Into You ♥️
Max Verstappen x Redbull Engineer! Reader
Oh baby, look what you've started, the temperature's rising and is this gonna happen? (Been waitin' and waitin' for you to make a move)
At 27, you've just been promoted to the role of Redbull's race engineer - a very impressive feat in motorsport for a young woman. There's just one issue though - you secretly had a massive crush on the driver you're meant to be guiding, Max Verstappen. Will you make it through the season before he catches on? (You hope so because goddamn, the HR team were a nightmare to deal with.)
Content includes: fluff, humour, Max and reader are simps for each other, sexual tension, pining, drunk confessions, 3.2k WC
Recently, you'd started having some issues at work. Okay, gun to your head, you'll admit it was more like a single issue - in the shape of a very attractive, 6 foot Dutch racing driver who occasionally had problems with anger management. Sure, it didn’t sound that bad, in fact, someone else would just sit back and enjoy the eye candy the F1 paddock provided! But to truly appreciate the full depth of your embarrassing problem, one needed to unpack all the lore behind it.
After graduating from a prestigious mechanical engineering master's program, you'd been ecstatic about getting to intern at Redbull's F1 racing team, department of aerodynamic design. You'd started working at the company at a very good time, because later that year, their top driver Max Verstappen claims his first WDC at age 24 - only 6 months your junior. A very impressive feat for such a young age - as you admire him from a distance in the garage workshop. And, super hot too, you thought cheekily, whoever wifed him up was sure to be a lucky woman.
Your own hard work hadn't gone unnoticed, and many higher-ups and sponsors alike were curious to see the team who had been behind the championship winning changes to the Redbull car. You'd risen very quickly in the ranks, from intern to permanent technical engineer and then last year to to the innovative research & development department, now involved directly with calling the big shots for what each version of the car would look like and coming face to face with Max for the first time in your career with Redbull.
Unlike the other drivers, Max was genuinely curious about your design process. The way he asked questions, thoughtfully listened to your long explanations and then would give you direct feedback about the exact issues he would have in the trial runs had made you flustered, especially from the full intensity of his blue eyes. No, seriously though, Shakespeare himself would have written poetry if he'd gazed into them. The TikTok creators certainly seem to agree, with all their ocean eyes edits. Not that you had any saved. Anyways, moving on-
You were on the quieter side but Max seemed to know just how to get through to you. It meant that your team had been able to design the most dominating car in F1 history - the RB23, and paired with Max Verstappen it was an unstoppable force, almost like you made it just for me, Max had said, smiling gorgeously at you like some GQ Sports model. You stared back at him incredulously, banana choc chip muffin halfway to your mouth, cause who the hell woke up looking like that, you two were wearing identical Redbull shirts but his looked like it had been personally tailored to fit that broad muscular chest and yours was giving oversized trash bag??
Honestly, you'd hoped that working in closer proximity would humanise him more and you'd lose this silly crush of yours the moment you saw him do some icky rich white boy move. Like maybe he’d donate to Donald Trump's anti vaccine campaign or say guys 🥺 Can’t go to Ibiza this weekend the yacht staff had an emergency, got caught in some Gulf war zone or something? Idk
But when he had knocked on your apartment door when you hadn't shown up to work in two days, and found you crying because your childhood dog had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer across the other side of the world and saying I’m sorry, I know it’s not that big of a deal, I’ll come back tomorrow I promise-
And instead of laughing like you’d expected, he’d cut you off, told you to pack a bag and then driven you all the way to his personal jet. You looked into his beautiful blue eyes while he earnestly begged you to use it so you could make it in time to say goodbye to your Arlo before your parents put him down tonight. And that’s when you realised you were doomed to be hopelessly in love with the younger man. (But also, you had a serious discussion with him about the extreme greenhouse gas emissions from private jet fuel use, we only had one planet, you would be happy to just fly first class instead-)
But when your mentor Newey announced his plans to leave Redbull this year, you had planned on following him - making the exec panic at the thought of losing two of their crucial engineers. They frantically thrown random promotions at you, praying one would stick - and Redbull twitter fans breathed a sigh of relief when you took interest in the role of race engineer and stayed in the company.
You'd been excited about becoming one of Checo's engineers, having trained under the current one for the last few months. But to your horror, one day you arrived on the paddock only to be promptly sat down at a meeting along with the two drivers and be informed that they'd had to switch some things around, GP had an emergency to attend and could you pretty please fill in for the role of Max's race engineer this weekend-
NOPE. You'd announced, standing up and slamming your hands on the table, then realising that might be a touch overdramatic as everyone questioningly looked at you. Why not? Christian Horner demanded suspiciously.
Um, because he's super hot, you fool?! How is a girl meant to focus with him whispering track feels really wet today in her headphones? Were the years of self control to just admire from a distance like a loser and not jeopardise your career just a joke to him?? You don’t blink as your boss stared you down, hoping he could pick up on the thoughts that you’re trying to telepathically communicate. The table remained silent, only interrupted by the noisy slurping of Checo's boba tea. You quickly changed tactics - well, Verstappen is the winning champion, he needs an engineer who has experience working alongside him during the race-
Alas, the object of your affections threw a well intended wrench in your escape plans by adding that you were the perfect person, then, since you'd worked together for years and understood his communication style. Unless - he paused, flashing those deadly baby blues at you - unless the issue is you don't want to work with me?
You'd lasted all of three seconds under his hurt gaze before admitting defeat and accepting the role, slumping down next to him and desperately praying you'd wake up a lesbian tomorrow morning. Max continued to sneak long glances at you through the meeting, leaning around you to grab a pen and then his phone and making you jump each time his strong arm wrapped around your small frame. Across the table, Checo thoughtfully chewed on his boba as he watched you two curiously. Ah, young love.
And to no one's surprise the pair of you had made a flawless team, you expertly guiding Max as your engineer instincts took over and him actually listening to your helpful instructions without his usual aggression over the radio. And so when GP announced that his 1 week emergency was now going to be a 6 month break, sorry! - it had been all too easy for Christian Horner to bestow the honour of being Max's primary engineer onto you.
So now, here you sat, before your 4th race with Max, grimly looking on with your chin propped onto interlaced fingers, preparing yourself for his deep, sexy voice that was going to be purring in your ears very soon. The very voice that had become a recurring theme in the dreams you'd been having lately, that and also how he would bite those thick lips of his when he'd stare at you, with his cute little freckle on his top lip-
Why do you look like you're about to go to war, your intern asks bluntly, putting an end to your illicit thoughts and delivering you your triple chocolate caramel frap. Because I am, you hissed, sculling the whole thing in one go. She smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. Was this to do with how categorically down bad you are for your precious Maxie?
You proceeded to inform her that if she ever brought up how you'd drunkedly referred to him that one time, you'd have no problem abusing your authority to shaft her on tire service duty for a week. She wisely chose to leave you be in peace, taking your empty cup as she went.
Taking some meditative breaths, you focus on thinking about unsexy things. Like the hydraulics system of the current car needing to be redesigned to better incorporate-
Your thoughts are cut off a second time as another cup is deposited in front of you, this time by none other than Max himself, who's thoughtfully brought you a triple chocolate caramel frap. You stutter out your thanks, not daring to touch more caffeine currently as you already had sweaty palpitations at the sight of him looking so big and muscled in his slutty tight fireproofs. Dear God, had he no shame? They needed to bring back the Victorian era and cover him up, he was going to distract everyone (mainly you.) He frowns slightly, leaning down to your height, and informs you that you didn't have to call him Verstappen, you know, Max is fine-
Wow. And then what would come next? Maxie? And then you asking him for his hand in marriage? No, no, absolutely not - you needed to maintain strict professional boundaries or risk him catching onto your massive crush and promptly be fired. You politely informed him that for the sake of public decorum and the rabid fangirls that were watching your every move as a young female engineer in proximity to their favourite drivers, that you would refer to him as Verstappen, or Mr. Verstappen if he preferred a more formal title?
He'd pouted those lush lips of his and reluctantly agreed that just Verstappen was okay, he supposed. But he much preferred hearing you call him Max, at least when there were no cameras around? What you had done in your past life to now be forced to resist such temptation, you would never know.
So the season went on, you two continuing to be a smashing success and a very popular internet pairing. Not that you'd been paying that much attention! Just a saved TikTok edit here and there of the time Max had called you schatje over the radio after blowing up about a tire malfunction. He’d then sweetly apologised the next lap when you remained unfazed and told him to sort his shit out, babes, Leclerc was right up his ass with a tire and DRS malfunction, yeah? (Twitter had gone crazy. Who knew Max Verstappen responded so well to a 5 foot, slightly older woman giving him orders over the team radio?! You’d instantly been accepted as a replacement for the beloved GP, original gentle domTM to the Dutch driver.)
And perhaps another saved edit of the time he had protectively held you in those big, strong arms of his, guiding your tiny figure through a massive media-frenzied crowd and whispered reassurances in your ear when you couldn’t breathe properly. Or the time he’d bitten a reporter’s head off with the ferocity of a lion after he suggested that as the first female race engineer, you’d acquired your new job through your…feminine wiles.
And maybe just one of when the PR team had made you do one of those ridiculous hot lap videos with him after seeing the online response, and he'd laughed as you screamed out of fear for your life when he cruised at a cool 200km/hr. The aftermath had been brutal, as you weakly stumble out and almost fall flat on your face, only for him to easily pick you up, carrying you bridal style back towards the garage (Truly, this right here was proof God sent his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers.)
Nearing the end of the 6 month stint, when GP was due back in to resume his role as Max's race engineer, the Redbull team had decided to take a well deserved weekend trip to Verona, Italy. You’d suspiciously looked at your intern, asking why she’d selected the romantic setting of Romeo & Juliet of all places, to which she replied that just cause you’d chosen to cockblock yourself for eternity with a crush on your coworker the millionaire F1 driver, didn’t mean the rest of them couldn’t get some. Valid point, so you shut up.
So now, here you are, sitting in a romantically lit corner of a cute Italian vineyard with a small group from the engineering division, sloshed after a bottle of red wine and asking them be real, be real, you're telling me none of you have been checked out Max's ass in his fireproofs? Lies.
Across the courtyard, Lando is currently extremely unimpressed with his good friend, 3 time Championship winning, and general terror on the track Max Verstappen. That is because said friend has decided, rather pathetically, to lie on the cobblestone and drunkedly ask the stars why fate was so cruel. Seriously mate, Lando sighs, all this over a silly insta post?
Excuse you, it’s not just any insta post! Max had protested, baby tears in his eyes and face flushed from the four G&Ts he’d drunk. Pulling out his phone, he shows Lando the damning evidence of the pictures you'd uploaded from the group trip with your engineering friends. Look. LOOK. His arm is around her and she used a Lana Del Ray lyric in the caption. Do you have any idea what this means?
The Brit has to resist rolling his eyes at the melodrama unfolding in front of him. The Dutchman continues, never one to miss a chance to maxplain - as he details how it had taken him a a whole 2 months to get him to call you by his first name, and then another 2 months before you'd told him your favourite song was Summertime Sadness, and that even now if he hugged you to celebrate a win you would look like you were about to throw up and furiously speed walk away.
Lando is seriously regretting tagging along to the Redbull trip instead of Carlos's invitation to Mallorca. It was bad enough that the whole train ride Max had been on the phone begging GP to take another 6 month break so that you'd continue to be his engineer, but Lando has had his limit with this simpy pining. Taking his phone out as the maxplaining continued in the background, he shoots a text to your intern, who immediately replies, and within minutes the pair of them have hatched a conniving plan to dump you lovesick fools together while the rest of them make their way into town.
And that’s how you and Max find yourself locked inside the upstairs wine cellar, having been separately tricked with various promises from your scheming friends - only to hear the door click behind you and turn to find each other. It's very romantic and all, soft candlelight and bottles of luxurious Italian wine and a shining full moon visible from the terracotta balcony. Someone had even generously left a speaker in the courtyard, with Lana Del Ray's melodic voice rising upto the second floor. Basically, the worst nightmare for your self control as you prayed for inner strength and avoid looking into Max's dreamy blue eyes. This was definitely some twisted beyond the grave revenge from Shakespeare for you saying he'd write poetry about a F1 driver’s eyes.
Max, though, is all too happy to come right over to you with another freshly opened bottle of wine, drunk and flushed and having zero inhibitions about pulling you into his warm side with a strong arm. You're too buzzed to resist, letting yourself fall against his chest to hear his soothing heartbeat and rest a palm against his hard abs, just this once (The real thing was even better than what you'd imagined.)
You're both laughing and giggling then, hearts full, reminiscing about the season together, the inside jokes on the radio, the side eyes to each other when Horner got too wound up at a meeting, and oh did you hear that the McLaren tireboy was hooking up with the Mercedes oilchecker?
And then your eyes meet his and your homegirl Lana starts singing dear lord when I get to heaven, please let me bring my man (real) and Max is softly brushing your cheek, leaning down as your heated gazes flit to each other's lips-
NOPE! you force yourself to declare, dramatically leaving his arms and contemplating if you could land the jump from the 2nd floor balcony. The Italian wine has made Max demanding though, as he doesn't let you go, grabbing your hand to pull you back like he was Anthony goddamn Bridgerton and wanting to know Why not, was he just imagining the chemistry, did you not find him hot or?
You'd gaped at him. Not hot? Apparently the Italian wine had gotten to you too because you didn't hold back, launching into a tirade of how no, Max, the issue was actually that he was too hot for his own good and did he even know how unfair it had been to be his engineer, pure torture really, you were sure the American military would be adding it to their interrogation tactics. As if it hadn't been bad enough to crush on him from a distance for years but then have to resist falling for him every time you saw him? So, no, you couldn't just give him a casual drunk kiss because you were in love with him!
Max stares at you, initially smug that you apparently found him so irresistibly good looking, but now completely bewildered when you finished ranting. You think - he swallowed. You think that this is just casual? Cause I- cause I'm drunk?
At your nod, he launches into his own maxplaination, brows furrowed, demanding to know how on earth you could think it was just casual, what about when he diligently showed up to every meeting with a banana choc muffin and caramel frappe and his hoodie for you to wear on the chilly mornings, or when he brought two Lana Del Ray VIP tickets the very same day you'd told him you liked her, or when he'd literally called you darling in Dutch over the team radio for the whole world to hear, or how he even sold his private jet and only jetpooled with the others since you told him off?! Seriously, even that old crone Helmut had asked him when you two were going to hard launch!
Your doe eyes go wider and wider at each statement, a pretty flush taking over your own face as your mind boggles at the realisation that apparently, the love of your life felt just as deeply about you. Stuttering, you try to formulate a reply - only to come up with Oh, well, I, uh - you sold your jet? For me?
Max rolls his eyes, but there's nothing except pure adoration on his face as he pulls you back into his warm chest, grinning down at you when you eagerly wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. Yes, schat, he murmurs gently, the cutest blush painting his cheeks. Because I love you, too. And this time you don't pull away when he finally, finally leans down and meets your lips in a passionate kiss, enjoying the sweet moans he draws out of you as he showcases his numerous talents off the track.
Somewhere, in the middle of a Verona nightclub, your intern gives Lando Norris a firm handshake. Pleasure doing business with you.
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A/N: A lil sweet fluff for me, this is actually my first fluff piece i think ahaha i've only written like 8 smut pieces in a row!! Hope you enjoyed 💖 and PS thank you ALL for the requests you’ve been sending, been getting them and will work thru them just have a few projects I’m cookin up for u guys hehe xx
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Family Affair ~ Max Verstappen
Summary: it’s a family affair at the singapore grand prix as the entire verstappen family come to cheer max on
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ynusername just posted
liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 103,382 others
ynusername: I’ll give you three guesses as to where we’re off to 🏎️
tagged: maxverstappen1
28,492 comments
maxverstappen1: well aren’t I just the luckiest dad/husband in the world 🩷
username1: we love when the verstappens all show up
username2: I can’t deal with how cute you all are
charles_leclerc: yesssssss!! leo can’t wait for all the pup cuddles this weekend
ynusername: nvm the kids, all the cuddles will come from me
danielricciardo: it’s been too long, can’t wait for the fam to reunite
maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo you do know you’re not actually family…don’t you?
danielricciardo: @/maxverstappen1 can you stop ruining my dreams please and thank you
redbullracing: we’re preparing ourselves for all the chaos 🤯
username3: watch max be exhausted before even getting in the car dealing with the kids and y/n
username4: cannot wait for the verstappen spam all weekend 😍
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maxverstappen1 just posted
liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 2,291,202 others
maxverstappen1: project verstappen junior is well underway, checkout y/s/n learning the ropes during practice this morning 🏁
72,291 comments
schecoperez: when I’m next in need of a new engineer I’ll be sure to give y/s/n a call!
ynusername: @/schechoperez he would absolutely love to work for uncle checo ❤️
username4: just when we all thought these kids could not get any cuter, max posts this
username5: it’s the baby uniform for me 😅
oscarpiastri: y/s/n already looks like he does a better job than anyone at mclaren
mclaren: @/oscarpiastri we’ll pretend we didn’t hear that
ynusername: I’m never gonna be able to escape f1 am I??
username6: max must be the proudest parent seeing his son so in love with what he does
pierregasly: little guy is looking good in blue max!!
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redbullracing just posted
liked by maxverstappen1, ynusername and 492,971 others
redbullracing: when all the verstappens are wearing blue, it only means one thing 🏆🏁
tagged: maxverstappen1 and ynusername
28,491 comments
maxverstappen1: another big push this weekend team, with my favourite mascots I’m sure p1 has my name all over it
username7: petition for team verstappen to come and cheerlead for me instead
username8: asking for a friend…can your ovaries burst just from a photo?
ynusername: team max! (and @/schechoperez 🎉)
username9: if anyone was wondering where all the good genes went…look no further
username10: pls tell me that is max’s helmet that y/d/n is wearing, it’s drowning her 😭
ynusername: @/username10 don’t worry, it is, she insists on trying it on when max finishes it, the stench is gross
maxverstappen1: @/ynusername excuse me, I always smell a million dollars
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maxverstappen1 just posted
liked by redbullracing, alex_albon and 3,032,583 others
maxverstappen1: on pole for tomorrow, job done for another day, now to rest up and relax for tomorrow. not sure how possible that will be with the kids, the pink bow was a new low 🥺🩷
68,302 comments
estebanocon: mate the bow should stay…really brings out the colour in your eyes
georgerussell63: sorry max, I’m never going to be able to take you seriously again
ynusername: damn love, y/d/n really has got you wrapped around her little finger 😂
maxverstappen1: @/ynusername what can I say? she really is a daddy’s girl 😊
username11: look at his smile, that’s a true proud dad smile going on there
username12: I swear max you have never looked better 😍
carlossainz55: almost at smooth operator level there max!!
maxverstappen1: @/carlossainz55 from you sir I will take that as a complete
pierregasly: that reminds me, I really must update your photo contact on my phone
fernandoalo_oficial: you lose all street cred the moment you become a dad I’m afraid max
username13: not all the drivers finally taking revenge and getting back at max 😂😂
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ynusername just posted
liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 729,492 others
ynusername: the three stages of race week with children. 1) run around with loads of energy. 2) begin to tire but remind yourself how cute your children are when they give you cute notes. 3) completely collapse after the race when you realise your children have tired you out before the lights even went out. sorry bub, but remember we love you dearly 🩷🩷🩷🩷
tagged: maxverstappen1
42,593 comments
maxverstappen1: I’ll be good as new for tomorrow, spending time with you guys will always be my priority. I love you all so much more 🥺❤️
landonorris: I remember the days when max used to write me cute notes like that 😭
danielricciardo: @/landonorris and the days when he used to play tag with me around the paddock too
landonorris: @/danielricciardo he’s abandoned us now for the kids…my heart is broken
yukitsunoda0511: that looks like a man trying to get five minutes peace from his kids on the right 😂
maxverstappen1: @/yukitsunoda0511 guilty as charged
username13: just when I think we possibly couldn’t get anymore cute dad max photos for the weekend, we end up getting more
username14: you just know that max absolutely dotes on his two angels
oscarpiastri: petition for the two of you to adopt me, I want to be part of all this fun too 🥺
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maxverstappen1 just posted
liked by ynusername, schecoperez and 3,382,503 others
maxverstappen1: singapore p1 🏁🎉 couldn’t have done it without my incredible team cheering me on, having them beside me constantly reminds me of the sacrifices they all make. y/n, y/s/n, y/d/n, you guys are the best. thanks for all the support team, now to soak up all the daddy cuddles before the next one 🔥
tagged: ynusername
194,328 comments
ynusername: words cannot begin to express how proud we are of you!! nights like this simply don’t get better my love 🤩
redbullracing: congratulations on a great week of racing max, enjoy the time with your family now
username15: poor y/d/n looks so exhausted, it must be hard work cheering for daddy
landonorris: are those daddy cuddles just from y/s/n and y/d/n????
maxverstappen1: @/landonorris what exactly are you implying?
landonorris: @/maxverstappen1 🫢🫢🫢🫢
charles_leclerc: congrats on a great week max, an honour to share the podium with you again
lance_stroll: lovely to finally meet all the family my man, enjoy the rest and recovery with your little ones
username16: are we all just going to pretend like we don’t know what lando is hinting at back there?
username17: max screams daddy material…literally 😅
georgerussell63: we couldn’t not let you win this one…we just didn’t wanna upset the kids 😂
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ynusername just posted
liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton and 629,402 others
ynusername: husband, father, grand prix winner, is there anything that this man can’t do? we are so proud of you max, every time I think you can’t achieve more, you go and prove me wrong. thank you for the best weekend with our little team ❤️🔥
tagged: maxverstappen1
42,402 comments
carlossainz55: he’s yet to beat me at fifa…that’s something he can’t do 😂
logansargeant: I swear you guys are the ultimate goals, if anyone asks, this is how I want my future to look!!
maxverstappen1: thank you for cheering me on, I hope you guys know that I do all of this for you 🥺
ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 ofc we do, and once again you’ve reminded our children that hard work really does pay off
danielricciardo: I remember the days when he used to hug me like that 😭
ynusername: @/danielricciardo MOVE ON AND LET IT GO 😂😂😂
username18: he’s lucky to have someone as amazing as you in his corner y/n
username19: pls tell me this is the last post this weekend, my heart can’t take anymore adorableness 💔
landonorris: go team verstappen!! (I’m secretly rooting for you guys!)
redbullracing: remember y/n you’re always welcome in the paddock, we’ve loved having you, y/d/n and our future world champion y/s/n with us this weekend 😊
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I hope you enjoyed this little smau, any feedback or requests would be gratefully received 🥺🥺🥺
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒��𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ “YOU… CAN’T WALK?” *ੈ✩‧₊˚
summary: after a night of… suspicious activities, you find that your body is rendered useless!! how does your boyfriend react??
feat. diluc ragnvindr, kaeya alberich, childe, kazuha kaedehara, scaramouche, xiao, ayato, al-haitham, kaveh
a/n: blue balled </3
warnings: heavily suggestive however no explicit smut, minors get tf out /lh <33, innuendos, fluff, mentions of “girlie” in childe’s, basically after aftercare
─ ✰ DILUC is highkey embarrassed about not being able to resist his urges, so much so that you’re in pain because of him. he apologizes profusely and is so guilty that he hurt you 😭😭 you’ll have to reassure him that you’re alright, but that you just need some extra help getting around today or for the next week. he’ll be your majestic horse for as long as you need him to. need to go to the bathroom? he’ll carry you to and from, waiting for you to be done outside of the door. hungry? he’s already got adelinde cooking something up for you. thirsty? he just bought thirty different flavours of herbal tea. he treats all the love bites he’s given you and iced the bruises on your legs, looking up for your reaction each time. a friend of yours asked why your legs were so shaky and you couldn’t walk, and his face exploded into a bright shade of red, making it obvious that your… nighttime activities were the cause.
─ ✰ KAEYA’S your knight in shining armour, although sometimes you may want to smack his head. oh, he’ll help you alright, but at the cost of your dignity. he’s carrying you bridal-style in his arms, which may sound wholesome, but the things he’s whispering in your ear are clearly not. turning bright red, you nuzzle your head further in his chest to prevent him from looking at you. cute. he chuckles at your reaction, pressing a soft kiss to your head before gently placing you in the bath. the warm water helps your muscles relax more, easing up the tension from your legs. you sigh in relief, sinking further into the bathtub as he scrubs the soap out of your hair. you shiver when he blows over your hickeys, deliberately trying to rile you up. this time, you won’t give him what he wants, though. you flip over on your side, turning away from him with what little self-respect you have left. but it all leaves your body when he leans in closer. “easy there princess, being a brat is what got you here in the first place.”
─ ✰ CHILDE, quite like his name suggests, is a literal child. you thought kaeya was bad? well, this giant man baby wants you to flaunt off your hickeys and bruises to the whole world, he wants everyone to know you’re his and his alone. his teasing is x10000 times stronger than normal, he has no basic decency 💀💀 will make you ask for his help to inflate his ego, at this point just get up and leave </3 when you try to angrily glare at him, it comes off as more of a sad pout, so he caves and scoops you up in his arms like a kid. “aww, is my favourite baby coochie coo girlie okay? don’t worry, daddy’s here-” please smack the living shit out of him, if you don’t he’ll continue to baby and coo at you for the rest of the day. don’t even try to complain to him about the marks, he’ll just add more until he’s satisfied 😬 oh, and one last piece of advice? don’t let him see you in his shirt unless you’re looking to get wrecked (again), he’ll go absolutely feral.
─ ✰ KAZUHA, let’s be real, would be so soft and loving that you wouldn’t have any bruises and i stand this with my life 😤 but for the purpose of the plot, let’s pretend he did. out of everyone, he’s the most delicate with you. he’s so gentle and careful carrying you like you could break at any moment, whispering one of his poems quietly and humming underneath his breath. if you’re hungry, he makes his specialty dish, spoon feeds you everything, even tipping the water cup up so you can drink from it. he gives you so much love and reassurance it makes your heart absolutely melt 🥺🥺 he kisses each mark he made on your body, whispering “beautiful” each time :,) a tear slips by your eye, never has anyone treated you with such care before him. he wipes it away and pulls you close, making sure not to hurt you accidentally, and utters endless sweet nothings. in his eyes, you are a perfect creation, and he can’t thank the heavens enough that you are his. his muse, his love, forever <3.
─ ✰ SCARAMOUCHE, this bitch, thinks you’re being dramatic when you say in a scratchy voice that you can’t walk. he tells you to just get over it, and when you get pissed and try to walk away from him, your legs fail you and you brace yourself for the impact, but it never comes. his arms are hooked above yours, effectively saving you from crashing down and causing further damage. you angrily yank your arm back, telling him to leave, but he only pulls you up closer into his arms. he wraps your legs around his hips as he holds your waist, cursing something under his breath. he places you onto the couch as you turn away from him in a huff. “are you just going to ignore me?” silence. “fine. be like that then.” silence again. “…i’m …sorry. i didn’t mean it.” you turn back around, and he’s squatting on the ground with his head twisted so you can’t see his face. he moves away quickly, flustered by your gaze, and leaves the room for a minute. when he comes back, he’s holding some warm tea for your throat. needless to say, he pampers you for the rest of the day.
─ ✰ XIAO thinks you’re seriously ill when you almost tumble out of bed and land smack dab on the floor. you’ll have to explain to him why your legs aren’t exactly working, and when he does… flustered beyond relief. when he takes a closer look at you, he notices your body is full of love marks and bruises around your thighs. in the moment, he may have forgotten how fragile humans could be. he thinks he’s broken you, and he’s genuinely concerned for you 💀 you might have to direct him on how to help you, but once he gets the hang of it, he’ll do the best he can. unlike how he wields his spear, he’s delicate and graceful. he might be rough around the edges, but he’s trying, and you don’t have the heart to tell him that you don’t need him to carry you for the rest of your life, not when he cocks his head and looks at you questioningly when you don’t climb on his back. as an apology for temporarily immobilizing you, he brings you a qingxing flower and shares his almond tofu with you. honestly, what more could you ask for 😻?
─ ✰ AYATO is actual husband material <33 he’s already prepared for this for some reason 🤨 as soon as you wake up, any punishments you may have received have been treated and wrapped up carefully. a fresh pitcher of water is there for you, and by the looks of it, a bath is running. but none of it interests you if ayato isn’t there with you. carefully, with the help of thoma, you are able to wobble to the room ayato is in, concentrated on his paperwork. hobbling towards him, he pushes his chair back so you can sit on his lap. pressing a kiss to your cheek, he brushes the hair out of your face, “darling, you should be resting. i ran a bath for you, is everything okay? are you sore anywhere?” “can you come join me? please?” you beg, putting on the cutest pout you can manage. “if you can wait ten minutes until i’m done.” internally, you sigh, but you patiently sit on his lap and wait until he’s finished. ah, but don’t worry, the reward is definitely worth it. he kneads through all the sore spots, applies all your skincare, and changes your clothes. later, you do matching face masks 💗
─ ✰ AL-HAITHAM was probably prepared for this, he read hundreds of books about human reproduction 💀 he notes all the side effects you seem to have: a scratchy throat, unstable legs, exhaustion… he saves it for the next time you have… physical activities. he remembers an article he read on how to take care of your significant other after intercourse, and follows that. he makes homemade soup to soothe your throat, which he watches over you as you drink. he also forces you to take naps, he’ll read “the control politicians have over our daily lives” just to make you fall asleep. he’ll get your groceries, take out your trash, and do your work so you can focus on relaxing, all with a stoic face. if anyone asks him where you are, he’ll just give an obvious lie with a straight face 💀💀 “y/n is out collecting a census right now.” “but they told me they were sick?” normally his lies are flawless, but when it’s about you… his mind doesn’t function properly. but if you absolutely need to get somewhere, you’re going to have to ask him. last time, he locked kaveh out of the dorm for 48 hours for helping you get a book from the library because he fell asleep 💀
─ ✰ KAVEH’S face is the first thing you see when you wake up. jumpscare warning sir he’s hovering over you, observing your face. immediately after he sees that you are awake comes the barrage of questions. “my love, are you all right? i wasn’t too rough, was i?” he’s such a simp i could never see him being rough he dramatically gasps when he sees your shaky legs, pretending to be shocked, but he’s slightly happy that this means you’ll have to cling onto him for the whole day. but oh my, both of you still have work!! whatever shall you do? it seems like the only solution is for him to take you everywhere… he proudly parades you around the akademiya, much to the embarrassment of you. but there’s nothing you can really do, not when you can’t run away, so you bury your head in his back to avoid the judging gazes of the other scholars. kaveh shoots a smug grin to an uncaring al haitham, who probably knows and heard everything from last night💀💀
©hawkssimpsblog 2023. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.
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summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.
idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k
content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺
> in which masterlist!
note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺
—
jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.
tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.
and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.
you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.
you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.
“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”
jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.
“____, baby!”
upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.
“jungkook!”
you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.
“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.
“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”
the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.
he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?
“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”
“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”
he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.
“yeah, of course i am,”
jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.
“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”
he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”
“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”
“oh, okay. have a nice night!”
“you too,”
he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.
his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.
is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.
he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.
“who was that?”
“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”
he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.
what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.
“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.
an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.
“makes me nervous,”
his dominant hand closes into a fist.
if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.
“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”
you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.
out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.
“i missed you!”
“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.
“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”
—
“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.
“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”
“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”
the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.
unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.
you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.
“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”
“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”
something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.
“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.
he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.
as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.
you mistake his silence for something else.
you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”
he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”
you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.
he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.
isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.
three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.
he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.
and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.
much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.
jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.
maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.
“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”
you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.
what the fuck. too bright.
“me too…”
—
“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.
his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.
“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”
“whatever i want?”
he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.
“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”
he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.
“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.
“i thought you already had something in mind?”
“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.
you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.
jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”
“i’m okay,”
“you sure?”
“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.
he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.
the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.
he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.
be careful of what you wish for, they said.
jungkook should know better by now.
“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.
he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.
you’re so pretty. everywhere.
even when naked and bare.
no, especially. it’s all he can think about.
he can draw you from memory.
“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.
the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.
“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”
your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.
a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.
“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”
his warning is cut short by-
“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.
okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.
you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.
and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.
“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”
he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.
while he’s driving? really?
doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?
you are not real.
“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”
he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.
“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”
wrong move.
the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.
jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.
also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.
you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.
“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”
“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”
“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”
“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”
“what do you mean?” you exclaim.
you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.
“jungkook, i hate you!”
“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”
“and there’s not one in your wallet?”
“babe, are you serious?!”
“what?!”
somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.
but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.
“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.
he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”
“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”
“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”
“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”
the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.
he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.
“baby, stop being stu-”
he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.
“…bborn…”
he blinks.
he inhales. he exhales.
and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.
“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”
—
jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.
his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.
there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.
except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.
he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.
“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”
“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”
his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.
you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.
he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”
you shake your head to answer his question.
“then how are you already eating?”
you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.
“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”
“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.
he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.
you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.
“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”
you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”
“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”
he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.
“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.
“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”
the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.
—
you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.
“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”
“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”
his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.
“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”
“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”
“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.
“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”
“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”
he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.
“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”
you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”
“you promise me?”
“i promise!”
he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”
“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.
comfortable silence follows suit.
the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.
he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.
“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”
“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”
“just trust me, alright?”
you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.
“can i make a guess?”
“nope!”
you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.
“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”
—
you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.
jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.
“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”
“i’m planning on it.”
his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.
he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”
“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”
“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.
a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.
“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”
“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”
oh my fucking god.
he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.
“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”
“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”
your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.
“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”
“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”
“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”
his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.
“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”
jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.
you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.
how did he get so lucky?
rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.
you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.
“what are we doing here?”
jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”
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