure both their phones were set to ‘do not disturb.’ but he had to make an exception, just this once. 

“darling,” she barely registered his whisper, “wake up f’me, please?”

a whine fell from y/n’s lips, her eyes scrunching shut as she turned her body away from him, which harry knew was code for let me sleep, for fuck’s sake! a smile graced his lips at the action, jotting down a mental note to make this up to her later. 

compensating for the newfound distance between them, harry scooted closer to her. he kneeled on the floor next to the bed, close to the pillows she rested upon. he laid one arm against the mattress, perching his chin on the back of his wrist. using his free hand, he continued to brush his fingertips lightly against his love’s cheek, her jaw— all along her face, really. god, her loves her face so much.  

“please, baby?”

harry had just come back from one of his best performances yet— the crowd’s energy was unmatched, the chemistry between him and his band members was palpable, and he’d managed to not get hit with any flying objects all night! but what really did it for him was the fan project he was surprised with at the end of the show. thousands of people in the room wore light-up bracelets that shone pink and blue during one of his favorite songs, ‘love of my life.’ if harry’s heart had been any more full in that moment, it might’ve exploded right there in his chest. 

he had been on cloud nine for a moment. but soon, realization washed over him in a way that squeezed at his lungs, stealing his breath for a second. the love of his life was somewhere miles away, probably sitting in their hotel room watching a comfort film, oblivious to anything he was feeling on that stage. he just wanted to go home to her and gush about what had happened, and how he wished she’d been there, and how it made so much sense that it would happen during ‘love of my life’ because it was the perfect representation of the amount of love he had for his, and how if she’d have been there, he would have looked directly at her and smiled the whole time. 

it made him realize how bloody stupid he was.

in retrospect, the conversation he’d needlessly just woken y/n up for could have waited until morning. but then harry wouldn’t have been able to sleep if he didn’t tell her he was sorry right away. 

a groan sounded through the room, followed by the ruffling of bedsheets as the girl turned back over to glare annoyedly at harry. he let out a soft laugh at her behavior. 

“’m sorry, baby. know you jus‘ wanna sleep right now, but ’s it okay if we talk for a mo‘?”

“now?” y/n asked in a gravelly voice.

“now, m‘ love.”

with a soft sigh, she relented, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her knuckles. harry caught the motion, bringing his hands up to pull hers away from her face. he didn’t like when y/n did that, as she always managed to do it too roughly. instead, he held her smaller hands in his own, getting up to sit on the edge of the bed, facing her. 

“what is it?” y/n asked through a yawn. harry looked at her for a moment— really looked at her— before responding.

“i’m sorry.”

it took her a moment to register his words. “for waking me up?”

harry laughed that dreamy laugh she loved so much, and it almost made up for the fact that she was up at twelve thirty in the morning. “no, y’little minx. not for that. well, yes, for that, but that’s not what i meant.”

“what are you sorry for, then?” 

harry looked at her with an expression y/n couldn’t place. it look him a few beats to speak. “i… i’m sorry i was such a prick before. i love that you’re here, an‘ that i get t’see you when i’m off. know you put aside a lot for this, an‘ i ruined it with m’own problems. didn’t mean to.”

y/n’s features softened at the boy’s sincerity, and if it weren’t for the warmth his hands encapsulating hers provided, she’d have reached out and held his face, peppering kisses over every dip and curve. 

“i know you didn’t…. i’m sorry, too.”

“for what?”

“i should’ve listened better. you were trying to tell me how you felt and i just disregarded it. that wasn’t very nice of me, either.”

the right corner of harry’s lips tugged upwards, morphing his mouth into that little half-grin y/n adored so much. “think we can get past it, darling?”

the girl scooted forward the tiniest bit, harry’s magnetic pull too hard to resist. though they were the only two in the room, she whispered, “i’ll forgive you if you forgive me.” harry liked how she made something so simple sound like a secret deal between them.

harry’s half-smile quickly quirked up, completing itself, and y/n swooned over his dimples and adorable bunny teeth. a short and quiet breath of a laugh fell past his lips, and for a moment, he just looked at her. but his gaze caught a glimpse of uncertainty in her eyes, and his grin faltered a bit. 

y/n was always good at hiding her true emotions when she wanted to. not when it really mattered, don’t get her wrong— she wasn’t one to take anyone’s shit. but at dinner with her parents or meetings at work, she was able to pretend she wasn’t exhausted or annoyed. it never worked with harry, though. he could read and understand her like his own lyrics, and tonight was no exception. he saw through the mask of humor at her uncertainty, and a pang of guilt bloomed in his chest. 

he let out a sigh as he beckoned her forward by gently tugging her hands, still in his, toward him. “c’mere, baby,” he said softly, pulling his love into his lap. y/n curled into him, knees tucked upward into her chest as his strong arms found purchase around her frame, holding her tenderly but securely. one of harry’s large hands held the back of her head against him, her ear right over his heart, listening to it beat for her. 

“love you like crazy. you’ve no idea.” he peppered light kisses to the top of her head, so softly she might’ve missed one or two. “thank you for comin‘ an‘ s’porting me. means the world, honestly.” 

“i’m happy to be anywhere with you, har,” she replied in a voice honey-thick with sleep. “even if it’s just for a few minutes. always so happy to have you.”

harry closed his eyes, laying back into the pillows, bringing y/n down with him so that she was laying overtop his sturdy body, inhaling his every exhale. 

“you have me,” he said, though he was almost certain she didn’t hear him, likely already pulled into the void of sleep, drawn in by the comfort of harry’s arms, his smell, him. 

“you’ll always have me.”

taglist (final time using the old one, see new link in bio): @fahsey @caswinchester2000 @lmaotshollandd @jackiehollanderr @nervousdadmode @amii-nyc @skitmix @auggie2000 @voguesir @yourgoldengirls @hunnybunimdun @lolooo22 @atoris-fantasy

[urfavoritegirlkisser]

"Midnight Rain" - Rockstar!Ellie Williams x Popstar!Reader

a/n - finally getting back to writing!! it's been tough with school and stuff but I was finally able to write this, which had three drafts of how it could maybe go so enjoy!

Tags: Fem!Reader, Fem!Popstar!Reader, Rockstar!Ellie, wlw, slightly suggestive since it's kinda implied they had a one night stand, lightly proof read sorry babydolls, petnames like sweetheart and honey, playboy!Ellie, asshole!Ellie kinda, use of y/n, a little angsty won't lie, insecure!reader, lemme know if I forgot anything xoxo

You wake up to the constant ping of your phone on your nightstand, quickly realizing this wasn’t the hotel room your manager had arranged for you and registering the faint sound of the shower running.

Sitting up, you let yourself fully wake up before reaching over to grab your phone from the nightstand

The top one is a message from your manager with the link to a news article

“Pop Star Y/N Not As Innocent As She Seems?”

The article is about some grainy photos and a video of you last night at an after party with Ellie, who is in a rock band under the same label as you, it was your first big win taking home a Grammy for ‘Best New Artist’ and you decided to let yourself loose for once.

Your management wanted to keep up this facade of a sweet young pop star and that meant no ‘going wild’ as your manager liked to call it.

So the photos of you dancing and making out with Ellie Williams, who was known for her bad reputation and playboy tendencies was not good for your reputation apparently.

Speak of the devil…

You realize the shower has turned off and you see as Ellie walks into the room, clad in just a sports bra and sweats as she dries her hair off with a towel.

She looks over and smirks, “Well look who finally decided to wake up” she says with a chuckle and offers you a shirt of her own

You blush slightly, putting on the shirt before grabbing your discarded undergarments and quickly slipping them on, “My manager messaged me an article, apparently someone took some photos and videos of us last night at the party”

Ellie sits on the bed with her back against the headboard, “So? Not the first time this has happened” she says while fiddling with the rings on her fingers

You sigh and roll your eyes, “I mean to you maybe, but my manager is currently on my ass about what we’re supposed to do now and-”

Ellie cuts you off with a scoff, “Sweetheart it’ll be fine, they’ll circulate the pictures for a few weeks and then everyone will be over it”

You sit there before turning to her fully, “Will you be over it too?” you ask softly

The look in her eyes makes you regret even asking that.

“What? You think this is going to continue once you walk out that door?” she says with a laugh that makes your heart drop to your stomach, “Look you’re cute and all but I have a reputation to keep, honey”

You felt stupid, because of course this would just be a one time thing for her, and you knew that.

Maybe you thought you would be the one to change that.

“Right…sorry, yeah, I’m gonna go” you say as you take off her shirt and just put on the dress you wore to the after party, grabbing your things and making your way to the door of Ellie’s hotel room.

“Honey, don’t be like that” Ellie calls after you but you simply walk out the door and to the elevators where you go to your room a couple floors up, setting your stuff down, changing into casual clothes and sitting down on your bed.

You don’t know why you thought that you could change her mind, it was a fun night, but one that was meant to be forgotten.

Everyone will forget it happened, including Ellie.

You’ll forget it happened.

an - sorry if that was all over the place, I rewrote this like three times, anyways go drink water you girl kissers xo

[kookslastbutton]

Love's Remedy, On Fire ༓ jjk (m) l ch. I

✑ Summary: Jungkook is a romantic. He comes from a highly intelligent family who wants him to carry out the lineage. Being this way, he goes to college to be a pharmacist but his friends say college isn't just about studying! With a little persuasion, he goes to his first frat party thinking his hat will help him pick up a girl-or woman he means.

Pairing: STEM major!virgin!jungkook x STEM major!hot girl!reader

AU/genre: angst, smut, fluff, s2l, college au, mini-series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 3,027

Warnings: jk is very cute and determined, jk a romantic, oc has philophobia (fear of relationships), oc is not mean here but she teases jk, feat Jackson and Jae-beom, if i missed warning lmk!

Now Playing: seven, summertime sadness, she’s kerosene, angels like you+

A/N: um ok I swear this was supposed to be a pwp crack fic about jk wanting to get laid with a hat on. This turned into a very angsty but fluffy series and I'm sorry 😬 lmk what you think and tysm for reading! 💞 I know title is sucky

ch. lI >> | series masterlist

Over the entirety of his nineteen years, Jungkook was pushed to prepare for one thing—college entrance exams.

It was a huge deal and getting into one of the leading universities in South Korea was a must for him. You see, the Jeons were nobody to laugh at with the bulk of them being high-ranking medical doctors, engineers, and lawyers. Continuing this legacy, therefore, was far from a choice, Jungkook had to follow suit.

When the results of the exams came back Jungkook passed with flying colors. It wasn't a surprise though since he spent all his time studying his ass off until the dawn. Jungkook indeed got accepted into one of the most prestigious universities in Seoul and his parents, teachers, and friends were quick to give their congratulations. He felt good too...no, he felt damn good.

Now he was here he was, standing in the middle of campus with his bag slung over one shoulder and a few orientation papers in his hand. It was still the first week of classes and he desperately needed to get to the science building. (He had chosen to follow his father's footsteps and go into biochem).

"Excuse me," he asks with nervous eyes and a wobbling lip. "Do you happen to know where the science building is? I'm late for class but I can't seem to find it."

The student he walks up to for directions looks about his age. He isn't sure if she's in her first year like him but she looks competent with the way she's standing, feet spread apart and a hand on her hip. The skirt she's sporting is incredibly short but the top is full length. She's smacking on hot pink gum as well, popping bubbles every now and then.

"Keep walking straight until you see the statue of President Kim, then take a right. The science building will be right there." You hardly spare him a glance but you make the mental note that he's cute with his fluffy black hair and big lost eyes. You consider asking his name but you shrug the feeling. He was cute yes, but he was too cute which isn't your type.

Jungkook gives a small thank you and walks off. Your directions are vague, but hopefully finding the statue will help him. After a few steps, he looks over his shoulder to see you laughing with your friend.

You have a gorgeous smile.

Probably the last time he'll see you though, he thinks. Jungkook isn't sure how he'd be with a woman given the fact he's never been with one. Surely he'd do better than half the dumbasses out there but guys like him don't stand a chance with a woman like you.

You look like you go for the experienced type and that wasn't him. He goes back to what he was doing, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Hey man, what's your name?" A young guy with bleached blonde hair slides into the seat next to him. Apparently, he wasn't the only one late. "I'm Jackson." The man goes in for a fist bump but stops when it's very obvious it won't be reciprocated.

"I'm Jungkook," he says, more concentrated on what his professor is saying than anything else. Jackson continues talking, however, despite his focused state.

"So, I'm assuming this is your first year?" Jungkook nods. "Me too. Where you from?"

"Busan."

"Cool cool, I'm from Hong Kong." Hearing this makes Jungkook shift his eyes over immediately. The last thing he expected was to meet someone from China. Was this Jackson dude just pulling his leg or was he being serious? Nevertheless, it intrigues him.

"I'm an exchange student." Jackson clarifies. "Always wanted to see what South Korea was like and I know Seoul's got a pretty thriving economy so..." He shrugs. "Figured I'd give it a go and my parents support it. As long as I stay on my doctor's track of course."

Well damn. A doctor was not what Jungkook assumed a guy like Jackson would be going for. This was a prestigious school but it's still a gen ed class they're in right now. Anyone from most majors could be taking it. If he had to guess, Jackson would be a businessman.

"Well enough about me though," Jackson quips. "What do you study?"

"Biochem. My dad works as a physician and my mom's a chemical engineer. I'm going for pharmacology."

"Shit bro," Jackson cusses freely. Jungkook doesn't mean to jump in response but he does. Being all formal talk at home, it's unventured territory. "You guys must be a family of geniuses. Wait...what's your last name?"

"Jeon?"

Jackson nearly falls back in his chair when he hears the name fall from Jungkook's lips. He covers his mouth with both hands to keep himself under wraps. "Are you serious? You're from the Jeon family? Fuck, man, I've been hearing about your family since I was a kid that's how influential your family has been in the medical industry."

Jungkook finds himself intertwining his hands. His family is well-established in what they do but it never occurred to him that they were that well-known. Sure his dad's been featured in a couple of magazines for his work and his mom's been given several awards for her research. But he didn't think they'd gone that publicly beyond their own town.

"Oh shit I'm sorry. Am I making you uncomfortable talking about this? Promise you I'm not a creep or anything!" The urgency in Jackson's tone stirs up the classroom, peers looking over at the two of them in annoyance.

"Do you mind shutting up?" A chestnut-haired boy is the first to speak up. He looks thoroughly pissed, to say the least with his cat-like eyes narrowing at the both of them. "Some of us actually want to graduate here."

"Chill out man. We're sorry." Jackson gives Jungkook a small tight-lipped smile. "We'll talk later."

"We will?"

Jackson gives him a slap on the back. "Yeah it's a given. You and I," he gestures between the two of them. "We should stick together. Being that we're both new around here and we both studying med. Also, was going to wait to tell you but I wanna go to this awesome party that goes on that kicks off the year. You'd think I'd be confident to go by myself but if you're free, I could use a buddy."

A party. Some blonde-haired boy who could very likely become the center of attention wants him, Jeon Jungkook, to go to a party? Jungkook spends most of his time playing video games, studying chem tables, and watching p—well he shouldn't say that part out loud.

"If you don't want to then I get it." Jackson scratches his head. "I don't wanna pressure you or anything. We did just meet and I just thought you looked cool so...."

"Okay." Jungkook accepts before giving it much thought. Besides studying, he was told college was a time to also let loose and have fun. Freedom and all that. That's what his friends back home told him at least. They also mentioned getting laid but...who would give him that fat chance?

If anything, maybe he'll get a friend by going to this little party. Jungkook shoots a small smile in return.

"Okay listen," Jackson says, opening the door to his black Lexus. "I heard this party gets crazy so just be smart and don't get into too much punch."

Jungkook hops in the passenger seat. "But I love punch." He straps his seatbelt in, totally unaware of the punch Jackson"s referring to.

"It's spiked Kook. And I'm guessing your alcohol tolerance is pretty low?" Jackson twists the key and pulls out of the campus parking lot. He doesn't mean to be insulting or anything but his new buddy doesn't look like the party-hardy kinda guy.

In fact, Jungkook decided to....well, wear a hat to this gig. It's not a baseball cap, beanie, or even a greasy cowboy hat.

It's a sunhat. Black at least.

"By the way Jungkook. I don't wanna sound like a dick or anything but can you explain the thing on your head? Because the rest of you looks great, black dress shirt and jeans."

"Oh um." Jungkook rubs his hands on his thighs. He's embarrassed to tell Jackson the truth but he's his buddy now, right? Maybe this can be a bonding thing for them. "I thought it was cute? I mean I wanna...ah." Jungkook lets out a nervous chuckle.

"What is it, man? I promise I won't judge."

"I wanna," he starts again. "Uhm you see I heard that if you wear something out of the ordinary that people will like you more or something. Like they'll be interested..."

"Mhm, cute and out of the ordinary things huh? What kind of people are you trying to impress Jungkook?" Jackson gives a knowing smirk. Who knew his buddy schemes these kinds of stuff.

Jungkook speeds through the answer. "Grs."

"Say it properly and slower."

"Wanna get a girl....woman! I mean...a woman." Jungkook sheepishly grins at Jackson. Please don't laugh at me, he begs silently.

"You dog!" Jackson pushes Jungkook's shoulder. "My little buddy is a man, well well well. So are you looking for a girlfriend or something else?"

"Wife!" Jungkook bugs out his eyes, no hesitation at all. Jackson struggles not to give even the slightest snort. Didn't Jungkook know what kind of party this is?

"That's very sweet but this isn't the place you're going to find a wife, Jungkook. That's more like if we were going to a speed dating thing....this, this is a frat party, little bro."

Jackson pulls up to the front of the giant, lit-up house. They could hear electronic music blasting outside and all over the lawn were shirtless guys and scantily-dressed women. Some were off making out while others were drinking in groups.

Jungkook tenses at the sight. He used to fancy black tie parties where everyone is dressed to the hill and drinking is moderate. Jackson is right, he is not finding a wife here. Dammit. But he really doesn't want to give up his hat.

"Yo Jackson," a guy with pitch-black hair greets the man with a fist bump. So that's how it's done, Jungkook observes. "Glad you could make it!"

"Jae-beom, what's good man?! I wouldn't miss this party for the world. I brought a friend." He ushers Jungkook to come forward. "This is Jungkook. He's in my class."

"Nice to meet you Jungkook!" Jae-beom moves in for a fist bump which ends up making contact with Jungkook's fist. It's not as sharp as with Jackson but it's a fist bump. "I used to work with Jackson over the summer. Always stealing my tips this man!"

"Hey, I did not do that!" Jackson gives a hearty laugh and shoves Jae-beom hard enough for him to lose his balance a little. "You kept leaving for a smoke. I had to wait your tables half the time!"

"I wasn't going for a smoke Jack—woah hey baby. What's your name?" The man shifts his focus to the girl walking past them. She has bright red lipstick, a black crop top, and jean shorts.

"Fuck off." She snaps before looking at Jungkook. "Cute hat by the way."

Everyone looks at Jungkook at that moment who's motionless. They hope to god he says something back but he only stares. The girl smirks at him and quirks her head to the side. "What's your name? I gotta friend who'd be all over you in a heartbeat, though she'd never admit it."

Jackson throws a mouth over his hand, eyes wide in amusement. This girl did not just propose Jungkook, his buddy who's looking for a wife, to get off with her friend.

"Um...yeah no. No, it's okay but thanks." Jungkook can barely sound the words. This girl in front of him was really, really hot but intimidating. "Yes thank you but I'm looking for a..."

"Don't-" Jackson lunges forward.

"Wife." Jungkook smiles at the girl a little too angelically. "I'm Jungkook though. What's your name?"

The girl bites her lip. "Well, it's too bad then Jungkook. Because you're so fucking cute and I know you'd like each other. Why don't you meet her? Even if it's just to say hi?"

Jungkook looks at Jackson who only shrugs. "Up to you man."

Jungkook makes his way through the heavy crowd. He bumps into a few people on the way but thankfully he's able to still see the girl, apparently who goes by Crystal.

Jungkook isn't convinced it's her real name but if that's what she wants to be called who is he to dispute?

Once they get to the other side of the room, Jungkook spots a woman with a tight black dress on. It falls mid-thigh and has laced-up sides. When they near the woman Jungkook feels himself sweating bullets.

"__!" Crystal taps on your shoulder. "I brought you, someone, to meet. This is Jungkook!"

You turn around, drink in hand. You look fucking stunning. Jungkook can't believe it's you. He's seeing you again and he wishes he didn't wear this damn hat now! He goes to yank it off but Crystal stops him.

"Hey, the hat's cute. Keep it on!"

"I-but," he looks at you. "But it's making me hot." You're making me hot.

You give a shrug. "Do what you want Jungkook. It's your head at stake." You take a sip of your drink. You really did not expect to see the shy guy from this morning be at a frat party. "Good to see you again."

"Oh, you know each other?"

"We had a slight run in this morning. Baby had to get to the science building." You take a scan at what he's wearing. Black shirt that cuts at the elbows, denim jeans, and sneakers. Not bad compared to the sweater he was wearing this morning.

"I'm—I'm not a baby." Jungkook can't stop himself from feeling offended. Whether you meant it to be condescending or not, he doesn't want to be seen as a baby! Especially not to you. "I'm a man, okay? I go to the gym and stuff."

"Okay I'm sorry," you say. "I just call everyone baby. I didn't mean anything."

That doesn't seem to relax Jungkook. "I can lift a fuck ton of weights too." He stops once he hears himself cuss out loud. Usually, he does that in his head....goddamn it.

"Mmm," you step towards him, careful not to touch him. Usually by now you'd already be in the bathroom getting railed by some punk but not tonight. Jungkook has your attention. "Can you now? I'm not sure if I believe you. You're kind of a twig, not to be rude or anything."

Jungkook's face turns to a darker shade, eyes piercing into yours. "I can show you I'm not lying."

"Go ahead, do what you will." You fake a yawn until you find yourself suddenly in his arms. They're a lot stronger and more muscular than you thought. "Jungkook! Put me down!"

Everyone at the party starts staring over, giggling at each other. Jungkook gives a satisfied grin. "I have you in my arms, what are you gonna do now? Not believe me again?"

"I-" You're certain your face glowing with embarrassment. "Um no, I believe you Jungkook. Please, set me down."

"Not til you say it --." He challenges-brat. "Say I'm not a baby."

"Jungkook I told you I call everyone baby. It wasn't-okay you're not a baby. Obviously, you lift a lot now please put me down."

Finally, he does what you ask, a proud face on. His hat is a little crooked so you reach out and fix it. It's a reflexive response, you don't even know what you're doing let alone Jungkook.

"Oh, sorry your hat was just-"

"Please go out with me. On a date I mean?" He's so terribly timid but he can't help himself now. He had you in his arms and you're just so beautiful and charming. He needs to know more about you. It's a must.

"Well, I-" Everyone waits for your answer, very nosy clearly. You look at Jungkook with his big eyes and pouty lips. You don't wanna say no but relationships aren't your thing. And it seems that is defiantly all he's in for.

Jungkook's shoulders sulk. He isn't expecting a yes but he was hoping that maybe you'd give him a tiny chance.

"Come on __," Crystal whispers. "Look at him. Don't you think he's cute? Like really cute?"

You look at your best friend with weary eyes. He's so cute but, there's that but. That relationship but. He's going to be the type to want to do all the couple things and snuggle and everything. Jungkook needs someone who is willing to do all the stuff and you? You're not good at any of it.

"I'm sorry Jungkook," you start. "I don't know if-"

"One date __. If it's a no I won't bother you again. I just....I just think you're really gorgeous and I wanna get to know you. That's all." He takes the hat off his head, letting his fluffy hair run free. You kinda wanna touch it if it didn't makes things weird.

His words, however, make your heart thump the tiniest amount. The only time you've ever been called gorgeous is when guys try to get in your bed. It's all you've known other than maybe from a relative. Gorgeous is used pretty regularly, you know that, but this time it's used in an entirely different context.

"I'll tell you what," he says, pulling out his phone. "I'll give you my number and if you change your mind text me or call. I won't bug you and you can delete it right after this if you want, I promise."

You end up taking his number and Jungkook leaves to go back to his buddies. "You should go out with him __," Crystal says.

"I don't know." You watch him stride away. "I'll think about it."

A/N: what am i doing? Idk im running away now bye! lmk what you think and tysm for reading! Comment/ask to be on taglist 💞

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 26

Warnings: 18+, angst, alcohol consumption, weed, mentions of vomiting, mentions of sex, mentions of cunnilingus, clueless reader, jealousy

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: During a spontaneous birthday 'party', you find some things out, things that maybe should've been left unsaid.

Word count: 6k+

A/N: So, this chapter took a whole turn while I was writing it. It was supposed to head into a whole different direction but my angsty heart, had to say no to the fluffy route. @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me, you're amazingggg

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-

Steve lied. 

He lied again. 

It’s something he hasn’t done in a while. 

He promised himself to never do it again, knowing how much damage it had caused in the past, in both relationships that he had. 

This lie is harmless, though. At least, he thinks that it is. 

He spent the day with Robin and Dustin, they had surprised him with a homemade birthday cake that Robin had made with Chrissy’s help, it would’ve been a cute one, had Dustin not ruined it with his Star Wars decorations. Lucas and Max showed up as well, ‘surprising’ him by throwing a bunch of balloons and confetti at him. 

They made him blow out the candles, before forcing him to open all the presents. Dustin’s present was not surprising, at all. A Star Wars movie collection. Lucas had given him a keychain, with a little basketball pendant. Max acted all careless as always, shrugging it off when he gave her a kind smile and a ‘thank you’, yet, she gave him one of the best presents, a collection of polaroids of him with the teens, with Robin and even you, along with new records, claiming that he needs to expand his music taste. He has yet to unwrap Robin’s presents. 

They ate cake, went to the movies and the diner. And afterwards, Steve drove everyone home. Robin didn’t believe him when he said that he made plans with his parents for the evening, that they’d come home to spend his birthday with him. She was suspicious, not buying the lies he was feeding her with, Steve could tell but she had no choice but to say goodbye when he dropped her off at home, he really didn’t want her to stay longer than she had to, he wanted to be alone, by himself. So, when she begrudgingly got out of the car and gave him a sad smile, he gave her a cheerful one back, pretending to be happy when he was feeling anything but it. 

He didn’t go home. He knew that his parents wouldn’t come and he couldn’t stand the thought of staying in that big house, all by himself, tonight. He drove past your street, as well, fighting the urge to go and see you. 

There is only one place he knew he would find peace at. The Hideout. 

Now, he is sitting here, in the corner of the bar, with a drink that he had bought with his fake ID, soon he won’t have to use it anymore. With his head hung low, he lets his mind go to places that he had avoided all day. Dark thoughts that hold nothing but heartbreak and loneliness. He doesn’t feel miserable, just really fucking sad. He has people who care about him, friends who love him, people he now considers family. And yet, he still feels lonelier than ever. 

He looks around the bar, it’s not very crowded, it never is. Maybe on weekends, but never during the week. Rock music plays in the back, he hears the chatter of a group of young men by the bar, they’re laughing, throwing back drinks – they are clearly having a great time. For a while, Steve watches them. How they laugh with each other, how they all look so carefree and happy. He doesn’t even know what it feels like to feel that way anymore, to have fun and be happy without ruining everything with his actions in the matter of just a few minutes. 

He sighs, leaning back in the chair, he looks down at his drink, that lately he started to find more and more comfort in. 

The door opens but he doesn’t bother to look up, not caring about whoever it is that walked through the door. He is so focused on the miserable feeling inside his chest, the tearing, the longing, the yearning, the hurt. 

Before his mind can react, his heart is already fluttering when he hears your voice. He raises his head, eyes finding you immediately. You’re here. You’re here with Eddie. And you look more beautiful than ever. You’re wearing a black dress and the dark denim jacket that he was cursing at, last year when he had yet to find out who it belonged to. Your hair is falling softly in waves, your lips are glowing a soft pink beneath the dim light, you’re giggling, slapping Eddie’s arm playfully when he whispers something in your ear.

His eyes soften, despite you being here with him, giggling at him, he can’t help but smile when he finally sees you again. It’s only been a few weeks since he had properly seen you, yet, it seems like forever.

When your eyes find him and your giggles die down, your smile falls and your eyes widen. He freezes. Not knowing how to react or what to do. Not only have you caught him staring, you have also caught him lying. Again. You were the first person he lied to about his birthday plans. He looks away with a blush on his cheeks, his hand grip the glass tighter, he inwardly curses himself out for coming here, tonight. 

“It’s his birthday, right?” Eddie mumbles behind you. 

“Yeah,” you whisper in confusion. “He told me that he would spend his birthday with his parents..” 

Eddie looks away from you and back at Steve. He sits there, looking crestfallen. His shoulders are slumped, his face etched with sadness, he can see it, even from a distance. The sight of him sitting there so lonely and sad is pitiful. Eddie knows what he feels like, at this moment. His dad never cared about him, not even on his birthdays, he never even bothered to give him a call from wherever he was currently living or staying at. 

But, Eddie has Wayne, he always had Wayne. Steve doesn’t. He doesn’t have anyone who looks after him. He is all by himself. 

“I guess they didn’t come,” you mumble with sadness and a hint of disappointment in your voice. “They never do.”

“Robin told me that he was acting weird when he dropped her off earlier.” 

Despite his dislike for him, he can’t help but feel bad for Steve. The people he wants the most, aren’t in his life. 

His parents are gone. 

You are gone. 

Steve had changed. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, Eddie can see that he has changed for the better. That he isn’t the guy who hurt you, who left you standing on your birthday, who broke your heart and left you for someone else. He isn’t that guy anymore. Had he still been that guy, Eddie wouldn’t even bother to look at him twice and feel any ounce of pity for him but now, things are different. He is different. In a way, it scares Eddie, because he knows that he now has a chance for a second try, with you. 

“Do you think he’s here by himself?”

You shrug, looking away from Steve, you turn towards Eddie, “yeah.” 

You feel the little item in your pocket, the one that suddenly feels too heavy, the one you itch to reach for and give it to the one you got it for.

Eddie looks down at you, at the sadness in your eyes. For once, it doesn’t make him feel frustrated or annoyed to see you be so sad for someone who hurt you. 

“No one should be alone on their birthday,” Eddie mumbles.  

“Yeah,” you sigh, looking down at your hands. “But, I-I guess it’s what he wanted, he could’ve spent time with Robin.”

“He was with her before, wasn’t he?” 

“Yeah.”

Eddie sighs. There is hesitation in your voice and in your eyes.

“Do you want to spend time with him?” He asks, already feeling the dread tugging in his chest, knowing that the night won’t go the way he wanted it to.

For a moment, you stare into Eddie’s brown eyes, there’s a kindness in them, kindness for him. That is something so rare. 

“Uh, I’m sure he wants to be alone.”

Eddie knows you. Eddie knows what you want, right now. But, you are hesitating out of fear of upsetting him. 

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, placing his finger under your chin, tilting your head up. “I won’t get angry. If you want to spend time with him tonight, we can cancel our plans and you can go be with him.” He nudges his chin into Steve’s directions. “I don’t like him but, shit, even I can’t stand the fucking kicked puppy look that he’s sporting, right now.” 

You eye his face. Even through the sadness for Steve, the smile for you, you can see the slight fear in his eyes. The fear that any moment with you, will be his last one before you find your way back to Steve, before you say goodbye to a friendship that might’ve saved your life. But even through the fear, he still wants the best for you, he still wants what you want. 

“I think he wants to be alone,” you repeat.

Eddie looks over your shoulder to see him staring at you. 

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

You sigh, shaking your head. 

“What if we all hang out together?” 

“Sweetheart, I don’t think that Steve would be happy to spend time with me–”

“Please, Eddie,” you whisper, mustering up the best puppy eyes and a pout that he can never say no to. “We can just have fun together, you’ve never met drunk Steve before, he can be funny – unless he decides to break your heart but, that won’t happen to you, don’t worry,” you giggle. 

He raises his brows at you, surprised that you are making a joke about that. 

“You go buy us drinks and I’ll go convince him to spend time with us. We can just all get drunk together, maybe you’ll finally get along,” you shrug, giving him a sheepish smile, you place your hands on his chest, pushing him towards the bar, not taking no for an answer. 

“I don’t think it’ll take much convincing,” he snorts. As though you would ever have to convince Steve to spend time with you. Eddie is certain that all it takes is a glance from you and that man is already by your side, you got Steve wrapped around your finger, just like him, and you don’t even know it. 

You turn on your heel, not waiting for a response from Eddie. You make your way over to Steve, whose head is still hung low. Your heart thumps a little faster in your chest when you inch closer and closer to him. You push your hand into your pocket, reaching for the tiny bag that you had taken with you earlier when you considered dropping by his house. 

You stop in front of him, taking a shaky breath as you place the small bag on the table, sliding it towards him. 

“Happy birthday, Steve,” you whisper.

His wide eyes stare at the bag, the tiny jewelry pouch that clearly holds a present inside for him. His eyes soften, staring at your ringed fingers that linger next to his hand for a moment. 

He looks up, slowly. Hazel eyes flashing with softness when they meet yours. You stare at him with a shy smile, sadness lingering in your pretty eyes. His heart flutters so strongly, he longs to touch you. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, giving you a smile. “W-What’s that?” He asks, pointing to his present without tearing his eyes from you. 

“I got you a little present. I-It’s nothing special just, I just wanted to get you something. You don’t have to open it now, just uh–”

“Y/n,” he smiles, interrupting your rambling, “you didn’t even have to get me anything but I appreciate it, I will love it.” 

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“Yeah but it’s from you, so, I will love it, dolly.” 

A smile appears on your face, you nod slowly, whispering a small ‘okay’. You know that Steve always loved to keep certain presents for last, so you’re not surprised to see him tucking it into the pocket of his jeans. 

“Your parents didn’t come?” 

He looks down, holding the glass tighter, he shakes his head, unable to bear the pitiful look on your face. 

“Oh.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers before you can say ‘I'm sorry, steve.’ He doesn’t want you to pity him. 

“No, it’s not. You shouldn’t be alone.” 

“I-I wasn’t alone, I was with Robin all day and the kids–”

“But, now you are.”

He raises his head to look at you. And, before he can even say anything, his words get caught in his throat when he looks at you. Your eyes are glistening, not with tears and sadness, but with something else, something he cannot read. You look at him differently than you did weeks ago, not in a way that scares him or breaks him but, in a way, that only leaves him with one too many questions. He struggles to read you, to understand you. It’s like he can no longer see through you the way he could before. Nonetheless, he feels so calm and safe in your presence and he wants this moment to last forever. 

“Right now, I’m not, though. You’re here.”

You smile at his words. 

“Yeah, I’m here.” 

When Eddie appears by your side, Steve tries not to let his smile fall. 

Right. He is here too. 

“Happy Birthday, man.”

To Steve’s surprise, he sees Eddie not with two but three shots in his hands, he places them all on the table. Grinning at him in a way he can’t tell whether it’s a kind one or a sarcastic one. 

“Thanks,” Steve nods at him. 

Eddie pulls the chair back for you, you smile at him, taking the seat across from Steve. Eddie sits down beside you, leaving Steve with a questioning look on his face as he looks between the two of you. 

“W-What?”

“You think we’re gonna let you spend the night alone, Harrington?” 

Steve looks at Eddie in confusion, hearing these words not from yours but from his mouth leaves him more puzzled than ever. Eddie spending time with him willingly? He purses his lips, squinting his eyes as he turns to look at you. You smile at him, shrugging. You slide one of the shots towards him. 

“I mean, I thought that we could spend this night together,” you say, smiling with hope in your eyes. “Or we can leave if that’s what you–”

“No, I-I want to.”

He looks between you two, giving Eddie an awkward smile. 

“Cool! Let’s drink, then.” 

“Yeah, let’s drink,” he chuckles as he ditches his glass of whiskey for the shot of whatever Eddie had ordered. 

“When’s the last time you got drunk?” You ask them both. 

“Oh man,” Eddie mumbles, leaning back in his seat, he puts his arm on the back of your chair. “I don’t even remember, it’s been a while. What about you, sweetheart?” 

“Uh, well, I had a cocktail night with the girls, a few weeks ago,” you say, giggling. “Oh, also at a party.”

You and Eddie look at each other, he instantly knows what party you are talking about when he sees the amused look on your face. He chuckles, though he instantly gets taken back that night. When you showed up with that stolen bat plushie, when you told him how much you missed him, when you told him that you wished you met him first. 

Steve looks between you two, a sinking feeling in his stomach takes place. There are things you share with Eddie, things that he will never know about because he isn’t in his place anymore. 

“I knew it! I knew you were lying to me, Dingus!” 

Startled by the voice, all three of you snap your heads towards the angry girl walking towards the three of you with a frown on her face, pointing her finger at Steve. 

Steve’s eyes widen, “I can explain.” 

Something about the anger on Robin’s face and the panic in Steve’s features makes you giggle.

Robin slaps the back of his head, lightly. 

“Ouch! Robin!”

“You are such a–”

“Dingus, yeah yeah, I know.” 

Eddie laughs at that, smirking at Steve who throws him a glare.

“You think that’s funny, Munson?” 

Eddie leans back with a satisfied grin, “actually yeah.”

Robin plops down in the seat next to Steve, still staring at him with a frown on her face. 

“Why did you lie to me? Why are you here?” 

Steve sighs, scratching the back of his neck as he gives her a sheepish smile. 

“And what are you two doing here?” She asks, turning to look at you and Eddie. 

“Came here for a couple of drinks and then we found this sad puppy,” Eddie mumbles, pointing at Steve. 

Steve rolls his eyes, mumbling a few incoherent words under his breath. 

“We just asked him to spend the night with us.” 

Robin gives you a surprised look before her eyes move back to Eddie, who, doesn’t look as enthusiastic about this whole thing as you do. 

“How did you even know I was here?” 

Robin leans her elbow on the table, tilting her head at Steve, “well, I was craving some burgers and my favorite driver was apparently at a birthday dinner so I couldn’t ask him to drive me, so I walked, imagine my surprise when I saw a certain BMW standing in front of The Hideout.”

“Robin–”

“No! Don’t Robin me! Why’d you lie?” 

Steve didn’t want her to feel like it’something she had to do, hang out with him, spend his birthday with him because there’s no one else for him other than her. He doesn’t want her to do anything out of pity for him. 

He doesn’t feel comfortable to talk about it in front of Eddie or even you, knowing that you pity him the most. You always did and he hated it. A part of him always thought that that’s why you were with him, because you pitied him, the sad boy who was always abandoned by his own parents, because you knew he had no one else that cared about him, that loved him. So you stayed, you stayed even when you shouldn’t have.

Even now, you look at him with those big sad eyes with that look of pity in them. 

“Robin,” you warn when you notice how uncomfortable he looks, how he clenches his jaw and bites his lip.

Eddie senses the tension, the looks you are giving Robin, the way she is ignoring you because she desperately wants an explanation from Steve. 

“Lay off, Robin. Maybe he just wanted to get a few drinks and not deal with your annoying ass,” he says to her with a grin. 

She flips him off, rolling her eyes at him. 

“Just relax, here, take my shot and drink it, you need it, Robin,” you say, sliding the shot glass towards her. 

She turns towards the two of you, shaking her head with squinted eyes, “you’re both pretty rude.” 

“So are you, Robby.”

“Ew,” she scrunches her face up at Eddie, “don’t fucking call me Robby.”

“I’m gonna keep calling you that, if you don’t stop being so rude to sad birthday boy over there.” 

Steve sighs, running his hand down his face. 

“Can you just call me Steve, dude?” 

You giggle at the annoyed look on his face. 

Eddie grins, “okay, Steve.” 

“Not like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like you’re mocking me!” Steve exclaims. 

“How am I mocking you, Steve?” 

Steve scoffs, shaking his head, “see, you’re doing it again!”

“Oh my god, shut the hell up!” Robin slams her hands against the table, truly, shutting them both up. “Eddie, get me a drink.” 

Both Steve and Eddie look at her as though she had grown two heads, while you giggle at her little outburst. 

“That was an order.” 

“Damn girl,” Eddie whistles, getting up from his chair, “you need more than one drink,” he mumbles as he walks off. 

“You are both two immature idiots,” she groans, burying her hands in her hair. 

“You are so mean to me,” Steve mumbles, looking at her in disbelief, “and that on my birthday!” 

A smile tugs at your lips, you look between them, chuckling at the way she rolls her eyes at him. 

“You know what, I really need a few drinks.” 

“Wait, are we actually doing this?” Steve asks, gesturing to the shots on the table. 

“What, getting drunk?” 

He nods at you. 

“Yeah. Just like old times, right?” You smile at him in a way you always used to. 

“Just like old times.” 

His eyes suddenly flash with amusement, he snorts, “do you remember my fifteenth birthday?” 

Your eyes widen as a giggle falls from your lips. 

“Of course I remember!”

Robin’s eyes flash with curiosity. There’s things she doesn’t know about yours and his friendship, things neither you or Steve had talked about yet. 

“Wait, what happened on your fifteenth birthday?” 

Your eyes light up with excitement, you lean closer to the table, looking at Steve, waiting for him to tell the story. 

He chuckles at the look on your face before he turns his body towards Robin. 

“We stole my dad’s super expensive wine, he was supposed to take it to some event – I got in so much trouble for that, by the way,” he says to you. 

“I know, I know. Keep going, Steve.”

“Alright, so, we stole that wine bottle. We played a drinking game, kept passing that bottle back and forth until we were fucking hammered,” he says, chuckling as he thinks back to that day in his backyard. The way you giggled at anything he said, the way you danced and ran around barefoot on the grass, the way you jumped in his pool, fully clothed, the way he hugged you when you were both in the water.

“This crazy girl over there started to cannon ball into my pool–” 

You giggle at the memory. 

“She did it over and over again and it looked so fun so I joined her. Honestly, it was pretty fun but I had half a bottle of wine and ate a whole pizza before that.” 

“Oh,” Robin scrunches her face up, already seeing where this is going. 

Steve can’t even fight the smile off his lips, his eyes crinkle, his cheeks flush and he giggles, “we’re in the pool, having the best time of our lives, right? And, fifteen year old me apparently thought that it was a good idea to kiss my best friend, but I totally missed her lips and kissed her nose and she fucking laughed at me, but I wanted to try again. I lean in when I suddenly feel the urge to throw up.” 

“Oh, ew! Stop!” 

“He threw up in the pool, Robin!”

“That’s so disgusting!” She whines, trying to get the image of Steve puking into the pool out of her head, “you don’t have any better stories to tell?” 

You and Steve can’t help but laugh harder at her reaction. 

“I mean the kiss on the nose is fucking embarrassing, Steve. But throwing up in front of her afterwards?” 

“I thought it was funny,” you giggle. 

“What is funny?” Eddie asks when he comes back with two drinks for Robin, placing them on the table and sliding them towards her before he sits down beside you again. 

“Trust me, you don’t wanna know,” Robin says with a look of disgust on her face. 

“I don’t?” He asks, glancing at you and how amused you look. 

“No, you really don’t.”

“Okay,” he snorts. 

He glances at Steve, grinning at him, “hey dude, I got a birthday present for you.” 

All three of you turn to look at Eddie in surprise, watching him in curiosity when he raises his hand, reaching for something in the pocket of his dark flannel. He picks out a joint, tossing it at Steve who catches it with one hand. 

He laughs at that, raising one brow, giving Eddie a smile, “I do appreciate this, it’s kind of expensive nowadays.” 

“Is it expensive?” You ask, turning to Eddie, “you always give me some for free.” 

Eddie’s lips curl into a smile, he lifts his hand towards your face, tapping your nose with his finger, “well, you’re my best friend.” 

Steve keeps his eyes down, not wanting to look between you and Eddie. 

You smile at the way Eddie looks at you, the way his eyes glisten, the way his cheeks are always a little red, the way–

“Do you guys wanna smoke this?” Steve asks, cutting the voice in your head. 

“Here?” 

He chuckles at Robin, “of course not. We could go back to my place, my parents aren’t home, anyways.”

To Eddie’s surprise, he not only directs these words at you and Robin, he also directs them at him. 

“Uh, I’d love to!” Robin grins. 

Steve gives you a hopeful smile, one that makes it impossible to say no to him. 

“Me too.” 

At that, his eyes light up and his smile grows bigger. 

“Sure, let’s do it.”

“We’ll have to walk though,” Robin gestures to the drink Steve already had, “cause you can’t drive and I don’t have a license.”

He shrugs, “we can take Eddie’s van and I’ll get my car tomorrow morning.” 

“Uh, no,” Eddie mumbles, scratching the back of his neck, “my uncle took my van cause his car is at the shop, we walked here.” 

Steve sighs, “shit.” 

“But you could let me drive, I didn’t have anything yet,” Eddie smirks, pointing to the untouched shots. 

Steve snorts at him with a deep glare, “uh, yeah, keep dreaming, Munson,” he mumbles as he leans back, reaching for the keys in his pockets, you all watch him curiously. “The only one who’s allowed to drive my car is dolly.” 

Robin raises her brows in surprise when Steve chucks his keys at you that you quickly catch, looking down at them with a dumbfounded expression before your eyes light up and you look up, beaming at Steve. 

“Okay, let’s go,” you smile, excitedly as you play with the car keys. You scoot back, getting up from the chair. Robin knocks back one shot before she gets up as well. Steve and Eddie glance at the four untouched shots on the table and then, their eyes meet, they both shrug at each other and reach for two shots, each. 

Robin pats Steve’s shoulder, chuckling when he knocks one back and then the other, grimacing at the strong taste. 

You giggle at Eddie, who looks unfazed by the bitter taste. 

“Let’s go, ladies and.. Steve,” he grins. 

“Dude.”

“Don’t start this again,” Robin warns, pointing at them both before she rushes over to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, she grins, “us ladies, ride in the front, and you two can cuddle in the back,” she winks at them, pulling you away with a giggle. 

-

After an eventful ride to Steve’s house and a few shots of tequila, you all settled in his backyard, each of you occupying one of the many loungers around the pool. Passing around the joint that Eddie had given Steve as a ‘birthday gift’. You are sipping on a drink that Steve has made for you, coke mixed with his dad’s expensive whiskey. You are pretty sure that you will regret the amount of alcohol and weed you are having tonight, when you wake up tomorrow morning. But the floaty and giddy feeling you are experiencing right now, will have to make up for it. 

Steve is sitting on the lounger beside you, a can of beer in his hand, his lips wrapped around the joint that is already stained with your lipstick. A spitcurl is hanging in front of his eyes, he doesn’t bother to push it away. He shakes his head at something Robin had said to him, something you didn’t even hear because you were too busy letting your eyes skip back and forth between him and the curly haired metalhead who now left his lounger to be closer to you. 

Eddie wraps his hands around your calves, stroking your skin softly with his ringed fingers as he places your feet on his lap. He does it all without breaking his conversation with Robin. Though he feels the goosebumps on your skin, he hears the breath that hitched in your throat when he touched you. He hides his smirk behind his drink as he takes a sip of the cold beer.

Steve clenches his jaw as he looks between you and Eddie. The way he continues to stroke your calf, the way he smirks at your reaction, the way you are blushing, biting your lip as you look down at the hand touching your skin. 

He forces himself to look away, turning back to Robin, he offers her the joint. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles, giggling when she almost doubles over as she reaches for the joint. 

“Already hammered and we haven’t even played a drinking game yet, tsk,” Eddie shakes his head, giving her a playful grin. 

With an eye roll, she gets up, placing the joint between her lips as she sits down next to Steve. 

“A drinking game, huh? What kind? ‘Never have I ever’? Okay,” She grins at him without giving him a chance to reply. “Never have I ever had a girlfriend,” she smirks, teasing him. 

Steve licks his lips, chuckling at Eddie, who nods at her with an annoyed look on his face. 

You raise your eyebrows, “why are you teasing him, I never had a girlfriend, either,” you shrug. 

“Yeah but you had a boyfriend,” she mumbles, nudging Steve’s shoulder. 

Eddie tilts his head at you, looking you up and down with a smirk, “do you want one?” 

“A girlfriend?” You ask as you raise the glass to your lips, shrugging, “I don’t know, I never thought about it but kissing girls is fun, so.. I suppose doing anything else with a girl is fun too.” 

Eddie’s lips part, his brown eyes widen, darkening as they do so. He swallows as he continues to stare at you. Millions of questions run through his mind. There are things he doesn’t know about you, yet? 

Robin and Steve look at you in surprise. 

“Wait, w-what?” He mumbles, laughing nervously. 

Robin’s lips curl into a smirk, “you kissed a girl before? Who?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart, do tell us your dirty little secrets.” 

“Hmm, no,” you smirk, batting your eyelashes at him. 

“Was that before or after me?” Steve asks, cheeks flushed red as he tries to fight the images out of his mind. 

“Before you,” you giggle. 

“Shit, I wanna know who it was.”

“Me too, Eddie,” Robin says. “I know that it wasn’t Chrissy, she’d tell me.” 

“Huh, was it another girl from the cheer squad?” 

You shake your head at Eddie, biting your lip to keep yourself from laughing. 

“Were you close?” 

You shrug, nodding your head.

Steve squints his eyes, tilting his head at you. 

Robin’s jaw drops a little when she figures it out. There is only one girl that you’re close with that wasn’t in the cheer squad – well, besides her. 

“Holy shit,” she mouths at you, grinning.

Steve and Eddie glance at each other in confusion. 

It’s amusing how obvious the answer is, yet, neither of them are close to figuring it out. 

“If you think kissing a girl is fun, you should try eating one out,” Robin mumbles before she takes a drag from the joint, “it’s the best thing ever.” She blows out the smoke, not noticing the confused frown on your face. 

“For once, I have to agree with you, Robin,” Eddie chuckles. 

Steve freezes, closing his eyes as he looks down. 

“Huh?” 

Noticing the look on your face, Robin suddenly regrets opening her mouth about that. Your lips are parted, your eyes filled with confusion and curiosity, your brows are pinched together as you stare at her with a questioning look on your face. She straightens her back, muttering a quiet ‘fuck’ under her breath when she looks at Steve’s embarrassed face. 

“What’s that?” 

Eddie freezes. The smirk falls from his face, he glances at you, at the clueless, lost look on your face. Oh. Steve had never – fuck. How? If you were his, he’d spend day and night on his knees, worshiping you. 

“Huh?” This time, it’s him, whose confused. 

You look at him with big and curious eyes. 

“What is that, I don’t watch porn.” 

“Damn, I guess it’s time to,” Robin mutters through gritted teeth. 

“Licking someone’s pussy, sweetheart. And well, fucking one with your tongue.” 

Your jaw drops, your cheeks heat up and you stare at him in shock. You look cute like this and he could stare at you forever but, in his state of shock, he slowly turns his head towards Steve, eyes filled with concern, confusion and disbelief, “dude, what is wrong with you?” 

Steve, whose face is beet red, glares at him. 

“I’m very self conscious of not doing a good job, so–”

“You learn!” Eddie throws his hands up. 

“What, Munson, are you the pussy expert or something?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes at him. 

You look back and forth between them. Taking in the sight of Eddie’s slightly angered face and Steve’s embarrassed one. 

“I have eaten my share of pussy, thank you very much.”

The scoff falls from your lips before you can even stop it. Neither of them acknowledge you though, until you open your mouth. “What, like three?” You scoff, again. “You only fucked three girls, that’s what you told me, unless you lied about that.” 

Eddie swallows, glancing at you, he fails to notice just how intense the look in your eyes is. 

“There’s a difference between sex and foreplay, sweetheart.” 

You bite the insides of your cheeks, swallowing the bitterness on your tongue as you look into his eyes. Not once, had you spent a single second wondering if Eddie was seeing someone, if he was fooling around with girls when he wasn’t with you. But now that you think about it, now that you imagine him with other girls, you suddenly feel the bile rising in your throat. The sickening feeling makes you want to drop to your knees and puke out the waffles you had eaten this morning.

“So, when was the last time you did that then, Eddie?” Robin asks, both curious to know and to see your reaction. 

He shrugs, “I don’t know, Buckley. I don’t keep count of how many days–”

“Yes, you do! Men always do!” 

He doesn’t feel comfortable sharing that in front of you, but he knows that Robin won’t drop it until she gets an answer she’s satisfied with. Besides, you probably won’t even care. Despite Dmitri’s encouraging words, he still refuses to believe that there are any feelings other than the platonic ones that you feel for him. This won’t hurt you, right? 

“Fine! Two or three months ago, happy? Now, Harrington, I think I should teach you some basics.” 

You feel as though a cold bucket of water has been dropped on you. Your heart leaps to your throat as your stomach drops. Another wave of sickness floods through you. You stare at him, not noticing Steve’s or Robin’s eyes on you. 

When was that? Was it the weekend you couldn’t spend time with him? The night you couldn’t come to his gig? Was it before or after he had gotten angry at you for kissing Steve? 

It shouldn’t affect you as much as it does, it shouldn’t make you feel this sick, this jealous. You barely figured out your feelings for him. But the longer you stare at him, listen to his words, you can’t help but feel anger rather than jealousy. 

You didn’t have feelings for him back then, or at least, you weren’t aware of them. He’s single and free to do whatever he wants but so are you – so were you when you kissed Steve and yet, he was so angry at you when he found out about it. He treated you so coldly, all because he hated the thought of you kissing Steve. Yet, he was out there fooling around with other girls.

“You have never actually eaten pussy before, dude?” Robin mumbles.

Steve rubs the back of his neck, nervously, “I mean, yeah. Just not–” he pauses with a look of shame in his eyes as he briefly glances at you. 

You roll your eyes. 

You’re not surprised to hear that, you’re not even hurt. After everything that happened between you and him, his sex life with Nancy is the last thing you had ever worried about. You always knew that he treated her better than he ever treated you. 

And, that he tried new things with her isn’t anything shocking to you, anyways. 

You open your mouth but before you can say something that might ruin the night, you press your lips together again. Sighing, you look down at your drink. You take a deep breath before you raise the glass to your lips, gulping down the rest of it.

You plaster a smile on your face. Ignoring the concerned looks that Robin is giving you. She thankfully changes the topic. Eddie and Steve, surprisingly fall into yet another conversation. 

Their distraction allows you to slip away for a moment, you pass by Robin without meeting her eyes and make a quick escape to the bathroom. Locking yourself into the small room for a moment to collect yourself. 

Despite the anger you are feeling, you don’t want to ruin the night for Steve. 

You splash some cold water and run your fingers through your hair. 

With tears in your eyes, you stare at yourself in the mirror. 

Whether it’s tears of anger or tears of sadness. You are sick of it. You are sick of yourself. You are sick of crying. You are sick of the pining, of the jealousy, of the sadness.

Steve had given Nancy everything. He tried new things with her while you were grieving your relationship, crying yourself to sleep and thinking about him like a goddamn fool while he was having the time of his life with a different girl. 

And Eddie, you try not to think about it, you try not to let the jealousy in. But you can’t push out the anger that you are feeling for him, right now. 

Or the anger that you are feeling for yourself.

How you take everything to heart. How you let everything and everyone hurt you. 

You are done. 

You are so fucking done. 

-

next chapter

-

tagging friends & mutuals

@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @succubusmunson @trashmouth-richie @xxhellfirebunnyxx @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @chrissymjstan @somethingvicked @nemesis729

[yooglefics]

hii! its been a few days since i found u and i love ur writing and stories!! could i request a fic where yoongi and (possibly) female reader have a fight over jealousy (its either her or him or both even idk) and its a little angsty idk but then they make up and its all fluffy 🤓🤓 thank u in advance luv

Hellooo. Thank you so much for your kind words and for requesting this! I really enjoyed writing this pair and some angst, I did a hint of both being jealousy, but is mostly him haha. Sorry it took me a while to finally post it, but I wanted it to be good, and I hope you like it!

Jealous, jealousy

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader  Wordcount: 2,467 words Genre: AU. Established relationship. Angst and comfort / fluff.  Summary: Jealousy has never been a problem in your relationship, not until a comment can't leave Yoongi's mind and interactions at your office’s party just make it worse. Content warnings under read more.

Includes: Jealous Yoongi. People thinking there's something between Jin and Reader… even Yoongi. Miscommunication. They argue. And then they're cute.

It all starts with the perilla leave question between Yoongi's friends one night out and a few rounds of soju in. As a self-identified non-jealous person, his answer was that it didn't mean anything, and even told the story about how it happened a few days ago when your coworker joined you two for lunch.

Jungkook, the non-identified most jealous person of the group, had obviously called him stupid. Questioned him about that guy and told him to be careful. “If I were you, Yoongi, I'd keep my eye on him.”

Little rascal; didn't even bother to use honorifics with him anymore.

But the worst thing is that the idea is now on his head and not even Yoongi knows how bad it is about to get as he steps into your office party a few weeks later. Now having the opportunity to see his girlfriend and her favorite coworker interact more in a familiar environment.

Even the ones who don't know Yoongi a lot, know he can be pretty reserved around new people, that's why you continue to make your polite round of interactions after saying hi and leaving him at a table with a whiskey and snacks. Promising to come back as soon as possible.

He looks at you across the room, all professional and sweet, the queen of small talk and polite smiles, and one forms on his own lips without realizing. Only doing so when it's erased as someone greets him, sitting down beside him and he tries to follow your steps at looking, at least, a bit cordial. 

“I don't think I've seen you before. Are you here with ( y / n ) or Seokjin?”

“Yes, with ( y / n ).”

“Really?” She sounds genuinely surprised, “I didn't know she was inviting someone.” 

“Well, I like supporting her, don't really need the invitation” he chuckles a bit awkwardly, “I'm her boyfriend.”

“Oh, so she is dating someone?” Again, the surprise in her tone makes Yoongi believe is a true emotion, and that confuses him.

“For a few years now, yes.”

“And here I was thinking that those two were going to be the next office romance,” she says sounding disappointed before realizing, “oh my— not that it's bad they don't, just… they are both attractive and you know…”

«Is that supposed to make it better?», he wants to ask, but instead he laughs, trying to dismiss everything as her hand lays on his forearm that is resting on the table, trying to reassure him as she goes on about him being handsome too and whatnot.

He stopped listening now. Because after that interaction, one hour seems long enough when half of that you have spent besides that guy, and Jungkook's words keep growing in his head as if he were watering them with the sweet alcohol. The one he has to switch hands to sip from now, because your coworker keeps the other prisoner of her hand. 

Not even the excuse ( that is actually not really an excuse because he needs it ) to get a refill works and she only stops rambling his ear off when someone arrives at the place and she finally leaves the table to greet them.

“I saw you made a friend,” your sweet smile is almost enough to make him forget his thoughts when he is joined by you at the bar while ordering another whiskey.

“Well, figure I should while you had fun with yours.” he shrugs in an effort to dismiss negative feelings.

“Wait, did you actually make friends with her?” is your turn to sound surprised, corners of your mouth falling a little.

“Is a problem if I did?”

“I… I mean, I was joking but I don't like her very much. You can make friends with other people, though.”

“Ah, thanks for the clear up.” He walks back to the table to sit down, and even he can acknowledge it was a weird response, so, your next question doesn’t shock him.

“Are you okay?”

“What if I made friends with your best friend, what's his name?” he asks instead. Comments from others blurring his psyche, making him act without much thinking.

“Jin?”

“Is that his name? She called him Seokjin”

“Well, Seokjin, Jin for short. What's the big deal?”

“Nothing. Just… that's what she said when she asked who I was here with,” he explains before taking a sip.

“Of course she asked you that,” and eye roll accompanies your words. 

“Yeah, because apparently you didn't say you invited your boyfriend.” but he thinks there is more important matters than you not liking your coworker. “As a matter of fact she didn't know you had a boyfriend.”

“Because is none of her business. She doesn't need to know about my relationship.”

“She does when she is talking about you and Seokjin having a romance.”

“What?!”

“Sorry. You and Jin.”

“Shut up, you know that's not what I meant. Can't believe she said that.” You steal a sip from his whiskey before continuing, “No actually, I can.”

He buffs. “You can?”

“Yeah, I told you, she is… not likable.”

“Just that? Not because it would be believable for you two to be together?” He asks, his annoyance clearer as seconds go by.

“Jin and I? Please, that's ridiculous.”

“Okay.”

“Why? Are you jealous?” You inquire, playfully. As if it would be impossible to be true.

“Yes.”

“Wait. Really?! But you have never been jealous.”

“Maybe I am now.” 

“Because of Jin?” you’re confused at how serious he is being, but before you can question more about it, you’re interrupted by said guy.

“Oh, I was summoned. Hi.” he greets your partner, so casually since he doesn’t realize Yoongi is mad with him too. “Can you come back? I don't want to interact with those people alone.”

You look at your co-worker and friend for a few seconds, and then to your boyfriend, trying to understand what is happening and if he is actually jealous. Him, Min Yoongi, the less jealous person you’ve ever met.

“Go, have fun.” Your boyfriend encourages you, managing a smile that only confuses you more because is clear to you that it’s not genuine.

What the hell is happening?

You’re surrounded with interactions the rest of the night, from your co-workers to their partners, people seem interested in Jin and you, after all, it’s the first big party since the both of you joined the company. Even when you go back to sit with Yoongi people get close to make conversation, one person actually asks about wedding planing and tells you she can get you in contact with someone. You know she means well so, with your best smile, you thank her and change the subject.

You hate those conversations. 

Having spent your childhood between your parents’ fights because «staying together for their kids» was a priority, when in reality it only made it worse for everyone involved, you grew up hating the idea of getting married. You understand it is for love, but you don't need a paper or a big party to announce that you love Yoongi. You don't need a ring on your finger to promise you'll do it forever. You don't need him to propose, let alone ask your parents permission to do so. 

Is your life, your decisions. The only opinion that matters other than yours is Yoongi's and he has always understood, never pressured you. He is the love of your life, after all.

In the car on the way home, the silence is filled with music from the stereo and you try to take Yoongi’s hand on the gear lever as always, but only a couple of seconds pass before he pulls away, both hands on the wheel now. 

Trying to figure out if it was on purpose, you ask, “What are you thinking about?” 

“You spend a lot of time with him,” he says without a beat.

“You told me to go.”

“I mean in general.”

“We work together, can't really do much about that.”

“You weren't working tonight and still it was like you were joined at the hip.” he hasn’t looked at you and you can’t decide if it hurts or bothers you more.

“Again, you told me to go at the end,” you argue. “ If you wanted me to stay with you, you could have said so.”

“Now I have to ask you to spend time with me?”

“Well, I can’t read your mind, honey.” you poke his cheek, softly. An attempt to lighten the mood a little.

“That’s not the point.” His tone is just as serious. And then you know that, whatever this is, it’s deeper than you thought.

“What is it then?” you genuinely ask, annoyance starting to build up inside you, but trying to stay calm. Surely he can tell, you think. “You’re clearly upset, but why?”

“Shouldn't I be? When my girlfriend keeps hanging out with this good-looking dude and everyone thinks they could be a thing?” 

“Really?” How can he even entertain those thoughts? You with another man? Doesn’t he hear how ridiculous it sounds? “Shouldn't I be upset because you let her touch your arm for like five minutes straight?”

“She was trying to console me.”

“Yeah, that actually makes it worse, Yoongi.” 

“Yoongi?” 

“That's your name.” He finally looks your way, but you’re looking at the road ahead of you and he can’t tell it is just in order to calm down.

“Wait. Why are you turning things on me?”

“Because you're being irrational and I'm not having this conversation.”

Once again the music is the only sound filling the air, and you opt for folding your arms in front of your chest to stop you from reaching for his hand again.

Now both of you are mad. Great. 

Arriving home, he still gets out of the car first to open the door for you, and it helps soften the heartache a little. But still, the night repeats in your head, trying to understand what happened. 

Why suddenly spending time with Jin is a problem? Why is Yoongi so jealous about it? And why—

“You let her touch you after she said Jin and I had a thing?” you ask as both of you are finally in the bedroom, getting ready to end the night. 

“Thought we weren't having this conversation.”

“No. This one is different. This one is about you potentially doing things because you were upset with me.”

“That would be stupid.” He stops his movements, shirt unbuttoned just halfway through. “Why would I do that?”

“I don't know, you aren't exactly acting like yourself tonight.”

“Because I'm jealous?”

“Because we are fighting about you being jealous.” And trying to calm down once again, you continue taking your dress off, struggling with the zipper but too proud to ask him for help right now.

“Okay, let's not fight, then.” He sits down on his side of the bed. “Just answer this question: do you like him?” 

“Yoongi—” 

“Just answer. Please.” when you finally turn to him, the look on his face is different from what you expected. He doesn't seem angry, but hurt. Like your answer could break him.

“Of course not. Not like that.” You emphasize. Giving up on your clothes and kneeling in front of him, taking a breath before continuing. “You know we started at the same time and he is always nice and fun, I think he is my only friend at work because everyone else keeps asking me when I'm going to get married and leave. Like your friend.”

“What?”

“The lady you were talking to. Is always asking personal questions and I don't like it. Not because I don't like talking about you, I love you and I talk with Jin about you all the time, but is just…”

“Not her business. And you don't have to explain yourself to others.” he completes. Yoongi is the first to always remind you that after all.

“Exactly.” 

“Sorry.” he is quick to say, feeling like an asshole now, a hand running through his hair, messing it up, “I really don’t know what is up with me tonight, I’m sorry.”

“Were you actually jealous of Jin?” the disbelief in your voice is funny now, and he nods with a chuckle. “That’s surprising coming from you.”

“I know. Is dumb.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” you move closer to him, hands on his shoulders to make him look at you, “your feelings are not dumb, Yoongi.”

“Can you stop calling me by my name tonight?”

“Sorry,” both of you laugh softly, “but I mean it. Even if it’s irrational to be jealous of anyone because I love you so very much and wouldn’t even dream to be with someone else; your feelings are important, honey. Just… you know, we have to work on a better way of expressing them.”

He chuckles again, still feeling bad about it all but appreciating the reassurance. “I will, promise. I just never felt like this before, is… weird.”

Yoongi has always thought jealousy is stupid. He understands feeling insecure and all that, but acting like he did tonight has always been something he didn’t understand. Something he judged. He thought it was about bad communication, distrusting your partner, and things like that. And, if you don’t trust the person you love, does it make sense to be together? But maybe is not as simple as that.

He didn't care if you had your own friends and went out with them, like some of the people he knows do. He has his own opinion on marriage and engagement rings. But maybe he cares in other ways. Maybe he cares about people thinking you're with someone else because that's probably his biggest fear.

“I don’t like jealousy.” he speaks again, bringing his arms around your waist, hugging you close and resting his head against your torso.

“Good, that means you are not toxic.” A pause while your hand combs through his hair, putting black strains back in place, “and now you know how I feel when people hit on you.”

“People don’t do that.” 

“They do,” he looks up at you, but before he can argue anything, you cup his face and bend a little to peck his lips, softly. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone with her and without a warning.”

“I tried to get away but she wouldn't let go of my arm and I didn't want to be rude.” 

His bottom lip sticks out in a small pout and you kiss it away, “Yoonie, sometimes you’re too nice for your own good.”

“Maybe I should be just nice to you.”

“You're too nice for that,” he rolls his eyes, making you laugh even more, “that's why I love you.”

“I love you more, baby.”

Protect them 🥺  Let me know what you think. comment, reblog, send an ask, follow or whatnot. Thank you for reading <3 ♡ Tag list: @n33mesis , @sexytholland , @mggv97 , @wobblewobble822 , @bbou-doir , @m00njinnie , @itsmina29 , @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d , @nariee02 , @ktownshizzle , @kimtaehussy . 

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[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Bang Chan x F!Reader x Lee Minho TW : pregnancy ; cheating ; lots of arguing ; physical fighting ; lots of angst ; mention of blood ; a famous whatsk-poppinhomies cliffhanger ; Word Count : 5.8k Request : Anonny : Y/n is pregnant by one of them but he either cheats or fucks up or they break up before they know she is pregnant. She starts dating the other who is willing to accept the kid as his own but when her ex finds out she is pregnant, there will be drama (your choice which drama. maybe he wants her back, doesnt want the baby, is mad at the other one since they are in the same band etc) AN : This is such a fun request, just the right amount of angst and I can also make it fluffy at times, but mostly angsty. It took me a little bit to figure out who I wanted to be the "good guy" in the fic, but I finally came to the conclusion of who it would be, and I think, I HOPE, you'll enjoy this. Thank you for requesting!!

There were always rumors, scandals, posts all over the internet about how cute Minho and some other female idol would look together. There were pictures posted, even edits made of the two where his eyes would linger on her just a little longer than usual, his lips pulling up at the corners when she’d flip her hair or do something almost sickeningly cute. It was a smile that you thought only you received, but whenever you brought it up he’d get irritated, telling you that you were being ridiculous and reading into things too much. 

He had never given you a reason to not trust him though, so you’d always apologize. His reasoning always seemed so valid too. He was supposed to act that way when he was MCing, it’s not like he could show the world that he was annoyed and not having a good time. You’d always let it slide, hugging him and giving him a kiss as you continued to apologize for over thinking. It would be so much easier if you could just come out about the relationship, but, again, his reasons were solid as to why you shouldn’t. It was dangerous for you, it would only be a hassle, you wouldn’t be able to live normally ever again… And for that suggestion, you apologized once more. 

Trust was important, especially when he was almost always away from home, either on tour or doing promotional meets with fans or mini concerts. It wasn’t hard to trust him either, especially when he had made it seem like he was miserable if he was anywhere but at home with you. That’s why you wanted to surprise him with a little visit while he was doing one of his little promotional tours around the country. The other guys had even helped you set it up, making sure that Minho had not a single clue that you were coming until you showed up. 

“Surpri…se…” The word that had started out as a cheerful announcement slipped into a whisper before you went completely silent. Minho stood in the center of the dressing room, his hands on the hips of the female idol that wasn’t even a threat, at least, that’s what he had told you before. Their lips had been locked, her chest pressed against his, and there was no reason… There was no bullshit excuse that he could come up with that could explain away what you had just seen. 

“Honey… I-” You didn’t give him time to talk, turning away from the room and walking as fast as you could down the hall that would lead you to the exit door. “Y/N, come back!” You heard him call after you, his footsteps getting louder and louder as he got closer until his fingers were wrapped around your wrist, tugging you back towards him and making you stop. “Listen…” He pleaded breathlessly, but you shook your head, your mouth hanging open as you let out a short gasp of disbelief. “I didn’t think you were coming… No one told me…” 

“Oh? You want to blame the guys for me finally catching you? That’s asinine.” You pulled your hand away from him, crossing your arms over your chest just to be sure he wouldn’t try to grab you again. “I’m glad I saw it… At least I won’t be made a fool of anymore. You were really good at hiding it though, I give you that. And you were damn good at pretending that you actually gave a shit about me.” 

“I do give a shit about you, that’s why…” You sighed loudly, running his hands through his hair. “That’s why I hid it from you… I didn’t want to hurt you…” He whispered, taking a step closer, but you kept the distance, backing away from him. “You weren’t supposed to find out… Not like this at least. I was gonna tell you… I’m… I’m not proud of it… I was gonna stop things with her. I love you… I just needed to say goodbye to her. That’s what that was…” 

His arms reached out to you but you swatted them away, unable to hold back the look of disgust that washed over your face. “Don’t even bother. She can have you… I don’t… I can’t even look at you right now. You make me sick.” The words shot through your lips like bullets, and while you felt so strong right now saying them, you knew that once your back was turned to him and you gave yourself the time to actually let it sink in what had happened, you’d be a wreck. 

“Don’t say that… We can talk about this. Honey, come on… Just talk to me… Don’t leave.” Minho pleaded, stepping closer to you once more, and you hated that he had the nerve to get upset, to have the gull to start crying as if you were the one that's hurting him. You scoffed, pushing him away from you and taking two steps back just to make sure the space between the two of you was wide enough that hopefully he’d finally get the hint to stay away. “Honey…” 

“What’s goin’ on out here?” Chan asked as he stepped out of his own dressing room, his eyes that had been bright and sparkling the first two seconds immediately losing their shine when he felt the tension in the hallway. “Seriously… What’s going on?” His voice lost that cheerfulness it had once carried, and now he was more serious, his eyes darting between you and Minho. 

“I don’t know, you tell me, Christopher.” You snapped, and his eyes widened in shock at the tone of your voice. “Or better yet, if you’re truly so fucking clueless, how about you ask Minho… or you could ask the girl he was swapping spit with in his dressing room. I couldn’t care less though, I’m going home.” You turned on your heel, heading to the exit door once more, and you could hear Minhos strained voice calling your name, but you didn’t look back… You didn’t want to take that last look at what you had lost. 

The promotional tour had ended, but throughout it you had received multiple texts from Minho asking to talk or meet up. There were calls from the other guys too, but you were busy, far too busy with packing up all of his things, throwing away every single reminder of the relationship that you had put so much faith into just for it to fall apart in one fell swoop. 

It was crazy how fast you had fallen in love with him, and how long it took for you to lose that feeling. Even though he had hurt you, even though you had literally seen it with your own two eyes, you loved him. You had to constantly remind yourself that if you were foolish enough to go back that you’d just end up hurt again, probably even worse than before. You weren’t a fool, you wouldn’t let him hurt you, and you knew that if he got you back, he’d just think he could do it again, and he would do it again, he’d just be sneakier this time. 

The sound of the lock on your door being undone had you turning your head, and you knew that the only person who had the keys was Minho, and it was a good thing that he had come. His things had been piled up next to the front door for a week now and it was about damn time that he finally came to collect them. 

“He was too nervous to come over…” Chan said as he sheepishly walked through the front door, closing it softly behind him and eyeing the multitude of black trash bags on the floor before looking back at you. “I’m sorry he did that to you. If I had known, I would have told you…” He whispered, and you slowly nodded your head, although you failed to believe that he would actually go against one of the guys just to protect your feelings. “Do you need anything? Have you eaten?” 

“I don’t need you to pretend to care on his behalf. The only thing I need is for his shit to be gone so that I can forget about all of you and you all can forget about me and we can all just move on with our lives and I can pretend I wasn’t the idiot that got played by him.” You sniped, pushing yourself up off the couch and grabbing one of the many bags. “I’ll help you take his stuff to your car if that’ll get rid of you all faster.” 

He blinked a few times before grabbing the bag from your hands and softly placing it down on the floor once again. “I’m not pretending to care. I’ll get his shit out of your house…” His hands ran over his face as he let out a long sigh. “I understand why you’re saying these things, but I don’t think you really believe that we’d just forget about you. We’ve been texting you nonstop… You had to have seen it.” 

“I have seen it, and I’d really like for you all to stop. It was easy for him to forget about me and we were dating… I think it’ll be way easier for you and the rest of the guys.” You retorted, picking up the bag again and pushing it into his arms. “You’re all making it harder for me to just move on, and I need to move on…” You promised yourself that you wouldn’t cry, you didn’t want to cry, he didn’t deserve a single tear to be shed over him, yet here you were, sniffling with tears welling up… You really were a fool. 

“It’s hard to move on because you’re not giving yourself something to take your mind off of him.” Chan murmured, dropping the bag once more, carelessly now though, and moving closer to you. His arms loosely wrapped around you, and as much as you didn’t want to be close to anyone that was close to Minho, the hug was comforting, you hadn’t had anyone there to really comfort you through the entire thing, and it was nice to just be able to cry and let it all out. 

“I don’t know how to stop thinking about him… He’s everywhere…” You mumbled against Chans chest, a blubbering mess now as you gripped onto his shirt that was becoming soaked with the tears that you shed. “I hate him… I hate all of you… You just remind me of him too…” You weakly pushed against his chest, but he held you closer, soothingly brushing his fingers through your hair as he shushed you. 

“It’s gonna be okay… I promise it will.” He cooed, his cheek resting against your forehead. “Whenever you start to think of him, just call me… I’ll talk to you, I’ll get your mind off of him. We can talk for hours if that’s what you need. If you want to go out, I’ll take you out, wherever you want to go. Even if you just need to get out of the house… I’ll take you to the studio, you can sit and watch me work on songs. I just want to help you…” 

“Why are you trying so hard…?” You whimpered, looking up at him with glassy eyes that had his heart slowly breaking, and he wanted nothing more than to wipe your tears for you as he told you the truth, but he knew that you weren’t ready for that, and he wasn’t ready for it either. He needed you to be better first. 

“Because he made the mess and he’s got too much pride to clean it up himself. I care about you though… And I’m gonna make sure you’re okay.” He said softly, hesitantly reaching up to brush the tears from your cheeks. “I’m gonna take his shit to the car, and if you want, I can stay here and we can talk or just… I’m gonna order food for you, whether you want me to stay and eat with you or not… But… I want to make sure you’ve eaten. Okay?”

You nodded weakly, taking a step back as you swallowed thickly before clearing your throat. “You can eat… stay… eat with me…” You stammered, rubbing your hands against your thighs, the embarrassment of what just happened finally setting in. “I’m sorry for that… Don’t… Don’t tell him I cried… Please…” 

Chan chuckled, ruffling your hair before placing his hand on the small of your back, leading you to the couch and waiting for you to sit before dropping down onto the cushions himself. “I’m sure he already knows you’ve cried, but I wouldn’t tell him anyway. I haven’t really talked to him about anything other than work since that happened.” He explained, pulling his phone out to order food. “So what are you feeling? What do you wanna eat?” 

///

Becoming close to Chan wasn’t in your itinerary, it wasn’t planned at all, but you found yourself craving his presence, wanting to hear his voice all the time, comforted by the warmth that emanated off of him when he sat beside you. He had become such an important part of your healing process, that after a couple weeks, it didn’t even feel like you needed to be healed anymore, you just wanted him around. 

Your mind had been so busy for so long, and it was a good thing, you needed to keep your mind off of everything for a bit, but you didn’t realize how busy you had been until you got the notification on your phone from your period tracking app. Make sure to log your periods for better accuracy. You stared at the notification with furrowing eyebrows, your mind becoming a calculator as you tried to remember when the last time was that you had gotten your period. 

How long had it been? You quickly opened the app, going back to the last logged date and then to your calendar to see just how long it had been. 8 weeks… how could you not notice for almost two months that you hadn’t gotten your period at all? You couldn’t have possibly been that frazzled… right? 

“Hey Channie… Can you get something from the store for me when you have the time?” You texted him, not knowing who else to go to, and the last thing you wanted to do was get the tests yourself. You needed to take what little time you had to process what you would do if those tests gave you the most life altering reading. 

“Yeah sure! Is everything okay? You need some girly things, huh? I can get you your favorite snacks too and we can hang out.” He texted back, and you wished, you really wished that girly things were what you needed, and you were nervous to even tell him what you actually needed. What would he do? Would he be upset? Would he be angry? It’s not like you planned for something like this if it were the case… It wasn’t 100% your fault. But you knew 100% who’s it would be. It’s like you couldn’t forget him… you’d never be able to forget him. 

“Uhm… No. Well… I’d really like it if we could still hang out… But I need uhm… pregnancy tests…” You sent the text as fast as you could, waiting long enough for it to say delivered before turning off the screen and throwing your phone to the end of the bed. This was just what your luck would bring you, right? You would never be able to escape Minho, not fully. You would never move on, and the worst part was that you were really starting to feel like you could, like you would… The feelings that were beginning to bloom for Chan… They would never be returned… 

Your phone vibrated next to your feet, and you were scared, so scared of his response, but then it started vibrating more, longer, and you knew it was a phone call. What if he had told Minho? Your hands shook as you grabbed your phone, your eyes closed until the screen was right in front of your face, slowly opening your eyes to see Chans name on your screen. 

Hesitantly you answered, bringing the phone to your ear with a soft sniffle. “Why didn’t you answer? Are you okay?” He asked, worry lacing his voice and you could hear wind whipping around him through the speaker. “You’re crying… Did something happen? Tell me…” He urged, and you could barely get the words out of your mouth to answer him. 

“I thought… That you’d be mad… Or that you’d tell Minho… I don’t want him to come back, I don’t want to give him a reason to come back in my life…” You just barely whispered into the speaker, your knees pulled up against your chest, holding onto them tightly. “I’m so scared, Chris… I don’t want to do this alone, I can’t…” 

“I’ll be over soon… Don’t worry. Even if it’s positive, you won’t have to do it alone. I’m still gonna be here, I’d never leave you… I hope you know that, and remember that. You’re stuck with me.” He chuckled softly, and your laughter that followed was a little too sad, but at least you were laughing, and at least you knew that you had him. 

///

“SKZ Leader Christopher Bang, also known as Bang Chan, seen heading into OBGYN office with mystery pregnant girlfriend.”

The report had caught Minhos eye as soon as he saw it, and for many reasons. Chan had never mentioned having a girlfriend, and he had definitely never mentioned becoming a dad any time soon. Judging by the pictures that had been posted, the supposed girlfriend looked to be pretty far along, at least 6 or 7 months into the pregnancy. Chan would have slipped up by now, and Minho couldn’t think of a reason why he’d want to hide such big news from the guys. He’d talk to him about it, maybe Chan was scared that the guys would be upset… Maybe that was it… Minho would congratulate him first, let him know that he wasn’t mad, he was actually quite proud. He knew that Chan would make a good father, especially considering he was basically a dad to the other 6 guys. 

“Hyung!” Minho called out when Chan came into the practice room, running over to the leader and patting him on the back. “You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend… You’re hiding a lot of things. You’re gonna be a dad too!” Minho expected the initial fear to wear off after a couple seconds, but Chans eyes stayed wide as he stared at Minho a little longer than he liked. “You… Didn’t see the headlines?” Minho asked, and Chan quickly shook his head, pulling out his phone and groaning loudly when he saw that it wasn’t just headline news, it was on the front page of NAVER. 

“Fuck… I gotta call Y/N…” Chan mumbled, and Minho felt like he had been punched hearing your name come out of Chans mouth. It had to be a coincidence, there was no way that Chan could do something like that to him… right? Now he was nosy, listening in on the call that Chan was making, trying to make it seem like he was paying attention to his own phone so he wouldn’t leave the room. “I want you to stay in the house no matter what until I get there, okay? Keep the doors locked just in case they followed us after the appointment, and don’t answer the door for anyone. No… No, I don’t think he knows. He’s the one who saw it… He came to me… No, he doesn’t recognize it’s you. I know… I know, it’s gonna be okay, darling. I love you… I’ll be home soon. Promise… Yes. I love you more… Okay… Just relax, I got you that ice cream you’ve been craving. Mmhm… Yup… Alright, I love you so much. Hugs and kisses… Mwah.” 

Listening to the conversation had Minho looking back at the report, really looking at the pictures now. The nose, the hair, the eyes… It was all you… It was you. The pain that he had felt after the initial gut punch now turned to anger as he pushed himself away from the wall and went straight over the Chan. “Who were you on the phone with? Huh? Tell me right now. Tell the truth!” Minho shouted, already pushing Chan back, shoving him until he was cornered against the mirrored walls that reflected the scene. 

“Stop… It was my girlfriend, you’re being ridiculous.” Chan tried to keep calm, attempting to slide away from Minho, but he was pushed against the mirror once more, the image momentarily warped as the glass vibrated. “Stop it!” Chan said more firmly now, trying to keep Minho back, but his anger was fueling him, driving him to continue pushing against Chan until the mirror started to crack, and even then, he wouldn’t stop. 

“Your girlfriend is my ex! You lousy, no-good, piece of shit!” Minho screamed, catching a glimpse of the crack that was making its way up the mirror, bound to shatter at any moment now. “When did you start dating? You thought you could just move in on my girlfriend because she was upset?! You’re a fucking asshole, you know that!” 

“Well why the hell do you care anyway?!” Chan shouted back, finally getting angry enough to push Minho away from him, but he didn’t want to hurt him, he just wanted him to stop. He needed him to stop. It would be no good if either of them got hurt, and the reports would be no better if it came out that they were fighting like this. “You cheated on her! She’s happy now! It’s not like I started dating her as soon as you broke up anyway… It just happened… I’m taking care of her, you should be happy that someone actually loves her.” 

Minhos fists balled up at his sides, but then the math started adding up in his head, but it didn’t actually add up… You had caught him cheating only 5 months ago, and if his visual assumption of how far along you were was correct, that would mean… “Who’s the father? Is it you? How far along is she?” The questions came out in rapid succession, and Chans eyes fell to the floor, it was answer enough, but he wanted to hear it. “Answer me!” Minho shouted once more, his fists clenched so tight that his knuckles were turning a ghostly shade of white. 

“I’m the father! Whether the DNA says so or not, and that’s what matters!” Chan sniped back, and Minho swore he saw red, his fist flying before he even had the chance to think about what he was doing. His knuckles connected with Chans face full force, causing the leader to stumble back, his bottom lip busted and blood trickling down to his chin. “You can fight me… You can beat the shit out of me… But I’m not leaving her. The kid isn’t yours… She’ll have my last name. She’ll call me dad. She wouldn’t want a cheater as a father anyway.” 

“Fuck you…” Minho muttered before his arm pulled back to punch him once more, but the practice door swung open, and in a second all of the guys were around him, pulling him away from Chan. There was so much going on, but Minhos eyes never left Chan. He wasn’t his leader, he wasn’t his band member… He sure as hell wasn’t his brother… He had stolen his family away. “Must be nice to just have the family already made for you, isn’t it?!” Minho shouted as he was being dragged out of the practice room by Changbin and Jisung as the other guys stayed behind to make sure Chan was okay. 

///

“What do you mean he found out?!” You shrieked from the couch, your heart racing as your eyes darted to the door. Would Minho come to the house? Was he on his way now? “Are you okay? Are you coming home?” You asked, completely on edge, and your nerves being so high was setting off your daughter who refused to sit still now. 

“Just relax, darling. I’m fine, and he’s not going to come over. The guys have him out in the hall right now trying to calm him down, they know what’s going on… They’re not going to let him leave.” Chan tried to reassure you, but it was all for nothing when you heard Changbins voice in the background. “He ran off… I think he’s going over to Y/Ns… You should probably go…” You heard Chan sigh loudly before his voice was heard again. “Keep the door locked… It’s locked right? Don’t answer it, for the love of god, don’t answer. Just stay quiet… I’ll be home as soon as I can, I swear. Stay on the line with me though.” 

“God dammit!” You shouted, carefully pushing yourself up off the couch and heading into the bedroom. “I knew we should have gone to an office out of the city… I told you this would happen.” It’s not that you were trying to argue with Chan, it was the last thing you wanted to do, but you had told him from the get-go that it wasn’t a good idea to go to any of the doctors close to his work. 

“Sue me for wanting you to have the best doctors in Korea.” Chan snapped back, and you heard his car door slam shut and then the rumbling of the engine as he turned the key. “Don’t blame me for this shit. It’s not my fault that you ended up pregnant by him, I didn’t have to do anything for you, but I love you enough to be here and you’re gonna get bitchy with me because he finally found out. It was bound to happen at some point.” 

You scoffed loudly, running a shaky hand through your hair. “It wasn’t just for me, asshole! It was to protect you from your crazy ass fans. But I guess they were bound to find out at some point too?” You retorted, your eyes prickling with tears of anger as you sat on the edge of your bed. “I didn’t ask you to be here, if I remember correctly, I wanted you all out of my fucking life. You insisted on staying! So don’t you dare try to blame me either!” You took a shaky breath, pulling the phone away from your face so he wouldn’t hear you crying. “If that’s the way you feel though… Don’t come home. I’ll just talk things out with Minho, maybe we can work out an agreement for child support or something and you all can be gone like I wanted.” 

“Stop. I never said that, don’t twist my words.” He mumbled, and the engine revved as his car sped up. “I don’t want you talking to Minho at all, I’ll handle him when I get back home. I’m coming home. I’m not… I’m not mad at you… I love you, and I love the baby… I got punched in the fucking face and now I have to worry about Minho weasling back into your life and I’m just stressed… That’s all.” He sighed softly, his fingers drumming lightly against the wheel as his turn signal ticked. “Please don’t cry, darling… Not over my words, I didn’t mean them. I really didn’t…” 

“I’m stressed too…” You whispered back, your head leaning against the headboard as you watched through the little slits in the blinds of your bedroom, waiting to see Chans car pull up. “I just wanted things to be easy… For us to be happy. I guess I’m stupid for wanting that though… Especially knowing that-” There was a loud banging at the front door causing your heart to skip a beat before you jumped up out of the bed and peeked through the blinds. “He’s here… What do I do? Channie, what do I do?” 

“I’m almost home, just stay in the bedroom. He doesn’t have the key, he can’t get in.” Chan rushed the words out, and while they were supposed to calm you, you could hear the panic in his own voice. “Fucking traffic! Come on!” 

“Y/N I know you’re home!” Minhos voice shouted from outside the house as his fists came down against the door once more. “We need to talk! I know she’s mine! Let's just talk about this!” It seemed like the more he spoke, the louder he got, and you were shrinking into the bed deeper and deeper with every single word. He wouldn’t hurt you, you knew that, at least not the way he had hurt Chan, but you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger either. 

“Get away from my house.” You heard Chan both through the phone and outside the window, and you quickly hung up to run to the front door, but your movements became slow once your hand was on the lock. If you unlatched it too quick, Minho would come in, you needed to wait for Chan. “She doesn’t want to talk to you. You don’t need to see her, you don’t need to be here, so just go back to the dorms or go practice.” 

“Easy for you to say. It’s not actually your kid. You get to play the hero for Y/N and my daughter… Must be real fucking nice.” The argument continued outside of the door, and Chans voice was so close, he could come in… But Minhos voice was just as close… You didn’t want to take any chances. “You wouldn’t even know her if it weren’t for me! You were just waiting for your chance to steal her away from me!” 

“What are you talking about?!” Chan screeched, and you felt your heart rate spike, your hand shaking as you started to unlock the door. You didn’t want anything to happen to Chan, he had already been hit once, you didn’t know how far Minho would go. “You cheated on her! She left you! Just go away!” 

You quickly pulled the door open and both their heads whipped in your direction. Chan was the first to come in, pushing past Minho and wrapping his arms around you to pull you away from the door. “You really need to go, Minho…” You whispered shakily, your hands moving to Chans and holding onto them tightly. 

“No. I’m not going anywhere.” Minho said flatly, walking into your house and slamming the door behind him. “You start dating my friend while you’re pregnant with my daughter and you both were going to try to hide it from me!? Now you expect me to just walk away like this isn’t happening?!” His eyes lowered to your stomach, his breath hitching in his throat as he took one small step closer to you. “You don’t think I’ll just walk away from this… do you? I’m not that kind of person.” 

You looked up at Chan who rolled his eyes at Minhos words, and then your head dropped. “I wish you would… I wish you had never found out. It took so long for me to get over you, and things were going just fine.” You mumbled, sniffling softly. “It’s not fair… You cheated on me, and then you want to try to come back… Why? I don’t want to confuse her…” 

“We can get back together.” Minho stated as if it were the obvious choice, his hands reaching out to grab yours, but Chan was adamant on that not happening, his own fingers lacing with yours and moving your hands to your side. “I don’t want her to be confused either, but she deserves to have her real father in her life.” He eyed Chan smugly as he said it, and you felt him tense up behind you, his breaths heavy against your neck. “You know that I love you, more than anything else in the world. We could be a family, the perfect family…” 

“Will you shut up?” Chan said quite sternly, pressing a kiss to your cheek, something that made Minhos hand twitch as it clenched to a fist at his side. “You don’t know how hard it was for her to get over you, and I will not just sit by and let you fuck it all up!” He carefully moved you behind him as he stood face to face with Minho, his chest puffed out, flexing his muscles and chesting Minho back towards the door. “She doesn’t want you, she doesn’t want you back, and she doesn’t want to play family with you!” 

“Oh I’m the one that would be playing family? You’re trying to play father to another man’s kid! You took advantage of my one mistake… Did you tell her though? Did you tell her that after that I’d sit up at night crying because I fucked up so bad? Did you tell her that I haven’t been with anyone else since that day?! Or did you only tell her the shit that benefited you?” Minho sniped back, his own chest puffing out, and truthfully, you were scared for both of them. You didn’t want anyone to get hurt. 

“I told her what would benefit her. I’m sure you wouldn’t understand that though considering you didn’t even think enough about her to not cheat when she was yours. So don’t you dare try to come into our house acting like you give a shit now because you found out she’s pregnant. The kid is sadly only yours biologically, but that doesn’t mean shit where it counts.” Chan retorted, taking a step back, being the bigger person to try to keep a physical fight from happening. “Now if you were smart, you’d leave… I suggest that you be smart and that you get out… now.” 

Minho huffed loudly, his eyes like daggers as he looked between you and Chan, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants as he leaned against the door. “You know I’ll be back… She’s my daughter… And if you won’t let me be a solid part of her life, I’ll just go to court. I’m going to see me kid, whether you want me to or not.” His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth as a coy smile spread across his lips, his eyes solely on you now. “Can’t wait to meet her.” 

[somedayillbepeterpan]

I made a post about a side by side of Pen and Colin's first and last dance (so far) from S1 and S3 and now I'm drowning in the feels of it.

LOOK AT THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THESE TWO LAST SHOTS

S1E1 - Vauxhall ball dance

Them being such babies. Them jumping around, utterly caught by the energy of the dance. This is the first dance that Pen ever has after she's come out in society and I want to say that this is the first time that she's actually seen Colin as a man after he "rescued her". This is when the rose-coloured tinted glasses are shining brightly on her face as she looks at this boy she grew up with dancing with her in public, laughing and holding her in his arms. This is the first time she was held by another man in her life (I don't think her dad was ever affectionate towards her). Her first physical encounter with a man and it's with Colin no less (Colin really is first in everything where Penelope is concerned).

Even though there is a closeness between her and Colin already at this time, there is always Eloise in the middle. We think that Eloise being away in S3 gave them a chance to be alone together but Pen's 1st season out in society actually also gave the first chance of being alone with Colin (and then Marina came and ruined it all).

I also want to note that Pen is utterly cute in this scene. Ladies aren't supposed to wear their hair out the way Pen has it here. This alone should have told us that she is a rebel but also of how invisible she is.

Last thing to note (and this maybe just because of editing or this very beautiful but challenging height difference these two have blocking wise) is that we don't really see their faces clearly (I checked the actual video and it really is shot like that). We're only meant to feel the amusement these two have over this brief dance and I'm sure Pen went home on Cloud 9, thinking about this dance over and over.

It was her first romantic core memory.

Now we go to this scene:

S3E8 - Dankworth - Finch ball dance (Butterfly dance)

I have so many feelings about this dance. Firstly, their hand size difference!

Their smiles! Them overcoming such a huge obstacle! Colin just blasting every other love confession I've seen on this show! Them accepting each other fully, finally seeing each other for who they are. Them now ready to fully embrace their married life. I could go on and on and I will.

Both looking so ridiculously happy in this slow, intimate dance. Both looking so sexy and powerful, showing their acceptance of their maturity. It took them a while and a whole angsty journey but watching them take each step towards each other spoke to my heart and soul deeply. Their smiles in this dance was such a treat after being subjected to heartbreak.

In comparison with the shot in S1E1, we see both from their heads to their body (heart) but behind other dancers. I'm just thinking that this is the director saying this now will be your POV of Pen and Colin-- at the start of living their lives openly.

(I'm feeling sleepy now but I want to finish this)

It is so rewarding to see the journey that Pen and Colin goes through. I've been rewatching all 3 seasons and catching the growth between these two is so fascinating. The parallels, the clues, the subtle performances that Nic and Luke have been presenting on the table since S1. All so overwhelming at times at how privileged I feel to see their story laid out so beautifully.

What a gift Pen and Colin's love story is. I love their love and I'll stay here just for a little bit.

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Could umm… you happen to do another if creator had a child and its wanderer. The only odd/strange thing about the baby is that they have ball joints like a puppet?just wondering

The creator had a 

Doll like child

Wc: ~700

“Wanderer?” You ask without fully expecting an answer, whenever you spend the night stargazing both of you get lost in your thoughts.

“What?” 

“What we did a few weeks ago was to spite Raiden?” your eyes look at him,m while he still lays down, the dark fibers of his hair brushing against the milky white of his skin “Hey, answer”

“You are incredible, you know” his brow furrows and softly sighs “asking such dumb questions”

“Just answer it”

“Do you truly need me to say it to your face?” he looks tired, as if the question seemed so unbelievably obvious to him. When your eyes meet he sighs again like an angsty teen “no, I didn't start intimacy with you just to bother the hag. I would never fall that low”

A soft hum leaves your lips, nodding to the comforting words you had to wrangle out of him.

“Why even the question? That was like four months ago” 

“I think I might be pregnant” his surprised jolt almost made him slide off the roof.

“How is that possible even?” He presses his elbow, feeling the ball and socket joint underneath the false skin. Two pieces of wood rotating around a small sphere rather than your own arm, where the bones were secured by ligaments and muscles had to contract for every movement.

“Honestly, I wonder the same”

“Aren't you supposed to know everything?”

“Last time I checked dolls weren't able to reproduce”

“Do you think it will be human or more like… me?” the last part of his question sounded almost heartbroken. Softly you grasp his fingers in your hand, encouraging him.

“I will love them regardless”

“How weird, at birth Ara seemed pretty hypotonic, but now she seems alright” one of the bimarstan nurses checks the baby, pulling her off the ground from her arms and laying her flat on her palm. But she felt like a ragdoll if it wasn't by her breathing and her annoyed expression by the handling

“At least there doesn't seem to be anything else”

“let's just keep an eye on it” she promptly returns her to you.

‘could that be because of wanderer? He said that part of what kept him together was elemental energy, it could be that as she grows she absorbs it’ 

“Ara, what are you doing?” You ask playfully to the toddler who sneaked in the kitchen and made a mess with the pots and lids.

“I see someone is quite active this morning, huh?” The father of said child pops from behind you, passes by your side and plops the year old on his hip. Her gummy smile is an adorable sight, her chubby hand pointing to his hat and the other grabbing the lid she put on her head.

“Are you trying to imitate someone?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He looks at his child and back at you “we aren't even that similar” he says while holding his mini clone. At the same time they both lean their head sideways, the hats leaning towards that side.

“Isn't she so cute?” Nahida looks at your toddler daughter brushing her doll's hair, her dark hair framing her face and her big blue eyes reflecting the sunlight off them.

“She does remind me of a Hina doll” Raiden approaches a hand to pat her head but Ara slaps it away before poking out her tongue and rushes outside “did she just…”

Your hand cups your cheek, curious at what happened to your usual quiet baby “That is quite unexpected, she does tend to enjoy getting her hair played with” could hatred be inherited by genes? That was the only reason you could think of for a 3 year old to hate Raiden on sight.

“And if you see a woman wearing a kimono and a braid she is a witch that came to curse you, so make sure to kick her in the shin, understood?”

“Kitty!” the girl yells as she opens her presents

“Yes, that is a cat, Bu’er brought it to you for you birthday” as you look deeper into the black cat you can't help but feel its dark fur and purple eyes remind you of someone. Even more so when a small black kitten and a coloured cat are also in the box.

[samandcolbyownme]

Okay babe, I need a good old fashioned childhood friends to lovers with Sam. Moms are besties or they grew up next door to each other. Maybe reader is a part of their social media team and lives in LA with them? Could comfort Sam after a breakup or reader has a severe panic/anxiety attack and only Sam can get her to calm down? Can turn into smut can just be super soft fluff, I’m open to whatever, I just need some snuggly cuddly Sam.

Warnings: swearing, slow burn-ish, childhood friends to lovers, flirting, mentions of a break up, kissing, angsty fluff

Word Count: 3.2k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

C h i l d h o o d

You giggled as Sam messed around with the keys of the piano, “I don’t think you’re supposed to play it like that, Sam.”

He laughs, pointing to the key, “You try.”

You tilt your head, poking at the keys with one finger. Sam giggles, reaching over to drag his hand over the keys from one side to the other.

“Sam.” His mom peaks his head into the room, “Gentle, please.”

“Sorry, mom.” Sam looks back at her and you look back, seeing your mom looking in, too. You wave and turn back around, laughing with Sam, “You got in trouble.”

“Did not.” Sam argues and you give him a dramatic sigh, “Did so.”

“Did not.”

“Did so!”

Sam laughs, gently tapping the keys of the piano, “Do you think we’ll be friends forever?” You look over at him, “Do you want to be friends forever?”

He nods, “Yep.”

M i d d l e • S c h o o l

“Is your teacher a jerk?” You looked up at Sam, “Mine yells over everything.”

Sam can’t help but laugh, “Mine spits when he talks.”

“Oh, that’s so gross.” You laugh as you pick at your lunch, “Do you want my fruit cup? I don’t think I’m going to eat it today.”

He nods, “I’ll trade you my brownie for it.” Your eyes go wide, “You love those brownies. Are you sure?”

He nods, sliding it across the lunch table, “Yeah.”

Everybody thought you were a couple. Whenever you weren’t in class, you were side by side, laughing at stupid jokes or making fun of how a teacher said a word - middle schooler stuff.

As middle school went on, you were each discovering yourselves. Both changing everyday in certain ways, but the only thing that stayed the same was your friendship.

H i g h • S c h o o l

High school rolled around and the two of you became three. Colby was added and you all clicked so well. The same speculation of you being with Sam, snowballed into you being with Colby, then you with both of them.

You know, the high school rumors.

No one ever let that get to them. Colby shut those rumors down when he got a girlfriend, and you and Sam just continued doing what you’ve always done.

“They’re cute together.” You nod towards Colby and his girlfriend, “Don’t you think?”

Colby’s girlfriend smiled, she didn’t mind having you around, “I think they’re making fun of us.” Colby scoffs, looking back at Sam, “Can you not.”

Sam laughs, “Sorry, you’re just an easy target. Are you going to that optional band rehearsal?” Colby nods and you chime in, “Going to try and not trip like last time.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “Can we let that go.”

You scrunch up your nose, shaking your head, “No, not for a while.” Sam sighs, “Fine, but only because it’s you.”

You couldn’t lie, there have been feelings for Sam, even way before you understood what they were. You liked being around him, talking to him, FaceTiming him at random times.

You developed a more serious kind of love for Sam, and you were scared of many different things going wrong, or even not going at all.

After graduation, you and Sam remained close, along with Colby. They started up a ghost hunting YouTube channel, and to say it took off, is an understatement.

They were flourishing, quickly at that.

They’ve gotten deals, interviews, requests from people to come investigate their properties, and of course you were there every step of the way.

T o d a y

“Guess who I just got off the phone with.” You say as you walk into the living room, glancing at Sam as you sit down.

He sets his phone in his lap and looks over at you, “Mm, I don’t know.” He smiles, “Tell me.”

You raise your brow, “What’s up?” He shakes his head, “Nothing, nothing. Who did you get off the phone with?”

You turn towards him, “I just got you and Colby and interview on The Evening Show.”

Sam jumps up off the couch, “What!?”

You laugh, nodding, “You heard me. I got you an interview.”

“With Charles Callahan?” He asks, his eyes wide with excitement, “Are you actually fucking serious?”

“Yes, Sam!” You stand up, scrolling on your phone to show him the details, “It’s all right here.” He lays his hands on top of his head, “Y/n, that’s like, a massively famous talk show.”

You nod, “I know.”

“With Charles Callahan.”

You nod again, laughing, “I know that, too.”

“Oh my god.” He wraps his arms around you, squeezing tight, “I don’t know how you managed, but I love you.”

You freeze. It’s normal for you to say it to them, especially Sam, because you’ve known him longer, but everything felt much different for you.

“Seriously.” Sam leans back, his hands on your shoulders, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for us.”

You smile, “I get paid for helping you succeed.” You tease, clearing your throat, “You go next week.”

“We.” He corrects you, “We go next week.” He shakes his head, “Does Colby know?”

You shake your head, “I tried calling him, I don’t know what he’s doing.” Sam nods, sitting back down, “I’ll text him, tell him to come home as soon as possible.”

You nod, sitting back down, “Okay.” You prop your arm on the back of the couch, “So.”

He glances up at you, “So.. what?”

“You gonna tell me why you seem off?”

He shrugs, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s something.” You raise your brows, “What’s up?”

He sighs, “I didn’t feel.. okay.” He takes a deep breath, “I broke up with Leah, and..” he laughs slightly, “I don’t think she’s taking it well.”

“What do you mean?” You tilt your head and he shakes his, “She, posted a picture of us afterwards, you know once people started speculating that we did, and she’s just adding fuel to the fire and I’m just..”

“Trying to move past it?” You ask and he nods, “Exactly.”

“Why’d you, um, if you don’t mind me asking, why did you break up?”

A smile plays on Sam’s lips slightly, “She had an issue with you.”

“With me?” You scoff, “Sounds like she has bigger issues to worry about than me.”

He nods, “She said she didn’t like the fact that you lived with me, I told her that we’re not like that, we just- “ he stops talking, looking down at his lap, “If anyone has a problem with you, they now have a problem with me, you know?”

You nod, “Yeah, yeah. I feel like that’s the same for me. I guess a lot of people don’t know how to trust.” You shrug, “I’m sorry that you broke up with her.”

He shakes his head, “She wasn’t helping me in any way.” He looks up, “Not like you do.”

You go to ask, but the front door open, and Colby calls our, “Guys? What’s going on?”

Sam springs up, “Colby?!”

“What happened? Is everything good?” He looks at you and Sam and you nod, “Go ahead, Sam.” Sam looks from you to Colby, “Don’t sit down because you’ll just spring right back up when I tell you this.”

“Tell me what?” Colby asks confused, glancing from you to Sam, “What’s happening?”

“Y/n got is on with Charles Callahan.”

Colby’s goes go wide and he looks at you, “What?! No fuckin’ way, dude.” You nod, “Yes fuckin’ way, dude. You go on next week.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Colby walks over, giving you a hug, “Oh my god.”

“She’s the best, right?” Sam smiles and Colby nods, “The absolute best, holy fuck.”

You laugh, “It’s just an interview. Relax.”

Colby rolls his eyes, “Just an interview..” he mocks you, “Y/n. This is a once in a life time experience. I don’t know how you did it, but Jesus fuck. Good job.”

You smile, “You’re welcome. You’re welcome.”

“Come on, Sam. We have to come up with an announcement post.” Colby walks towards the steps and Sam stays there for a moment, staring at you.

“Go.” You wave him on, “If I get anymore details, you’ll be the first to know.”

He shakes his head, “That’s not-“ he sighs, walking over to press a kiss onto your forehead, “Thank you.”

You so badly want to pull him back in as he is walking away, tell him he missed and kiss his lips, but you don’t. You watch as he makes his way up the steps and sit down.

You start coming up with ideas because you know they’ll be coming to you for an announcement post.

Over the next few days, things seem to be more, interesting, between you and Sam.

He’s been everywhere you are, and you’re everywhere he is. You both use the, there’s a lot of work to do, excuse, but neither one of you will admit that you just want the other as company, mainly because you both just already knew it.

“So I was thinking.” You turn your laptop towards him, “This hotel is the closest to the studio, if you’re okay with that I can book three rooms? Each one has two beds and the one has a nice pull out couch, I think.”

“Why three?” He asks and you shrug, “You and Colby get a room, Mitch and Logan can get one and then I can finally get some peace and quiet.” You smirk at him and he laughs, “Oh I see how it is.”

“Do you want that room? I’m sure Colby won’t mind me-“

“No, no.” He cuts you off, “You’re fine, I was just.. messin’ around, you know.”

You nod, “Yeah, yeah. I got it.” You laugh, “Figured we could get there the night before and that way you and Colby have the day to kind of rehearse your answers.”

He nods, “Sounds good to me.”

You nod, going back to your computer before you sigh, “Can I-“ you look over at him and he’s already looking, “When you said that she didn’t help you like I did..”

You laugh slightly, “What did you mean?”

He shrugs, “Just that.. no one really knows me like you do.”

You nod, “Right, right.” You go back to looking at your laptop and Sam ask, his voice kind of quieter, “What did you think I meant?”

You shrug, looking at him, “Exactly what you said.” You give him a small smile and he nods, “Right.” He clears his throat, “Yeah, I mean. We’ve known each other since we were what, five?”

You laugh, “Yeah, yeah.” You tilt your head, “You still got in trouble for playing the piano the way you did.”

“I did not. My mom just told me to be gentle with the keys, but you remember that?” Sam laughs and you nod, “Yeah, I also remember you-“

“Y/n, I swear to god, If you say-“

“Tripped when you were doing your routine for the band.”

He groans, “That’s it.” He stands up, “This conversation is done. I have to go pack.”

“You have a few days yet, Sam.” You yell and he shakes his head, “Sorry, can’t hear you.” He laughs as he looks back at you, “Come on, help me pick out some good outfits.”

“I’ll be up, let me book these room quick.”

——

“Seems like you’re doing a good job on your own.” You smirk as you lean against his door frame, “Oh, gosh. Wait. I take that back.”

You walk over to his suitcase and pull out a pair of pants, switch these out with that black pair. That’ll go better with this stripped shirt.”

He nods, tossing you the pants, “Yeah, I do didn’t do that on purpose.” He chuckles and you roll your eyes, “I’m sure.”

You laugh, “a white tank will finish this look, is this what you’re wearing for the actual interview?”

He nods, “If you think it’s best.”

You nod, “Oh yeah, I like this a lot. Make sure, well, I don’t have to tell you guys, but just a reminder, as your one manager, take pictures for the gram.”

“It’s so weird.” He laughs and you tilt your head, sitting down on his bed, “What is?”

“You’re my boss.” He shakes his head, “I just, I don’t know. When you asked if we’d be friends forever, I didn’t expect this.”

“Me working for you? Sam, you’re my boss.” You laugh, “But yeah, I get what you mean. Never did I picture us living in LA, I never seen myself getting out of that place.”

“I was taking you with one way or another.” Sam sits down next to you, “You deserved more than what that place gave you.”

You nod, “So did you. And looks like we got it.”

He nods, “We got it.”

“Guys!” Colby yells from down stairs, “Where are you?!”

“That man has impeccable timing.” Sam rolls his eyes and stands up, “Yo, Colby. Up here, man.”

“Oh good, okay.” He walks in, “When do you plan on leaving? Like what day?”

“I booked the hotel rooms a day in advance, so we’ll get there on Wednesday and then your show is Thursday and then Friday we can either come back or so whatever.” You look up at him, “Why?”

“Because I was doing research and they have this bar that just overall looks like a sick experience.” Colby shows you and Sam his phone, “I figured we could do that Friday night?”

“I’ve heard about this place. We definitely have to go.” Sam nods, “Are you up for it?”

You nod, “Yeah. I’m down for it.”

——

The days leading up to leaving were busy. Everyone was around everyone. You had a celebration dinner, people were coming over, to talk about the upcoming show.

People were even talking about how great of a person you were for Sam and Colby.

It was, overwhelming at times, but fully worth it.

“You still scared of flying?” Sam teases as he nudges your arm. You scoff, “Please, with the amount of planes I’ve been on with you guys, that fear is well over conquered.”

“We do fly a lot.” Sam chuckles and you look out the plane window, “At least it’s a short flight.”

He nods, “kinda wish it was longer.” He shrugs, “I don’t know. I like flying.”

You smile slightly and lean back. The rest of the flight was Sam picking on Colby, who is sat in front of you, and small talk.

Mainly about the show coming up. Sam’s nerves, your nerves. Everything but what you wanted to talk about most.

Once you’ve landed and get to the hotel, you make your way up to the rooms, two in one, Sam and Colby in the other, and then you in your room.

You sit down, letting out a sigh as you lay back.

Your mind swirls around the thought of Sam, mainly wondering if you should just push the idea of anything happening between the two of you away or if you should jump on it.

You sit up, making up your mind right then and there.

You walk over to your door, pulling it open and you stop.

“Hey I was just-“

Sam cuts you off, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” You move out of the way and he walks in, “I haven’t..” he turns around as you close the door, “.. been fully honest with you.”

You look down, “I know the feelings.”

Sam walks over, cupping your cheeks. He looks into your eyes and takes a deep breath, “You are the person who has been keeping me going. You, y/n..” he smiles, “You feel more like home than everywhere I have been and I just..”

“I have loved you since we were children, even before I knew what love was, Sam.”

“I can’t do anything with thinking about you, fuck. I think I love you a little bit more each day.” His eyes move between your lips and your eyes, “to spend life with you..” he chuckles, his thumb rubbing over your cheek, “..that’s my childhood dream and the more time I spend with you, the deeper I fall.”

Your hands slide up to his face as you nod, “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Your lips meet and he pulls you closer, “I couldn’t be with someone else, knowing you were right here.” He leans back, “I just must have been stuck on thinking it wouldn’t have worked out.”

“You said it first, I know you better than anyone and same goes for you.” You run your hand through his hair and he smirks, “Yeah, we just have that special connection don’t we.”

“We have somethin’ special.” You smile, leaning in to peck his lips again, “So I take it.. Colby is getting his own room?”

“Yeah, that’s what I came to talk to you about.” Sam laughs, “Colby said that if I didn’t tell you he was going to, and I think it would have been better if I just had the guys to do it myself.”

“It was.” You smile, “Definitely was.” You wrap your arms around him and he holds you tight, “I promise, I’m never letting go.”

“You haven’t let go, all these years and I’m still here.” You smile against his chest, “I really don’t want my life to be any different.”

“Really? You wouldn’t change anything?” Sam glances down at you and you look up at him, “I mean..” you laugh slightly, “How about you ask me that, after a nap?”

He nods, “you read my mind.” He smiles and pulls you with him to the bed. You lay down with him and take a deep breath, “Sorry I haven’t said anything either.”

He shakes his head, “Don’t do that, baby.” He kisses your head, “we’re here now.”

You smile at the name, “Yeah baby.” You look up at him, “We’re here now.”

He pulls you in closer, his legs hooking over yours to hold you closer, “I’ve stayed awake at night fighting the urge to just come and cuddle you.”

“You should have just given in.” You smirk and he starts babbling, “I didn’t.. I wasn’t sure if you-“

“Sam.” You lift your head, “I know, I know.”

He laughs and dips his head down to kiss you, “I regret the time I lost, not being able to hold you like this.” You nuzzle your face into his neck, just breathing him in, “It’s fine, Sam. We have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”

He kisses your head, “get some sleep. Colby’s got a list of plans for us for these next few days.”

You laugh, “Of course he does.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Thank you so much for reading! I love you all so much! See you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[slut4thebroken]

“Childhood Enemies Turned Lovers?” - part 2

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Robert Fischer × reader

Summary | Robert punishes you for almost messing up the next date.

Warnings | Smut, semi public sex, degradation, humiliation, praise, dry humping, orgasm delay/denial, vaginal fingering, sir + daddy kink lol, more slut shaming but in a hot way.

Words | 3k

Notes | Enjoy some smut before things get super angsty :)

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 1

There was some speculation that this was all so sudden and obviously fake, so they waited two weeks before staging another date. 

This time, you went out during the evening. The PR team thought it might be a good idea to kill two birds with one stone and stage a fake date, as well as start to fix your reputation. Your father was reluctant to agree, but— obviously— trusted Robert more than you to keep you in check. Which is how you found yourself at a nightclub. His attire was slightly more relaxed than normal; he left the tie and suit jacket at home, and opted for a darker colored suit, leaving the top button undone. You were practically fucking salivating just looking at him. Especially when he complained about how hot it was and started rolling his sleeves up. 

You on the other hand we’re told to dress for the occasion, but more modest than what you’d normally wear. They even had you send a picture of you in the dress to confirm, which you thought was a little overkill. What sluttiness you lacked in the dress though, you made up for with the heels. They were tall and strappy and Robert told you he’s not helping you if your feet start to hurt, which you thought was cute. You’ve been wearing heels like this for years now and even if your feet do start to hurt, you’ll just take them off. 

You both ordered drinks and after a while you suggested he dance with you, but he refused. So you went alone. As you were dancing among the other flushed, barely covered bodies, you realized that this is probably the first time you’ve gone to a club and not been able to go home with someone. Not that it wasn’t frowned upon before, but now it’s strictly off limits. 

When the first pair of hands grabbed your hips, you reluctantly batted them away and were severely disappointed to find out how hot he was when you turned around. After two song changes, you were approached again. 

“Can I dance with you?” A woman asked— it was so refreshing being treated like a person sometimes— and you bit your lip, thinking. You looked over at Robert who was looking at his phone. Technically you’re supposed to be photographed leaving the club, so no one should find out. And if they do… people are homophobic enough to believe that this was platonic. 

You nodded and she smiled. She grabbed your hips and pulled you closer and you were suddenly engulfed in her intoxicating scent— something vanilla-y. You gasped when she suddenly turned you around and pressed her front flush with your back. Even with your heels she was still taller than you. You danced lazily for a while, letting your head fall back on her shoulder as you closed your eyes, choosing to get lost in the moment. But of course it was interrupted. 

Robert called you name loudly from in front of you, trying to get you to hear it over the music, and you lifted your head to look at him. 

“What?” His expression was pretty neutral and you tried to hear him, but you could only make out a few words. “What?” You yelled, trying to convey that you couldn’t understand. He just rolled his eyes and grabbed your wrist, pulling you from the dance floor. He stopped in the hallway, but the volume level was the same because of how small the club was, so he pushed open the bathroom door and practically dragged you inside, then locked it. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” You spat, wrenching your arm free from his grasp. 

“You know you shouldn’t be doing that. Anyone could see.” You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. 

“What are you, my daddy? You don’t tell me what to do.” You sneered. 

“I do when it concerns people other than yourself. This isn’t about you, so grow up.” You scoffed and looked away from him. “I think you’re forgetting that we’re in the same boat. But I’m not risking fucking everything up because I’m horny.” 

“Screw. You.” You spat, pushing at his chest. 

“Oh so that is it, then? You don’t get fucked for a few weeks and you just turn into an insatiable little whore? No matter the consequences?” You wanted to deny it, but the arousal building in your stomach from his words and tone was unmistakable. You clenched your jaw and looked away, prompting him to grab your cheeks in one hand and turn you back to him. Despite the ferocity of his gaze, he kept his grip light. 

“If you need to be fucked so bad, buy a dildo. Or if the issue is you’re too much of a pillow princess to do it yourself, buy a machine— god knows you can afford it.” Your cheeks heated up under his hand and you did your best to steady your breathing. “See how many options you have that don’t end with you screwing everything up?” He cooed mockingly and you closed your eyes, swallowing down a whimper. 

“What, now you finally shut up?” He scoffed and you couldn’t hold the sound in any longer. 

“Robert…” You whined, pressing your thighs together. He let out a dark chuckle and you shivered in response. 

“So fucking pathetic.” The sweet tone almost fooled you. “You’re really desperate enough that you’ll take it from me?” He scoffed a laugh, making your blush burn darker. His hand suddenly fisted your hair, then yanked your head back, forcing a startled moan out of you. “Answer me.” He growled. 

“Fuck— Robert, please.” You whimpered, squeezing your thighs together even harder. The second he noticed, he was forcing a leg between your own, pressing this thigh against your heat, making you mewl and grab at his shirt. 

“Show me how desperate you are. Show me how much this little pussy needs to be filled.” He said quietly. You nodded with a whimper and started rocking your hips, pushing your clit against his thigh, as you started panting. “That’s it, good girl.” He cooed and you let out a choked moan in response. He looked down to watch you grind on him, but suddenly pulled away when he saw the dark patch on his pants. 

“Fuck— These cost more than your fucking phone.” He huffed and you would’ve made fun of him if you weren’t so damn needy. “Get on the floor.” You looked around the bathroom and whined, not wanting to kneel on the floor of a public bathroom. “Kneel or we’ll go back out there and finish our drinks.” He warned, so you tentatively dropped to the floor. 

“There you go.” He cooed, petting your hair. “Grind on my shoe.” 

“What?” You choked out, now infinitely more embarrassed than a few seconds ago. 

“Unless you’d rather leave?” 

“No! No—” You clutched onto his pant leg, not letting him make good on his threat. 

“Then stop wasting my time.” With a whine, you looked down at his shoe, tentatively shuffling forward. You looked up at him one last time before lowering yourself onto the smooth leather. The friction was less than his pants, but the stimulation still had you panting and whining regardless. 

“You look good on your knees.” He said with a smirk, making you blush. “Can’t believe I have to let you hump my shoe like a bitch in heat just to keep you from fucking all of this up.” He muttered and you let out a low, embarrassed whine. 

“Robert,” You whimpered, needing more. You wrapped your arms around his leg and leaned your chin on his thigh as you looked up at him. He cursed under this breath and bit his lip. “Please.” 

“This not enough for you, princess? Need more?” You nodded with a pout, wanting his fingers, his mouth, his cock— anything. “That really is too bad, isn’t it?” He cooed empathetically, making you have to repeat his words in your head before you realized that what he said was actually a bad thing. “I can’t believe I have to marry a pathetic little slut. Are you going to be like this until the divorce? Humping any part of me, every chance you get?” 

“Robert…” You whined, eyes watering with tears of desperation and humiliation. “Fuck— please.” You both froze when his phone started ringing. 

“Take off your underwear.” He said quickly, then, when you didn’t move fast enough, “Now.” You scrambled to remove them and place them in his hand, then he was shoving them in your mouth before you even registered what was happening. “Continue. You don’t want me to tell you again.” He warned before answering the call. 

You tentatively wrapped your arms around his leg again and picked up where you left off, but with a little less enthusiasm this time, not wanting to be too loud. Based on his tone and how much he was talking, it seemed like an important call. Which confused you even more on why he’d want you to keep going. 

His free hand suddenly gripped your hair, then wrenched your head back, and you couldn’t stifle the startled moan in time. You looked up at him with wide, fearful eyes, worried you had upset him because of that. 

“Do better.” He whispered, barely audible. You nodded and he released you, letting you bring your head back down to a more comfortable position. You started moving faster, grinding down harder. Too embarrassed to keep looking at him, you turned your head and rested your cheek on his thigh, but your breath caught in your throat when you finally noticed the bulge in his pants. You tentatively brought one hand up, but before you could touch him, he roughly grabbed your wrist to stop you. So you wrapped your arm back around his leg and kept going, staring at his crotch almost longingly. 

“You saw that, did you?” He cringed and the sudden change of tone caught your attention. “Yeah I know our history has been… rocky at best.” He paused as the person on the phone presumably cut him off. 

“Has she fucked me yet?” He chuckled, making you whine and bury your face into his thigh more. “No, not yet… I know— I was just as surprised.” You whined and pulled back to stare up at him, silently pleading with him to end this humiliation and just give you what you need. His eyes bored into yours as he pet your head, making you mewl and grind down harder. 

“Yeah… She’s actually.. less of a bitch than I thought— I know. Don’t get me wrong, she has her moments,” He cut off again and waited a few seconds, then chuckled under his breath. 

“Get up.” He mouthed to you and you stood on shaky legs, holding onto him for balance. He guided you over to the counter and bent you over it, making you gasp at the feeling of the cold marble pressed to your flushed skin. When he pushed your dress up enough to expose your ass, you whined and buried your head in your arms, making him grab your hair to lift you back up. “Eyes on me.” He whispered. You nodded tentatively, then he went back to the task at hand. 

“Oh yeah. Spoiled too— and she acts like it.” He placed a hand on your ass and pulled it to the side for a better view of your drooling hole. “I know, I know. But you’ve seen some of those photos that circled around a few years back,” He suddenly pushed two fingers inside you and you jolted forward with a strangled moan. 

“Yeah I’m actually out with her now, she’s in the bathroom. You should see the fucking dress she’s wearing.” He curled his fingers against your walls slowly, making you whine and push your hips back. When he chuckled quietly, you stared at him through the mirror with furrowed brows and he hummed in agreement to whatever the person on the phone just said. “Exactly as you’re picturing it— her tits are practically out.” You glanced down at your chest through the mirror, finding his statement correct— your breasts were spilling out of your dress in this position. 

“And alcohol makes her so fucking needy apparently. She’s been all over me since we got here.” His fingers suddenly hit a spot inside of you that had your knees buckling as you whimpered, holding onto the counter. “Hang on, she’s coming. I’ll call you tomorrow?” His choice of words was not lost on you and he wasn’t even wrong— your orgasm was rapidly approaching. “No, I’m not going to send you pictures.” He scoffed a laugh and you whined quietly, your whole face heating up at the thought. 

“You did a.. surprisingly good job staying quiet.” He commented, putting his phone back in his pocket. “You ready to come now?” He cooed and you nodded desperately. “Yeah? Did listening to me talk about you like that make you even needier?” You whined and averted your gaze, but made sure to keep your head up. 

“Of course it fucking did.” He scoffed, quickly removing his fingers, making you whimper. He turned you around fast enough to make your head spin, then lifted you onto the counter and roughly shoved his fingers back in, working much more enthusiastically than before. You placed one hand on the counter behind you and the other to his shoulder to ground yourself. When he removed your panties from your mouth and placed a hand on your neck, you let out a loud moan, making him tighten his grip to cut off the sound. The action was sending you barreling toward your orgasm now and since you were able to beg again, you did exactly that. 

“Fuck— please... Sir, please let me come.” You gasped out, getting closer and closer. 

“Sir?” He smirked, making you blush. 

“Please make me come, I need it.” You whined loudly and his grip on your neck tightened even more as he forced a third finger inside you. 

“Fuck you’re wet.” He spat, almost disgusted. “Can you hear that, princess? You hear how messy your pathetic little cunt is?” He cooed and you sobbed out a moan. 

“Please! Please make me come,” 

“Yeah? You’re ready?” He asked as he tilted his head, and you nodded eagerly, panting and closing your eyes to focus on the feeling. When he suddenly pulled his fingers out, your body flinched forward and you cried out, making him push you back by your neck, pressing on your windpipe a little to silence you. 

“Please! I was so close!” You sobbed, clinging to his shoulder as your eyes filled with tears. 

“Whenever you think about misbehaving, I want you to remember this. If you start acting like a good little girl, then maybe next time I’ll make you come.” You let out another choked sob, on the verge of crying from desperation now. 

“No— Sir, please…” You cried. He shushed you softly and you whimpered in response, letting your eyes flutter shut. 

“I know. You’ll be okay.” He cooed, but you were pretty sure he was mocking you. When a tear finally escaped your waterline and slid down your cheek, he cursed under his breath and moved his hand from your neck to gently wipe it away. You had one last thing that you thought could work. 

“Please-” You whimpered pathetically, looking up at him with wide, glossy eyes, “please, daddy.” You were so grateful when another tear fell just as you finished talking. 

“I thought you said I’m not your daddy.” He smirked, making you whine and give him your best puppy dog eyes. “You’re going to be severely disappointed if you think calling me daddy and giving me those ‘fuck me’ eyes will do anything.” He said teasingly. You frowned in response and he gave you a sympathetic smile. “I know, princess. I’m sure you’re not used to being denied, but if you behave and listen to me, I can give it to you.” He brushed your hair behind your ear, then cupped your cheek. “Can you do that for me?” He whispered and you nodded hesitantly. 

“Good girl.” He chuckled when you let out another whimper. “Listen to me very carefully, okay? When you get home tonight, you’re not going to get yourself off. You’re going to be a good girl and get ready for bed, then go to sleep. Trust that I’ll know if you disobey me and that the consequences will be much worse than just this. Do you understand?” You pouted and looked away from him, trying to stop crying. When you let out a quiet, “yes” he gave you a proud smile. 

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? Just need to be put in your place.” His gaze dragged over your face with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher. He gave you a small smile, then stepped back, pocketing your underwear. 

“Fix your makeup and hair before you leave. I’ll be waiting by the front door, okay?” You nodded dumbly, barely registering his words. He unlocked the door and walked out, leaving you there to catch your breath and get rid of the floaty feeling in your head. You hopped down from the counter on shaky legs and adjusted your dress before smoothing out your hair and wiping away the smudged mascara from under your eyes. Once you looked… slightly more presentable, you walked out and found him standing by the entrance to the club, waiting. 

“You still look like you just got fucked.” He chuckled, making you blush. 

“There’s not much else I can do about that.” You huffed, still feeling bratty from being denied. 

“Okay, just—” He brushed your hair back and wiped under your eyes some more, then sighed. “Try to keep your head down I guess.” He opened the door for you and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his body. 

You kept your head slightly angled toward the floor and did your best not to trip in your heels but the alcohol and horniness were making it pretty hard. The paparazzi were right outside unfortunately, but there were only two of them, so it wasn’t that bad. His car was already waiting— he must’ve texted while you were still in the bathroom— and he opened the door for you, letting go of your waist to let you slide inside. 

Part 3

(ik It’s cut kinda awkwardly lol but this is technically just a really long one shot. Also very much sad in the next part so get ready for that lmaoo)

Taglist (join here)

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @cillianscrybaby @ceruleanrainblues @brooklynscherry-z @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @halleysc6met @babaohhhriley (y’all were tagged in part one which I posted before updating my taglist system. Lmk if you want to be removed otherwise I’m going to add you to the google doc for this fic)

[monzabee]

you'll change your name or change your mind - cl16

masterlist

Summary: The one where you find your way back home, even if the journey takes longer than you think. 

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!bianchi!reader 

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: mentions of jules and his accident, ANGST, talks about college acceptances in the US but it’s not accurate because i’ve never applied for US schools, mentions of alcohol and underage drinking/clubbing (only in the US though), mentions of a fake id, mentions of cheating, fighting, charles being stupid and not realising it, talks about processing grief, GRIEF, survivor’s guilt, talks of therapy, friends to lovers y’all. 

Request: “The Charles fanfic was so good!! Can you write more angsty but happy needing Charles? I think it’s be cute for a man who loves Monaco so much to got to wherever his girlfriend lives Ike London or nyc often and deal with that. Maybe she hates monaco lol” + “if your requests are still open, max or charles + “you have to promise you won’t fall in love with me.” thanks!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i decided to give into the whole angst thing and i can honestly say that i’m having a great time. i wanted to include Jules somehow in this one because i’ve been seeing some edits on tiktok and let me tell you proofreading was a bitch because i kept crying. also, my spotify kept bringing up lorde and hannah montana songs, so there you go. this was definitely a hard one to write and i know it’s messy, but all feedback is appreciated. thank you, anon, for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Monaco is full of memories. It’s filled with memories of your childhood, your parents picking up you and your siblings from school in Nice, and getting the train to Monaco for your brother to compete in karting races. It’s filled with laughter, and ice cream, and friends. It’s also filled with fears, loss and uncertainty, and you suppose that’s why you didn’t ever want to go back. But you find your back there every time, even if it is only for a couple of days at a time. Although it reminds you of the bad times, it’s hard to erase the good ones completely. 

Charles is just one of the people Jules brought into your life. He was right there since your birth – apparently, the Leclercs were visiting your family in Nice when your mother suddenly went into labour. You will always be thankful to Pascale and Hervé for stopping Jules from choosing your middle name to be Michael Schumacher. Neither Charles, nor you will forget the type of shenanigans you got up to as little kids, there is only a year difference between the two of you after all. There’s that one time you stole Charles’ kart and tried to go down the road, in which he caught you but instead of ratting you out to Lorenzo and Jules, who were supposed to be looking after you by the way, he helped you get it down the stairs and passed you his helmet as he explained how to go about it. Neither of your brothers were impressed by your ability to go fast or Charles’ sudden interest in maybe becoming a race engineer if the whole driver thing doesn’t work out. There was also the time when the two of you, along with Arthur, snuck out from a family friend’s wedding to only get lost in a city in the South of France; Charles got so stressed that he forgot how to speak French and proceeded to ask how to get back to the venue in Italian for the rest of the night. Needless to say, the two of you are there for each other no matter what; you stayed together through heartbreaks, wins, losses, losing Jules and Hervé, funerals, weddings and much more. The majority of your time together is spent in your family’s house in Nice. Charles doesn’t mind the half-hour journey, an hour if he decides to go back but he hardly ever does. Sometimes, he manages to convince you come to Monte Carlo for the day by bribing you with promises of sunsets and ice cream, but he will always drive you back if you insist you want to go home without any complain. 

The first time you bring up the topic of moving, you’re in your last year of high school; by that time, Charles is already racing in Formula One, so your time together is limited to breaks between the races. However he tries his hardest to be there for you, from talking you through breakdowns that occur after long study sessions, to looking up pre-med programmes for you to apply all over the world. You never wanted to live your entire life between Nice and Monte Carlo in the first place, so is he is more than happy to help you explore your options. Your application results arrive when he’s on break between the races, so the two of you sit on the small table in his Monaco apartment’s kitchen, the light from your laptop lighting up both of your faces as you open up the emails one by one. You’re most anxious about your application to Columbia, which is 3.462 miles away from Nice, and 3.993 from Monte Carlo. By the time you finish opening up all the emails, both of you are sitting there with a silence between you. The acceptance letter still open on your laptop is congratulating you for your offer to join Columbia’s pre-med program the following September. 

“Yes,” He looks at you expectantly, “Accept it, Y/N, you shouldn’t be even thinking about it!”

“Yes?” You let out a nervous laugh. “It’s not that simple, Charles–” 

“But it is!” He argues, a big smile on his face. You can tell he is proud of you by the look in his eyes and the way his emotions carry through his voice. “It’s your top choice of school!”

“It’s also in New York, it means that there will be an entire ocean between us!” 

He shrugs. “So?” 

“So?” Your eyes widen in surprise, you start staking your head a little without being aware that you are doing it. “Doesn’t that scare you?” 

“Chérie,” Charles coos, pulling your chair by its leg to bring you closer to him and wrap a supportive arm around your body. His chest rumbles from his low laughter as he presses kisses to your hair. “We’ll be fine, look at everything we’ve been through, and we’re not even that old.” 

You scoff, hitting his chest in an attempt to get away; you start furiously typing on your computer. “You are old,” you point to him with a tilt of your head, “I’m not, though.” 

He rolls his eyes and turns his concentration to the tab still open on your computer, “You’re going to accept the offer, though, right?” 

You end up accepting the offer. Charles and his family is there alongside yours to send you off on a plane to New York City. Both your mother and Charles’ have tears in their eyes as they say their goodbyes, with your father giving you a similar look. Being the youngest of four siblings, it must’ve been hard to send their youngest all the way across an ocean, but they let you know that you have their support in every step of the way. With Charles’ schedule for the remaining races scattered all over the world, he tells you not to force yourself and to enjoy your first months as a college student. 

You surprise him in Austin, though. Arranging this surprise is definitely not the easiest, but you ask Lorenzo for his help and he is more than happy to make arrangements for you. It’s the end of Friday’s last practice session when you surprise him in the Alfa Romeo garage. He almost walks past you, to get rid of his helmet when you say his name, but once he realises it is you he quickly pulls in for a hug. “What are you doing here?” He asks you while laughing with glee. 

“Heard there’s an immunology seminar in town about the effects of talking a shower and then going out without drying your hair.” You answer with all the seriousness you can muster. 

“Really?” He asks in confusion, taking his helmet and balaclava off and trying to fix his sweat-soaked hair. 

You hit the back of his head lightly, shaking your head in disbelief. “No! I came here to see you race, you idiot!” 

He shakes head in understanding. “Oh, oh!” His eyes widen once again with recognition this time. 

“Yes, oh, now come on, we’re going out.” You’re quick to add, “To dinner because airplane food sucks. We’re going out clubbing after the race, though.” 

True to your word, you go clubbing after his race on Sunday, which Charles is not entertained by. He’s paranoid by the fact that you are in the club with them in the first place, which should not be happening because you’re underage. He keeps silent as you show the bouncer your id, which he knows is a fake, by the way; as he sends Lorenzo an incredulous look, his older brother’s reaction consisting off a shrug of the shoulders makes him more paranoid. 

“Y/N, you should not be drinking.” He voices his concern, as you’re on your second drink of the night. “This is wrong.” 

“How is this different than me drinking back at home?” You argue with your eyebrows raised. “You don’t tell me I can’t drink when we’re back home.” 

“Because it is legal for you to do so there!” Charles exclaims, somehow gathering the attention of some of the clubbers nearby, but he offers them an apological smile and then turns back to you with his voice lowered. “You’re not twenty one, ergo – you shouldn’t be drinking.” 

“Pfft,” You shrug him off, “You’re stupid, and I’m bored. You want to dance?” 

You help Charles to move into his flat in Italy when he starts racing for Ferrari. Though he still lives in Monaco full-time, he rented a small place in Maranello to stay when he’s travelling. It’s an emotional event, which has both of you sitting on the floor of his new apartment going through boxes of old photographs. He finds one of his brothers and Jules with you, standing in front of a karting ring with big smiles in all of your faces. You fingers involuntarily trace over your brother, your eyes misting when you think about the day. 

“He was so young,” You whisper, having to swallow a sob which threatens to escape. 

Your eyes linger on the photograph for a while, and Charles quickly understands that you were not talking about the photograph as the tears you were trying to hold back find their way onto your cheeks. “He was.” He agrees; there aren’t enough words in the world to describe what losing a family member does to a person, and he understands you in a way most people cannot. 

You offer him a sad smile through your tears. “He would be so proud of you.” 

“He would be also so proud of you,” He whispers right back, leaning closer to you so that he could wipe away the few stray tears. “In fact, I am pretty sure he is.” 

“Stop it.” You laugh softly through your tears as you push yourself to get off the floor, and dry under your eyes with your fingers as you look across the room. “Oh my god, Charles, we have so many boxes to go through.” 

He gets up after you and looks around the dusty living room as he attempts to get rid of the dust on his clothes. “We do, don’t we?” He watches as you kneel in front of an unopened box and slice through the tape with a knife, and starting to go through the items in the box. He watches you go through the items silently for a while, noticing how seriously you take the task. His eyes linger on the frown on your face for a while, the way your eyebrows scrunch in question, or how you tuck a stubborn piece of hair, which escapes from the braid in your hair, to the back of your ear. He stalks closer, gently gripping one of your wrists and pulling you to your feet. “Dance with me.” He asks – which comes off less as an ask and more of a demand, which causes you to playfully roll your eyes at him. 

“Charles, the boxes–” You try to argue. 

His laugh is laced with mischief. “The boxes will still be there, chérie, just one dance won’t change anything.” 

You try to come with arguments in your head but all your attempts are quickly thrown out the window when you realise just how green Charles’ eyes actually are. “We don’t have any music.” You try to offer as a measly argument. 

Charles raises his eyebrows as he wraps his arms around your waist after making you wrap yours around his neck. “We don’t need any music, Y/N.” 

So you give up in any attempts in stopping him, as he starts to slowly sway both of your bodies from side to side. You let out a chuckle when he stars, terribly, humming to an old song you used to hear on the radio. “This is stupid.” You mumble as you keep up your pace with his movements. 

“You seem to keep calling me that.” Charles recalls, making both of you laugh in recognition. “I need to tell you something important.” 

“So tell me,” you encourage him, motioning him to continue. 

“I met someone.” He announces, a small smile playing on his lips. 

You breath get stuck for a moment, in which you remind yourself that Charles is waiting for your reaction – most likely a supportive one at that. “Wow, Charles.” You breath out and give him a smile, which you successfully manage to pass off as a supportive one, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your voice breaks off in the end. “I’m so happy for you.”

You’re not stupid – thinking that either of you could stay single forever is an unrealistic one. But it hurts to imagine him with another person while he looks at you like that makes a part of you crumble up into a ball on your bed and cry. And that’s just what you do when you go back to the hotel that night (because the house is still unliveable when the two of you decide you’re done for the day). You try to keep your sobs as quiet as possible because you know Charles is in the hotel room next to yours. As you’re looking out the window, watching the night sky light up with stars in Maranello that night, you tell yourself you, somehow, need to move on from your best friend. 

The next time you see Charles is during Christmas time. You have a tradition – Lorenzo, Charles, Jules and you, a tradition, which Arthur joined once he was old enough. It’s a peculiar one. While it’s not uncommon for most families to watch Christmas movies during this time of the year, your choice of movie has not Christmas elements in it at all. Every Christmas, the four of you watch The Sound of Music. It’s a silly tradition which was born out of boredom and lack of movies one Christmas, but it’s a tradition you managed carried out every year. 

You can still remember Lorenzo complaining because “It’s three hours of songs about whiskers and bass clef.” 

While Jules gives his best friend an unamused glare, both you and Charles try to mimic the Frenchman who you idolise. “It has nuns, songs, Nazis and familial love, Lorenzo, what more could you ask for?” He shrugs as he turns his attention back on screen, “Plus, Julie Andrews is hot.” 

“Why would she be hot?” You remember asking, the woman on the screen not seeming uncomfortable by the weather. 

“No reason,” Jules assures you, wrapping one of his arms around you.“Watch the movie, shortcake.” 

And yes, while it might be stupid to watch the same movie, which has no Christmas value at all, every year on Christmas day, it’s a reminder that you have each other even if you’re not always together. So when you sit down to watch the movie that Christmas, there is a bad feeling in your stomach when you realise Charles is not there to watch it with you. If his brothers also find it weird that he’s not there they don’t make a comment, neither do you, for that matter. You try to push it to the back of your mind and enjoy the moment, telling yourself that even if this is a tradition between the four of you, it’s not the end of the world if you fail to do it. So you smile, and have fun throughout the day – when you’re watching the movie, or when you decide to hold a gingerbread house competition (Arthur wins, by the way), or when you sit down to have dinner with your families, and it makes you feel a thousand times better. 

It’s late when he comes home that night, Lorenzo and Arthur have already passed out on the couch with you trying to read the anatomy textbook on your lap in the low light. 

“Hi.” He greets you as he gives you a tight-lipped smile. 

“Hi.” You whisper back, trying not to wake up the boy sleeping next to you. “Did you have fun?” 

“Yeah, it was a good day.” He answers truthfully, and then motions the book resting on your knees. “Aren’t you going to go to sleep?”

“No, I think I’m going to stay here tonight.” 

He doesn’t argue as he presses a kiss on your temple. “Okay, good night, chérie.”

One thing about Charles, is that he is very secretive about his relationships – to the point where he won’t introduce someone to you or his family if he doesn’t think the relationship is going somewhere. So, when he brings over Charlotte for lunch the next day, there is a buzz around the house. The lunch goes well, you think. Charlotte is sweet, and the two of you talk about many things including your universities; she’s very impressed that you want to go into the medical field and you tell her that architecture must be a pain in the ass to study and she agrees with a loud laugh. 

When Pascale asks them what they did for Christmas yesterday, Charlotte leans against Charles’ arm as she answers, “Oh, nothing. We just stayed home and watched that old movie – what was it again?” 

“The Sound of Music.” Charles answers, his eyes are focused on his hands, and you know this, because your eyes don’t heave his frame until Arthur forces you to carry the dishes into the kitchen. 

“We’ll do them, maman,” he announces when Pascale attempts to tidy up the dishes, “Y/N will help me, won’t you?” 

“Yeah, sure.” You nod, the voice coming off from you not matching the sunny disposition you present to the rest of the room. 

You carry the dishes Arthur passes to you to the kitchen, holding your breath in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, and you succeed, too. At least until Arthur comes after you, carrying more dishes and places them next to the other ones near the kitchen sink. You start scrubbing them with intensity, your sniffles and the sound from water whooshing around in the sink filling the room. Arthur pulls you against him as you lean your forehead to his shoulder, or where you can on his arm due to your height-difference, as you start quietly sobbing. Arthur turns the tap on as he lets you cry into his shoulder. 

The two of you return to the dining room after the dishes are done, and continue the conversation as if nothing happened. After Charlotte announces that she should be on her way, you walk her to the door with everyone, the two of you exchanging numbers as she makes you promise to go shopping with her the next time you’re in Monaco. You agree with a chuckle and tell her only if she teaches you how to draw because your “Anatomy notes are seriously suffering.” After she gives Charles a kiss and leaves, Charles turns to you. 

“It’s just a movie.” He says in a low voice. 

“You’re allowed to have fun with your girlfriend, Charles.” You assure him and pat his shoulder for good measure. Then, you turn to Arthur, who is watching the exchange with a confused look on his face. “Want to play a round before I leave?” 

“Sure,” he agrees and the two of you move into the living room to play a round of F1 on the PlayStation. He sets it up for you as you try to get comfortable on the couch, trying to get rid of the feeling of unease as Charles watches you from the other side of the couch. “Who do you want to pick?” Arthur asks you, the cursor hovering over his choice – who is of course his brother. 

You stay quiet for a moment and answer him in a calm voice, “Give me Max.” 

Charles scoffs from the other side and pushes himself off, his arms crossed over his chest. “Rich, Y/N, just rich.” 

“What?” you ask him with faux innocence and a shrug of your shoulders. 

His voice is accusatory when he snaps, “Stop being childish for a moment.”  

“Oh, I’m being childish?” You ask him, getting off the couch as well. 

“Yes, you’re being extremely childish right now.” He agrees, nodding his head. “Glad we at least agree on that.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask again while narrowing your eyes. 

He scoffs, “It’s just a stupid movie.” 

“I didn’t say a fucking word about the movie, Charles.” You point out, mimicking his pose as you cross your arms over your chest. In reality, it’s a short attempt at trying to hide your shaking hands. “But it’s not a stupid movie, it’s tradition.” 

“Traditions can be broken from time to time.” He argues.

“I didn’t say they couldn’t.” You shrug, trying to appear indifferent to the man in front of you. 

“Maybe if you tried to stick around for more than three days at a time, you wouldn’t be so upset about these type of things.” 

Your mouth hangs open in shock. “Excuse me?”

“Charles, maybe you should–” Arthur tries to stop his brother, but Charles waves him off. 

“Sometimes I think ‘Did I do something?’, but then I realise that maybe the problem is not me–”

Though you’re shocked by his words, you find yourself assuring him, “It’s not, it has nothing to do with you.” 

Both you and Arthur can see something snaps in him, causing him to raise his voice. “Then what is it? Tell me so I can fix it and you can stop running away!” 

You shake your head, your arms which are wrapped around you becoming tighter as an attempt to provide yourself some sort of protection. “You can’t fix it, Charles.” 

His arms become undone as his fists ball on either side of his body. “You don’t know that–”

“No you can’t!” You scream, somehow more tears flowing from your eyes. “You can’t bring Jules back because he’s dead, and you can’t fix me because I’m not a toy! You think I want to live this way? You think I want to go back every damn time I set foot in this city because I just hate it here? I can’t bear the thought of staying here because of the fact that my brother died while I was here and I didn’t get to say goodbye to him.” You point a finger towards him, your voice gradually becoming louder to match his. “He was dead by the time I got back to the hospital and they told me he couldn’t hold on any longer, how do you think that makes me feel every time I feel like I’ve overstayed in this city, huh?”

“You need to stop living in the past, Y/N.” He shakes his head. “Don’t you see you’re letting the past hold you back?” 

“‘Letting the past hold me back’ do you even hear yourself right now? I am trying my best to move on!” 

“By moving across the ocean?” He asks you, “By leaving the people you love you behind?” 

“You– you can do this!” You scream as you walk towards him and jab your finger against his chest. “You told me to take the offer, you told me to move away because you were so sure we’d be fine.” 

“Well maybe I was wrong.” He whispers, grabbing both of your wrists to stop you from poking him and curling his arms closer to his chest. 

Your eyes widen with a furious look in them, which makes him realise he sees more of Jules in them than before. “Screw you, Charles.” You struggle against his hold, hitting his chest with your fists with every word as you scream, “Screw you for trying to dictate how I process my grief, and screw you for acting so indifferent.” You win your struggle in the end, taking advantage of the fact that he is both distracted and speechless to get out of his hold and quickly grab your things. 

“Where are you going?” He asks you as you’re putting your coat on. 

“Anywhere but here.” You snap at him, refusing to meet his eyes. 

Arthur quickly comes near you with a concerned look, “You shouldn’t be driving right now, at least let me drive you.” 

You give him the warmest smile you can muster up, “I’ll be fine, ThurThur,” your eyes find Charles’ as you continue, “Don’t ever change, okay?”

After the disastrous Christmas last year, you two didn’t talk for a whole year, even though the people around you tried their hardest to bring you to talk to each other. Even Charlotte tried to trick you into spending time, claiming that she had a work emergency just as you arrived at the lunch you two scheduled to find Charles sitting there – you quickly left without being seen and spent the day walking through the marina because “Fuck Charles if he thinks you can’t spend more than three days in Monte Carlo.” He spends Christmas with Charlotte again, but unlike this year, you don’t feel sad about his absence, choosing to call it growth when reality it’s actually packing it away to deal with it another time. 

The two of you eventually do make up, though, when you go to one of Arthur’s races to support him and run into Charles on the track. You talk between breaks, both of you succumbing and apologising to each other for the things you’ve said – him more than you, but you still apologise for the way you’ve acted afterwards. Arthur has a strange smile on his face when he finds you, releasing a relieved breath when you told him that you’re fine and you’re going to take baby steps. 

“Good,” he smiles, “maman was about to lock you onto Charles’ yacht.” 

Your therapist calls is ‘survivor’s guilt’. Yes, you have one of those now because although you want it to be false, you think a part of what Charles said might be right. She explains to you that it’s a natural response where someone has suffered a loss and you didn’t. This confuses you, though, because even if the loss in question is the death of your brother, you weren’t there to experience it with the rest of your family. Dr. Gambini is there to explain that “Although it implies experience, it doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t not feel the loss of something you didn’t get to suffer.” So, you go through the therapy experience to try to understand your own feelings, which makes you think maybe it is what you should be focusing on in the first place. It’s an overwhelming feeling, understanding things about yourself which you didn’t before – the things you used to feel slowly gain meaning as you go about it. You’re proud of yourself when you talk about it to your parents, and they tell you that they are proud of you for giving it a go. Charles joins you in one of your sessions – it’s Charlotte’s idea, actually. He tries to understand why, and how he can help you – he leaves the session feeling proud of you for taking care of yourself. 

A few months later, you get a phone call from him when you’re in the middle of the week when you are studying,  while all of your friends are away for spring break. His voice is thick with tears as he tells you that it’s over between him and Charlotte, but refuses to give you a reason when you ask why. It leaves you confused in New York, but when he asks you if you can come home for the weekend, you don’t hesitate to book a ticket for the next flight out. He’s shocked to find you standing in front of his door, but pulls you in for a hug anyway. Neither of you care about the duffel bag that hits the floor at your feet, even when you’re stumbling over it to get to him. You don’t talk, but hold each other throughout the night. He offers to cook for you, but you decide that ordering pizza is a better solution than trying to each what Charles attempts to cook. So, you end up deciding on pizza and a movie. 

You look at him confused when you realise which movie he’s selected, “It’s not Christmas, Charles.” 

He sits down on the couch, and pulls you under his arm as he reaches for the pizza box sitting on the coffee table. There’s a nostalgic smile on his face which you cannot understand. “I owe you two screenings of this movie, Y/N. Now eat your pizza and watch it.” 

So, the two of you watch the movie in silence – with silently laughing in relevant scenes and Charles even attempting to sing the Lonely Goatherd, which leaves you in tears because of how much you’re laughing. At the end of the night he walks you to the guest room in his apartment and pulls you for one last hug, whispering, “Thank you for coming,” into your hair. 

“Of course, Charles.” You whisper, turning your head and softly pressing a kiss to his shirt-covered chest. “Try to get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you in the morning. 

He’s in the kitchen when you wake up in the morning, focusing so intently on something on his phone to notice you. You ruffle his hair as you make your way through the kitchen to make some breakfast for the two of you. “Good morning to you too, you grump.” You tell him, when you finish getting out the ingredients for the breakfast you have in mind. 

“Morning, chérie.” He answers, in a non-committal voice.  

“And to think I was going to make you pancakes.” You sigh as you halt the movement of your hands and lean against the counter. 

A playful smile is on your lips when Charles excitedly raises his head. “Pancakes?” He asks in a soft voice. 

“I was going to add chocolate chips, too, but you didn’t say good morning to me and now I don’t think I’m in mood to be honest with you.” You shrug, starting to put away the bowls you took out. 

He quickly comes behind the counter to tickle some sense in you, and you use the bowl in your hands as a shield as you start laughing. He gives up after a while, pressing a kiss to your temple and fixing some of your hair which fell out of place during the ‘fighting’. “Good morning, how can I help you?”

“Wow, you actually want to help me cook for a change?” You coo, ruffling his hair again and hitting his hip with yours to get him out of your way. “Go wait on the other side, you grumpy baby.” He complies to your directions to sit on the other side of the island, but doesn’t bother with his phone this time. You make a motion towards his phone on the island with your head as you crack the eggs into the bowl. “Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, just some problem with the car.” He answers. “I might need to go to Maranello for a day or two. When is your flight back to New York?” 

“Oh– I can change it if you know the date–” You start to say, but he quickly cuts you off. 

“What? No, I don’t want you to go back.” He quickly says, shaking his head. “I just thought you might want to come with me rather than stay here.” 

“Oh,” You say, looking around. “It’s not a problem, I can stay and study.” 

There is a confused look on his face. “Stay? Here?” He asks over and over again. “Here? Stay? Alone?”

“Yes, Charles, I can manage to stay by myself.” You sigh. “I did it last summer for a month, you can trust me, alright?”

“You were in Monte Carlo for a month, last summer? How did I not catch you at all?” 

You let out another sigh, “In case you don’t realise, I’m very good at avoiding you.” You continue when he gives you yet another confused look as you start mixing the batter. “Charlotte told me to meet her at a restaurant but it was a set up for me to meet with you, so I got in the car and drove away. It was probably the closest we got to each other.” 

“Wow.” He looks at you with wide eyes. “Just, wow.” 

You roll your eyes and glare at him. “Stop looking at me like that. My classes are all online this semester and Dr. Gambini thinks it’s good for me to spend more time here; it’s supposed to help me get closure, or something.” 

He gives you a big smile. “I’m proud of you, Y/N.” 

“Yeah?” You ask him, his smile quickly mirroring on your own lips. 

“Yeah.” He breathes out. “And you can stay here all you want! And cook me breakfast, you know.” 

You let out a laugh this time. “I can get my own place, Charles.” 

“But then who will cook me breakfast?” He asks with a small pout. 

“You are a child, Perceval.” You laugh at the way he looks at you, with his elbows bent over the counter and his upper body leaning over the stove. “I’m only cooking you breakfast; you have to promise you won’t fall in love with me after this.” You joke. 

You turn around to look in the cupboard for the chocolate chips as you hear him mumble, “Too late.” 

You almost hit your head at the open cupboard door when you turn right back to look at him. “What?” You walk towards the island as you mumble out, “No, no, no, no, don’t say that. You just broke up with your girlfriend, Charles.”

“We broke up almost five months ago.” He announces, no hint of joking in his voice. “Right before the Abu Dhabi race.” 

“That’s not true.” You say, shaking your head. “I spoke to Charlotte; she told me everything was fine.” 

He shrugs, then offers you an explanation. “We announced it a couple of months later, but we’ve been broken up for a while.” 

“But then why did you call me a couple of days ago to tell me it was over?” You ask him, visibly confused. 

He looks guilty as he admits. “I– I don’t have a good answer for that.” He stalks over to the other side of the island again to trap you between himself and the marble in an attempt to prevent you from evading. “All I can say is that I love you.” 

“Oh, wow.” You say, suddenly you can find the right choice for words. “Say that again for me?”

“I love you, Y/N.” 

“Now in French?” 

“Je t'aime.”

“In Italian?”

“Ti amo.” He laughs this time, leaning down towards you to bring his face towards yours. “You done?” You nod your head with a giggle escaping past your lips. “This would be a perfect time to say something, you know.” 

“Oh, right.” You nod in acknowledgement. “Thank you.” 

“What?” He asks in horror. 

“Yeah, thank you. You know, for the–”

“Chérie!” He exclaims with his eyes wide. 

You continue your giggles as you place your hands on his cheeks and pull his face towards you, resting his forehead on yours. “I love you too, chez moi,” my home/place. The pancakes are long-forgotten when you pres your lips on his to give him a kiss, somewhere in the universe your twelve year-old is high-fiving with herself, but you are happy to be finally home.