#I’m miss lover girl | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

focusonkayjay · 1 month ago

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right here, yet so far away | oneshot

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: exes to lovers, ceo! jungkook x kindergarten teacher! reader, angst, smut, fluff

Word Count: 19.4k (my hands slipped girl)

Chapter Warnings: mature language, unprotected sex (pls be safe), oral (f. receiving), mentions of an accident, coma, violence (lmk if i missed anything)

A/N: hello cuties. this is a special post in honor of me hitting 300 followers. i cant believe the immense support i have received when it's only been a week. thank you so much for consuming my work and supporting me. also please note, the text in italics are for dream sequences or flashbacks. P.S i know people don't just instantly recover after a long coma, but in this story it's just heavy plot armor, so kindly understand.

“But baby… please just…” Jungkook’s voice cracks as he jogs to catch up, his hand reaching out for yours. You swat it away without hesitation, the sting of rejection hitting him harder than any words ever could.

“Jungkook, stop it.” you say firmly, your tone sharp enough to cut through his soul. He freezes, his wide eyes searching yours for answers.

“But baby, just tell me why? We were doing so good… just yesterday, you... you said you loved me. Please, you can’t just... leave like this.”

He tries to observe your expression, hoping to convince himself that this is just some cruel joke. But there’s no softness in your eyes, no flicker of doubt. Only a cold, unyielding resolve.

“Don’t you understand?” you scoff, folding your arms tightly across your chest. “I’m tired of you, Jungkook. I’m tired of us.” His breath hitches, disbelief flashing across his face. “Stop. Don’t say that. You don’t… you don’t mean that.”

“I do.” you insist, each word a dagger to his heart. “I mean every word of it. I’m done with you. This whole relationship… it’s not going anywhere. It’s a waste of time, and I just… I can’t, Jungkook. We have to break up.”

His shoulders slump, and his chest rises and falls as though the air has been knocked out of him. He stands frozen, staring at you, desperate to find some hint of hesitation in your expression. But all he sees is resolve… or at least, what you’re determined to show him.

“Why?” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

You stare at him blankly. "Because I don’t love you anymore.” you reply, your voice unwavering. Jungkook flinches as if struck. His lips part, but no words come out. And when you turn around and walk away, the sound of your retreating footsteps echoes in his ears, louder than any goodbye, as your body disappears into the darkness.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The shrill wail of the alarm slices through the silence, and Jungkook's eyes harshly open. He gasps for air, his chest heaving as the nightmare clings to him like a second skin.

It’s always the same nightmare. The same scene. The same words. The same look on your face. The same crushing weight in his chest.

He drags a hand down his face, the coolness of his palm doing little to soothe him. His dark hair sticks to his forehead, damp with sweat, and he blinks up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above him.

For a moment, he just sits there, the silence of his apartment wrapping around him like a cold blanket. A single tear trickles down his temple as images of you flash in his mind, one after the other. His phone buzzes on the nightstand... a reminder of the meetings and deadlines awaiting him, but he doesn’t move.

Four months. It’s been four months since you walked away, and he still doesn’t understand why.

He remembers the day of the break up like it was yesterday. The scene is so vividly planted in his mind that he even sees it in his sleep. He can’t get rid of the way you looked at him… like you despised the sight of him, like you truly didn’t love him anymore.

He still doesn’t have his answers. Why did you leave so suddenly? Why did your heart just decide it didn’t want him anymore? The questions linger in his mind, unanswered, gnawing at him like a constant ache he can’t escape.

Jungkook remains rooted on his mattress, the weight of memories pressing down on him as he recalls the first time he saw you. It was over two years ago, but when he recollects it, it feels so vivid, like it's happening in the present.

He had been reluctant to attend an event that was scheduled at a local kindergarten nearby. Exhausted from a long flight back from the States, he’d tried to get out of it. But his assistant, understanding the importance of his role as the CEO, insisted that he'd attend it regardless.

His company wasn’t just about selling food products, it was dedicated to promoting healthy living, especially for children. They organized events to educate kids on the importance of good nutrition, partnered with schools to provide nutritious meals, and created fun, interactive programs to get children excited about eating right.

Though Jungkook wasn’t keen on spending his afternoon with a room full of energetic kids, he went anyway. The workshop had already started and the moment he stepped into the classroom, ready to grab the attention of the kids, he suddenly spotted you.

You were standing at the front of the room, a soft smile on your face as you engaged with the children, laughing with them and cracking jokes. Your energy was infectious, and the way you moved with such ease around the kids made his heart skip a beat. There was something so warm and genuine about you, something that immediately drew him in.

It wasn’t just the way you looked... though you were undeniably beautiful, but how you carried yourself, the kindness that radiated from you, and how at home you seemed in this world of tiny hands and laughter. Jungkook had never been the type to believe in love at first sight, but the moment his eyes landed on you, something inside him shifted.

He had been smitten, captivated in a way he couldn’t explain. His thoughts had scattered as he watched you, his mind far from the speech he was supposed to be giving. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you had captured his attention, and yet he couldn’t look away.

It wasn’t until later, when he was preparing to leave, that he finally found the courage to approach you. He had been nervous, unsure of what to say. But the moment you looked at him, a simple greeting from you was all it took.

Your smile was enough to melt any lingering doubt he had. He introduced himself, his voice slightly shaky but confident enough to make a lasting impression. And you, with that same gentle smile, responded in kind words, immediately making him feel at ease.

He had no idea at that moment that this chance encounter would change his life in the best way possible.

Now, laying in his bed, Jungkook smiles bitterly, remembering how it all started. How he had the most beautiful relationship with you for around a year and three months. How one decision, one visit to that kindergarten, led to everything he lost.

He still can't understand why you left him the way you did, without explanation, without any chance for him to fix whatever went wrong. The image of your face that day... the coldness, the finality, haunts him still.

Despite the whirlwind of thoughts clouding his mind, Jungkook forces himself to push them aside. He stares at the ceiling for a moment longer, allowing the weight of the memories to settle, before finally making the decision to get up.

He knows he can’t linger in this state forever. The day is waiting for him, and he can’t afford to let his emotions hold him back. With a sigh, he swings his legs off the bed and plants his feet firmly on the floor. The familiar coldness of the hardwood beneath his feet is grounding, and for a brief moment, he feels a sense of control over the chaos in his mind.

The early morning light filters through the blinds, casting a soft glow on his room. He moves to the bathroom, running cold water over his face, hoping it will somehow shake the fog from his thoughts. It’s a futile attempt, but it’s enough to snap him into the present, if only for a few minutes.

Jungkook stares at his reflection in the mirror, taking a deep breath. His mind is still heavy, but he’s learned over the years to compartmentalize, especially when it comes to work. He’s the CEO and his company can’t afford to be distracted by his personal life. No matter how much his heart aches, there’s a bigger picture to focus on.

You glance at the kids, focused on their coloring books, and a soft smile tugs at your lips. They’re adorable, each one lost in their own little world, their tiny hands gripping crayons as they carefully add color to their drawings. You walk around the room, quietly observing their work, admiring the little bursts of creativity.

As you pass by the window, your gaze drifts outside, where a few children are running and playing on the soccer field. You let out a sigh, your fingers subconsciously tracing the pendant of your necklace.

It’s the only thing that connects you to him, to the one that got away, to the one you let slip right through your fingers, even when it hurt to do so. You close your eyes for a brief moment, and his image floods your mind. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled, the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence.

You miss him so badly, your chest tightening with the weight of it. But you push the feeling down, swallowing the ache in your heart. You remind yourself why it had to end, why you had to walk away. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

As you stare at the bleachers stand by the green field, a vivid and unpleasant memory creeps up your mind.

"Break up with him."

Junghyun's voice was calm, his eyes fixed on the empty soccer field ahead. The chilly evening breeze brushed past your hair, but it did little to cool the heat rising in your chest. You turned to look at him, disbelief written all over your face.

"What?" you asked, your voice carrying a mix of confusion and irritation. Junghyun was Jungkook's older brother, and his unexpected visit had left you completely on edge.

You had only met this man once before, a fleeting encounter when you accidentally bumped into him outside Jungkook’s apartment one morning. Seeing him now, unannounced at your workplace, caught you completely off guard.

"Break up with him, Y/N." he repeated, turning to face you this time. His gaze was piercing, his tone unyielding. "You know you two belong to completely separate worlds. Jungkook isn’t in love... he’s just infatuated. And frankly..." he continued, his voice dropping with disdain. "You’re nothing but a distraction."

You stared at him, your mind reeling from the audacity of his words. The traffic noise in the far distance felt like static compared to the ringing in your ears. "Are you serious right now?" you managed to say, your tone sharper than you intended.

Junghyun didn’t flinch. "I’m completely serious. Do you think this little fling of yours will lead to anything? Jungkook has responsibilities... he has a company to run, a legacy to uphold. You’re a kindergarten teacher, Y/n. A sweet girl, sure, but not someone who can keep up with him."

His words stung, but you refused to show it. "Jungkook loves me." you stated firmly, your voice unwavering. "I know how he feels about me. So whatever you’re trying to pull, it won’t work."

Junghyun scoffed, shaking his head. "Love? You call this love? He’s smitten, sure, but that doesn’t mean it’ll last. You’ll only hold him back."

You clenched your fists, your chest tightening with frustration. Every instinct in you wanted to yell at him, to tell him how wrong he was, how little he knew about what you and Jungkook shared.

You breathed heavily, your eyes narrowing as they locked onto him. "I'm going to pretend we never had this conversation." you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil bubbling inside. Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel, stepping off the bleacher stands and ready to head back inside.

“Hanyung Hospital.” Junghyun’s voice suddenly rang out, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your breath hitched, and your eyebrows furrowed as your back remained turned to him. A wave of unease settled over you, his words striking a chord you wished he hadn’t found.

“Isn’t that where your brother is admitted?” His tone was sharp, laced with a smirk you didn’t need to see to recognize.

Slowly, you turned to face him, your heart racing as panic flashed across your features. Had this man done a background check on you? Your mind reeled at the thought, fear and anger coursing through you in equal measure.

Junghyun’s smirk deepened as he saw the panic etched on your face. “Guess I know a little too much about you, sweetheart.” he said smoothly, his words dripping with a smug satisfaction.

Your fists clenched at your sides, but your voice caught in your throat. The realization that he had gone to such lengths made your skin crawl, and a sense of dread settled in your stomach.

"See, this is the problem with you lowlifes..." Junghyun sneered, his voice dripping with disrespect. "You have so many weaknesses, yet you never stop dreaming big." He let out a cruel laugh, his eyes glinting with amusement at your stunned silence.

You stared at him, your throat tightening as if the words you wanted to say were caught in a vice. "I heard he’s been in a coma for four years." he continued, his tone casual, almost mocking.

Your eyes stung with unshed tears, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. The mention of your brother... the very core of your vulnerability, felt like a dagger twisting in your heart.

“Maybe I should make sure this coma lasts forever—”

"What?" The word burst out of you before he could finish. Panic surged through you, visible in the way your breathing quickened. Junghyun’s smirk widened, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction at your reaction. He relished the fear and desperation etched across your face, feeding off the control he had over the situation.

"Leave my brother out of this." you managed to say, your voice low but firm, fists clenched tightly at your sides. "This has nothing to do with him."

You forced yourself to regulate your breathing, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions that were threatening to spill over. But deep down, you knew exactly what this man was doing. And it felt like a threat too enormous to escape.

Junghyun’s smirk only deepened, his silence more unsettling than words. It was as though he reveled in watching you squirm under the weight of his insinuations.

Your mind raced, every possible scenario flashing before you. The influence Jungkook’s family wielded wasn’t just intimidating, it was terrifying. They were rich, powerful, and connected in ways you could only imagine.

For all you knew, they could probably make someone disappear without a trace. And standing face-to-face with Junghyun, you started to think that was your chilling reality.

You swallowed hard, meeting his gaze with as much resolve as you could muster, but the unease in your chest lingered. You felt trapped, cornered by an enemy who knew just where to strike to hurt you the most.

"Well, sweetheart, I want to leave him out of this too..." Junghyun sighed, his tone mockingly sympathetic. "And you know exactly what you need to do for that to happen."

His words struck like a hammer, each syllable weighing heavier than the last. You felt your whole world collapsing around you, the walls closing in with no way out. You felt suffocated. Cornered. Powerless.

Your gaze dropped to your feet, tears pooling in your eyes despite your desperate attempts to hold them back. The fight within you slowly crumbled, leaving only the unbearable weight of his ultimatum.

You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you fought to keep yourself composed.

"I'll break up with him." you whispered finally, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. A tear slipped down your cheek, the first crack in the dam as the reality of your surrender settled in.

Junghyun stepped down from the bleacher stands, his slow footsteps growing louder in your ears. You didn’t move, your feet rooted to the ground as if the weight of your decision had physically anchored you.

He stopped in front of you, and you felt his presence, his amusement radiating like poison. A soft laugh escaped him, sending shivers down your spine.

"Now that was easy, wasn’t it?" he mocked, patting your head like you were a child who had just followed orders. Your jaw tightened, teeth gritting at the humiliating gesture, but you remained silent.

"And this goes without saying, but... Jungkook should never hear about this encounter." Junghyun said, his voice low and taunting as he stepped closer.

You didn’t respond, your throat too tight and your mind too fogged with fear and anger to formulate a reply.

He smirked at your silence before brushing past you, deliberately bumping into your shoulder as if to remind you just how insignificant he believed you to be. The force was slight, but it felt heavier, laden with the weight of everything he’d taken away from you in the matter of mere minutes.

The chilly breeze cut through the quiet, and you felt it settle deep into your bones, a reminder of just how cold the world could be.

"Miss Choi!" a little voice pierces through the haze of your flashback, pulling you back to reality. Your eyes shift from the bleacher stands outside to the source of the voice. A little girl waves her broken color pencil in the air, her tiny face scrunched in distress.

You force a smile, the corners of your lips lifting as you walk towards her. "Give me that, let me sharpen it for you, Sera." you say softly, patting her head. She nods cutely, her eyes wide with trust and gratitude.

You exhale deeply, the weight in your chest still pressing down as you make your way to the trash can. As the sharpener scrapes against the pencil, you think to yourself. Stop dwelling on the past.

You knew how deeply you felt for Jungkook. He was more than just a fleeting love... he was a part of you, your safe place. But the weight of Junghyun's threat had been too much to bear. It wasn’t a fight you could win, not against soemone as powerful as him.

The memory of that day gnaws at you, the helplessness, the bitterness of making a decision you despised with every fiber of your being. But what choice did you have?

Handing the pencil back to Sera, you muster another soft smile. Her joyful expression tugs at your heart, a stark contrast to the storm inside you.

All you can do now is hope that Jungkook is living a happy life, far from the shadows of the truth that forced you apart.

Jungkook adjusts his position in the sleek leather chair, trying to focus on the ongoing meeting. The conference room hums with the low murmur of voices as his team discusses the logistics of their next community outreach initiative.

The large screen at the front displays a vibrant presentation, but his mind drifts, struggling to stay anchored in the moment.

“Mr. Jeon.” Eunwoo, the Chief Operating Officer, speaks up, pulling him back to reality. “We’re finalizing the details for the event at the Sunflower Orphanage this weekend.” he says, his tone calm but purposeful.

“It’s part of our ‘Healthy Futures’ program.” Eunwoo continues, “Where we teach the kids about nutrition and provide them with tools to build healthier habits.”

Jungkook nods, his jaw tightening slightly. He taps his pen against the notepad in front of him, the blank page mirroring his lack of focus. “Good. Ensure we send enough materials for the interactive sessions. I’ll review the activity plans later today.”

Eunwoo presses on. “We’re also organizing a cooking demonstration for the older kids and distributing care packages with nutritious snacks and recipe guides. It might be a good idea for you to attend. I think the kids would really enjoy meeting you.”

Jungkook exhales softly, running a hand through his hair. Public appearances at these events are part of his responsibility, something he takes seriously. Yet, the thought of being surrounded by bright-eyed children feels heavier than usual, a strange weight pressing against his chest.

“I’ll check my schedule.” he replies, his tone measured, masking the unease he can’t quite shake.

As the meeting concludes, Jungkook steps out of the conference room, loosening his tie as he makes his way towards his office. The familiar click of shoes on the polished floor follows close behind, signaling his secretary, Jimin, is trailing him.

“Your schedule is free, Mr. Jeon.” Jimin remarks, a teasing edge in his voice. “It’s literally the weekend.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, letting out a long sigh. “I know, but I just don’t feel like going.” he mutters, his stride purposeful as he heads towards his cabin.

Jimin quickens his pace to match Jungkook’s, his tone light but persistent. “The kids would love it, Mr. Jeon. Plus, it’s your responsibility.”

Jungkook groans inwardly, knowing there’s no winning an argument when Jimin uses that reasoning. “Fine.” he relents, glancing over his shoulder with a pointed glare. “But... you’re coming with me.”

“Of course.” Jimin quips with a smirk, unfazed. “I go wherever my boss goes.”

Jungkook shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite himself, before pushing open the door to his cabin. “You’re insufferable.” he mutters, disappearing inside. Jimin grins to himself, adjusting his tie. “It’s part of the job.” he mutters quietly before heading back to his desk.

The familiar scent of antiseptic and faint floral air freshener envelops you as you step into the hospital. You glance around, taking in the sight of doctors briskly walking in their white coats, nurses tending to charts, and patients navigating the lobby with family members by their sides. The soft hum of conversations and the occasional beep of monitors create a somber yet steady rhythm.

You make your way to the reception desk, offering a small smile to the woman behind the counter. Her face lights up with recognition.

“You’re early today.” she notes gently. You nod, your expression soft. “I just missed Beomgyu.” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. She smiles warmly, her eyes filled with understanding. “Go ahead.” she says, motioning towards the elevator.

You thank her with a brief smile before turning and stepping into the elevator, pressing the button to take you to the floor where your brother’s room is.

The soft chime of the elevator brings you back to reality as the doors slide open. You walk down the familiar corridor, each step feeling heavier as you approach his room. Pushing the door open, your breath catches in your throat as your eyes land on Beomgyu. His motionless body lies on the bed, the faint hum of medical equipment the only sign of life. Four years. It’s been four long years, and he hasn’t moved an inch.

You sit down in the chair next to his bed, your hands trembling as you reach for his. His hand is cold in yours, and the weight of it brings tears to your eyes. But you blink them away, determined to stay strong.

“Hey, Gyu.” you whisper, brushing your thumb gently over his knuckles. Your voice is soft, filled with a bittersweet mix of hope and sorrow. “I’m here.”

No matter how many times you see him like this, it never gets easier. Each visit feels like a fresh wound, a new wave of pain crashing over you. He was your only family and the sight of his still body, the steady beep of the monitor, and the faint rise and fall of his chest... it all feels both familiar and unbearable. Every time, it’s as if a tiny piece of your heart breaks all over again.

As you stare at his face, a sigh escapes your lips, heavy with the weight of countless unshed tears. "Gyu..." you whisper, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "It’s getting so hard." Your words falter, carried by the quiet hum of the machines that have become the soundtrack of his existence.

"No matter what I do... I just... I just can’t stop thinking about him." you confess, closing your eyes as the first tear escapes, tracing a slow, burning path down your cheek. Your grip on Beomgyu’s hand tightens, your thumb brushing over his knuckles in slow, rhythmic motions. Though his hand remains lifeless, you hold on as if it’s your last tether to sanity, as if somehow he can feel your anguish.

Maybe he hears me, you think, clinging to the hope that keeps you returning to this room day after day. "I miss him so much." you murmur, your voice cracking under the weight of those words. The sob that escapes your lips feels like a betrayal, exposing just how deeply the pain has taken root.

Beomgyu never met Jungkook... yet, in your heart, you know that if he ever did... he would have absolutely loved him.

You remember that one day you brought Jungkook here, to visit Beomgyu, his hand firmly holding yours as you led him down these sterile hallways.

He had sat beside you, his arm wrapped protectively around your trembling frame, as you told him about the accident that had stolen Beomgyu’s vibrant spirit and left him in this suspended state. Jungkook’s presence had been an anchor that day, steady and reassuring, his soft murmurs giving you the courage to speak through your tears.

And then, there was that promise. You can still hear your own voice, shaky but determined, as you looked into Jungkook’s eyes. "When Beomgyu wakes up, you’ll be the first to know." The memory feels like a lifetime ago, a fragment of a world where hope felt tangible and love wasn’t wrapped in layers of regret.

Now, that promise lingers like a ghost, haunting you with its impossibility. The weight of it presses against your chest, suffocating in its quiet accusation.

You lower your head, your tears falling silently onto the sterile sheets, wishing for a reality where things could have been different... where Beomgyu would wake up, and Jungkook would still be yours to call.

After spending about forty minutes sitting by your brother’s side, you feel the weight of time press down on you. With a reluctant sigh, you lean forward, pressing a gentle kiss on his cool forehead. The stillness of the room wraps around you like an unwanted embrace, amplifying the ache in your chest.

You stand, taking a moment to drink in the sight of him, his face so serene yet painfully distant. Finally, you force yourself to turn away, the sharp pull of grief hurting you even as your feet carry you towards the door.

The hospital hallways stretch before you, illuminated by fluorescent lights that feel too bright for the heaviness clouding your heart. The muted chatter of families and nurses echoes faintly around you, but you tune it out, your focus on the floor ahead.

Every step feels heavy, yet familiar... grief walking alongside you like an old companion. You’re lost in thought, your mind lingering on memories you can't quite hold onto, when the sharp ring of your phone jolts you back to the present.

You pause, fishing the device out of your bag. The name on the screen makes a faint smile touch your lips. "Hey, Joonie." you greet, your tone soft but warm.

“Oh my god Y/N...Hi... where have you been?” Namjoon’s voice filters through, steady yet tinged with his usual concern. “I was just visiting Beomgyu.” you reply, stepping into the elevator as the doors slide open.

“Ah...” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a gentler note. “Sorry if I disturbed you.”

“No, not at all.” you assure him, leaning against the elevator wall. “I was just about to leave anyway. What’s up?” There’s a slight pause on the other end before he continues talking. “I wanted to check if you’re coming to the orphanage this weekend. You know... for the volunteering session.”

The mention of the orphanage brings a warmth to your chest. Your lips curve into a genuine smile as you think of the place that’s come to feel like a second home. “Of course I’ll be there.” you reply without hesitation.

“That's great!!” Namjoon says, a hint of relief in his tone. “Mrs. Lee mentioned there’s going to be some kind of workshop for the kids, though I’m not really sure what it’s about.”

You hum thoughtfully, stepping out of the elevator as it dings open on the ground floor. “A workshop? That sounds interesting. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what it's about.” you muse, the faint hum of curiosity threading through your voice.

Namjoon chuckles lightly. “Yeah, seems like it. Anyways, you get home safe, Y/N-ah. I'll see you on the weekend.” he says. “See you Joonie... Bye.” you reply, your smile lingering as the call ends.

As you slip your phone back into your bag and step into the cool evening air, a quiet sense of purpose washes over you. The orphanage, specifically, the Sunflower Orphanage, holds a deeply rooted place in your heart.

It’s not just a building, it’s a chapter of your life, a part of your story written alongside your brother, Beomgyu as the two of you grew up there and navigated a world that often felt too vast and too indifferent.

Volunteering there every weekend for the past month with Namjoon hasn’t just been about giving back to the place that shaped you, it’s become a way to honor the struggles you and Beomgyu once faced.

It’s a way of making peace with the past while helping to build a brighter future for the children still living it. The act of helping others has started to feel like a balm for your soul, a small piece of healing in a journey that has felt insurmountable at times.

More than that, it’s helped you stay busy, distracted, keeping your mind from wandering too often to the void that has been lingering in your life for the past four months, an emptiness you’re not ready to confront fully yet.

Every smile from the kids, every hug, every story they share with you reminds you why you’ve always wanted to be a kindergarten teacher.

Now, being able to follow your dream and also volunteer at the very orphanage you grew up in, doing your best to give these children the care and love you once longed for, feels profoundly rewarding.

There’s a bittersweet comfort in walking the same halls you once did, now as a volunteer instead of a resident. You find joy in helping the kids paint their dreams on blank canvases, in reading stories that spark their imaginations, and in simply being a presence they can rely on.

The Orphanage, with its chipped walls and resilient spirit, has become more than a part of your history... it’s a part of your healing, too.

Saturday

"Shit, shit." you mutter under your breath, hastily paying the cab driver before dashing towards the entrance of the orphanage. You were supposed to be here early today, especially since you knew there was a workshop planned for the kids.

Mrs. Lee had mentioned needing help with the setup and cleanup, and you’d eagerly offered. But luck hadn’t been on your side. First, your original cab broke down, forcing you to find another. Then, traffic decided to conspire against you, dragging out what should’ve been a quick journey into an agonizing wait.

As you ran up the steps at the entrance, slightly out of breath, your eyes catch on something that brings you to an abrupt halt. A large banner hangs above the double doors, bold letters printed across it. The sight of it makes your stomach churn.

“No way...” you whisper, realization dawning like a bucket of ice water poured over your head as you read the banner. “This is… Jungkook’s workshop?”

You stand frozen, trying to process what you’re seeing. The placards stationed around the entrance leave no room for doubt. Each one bears the unmistakable logo of his company. The presentation materials stacked neatly by the door, the branded posters, and even the staff moving equipment inside all scream his involvement.

You inhale sharply, the air catching in your throat. Of course, it had to be here. Of all the orphanages in the city, the one you’ve been volunteering at for the past month had to be the very place where Jungkook... your ex boyfriend, Jungkook... is hosting a workshop. The universe really has a twisted sense of humor sometimes.

“Fuck.” you mutter, closing your eyes and trying to calm the storm brewing in your chest. You press a hand against the doorframe to steady yourself, taking deep breaths to fight off the anxiety creeping up your spine.

Your mind races with questions you’re not sure you want answers to. Is he here? Or is this one of those events where his employees take the lead while he stays behind the scenes? Should you turn around and leave before anyone notices, or would that make things worse?

You glance back at the cab, still idling by the curb. For a fleeting second, the idea of jumping back in and leaving tempts you. But then you hear the sound of children’s laughter filtering through the open doors, mingling with the excited chatter of the staff, and you know you can’t just leave.

Bracing yourself, you take another deep breath and step inside, your heart pounding harder with each step. The familiar warmth of the orphanage wraps around you, but today it feels heavier, tinged with the tension you’re carrying. You repeat a silent mantra, trying to ground yourself. Stay professional. This is about the kids. Nothing else matters.

“I’ll just… I’ll just pretend I don’t know him.” you mutter under your breath, nodding to yourself as your footsteps echo in the hallway.

As you step into the bustling main hall, your eyes land on Namjoon almost immediately. The minute he spots you too, it doesn’t take long for him to weave his way through the crowd towards you, his expression a mix of shock and concern. “Y/N…” he begins, his voice low but urgent as he reaches you. “I had no idea this was going to be his workshop.” The disbelief in his tone mirrors your own feelings.

You throw your head back, a groan escaping your lips. “I know. What the hell am I supposed to do? Is he really here, though? Or is it just his team running the workshop?” you ask, a flicker of hope creeping into your voice as you glance at him.

Namjoon hesitates, his lips pressing into a thin line as if he’s trying to cushion the blow. “Unfortunately…” he starts, his tone apologetic. “He’s here. I just saw him talking to Mrs. Lee a few minutes ago.” You close your eyes, rubbing your temples. “This is so, so, so not fair.” you mutter, your frustration bubbling over.

“Hey…” Namjoon’s voice softens as he places his hands on your shoulders, steadying you. His calm presence is like an anchor in the midst of your swirling emotions. “You’re going to be fine. I know breaking up with him was hard for you, but right now... the best you can do is just stay professional. Pretend like you don’t know him and I’m sure he won’t approach you… I hope.” he adds with a small, uncertain smile.

You let out a shaky sigh, your shoulders slumping under the weight of the situation. Namjoon’s logic makes sense, but it does little to calm the storm brewing inside you. “I haven’t seen him in four months, Joon.” you admit, your voice shaky. “And now, of all times, I have to see him? Here?”

Namjoon offers you a sympathetic look, his hand squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. “I know it’s hard, but I know you’ve got this. Just try your best to avoid him.”

You nod slowly, though you’re far from convinced. This isn’t a situation you can simply walk away from. Jungkook’s presence is inevitable now, and the thought of seeing him again, after everything, sends a whirlwind of emotions crashing through you.

You're aware Jungkook won't be expecting to see you here today and you can't help but wonder what his reaction will be when he actually ends up seeing you. Would his expression shift the moment he spots you? Would it be one of cold indifference, barely a flicker of acknowledgment? Or something sharper like anger, disappointment, perhaps even sadness? The possibilities swirl in your mind, each one more unsettling than the last.

Shaking your head, you force yourself to brush the questions aside. There’s no time to dwell on this right now. You take a steadying breath and look around the busy hall. It’s high time you start helping out. After all, you’re already late, and the least you can do is make up for lost time by pitching in wherever you’re needed.

Once all the kids are settled in their seats, their excitement bubbling over in the form of giggles and whispers, you step back, making your way to the back of the room. Namjoon is already there, his arms crossed loosely as he leans against the wall. You take your place beside him, exhaling deeply, trying to calm your heart and mind.

As the workshop begins, your eyes inevitably drift to the front of the room. Jungkook stands there, effortlessly commanding attention. He’s dressed sharply but casually, the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down shirt exposing his tattooed forearm. His presence is magnetic, and it’s no surprise that even the youngest kids are riveted as he begins to speak.

“This program is called 'Healthy Futures'.” he starts, his tone warm and inviting. “It’s about giving you the knowledge and tools to take care of your health. Eating the right food, staying active, and understanding how to take care of your bodies... it’s not just important now, but it’ll help you for years to come.”

He gestures to a large poster board displaying colorful illustrations of fruits, vegetables, and simple meal plans. “Today, we’ll talk about nutrition, and we’ll even have some fun activities to show you how to make smart food choices. You’ll see how easy it can be to make meals that are both delicious and good for you.”

The kids are wide-eyed, soaking up every word. Jungkook’s ability to connect with them is undeniable. As he dives into the presentation, explaining concepts in simple, engaging terms and peppering his talk with questions to keep the kids involved, a small smile tugs at your lips.

You watch as he crouches down to a child’s level, handing them a flashcard and encouraging them to name the food group it belongs to. The way his eyes light up with genuine enthusiasm when the child gets it right is a sight that momentarily softens the ache in your chest.

You can’t help but smile, even if it’s bittersweet. Seeing him like this... passionate, caring, and entirely in his element... reminds you of the man you fell in love with. His natural charm, the way he effortlessly makes others feel seen and valued, is just as captivating now as it was then.

Namjoon nudges you gently. “You okay?” he asks, his voice low. You nod again, your gaze fixed on Jungkook. “Yeah.” you whisper, though the lump forming in your throat makes it a struggle to get the word out. “I’m fine.” you say.

As Jungkook wraps up his talk, his voice is steady and warm, a reflection of the effort he’s poured into making this workshop meaningful. “Alright, kids, now it’s time for the fun part...” he announces with a grin.

“My team is going to help you make a simple, healthy snack, something delicious and easy that you can make yourselves... so follow them and they'll guide you through the process." he says.

The children erupt in cheers and applause, their excitement echoing through the hall. Jungkook’s smile widens at their enthusiasm, the earlier reluctance he felt about being here melting away. It’s moments like these that make everything worth it. Seeing their faces light up is a reward far greater than any professional accolade.

As the kids begin to disperse, following the other employees out of the hall, Jungkook takes a moment to glance around, his eyes scanning the room to take in the atmosphere. And then he suddenly sees you.

Jungkook lips part a watches you intently, his eyes trailing as you exchange words with Namjoon before following him out of the room. His throat feels dry, his mind reeling. She's… here? The words echo in his head as his heart pounds erratically against his ribcage.

He gulps, trying to steady himself, but the unexpected sight of you has thrown him completely off balance. Before he can fully process his spiraling thoughts, Jimin’s voice cuts through the haze.

“Mr. Jeon, shall we?” he prompts, his tone professional but gentle, unknowingly grounding Jungkook back to the present. He blinks, nodding faintly as he forces his legs to move, trailing behind his secretary towards the activity room.

But just when he enters the activity room, what he doesn't expect is for you to be the first person he sees. You’re standing just a few feet away, holding a precarious stack of trays to distribute it among the kids. Your focus is elsewhere, until your eyes suddenly meet his. The world tilts for a moment as your face registers a mix of shock and disbelief.

The impact of seeing him here, so close, sends a jolt through you. Your grip falters, and before you can stop it, the trays slip from your hands, the clattering sound echoing through the room as everything scatters across the floor.

The kids go silent, their chatter replaced by a stunned hush as all eyes turn towards you. The embarrassment and panic that flood your system make your skin prickle, but before you can even begin to move, Jungkook is already in front of you.

“Are you... are you okay?” His voice is low, concerned, his hands gently closing over yours as if to steady you. His touch is firm yet hesitant, and the warmth of his palms against your skin sends a shiver through you.

You can barely process his words, your heart pounding too loudly in your ears. Your lips part, but no sound comes out as you struggle to respond. The way he’s looking at you... those familiar dark eyes filled with a mixture of worry and something deeper, makes it impossible to think straight.

“I uhhh... I’m fine.” you finally stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Your cheeks burn as you quickly try to pull your hands back, but he doesn’t let go immediately. His fingers linger for a second longer than necessary, as if he’s reluctant to lose the contact.

Namjoon, having watched the entire scene unfold, clears his throat as he approaches. “Y/N, are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?” he asks, his tone gentle yet purposeful, as if trying to diffuse the tension.

“I’m fine.” you repeat, louder this time, forcing yourself to look away from Jungkook as you pull your hand away from his and focus on the mess on the floor. You crouch down, starting to pick up the scattered trays, desperate to avoid his eyes. Namjoon joins you without a word, but you can feel Jungkook’s gaze still fixed on you.

Jimin steps forward, clearly confused by the sudden commotion. “Mr. Jeon, should we...” he starts, glancing between Jungkook and the scene before him, but Jungkook barely acknowledges him. His focus is solely on you, his mind racing as he tries to process everything.

For Jungkook, this moment feels surreal. He hadn’t prepared himself for seeing you... not here, not like this. And now, with you so close yet seemingly so far, the weight of everything unsaid between you presses down on him like a tidal wave.

He wants nothing more than to just hold you, to pull you close and take in every detail of your face. These four months have been nothing short of hell, filled with an unrelenting ache for your presence.

But as he watches you so obviously avoiding him, he feels rooted to the spot, his mind scrambling to find the right words... words that refuse to come out.

Once the kids are fully immersed in their activity, you quietly slip out of the room, desperate for a moment to catch your breath. The weight of Jungkook’s presence had pressed on you relentlessly for the past twenty minutes, his gaze a constant reminder of the unresolved emotions between you two. Each stolen glance felt like it peeled back layers of the wall you’d carefully built around yourself.

The hallway is quiet as you walk towards the large window at the far end, your footsteps muffled against the polished floor. You pause there, gazing out at the orphanage’s small garden, the scene outside blurring as your mind spins.

Your fingers find the pendant hidden beneath your sweater, and you begin to fidget with it, the familiar texture grounding you. This pendant, this tiny piece of jewelry, holds a weight of its own, a connection to a past that feels both distant and ever-present.

Seeing Jungkook up close had hit you harder than you expected. He hadn’t changed. He was still just as beautiful, still radiated that quiet warmth that had always drawn people to him. The same warmth you’d once found comfort in.

And you missed him... God, you missed him in a way that made your chest ache. But that only made it worse. Because you couldn’t let yourself fall apart, not now, not when you had to face him. You’re so lost in thought that the sound of a familiar voice startles you.

“Y/n.”

Your body tenses instantly. You don’t turn, your fingers reflexively tucking the pendant back beneath your sweater as if it’s some fragile secret you need to protect. You stay facing the window, your breaths shallow as you try to steady your heartbeat.

“You… won’t even look at me?” Jungkook's voice is soft, hesitant, but the pain in it cuts through you like a blade. You bite your lip, your eyes still fixed on the view outside, but all you can feel is him. The rawness of his words sinks into you, heavy and unshakable.

“Y/n…” His voice comes again, quieter this time, almost breaking. It’s not just a name... it’s a plea, one you wish you could ignore but know you can’t.

You hate this. You hate that Jungkook, of all people... the kindest, most selfless soul you’ve ever known... is standing here now, burdened by the pain you caused him. You hate that you’re the one who turned his world upside down. And yet, even now, you can’t bring yourself to face him.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself as you turn to face him. Your expression is blank, a carefully constructed mask. “What?” The word comes out cold, clipped, and you instantly regret the sharpness of your tone.

Jungkook’s gaze softens as he studies you, his dark eyes tracing the contours of your face. You still look the same... still breathtaking, still the person he fell hopelessly in love with. But there’s something different too, a guardedness that wasn’t there before, a distance he doesn’t know how to bridge.

“How… how have you been? It’s been a while.” he says softly, his voice laced with hesitation as he takes a tentative step closer.

“I’m fine.” The words come quickly, too quickly, as if you’re desperate to end this conversation before it can even begin. You don’t meet his gaze for long, your eyes flicking away like you’re afraid of what he might see.

Every second in his presence feels like an eternity, the weight of the emotions swirling between you both, suffocating. You can’t do this. Not now, not like this. The effort of keeping your face neutral, of pretending you don’t feel the same pull towards him that you always have... it’s too much.

Without another word, you move to step past him, your focus solely on the hallway ahead. But before you can escape, his hand reaches out, catching your wrist. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt through you, halting you in your tracks.

“Wait.” he says, his voice quiet but firm. There’s a vulnerability in his tone that makes your chest tighten, and for a moment, you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

You take a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his hand wrapped gently around your wrist. It’s almost unbearable... how much harder this is than you’d expected. Having him so close, right there behind you, stirs emotions you’ve fought tirelessly to suppress.

Slowly, you turn over your shoulder, finally meeting his eyes. The intensity in them is overwhelming, a deep sea of emotions you can’t bring yourself to name. They hold so much... questions, pain, longing and you feel a lump rise in your throat as you let out a shaky breath.

“Let me go, Jungkook.” you say quietly, your voice steadier than you feel. You try to tug your wrist free, but his grip tightens ever so slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to keep you rooted in place.

“I didn’t expect to see you here…” he says softly, his voice low and filled with something you can’t quite place. He’s ignoring your plea, but there’s no malice in it, only hesitation, like he doesn’t want to let go just yet. “I’m volunteering.” you reply flatly, forcing the words out without a hint of emotion. “And I need to go.” you add, your tone clipped as you yank your wrist out of his hold.

This time, he lets you go, his hand falling to his side as he watches you stride away from him as fast as you can manage. You don’t dare look back, even as you feel his gaze linger on you, burning into your retreating figure. Your heart pounds with each step, your emotions bubbling dangerously close to the surface, but you don’t stop. You can’t.

You barge into the restroom, letting the door shut heavily behind you. The cool air does nothing to soothe the storm raging inside you. Instantly, your hands fly up to cover your face, a desperate attempt to stifle the sobs threatening to escape.

Your chest heaves as you fight against the tears that burn at the edges of your eyes, your palms pressing against your cheeks as if holding yourself together. But it’s futile. The weight of seeing him again... his voice, his touch, the unspoken pain in his eyes, comes crashing down on you all at once.

A strangled breath escapes your lips, and you lean against the sink for support. Your fingers grip the edge of the cold porcelain as if it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, your blurred vision making it hard to focus.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be.” you whisper to yourself, your voice breaking. Your tears fall freely now, streaking down your cheeks as the emotions you’ve bottled up for months finally spill over. The ache of his presence, the agony of your unresolved feelings... it’s all too much.

You press a trembling hand against your chest, trying to steady the harsh pounding of your heart. For a moment, you close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you attempt to compose yourself. But the pain lingers, sharp and unrelenting.

The workshop winds down, the chatter of children and clinking of utensils slowly fading into the background. You’ve spent the entire afternoon and evening carefully maneuvering to avoid Jungkook’s gaze, your heart in a constant state of unease.

Every glance he threw your way, every fleeting moment you felt his presence nearby, only made the weight in your chest heavier.

By the time the clock strikes 8, exhaustion has seeped into your bones, not just from the work but also from the emotional toll of the day. Mrs. Lee thanks you warmly as you help her finish setting up dinner. Namjoon remains by your side, quiet but supportive, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos of your thoughts.

“You did great today.” he murmurs softly as you both step out of the main hall, his tone gentle. You offer him a faint smile, appreciating his effort to lighten your mood, but the turmoil inside you is too heavy to shake off completely.

Finally, you decide it’s time to leave. Walking down the stairs by the entrance, you feel the cool evening breeze brush against your cheeks. You glance up at the darkening sky, the stars peeking through faintly, their distant glow a stark contrast to the storm swirling within you.

Pulling your coat tighter around you, you fix your bag on your shoulder and bury your hands in your pockets. The thought of going home to the solace of your quiet living room, sappy rom-coms, and a tub of ice cream feels like the only reprieve you’ll get tonight.

As you reach the bus stop, you take a seat on the cold bench, staring at the empty road ahead. The world around you feels quiet and still, yet your mind is an undying chaos. Your thoughts drift back to Jungkook... his voice, his touch, the way his eyes silently pleaded with you earlier and just how much you miss him.

You sigh heavily, resting your elbows on your knees and burying your face in your hands. The ache of seeing him again lingers like a ghost, refusing to leave you be.

As you attempt to gather your thoughts, the soft hum of an approaching engine disrupts your reverie. Your head lifts instinctively, and before you can process it, a sleek car pulls to a stop right in front of you. The headlights cast a gentle glow on the empty road, but it’s the sight of the driver that makes your breath hitch.

Your lips part in surprise, your brows furrowing as the window rolls down. There he is, his dark eyes fixed on you.

“Y/n.” Jungkook calls softly, his voice carrying over the quiet evening. You sigh, a mix of frustration and weariness bubbling within you. Without a word, you stand, shifting your gaze to the left, hoping to catch sight of the bus that feels agonizingly far from arriving.

“Y/n, it’s late. Let me drop you home.” Jungkook says, his tone gentle but insistent. Your heart stumbles at the offer, the thought of being alone with him sending your nerves into overdrive. You don’t trust yourself... not with how raw and exposed you feel after today. So, you do what you’ve been doing all afternoon. You ignore him.

Fixing your gaze on the road ahead, you refuse to acknowledge him. “Y/n, please…” His voice softens, almost breaking. You clench your jaw, the plea digging into you, forcing you to glance at him. “Just go, Jungkook.” you snap flatly, your tone colder than you intended.

Jungkook’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as your words hit him like a blow. He swallows hard, his gaze never leaving you. “I’ll just drop you home. Please, it’s not safe this late.” he persists, his determination unwavering.

You shake your head, muttering under your breath as you start walking down the pavement, each step heavier than the last. But Jungkook, true to his nature, doesn’t back down so easily.

The car begins to crawl forward, matching your pace as you walk. His persistence is both frustrating and heartbreaking. You can feel his gaze through the window, silently urging you to stop, to listen, to look at him.

“Y/n.” he calls out again, his voice tinged with desperation. Your chest tightens as you quicken your steps, hoping to outrun the storm of emotions brewing within you. But no matter how far you walk, Jungkook is right there, his car trailing you like a shadow, refusing to let you go.

The sound of the car suddenly stopping and the door opening breaks through the rhythm of your footsteps, and you stiffen. You don’t turn around, determined to maintain your resolve, but then you feel it... a firm yet gentle hand gripping your arm, spinning you around effortlessly.

Your eyes widen as you find yourself face-to-face with Jungkook, the intensity in his gaze pinning you in place. His breath is uneven, as if he’s been chasing you, though he hasn’t. “Please.” he says, his voice raw and pleading. “Just let me drop you home. That’s literally all I’m asking.”

His words hang heavy between you, and for a moment, you close your eyes, exhaling sharply. His persistence is unrelenting, and deep down, you know your bus isn’t arriving anytime soon to save you from this situation.

You pull your arm free from his grasp, the warmth of his touch lingering even as you step back. Without meeting his gaze, you walk towards his car, your resolve cracking under the weight of exhaustion and inevitability.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you settle into the cold leather with a resigned sigh, the door closing behind you with a soft thud. He'll just drop me home, you convince yourself as you don’t look at him, keeping your gaze fixed ahead.

Jungkook quietly gets back into the driver’s seat, his movements careful as if afraid to shatter the fragile silence that now envelops the two of you. The hum of the engine rises again, but neither of you say anything, the tension stretching thin as the car begins to move.

As Jungkook drives, the rhythmic sound of the tires on the road fills the car, but the silence between you feels louder, heavier. Your gaze remains fixed outside the window, the passing streetlights casting fleeting glows across your face. Your hands clutch your purse tightly on your lap, a silent anchor to steady your racing emotions.

The stillness is suddenly broken by his voice, soft but heavy with restraint. “So… how have you been?” he asks, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

You don't answer. You don’t move. You don’t flinch. Your determination to stay silent grows stronger as you think about the consequences of letting him back into your life. The jagged edges of your reality press against you like shards of glass.

“Y/n…” he calls out again, his voice gentler this time, but still, you keep your gaze fixed outside, ignoring the crackling tension in the air.

He exhales audibly, the pain in his voice more evident now. “Y/n, I haven’t seen you in four months... and now you’re here, but you’re acting like I don’t even exist.” His words tremble, and you feel the sharp sting of guilt twisting in your chest.

“You’re right here.” he murmurs, almost to himself. “But why do you feel so far away?”

Your lips tighten into a thin line, and your grip on your purse grows tighter. You can feel his eyes on you, searching, pleading, but you refuse to meet his gaze. “Are you really not going to talk to me… at all?” he asks, his voice breaking slightly at the end.

Jungkook glances at your side profile, his knuckles white against the steering wheel as he fights to hold himself together. The hurt in his chest feels unbearable, a weight pressing harder with every second of your silence.

He’s done his best to come to terms with your absence, with the breakup, even when the harsh reasons you gave felt like flimsy walls hiding something bigger. But now, sitting this close to you and being treated like a stranger, it cuts deeper than he expected.

“You know what…” Jungkook suddenly mutters under his breath, and though you hear the shift in his tone, you don’t move, don’t react. But then the car swerves abruptly, jerking to the left. Your head snaps towards him, eyes wide with shock as you clutch the handlebar above your seat.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim, your heart hammering as you notice the road signs signaling that he’s no longer heading towards your neighborhood.

“I can’t do this anymore.” he says, his voice firm but tinged with exhaustion. His grip on the steering wheel tightens and his foot presses harder on the gas pedal, the car speeding up.

“Jungkook, what are you doing?? Slow down !!” you demand, trying to mask the panic creeping into your voice. “We need to talk.” he states simply, his eyes focused on the road ahead as if there’s nothing else in the world but his determination.

Your breath catches in your throat, and your mind races. “Jungkook, turn the car around.” you say firmly, though your voice wavers slightly.

But he doesn’t listen. Instead, his jaw tightens, and the speed of the car increases further, the scenery outside blurring. Then it hits you... he’s heading in the direction towards his place.

“Jungkook…” you begin, your voice softer now, a mixture of anger and disbelief.

He doesn’t answer this time, his silence carrying more weight than words ever could. His gaze remains locked forward, the muscles in his jaw ticking as if he’s trying to rein in the storm brewing within him.

You glance outside, feeling both trapped and helpless. Every instinct in you screams to argue, to demand that he stops, but a part of you... a small, stubborn part wonders what he’s so desperate to say.

After 10 tense minutes of silence, the car finally comes to a halt in front of Jungkook's building. He doesn’t waste a second, stepping out of the car and slamming the door behind him. You watch him from the corner of your eye, your hands still gripping the purse on your lap, as he strides purposefully to your side of the car.

Before you can even process what’s happening, he pulls the door open, and the chill of the night air sweeps over you, making you shiver. He leans down slightly, his dark eyes locking with yours, filled with an unrelenting determination that sends your heart racing.

“Come with me.” he says, his voice steady but soft as he extends a hand towards you. You stare at his hand, conflicted, the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest. You feel cornered, unable to escape this situation he’s forced you into.

“Jungkook…” you begin, but the words catch in your throat. He sighs, his shoulders sagging slightly, as if the plea in your voice strikes a chord in him. But before you can say anything else, he gently grabs your wrist. The touch is soft, hesitant, but there’s an urgency to his movements as he guides you out of the car.

You stumble slightly, your body still resistant, but he steadies you with a firm yet careful grip. He’s desperate, you can see it in the way his brows furrow, the way his lips press into a thin line as if he’s barely holding himself together. “Jungkook, I...” you breathe out, the words getting stuck in your throat.

“Just… please.” he interrupts, his voice raw with emotion. “I just wanna talk.... Please.”

His eyes search yours, and you can feel the ache in them, the unspoken pain he’s been carrying. Your chest tightens, and for a moment, you’re frozen, unable to say no, unable to pull away. He doesn’t give you a chance to argue further, his hand slipping from your wrist to your hand, his fingers curling around yours as he gently but firmly leads you towards his house.

You let out a shaky breath, the weight of the moment heavy in the air as you reluctantly follow him.

As Jungkook shuts the door to his apartment, the click echoes in the silence. He turns to face you, his eyes soft but piercing, like he’s searching for something he’s desperate to find.

“Y/n.” he says, your name rolling off his tongue like a plea.

You try to avoid his gaze, looking anywhere but at him, but then his hands come up to cup your face, his warmth grounding you in a way that sends a pang through your chest. His touch is gentle, yet insistent, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“Y/n, please.” he murmurs, his voice trembling. “Just talk to me.”

Your breath hitches, and you instinctively step back, only to feel the cool, unyielding wall against your back. You’re cornered... literally and emotionally... and the weight of the moment bears down on you.

Your emotions, so carefully locked away, begin to bubble to the surface. Anger, regret, frustration, they all swirl together, threatening to consume you. Gritting your teeth, you grab his wrists and pull his hands away from your face.

“Just leave me alone.” you choke out, your voice breaking. The tears that have been fighting to escape finally spill over, cascading down your cheeks. Before you know it, you’re sobbing uncontrollably, your body trembling as the dam holding back your emotions shatters.

Jungkook’s eyes widen in shock as he watches you unravel before him. His heart clenches painfully at the sight of your tears, the sound of your sobs cutting through him like a knife. He steps closer instinctively, his hands hovering uncertainly as if unsure whether to comfort you or give you space.

“Y/n…” he begins, his voice soft and hesitant, but you shake your head violently, interrupting him.

“You can’t do this, Jungkook.” you cry out, your voice trembling with frustration. “After everything I did to cut you off… you can’t just... just pull me back like this.”

Your words hit him like a blow, and he takes a shaky step back, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Do you think this is easy for me?” he finally says, his voice breaking. “I didn’t want to pull you back, Y/n. But how am I supposed to let you go when I don’t even understand why you left?”

His words hang in the air, and you stare at him through your blurry vision, your heart pounding as his pain intertwines with yours. You’re both standing on the edge of a precipice, the weight of your shared history threatening to pull you under.

The air between you feels heavy, thick with emotions neither of you can control anymore. Jungkook’s gaze locks onto your tear-streaked face, his breathing shallow as he watches the pain and turmoil in your eyes. Something inside him snaps, and before he can stop himself, he takes a step forward, closing the distance between you.

His hands cradle your face, trembling slightly, as he leans in and harshly presses his lips against yours. It’s desperate, unrestrained, and raw. The suddenness of it makes you gasp, your breath hitching as his lips move against yours, pouring every unspoken word, every unanswered question into the kiss.

Your eyes flutter shut, and for a moment, your mind is overwhelmed by the flood of memories... his laugh, his touch, the way he used to make you feel like you were the only person that mattered. But as much as the kiss ignites a fire inside you, your tears don’t stop.

Jungkook feels the wetness of your tears against his palms, and it pulls him back abruptly. He steps away, his face etched with regret and panic, as if realizing he may have crossed a line he shouldn’t have.

“I... I’m sorry.” he stammers, his voice shaking as he searches your face. “I shouldn’t have—”

Before he can finish, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him back towards you, your lips colliding with his in a kiss that’s equally urgent and desperate. Your hands clutch onto him like he’s the only thing anchoring you to reality, and this time, the weight of all the emotions you’ve been holding back crashes into him.

Your kiss is messy, tinged with anger, longing, and sorrow, but it’s real. It’s the connection you’ve been denying for so long. Jungkook responds immediately, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer as if afraid you’ll slip away again.

The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in this moment, grappling with the emotions you’ve tried so hard to suppress.

Your lips never part, not even for a second, as you start pulling each other’s clothes off, letting them fall to the ground one after the other. Every single article of clothing gets discarded in a trail leading from his door step to his living room.

The heat between you intensifies, growing hotter and wilder with every second. It’s like you’ve been starving for each other, for this moment, this connection for so long that now you can’t help but devour each other.

You know you shouldn't be doing this. You know you can't face the consequences of your impulsive actions, but your heart refuses to let go. You're completely consumed by the passion and intensity of the kiss, unable to pull yourself away even when you have so much on the line.

Even as you walk into his apartment, your lips remain connected, your hands gripping his arms, holding onto him as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you let go. The world spins around you as he picks up the pace, guiding you to the couch. Your feet brush against the soft carpet, sending shivers up your leg, and before you know it, you feel the cushion behind you.

The feeling of Jungkook on top of you is nothing less than heaven. You run your hands up and down his tattooed arm, feeling the way his muscles tense with each touch. His kisses trail down your neck, making you squirm under him.

“Fuck...” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin as he takes off your bra in a swift motion.

He groans softly, his eyes wide as they drink in the sight of you beneath him. Then his gaze falls to your collarbone, lingering on the familiar pendant resting against your skin.

"The... necklace." he notices, his fingers reaching out to brush it gently. His touch is reverent, almost hesitant, as if the small piece of jewelry holds all the words he can’t say. He looks up into your eyes, a subtle smile curving his lips.

"You... you never took it off?" he asks, his voice laced with slight disbelief.

"Never." you affirm softly, your voice steady yet tender. His eyes soften, glimmering with emotions too deep for words, and for a moment, it feels as if the necklace is the silent thread that has always held your hearts together.

“I…” his voice trails, and you can tell he’s struggling to find the right words. “I fucking missed you.” he breathes out and without giving you a chance to respond, he leans down and presses his lips to your chest.

You let out a moan as he starts sucking on the skin between your breasts, and your hips squirm beneath him. “Kook…” you gasp as his mouth closes around one of your nipples, making you arch your back. He bites down gently, and you can't help but cry out in pleasure.

You can feel his body shaking on top of you, the desperation to get closer to you is so so evident. His hand slides up your leg and rests at your waist before slipping under your back, lifting your hips to meet his. The kiss that follows is sweet and gentle, like he’s trying to apologize for everything that’s happened between you, even when it's not his fault.

Your hands move to his hair, twisting into the dark strands as you pull him even closer. You can’t stop yourself, you can’t resist him anymore. The feeling, the warmth, the electricity, it’s too hard to fight. Your body is craving his, and he’s giving you all the affection you’ve been craving for these past four dreadful months.

His lips trail down your body, stopping at the spot between your legs as he slides your underwear down your legs. You gasp as you watch him dip his head, the warmth of his tongue circling your clit. Your hands grip the couch, and your body arches in reaction to the pleasure he’s sending through your body.

“Fuck.” you gasp, barely able to string the words together as he presses his face between your legs. Jungkook moans, his tongue licking around your clit in firm, steady strokes. Your hands move from the couch to his shoulders, pushing him further between your legs.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with hunger and desire, his chin wet from your arousal, as he grips your hips and pulls you closer. He buries his tongue as deep as it can go, causing your body to jerk in reaction.

You cry out his name, your voice hoarse as your hands grip his hair. Jungkook feels himself get harder as he flattens his tongue, applying pressure to your clit. “Fuck… please... please Kook... don’t stop.” you beg as he licks you faster, your hips rocking against his face.

Your moans echo through the empty apartment as Jungkook works you closer and closer to release. When he stops sucking your clit and presses his tongue deep inside of you instead, you lose it, your orgasm washing over you in waves.

You can’t do anything but lay there and take it, your legs shaking and twitching around his face as your body convulses with pleasure.

He kisses his way up your body, licking the sweat from your skin before he finally reaches your lips. The taste of your arousal on his lips sends heat through you, and you moan as his tongue enters your mouth.

Your tears are back, running down your cheeks as you try to process the moment. Jungkook pulls away from your lips and places his forehead against yours. His thumb softly wipes your tears away, as he tries to process this surreal moment himself.

“Fuck...” he whispers as he slowly rubs his length against your core, sending sparks through your body. You feel the warmth of his skin against yours... your bodies pressed together in a way you can't comprehend.

“I... I need you baby....” Jungkook murmurs against your lips, his length rubbing against you. You breathe heavily as you nod, wanting him to just take you right here, right now.

With one swift motion, he pushes himself inside you, filling you completely. Your lips part as you take in the feeling of being stretched out by him.

Jungkook stills for a moment, taking in the feeling of finally being back inside of you. He thought he’d never have you like this again, that he’d lost you forever, but here he is, buried deep inside your warmth. His eyes stare into yours, watching your chest heave up and down as you try to adjust to the feeling you had so deeply missed.

You stare into him, sniffling as your tears refuse to stop flowing. “I love you...” you hear him say as he leans forward again, capturing your wet lips in an urgent kiss.

As the kiss grows intense, he starts moving his hips, thrusting in and out of you in a slow and steady pace. Your hands grip his arms, digging your nails into his skin as you arch your back. Jungkook kisses you harder, his moans filling the air around you.

His movements are filled with need and longing, like he’s afraid this is the last time he’ll get to make love to you. He wants to take in every moan, every thrust, every gasp he gets from you.

You’re lost in the sensation, consumed by the pleasure Jungkook is giving you as his body moves over and into you. He holds you down, his weight pinning you to the couch as he makes love to you in his living room. You feel his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts deeper inside you.

Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer as you gasp for air but his hands grip your legs, moving them up his body as he lifts your ankles to rest on his shoulders. The change of position causes him to slide deeper inside you, and you gasp as he hits a familiar spot inside and all you can see is stars.

“Oh god....” you moan as he starts increasing his pace. Your lips part as the sensation washes over you. Jungkook leans down, pressing his lips to yours as he fucks you with reckless abandon. He’s chasing his own release, but he wants you to come with him.

He thrusts into you over and over again, his hands gripping your waist as he holds himself up. Your hands are on his ass, pushing him closer, begging for more as he groans into your mouth.

Your moans fill the air as you feel your body build towards a second release. Jungkook feels it too, his pace picking up as he drives you over the edge once more. “I’m...I'm coming...” you cry, your nails digging into his skin.

Jungkook groans in response, his thrusts becoming wild and desperate. He fucks you like he can’t get enough, like he’ll never get to have you again.

You moan into his mouth as your orgasm washes over you once more. Your body convulses under him, and you can’t do anything but let it take you over. Jungkook grunts, his body shaking above you as he chases his own release.

“Fuck baby...” he groans as he fills you up and collapses on top of you his body shuddering and his hips thrusting into you a few more times, stretching out his orgasm as much as he can. Your arms wrap around him, holding him close as you take in the warmth of his body against yours.

Jungkook presses a tender kiss to your shoulder, the gesture carrying a weight of emotions he can’t put into words. The moment feels surreal, almost fragile, as if one wrong move could shatter it.

He never imagined he’d hold you like this again, the warmth of your presence grounding him in a reality he once thought he’d lost forever. To him, this feels like a stolen dream... achingly beautiful, yet tinged with the fear that it might slip away.

He slowly rolls off you, settling beside you against the soft cushions of the couch. His arms wrap around you instinctively, holding you close as his eyes trace the lines of your face.

The exhaustion etched into your features tugs at his heart. His gaze drifts downward, gazing at the necklace around your neck. You didn't take it off and... that must mean something right? As he continues taking in the sight of you, he feels an overwhelming ache rise within him... he had missed you more than words could ever convey.

A thousand questions crowd his mind. He wants to speak, to ask, to understand, to unravel everything that had been left unsaid and find a way back to what you guys once were. But then he notices the way your eyelids flutter, heavy with weariness, and the soft, unsteady rhythm of your breaths as you try to calm yourself.

He swallows the urge to press for answers, deciding that for now, the questions can wait. Morning will come soon enough. Instead, he tightens his hold on you, his heart pounding in his chest as he silently wills himself to remain still. The warmth of your presence soothes him, and he closes his eyes, hoping that sleep will find him in the solace of this stolen moment.

Jungkook's eyebrows knit together in his sleep, a slight twitch running through his body as he shifts uncomfortably on the couch. His eyes flutter open, and he instinctively clutches the blanket against his chest. Blinking groggily, he glances around, the familiar sight of his apartment slowly coming into focus.

The realization that he’s on the couch sinks in, and like a tidal wave, the memory of last night crashes into him. His breath hitches, and he jolts upright, his heart pounding in his chest. Panic bubbles beneath the surface as he glances at the empty space behind him.

He looks down at the blanket draped over his body, a puzzled frown forming as he struggles to recall when or how it got there. His eyes dart around the room, searching for any sign of you, but the stillness of his apartment feels unnervingly hollow. The silence presses down on him, heavy and suffocating.

Rising to his feet, Jungkook starts moving through the apartment, his voice shaky as he calls out your name. "Y/N??" he tries again, his tone more urgent this time. But there’s no answer.

Each step he takes only amplifies the sinking feeling in his chest. He checks the kitchen, the bathroom, his bedroom, even the balcony, but you’re nowhere to be found. His mind spirals, questioning if last night had been a cruel dream... a mirage conjured by his yearning.

Or had you truly been here, only to slip away quietly in the morning? The thought twists his stomach, leaving him nauseous as he leans against the wall, his hands trembling. Did he really lose you all over again?

Jungkook doesn’t waste a second. His movements are frantic, hands fumbling as he pulls on his clothes in haste, not even bothering to smooth out the wrinkles. His mind is racing, each thought more urgent than the last. He grabs his keys and bolts out the door, the sound of it slamming shut echoing through the empty hallway.

His heart pounds as he throws himself into the driver’s seat, the familiar hum of the engine roaring to life beneath him. His knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel, the tension radiating through his body. His eyes burn with exhaustion, but the ache in his chest far outweighs it.

The city is still waking up, the roads bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun. Jungkook doesn’t care. He presses harder on the accelerator, weaving through the sparse traffic with reckless determination. Every red light feels like a lifetime, every delay an unbearable agony.

He can't stop thinking about you. The way your touch felt like home, the way your lips trembled against his last night, and the way your tears spoke of everything you were too afraid to say. He can’t let that go. He won’t.

The thought of losing you again, of waking up every morning knowing you’re out there but not by his side, terrifies him. It’s a kind of pain he doesn’t think he can survive twice.

As he nears your neighborhood, his pulse quickens. He doesn’t know what he’ll say, or how you’ll react, but none of it matters. All he knows is that he needs you... more than air, more than anything.

Parking haphazardly in front of your house, he bolts towards your door, his heart hammering as he begins knocking. There’s no answer, and his anxiety only grows. He steps off your porch, wondering where you could be.

He rushes outside, reaching the pavement, desperately scanning the neighborhood, hoping to catch a glimpse of you somewhere.

He runs through the neighborhood, his heart pounding, the anxiety gnawing at him as he checks every corner, every familiar path, but you're nowhere to be seen. Yet, something inside him refuses to give up.

As he nears the park at the edge of the neighborhood, he slows down, taking a breath to steady himself. His eyes sweep over the quiet space, and in that moment, it’s as if time slows... until he sees you, sitting alone on a distant bench, your figure outlined against the soft glow of the morning light, looking smaller and more vulnerable than he’s ever seen you.

He wastes no time as he runs towards you, his footsteps growing louder as he approaches you, his figure growing more defined with every step. His heart is racing, not just from the frantic search, but from the sheer desperation to be close to you again, to make sure you’re okay.

You sit still, your eyes widening in disbelief as you realize he’s found you. A rush of emotions flood through you... surprise, guilt, and a wave of regret. You can't help but wonder how he managed to find you here.

You glance down, unable to meet his gaze as the memories of last night resurface. The vulnerability of the moment hits you hard. You had fled his apartment at dawn, unable to face him after everything. The way he had held you, the way everything felt so perfect in the heat of the moment... it scared you.

You knew you had no answers to his questions, no way to explain the reasons behind your past actions. And the truth? That was something you couldn’t give him, not now, not when you have so much to lose. The only thing left for you to do was leave him behind and slip away like a coward, hoping he wouldn’t follow.

But here he is, standing before you, his presence too much to ignore. You don't know whether to run again or finally face him.

Jungkook’s eyes are full of pain as he steps closer to you, his voice shaking with a mix of frustration and hurt. “You left.” he breathes out, as if the weight of his words is too much to bear.

“Why... why did you leave?” His voice cracks at the end, vulnerability spilling through in a way he can’t control.

You try to look away, but his gaze pulls you in. The truth, too raw and too close to the surface, is something you can’t escape. You can feel the crack in your heart widen with every passing second. "Jungkook... we're broken up." you whisper, barely meeting his eyes.

"No." he denies, the sharpness in his breath betraying the desperation in his chest. "Don't say that, especially after last night." His voice is pleading now, fragile, cracking in a way that shakes him to the core. His fists clench at his sides with the effort to keep himself together.

"How can you say that after everything? After what happened between us? How... can you just walk away like that? How can you pretend like... none of it mattered?"

He takes a step closer, his eyes burning with a need to understand, to hold on to the fragments of what he thought was still there. "The past four months... it’s been hell, Y/n. I’ve been drowning in this silence, wondering every day what went wrong. I never got an answer. You just... left. Without a word, without a valid reason. And I hate it. I hate that I don’t know why. I hate that you just cut me off like I meant nothing. Like everything we had... it was all just a lie."

You look at him, the tears unknowingly streaming down your face. "Kook..." you start, but he cuts you off. "I tried to let go... I tried to make peace with it... but... but it hurts, Y/n. It hurts more than I can put into words, and I don’t even know what I did wrong." he pauses, trying to calm himself down.

"I don’t know what happened between us. Why did... why did you leave me? Why did you make me feel like I was nothing to you?" His voice cracks, the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over. You stare at him, the lump in your throat intensifying. "You... you were everything to me. I thought we had a future together, Y/n. But now, I’m just... I'm just so lost.... I'm so lost without you."

Jungkook steps back for a moment, his hands running through his hair in frustration as he tries to make sense of it all. His breath is shallow, a quiet sob escaping him as he collects himself. "I need to know..." he mutters, barely audible. "Why? What... what happened? Please, just tell me."

He takes another shaky breath, the weight of his emotions almost unbearable. "Don’t tell me... you stopped loving me." he pleads, his voice raw and desperate. "I know that’s not true. I know you would never be so harsh to me." His words are laced with disbelief, as if he’s clinging to any shred of hope that there’s something he’s missing, something he can grasp, something that makes sense.

“I can feel it, Y/n.” he continues softly, eyes never leaving yours, searching your face as if it holds the answers. “I know you love me. You can’t just... stop. Not after everything we went through. Not after what we had.” He steps closer again, his heart aching at the thought of losing you. “So don’t tell me that’s it. Don’t tell me you just decided it was over.”

"I never stopped loving you." you whisper, your voice barely audible as hot tears continue to roll down your cheeks. The weight of your words feels like an anchor in your chest, heavy and suffocating. You feel weak, defeated... like there’s no hope left.

The sight of him standing there, shivering in pain, breaks you in ways you didn’t think were possible. His pain, the hurt you’ve caused, fills you with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

Your heart aches as you watch the way his eyes fill with confusion and desperation, his hands trembling as he reaches out to you, as if just a touch could make everything okay. But you know, deep down, that nothing can probably fix this.

"I'm sorry." you whisper, barely able to get the words out. "I'm so sorry, Jungkook. I never wanted to hurt you." The tears flow freely now, staining your cheeks as you try to find the strength to speak, to explain, but the words feel stuck, trapped inside you.

As you break down, Jungkook takes a seat beside you as he hesitantly wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. You bury your face in his chest, the tears coming in waves, uncontrollable, as the weight of everything you've been holding in comes rushing to the surface.

His hands gently stroke your back, soothing you in a way that makes everything feel just a little more bearable. Every sob that wracks your body seems to break his heart a little more, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he tightens his grip on you, as if reminding both of you that, for now, you’re not alone.

Jungkook feels his own tears begin to spill as he pulls you even closer, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. His fingers tremble as they weave through your hair, trying to hold you as tightly as possible, as if he could absorb some of your sorrow.

The weight of the silence between you both is suffocating, but his mind races, desperately trying to understand why you’re in so much pain, why you had to leave him, why you feel so broken.

"Y/n..." His voice cracks, raw with emotion as he speaks your name. His chest tightens with the fear that maybe he’s never truly known the full story, that maybe everything he thought he understood was just an illusion.

His tears fall freely now, as he presses his forehead against yours, his breath shaky. "Please, just tell me. What happened?" His words are barely above a whisper, but they hold a desperate plea. "Why are you like this? What... what am I missing?"

His hands move to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that continue to fall. He’s not sure if he’s crying for the both of you or if he’s just so lost in your pain that it feels like it’s his own. "I can’t lose you again, Y/n. I need to know... why we are the way we are right now. Please, just tell me. I can’t fix it if I don’t understand."

His grip on you tightens, the urgency in his voice rising as he gazes into your eyes, searching for some kind of answer, anything that will explain the devastation he’s feeling. His love for you is still so strong, so unyielding, but the fear of losing you completely is almost too much to bear.

Just as you're about to speak, your phone starts ringing, its shrill tone cutting through the heavy silence. You hesitate for a moment, unsure whether to pick it up, especially given the fragile state you're in right now. But the phone keeps ringing, insistent, and you feel a knot tighten in your stomach.

With a sniffle, you pull away from Jungkook, trying to compose yourself as you reach for your phone. "Just a minute..." you whisper, wiping away the last of your tears as you glance at the caller ID.

It's the hospital. Your heart skips a beat at the sight, and before you can think twice, you answer, trying to steady your voice. "Hello?"

"Am I speaking to Ms. Choi?" the voice on the other end asks. Your breath catches in your throat, and without a second thought, you stand up, your heart rate increasing with every passing second. "Yes, this is she." you reply, trying to keep your composure, but the panic is starting to rise in your chest.

Jungkook watches you intently, noticing the change in your expression as you stand up. His concern deepens as he observes the tension in your body. Who could be calling you at this hour? You grip the phone tighter as the voice on the other end continues speaking, but then you gasp, your breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.

He watches in horror as you suddenly collapse, your knees buckling beneath you. It's like all the strength has left your body. His instincts kick in immediately, and he's by your side in an instant, crouching down and reaching out for you.

His hands land gently on your shoulders as he pulls you towards him, trying to steady you. The phone slips from your grasp, clattering to the ground, but you don’t seem to notice. Your eyes are wide, unblinking, and you stare ahead, lost in whatever news you've just received.

"Y/n... what happened? Are you okay?" Jungkook's voice is laced with worry, his hand moving to your cheek to check for any sign of awareness. You blink a few times, as if snapping back into reality, but it’s still hard to focus. Your lips tremble as you finally meet his eyes, and you whisper his name. "Jungkook..."

His heart races as he holds you tighter, desperate for you to continue. He nods, prompting you to keep talking. "Jungkook... Beomgyu... he... he woke up." you say.

"What...?" Jungkook asks, his voice laced with disbelief. His wide eyes search your face for confirmation, and when he sees the glimmer of truth in your tear-streaked expression, his features soften into a smile. "Y/n... that's... that's great news. That's... amazing news, baby." His voice wavers, a mix of relief and joy, and his smile grows wider.

You nod quickly, the reality of it hitting you all over again as fresh tears stream down your cheeks. "He's awake, Jungkook... he's really awake." you whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of happiness and overwhelming emotion.

You pause, glancing around as you try to calm yourself down. "I need to go see him. I... I need to get to the... the hospital." you say hurriedly, the urgency in your tone impossible to miss.

Jungkook catches your arm gently but firmly, grounding you for a moment. "Hey, hey." he says softly, looking into your eyes with a steady calmness. "I'll take you there, yeah? My car’s parked right outside your house, so let’s go. Come on." he softly says as he helps you up.

You barge through the hospital doors, your steps quick and frantic, your heart racing as you navigate through the lobby. Jungkook follows close behind, his presence a comforting weight amidst the chaos swirling in your mind.

You reach the elevator and jab the button repeatedly, as though it might make the lift arrive faster. The ride up feels like an eternity, and yet, when the doors slide open, you're already bolting down the hallway towards Beomgyu's room.

Finally, you stand outside the door, your hand frozen on the handle. You take a shaky breath, trying to collect yourself, your chest rising and falling with the weight of four long years of waiting. Four years of imagining this moment, of rehearsing what you’d say, how you’d feel... but now, standing here, all those thoughts dissolve into a haze of indescribable emotion.

Jungkook steps beside you, his voice soft and steady as he whispers. "He's waiting for you, baby." His words calm you, giving you the courage you need to face what’s on the other side of the door. You glance at him, his warm eyes filled with reassurance, and you nod, summoning the strength to push forward. With trembling hands, you carefully push the door open and step inside.

There he is. Beomgyu. Sitting up in bed, his back resting against the headboard, alive and awake. The sight is almost surreal, a moment that feels too precious to be real.

He looks at you with a lopsided grin, his expression as cheeky and familiar as ever. "Long time no see, Your Highness." he quips, his tone lighthearted and playful, as if the last four years hadn't just been wiped away by a miracle.

Your breath catches, a soft laugh escaping you as tears well up in your eyes again. "Beomgyu..." you whisper, your voice breaking. The weight of the years, the pain, the hope... all of it rushes to the surface as you step closer, overwhelmed by the reality of seeing him awake.

You rush to his side, tears streaming freely down your cheeks as you throw your arms around him in a tight embrace. The warmth of his body against yours is enough to break down every last wall you'd built over the years.

You remember all the times you'd playfully swatted him away, rolled your eyes, or made a face every time he tried to hug you because back then, you liked to act like showing affection to your sibling was embarrassing.

But right now, there’s no hesitation, no second thought. Right now, you’ve never felt more alive.

“I missed you.” you sob, your voice muffled against his shoulder as you clutch him like you’re afraid he might slip away again. The tears come harder as the realization sinks in that this moment is real. He’s real. The long, agonizing wait is finally over.

Beomgyu chuckles softly, his voice steady yet laced with emotion. "Wow, I must really be a sight for sore eyes if you’re this clingy." he teases, though his arms wrap tightly around you, holding you just as fiercely. His familiar, playful tone only makes you cry harder.

"You idiot." you choke out, your voice trembling as you pull back just enough to look at him. Your hands cup his face, your thumbs brushing away the tears that now spill from his eyes too. "Don’t you dare scare me like that ever again. Do you hear me? Never again."

His grin softens, and he nods, his own tears mirroring yours. "I promise." he whispers, his voice quieter, more solemn now. "Never again."

Jungkook lingers near the doorway, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches the reunion unfold. The raw emotion in your embrace, the way you cling to Beomgyu like he might vanish if you let go... it stirs something deep within him.

He knows how long you've waited for this moment, how often you spoke of it with a mixture of hope and pain. Seeing you finally experience it makes his heart swell with happiness for you.

But then, Jungkook freezes as Beomgyu's gaze shifts towards him. His eyes widen slightly, realizing that this is the first time Beomgyu is seeing him.

“Who’s... that?” Beomgyu asks, his voice curious but steady. His brows furrow slightly as he nods towards Jungkook. You turn to follow Beomgyu’s gaze, and when your eyes meet Jungkook’s, you can’t help but smile.

“That’s Jungkook.” you say softly, glancing back at your brother before looking at Jungkook again. There’s something tender in the way you say his name, something that makes Jungkook’s smile widen as he nods politely at Beomgyu.

Before anything else can be said, the doctor appears and Jungkook steps aside letting him in. “Ms. Choi.” the doctor greets with a warm smile. “Congratulations. It’s wonderful to see Beomgyu awake and responsive. However, we’ll need to run a few tests now, just to check his overall condition.”

You nod understandingly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek as you stand. “Of course... thank you, doctor.” you say, turning back to Beomgyu. You lean down to place a soft kiss on his forehead, your smile filled with a quiet reassurance. “I’ll be right outside, okay?”

Beomgyu nods, his grin still cheeky. “Don’t disappear. I need you to explain who that guy is and why he was looking at you with literal heart eyes.” he teases, his playful tone making you chuckle as you shake your head.

You glance at Jungkook, who’s scratching the back of his neck, looking a little flustered. “Behave.” you tell Beomgyu with a laugh before stepping outside with Jungkook, leaving your brother in the capable hands of the doctor.

As you settle into the metal chair right outside Beomgyu's room, beside Jungkook, the cold steel pressing against your back is a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand as it gently rests on your knee. His fingers squeeze lightly, offering some silent comfort.

You glance down at the way his hand fits so naturally on you and let out a small, tired smile. Placing your hand over his, your thumb begins to trace slow circles over his knuckles, grounding yourself in the quiet rhythm of the motion.

Your voice breaks the silence, soft but weighted. "Junghyun... he came to see me."

Jungkook’s brows knit together in confusion. “Junghyun? My brother?” he repeats, his tone disbelieving as he tries to process your words. You nod, your gaze shifting to the sterile white tiles of the hospital floor.

“Four months ago... he came to the kindergarten.” you admit, your voice faltering slightly. You exhale deeply, trying to steady yourself before diving into the painful memory.

The words spill out in fragments, raw and hesitant, as you recount the confrontation with Junghyun. You describe the way he appeared out of nowhere, his presence overbearing, his threats sharp and deliberate. You tell Jungkook how he used your brother's condition against you, twisting it into a weapon, leaving you cornered and helpless.

By the time you finish, the tension in Jungkook’s body is palpable. His jaw is clenched tight, and his fists curl against his knees. His breath is sharp as he mutters through gritted teeth, “That motherfucker…”

His reaction makes your chest tighten, a mixture of relief and guilt washing over you. He’s angry... angrier than you’ve ever seen him but you know it’s not directed at you. It’s the thought of his brother’s cruel manipulation, the pain you endured in silence, that has his blood boiling.

"I'll be right back." Jungkook says firmly, already standing up and walking away with purpose. Panic rises in your chest as you quickly catch up to him, already guessing where he’s headed. "Jungkook, no... wait, stop." you plead, reaching out to grab his arm.

He stops abruptly, turning to face you and holding your shoulders gently but firmly. His dark eyes lock onto yours, filled with resolve. "Y/n, just trust me." he says, his voice steady yet reassuring. "He won’t be able to do anything. I’ll make sure... I’ll make sure you and Beomgyu are safe. I promise."

You open your mouth to protest, but he shakes his head, cutting you off before the words can escape. "I need to put him in his place." he breathes out, his jaw tightening. "He needs to know he can’t talk to you like that. He needs to understand what you mean to me." His voice softens slightly, the tenderness in his gaze making your heart ache.

"Just stay here with Beomgyu." he continues, his tone resolute. "I’ll be back soon. I promise."

Before you can stop him, he steps closer, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead, his touch lingering like a silent vow. Then, without another word, he turns on his heels and strides down the hallway, his determination unwavering. You stand frozen, watching him disappear, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet of the hospital.

Jungkook barges into his brother's home office, the door slamming against the wall with a loud bang. Junghyun glances up from his computer, a bemused expression on his face. "Oh, Jungkook? Didn’t expect you to visit on a Sunday. What brings you—"

His sentence is cut off abruptly as Jungkook strides over, grabbing his collar and yanking him to his feet. Before Junghyun can even process what’s happening, a powerful punch lands squarely on his cheek. He stumbles back, clutching his face in shock, but Jungkook doesn’t let him regain his footing.

With a growl of anger, Jungkook throws another punch, the impact snapping Junghyun’s head to the side. The metallic tang of blood fills the air as a crimson streak trickles from Junghyun's split lip.

"Jungkook!" Junghyun finally manages to shout, his voice laced with both pain and disbelief. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately, his chest heaving as he towers over his brother. His fists clench and unclench, the anger rolling off him in waves. "That’s for threatening Y/n." he snarls, his voice dangerously low. "You think you can mess with her? Intimidate her like that? Not while I’m here."

Junghyun glares at him, wiping the blood from his lip, his shock slowly giving way to a cold smirk. "So, this is about her?" he mutters, his tone mocking despite his obvious discomfort. "You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment, Jungkook. How pathetic."

But Jungkook doesn’t flinch. Instead, he grabs Junghyun by the collar again, pulling him close. "Listen to me." he says through gritted teeth. "Stay away from her. If you ever even think about going near her or Beomgyu again, I swear, you’ll regret it."

Jungkook lets go of Junghyun with a forceful shove, sending him sprawling back into his chair. "All this for a girl like her? Really Jungkook?" Junghyun scoffs, his tongue poking the inside of cheek. "You have no idea what she means to me." Jungkook says lowly, glaring at his brother.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens, his fists still clenched at his sides. His voice drops to a low, dangerous tone. "You have no idea what she means to me." he says, his glare unwavering. "And you never will."

Junghyun chuckles bitterly, his face twisted in disdain, but before he can retort, Jungkook steps closer, his presence commanding. "Do you think Dad’s going to be proud when he hears what you’ve been up to?" Jungkook asks, his words sharp and deliberate.

Junghyun’s smirk falters ever so slightly. "You think he’ll be okay with you going around threatening people? Manipulating them? Using fear to get your way?" Jungkook continues, his voice rising slightly. "You’re the pathetic one, hyung."

He pauses, letting his words sink in, then laughs... a dry, humorless sound. "And you know what’s really pathetic? That you thought I wouldn’t find out. That you thought I’d just let it slide."

Junghyun’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing, but he stays silent, his confidence clearly shaken. Jungkook steps back, his glare never leaving his brother. "This is your last warning. Stay away from her. Stay away from Beomgyu. Because if you don’t..." He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "You won’t just have Dad to deal with. You’ll have me."

Without waiting for a response, Jungkook straightens up and strides out of the office, slamming the door behind him, leaving Junghyun to stew in his own discomfort and rising dread.

As you help Beomgyu inside your house, he pauses for a moment, letting his eyes wander around the familiar space. His gaze lands on the corner of the room, behind the couch, and a smirk tugs at his lips. "You still haven't gotten rid of that weird vase?" he teases, pointing at the decorative piece.

You roll your eyes, shutting the door behind you. "That's never gonna happen." you reply with a shrug, playfully glaring at him.

He shakes his head in mock disapproval before taking a seat on the couch. The cold fabric causes him to shiver slightly, but he leans back, closing his eyes. "Well... it's good to be back." he murmurs, exhaling deeply.

You stand there for a moment, watching him. Your heart feels so full it could burst. It almost seems unreal... having him here, in your home, after all this time. "Let me cook you some jjajangmyeon." you suggest, breaking the silence.

His eyes snap open, a grin spreading across his face. "Oh my god, how did you know I was craving exactly that?" he asks, his tone amused. "It's a sibling thing." you reply with a wink, heading into the kitchen.

As you start preparing the ingredients, your thoughts inevitably drift to Jungkook, especially since you haven't heard from him ever since he left you at the hospital. You can’t help but wonder how he’s handling the situation with Junghyun. The thought of it makes your stomach churn slightly, but you push the anxiety aside.

"So, where’s your little boyfriend?" Beomgyu's voice interrupts your thoughts, his teasing tone carrying from the living room. A shy smile tugs at your lips, but you don’t respond immediately. "Come on..." he continues, his footsteps drawing closer until he’s leaning casually against the kitchen counter.

"I was in a damn coma for four years, and my bitchless sister finally manages to pull someone, and I don’t even get a proper introduction?"

You snort at his choice of words. "Oh, come on, Gyu." you reply, turning to face him with a mock exasperated look. "I’ll introduce you when the time’s... right." He sighs, clearly unimpressed with your answer. "The time’s right when I say it is." he quips, but his grin betrays the affection behind the teasing.

Beomgyu arches a brow at the sudden sound of the doorbell, his smirk widening with curiosity. "Is that who I think it is?" he quips, leaning back against the counter with an air of playful arrogance.

You glance at him, wide-eyed and suddenly flustered. You smile at him briefly before you quickly make your way to the door, your heart thudding in anticipation. The moment you open it, time seems to still. There stands Jungkook, bathed in the soft glow of the porch light, his presence radiating comfort and confidence. His smile is subtle yet powerful, a silent reassurance that everything is under control.

You step outside, quietly closing the door behind you, shielding the moment from your brother's prying gaze. You fidget with your fingers as words evade you. "So...?" you finally manage, your voice trailing off.

Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he steps forward, closing the space between you. His arms encircle you in a gentle, protective embrace, his warmth instantly melting away your apprehensions. "I punched him." he says at last, his voice tinged with triumph.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you pull back just enough to search his face. "What?" you ask, your voice rising an octave in disbelief.

"I punched him." he repeats, a satisfied grin tugging at his lips. "Right in the face. You should’ve seen him... completely caught off guard. Like...there's no way he actually had the nerve to mess with my girl."

A mix of shock and amusement washes over you as you lightly smack his chest. "Jungkook! That’s not something to be proud of." you admonish, though the corners of your mouth twitch with an unwilling smile. "Violence isn’t the answer."

His smirk deepens as he tilts his head, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, but in his case, it is."

You shake your head, exhaling a laugh despite yourself. "What am I gonna do with you?" you murmur, your tone caught between exasperation and fondness.

Jungkook’s expression softens, the teasing glimmer in his eyes replaced by an intensity that makes your breath hitch. "Y/N..." he begins, his voice low and steady. "You don’t have to worry anymore. I’ll take care of everything... you, Beomgyu. You’ll both be safe. I promise."

His words hit you hard, the depth of his sincerity leaving you momentarily speechless. He steps even closer, his hands gently cupping your face as his thumbs brush against your cheeks. "I promise you, no one will ever hurt you again. Not while I’m here." he vows, his tone resolute, his gaze locking onto yours.

You nod, your chest swelling with a sense of safety you hadn’t realized you were yearning for. "Just promise me..." he continues, his voice softening. "if anything ever happens again, you’ll tell me. Right away. No hiding, no secrets."

A lump forms in your throat as you nod again, unable to find the words to express the gratitude and trust coursing through you. Jungkook smiles faintly, the tension easing from his features, and he pulls you into another embrace. His arms wrap around you like a fortress, his chin resting lightly atop your head.

"I missed you." you whisper, your voice muffled against his chest.

"I missed you too." he murmurs, his voice filled with emotion as he tightens his hold on you. "More than you know."

After a few long moments, you pull back, your eyes meeting his as the world seems to shrink down to just the two of you. His gaze flickers to your lips, and before you can even register it, he leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

The kiss is tender yet fervent, each movement brimming with unspoken emotions. You feel his love, his promise, and his unwavering devotion in the way his lips meld with yours, leaving no room for doubt that this is where you belong. The porch, the cool evening air, the distant sounds of the world... all of it fades into oblivion as you lose yourself in him.

It's as if a colossal weight has finally been lifted from your shoulders, allowing you to breathe freely for the first time in what feels like forever. In this fleeting, surreal moment, the world fades away, leaving only the steady rhythm of your heart and the warmth surrounding you.

Everything about this feels inexplicably right , the way he kisses you, the way his arms embrace you, the way his presence steadies your storm. You feel complete, as though the jagged pieces of your soul have found their perfect fit. You feel whole again.

"Umm, sooo sorry to interrupt the lovebirds." Beomgyu’s voice drawls out, cutting through the tender moment. You and Jungkook both pull apart and turn your heads sharply, only to see him mischievously peeking out of the window right beside the front door. “But, Y/n, your brother, who just got out of a coma, is really, really hungry and would love for you to finish cooking the jjajangmyeon you promised him.”

You roll your eyes, a flush creeping up your cheeks as Jungkook stifles a laugh. "And, of course..." Beomgyu continues, his grin widening. “He’d absolutely love to finally meet your boyfriend.” He emphasizes the last word, wagging his eyebrows dramatically at Jungkook, who chuckles deeply at your brother's antics.

You groan, covering your face in Jungkook’s chest as he wraps an arm protectively around you, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “Gyu, you’re unbelievable.” you mumble, your voice muffled.

Beomgyu shrugs nonchalantly. “Hey, priorities, okay? Food first, making out later.” he teases, shooting a mock salute before disappearing back into the house after shutting the window down.

Jungkook looks down at you, his smile soft and amused. “I like him.” he says with a chuckle. You pull back slightly, playfully glaring at him. “Don’t encourage him.” you warn, though the smile tugging at your lips betrays your amusement.

“Come on.” Jungkook says, planting a quick kiss on your forehead. “Let’s go… we can't have your brother starving.” he says.

You laugh, grabbing his hand as the two of you step back inside. The warmth of your house envelops you, and for the first time in forever, you feel okay.

Beomgyu’s playful voice fills the air as he grins from the couch, the sibling bond you thought you’d lost now brighter than ever. Jungkook squeezes your hand, his steady presence a reminder that the hardest days are now way behind you.

In the kitchen, surrounded by laughter and the aroma of cooking, you glance at Jungkook. His soft smile says everything words can’t, filling your heart with a quiet peace.

For the first time in months, you’re not just surviving... you’re actually living. With Beomgyu back where he belongs and Jungkook by your side, your heart feels complete, wrapped in the comforting truth that this... this is what home is meant to feel like.

—fin. ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

my masterlist <3

#jungkook fic #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #bts fic #enemies to lovers #jungkook fanfiction #exes to lovers

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yeahxsurexokay13 · 16 days ago

Text

wrong guy, lando norris

summary: fans think yn is dating max, but they've got the wrong guy [bsf!reader]

been a min since i posted! honestly, these just take me way too long and i usually end up abandoning them because i start hating them halfway through from overthinking lol. hope you enjoy this one though (: xx

y/n.y/l 📍 Ibiza, Spain

Liked by riabish, carlossainz55 and 159.870 others

y/n.y/l we only argued 3 times, cried 2, and got lost 1 (personal record)

view all 579 comments

user9 right so who argued? who cried? and most importantly whO IS THE SHADOW?

user14 can we talk about how u're LITERALLY glowing in that first pic? u look so happy, girl!!

user20 the vibes on this dump… rich people's holidays just hit different.

iamrebeccad ✓ Beautiful girl 😍

y/n.y/l 🫶🏼 miss youu!!

user4 “cried 2 times” is actually impressive ♥︎ by author

user55 lando and max just casually being brothers in the fourth pic 😩❤️

user81 that shot is just *chef’s kiss*!!!! Glad we can always count on this queen for hq content

user63 Okay so I’ve been staring at this shadow pic for like 10 minutes, and I can’t figure it out…

user33 my money’s on max bc that hug pic of them earlier too… feels very coupley.

user63 idk friends to lovers agenda thriving tho

user3 Max and Lando with the face masks are killing me 😂 ♥︎ by author

user6 max or lando? place your bets now. i’m team max but i’ll die on this hill if i'm wrong

user2 which you are, because it’s definitely Lando

user8 guys they’ve literally known each other since forever and go on these friends holidays all the time lmao this is just FRIENDSHIP GOALS. stop romanticising everything!!!

user24 then explain the head kiss?

user8 friendly head kisses???

user24 friendly kisses?? in this economy? be serious. that’s couple behaviour

user12 smells like a third wheel in here…

y/n.y/l sorry, that's just me. i am the third wheel🙋🏼‍♀️

user13 she really said 'stop shipping me with my best friends' lol

user44 max and lando with the face masks in the water might be my new favourite photo of all time

user16 ngl that's not bad statistics for a week long trip ♥︎ by author

user11 If it’s Max, I’ll cry. If it’s Lando, I’ll cry harder. If it’s neither, I don’t know what I’ll do.

user18 i’ve been following these three for years and i’m still trying to figure out if that last slide is supposed to be romantic or not….? HELP I AM SO CONFUSED

user22 what book is that? i need recommendations!!

y/n.y/l just for the summer!!! LOVED it x

user10 i can’t believe she was so chill about posting thAT LAST PIC!??!! miss y/l!!! SPILL NOW

maxfewtrell ✓ Why are you saying 'we'? Pretty sure you were the one who did all of those

landonorris ✓ classic move, shifting the blame

y/n.y/l @/landonorris @/maxfewtrell the getting lost part was definitely a team effort

user1 I need to go on a trip with friends like this ♥︎ by author

user5 being that close to lando AND max and surviving the friendship without catching feelings was too good to be true let's be honest

pietra.pilao 😍😍

y/n.y/l 💞💞

user7 so when’s the next ‘friends holiday'? asking for a friend (me)

15 August 2024

maxfewtrell ✓

Liked by landonorris, y/n.y/l and 98.982 others

maxfewtrell The real girlfriend reveal, for the record 🫡

👤 pietra.pilao

view all 398 comments

user1 WAIT WHAT

user6 so it really wasn’t Y/n??

pietra.pilao ❤️❤️ ♥︎ by author

user4 omg she's the girl who commented on yn's holiday dump!!!

user3 We owe Max and his gf an apology 😭 She’s stunning, btw

user2 omg u two are so cuteeeeeeee! happy for u max :)

user5 your gf is so pretty 😭😭😭

y/n.y/l P!!!! 💕💕

y/n.y/l you two make a better couple than you and I ever would anyway 😂 ♥︎ by author

user9 WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS EARLIER?! we’ve been spiralling for WEEKS

user12 actually he's been saying it from the beginning. we just didn't want to listen 😂😂

user8 max: “here’s my gf. leave me out of y/n’s business”

user12 OK but pietra is STUNNING!! Max, you’ve been hiding her for how long?!

user7 the way he had to clarify this because of us is actually hilarious. sorry, Max.

user11 OMG I feel so dumb now we really had y/n in a whole relationship she wasn’t even in 😭

29 August 2024

y/n.y/l

Liked by oscarpiastri, sophiaaemelia and 289.034 others

y/n.y/l outtakes from ai·bee·thuh

view all 930 comments

user1 AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!?? MYSTERY SOLVED IG

user12 I THINK THIS MIGHT BE THE GREATEST THING TO HAPPEN TO MY FEED THIS YEAR I AM NOT EVEN JOKING

maxfewtrell ✓ So Lando gets the cute video and I get the passed out in the car pic? Playing favourites, I see. Noted.

user8 Max calling out Y/n for favoritism is peak sibling energy

user33 i can't believe we were full on shipping them not even a week ago omg

maxfewtrell ✓ Also, can everyone stop tagging me in that shadow pic now? Like, I’m good, it’s definitely not me 😅 ♥︎ by author

user11 pietra honestly deserves a medal for surviving this holiday with these three omg

user17 GUYS I WAS ALREADY PRETTY SHOCKED AT LANDO'S VIDEO BLOWING A KISS I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I HAD COMING

pietra.pilao Special week 🤍 ♥︎ by author

user81 the lift photo with the McDonald’s bag is so relatable. even on a fancy holiday, you gotta have your nuggets ♥︎ by author

user25 turns out Max wasn't lying when he said y/n wasn’t his headache... lando’s the lucky one 😂

user10 and y/n and pietra? they do ✨besties ✨ better than anyone ♥︎ by author

user19 can we get a ‘whoops, my bad’ from the ppl who saw them in Ibiza and STILL missed the fact that Pietra was there?

user2 they literally had a front row seat to the full gossip and still didn’t catch on !!!!! like hELLO? u had one job

user14 THE SOFT LAUNCH TURNED INTO A HARD LAUNCH REAL QUICK I AM SHOOK

alexandrasaintmleux ✓ Ahhh loveeee 🩷🩷 ♥︎ by author

user26 both boys punching above their weight fr. i said what i said.

francisca.cgomes ✓ ❤️❤️😍 ♥︎ by author

user16 The way Max is sleeping in that last pic has me wheezing ♥︎ by author

user3 lando is literally holding y/n like he’s never letting her go boy is WHIPPED

user29 WE'RE GOING TO SEE "LANDO NORRIS' PARTNER" UNDER YN'S NAME NOW WHEN SHE WATCHES FROM THE GARAGE what a time to be alive

user7 not the way y/n is casually posting a McDonald’s bag in a robe and THEN dropping the most beautiful couple pic with lando

user5 waIT SO THE BOY KISSING HER HEAD IN THE SHADOW PIC WAS LANDO??? WE WERE ALL WRONG. I NEED TO LIE DOWN.

maxfewtrell you know, it truly baffles me how this was barely even considered

y/n.y/l no one believed in me enough to be able to pull f1 race winner lando norris. humbling.

user20 YN I - 😭😭😭😭💀💀

user38 it was a couple’s holiday the whole time 😭😭 I need a moment to recover

user9 this fandom’s clownery knows no bounds istg.........

user21 not me crying over the hard launch of the year when I was just admiring Max’s sleeping face 5 seconds ago

user24 Ibiza really gave us everything: friendship goals, couple goals, and max in a food coma

user18 IT WAS LANDO KISSING HER HEAD. I feel so betrayed by my own theories and also pretty disappointed in myself i couldn't tell it was his shadow

landonorris ✓ I see you saved the best for last 🖤

y/n.y/l ☺️☺️

y/n.y/l omg guys i wasn’t being dry i just don’t know what else to say with all you watching 😭😭

1 September 2024

#social media au #f1 imagine #f1 smau #f1 x reader #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #bsf!reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you

2K notes · View notes

hausofwoo · 6 months ago

Text

open wide | park seonghwa

pairing: park seonghwa x afab!reader

word count: 5.7K

summary: you start working at a restaurant and everything seems to be going well; you work hard, you made friends, and even when you mess up, your coworkers still have your back… except for the bartender, seonghwa.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, restaurant!au, bartender! and dom!seonghwa, enemies to lovers trope, HATE FUCK, oral (f and m receiving), pussy slapping, dick slapping, choking, hair pulling, edging, fingering, creampie, alcohol consumption, sex under the influence of alcohol (but both consenting), unprotected piv (WRAP IT UP BE SAFE), cumplay, dacryphilia, seonghwa is an asshole and reader is strangely attracted to it, degrading, reader gives switch vibes, VERY descriptive smut scene [i have no shame], seonghwa is HUNG, use of pet names (princess, baby, good girl, little/dirty slut), woosan allegations LMAO, lmk if i missed anything! also feat. server/work bestie!ryujin, server!wooyoung and san, food runner!mingi, and restaurant manager!hongjoong.

author’s note: me n my friend were talking about seonghwa and the thought of him *ahem* slapping his dick on ur face .. and it sent us into a spiral. i had to make dreams come true. thank u to @hausofmingi and T for being my beta-readers and for giving amazing feedback and ideas :-) this one goes out to all the restaurant girlies!

seonghwa was pissing you the fuck off.

working at a restaurant is already hard enough, but to have an enemy that you work with? it’s unbearable.

you were new to the industry when you started at the restaurant, and of course you got treated like you were stupid for the first few months. you almost expected it, since you had friends who worked at restaurants and they warned you that people will walk all over you for being “green.” you learned as fast as you could, making mistakes here and there. but eventually you felt as if you proved everyone there wrong; that you are a good server and you are hard working, despite your mistakes. you built a rapport with your coworkers, and they granted you grace when you needed it. everyone, except for him.

the bartender. god that fucking bartender. your manager hongjoong introduced you on your first day, and ever since you’ve been butting heads.

“this is seonghwa, our bartender,” hongjoong says, pointing out the black-haired man setting up the bar. “he’s been here since we opened, but he’s been in the industry for even longer.”

“oh, wow,” you exclaim, watching him splay out the non-slip mats around the bar.

“yeah, wow,” hongjoong laughs. “this guy can pour exactly an ounce of liquor without even looking. and he’s fast. you’ll learn a lot from him.”

the corner of seonghwa’s mouth quirks up in almost a smug way. he’s good and he knows it. with his legendary status came his cockiness.

“well i gotta grab some paperwork for you to finish up,” hongjoong says as heads to the back. “i’ll be back out in a sec.”

you stand by the bar, basically twiddling your thumbs. “it’s nice to meet you, i’m–"

“look, princess,” seonghwa interrupts. “as much as i love introducing myself to yet another newbie, i have more important things to do right now.”

and that was just the beginning, and not just for your newfound nickname.

the best way to sum up how he continues to treat you is from this one specific experience. you rang up drinks for your table, and you meant to put a vodka soda instead of a tequila soda. you noticed it right away so you immediately cancelled that order and rung it up correctly. you promptly went to the bar to tell seonghwa.

“hey, ignore that first ticket for the tequila soda, i sent a new ticket,” you called out. but when seonghwa turned, he had the drink already in his hand, looking like he was about to set it on the drink pass.

“oh.”

he grabbed the new ticket with his other hand, glanced at it briefly, looked at you, and then slammed the ticket onto the ticket spindle. he turned around and dumped the drink in the sink and started making the new drink.

“hey i’m sorry, it was a mistake,” you defended.

“yeah yeah, it’s fine, princess,” he said with an eye roll. he placed the new drink on the pass. you inspect his face, wondering if it really was fine. he scoffs and pushes the drink forward more. “just take your drink and go, it’s way too fucking busy to be standing around talking.”

maybe it wasn’t a big deal. maybe he was just in the weeds and was taking it out on you. that’s the thing about restaurants, when you’re in the middle of service and everyone’s running around, you kinda end up saying shit you don’t mean. it was never anything personal. you knew that because at the end of service, you’d finish up closing with your coworkers and have a shift beer, laughing it off like it didn’t happen. because it didn’t matter in the end, it was just a restaurant.

but seonghwa never joined. even tonight, when you, the other servers, and even the manager were sat around the bar having your drinks, he just quietly broke down the bar.

“hey seonghwa,” hongjoong calls after him. “don’t worry about the bar, i’ll take care of the rest of it. you guys had a really hard night. have your shift beer and chill.”

“no no, i’ve got it. i’m just gonna finish up and get out of here.” you watch him as he lifts up the floor mats and starts mopping the sticky floor. you turn to your coworker, ryujin, who’s sipping at her PBR.

“i think seonghwa hates me,” you say, just low enough under your other coworkers chatting.

“what?” she laughs. “no no, i don’t think so. he’s just kind of an asshole.”

you glance over at him as he’s wiping down the back counters. you turn back to her.

“i don’t know, he’s just always been kinda short with me.” you look down at your drink and fiddle with the tab. “i feel like he doesn’t really like me. i don’t know what i did.”

“listen,” ryujin starts, placing a hand on your shoulder. “he’s short with everyone. shit, i’ve been here like 2 years and i still know nothing about him. don’t worry about it. he’s just here for a check like everyone else.”

you watch as seonghwa starts to walk back to the kitchen, lifting his sweatshirt off of his form, and a sliver of skin peeks at the small of his back just below his t-shirt. you can’t look away until he’s out of your line of sight, and ryujin starts giggling next to you.

“wait a minute, do you like him or something?” ryujin whispers.

“no no!” you say. “it’s just—i feel like it’s easy for me to talk to everyone here. with him, he just brushes me off. and he started that stupid nickname. ‘princess’. it feels condescending.”

“well i don’t know,” ryujin shrugs. “i don’t think he likes to mix business with pleasure anyway, in any form.”

you nod and look to see seonghwa back at the register, counting the cash and pulling out tips. he walks over and hands each server their share of drink tips, leaving you last. you look up at him, but he doesn’t even look at you. he just places the money on the bar, and quickly turns to go back to the kitchen.

“okay,” you sigh. “well i’m gonna get out of here, i gotta get some sleep. are we still on for sunday celebration?”

“um yeah dude. i’m gonna need it after we deal with the sunday service crowd.” ryujin grabs her bag and starts heading to the door with you.

“sunday celebration.” it’s kind of like a fucked-up weekly tradition your restaurant has. the weekend drives all of the staff mad and then after service sunday night, (since the restaurant is closed on mondays) pretty much everyone working grabs a shift drink and books it to the dive bar a couple streets over. is it healthy? absolutely not. but is it kinda weirdly cathartic? absolutely it is.

and you really really needed it after sundays service. you got stuck with a 15-top who had all sorts of allergies and dietary restrictions. like who the hell has a lettuce allergy? are they just making it up because they just don’t like lettuce? and why the hell are you trying to order a house salad when the main ingredient is literally lettuce? plus their drink orders were nuts. a tequila on the rocks? JUST tequila? and what’s worse is that the guy ordered like 4 of them. you just finished ringing in his 5th one.

you walk up to the bar to grab the drink (because damn seonghwa is fast) and look up to see him turning to you.

“hey, you gotta cut that guy off after that drink,” he says while shaking a cocktail in a shaker.

“yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” you laugh dryly.

“you shouldn’t have even rang this one,” he says, setting the shaker down. “you know there’s a 4 drink max, right? that’s like, a policy we have.”

“oh, i didn’t know that i guess.” you stab the ticket on the spindle.

“yeah i guess not,” he says with a sharpness in his voice, and starts pouring the drink in the cocktail glass. “just don’t do it again, princess.”

yeah, maybe you didn’t know that rule. but why does he have to talk to you like that? you start walking towards your 15-top, past the kitchen. you must’ve been really in your head about what seonghwa said because you completely missed someone yelling “corner.”

what happened felt like hours long, but it was probably only a few seconds. the food runner mingi was walking out of the kitchen with 3 plates of food. when you were passing by the kitchen entrance, it was too quick to move, and down fell all 3 plates. it was a mess.

“oh my god mingi, i’m so sorry!” you exclaim. you immediately grab a broom and attempt to sweep what you can.

“don’t apologize to me, apologize to seonghwa,” mingi says meekly, picking up the pieces of broken plate. “it was going to his 2-top at the bar.”

fuck. you don’t even want to look at him. you know he’s pissed. you finish cleaning the last bit of your mess while mingi goes back and asks for a refire on those dishes. as soon as you throw out the trash, you feel tears start to well up in your eyes. you can’t cry in the front of house, it’s unprofessional. but you can’t cry in the kitchen, unless you want the whole back of house to pester you with questions. the only solution was one place, every server’s safe haven: the walk in freezer.

you close the frosty door behind you, letting out a deep sigh that turns quickly into a billowing cloud. then, the waterworks. you couldn’t even help it, it all became too much. maybe it was out of frustration or stress, either way, you really needed this cry. tears stream down your face, turning cold on your cheeks from the freezing air.

it was mostly frustrating because the whole reason this happened was because of seonghwa. he snapped at you for not knowing some stupid rule, and it caused you to lose focus. it’s his fault.

just when you felt yourself calming down, the freezer door opens swiftly. it was him.

“you wanna tell me why my table’s food was refired?” seonghwa spits, anger in his eyes. “they’re gonna have to wait another 10 minutes and they’ve already been waiting for their food for 20.”

“seonghwa, please,” you huff, trying to hold it together. “can i just have one more second?”

“no! i could be totally out of a tip from a table because of you.”

“dude, it was a mistake!” you defend. you feel backed into a corner. literally, the walk-in was tiny and you were basically pressed up against the cold wall with seonghwa hovering over you.

“you keep making these stupid mistakes. i don’t know why they even hired you, you know fucking nothing about restaurants.”

you stood in shock. you didn’t know what to say. seonghwa had this fire behind his eyes that almost scared you. his chest was puffing up and down, breathing heavily from adrenaline. a bead of sweat falls down his temple, threatening to fall from his face. why did suddenly… he look so… attractive? you were so confused by how your body was reacting. instead of pure hatred, suddenly you felt a pang of lust. what the hell was happening to you?

“you owe me, princess,” seonghwa mumbles.

and in a blink of an eye, he withdraws from the walk-in and slams the door behind him, leaving you completely disoriented.

at the end of service, you were BEAT. you slump back into the bar seat, crack open your shift drink, and take a hefty gulp. ryujin jumps into the seat next to you, already drinking her usual PBR.

“dude, tonight SUCKED,” she groans.

“tell me about it,” you mutter, counting your cash tips. “at least they tipped well, but at what cost?”

“the cost of my fucking sanity, that’s what,” ryujin whines. “please tell me you’re still down for celebration. please please pleeeease?”

“oh i am so down,” you say. you look at your other coworkers. “san, woo? you coming?”

“you bet i am,” wooyoung chuckles, gathering up his stuff. “i’m heading there now. c’mon san.”

san stands and starts heading out the door with wooyoung but then turns back. “wait, seonghwa, are you finally gonna come to sunday celebration?”

seonghwa places down the wine glass he was polishing. “maybe. we’ll see.” he turns to hang up the glass on the rack and for a moment, just a moment, he makes eye contact with you. you look away immediately and decide to put your attention back on your beer. you chug what’s left of it and toss the can in the trash.

“ryujin, let’s go."

you and your fellow servers took the booth in the back of the bar, your usual spot. a couple of them were complaining about the tables they had, some were playing an intense game of darts, while you nursed your mixed drink as ryujin rants about her situationship.

wooyoung slips into the seat next to you, grabbing his beer on the table. “remind me to never play darts with san again. he’s way too competitive.”

you laugh, “you know, you say that, but you always end up playing with him every sunday.”

wooyoung chuckles as he shrugs. he then looks around the bar. “wait, didn’t seonghwa say he was coming?”

“he said he MIGHT come,” san says as he slides into the booth. you can feel yourself retreating as soon as his name was brought up. “but you know him. he never hangs out with anyone outside work.”

“he’s probably still scrubbing the bar,” the food runner mingi chimes in. “that dude is a clean freak.”

“nothing wrong with that at a restaurant!” san says.

“hey i’m gonna grab another drink,” you mumble, standing up. “i’ll be right back.”

you walk over and lean against the bar and wait patiently for the bartender to get to you. you look around, sort of people-watching the sunday crowd. it’s all industry people, you know it. you turn your head back to see the bartender facing you.

“what can i get you?”

“oh, i’ll just take a vodka cran,” you force a smile. he nods and turns to make your drink.

“a vodka cranberry?” you hear a chuckle next to you. “i thought your go-to would be different.”

you look over and see seonghwa leaning on the bar and looking over at you. he wasn’t wearing his work clothes like you’re used to seeing him in. he was wearing jeans and a black tank with a leather jacket. he looked different. he looked…. really good.

“oh, you made it,” you say, trying not to sound annoyed. you gather yourself a bit. “oh, don’t judge me for my drink choice, okay? as much as i love our free shift drinks, i don’t really drink beer outside of work.”

“ah, i see.” he nods, definitely uninterested, and looks at the bartender who had already set your drink down and was waiting for you to pay. you dig through your bag, struggling to find your wallet. seonghwa notices and sighs. “i’ll just get this one and i’ll get a jack and coke.”

“you didn’t have to do that,” you look up to him in confusion.

“it’s whatever, just take your drink,” he doesn’t even look at you as the bartender hands his drink over and grabs seonghwa’s card that he set on the bar.

“oh. well thank you.” you sip at your drink. “i’m going back to the booth.”

he grabs his jack and coke and takes a quick drink. “darts?”

“um, okay?” you stutter, watching him walk past you to the dart board in the corner, and then following him with a look on your face that could only be described as complete and utter confusion.

“san, woo, wanna play teams?” you call across to your coworkers. they perk up and immediately jump over to the dartboard.

“me and san versus you and seonghwa?” woo asks, rubbing his palms together with a chuckle. “let’s say loser buys drinks?”

“i’m not really good at this,” you say laughing. “but i’ll do my best.”

“oh, great,” seonghwa scoffs as he writes both of your initials in the chalkboard by the dartboard. “just show me what you got.” he grabs the darts and places them in your hand, touch lingering a little longer than needed.

“you know,” you say to seonghwa as you close out 18 on the chalkboard, then passing the darts to san. “i really wasn’t expecting you to come out tonight.”

“we’ve begging him for what seems like years, man,” san chimes in, attempting but eventually failing to hit bullseye. yet somehow team woosan is still beating you. he grabs the darts to hand to seonghwa.

“yeah, what changed?” wooyoung says as he leans against a chair.

“i wasn’t really expecting to come out either,” seonghwa admits. “i guess i wanted to see what sunday celebration was all about.” he closes out 17 and 19. why is he so good at everything?

“i mean it’s just all of us getting drunk to get over a shitty shift,” you watch as he tosses the darts to wooyoung for his turn. “so it’s really not much.”

“did you have a shitty shift?” he asks, turning to face you directly.

“w-well, yeah,” you mumble, uncomfortable by the attentiveness. woo quickly hands the darts to you and goes back to a conversation he’s having with san. you look down at the darts in your hands. “look, i know i made a mistake but i really didn’t know that rule about the drinks. and it got me in my head and then mingi came with your table’s food and—“

he rolls his eyes. “you just make a lot of rookie mistakes. you’ll learn.”

you completely abandon the game of darts at this point. “dude, you gotta stop talking to me like that.”

“like what?” he says with a smirk. does he think this is funny?

“like you think i’m stupid or something,” you say, slightly pushing his shoulder. “i’m not stupid. yeah, you’ve been in the industry way longer than me, but we all have to start somewhere.” you grab your bag and walk over to the booth, san and woo protesting behind you. you slouch next to ryujin with a sigh.

“what the hell just happened?” ryujin questions, looking back at seonghwa by the dartboard.

“seonghwa’s being a dick to me, once again.” you exhale deeply. “let’s get another drink.”

as the night went on, your coworkers start filing out one by one. san and wooyoung were one of the last to leave together (something going on there?) and you’re left in front of the bar, struggling to find an uber. your apartment is definitely walking distance, but not at this time of night. the real issue was getting a fucking ride. every uber was at least 20 minutes away. you looked back through the bar window and saw the bartender starting to close up. shit, it’s almost 1 am. you look back down to your phone and consider downloading lyft for maybe the 2nd time in your life.

“what are you still doing here?” you hear a voice behind you. you look back and it’s seonghwa, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

“i should be asking you the same thing,” you mutter. when will he leave you alone?

“can’t find an uber?” he questions, pointing down at your phone.

“yeah, its fine though,” you brush him off.

“you live close by right?” he asks, annoyance in his voice. “i’ll just drop you off.”

“no, really,” you huff. “i don’t need your help.”

“look princess,” he looks to you intently. “i’m not gonna let you wait outside a bar at this hour. i’m not that big of an asshole.”

you consider for a moment. he’s definitely right. it’s late, and staying outside a closed bar this late can lead to trouble.

“fine. but stop calling me princess.”

when he pulls up to your apartment building, you start to have an internal war with yourself. you can’t help but have this anger in the pit of your stomach that’s eating you up.

“you look deep in thought,” seonghwa says impatiently.

“yeah, uh,” you mumble. “i just.. i need to know, why do you hate me?”

seonghwa pulls the car in a spot and parks. “i don’t hate you, necessarily…” he starts.

“you just think you’re better than me?” you pry, irritated.

“i mean, i have been in the industry longer than you…” he smiles smugly.

“there you go again,” you throw your hands up, hatred scratching at your throat. “you are so belittling to me! you think you’re hot shit, huh?”

“do you think i am?” he smiles at the corner of his mouth, and lets out a dry chuckle.

“i think i can’t fucking stand you.”

he looks intently at your face, and you swear, he glances at your lips.

and that’s when he leans in and kisses you. it takes you by complete surprise, and you pull back. you look at each other with a newfound yet curious lust. for a beat, for just a moment, you both look at each other with the same understanding. you want to kiss him again. you grab his face and pull him back in. the kiss was all-consuming. you feel a wave of energy course through you, as if every neuron in you was lit up. it was almost dizzying. he holds the side of your face, grazing past your ear and the holding the nape of your neck. every touch felt like fire.

he slides his tongue through your lips and deepens the kiss, which makes you melt more into him. you feel his arm wrap around your waist and moves you closer. you felt a rush of heat run through you, but then seonghwa pulls back slightly.

“let’s go inside?” he asks, his voice low.

with no reply, you both get out and you take him up to your apartment and to your room, closing the door behind you. he stands close to you, pushing you up against the door and kissing you up your neck and jaw until his lips meet yours again. he slots his leg between yours and presses himself against your heat, grinding as he devours you.

you turn to push him against the wall and sank down to your knees.

“fuuuck,” he groans, smiling as he slips his shirt off. “i like this view.”

“shut up, asshole,” you snap as you unzip his jeans, pulling them down. you look up to see a bulge pressing through his black underwear. god, you can tell it’s fucking big. you graze your fingers over it, teasing him. he lets out a heavy sigh, and you feel him twitch under you.

“i need you to touch me now,” he says grabbing the back of your head.

“yeah? or what?” you tease, just barely holding the length of him.

“c’mon princess,” he says with a cocky smirk. that fucking nickname. he moves his underwear down to reveal his hard cock hanging heavy by your lips. your mouth opens as you stare up at his length. he’s really big. “oh baby, are you already cock-drunk before even touching it?”

you sat in shock at the sheer size of him. he grabs your chin and moves himself closer to your face.

“open,” he says, tapping his dick on your lips. you open up to take him in your mouth, with him groaning at the warm, wet feeling.

twirling your tongue around his length, you earn a pleased moan from seonghwa’s lips. you take as much of him as you can in your mouth, nearly gagging but pushing through. you can feel him twitching in the back of your throat, which makes you hum with satisfaction.

“yeah,” he hisses, pulling his length out a bit and slowly thrusting back into your mouth. “take my cock just like that, baby.”

he pushes into your throat and pulls out again, this time out completely. a string of saliva still connects between his dick and your lips. he grabs himself and slaps it on your face by your open mouth, your jaw going slack and your tongue out to taste him.

“ahh, such a good girl,” he smirks down at you, slapping his dick on your face again. he grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes your mouth back on his cock.

you grab the base and start sucking like your life depends on it, going from the base to the tip, where you swirl your tongue around him. you regain a little control back, stroking and twisting up his length and sucking at his tip, and you can taste the precum pooling into your mouth. you feel him thrusting into your throat, tugging at your hair and pushing you deeper onto him. you can’t help but let out a whimper at the feeling.

“fuuuck, you like that, you little slut?” he tugs you off his cock by your hair. “you like when i fuck your mouth? keep doing that for me.”

you lost all control in that moment. you can only do as you’re told. you open your mouth like a good girl, and suck. he pistons into you, hitting the back of your throat over and over. tears prick the corners of your eyes, but you don’t care. you only want to please him. you moan onto his cock, forcing yourself to not gag from his size. the vibrations in your throat only drive him more mad, and you can tell from his deep moans and the hardening of his cock. he’s definitely close.

the grip around your hair tightens while he continues to bob you up and down his cock. your eyes flutter shut and tears start to fall down your cheeks, and you hold his thighs, nails digging crescents into his skin. he continues to hiss and moan in praise, loving the way you’re sputtering around his cock and leaving spit running down your chin. you take all the power left in you to lap at the underside of his cock, causing him to groan loudly and pull you off of him.

“open wide for me, princess,” he says, stroking himself above you. you obey and lay your tongue flat for him, ready to take his load. he lets out a long moan, spurting all around and into your mouth. you lick up every drop remaining from his tip as he comes down from his high.

just as you regain your composure, he’s helping you take your shirt off and kissing your spit and cum covered mouth. he pushes you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed. you fall back and let him slide your pants off, leaving you just in your bra and (fucking soaked) underwear. he falls to his knees as he goes down to kiss your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to your wet heat. when he goes to lick the wet spot in your underwear, licking a stripe up to your clit, you let out a small gasp.

“so sensitive,” he grins, lifting his head up and moving to take off your underwear. he grabs your thighs and pushes your legs back so your pussy is in full view for him.

“and so fucking wet for me…” he trails off before he dives down to devour you.

he laps at your wet hole, savoring the taste and the way it contracts around nothing. his tongue leads up to your clit, earning a sharp moan from you. liking the way you sound, he does the same pattern, making you whine with pleasure. he looks up to you, a moaning mess, and flicks at your bud teasingly, as if he’s mocking you. he hums in amusement.

“hold this,” he releases your leg for you to grab, keeping you spread open for him. he places his fingers on your clit, circling a bit before dipping down to your hole, just at the surface. you can’t help but clench. “so eager.”

he plunges his middle two fingers into you, your tightness gripping around him. he lowers his mouth back to your clit, swirling around as he begins finger fucking you. he’s eating you like he’s fucking starved. the stimulation had you gripping the sheets, whimpering.

he hums against your pussy, kissing and sucking at your clit. “mmm, fuck,” he smiles with a moan. “so good…”

you can’t help but grab the back of his head, gripping onto his hair while he works his fingers and mouth on you. he twirls his tongue around your clit all while curling his fingers in you, hitting that sweet spot.

“s-seonghwa,” you let out. “don’t stop, it feels so fucking good.”

out of defiance, he pulls off of you completely, your legs dropping down and making you ache from the loss of being filled. you can’t help but buck your hips up, desperate for him to touch you. he runs his hand back onto your pussy, spreading his fingers around your bud, avoiding touching it. and then, he slaps your wet cunt. you wince, partly from pain, but also from the stimulation. your bundle of nerves prickles and reddens the wet skin.

“mmm, dirty slut,” he laughs dryly, sadistically. “so desperate to cum. you want to cum for me?”

you nod, a little too impatiently.

“tell me.” he circles his fingers around your dripping hole again.

“fuck,” you let out, exasperated. “please, seonghwa. please let me cum.”

with a smirk, he drives his fingers back into you and latches onto your clit, working at a steady but meticulous pace. when your hips start grinding against his mouth, he holds you down, and continues working you. he swirls his tongue around your clit just right, and massages at your sweet spot. you feel your orgasm building in your stomach, like a cord about to snap. you feel heat rush through your entire body like a wave.

“i’m cumming,” you barely moan out, completely overtaken by pleasure. seonghwa relentlessly works you through it, moaning against you as you climax. he laps at your clit, trying to get every drop of your orgasm. he doesn’t stop until you have to grab his head and lift it.

he looks up at you with an intense lust in his eyes, and his mouth and chin soaked from your juices.

“you drive me fucking crazy,” you sigh as you watch him stand up and lean over you. he pushes you back to the head of the bed, on his knees and slotting between your thighs.

eating you out must have really turned him on, because his cock is hanging heavy between you, red and leaking with precum. he guides his dick up and down your sensitive cunt, gathering your wetness up to stimulate your clit. he groans looking down at the sight.

he eases his way into you, gripping your thighs to keep from snapping his hips into you. your mouth goes slack at the sensation, and you try to stifle back a moan. he inches his way into you, thrusting slowly until he bottoms out.

“fuck, princess,” he sighs, and he feels you clench around his length.

he leans forward to hover over you, slowly thrusting into your heat. he grabs the nape of your neck and kisses you deeply, letting you moan in his mouth. each thrust he pounds into you makes you melt into each other more, desperate to feel every inch of one another. the rolls of his hips hitting deep caverns of your cunt makes you dizzy from stimulation. the squelching sound of your wet pussy makes him pull away, now grabbing at your throat hard enough to where it hurts a little, but hurts so good.

“tell me you’re my little slut,” he spits at you, thrusting deeper inside of you.

“i-i’m your little slut,” you say between moans, completely lost in his trance. he has all the power over you.

he releases your neck and lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, making him reach a completely new angle inside of you. he pistons into you with determination, and reaches down to toy with your clit. you begin to see stars.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, relishing the squeezing of your core.

his hips snap into a faster pace, all while mercilessly thumbing at your clit. the stimulation becomes all too much for you, and you feel yourself reaching another high.

“oh my god don’t stop, please seonghwa don’t stop,” you moan, unintentionally clenching around his length.

“yeah baby, cum on my cock,” he smiles down at you. “just like that.”

you can’t even think, all you can grasp is how good this man feels on top of you, how good he feels in you, how full you feel. your breath hitches as a wave of pleasure courses through your body, sending you into a blissed out state. your moans are matched by seonghwa, him fucking your contracting cunt, as if it’s begging to milk him dry. he continues to thrust into your overstimulated core until he releases his hot ropes of cum into you, completely filling you up.

he finally slows down his movement, both your breathing heavy and irregular. he pulls out of you with a hiss, watching your pulsing core as his release slowly spills out of you.

“jesus christ,” he groans at the sight. as if he couldn’t resist, he brings his head down and licks up your core, swallowing the liquid. once every drop is savored, he lifts up to level with you. he then places a kiss on your lips, suddenly soft, and very unexpected.

without a word, he grabs you by the waist and holds you close, allowing you to rest your head on his chest. he softly brushes his fingers through your hair.

and just like that, you both drift off to sleep with only one thing on your mind. what just happened, and what the hell is going to happen next?

a/n: this is my first real fic on the internet yall!! im so new to this but i had so much fun. i hope u did too! stay tuned for part 2, but for now please leave feedback ♥ edit: part two is here :-)

#park seonghwa #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fic #ateez fic #seonghwa x reader #ateez one shot #dom!seonghwa

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jamminvroomvroom · 1 month ago

Text

as sick as it sounds, i loved you first. 1

LN x fem!leclerc reader

part 1 of 2 -> find part two linked HERE!

in which you just can’t help yourself and neither can lando…

I’M BACK BITCHES!!!! hi sorry it’s been a while but we are back with what i hope is a bang lol. i’ve missed writing so much and as stressful as this was, i’m so so glad to be uploading something! i worked hard on this one and, of course, now i hate it whoops, but my girlie @lavenderlando made this possible and worth it. that’s my hype woman fr fr. N E WAY enjoy! lemme know what you think, and use some imagination for the timeline…

songs to set the vibe: i love you, i’m sorry by gracie abrams, 2hands by tate mcrae, love in the dark by adele, illicit affairs by taylor swift, think twice by suki waterhouse

warnings: 18+!! minors GO AWAY! smut, angst, fluff, kinda enemies to lovers? kinda? r is charles sister oop, miscommunication, both of them are down bad for eachother but they are also extremely dumb! breeding kink, size kink, pain kink (if u squint), unprotected p in v (don’t be silly!),

part 1: 10.3k words

1. oncoming traffic

“hey, osc, who’s that girl hanging around leclerc? thought he was still with alex.” lando tries his best to sound nonchalant, but oscar can see through him like a freshly buffed window, the way lando clears his throat and nervously ruffles his unruly hair.

“mate, i know you’re not the sharpest but i didn’t think you were that slow.” oscar laughs, side-eyeing the brit. he was baffled that lando was even asking. lando just shoots him a glare. “wait, you really don’t know?” lando’s glare hardens further, his eyes demanding an answer and oscar just laughs. “that’s his sister, you idiot. how have you never seen her?”

lando didn’t know how he’d never seen her. this year had been nonstop, what with the pseudo-championship battle and the never ending media shitstorm that rained on him whenever he reared his head. he’d also learned in his years of racing never to look too closely at the women in another drivers entourage. that’s how you ended up in the wall during a race. but charles’ sister? how had he never noticed?

“maybe i should go and introduce myself.” lando trailed off thoughtfully, his voice remaining playful. oscar snorted beside him, adjusting his racesuit.

“ooh, yeah, send twitter into a frenzy. it’s been boring lately.” the aussie driver drawls sarcastically, successfully dodging lando’s rapidly approaching elbow to his ribs.

“glad to know that you take pleasure in my never ending public humiliation!” lando grins maniacally, sauntering out of the garage, no longer any intention of seeking out the pretty girl in the short, black skirt. it was for the best.

he’s passing through the pit box, immersed in a groupchat thread with max and p about a trip to portugal that he didn’t really want to go on, and bam! like the idiot oscar had just accused him of being, he slams blindly into oncoming traffic.

oncoming traffic: the pretty girl in the short, black skirt.

“are you incapable of looking where you’re going?” your accent comes out thick, low with rage. it tickles his brain, like he’s heard it before. lando opens his mouth, like a fish out of water, closes it again pathetically. “seriously, for a pilot you have abysmal spacial awareness!”

“sorry… what the fuck.�� lando mutters. why is this woman shouting at him like she knows him? like he regularly barrels into her?

“lando, yes?” you’ve calmed down a bit now, but you still speak through gritted teeth.

“…yes?” he replies like he’s not so sure.

“learn to look where you’re going.” you wrinkle your nose, composing yourself before stepping around him and strutting down the pitlane as if nothing had happened.

lando stands there, fixed in place, watching her walk away in utter confusion.

“smooth!” oscar calls from inside the garage, flanked by several laughing mechanics.

“go fuck yourself!” lando’s flushed red, now, and beeline’s for the pit wall.

he’s out of earshot when oscar says it.

“think he just met his wife, boys.”

lando is staring at the data on the screen when it hits him, will’s voice somewhere far away all of the sudden.

the mysterious leclerc had every right to reprimand him, because she was right. he did need to learn how to look where he’s going.

she’d told him that already, during their actual first meeting.

2. the first collision

the music was too loud, suffocating him along with the overbearing smell of cheap perfume, but the alcohol in his system and the outpouring of validation kept lando going.

three time race winner, lando norris.

five years of clawing back points and grabbing at podiums with two impatient hands had built up to this, to the incomparable glory of gracing that prestigious top step, and lando wasn’t about to let go of this moment just because of a pressing headache. max and pietra were waiting for him in a booth, surrounded by the rest of lando’s touring entourage. he was wracking up quite the tab, but it was all worth it. every slap on the back, seductive grin sent his way, made it worth it.

he’s stumbling over his feet, wasted, or close to it, grinning lazily, peering through hooded eyes. the vodka cranberry in his hand is sloshing dangerously around in the glass, his careless movements propelling him towards disaster.

lando hears the splatter of liquid, first, the scoff of disgust immediately after. long hair whips against his face as she turns, eyes wide with fury, set into a face that was never meant to look angry. he can smell vanilla, flowers. she’s an angel, turned devilish under the strobe lights, her delicate face morphing when he takes in the sight of him.

“are you fucking serious? mon dieu!” her accent twists his tummy, as does the increasingly see-through material of her tight white dress, layers of chiffon turning transparent with the stark red liquid. it’s all over her back, running slowly down the length of her exposed thighs, sticky. lando stands there, utterly transfixed and useless. she looks like she might slap him; he kind of wants her to. “of course, just stand there. fucking pilots.”

she mutters the last part and lando gulps. what does she know about other drivers? the implication makes his skin crawl for no reason, the idea of this nameless, mystery woman being familiar with his co-workers. he’s flushed with embarrassment for a multitude of reasons, opening his mouth just to close it again.

“‘m sorry!” he finally calls out to her, over the music. can the dj turn that shit down? “can i buy you a drink?” she just glares at him, gesturing at her ruined dress. “or… a new dress?” lando tries again, flashing what he hopes are puppy dog eyes.

he wants to take her back to his hotel room, lick the sweet liquid off of her frame, lap at her til she’s clean and crying. he wants to peel the stained white material off, tear it a little - it’s already ruined anyway! he can’t, though, because she’s wrinkling her nose at him, eyebrow raised, judging, and he’s awash with embarrassment all over again. the club spins and he feels nauseous. he finds max’s eyes on him, his friend stifling laughter at the tragic scene.

she’s gone when he looks back, seems to have disappeared into a cloud of distinctly expensive perfume, and her friends are curling their lips up at him, dismissive. they don’t care who he is. he wonders if they’re redbull fans, ferrari fans, perhaps.

he’s met with hoots of laughter as he slumps into the booth. he grabs a shot without a thought, doesn’t even register what liquor it is as it slides down his thick throat.

“can’t believe you just did that. only you would spill a drink all over leclerc’s sister.” max teases, elbowing him playfully.

“wha- he has a sister?” lando slurs, spluttering.

he doesn’t remember much after that.

youruser just posted on instagram:

tagged: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc

liked by francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc and others.

youruser: shoutout to the guy that spilled his drink all over me!

francisca.cgomes: so beautiful so slay i miss u already

alexandrasaintmleux: love you!!!

charles_leclerc: delete this 🤦‍♂️

and other comments.

3. the watchful eyes of the big, black horse

your arm is linked with kika’s, giggling with her as you walk through the paddock.

“what about him?” kika whispers, pointing her chin towards one of the passing alpine mechanics. he’s blonde, pale, eyes dark. “pierre said he heard that he’s good with the ladies.” she wiggles her eyebrows and your cheeks heat up, swatting her playfully.

“i am not about to get a reputation for sleeping my way through the paddock.” you scoff. “plus, he’s not my type.” you shrug.

“you need to start putting yourself out there more, you keep saying you want someone.” the portuguese girl reasons. you nod sheepishly.

“i don’t wanna look for something, i want it to find me. is that pathetic? i just see how you are with pierre, how alex is with charles, and that’s what i want. something… real.” you sigh. kika sees the way your eyes gloss over with sadness.

“it’s never as easy and as perfect as it looks, babe, trust me. and anyway, maybe just focus on… the thing you were telling me about.” kika lowers her voice, giving you the look.

“shut up!” you squeal. “god, i am not discussing that here!”

“discussing what?” you hear pierre before you see him, hot with embarrassment. you’ve know him since before you could even walk, which is why you have no problem voicing your deepest, darkest shame.

“how i’m not getting laid, apparently!” you drawl sarcastically, slapping your hand over your forehead.

a poorly concealed laugh that you don’t recognise has you whipping around, eyes wide with bewilderment. it’s hearty, smooth, surprisingly warming. you practically growl when your eyes land on the source of the noise, standing next to pierre who looks embarrassed for you, his lips pressed thinly together to prevent himself from cackling.

“why is he here?” you grit your teeth, squeezing your eyes so tightly shut that you feel a pang in your temples.

“as polite as ever.” lando smirks. you open

your eyes just in time to catch him eyeing up the skin of your thighs that your skirt doesn’t quite cover. is he checking you out?

“says the drink spiller.” you bite back, rolling your eyes.

“hey, i tried to pay for the damage.” lando looks utterly amused, pink lips still twisted into a punch-worthy smirk.

“so, you’ve met lando, then.” pierre grins, staring between you both. you don’t register the way he’s trading looks with kika, watching whatever this scene is unfold.

“unfortunately!” you smile tightly at the racing drivers.

“pretty sure you walked into me that second time. distracting me in the workplace, or something.” lando chimes in, enjoying this all a bit too much.

“if you did a better job at looking where you’re going-“

“okay, so this has been delightful!” pierre buts in, knowing that you have the shortest temper of all the leclerc offspring. “you,” he points at you. “get laid. you,” he points at lando. “don’t piss her off, you won’t like the result.”

kika can only send you a sympathetic smile, and remind you of the coffee date you have scheduled for tomorrow morning, as she’s dragged away from your place of social suicide. pierre winks, tilts his head far too pointedly for your liking towards lando. you fantasise, in that moment, of clawing his eyes out.

“i am sorry, for the record.” lando smiles at you, genuine and gleaming. something inside of you twists.

“for which time?” you’re just teasing now, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“you have quite the attitude on you. that why you’re not getting any?”

you’re about to rip his head off and give max an even easier ride towards the championship, but lando steps forward. you can smell old spice, tangy and alluring and masculine.

“how fucking dare you-“

“because most men don’t know what to do with a woman like you. don’t know how to treat them right.” he’s so confident when he says it, leaning towards you in a way you can only describe as enticingly.

“oh, and you do?” you scoff, arms crossed. you must remain combative, or else you’ll give in. is this rock bottom?

“i’m free tonight if you wanna find out.”

“i’ll be far too busy doing literally anything else.” you can only pray he hasn’t caught the tremble in your voice, the ever so slight quiver of you bottom lip. you chew it into your mouth to stop yourself.

“but not anyone else.” lando doesn’t pose it as a question. it seems that he’s got you all figured out.

“whatever helps you and your hand sleep well tonight.” you spit. there’s heat between you, sparking into a flame that could burn down your whole life. you feel eyes burning into the back of your head - green ones that match yours. you falter. “i’m done here, lando. have a fantastic evening.”

he takes another liberty, leaning in even closer. spearmint and the idea of a million bad choices flood your every pore. you can feel the big, black horse watching over you, now, set into bright yellow, adorned with ferrari red. looming, warning, turning you in.

“you know, something tells me i will.”

lando disappears first, not even giving you a chance you spin on your heel and storm off. you want to kill him, hurt him, sink your teeth into that bronzed, thick throat, claw into his back, down, down, down… until you’re on your knees and-

“why were you talking to lando?” charles’ voice cuts through your filthy thoughts and you sign yourself over to god immediately, purifying yourself as you banish the visions of delicious sin. after all, you’re standing in the presence of il predestinato, the prince of monaco, a saint to many. but to you, he’s just your brother. your big brother, always in the way, always meddling, always, always watching. you sigh.

“friendly conversation.” you quip, short. you love him dearly, would take bullets for him, but, god, he keeps you on a leash. leo’s has more give than the conceptual tether charles has to you, keeping you close, boyfriendless, out of “trouble”. you know why, and deep down, you’re beyond grateful, all things considered. you can’t admit that, though.

“that’s not how pierre described it to me.” charles raises an eyebrow, voice bitter despite the clear attempt he’s made to try and hide it.

“fucking pierre.” you grunt. “it’s nothing, he came over with pierre. i was with kika. first time i’ve ever even had a conversation with lando.” that didn’t result from a drink being spilt over you to the point of transparency. you leave that bit out - charles really doesn’t need to know that.

charles mulls over your words, eyeing you suspiciously. you want to stomp your heeled foot like a child, a brat, scream and shout and kick and wail that he has to back the fuck off eventually, but you just smile innocently and pray he believes you.

“okay,” he mutters, making his peace. “i don’t want you getting too… familiar with him. bad reputation. he used to be quite sweet until his last breakup and now he will fuck anything with a pulse.” you wrinkle your nose at your brothers crude words, feeling the need to jump in and object. but why? you don’t know lando, you don’t care about lando. you press your lips into a thin, painful line. “you should go back to the hotel with alex. looks like i’ll be here late.” he rolls his eyes, you know how it is.

“sure, good luck.” you offer, smothering the rage that pools in your belly. let me fucking live, you think. just because he’d had to swoop in and save you from yourself once before, didn’t mean that you could live like this forever.

he has lit a spark under you, one that spreads like a wildfire towards the flame that lando ignited minutes before. if only your brother knew how to keep his big mouth shut, you wouldn’t be spurred on to bad behaviour.

if only lando hadn’t spilled that drink over you, maybe you wouldn’t be opening his instagram profile and sending a message request.

a place. your room number. a time.

you only wish you’d gotten to see the devilish grin on his face when he received it.

lando can’t want you for the reasons that other guys do. your status as charles leclerc’s little sister, and the gateway to your brother that you provided, meant nothing to the brit. that’s why you’d let him have you; he wouldn’t try to take more than you wanted to give.

4. generous

the knocks are soft against the door, yet they manage to have every hair on your body standing to attention. you’re quick to let him in, itching to get him inside and away from prying eyes. this is clandestine, secret, could even feel somewhat sacred once it’s over, and the last possible thing you could ever need is for another soul to know what you intend to do with lando, what you intend to let him do to you.

“hey.”

“hi.”

you stare at each other.

he steps forward. you don’t move away. he takes it as an invitation to close the space entirely, so close that, there it is again: oldspice, except this time it’s mixed with something fresh, shower gel you guess, sea salt. his curls are crisper than they were a few hours ago, still damp from the shower he must have just taken.

“what changed your mind?” he asks.

“i was feeling generous.” you deadpan. he bites back a laugh.

“generous, huh?”

“very.”

“considering your alleged dry spell, i’d say i’m the generous one, no?” his voiced is edged with something dark, dropped a few octaves. you could absolutely squirm under his gaze, but you hold strong.

“you know where the door is if that’s how you’re gonna be.” you coo, mocking his seductive undercurrent. all he does is flash his teeth, grinning cheekily, his way of accepting your challenge, your attitude.

“i think you want me to stay, honey.”

honey. you fear it works on you. the gap closes even further, you fear it’s your doing.

“you’re only getting this opportunity because i invited you here.” your resolve is slipping. you’ve admitted that you want him in your pathetic bid to hold the power, when the truth is, you want him to pounce on you, strip away every layer and barrier and make you see stars, feel euphoric.

“okay, honey, whatever you say.” he chuckles, cruel and taunting. “so, how dry of a spell has it been? wanna know what i’m working with.”

lando touches you then, lightning shooting down your arm as he traces from your elbow down to your fingers, featherlight, barely there, a ghost of a touch that haunts you so deliciously. your fingers intertwine. you initiate it, but really, it’s his fault. this is all his fault.

you try and laugh, but it sounds broken, quivering it’s way out from your dry throat.

“dry.”

he just stares at you, expectant. he needs to hear more, needs to know. he craves details about you, has ever since you body slammed him outside his garage - leading to some very covert instagram stalking on his behalf and his oh so convenient way of worming his way into a conversation with pierre when lando could see that the other driver was on his way over towards you. it’s pathetic, maybe, but he craves you the way one craves nicotine forever after just one puff of a cigarette. he has you, just for tonight, maybe longer if he gets this right, so he will know everything he needs to know so that he can touch you just how you need.

“i’ve only… it’s been a while.”

he sees right through you.

“you’ve only what?” he presses. he needs to know.

“i’ve only done this once.” you whisper. it’s the meekest he’s seen you. he loathes it.

“and was it good?” lando murmurs so attentively that you want to cry.

your fourth interaction with this man, and he has you melting.

“not really.”

“do you trust me?” his nose is bumping yours. you’re locked in, twitching. he has both hands on you, now, one still laced with yours, the other trailing up your arm, tempted to brush his fingertips against the taut skin of your neck.

how the fuck can i trust you? i don’t know you! what the fuck are we doing? what the fuck am i doing?

that’s not what you say, though, because for some reason, you are so sickeningly comfortable and okay that you worry that something is wrong with you.

“yes.”

“then this time will be so, so much better. i’ll make it all better.”

when his lips meet yours, you’re surprised at how good it immediately feels. you don’t know what you were expecting, but his lips are plush, enveloping yours softly, but firm enough that you sink into him, allowing him to cement that grip on the side of your neck that he’d been taunting you with.

he kisses you like he’s sure of everything, like this is second nature and you’ve done it a thousand times. you want to kiss him a thousand times. why it’s so good, you’re not sure, but it gives you the confidence to lean into him, grab the bottom of his hoodie in your hands and tug.

“be patient, ‘n i’ll make you feel so good, honey, i promise.” he mouths down your cheek, nipping at your jaw, down your neck until he finds that special spot below your ear. he nibbles there, lapping his tongue over your sensitive skin like he already knows your body. you want to see just how familiar with you he can get. “but,” he punctuates the word with a sharp bite. you both dread and revel in the mark it will leave. “you have to behave for me, okay?”

his words are whispered against the shell of your ear and you shiver, eyes rolled back already. you wonder if he’ll get them to do a full three-sixty rotation in your skull.

“‘kay.” you breathe, mindless, floating away. it’s already better than last time.

“‘kay’?” he mocks. “no, honey, you gotta promise me. can you promise me?”

“promise.” you lock eyes, conveying your obedience. his eyes blow wide, pupils dilating to shove away the mysterious bluey green. his teeth grit. he knows he’s hit the jackpot.

“good girl.”

you’re stripped naked, mustering all of your energy to shove his clothes off, his hoodie flying away, his sweats kicked into a faraway dark corner. you’re left naked, him in some increasingly tight boxers, and you tumble into the freshly made bed. he slinks over you, crawling on his hands and knees, predator stalking prey.

he stains your inner thighs purple, tugging your legs over his shoulder, huge hands warm and rough as they manoeuvre your malleable body to his liking. lando presses kisses to every inch of skin, dragging his tongue over your bare flesh before he spreads you open, sucking and tasting and savouring. he moans into you, open and wet, and it ricochets off of every nerve ending, sending your body taut and arched, catlike. you’re trying to get away, whilst simultaneously grinding yourself closed to him, feeling that broad, sharp nose of his bump messily and firmly against your clit, an ache spreading through your pelvis that makes you shake and shake and whine his name out to the gods.

“taste like heaven.” lando’s words are simple, straightforward, make you bite your lip so hard you taste something metallic seeping over your tongue. “so tight, even around my tongue,” he slurs, drunk, lost. “gotta stretch you out for me. that okay, honey?” you can just about make it all out, and you nod furiously, pleading.

his teeth graze your clit.

“say please.”

“putain! please!” you kick your feet out when all he does is laugh into your wet flesh.

one finger grazes through your folds, parting them and collecting a mess of your slick. he looks transfixed as it drips down his finger.

honey.

you watch him watch how he opens you up, revelling in the utter fascination painting his features, pussy drunk and curious, transfixed.

“can’t believe you’ve never been fucked right.” he coos, breathless, genuinely shocked. you quake under his skilful hands and his awful, sinful, dirty mouth.

“more.” you plead, not ashamed by your crude begging. you’re a mess for him already, might as well get the full experience.

“think you can take another?”

a second finger slides in, rocking against your walls, testing the waters. you writhe, meeting his movements with shallow thrusts of your hips.

“faster, i need- mon dieu! anything, lando, please just-“ he really goes to town then, scissoring your dripping cunt open, curling and twisting and grinding the two digits so deep that you see white, hazy chocolate coloured curls and deep, glazed over eyes.

“that’s it, honey, there you go. so fucking pretty for me.” lando whispers the last bit, awestruck, and you’d take the time to wonder why if you weren’t on the verge of tears, overstimulated, ears ringing. your orgasm crashes over you like a surge of electricity, tearing through your body like it’s trying to escape and take cover. it’s so strong that you’re damp everywhere, sweating and crying and so fucking shocked that it can feel like this.

“lando.” you pant, mouth dry, voice hoarse.

“you did so good. was it okay?” he rubs small circles into your hips, eyes flitting between your own and where you’re still leaking for him. he manages to tear his eyes away, like a trance has broken, snaking up your body until he’s laying next to you, propped up on his elbow. he hovers over you, raking his eyes over the rising and falling lines of your body.

“pretty good, i guess. didn’t know you had it in you.” you tease, smirking lazily up at him.

you want to keep staring at him but your vision is blurring as your eyes begin to droop. what a long day it’s been.

“high praise coming from you.” lando reasons, laughing lightly. he strokes over your hipbone and you jolt, curling around onto your side. his skin is warm against yours, soft and smooth, and you dare you press your even closer, shy, as if he wasn’t just buried mercilessly between your legs. you hum in response, spent and languid. “you wanna get some sleep?” he asks.

“we didn’t… i mean, you didn’t…” you trail off, awkward, gesturing towards his middle.

lando just smiles.

“guess i’ll just have to come find you in monaco.”

you flush, cheeks burning as you consider the fact that you’re gonna be in the same country, a very small, very private city. who knows what could happen?

you fall asleep quickly, easily, far too comfortable next to the british driver. if you were to ask, he’d say he left immediately. he watches the way you breathe far too intently, ever so slowly pulling his clothes back on. he doesn’t know how long passes, but what he does know is that he can’t wait to have you like this again.

5. some guy

you sink into the oversized armchair, sitting back and letting kika and alex talk, nattering backwards and forwards about nothing in particular. or, maybe you’re just zoned the fuck out.

you can’t stop thinking about the way he touched you, your body littered with evidence, dark purple bruises turning a stale green between you thighs. when you woke up, you initially wondered if it was all a dream, but the dull, sweet ache thrumming through your bones told you just how real it really was. you went through the motions, embarrassed momentarily before deciding to just embrace it, try to bask in the way he’d made you feel: sexy and desirable and electric.

it was just a shame that it had to be him. that’s what you kept telling yourself, at least.

kika’s nodding along to a story alex is telling about leo, about to respond with a similar anecdote about simba but she gasps instead, almost spilling her americano all over herself. this gets your attention and you open your mouth to ask her is she’s okay, but she beats you to it.

“my god, what is that?” she chokes, staring at you. or, well, your neck.

you flush, heated, blood pooling in your cheeks.

you’d tried to cover it up, seriously, applying layer after layer of concealer and strategically placing your hair in such a way that you prayed it wouldn’t be noticeable, but nonetheless, there it is, clear as day. red raw skin tinged purple around the seams, branded into your neck like some kind of public humiliation ritual.

fuck you, lando fucking norris!

you avert eye contact, leaning away from alex who is now making a point of leaning in, going as far as to push your hair back so she can get a closer look.

“oh my gosh!” she squeals, giggling with kika.

you take a long, slow gulp of coffee, not caring that it burns your tongue.

“who was it? holy shit, was it lando?” kika whisper shouts and you officially drop dead on the spot, watching her connect the dots so easily.

“oh jesus, no! no!” you lie, feigning offence, your leg bouncing shamefully under the table. the two girls eye you suspiciously, but you assume you’ve played it off well.

“who, then?” alex asks. you wonder if kika has told her about yesterdays interaction.

“just- i don’t even know, some guy.” you huff, playing with a loose thread hanging from your jumper.

“some guy? after what you were saying yesterday? okay, babe.” kika teases sarcastically. “no, cmon, who?” she pouts, leaning in as well.

“just… someone.” you squeak, unable to look up at them.

“okay, well, we will find out eventually.” alex wiggles her eyebrows and you stick your tongue out, mock-glaring at your sister in law.

“no, the fuck you won’t.” you try and fake some confidence, scrapping for a mere shred of control.

yes, the fuck they will, because when you leave for the bathroom, you leave your phone unlocked like the utter fool you are. god has it out for you, you figure, because that’s when he chooses to strike.

the message lando sends you is short and sweet, and alex chokes on a piece of cake when kika starts gesturing wildly at the notification that pops up on your screen.

for when you’re lonely at home and can’t find anyone to fuck you right.

attached is his address.

they don’t breathe a word when you come back, but they share a knowing smirk when they catch you smiling at your phone, and again when you ask if either of them have anything with a higher neckline that you can wear for the race.

youruser has just posted on instagram:

tagged: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux

liked by: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris and others

youruser: race day, big slay

user1: LEO!!!

alexandrasaintmleux: prettiest girl in the world

user45: lando what are you doing here 🤔

6. manners

“are you even listening to me right now?” charles scoffs, finishing off his drink out of annoyance. your eyes snap back to him, the thumping music vibrating through your body.

“sorry, just tipsy.” you purse your lips, attempting to lock back in on whatever he’s saying, but it’s hard. it’s hard, because sprawled out in a booth across from where you stand at the bar, lando is watching your every move.

you’ve managed to avoid him thus far, no contact since you’d liked the DM he’d sent you a few weeks back. you’d be lying through your teeth if you said you didn’t think of him and what you’d done at literally every waking moment, so the way he’s watching you, hooded eyes sparkling under the strobe lights, has you squirming. it was easier to tell yourself that, surely, it wasn’t that good when he wasn’t right in front of you in a half unbuttoned shirt. the navy blue fabric is wrapped around his body deliciously, taut where his muscles are, the colour popping against his tanned skin - which you can practically feel writhing against yours.

you wish charles would go away so you could crawl into that booth and commit public indecency.

speak of the devil, your brother seems to have clocked that you have zero interest in what he has to say so he huffs, ordering another round for the table and telling you he’s going to find alex. he shuffles away and you subtly search for the british drivers mindful eyes, but he’s disappeared, left his entourage in the booth. you swallow disappointment that makes you feel pathetic, head in your hands against the bar top, but the lightest brush of fingers against your waist drags you out of your spiral. you know immediately.

“did you dress like that for me, or are you just a slut?” he’s grinning, light and teasing, surprisingly sober, tipsy at most, just like you.

“i could ask you the same.” you smirk, blatantly eyeing his exposed chest. he shrugs, leaning in.

”might have left an extra button undone just for you.” lando winks and you hope the lights hide the way you flush.

“sure you did, just for me and every other girl in here.” you challenge. his eyebrows furrow.

“nope. just for you.” his eyes darken, just a tad but enough that you notice. your mouth runs dry. “you never replied to me.”

“not true, i liked the message.” you smile coyly, sipping your drink. your lipstick smears against the rim of the glass and you watch him stare at the print, tongue wetting his lips.

“you are something else.” he shakes his head, pushing his curls back. it could be frustration, but he still seems at ease, like he’s enjoying your combative nature. you smile into the glass, hoping he doesn’t notice. he does. “how much have you had to drink?”

“this is my second.”

“you sober enough for me to take you home?” lando’s face is mere inches away from yours now, and you can feel the pull, desperate to crawl into the space that still remains and lose yourself there.

“depends.”

“on?” you truly exasperate him, but he thinks he loves it.

“if you’re actually gonna fuck me this time.” you casually take another sip, playing it off as if your crude words had no impact on you.

lando’s eyes widen at your bluntness, and so does his grin.

“meet me by the valet.”

lando leaves, and you quickly follow, downing the remnants of your glass and touching up your lipgloss.

alex watches from her booth, and pulls out her phone.

to: kika gomes

oh, she’s deeeeefinitely sleeping with lando!!!

pietra leans towards her boyfriend, close enough that he can hear her over the noise.

“isn’t that charles’ sister?” she shouts, pointing to the bar, where lando is stood.

max analyses the way he’s stood, leant against the bar, nice and close to the ferrari drivers little sister. he knows that look on lando’s face, and he knows it far too well. max pinches the bridge of his nose.

“oh for fuck sake.”

it’s weird, sitting with him in silence. he’s only had half a drink, able to drive back through the winding hills to his apartment. you stare out the window, mostly, when you aren’t staring blatantly and curiously at lando. you can see the sea, glistening under the moonlight and you wish you could focus on that instead, but he’s there, and you have to admit - begrudgingly, albeit - that he’s stunning. his hands wrap around the wheel tauntingly, as if he’s trying to convey how he’ll touch you, all consumingly. your thighs press together, your fingers clasping together as if you’re subconsciously stopping yourself from reaching out for him prematurely.

as if he can hear your thoughts, his palm smoothes over the skin of your bare thigh, right where your dress has ridden up, without a second thought, nothing tentative about the way his digits curve around your skin.

“so, you’ve been thinking about that night, then?” he breaks the silence, glancing over at you.

“what makes you say that?” you whisper, not even meaning to but the silence had been so heavy.

“well, you only left with me on the condition i’d bend you over.” he laughs loud, whole and warm. you fight it, just for a second, but then you join in, giving in to him. you can’t help it, he makes it easy.

“you got me.” you concede, rolling your eyes. without realising it, you’ve relaxed completely into his touch.

he pulls off of the road and into a private garage. you breath hitches.

“do you want a drink or…?” lando gestures blindly towards his kitchen, walking further into the apartment.

he’d spent the elevator ride up to his place leant against the opposite wall, taunting, making you wait. he’d let himself look at you, totally unabashedly, raking his eyes over your frame, meekly tucked into the corner, shy under his intense gaze but frustrated by his lack of urgency.

“i’m good. didn’t come here for a tea party.” you hope your words push his buttons. they must, because he turns on his heel, facing you again, suddenly towering over you.

his eyes are steel, face serious, and you don’t know what to do. you’ve never seen him look at you like this.

“i think we need to work on your manners.” he speaks condescendingly, down at you, and if you weren’t so needy, hadn’t been waiting weeks, you’d turn around and leave just to really prove his point. but you stay planted, looking up at him through mascara coated lashes, softening you gaze until you’re sure you’re conveying faux innocence.

“maybe we can work on them in your bedroom.” you truly don’t know where you get this confidence from, he’s the second man to have ever touched you so intimately, but he’s magnetic, drawing you out of your own head and straight towards him.

he tugs you towards him, kissing you messily, right there in the dim light of his kitchen, pawing at your waist hungrily. his tongue brushes your and you moan, humming into his mouth at the faint taste of mint and vodka, long gone but you can taste everything. his thick fingers find your ass, hoisting you up until you have no option but to wrap your legs around him, your dress scratching at your thighs the higher it rides up, but all it does it turn you on more, rough sensations on sensitive skin.

lando walks you blindly to his bedroom, never breaking the kiss, and you wonder how many times he’s done this to get it down to muscle memory. the thought makes you nauseous, drags you mercilessly right back into your head, and you pull away, your lips barely brushing his.

“why me?” you breathe, panting into the shallow space where your mouths have parted.

“what?” he whispers, confused.

“why do you want to do this with me?” you have to check, past insecurities rising to the surface like bile in the back of your throat. he looks genuinely baffled and you feel foolish for ruining the moment.

“why wouldn’t i? you’re gorgeous and-“ he cuts himself off, his eyes glazing over. the demeanour slips and you’re stuck, his arms still tight around you, holding you close in the empty space at the foot of his bed.

“what?” you whisper.

“you’re part of the same life.” the way he looks at you says words that he can’t.

words that will sound too shallow and too selfish and too meaningless, even though you will understand them because you’re here for similar reasons, and therefore, they will mean too much.

you can’t take things from him. you can’t fake it. you can’t break him into a million pieces when he finally discovers that you want him because of what he can give you.

you nod once, firm.

“i get it.” you smile sadly. lando wants to know more. he can find out some other time. a moment of clarity passes between you. “kiss me, again?” you ask. he delivers immediately.

kisses you all the way onto the bed. kisses you while he helps you take off your heels, while he drags the zipper of your dress down. you both feel safe now, understood, and that really moves things along.

“so pretty.” he mutters into your skin, shedding you of your tight dress.

your shaky fingers work over the buttons of his shirt, peeling it off of his broad shoulders, taking in the sight of him all over again. you’re left in your panties, braless already, and he gawks down at you, like he’s seeing everything for the first time. it makes you feel powerful.

“can you hurry up?” you writhe, arching into his touch. he smiles, covering his body with yours and pressing a kiss to your lips. his fingers slide over the curves of your body, finding the band of your underwear and toying with it.

“want me to take them off?” he purrs, trailing his lips down your jaw to just below your ear.

“now.” you beg, eyes fluttering closed as his warm breath pricks at your skin, teeth nibbling. “no marks.” you whine, flashing back to the weeks over knowing looks and attempts at covering the last one up.

“what were we saying about manners, hm? gonna need to start hearing some ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’, okay, honey?” he bites down again, harder this time, and you squirm underneath him, your soft belly moulding to each dip of his abs.

his fingers dip into your panties, finding your clit amongst your wetness. you just about bite back a moan, but you can’t help but roll your hips into his hand, his fingertips gliding easily through your folds.

“va te faire foutre.” you mutter, teeth gritting at the pleasure and his words. go fuck yourself.

“i’ve lived in monaco long enough to know what that means.” lando whispers, pinching your clit once before plunging a finger inside of you.

you hiss, head thrown back, the feeling of him smiling against the hickey bittersweet. and to think, it was almost healed. you can’t help but keen into his touch.

“more,” you pant. “please.”

“you learn fast.” lando approves, and quickly fulfils your request, adding another finger.

they flex inside of you, grinding deeper and deeper until you’re whimpering his name and leaking down his wrist. your arms wrap around him, nails digging in to his smooth back, his ropey muscles tensing under your firm touch. his thumb bumps your clit, over and over, pushing you to the precipice, so close you can taste the impending orgasm on your tongue.

“it’s so good, merci, god.” you sound wrecked already, and lando can’t wait to see how far he can push, how far apart he can take you.

“that other fucking loser didn’t know what he had, jesus, you’re so fucking hot.” he rasps, admiring the rise and fall of your chest, how your breasts bounce with every thrust of his fingers, the way his hand is glistening in the low light of his bedroom. his words are your undoing, the awe in his voice sending sparks shooting through every nerve ending.

“lando, ‘m gonna… putain!” the way you switch languages is sexy to him, tells him how scrambled your brain is, and he twitches in his boxers. when you cum, it’s as gorgeous and as enticing as the first time, and he jolts against your hip, desperate to get inside of you finally.

“you’re so beautiful.” he groans, pulling his fingers from your entrance. he stares blindly at the mess you’ve made on them, salivating, remembering the way you taste. it’s a no brainer for him, and he licks both digits clean, giving you just a moment to recover.

“i need you.” you whisper, your legs still spread, quivering slightly.

you pull him in once more, his covered crotch grinding against your slick and you cry out, the friction sending you into overdrive. his teeth dig into your shoulder, the sensation entrapping him, leaving him weak, ready to give you whatever you ask. he pushes his underwear away, and your eyes go wide.

“you can have me,” he grunts, running his hand over himself. “think you can take it?” he wets his lips and you think you could cum again at the sight of him. sweat slicked, tight curls falling over his eyes, lips licked pink and kiss swollen, hard and heavy in his own hand, body curved over yours possessively. you’re a simple woman, really.

“i think i can try.” you want to sound confident, but it comes out as a squeak.

he sits back on his knees and brings his free hand to cup your jaw.

“i’ll go slow with you, honey, okay? you can tell me to stop.” lando promises. “you sure you want this?”

you nod, pouting up at him.

“i want you, i can take it.” you manage through a deep breath.

the stretch is brutal, splitting you in half. all you can do is breathe, watching the way he watches you, and that’s what you hone in on, his pretty eyes watching where he’s filling you up. when he bottoms out, he stops for a second, scanning your face for discomfort.

“are you okay?”

“c’mere.” you coo, and he falls back over you, paws at your waist. “move, lando.” you plead.

it’s slow, deep, makes your toes tingle. you can feel each and every drag of him against your walls and it makes you dizzy, a knot twisting and tickling in your belly. your fingers are twisted around him, around his biceps, crumbling a little bit every time he flexes in your grip.

“oh, mon dieu.” you’re whimpering, legs wrapping around him like vines, tighter and tighter with every buck of his hips.

“‘s it feel good, honey? yeah? you’re so fucking tight for me.” lando chokes, licking over the sweat on your collarbone. “‘m i making it feel good?” he sounds so cocky, sexy, but there’s a soft edge around his words. it matters to him, how he’s treating you, this, a certain delicateness hanging around your intertwined bodies like a cloud.

“so good, lando, so fucking good.” the words scratch your throat raw, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“no, no, lemme hear you, pretty girl. can feel how close you are for me.” you can hear the edge to his voice, can tell the end is near for both of you, the way his words wobble despite his best attempts at hiding it. “need you to look at me, and i need to hear you.”

you don’t even realise until then that your eyes are shut, screwed up tight as the pleasure rolls through your body, flooding each and every one of your senses. you free your lip, and everything pours out, whines, raw slurs of his name.

“i’m so close.” he grunts, watching the way your face moves, hanging on to every micro expression, the way you battle to keep all of your attention on him.

“fill me up.” you urge, squeezing his hips between your thighs. his eyes widen, the request slowly registering, and he blinks away the voice in his head telling him to do it.

“you know i can’t.” he’s firm, sensible even if you aren’t.

“want it so bad, lan, please, wanna feel it.” you reason, cupping his face and pushing his curls back.

“not tonight.”

“yes, tonight. give it to me.”

“i said no, don’t be a fucking brat.” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut.

“know you want it.” you whisper, seductive and devious. you can see his resolve slipping, tightening around him.

before you can say anything else, your hands are scooped up, pinned above your head. he’s right over you now, your hips perfectly aligned, and he’s driving so deep that you swear you can feel him in your tummy. his thrusts resort to a harsh grind, digging into each other with every snap of his pelvis.

“you want it so bad? huh? fine.” he growls, forehead resting against yours. “want me to cum in you, fuck it all back in? yeah, honey? you gonna keep it all in for me?”

“whatever you want.” you promise, eyes rolling back in your head. “just- please, please do it.” you pant, mouth dry.

“that’s it, pretty girl, take it all for me.” he buries his face in your neck, nipping at your collarbone. “doing so good.” the words fan against your throat, hushed, leaving you warm from the inside out, brainless.

when you spill around him, it’s at the same time as he lets go, and he fucks you through your orgasms. you go limp beneath him, taking it, letting it all wash over you, letting him wash all over you. you feel like you can’t breathe, suffocating under the weight of him and the reality of what you’ve just done. again. for some reason, you don’t care, and decide that you’ll do this again and again, anytime he’ll have you. not that you’ll ever tell him that…

“fuck.” he exhales, rolling off of you carefully, but the overstimulation - and then lack thereof - makes you wince, and he strokes your hip gently in apology.

“that was better than i thought it would be.” you grin, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

“you know, these are starting to sound kinda backhanded.” he beams, laughing breathlessly, but just as he begins to relax into his bedspread, he remembers. “oh fuck, shit, we need a pharmacy!” lando bolts up so that he’s sitting, scanning the room blindly for his clothes. you giggle and he snaps his head towards you, panicked.

“no, lando, we don’t.”

“all of that ‘uh, fill me up, please lando you’re so sexy’ talk means that, yes we absolutely do! fuck, how much is plan b these days?” he’s spiralling now, tugging at his curls.

“first of all, i’m on birth control. second of all, i don’t sound like that, and most importantly, i did not call you sexy.” you smirk, stretching out your tight muscles.

“that’s the most important part? woman, you nearly killed me.” lando gasps, slumping back down into bed.

“‘m sorry, couldn’t resist playing with you a little. good to know we share a kink, though.” your smirk turns into a coy smile, and you swing your shaky legs out of the bed, your feet sinking into the plush rug.

“oh, yeah? what other kinks are you hiding from me?” lando sits back against the headboard, tucking his hands behind his bed. you have to look away, or else you’ll accidentally fall back into his bed.

“guess you’ll have to wait and find out.” it makes him quirk an eyebrow, a look of understanding settling over his face.

“so this is gonna be a regular thing, yeah?”

you’re putting your underwear back on when he says it, searching for your dress, but his words make you freeze. he sounds hopeful, and it makes your chest pang… wait, is that your heart?

“i don’t… i mean, as you unfortunately know, i haven’t done this before. i don’t know how this works.” you say it so earnestly, so innocently, that his whole face softens, awestruck and boyish.

“i want it to be a regular thing.” he says it gently, like he’s offering it to you, to the universe.

“okay. me too.” you whisper back, shy under his gaze.

“are you… like, do you think you’ll be sleeping with other people?” lando squeaks, doing a terrible job of playing it cool.

“for so many reasons, no.” you grimace. “but if we’re doing this then i wouldn’t want to anyway.” you say softly. your dress is back on now, but he has you flustered, and you can’t quite get the zipper.

“lemme help.” he offers, and he’s out of bed and before you in a matter of seconds. his calloused fingers graze your skin as he pulls the zipper together and up, adjusting your dress back into place. it feels so terrifyingly intimate, exciting, and you can’t bring yourself to move away. “i wouldn’t want to either.” he breathes the words quietly into the small space between you.

“okay.” you don’t even try to hide the way you beam, staring up at him.

“i’ll take you home, yeah?”

“yeah.”

7. worth it

and so, begins a clandestine affair, touches in the shadows, subtle glances, watchful eyes.

one of you calls, the other comes, sneaking through doors that neither of you should enter, leaving bars a few minutes apart, making up excuses to get out of plans.

there’s the time lando has you bent over the end of your bed, tears leaking into the mattress, slick everywhere. he’s so deep this way, hammering away at the special spot nestled within you that he’s become very familiar with. one of his hands is dragging your hips back to meet his thrusts, the other splayed out across your back, holding you down.

your phone rings. it’s alex. you were supposed to be a brunch twenty minutes ago. you groan out, frustrated in every sense of the word.

“answer it, honey.” lando grunts, pulling you towards him even harder. you whimper, shaking your head, words dying on your tongue. “go on, i know you can do it. wouldn’t want alex to worry, would you? let her know you’re okay.” he coos, condescending.

he’s so arrogant, full of it, and you like the challenge. you can’t let him win, can’t let him revel in how fucked out he has you, so against your better judgement, you grab the phone, fingers shaking as you answer.

“hi, love. i know, i’m late! ‘m sorry, i’ll be there soon!” you wince at the way your voice shakes. you hope she can’t hear the way you’re panting, or the sound of his hips hitting yours.

lando slows his hips, hitting deep at such a torturously slow pace that feels a million times better than it already did. your free hand flies back, swatting at him.

“where the hell are you? i was worried!” alex sounds relieved, but there’s something else in her tone that you can’t quite decipher.

“i’m on my way, i promise! i was with arthur.” you lie, throwing your younger brother into the line of fire. you know, for credibility. alex is silent for a moment.

“oh, okay. well, get here soon, please! love you!” and with that, she hangs up the phone. you release a breath you were holding, crying out when lando immediately speeds up again.

“i hate you.” you choke, grinding your hips into him. lando just scoffs, sliding a hand under your belly, flush against the mattress. he finds your clit, playing with it, urging you quickly towards your release.

“no, you don’t.” he laughs. “you better cum for me, pretty girl, i think you have somewhere to be.”

“i’m on my way, i promise! i was with arthur.”

alex has to bite back a laugh. she stares across the table, where arthur is having an avid debate with charles and joris. arthur, who had been with her and charles for hours.

“oh, okay. well, get here soon, please! love you!” alex hangs up the phone, giggling to herself. leo stirs in her lap.

“what’s so funny?” charles asks her. she shakes her head.

“oh, nothing, she just overslept.”

there’s the time where he has you hiked up on your kitchen counter, messy curls tickling the insides of your thighs. he’s licking at you ravenously, dragging his tongue up and down, twisting around your clit in circles.

you’re tugging on his hair, holding him close to where you’re aching, dripping, slicking up the lower half of his face. he’s groaning into you, starved and desperate. it’s been a week since you’ve seen him, had him like this, the longest you’ve done without him since the first time you’d had sex. its untamed and needy and you fear what it means, the way you’re so addicted to one another.

you also haven’t seen your brother for a week, something you realise when you hear a key turn in the lock, down the corridor. you have seconds to react, the noise washing over you like a bucket of ice cold water. you squirm, pushing a very confused lando away, managing to kick him lightly in the head as you leap from the counter.

“mon dieu! fuck, i’m sorry!” you gasp.

“what the fuck is going on-“ you cut him off, slapping your palm over his mouth.

you glance around frantically, looking for a way out of this. there is but one option available.

“the balcony! just- fuck, get out there!” you shoo him over to the small window, begging him with your eyes. “please! i’ll get rid of him!”

you can hear footsteps approaching. you’re sweating now, smoothing down your skirt and your hair anxiously.

charles calls your name, rounding the corner and walking into your kitchen, just as you pull the window closed again.

“shit, you scared me!” you fake, clutching your chest. you can feel your heart hammering.

“i did knock, sorry!” charles looks you over, scanning the kitchen. “are you okay?”

“yeah, fine, sorry, i must have been out of it. i’m in the middle of an assignment.” you lie.

“oh okay, well i can always go…” he’s looking at you weirdly, and you fear he knows something, that he can tell.

“can we get dinner tonight? i’ll book.” you offer, scratching your neck.

“yeah, that’s great. are you sure you’re okay?” your brother asks, turning to leave.

“promise, yeah, i’m just so busy with work, deadlines and all that.” you wrinkle you nose, feigning distaste.

“well you can tell me all about it later, okay? love you.” charles says sincerely, smiling.

“love you too.” you call, listening for the sound of the door closing behind him.

you immediately rush for the window, throwing it open, peeking your head out. lando stands with his back against the wall, shivering in nothing but a t-shirt. you look at him sheepishly.

“get back in here.” you tell him, standing back to give him space to crawl back through. “‘m sorry.” you giggle.

“you’re lucky you’re worth it.” lando teases, stalking towards you and wrapping you in his arms. his skin is cold against yours, and you huff, try and push him off. “hey, i’m cold!” he pouts.

“you know, you’re lucky you’re worth it, i could have just let him murder you.” you reason, looking up at him. your hands slide around him, returning his embrace, warm hands skating up under his shirt.

“you wouldn’t.” he says simply. “i’m way too good in bed.”

“you keep telling yourself that, norris.”

“i don’t need to, you tell me more than enough.”

lando leans down to kiss you, then, nothing all that unusual but it always feels like a step too far, intimate in a way that you two usually aren’t. you kiss him back regardless, because really, you love it. he always tastes minty, divine when you let him lick into your

mouth.

“i believe we were in the middle of something.” he whispers.

“remind me.” you breathe.

and there’s also the time where he’s fucking you in his drivers room, the massage table thudding dully against the wall with every hard thrust.

his race suit is pulled down just enough, your dress bunched around your hips, and he’s slamming into you mercilessly.

the whole thing was a blur, really; you’d always vowed that you would never have sex at a race track, but that promise was old news, now, broken the very second you caught the way he was staring at you. his eyes were hard, unreadable, jaw clenched as he glared at the man talking to you. you were just being friendly, catching up with franco, but lando wouldn’t have it, not after such a shitty race. one harsh snap of his neck towards the mclaren motorhome had you quickly excusing yourself. you knew what it meant.

“you don’t talk to me at the track but you let him?” lando growls, rutting into you wildly. you cling onto the damp material of his racesuit, head thrown back.

“was just saying hello.” you gasp out, opening your eyes to look up at him. he’s staring down at you, angry. it’s hot.

“i don’t wanna see you talking to him. you see how he was looking at you? fucker should know who you belong to.” he hisses, sliding his hand between your legs. “you’re gonna cum for me when i say, okay? and you’re gonna be nice and loud, honey. no holding back.”

“lando i’m-“

“when. i. say.” he cuts you off, punctuating each order with a snap of his hips.

all you can do is take it, dripping all over him. you can hear it, the wet squelch of him filling you up.

“should mark up this pretty neck, yeah? let everyone know that you already belong to someone.”

you barely register what he’s saying, but the words leave you hot, pushing you even closer to the edge and you clamp down around him.

“squeezing me so tight, bet you’ve wanted me all day, huh, honey? saw you looking at me earlier, pretending like you weren’t when i caught you. couldn’t just asked and i would’ve fucked you right then.” lando grunts. you wail out, thrashing against the makeshift bed and he nods, letting you know it’s okay.

“that’s right, pretty girl, that’s it. been so good letting me have you. cum for me, baby.”

baby.

it’s the first time he’s ever called you that. it’s the final push you need.

he collapses into you as he finishes, sweaty curls plush against your bare shoulder. you’re both panting, spent, basking in the moment of silence.

“thank you.” he whispers, sealing it with a kiss against your neck. it tingles, a foreign feeling settling in your belly, shooting through your veins.

“you drove really well.” you reply, quiet. his breathing halts, a self deprecating laugh filling the room.

“don’t do that.”

“what?”

“act like you were watching my race. charles have a great drive, that must have been a lot more interesting.”

“maybe, but i was watching you.”

your words hit him hard. he can’t help but kiss you. you swallow a moan, and a whole heap of feelings that you’re too scared to tackle.

“you better go. will i see you in brazil?”

“yeah, lando. you will.”

youruser just posted on instagram:

tagged: francisca.cgomes

liked by: alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, charles_leclerc and others

youruser: hola chica 🤭

francisa.cgomes: my love my loveeeee

user21: once again i am asking. why are you here lando? 👀

user56: stop inventing!

alexandrasaintmleux: my beautiful girlies

user66: icon mother slay incredible

PART TWO IS HERE!

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239

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devil-in-hiding · 5 months ago

Text

John Price wouldn’t consider himself a possessive man. Never felt the need to keep a tight leash on former lovers, more so he would call himself protective, obviously.

However if you were to ask his men, which he advises you to not give those muppets the time of day, they would tell you he is possessive over what he deems as his.

Which includes you. You are the most constant thing in his life besides his duties and the team. You keep his head straight, at his side with a glass and a cigar, ushering him over to collapse onto his office’s couch on nights he feels as though if he types one more word his head might actually explode.

“I need to-“

“I will finish typing up this report, YOU will relax. You have bags under your eyes.” Never taking no for an answer, and he always gives in. It gives him a chance to admire you, the comfortable silence the two of you sit in whilst you type away, muttering to yourself as you go over his notes.

It’s one of the little things he adores about you, always seeming to find you having a conversation with yourself as you tend to whatever task he had asked of you, or, when you indulge them, whatever Soap and Gaz begged you to do for them before Price found out.

And that’s where it starts. If he finds you working on something he assigned to those idiots, he does not expect to find HIS pretty girl doing it. He has made it clear to you, multiple times, that you don’t have to do it just because they sweet talked you into it. Oh and help any young solider that tries to treat you as a glorified errand girl. One young man made the mistake of barking an order at you, the water was running low and he had seen you talking to Ghost, and you just about jumped out of your skin when the guy all but yanked you away, missing the way Ghost stiffens (he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, ever, but he also knows Price is watching, always.)

“You deaf or somethin’ you daft girl? I told you we needed-“

“Let go of her. Now.” Price’s growl has both of you spinning around, and he glares down at the recruit, who cowers.

“I was just asking her-“

“She is not a bloody errand girl. Now, I said let go of her.” His voice drops, and the recruit drops your wrist as though you had burnt him. “Captain Price-“

“A hundred laps. Get to it before I up to one fifty.” He barks, and the young man scurries away, eyes wide and Ghost watches the way John gently lifts your wrist, inspecting it.

“He didn’t hurt you now did he pretty? Bloody fuckin’ muppet, should make him scrub the toilets.” He mutters, tracing his finger over a vein.

“I’m okay John, really. I think you scared him enough as it is.” You smile, falling into step behind him as he strides towards his office. “Let’s get you away from these idiots.”

“Yes sir.”

#captain john price #john price cod #john price x reader #call of duty #cod x reader

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snoopyracing · 10 days ago

Text

grapes and good fortune // ln4

pairing: lando norris X reader

word count: 4.7k

warnings: cursing and alcohol use

includes: friends to lovers, mutual pining, and fluff

summary: when your plan to find love on new year's eve doesn't work a certain someone may just fix those plans.

a/n: surprise! here's a cute little lando nye fic for you! it was so fun to write and i hope you all enjoy :)

masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It’s not the end of the world to be single. You’ve gone your whole life technically being single– each guy you’ve had a thing with never resulted in a full fledged relationship. It never really seemed to bother you that much, you’d learned to be more independent and learned that your time is in fact more valuable than men think. Though, as the years passed and your friends started to get into serious relationships you couldn’t help but feel a little left behind.

You knew everyone’s time would come and seriously you were in your early to mid twenties – you still had a whole lifetime ahead of you. But the third wheeling you seemed to be a professional at by now was starting to get embarrassing. Also, holidays just really seemed to suck while being single. You knew there was more to life than being in a relationship, but god dammit you’re a human. You crave love and affection and no matter how independent you are– you still want to love and be loved.

Your friend group had unsuccessfully tried setting you up with more guys than you could count. Each one you really did try and give a chance, but there was nothing there. You didn’t think you had high standards by any means, but if you didn’t feel anything with these guys then why waste your time?

“You went on how many dates this month and none of them piqued your interest?” Your friend grills you as the two of you are sitting on the balcony of your apartment. You’d come back from another unsuccessful date and decided to drown your sorrows with a bottle of wine and a yapping session.

“Genuinely think there might be something wrong with me at this point.” You complain as you sip the sweet wine in your glass.

“There isn’t anything wrong with you.” The two dates a week for the past month say different, but you weren’t going to actually disclose that number to her. “Maybe your heart has already laid claim to someone else?”

“I think I would know if I was in love with someone.” She doesn’t say anything, but the way she inconspicuously sips her wine is telling you what she’s wanting to say. “Not this again.”

She puts her hands up in defense all while having a shit eating grin on her face. “I didn’t even say anything, but you immediately assuming that’s who I’m talking about says it all.”

“I’m not in love with Lando.”

Yes you were.

“I mean he’s one of my closest friends and it would just make things weird. He also for sure does not look at me in any way other than platonic. He’s got models flocking to him and literally thousands of other girls– I couldn’t compete.” Your friend remains silent once again as she sips her wine and watches the scene in front of her unfold. “Ok– just because I drunkenly admitted last year that I might possibly have a little tiny miniscule amount of feelings towards him does not mean I’m in love with him.”

“Yes it does.” Your friend replies without missing a beat.

“No it doesn’t” You say with a huff.

“Y/N, babe. You don’t see what everyone else sees and maybe your brain is trying to protect itself from the small chance of destruction, but you two are so in love it’s actually ridiculous.”

“I don’t think he’s looking for a relationship right now. If this season so far is any indication of what next season is gonna be like, do you really think he’ll want a serious relationship to juggle too?” You’d chugged the last bit of wine in your glass and immediately filled it back up.

A loud scoff comes from your friend. “With some girl he just met? No. You are a whole different story though. You two have history and are quite literally each other’s person. Two peas in a pod. Match made in heaven.”

You didn’t understand why your friend was so adamant about Lando and you getting together. What if it ended in flames and your friend group is stuck having to play children of divorce? You don’t want that.

“Do you hear yourself right now? I think you’ve had too much wine because that’s not true.”

She sits up on the edge of the wicker couch with an annoyed expression painted across her face “Do you hear yourself? I’ve never seen someone deny themselves happiness like you.”

“I don’t think I have actual feelings for Lando though. I really think it’s just because we are the only two single people in our friend group and it’s like I feel obligated to somehow have feelings for him. I just need to find the right person and whatever I may be feeling about Lando will go away.”

If someone could professionally roll their eyes your friend would be a pro. “You’ve already found the right person though!”

Before you can argue back for the hundredth time tonight the familiar tune of an incoming facetime call fills the air. Your phone that’s sitting on the glass coffee table lights up and Lando’s face fills the screen. You glance over at your friend who’s got a smirk on her face that could rival the Cheshire Cat.

“Speak of the devil.” She laughs.

You let it ring, fully knowing that if you answer it your friend will be insufferable the whole time you’re talking to him. You do send him a quick text to make sure everything's alright and of course he immediately responds with-

everything's all right.. just missed you is all.

Which has you locking your phone and stuffing it in the pocket of your hoodie. When you reach for your glass and realize it’s empty again you decide to just grab the bottle and drink straight from it.

“Drinking from the bottle because you’ve come to terms with how dumb you’ve been?” Your friend teases.

“Nope. It’s from having to deal with you all evening.”

Alright so maybe you did have actual feelings for Lando, but you were never going to fully admit that to your friend or anyone else for that matter. You didn’t want to risk ruining what you two already had, which was an amazing friendship. So for the following months you continue to go on an endless amount of dates and with each one that fails your friend's voice rings in your mind.

Maybe you wouldn’t be able to find someone else if you subconsciously compared every guy to Lando. They were never funny enough or charming enough or took themselves too seriously. In the end it was simply the fact that they weren’t Lando. So maybe your heart had already dug its claws into Lando, but you weren’t going to give up without one last battle.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

New Year's Eve. The final night of the year and the one party of the year that celebrates ends and beginnings. You’d hoped that with the plan you had for tonight that your streak of horrible dates would end and the next one would be the one. The trend of eating twelve grapes under a table at midnight on New Year’s Eve had been all over your social media. According to the internet if you were to do this you’d find love or your soulmate the following year– which was something you were so desperate for. So, your said plan was to bring some grapes with you and find a table to sit under.

As you were taking one last final look in the mirror a familiar British accent echoed through your apartment. “Are you almost ready?”

You quickly slipped on your heels and grabbed your bag off the dresser, but by the time you turned around there stood Lando, leaning against your doorframe with a slight smirk on his face. “Been waiting forever. It’s gonna be next year by the time we get out of here.”

His teasing, which usually always got a reaction out of you, was ignored. The sight of him had you frozen in your tracks for a moment. He had on a white button up, which he always looked good in, but it was the couple of undone buttons at the top and the necklace you got him for his birthday last year around his neck that got your attention. There was always something about seeing Lando in things you got him that made that funny feeling bloom in your stomach. Perhaps it was the fact that everytime he chose to wear them you knew he was thinking about you and that when he was away a part of you was always with him.

“Quit staring.”

You're knocked out of your trance and the blush that creeps onto your cheeks from getting caught is almost as embarrassing as being caught. “I wasn’t staring. I was admiring my good taste. Should have gotten one myself.” You try to play it off and push your way past him with what little amount of confidence you have at the moment.

“I’ll get it for you, then we can be matching.” Lando says as he follows behind you.

“I can buy it myself.”

“Yeah, but I’m still gonna get it for you anyways.”

You stop in the kitchen and grab the little bag of grapes out of the fridge. “I don’t need you to get it for me Lan.” You’re too preoccupied with figuring out how to fit everything into your small purse to see the utterly confused look on Lando’s face.

“Ok forget about the necklace. Why the hell are you bringing grapes with you?”

“Incase I get hungry.” You reply without missing a beat.

“There will literally be food at the party. I even made sure Max got those little cocktail sausages you like.”

And there he goes again, making those feelings you’ve tried and are still presently trying to push down come to the surface all because of some damn cocktail sausages. “I appreciate that Lan, but I’ve been on a grape kick lately. Just can’t seem to get enough of them.”

With your purse finally closed with the grapes securely inside, you head towards the door, more than ready to get to the party.

“I’ll text Max and tell him to get some grapes delivered.” Lando mumbles as he closes the door behind him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You’d never considered yourself much of a party girl, but there must have been something in the air tonight because you were living it up. From the dancing to the drinking and then to top it off somehow in the middle of everything you showed off your DJing skills with Lando.

Somehow you’d managed to unglue yourself from Lando for a moment and ended up in the kitchen among the various kinds of alcohol. You’re pouring the last bit of coke into your coke and malibu when Max comes up beside you.

“I see you finally escaped from Lando for a moment.”

An airy laugh emits from you. “Yeah, he’s been a little clingy tonight.” You state as you turn and lean back against the counter, facing the large crowd of people.

Max copies your actions, but not before grabbing a beer. “What are you talking about tonight? When he’s back home it’s like you two are conjoined at the hip.” Which was true, but you didn’t get to see Lando as much as you’d like, so you make the most of what you can. “Oh forgot to tell you, your grapes are in the fridge.” He motions towards the stainless steel appliance with his beer bottle. “Lando better pay me back. Do you know how much I paid to get that damn bag delivered? Absolutely insane.”

Your mouth forms an ‘O’ shape at Max’s words. “I heard him mention something about asking you to get some when we were leaving. I thought he was just joking.”

Max scoffs. “There is no such thing as Lando joking when it comes to you. Think he’d chop off his own arm to make sure you were happy. Hell if you needed an organ he’d be the first one in line to give you one.”

This time it’s your turn to scoff. “No he wouldn’t.”

“Why do you do that?” Max groans.

You narrow your eyes at him, confused as to what he was referring to. “Do what?”

“Act like he doesn’t think the world of you.”

Your mouth opens to reply, but no words come out. Instead you bring your cup to your lips and fill the void with your drink. What Max had said was true, but you couldn’t help it. You figured if you forced yourself to think that Lando didn’t care that deeply about you, then those feelings that you harbor for him wouldn’t rise to the surface. It didn’t help that his behavior recently had you thinking that perhaps he felt the same about you and when you have your mutual friends in your ear implying that to be true it just makes things that much harder for you.

“You probably haven’t even noticed that he’s been practically watching us talk this whole time have you?”

You can feel your heart rate start to speed up just at the thought of it. As your eyes scan the room they finally land on the Brit standing in the corner with some other people, but he’s not actually engaging in the conversation, he’s too busy staring back at you. Somehow from across the room you can still see those pretty mixture of blue and green eyes of his sparkle and when he realizes you're finally looking back at him a shy smile spreads across his face before he’s quickly looking away.

“Wish you two would stop dancing around each other and just admit what we all already know.” Max mumbles before taking a swig of his beer.

Maybe it’s the mixture of alcohol and the fact that you’ve once again got someone in your ear about Lando and you, but you can sense those feelings starting to claw their way back up and you aren’t sure if you can push them back down tonight.

“Ten minutes until midnight!” The DJ’s voice travels through the apartment and you’re sure Max will be getting some kind of fee taped to his door in the morning.

Max says something about talking to you later before exiting the kitchen and you realize with ten minutes till midnight that you’ve got to get your grapes and find a table to fit under. For the moment you push Lando to the back of your mind and focus on your very important task at hand.

Luckily for you Max had a decently sized dining table in his apartment so with your grapes in hand you crawled under the table, which thankfully was shielded by a tablecloth, and settled in for your feast.

Lando on the other hand had been searching for you everywhere since the ten minute announcement. He’d literally just seen you in the kitchen with Max and then when he looked back again you were both gone. He’d gone in the bathrooms, the bedrooms, the closets, every single place he could think you would be and it’s like you had vanished. Max had a large apartment, especially to be living in London, but it wasn’t that big to allow for you to not be found. His texts to you had gone unanswered and he began to think maybe you had left, but he knew you would have told him if you were leaving, so that theory went out the window.

When the five minute announcement hit his ears he began asking people if they had seen you and with each no or i think she was in the kitchen a while ago he received his hopes of finding you before midnight started to diminish.

He’d finally worked up the courage to tell you how he’d felt tonight. After years of holding himself back and not wanting to ruin what you two already had, he’d decided that life was too short and that he would come to regret not allowing himself to truly love you like he should. He knew you were the one and there wasn’t a bone in his body that didn’t think you didn’t feel the same. So, he was finally going to bite the bullet tonight and he wanted you to be the person he was kissing as the clock struck twelve. But if he couldn’t find you, then how in the world was he supposed to do that?

Lando was honestly starting to get worried over not being able to find you, screw the whole love confession at this point. What if something had happened to you? He’d been all over Max’s place countless times and he still couldn’t find you. With the official countdown echoing through the apartment he decided to just say fuck it and head to your place and see if you had gone home.

As he was heading to get his coat a familiar sparkly heel sticking out from under the dining table caught his attention. It was the same type of heels he’d seen you put on earlier and he did somewhat of a double take. He wondered if it was the couple drinks he’d had messing with him because why would you be sitting under Max’s dining table?

He crouches down and slowly lifts the table cloth up, unsure of what he’s going to find underneath it. Everyone is only getting louder and with five seconds until midnight what he finds staring back at him under the table is not at all how he expected his night to end up. There you are with your now empty bag of grapes on the floor and your cheeks stuffed full of said grapes. You resemble something of a chipmunk and Lando can’t help but laugh at you.

“What the hell are you doing down here?”

The excessively loud shouting of happy new year from everyone while noise makers and confetti fill the air distract both Lando and you for a moment. He didn’t think this is the position he’d be in right now, he figured he’d be in that crowd with his lips on yours like so many others right now. While you on the other hand didn’t think you’d be caught in such an embarrassing situation, not to mention you hadn’t even gotten all your grapes down, so this stupid thing was probably all for nothing.

His attention is back on you in no time and he really wants to know what you were doing. Were you that addicted to grapes that you had to hide under the table while you got your fix? If so, he may need to have a talk with you.

“Seriously, why are you hiding under the table stuffing grapes into your mouth?” He prods again.

Your mouth is still so full of the grapes that you can’t really talk and all you can manage to get out is leave while simultaneously trying to jab his leg with your heel. You were embarrassed and at this point scared you might choke on the grapes, and you’d rather go out in peace then have Lando cause a scene because you were choking.

“Ouch!” Lando yelps as your heel finally makes contact with him. You know he’s being dramatic because you barely even kicked him, but you would try anything for him to drop that table cloth and let you be. “Come on, come out from under there.” Lando grabs your arm and practically forces you to come out from under the table.

Luckily, everyone else was too preoccupied with still ringing in the New Year to see you crawl out and as you dust yourself off you're still chomping on the last couple grapes left. The party only seems to be getting crazier and you don’t really feel like staying here until the party inevitably ends at an ungodly hour in the morning, especially now that your plan for love has undoubtedly failed.

You finally swallow the last couple grapes and take a deep breath, the fear of choking and embarrassment now behind you. “Do you care if I leave? Not really feeling the party that much anymore.”

Lando doesn’t even question your request. “I’ll walk you home, let me grab our coats and tell Max we are leaving.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The cold England air hits you as you exit Max’s apartment building and you’re thankful that your place isn’t very far from his. It’s silent between Lando and you for some time, the sound of your heels on the pavement, fireworks in the distance, and other people celebrating are the only things you two hear.

“Can I ask you something?” Lando finally breaks the silence.

“Shoot.”

He takes a deep breath fully knowing once he opens this locked away side of him that there’s no going back. “Have you ever thought about us?”

You feel your heart skip a beat at his question, yet you try to remain cool and collected. “What do you mean?”

He stops in his tracks causing you to mimic his actions. “Like,” he motions between the two of you, “us.”

There’s not a doubt in your mind about what he’s referring to and yes you do think about the two of you. Yet your brain feels scrambled once you're actually confronted with the possibility of Lando feeling the same as you. You’d tried so hard to ignore the feelings, hell you’d tried something you saw on the internet to hopefully bring a different man into your life to finally squash those feelings. You’d just never thought you’d be in this position though and it’s throwing you into a whirlwind.

Lando isn’t sure what your silence means and he figures he’s already started, he might as well just fully admit it at this point.

“Fuck it. I told myself I was going to do this tonight and I’m not gonna chicken out again.” His cheeks are rosy from the cold and you can tell by the way his pretty eyes dart all around your face that he’s trying to figure out how to say what he wants to say. “I’ve got feelings for you.” He finally blurts out.

“No scratch that I’m in love with you Y/N. Think I have been for some time now. I’ve tried telling you how I felt for what seems like ages, but I’ve always been too scared to. I’ve been afraid that you wouldn’t feel the same and to me I’d rather bottle up my feelings and keep you in my life then tell you how I feel and lose you. But clearly I’ve grown tired of that and realized that the reward would be higher than the risk. You’re my person Y/N. I couldn’t imagine life without you and to have you be mine would make life that much better. So here I am baring my heart to you on some street in London on New Year’s Eve. I actually had a whole plan on how I was-”

His rambling while you loved most of the time was cut off by your desire to shut him up with your lips on his and you did just that. You grabbed him by his coat and pulled him into you, your lips crashing together. It takes him a moment to realize what's happening, but when his brain finally starts to work and he kisses you back it’s everything you could have imagined and more.

Kissing Lando is like heaven on Earth and the way his soft lips feel against yours has you wishing you would have just stopped being so stubborn and listened to your friends ages ago. His large warm hands come out of his pockets and he cups your face as he deepens the kiss, which has you feeling lightheaded and warm all over.

There’s fireworks being let off not too far away that light up the sky above you, but you’re too engrossed in each other to pay them much mind. It’s truly like a scene straight out of a movie and you know you’ll remember this moment forever.

You two finally pull away to breathe and it’s like you can see the world in a whole new way. The depressing grey landscape of London in the winter time suddenly looks like it was painted in technicolor and neither of you can wipe the cheek hurting grin off your faces. “So I guess you feel the same?” He asks.

“Yes Lando Norris, I’m in love with you too. Have been for a while and like you I didn’t want to ruin what we already have. To me there was no possible way that you felt the same and I hate rejection and the idea of losing you. So, I went on a million dates trying to find someone that would replace how I felt about you, but I guess you can’t replace someone who your heart has already laid claim to.”

You feel Lando intertwine your fingers with his and it’s like everything just feels right in the world.

“I’m glad we stopped being so stubborn and that I don’t have to see you out with all those random guys anymore.”

“Believe me, none of them even came close to comparing to you. It was like going on a date with a sack of potatoes most of the time.”

His infectious laugh fills your ears and you feel your heart swell. You can’t believe this was what you were depriving yourself of for so long.

The rest of the walk back to your apartment is spent walking hand in hand. All while little giggles escape each of you ever so often and Lando occasionally kisses you on the head or lifts your intertwined hands up to plant a kiss there.

“I have to ask again. It’s really been bugging me. What were you doing under that table?” Lando asks as you near your apartment building. A loud groan emits from you and there isn’t anything less that you would want to talk about than that. “Come on, just tell me!”

“Fine! I saw this thing on the internet that if you eat twelve green grapes under a table at midnight that it’s supposed to bring you luck in the love department in the New Year. Like you’d find your soulmate or something. I was so desperate to try and get over these feelings I have for you so what we had wouldn’t be ruined that I was willing to try anything.”

He’s silent for a moment and then he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face. “Well I’d say it worked didn’t it? You’ve found love and not to be overzealous, but I’d say your soulmate too.”

You’re stunned for a moment when you realize that yes, the grapes did work, just not in the way you planned. The universe had put Lando in your life years ago and for some weird reason had you wait this long to finally truly be in one another's lives, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Hell, you’d eat a whole package of grapes if that meant Lando and you got to be together in every lifetime.

“They did, didn't they? I guess almost choking to death was worth it in the end.”

“I mean I know I’m every woman’s dream, but you didn’t almost have to kill yourself to get my attention baby.”

You playfully slap his arm as he laughs at you. That big head of his was sometimes fully ego and you realized you were going to have to put up with it all the time now. “Oh shut up.”

“Yeah, but you love me.” He states before pressing a kiss to your lips, which has your mind feeling like TV static once again.

When you pull away and look him in the eyes there’s nothing but pure love staring back at you and you know that this is who is meant to be in your life, till the end. “More than you’ll ever know.”

The next morning you receive a group text from Max with Lando and you in it.

max: why have i found an empty bag with what looks to be a grape stem in it under my dining table??? i fully know it was one of you.

you: i don’t know what you're talking about.

lando: me either. no grapes were consumed by us last night. must have been someone else.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #mine #writing

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