#but they're the words I needed someone to tell me for weeks so if it can help anyone <3< /div>
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HOW COULD U LOVE SOMEBODY LIKE ME? - sae-byeok x ji-yeong x f!reader GENRE: dead dove??? angsty maybe.. Thriller.. Idkk? WARNINGS mentions of killing, murder.u. SYPNOSIS having yandere gfs are not for the weak.. try to survive!!1111!.. part 5 to the headcannons i did!! ty for the req anon!! WC n/a TAGLIST none yet!

��� It all started with you being nice â once, only one time. Only one time of giving ji-yeong a bandage, only one time of smiling at sae-byeok sweetly. And that was all it took to get them hooked. ⢠Sae-byeok noticed you first, watched you, memorized you. She even recited your schedule like its something she needs to do to be considered a human being. Quietly eliminating those who disturbed her process. ⢠Ji-yeong followed in suit â but she did it in her own eerie way. She would take time out your day to speak to you. As if she was actually just a normal woman trying to make you hers. She sat beside you, smiled, bought you things. But it was so much more than that. ⢠randomly, you were ranting to your 'close friends' about a annoying bitch at work â the following week? they disappeared randomly - you thought it was just a coincidence. It wasnt. ⢠now, when you first started dating them â they masked it as 'we both want you, and were fighting each other for you' knowing damn well they were using their shared braincells to take you for themselves. ⢠they knew you would feel bad, would feel the need to make them both happy, they planned it already. So of course, you being you - would try to calm the dispute and pick them both! ⢠2 months into the relationship - you started to realize who they really were. They're dangerous alone and deadly together. ⢠Sae-byeok's love is cold. calculating, protective â she knows how to break bones and wouldn't mine breaking yours if you ever tried to leave her.
⢠Ji-yeong's love is unpredictable, closed off, quick â She was the one who made you trust them, all those sweet talks were apart of the plan too.
⢠They love you, but not peacefully. Ji-yeong's soft threats and Sae-byeok's not so gentle touches mixed well, but at the same time it threw you off. "if you ever left, you'll be like those people we tried oh-so-hard to protect you from." Ji-yeong coos, looking at your scared-yet trying to be composed expression. Sae-byeok smirks, while she grips your jaw. "You wouldn't dare try to leave us, right?" ⢠It was all so overwhelming, so new. But at the same time, you couldn't help but feel a deep thrill in your body, knowing you were so protected and whipped over. ⢠They fight over you sometimes, not with words, with silence. Threats. Glares. And somehow, at the end â you're always in the middle, on someones lap while the other stares. ⢠They're so possesive it hurts. Phone? Monitored. Sae-byeok already installed trackers. Ji-yeong reads your messages in that sing- song voice, trying to be sweet, most specifically those where you're begging your friends to save you from that mess of a relationship.
⢠You're not even allowed to be alone, not even while using the bathroom. Sae-byeok leans on the door and whispers "You're still with me in there?"
⢠If someone touches you - atleast once? Sae-byeok GLARES daggers at them, and wraps an arm around your waist, while ji-yeong looks at them amused. Then tells you privately "they dont need eyes now, do they?" ⢠You tried to break up with them, once. You three were in a heated argument, spouting insults and harsh truths. That was before you tried to end the argument. "You know what? we need to break up. This isn't going to work-" You felt a sharp sting to your head, the whole world went dark. And then you woke up - the house locked, soft blankets, and them pampering you. To try to convince you that they were amazing girlfriends. ⢠They never hurt you. Unless you try to run and reject their love. The threat is always there in soft threats, maybe rough objects. ⢠They treat you like a porcelain doll, feeding you, clothing you, bathe you - whether you like it or not.
#kang sae byeok x reader#kang saebyeok#kang sae byeok#kang sae byeok smut#ji yeong x reader#ji yeong#jiyeong#jibyeok#ji yeong smut
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Upon request, here is the second part to our rec list of fics where Louis and Harry have unprotected sex. If you missed part one, you can find it here. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!
1) Change In Pressure | Explicit | 4,600 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Louis and Harry argue. Louis and Harry also fuck on the stage. Somehow it manages to be kind of romantic.
2) In That Bright White Noise | Explicit | 5,060 words
Blind dates are usually destined to go terribly, so Louis doesn't exactly trust his friends when they say they've set him up with Gemma's younger brother, Harry, at an evening bonfire they're attending. Luckily, Harry's much hotter and kinder than Louis thought he'd be, which is a relief. He's also really fucking good at sex, which is just a wonderful bonus.
3) Want It All The Time, Need It Everyday | Explicit | 6,306 words
Louis visits LA a week before the boys head to Australia for On The Road Again. He and Harry have some catching up to do.
4) More, More, More | Explicit | 8,733 words
BLFF Prompt 216: 1980s AU. Harry is a singer and Louis is a groupie that Harry sleeps with. He becomes Harryâs inspiration for writing Rebel Yell by Billy Idol.
5) Put Your Faith In My Stomach | Not Rated | 10,333 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Harry and Louis want a baby. Louis is a carrier, but that doesn't mean he's going to get pregnant.
6) Moonlit Sky Over Gentle Waters | Explicit | 11,377 words
Harry left his hometown to sail the seven seas and returns seven years later, yearning for something â or rather, someone â that he isnât sure he can have.
7) Touch Me (Like Nobody Else Does) | Mature | 11,459 words
The alphaâs grin returned tenfold, deep dimples popping into his cheeks. Holy shit, he has dimples. âNo, I donât mind at all. I know where to find you when I need it back,â he said with a chuckle before leaning back into his seat. Louis let out a small giggle before nodding. âIâll be sure it gets returned to youâŚ?â He trailed off, one eyebrow raised at the other man. âHarry,â he replied, amusement still shining in his eyes. âAnd you are?â âLouis,â the omega responded before leaning back into his seat averting his eyes once again. âThank you, really, for the charger. Youâre a lifesaver. Iâm not sure how I wouldâve made it through without my Netflix.â
8) A Flicker Of Hope That I Wanna Keep (Please Donât Leave) | Mature | 12,230 words
Harry is in love with Louis, and he had thought Louis felt the same until he accidentally left his journal in Harryâs home. He knows he shouldnât have read it, especially when it only proved to be a reality check he didnât want. Once Harry finds the green-eyed, curly-haired, gangly fucker thatâs stolen Louisâ heart, heâd like to have a strong word with him.
9) Won't See It Coming Til It's Already Gone | Explicit | 12,631 words
âTell me that this is a fake,â Peter says, slapping a handful of papers against Louisâ chest. He says something else, something loud and demanding, barely even pausing for a breath, but Louis doesnât hear it. All he hears is the sound of his own breathing, the sound of his own heartbeat. Because this - this looks like a marriage certificate. For a minute, everything stills, quiets. Louis drags his eyes up, meets Harryâs gaze, fixed on him. Then the noise is back, shouting voices clamoring to be heard over each other, and Harry is still staring at him. The ring that Louis hadnât been able to stop noticing in the loo weighs heavily on his hand. His left hand.
10) Sweet Scary Creatures | Mature | 13,012 words
They stare into each otherâs eyes for a while until Louis remembers this is too intimate and looks at Harryâs hands on his thigh. It spans a big portion of his thigh and Louis has always been insecure about how thick he is, so he loves that Harry has huge, dustbin hands that hold him and makes him feel smaller, safer.
11) Show You The Stars In The Daylight | Explicit | 13,227 words
The one where Louis has a type and at sixteen and scrawny, itâs definitely not his best friendâs little brother HarryâŚten years later, he changes his mind.
12) You Know It Ainât Fiction, Just A Natural Fact| Not Rated | 13,312 words
âLook, Louâ Harry whispers, âI canât do it, and as much as I like having dinner with you, and hanging out, I think we should just do it without the tutoring part because I am not smart enough for school.â âThatâs bullshit,â Louis answers quickly, âwhat do you like?â he asks, âI mean, other than football and asking me stuff about my family. There must be something else youâre good at.â âI play football and fuck, Louis. Thatâs it.â Louis definitely doesnât flinch at that. He does not.
13) Your Heart Is Glowing And I'm Crashing Into You | Explicit | 13,915 words
Louis swallows slowly, blinking away images of himself lying spread on top of his duvet at home, and the rich chocolate curls falling over the boyâs face as he eagerly stretches Louis open, and God. Louis really has to stop falling in love with every beautiful boy he comes across.
14) With the Certainty Of Tides | Mature | 13,980 words
âLove you,â Louis whispered in the dark. He didnât know what time it was or where the light had gone, he knew that he was in Harryâs arms, basking in the afterglow of all their love and heâd be a fool to not tell Harry that. As if Harry didnât know. âLove you,â was whispered back, as if Louis didnât know. They confessed to each other as if it was their first time saying it, raw and painful, and listened to it the very same way, but they knew those words to be the only ones true. With all the certainty of the tides, with all the light from the sun, with all the steady beats of their hearts, they were deftly in love, in secret and so loudly. They were brave and fearless and strong and hopelessly devoted in every sense of their breaths. âWe made it, baby,â Harry mumbled, bringing their lips into a final kiss, sweet and soft and the color of pink. They already knew that, didnât fight tooth and nail and argued through every petty year and bleed their hearts into the words they sang and on their skin for them to have not made it home. They were home.
15) The Seed Inside You, Baby, Do You Feel It Growin' | Explicit | 14,796 words
Louis really wants Harry to get him pregnant.
16) All This Delusion In Our Heads | Explicit | 15,088 words
After Harry and Louis break up, they cope with it in very different ways. What will happen when Harry keeps calling his ex over when things go wrong in his life, but Louis just can't take it anymore?
17) Let Me Inside | Explicit | 17,734 words
Louis is Harryâs boss, but Harry is the boss of Louis
18) Reach The Heavens Own Blue | Explicit | 21,070 words
Louis is a Boston Red Sox and Harry is a New York Yankee.
19) Cut the Sides, Donât Touch the Back | Explicit | 21,596 words
Prompt 87: Harryâs been talking about getting a mullet for so long and Louis hates how good he pulls it off. Aka The Mullet Fic.
20) Beautiful, Dirty, Rich | Explicit | 23,534 words
Later that night, Louis arrived home and screamed into his pillow when he flopped onto his mattress. This prompted Niall to appear in the doorway with a concerned look on his face. A beer was being nursed carefully in his hand, blue eyes glassy from the booze. âUm⌠Are you okay?â It came out quietly like he was scared of spooking Louis. Louis dramatically flipped over to stare at his roommate, âI met the love of my life at work, but heâs a club member so itâs forbidden.â He whined loudly, jutting his bottom lip out in faux distress. âShit Lou, you had me worried. Thought someone died or something,â The boy groaned, strolling over to plop himself onto the mattress, âSo, tell me about this guy you wanna fuck.â âNi heâs the sexiest person Iâve ever met. I want to be his trophy wife he shows off, and have all his babies, and be at his beck and call twenty-four seven,â All he received in return was an unimpressed stare, his friend rolling his eyes at the antics.
21) The Devil's In The Details | Explicit | 25,372 words
He squeals when Harry smacks his bum as he bends over to pick up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. Harry smiles smugly at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth. âWhen are you going to start calling me professor?â He asks. âWhen you actually are one,â Louis says with his hand on the doorknob. He cocks his head to the side in curiosity. âIsnât that how words work? You did study English, right?â Louisâ quick to slip out the door before Harry can smack him again, his laugh echoing through the hallways as he makes his way to his next class with flushed cheeks and a bright smile.
22) Let Me Carry Your Weight | Explicit | 28,633 wordsÂ
Louis is fresh out of a bad relationship with someone who made him feel awful about how he looked. on his journey to better himself, he meets harry - the ridiculously attractive and fit personal trainer.
23) Trapped | Explicit | 32,957 words
An AU in which Harry and Louis are under lockdown because of the global pandemic and they find themselves experiencing change in between them.
24) But I Wonât Feel Blue | Not Rated | 33,808 words
âSam Claflin,â Then the second. âBill Skarsgard.â And finally, the third. She hesitated, holding it for a moment longer, then let it go. âHarry Styles.â With the final letter sent, there was no turning back now. Whatever happened next, Lilah was ready to face it
25) Give Me Love | Explicit | 41,041 words
Louis doesn't feel like a good omega, Harry doesn't remember how to be an alpha, and they figure it out together.
26) Sedative Duty | Explicit | 46,588 words
Pop-star of the moment Louis Tomlinson is on his third-world tour. He decides to hire renowned professional dominant Harry Styles to unwind while on the road. In an effort not to raise suspicion by the crew, fans, and press, Harry pretends to be his bodyguard. He ends up being far more than that.
27) A Silent Whisper (Thatâs Left Unsaid) | Explicit | 50,842 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
A Fake Relationship & Exes to Lovers AU ft a failed proposal ten years ago, an oblivious Harry, an overworked Louis, Zayn as the protective best friend, a meddling aunt and a lot of talks about weddings and rings.
28) Of Lost Things | Explicit | 57,890 words
Louis comes with a familiarity Harry has never felt with anyone else before. After their fateful meeting, their chemistry became undeniable, and soon after, Harry had felt like he hit the jackpot when it came to finding the person he would spend the rest of his life with. But all relationships come with their own unique problems, and Harry soon realizes that their relationship is no different. When their problems go from unordinary to nearly bizarre in nature, he takes it upon himself to find an answer to their troubles. What he stumbles upon are terrifying coincidences between his and Louisâ story, and the ill-fated mythological couple, Orpheus and Eury. But itâs all they are; just coincidences, ones that feel as frighteningly familiar as Louis. Except⌠what if none of this is a coincidence? What if everything Harry has always seen as fiction is true, and mythâor rather, history, is about to repeat itself?
29)Â In The Still Of The Night | Explicit | 68,568 words
In a society where omegas are expected to follow a predetermined path, Louis strives for more; for his voice to be heard, for recognition, for true love. In a world where your past defines your future, Harry fights against the system; for equality, for a different life, for acceptance. When their two worlds collide, will they be beaten down by conformity or will they rise up and forge a new path together?
30) Siren Calls Me Home | Explicit | 133,762 words
Harryâs father had warned him. King Edward of Erendor had whispered his suspicions that Prince Louis of Blackmont was descended from the sirens, monsters from cautionary tales Harry was told as a child. A cruel, cold-hearted, and vicious nature wreathed in a breathtaking exterior, with coy smirks and slow blinks used to bend everyone to his will. His beauty was as well known as his cunning, his greed, and his ruthless grab for power. Time only proved the rumors to be true, and Harry made sure to keep his distance from the prince, never once speaking to him, and doing his best not to even meet his eye. Unfortunately, the ghosts of whispered warnings are powerless when one is up against the very tangible experience of being in Prince Louisâ presence.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
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Just some words I've been needing to hear for a few weeks now and once I finally wrote them down, I thought maybe there were other people who might need to hear them too â¤ď¸
You don't need to be anyone's favorite writer for your writing to be good.
The worth of your writing is not measured by whether or not you're included in fic recs or the amount of comments/asks you get.
Your works don't need to be recognized as some of The fics of the fandom to be good or worth reading.
'Popular' writers in your fandom are also just writers (and humans!!) : you don't need to impress or be noticed by them to have a place in your fandom. Fandom should be fun so don't let your brain ruin it with a misplaced sense of competition <3
You don't need to post a fic every week to be considered a writer. You don't need to write every week to be a writer. There is no limited places in fandom: come and go as you want and as life allows you to. Post when you feel like it, there is no trend to surf on to stay 'relevant' as a fic writer or a content creator. Fandom will always wait for you.
Your writing is good, and the more you write, the more you find your style, the better it gets.
Your writing made someone's day. Your writing is helping the fandom stay alive. Your writing should make you happy, and that happiness should not be proportional to how recognized you are in your fandom.
I know it can be discouraging to see tons of fic recs in your fandom and none of them including your fics. But yesterday, when I was feeling down, I re-read my own published works because they were the stories I wanted to read. And I enjoyed reading them, so much. And that is enough to keep me writing, because it showed me there is no better person to write the stories I have in my head than myself (a huge progress considering months ago, I couldn't reread something I'd written because I was cringeing too hard to get through two sentences).
Find your people that will always hype you and your fics up: you and your writing don't have to appeal to every single person in your fandom. Write niche fics! Rarepairs seemingly no one brought up before! Include headcanons and takes and interpretations you've never seen written before!
Write the stories you are dying to read, and I promise you, you'll find other people who were hoping to find that story somewhere, too.
Your writing is unique because it can only ever be yours and same goes for your stories; your writing is worth reading and your stories are worth being written <3
#feeling really nervous about posting this because my brain is convinced people will think it's a dig when it is absolutely not#but they're the words I needed someone to tell me for weeks so if it can help anyone <3#so I really hope no one interprets them as a dig lmao#every work published is a blessing to the fandom#kind of my take on the write for yourself i guess#writing positivity#on writing#writeblr#writers on tumblr#writing encouragement#writing motivation
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i nearly anon'd the thorki non-con fic out of SHAME but in two weeks it's become my third most clicked-on fic of the year, behind only a multichapter fic and a bit of angsty sifki porn lololol
#this is about 560 hits btw which i know is not much for bigger fandoms and it's just that i tend to be in some weird niche but gosh!#i'd written thorki before but it wasn't e-rated so if the non-con tag really did work against it then wow no wonder ppl write this pairing!#you ever been to reddit where someone posts about how their latest fic only got 20k hits in a week and you're like âWTFâ?#and it turns out they're in some hugely popular fandom and that's the least read fic for that pairing on the entire site by a mile.#that's like glimpsing a parallel universe. what a strange place. why would any fic ever have more than 1000 hits omg!#and 1000 would be for if you wrote something Surprisingly Popular. like e-rated thorki non-con apparently is.#meanwhile 'cockroboros' may only have 35 hits but every one of those 35 people agrees that i was right to write that thing!!#and me and the other 86 people who wanted to see missy interact with jamie moriarty are besties now <3#SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I TURN THE NUMBERS BACK ON OH NOOOOOO THIS WAY LIES MADNESS!!!#the sifki one had a bump recently which i must assume came from one of those 'recced it in a discord but never said a word' incidents.#those are increasingly common and i hope i am not alone in finding them ever so slightly creepy#if you're going to look at me you need to at least pat me on the head to cancel out the anxiety of that damn it!#*flashes back to when i hid that one ten'n'donna fic because nobody would tell me where all the readers were coming from*#fic related#anyway i think it's important to mention i wrote thorki non-con fic in case anyone following me thinks i am Unproblematic in some way.
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wait, Derin how did your leaving make the hospital shut down?
I used to work as a live-in nanny for a pediatrician.
Now, the thing about hospitals in my country is that they are massively understaffed and massively underfunded. This is especially true outside the major cities. The staff are worked to the bone and receive little to no help in things like finding accommodation or childcare, making working in rural areas a very uninviting prospect; staff come out here, get lumped with the work of three people (because there's nobody else to do it), burn out under the workload and leave, meaning that those remaining have even more work because that person is gone. It's unsustainable and the medical staff are doing their best to sustain it, because people die if they don't, so to the higher-ups it looks like everything's getting done and therefore everything is fine.
My friend (and boss) worked one week on, one week off, swapping out with another pediatrician. This was necessary because it would not be physically possible for one person to handle the workload for longer periods of time. The one single pediatrician had to hold up the entire pediatrics ward, which was not only the only public hospital pediatrics ward in our town, but also the one that served all the towns around us for a few hours' drive in all directions. I regularly saw her go to work sick, aching, tired, or with a debilitating 'I can barely make words or see' level migraine, because if she took a day off, twenty children didn't get healthcare that day, and some of these kids' appointments were scheduled weeks in advance. She'd work long hours in the day and then be called in a couple of times overnight for an hour or two at a time (she was on-call at night too, because somebody had to be), and then go in the next day. Sometimes she would be forced to take a day off because she physically could not stay awake for longer than a few minutes at a time, meaning she couldn't drive to work.
Cue my niece's second birthday coming up in Melbourne. I'd been working for her for about 3 years, and she (and the hospital) had plenty of advance warning that I (and therefore she) needed one (1) Friday off. That's fine, we'll find someone to work that Friday, the hospital said. Right up until the last week where they're like "oh, we can't find a replacement; you can come in, can't you?"
No, she tells them; I don't have anyone to watch my kid that day.
Oh, surely you can hire a babysitter for this one day, they say. Think of the children! We really really need you to work that day. I know we said it'd be fine but we need you now, there's no one else to do it.
There are no other babysitters, she told them. Unless you can find one?
That's not our responsibility, they said.
But I'm not changing my plans, she's got plans by now as well, the hospital knew about this one day weeks in advance, and with absolutely no reserve staff they're forced to reschedule all pediatrics appointments for that Friday. Not a huge deal, it happens on the 'physically too overworked to get out of bed' days too. I go to Melbourne, she goes back to her home in Adelaide for her recovery week, all should be on track.
My niece gives me Covid.
This was way back in the first wave of the pandemic, and there were no Covid vaccines yet. The rules were isolate, mask up, hope. I had Covid in the house, and it would've been madness for my friend and her toddler to come back into the Covid house instead of staying in Adelaide. There was absolutely no way that a pediatrician could live with someone in quarantine due to Covid and go to work in the hospital with sick children every day. And no support existed for finding another babysitter, or temporary accommodation, so the hospital was down a pediatrician.
The other pediatrician wasn't available to do a three-week stint. They were also trapped in Adelaide on their well-earned week off.
Meaning that the only major pediatrics ward within a several-hour radius had no pediatricians. They had to shut down and send all urgent cases to Adelaide for the week. To the complete absence of surprise of any of the doctors or nurses; of course this would happen, this was bound to happen, it presumably keeps happening. But probably to the surprise of the higher-ups. After all, the hospital was doing fine, right? Of course all the staff were complaining of overwork and a lack of resources in every meeting, but they could always be fobbed off with the promise of more help sometime in the future; the work was mostly getting done, so the issue couldn't be too urgent.
It's not like some nanny who doesn't even work for the hospital could go out of town for a weekend for the first time in three years, and get the only public pediatrics ward in the area shut down for a week.
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the four steps between (best) friends and lovers
summary: Long-time best friends, it's not a surprise that it's you Steve comes to when he needs a fake girlfriend. One little white lie, one perilous family dinner, one evening of pretending to be a couple.
How hard could it be?
[ 12k + best friends to lovers + fake dating + fem!reader]



STEP ONE: THE PROPOSAL
"Be my girlfriend."
The glass held between your fingers slips and makes a loud bang as it hits the sink. The water from the tap pours over it, unaware of the incredibly unusual change in the universe that just occurred.
You tilt your head up, ignoring the lost glass, and raise your eyebrows high. "Come again?"
Steve huffs a little, as though you're the one being rather dramatic, and leans further forward across the island. His hands are planted firmly, his hazel eyes wide as he all but pouts at you. You're still grappling with where the hell that came from.
"Be my girlfriend. Please." He says. "For just one dinner, I promise. I swear I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't actually desperate."
You blink, clearly having missed a beat somewhere.
Frowning, you finally shut off the tap and rescue your abandoned glass from the bottom of the sink. You pick up and give it a quick once over for any chips. Scot-free, luckily.
"Okay, back up." You say, giving a small shake to clear your head. You make a face. "First of all, Harrington, ouch."
Steve sags a bit. "C'mon, you know that's not what I mean."
Not even a hint of a smile at your dig â which tells you he's probably pretty serious then.
"Secondly, what dinner is this? What could be so important that you have to show up with a faux-girlfriend on your arm?"
Steve properly slumps this time, a loud groan accompanying the languished movement. His forehead presses against the counter-top and you bite your tongue to avoid making an unhelpful, teasing comment about it. Instead, you refill the glass in your hand and wait patiently.
"IâŚ" Steve begins, his voice muffled against the counter-top.
"MybrotherisintownwithhisfiancĂŠeandIâ"
"Steveeee," You interrupt as you give in to the urge, leaning over and poking him in the head. "If you want my help, please stop mumbling into the counter and tell me the problem."
He doesn't move for a moment, still face down, but you can see the rise and fall of his back as he sighs deeply. He shifts, twisting so his face is no longer hidden. It's noticeably pinker than it was a minute ago.
"My brother is in town next week." He explains. "With his fiancĂŠe. And my parents really love to kick up a fuss whenever he gets brought up, whether it's, yanno, like, about jobs and shit or whatever."
Steve waves a careless hand out. He rises from his slumped position, tucking his chin into the palm of his hand.
"And, like, this time it was about relationships. It was all," Steve's voice pitches up, whiny and nasally. "When are you going to get a serious relationship like Brandon, Steve? When are you going to settle down, Steve? When are you going to stop being a disappointment, Steve?"
He huffs another sigh, this one tinged with more defeat. You feel your face twitch in sympathy.
"So, just to get them shut up IâŚ" Steve averts his gaze to study the counter-top suddenly. He draws an idle circle with his free hand. "I said that I was actually dating someone."
You take in his words. "But you're not."
"Thank you, genius. I had no idea." Steve straightens up with a scoff, throwing his hands out. Dragging them down his face, another groan warbles out of him.
"But now they're expecting me to show up to this dinner with someone â someone I'm dating â and I cannot admit I lied. So, please, be my girlfriend for one night."
You snort. His distress, a disaster of his own making, is just a tad bit funny. Just a little. A smidge. "Dude, chill. Just say your girlfriend is sick and she can't come."
Steve laughs mirthlessly. "That's like the adult equivalent of saying oh you don't know her, she goes to another school. No, I can't do that! C'mon, please."
His hands clasp together, raised in a plea.
"Think of it as one hugely, massive favour."
You take a moment to think it over.
"When is it?"
"This weekend, Saturday, 5 o'clock."
"Dress code?"
"Formal. Duh."
"How many people?"
"Uh, my mom, my dad, my brother, his fiancĂŠe. Maybe my uncle? Four or five."
Saturday was only a couple days away. He'd left it awfully late to askâand you're not exactly sure who else would step up for the job if you said no. For the first time since he threw out the insane suggestion, you properly consider it â and feel your face screw up instinctively.
You? Pretending to be Steve's girlfriend?
Sure, to some girls that probably sounded like a dream come true, but it hadn't ever been like that between you and Steve.
You weren't even sure if you could picture it, being tucked under his arm, receiving delicate kisses on the head instead of noogies. Your nose wrinkles again at the oddity.
It wasn't like people didn't like to speculate â men and women can't just be friends, after all â but getting on Steve Harrington's kiss list had never really been a priority to you. Would you even be able to pull it off?
Your mind casts out to the girls that Steve tends to date, nit-picking as you try to think of what separated you from them. While Steve would certainly vehemently deny it, you're pretty sure you can pick a pattern out from the array of girls. A type that you certainly wouldn't see yourself fitting into.
Steve just⌠doesn't go for girls like you.
Steve, watching you closely, sees the hesitation sink in. He leans forward again, bargaining face on.
"You can veto every movie we watch for the next month."
You squint at him. Raise your chin an inch, forcing yourself not to smile too obviously. It's not often you get to see Steve looking ready to actually grovel for something.
He narrows his eyes, catching onto your deviousness. "Fine. I'll pay for your shakes for the next month, too."
You take another moment to think it over, exaggerating the hmmm sound you make. You tap your finger against your chin, indicating you're not quite convinced yet.
Steve leans further forward, his expression inching toward a bitchy disbelief. A muscle in his jaw twitches.
He looks as though he might start another slew of scoffing, his tongue pressed into his cheek, before he seems to re-evaluate what's at stake here.
He says, "I will drive you up to Indianapolis onâ" He holds up one finger. "âone occasion when you ask."
Grinning, you stick out your hand for him to shake.
"You've got a deal, mister."
Steve sighs, his shoulders sagging in relief as he drops his hand to rest in yours. You give it a firm shake and just when you can see the thank-you forming on his lips, you tug his hand forward. You grin wider, almost taunting.
"I would've done it just for the shakes, just so you know."
Steve does scoff this time, ripping his hand back from yours. "You're an awful friend."
You bite down your smile, already dreaming of the free shake you'll be sipping all the way out to Indianapolis. You take a sip of your water and raise your brows at Steve over the lip of your cup.
"Hey. Don't you mean awful girlfriend." You wiggle your brows, not failing to see the hint of pink that colours Steve's cheeks.
Despite the colour in his face, Steve manages to deliver a long, unimpressed stare at you.
His eyes flick down your figure, clearly turning your words over in his head, then back up. As though he's actually realising what he's asked you to do.
He huffs another sigh, running his hand down his face. "Jesus Christ. This is an awful idea."
"Hey, it's your idea, not mine."
â
A stray blouse flies from the closet, landing in an unceremonious lump at the foot of your bed.
You toe at it gently, narrowed gaze travelling from the murky colour up toward the closet, to the perpetrator currently tearing your wardrobe apart. He doesn't even pause, hands still digging, almost resembling a dog burying a bone.
Sighing, you drop your head back, hair splaying against your pillow. The water-stain on your bedroom ceiling greets your sigh with silence.
You had thought that, while sure, yeah, the Harrington's are a fancy bunch, it ultimately wouldn't be that much of a hassle to step in as Steve's date.
You'd have to dig through your closet for the nicest thing you owned (and seldom wore) and you and Steve would concoct a ludicrous story that could be the next John Hughes film.
It would take an hour, tops.
A severe underestimation. Maybe the promise of one hugely, massive favour should've tipped you off.
"Are you being serious right now?" You moan from your place on the bed. You shift your head forward again, eyeing your best friend across the room.
Steve, still buried in your closet, makes a loud harumph in answer. His voice comes out muffled against the clothes, too swamped amongst the fabric. "âY'know, this wouldn't be so hard if you actually had anything wearable in hereâ"
You make a noise of indignation, tipping your head further forward. Your necklace shifts, the pendant sliding down the chain and hitting the comforter beneath you.
"And just what are you trying to say?"
Steve pauses for a moment, his hands halted on a pair of coat-hangers. He leans out from the clothing and lets his head loll back, his hazel eyes forming a flat stare.
"Har har." Steve says sarcastically. He turns back to the closet, the coat-hanger in his hand scraping as he pushes it along, assessing each piece with quick, attuned eyes. "I'm just saying you have a lack of clothing that my mother deems acceptable."
He turns back for a second. "Which is a good thing, by the way."
You hum in agreement, letting your head flop back onto your pillow. You've seen the pantsuits Cynthia Harrington wears.
Steve continues his barrage through your wardrobe, making a noise of disapproval every couple of seconds.
You also can't say you had expected to get started so soon; as in immediately post fake-girlfriend proposal. It occurs to you that perhaps you've said yes to something bigger than you expected.
"You're taking this really seriously." You comment.
"Yeah, well," Steve reaches in and tosses another blouse, this one pale-blue, on the bed by your feet. "I know you've met my parents before but they're, like, different when Brandon comes around."
"Different?"
"Like worse. Way, way worse." He draws a line with a flat hand. "Brandon makes them just soâ"
His hand curls up, forming a fist. He sighs, dropping it to rest on his hip. For a long moment, he stares into your wardrobe.
You push up on one elbow, brows knitting together. "Steve?"
Steve jolts lightly at your voice, torn out of his thoughts. He reaches out and plucks another blouse from your wardrobe, a maroon pleated one that you'd sworn you had thrown away. It's horrendous and definitely picked out by your mother. He turns and chucks it on the bed, crumpling atop the others and looks up at you, hands perched on his hips.
"Just, like, the smoother this dinner goes, the better, okay?"
You sit up completely, catching the seriousness leaking into Steve's voice. Damn. He actually sounds pretty worked up about the whole thing.
You smile, aiming for comfort. Even if you hadn't quite grasped what you had said yes to, Steve was still your best friend.
His parents were⌠difficult on the best of days. It was clear he was going for the least eventful, head-down approach as he could for this.
You could do that.
"Okay." You nod, more serious this time, eyeing the blouses on the end of the bed. You miss the relief that shutters across Steve's face. "We got three days til Saturday. What do you need me to do?"
"You can start," Steve says, spinning back to face your chest of drawers this time. His eyes flash over, with a hint of mirth. "By telling me if you even own a skirt that goes below your knees, you scandalous woman."
You laugh and get to your feet, wandering towards your drawers to pull open the bottom most one. Fishing around, you try to recall if you have anything church-worthy, tongue poking out your lips.
A hideous woollen skirt gifted to you for Christmas a couple years ago springs to mind. You shiver.
"Below the knee, huh?" You say. "You better start telling me about the role I'll be playing if I can't even turn up as myself."
You're only half joking. Your fingers curl around the scratchy fabric and you wrinkle your nose in recognition. Tugging it forward, it escapes the confines of your drawers and splays out with a sudden poof. You get the joy of remembering just how ugly it really is.
Twisting, you hold it up to Steve who has taken your place on your bed, laid back.
"Think this'll do?"
Steve's head perks up and he locks onto the skirt in your grasp. "Ugh, it's awful. Perfect."
You drop the skirt, abandoning it to take your place next to Steve on the bed. The springs creak slightly as your weight joins Steve's, the bed dipping and forcing you closer together. A smile sneaks onto his face.
"Okay, but for real," You jab a finger into the softness of Steve's side and he makes a little noise of complaint. "You've gotta tell me what I'm expecting for this, dude. It would be, like, catastrophically mean of you to send me in there blind."
Steve sighs â something he's really doing that a lot recently â and rolls toward you, propping his head up with one arm. The edges of his polo stretch as his bicep bulges. He frowns down at your comforter as he thinks.
"I don't know if I actually can prepare you for it." He admits, raising his gaze to look at you through his lashes. "Like, I think we're gonna have to just come up with a story and fend off the questions as best we can."
Another thought occurs to you. You frown. "Wait, don't your parents, like, know about me already?"
Steve's gaze darts away, this time staring at your comforter with a greater intensity. He gives a mirthless chuckle. "Yeah, well, that's why it'll work. They basically already ask me when we'll be getting together."
Your brows jump. A teasing grin taunts your mouth but you forsake it for a more helpful approach.
"Alright, then," You say. "Then let's do better than fending off the wolves. If I'm gonna be your fake girlfriend, I'm not gonna half-ass it. Let's knock the socks off your parents."
Steve's eyes jump up, meeting your stare and it takes another moment before he realises you're being genuine. You grin, poking him in the side again.
"And Brandon."
"Yeah?" Steve smiles. He sounds a tad awed at your dedication, his eyes roaming over your face gently. After a moment, he shakes his head, as if clearing his thoughts. "Okay. Uh, we have to come up with a backstory first."
"And it has to be one that your parents will believe too."
Steve nods, then pauses, a frown knitting together his eyebrows. "Wait, when did we get together? We can't have just started dating that'sâ like, almost as bad as showing up without a girlfriend."
You blink, perturbed. "What?"
"Oh, hey mom and dad." Steve says, his tone sardonic and flat. "Oh yeah, this is my girlfriend who I somehow started dating just one week ago, coincidentally just in time for this family dinner."
You cringe a little. He does have a point.
"Fine." You say. A little worry burrows into your brain â the longer you make your 'relationship', the more details you have to construct, to remember, and recall correctly.
You worry your bottom lip. "How long is long enough though? If it's too long, we have to remember more things."
Steve's mouth twists in thought. He gives a hmm.
"I think the last time you saw my parents was⌠sometime around New Year's Eve, right? They had that party, d'ya remember?"
You wrack your brain and find a memory with glittering fireworks and greasy hot-dogs. Steve had too much champagne and emptied his stomach into a bush. Faintly, the memory of passing by Mr and Mrs. Harrington fits in thereâ only for a moment.
"Yeah," You say.
Combing over the last years' events, you try to think if there's anything else you would've seen them at.
Graduation? You try to smooth out the wrinkles of that memory too; sunny day, sweltering gown. You hadn't remembered seeing Steve's parents there. "'Cos they didn't come to graduation, did they?"
"Nope." Steve says, popping the p. He rolls back to lie flat on your bed, folding his hands to rest on his chest. "What about after one of my basketball games? The final one of the season." He proposes, eyes tracking back to you.
You laugh without meaning to, spurred on by Steve's surprise.
"Really? At your basketball game? That's when the sparks went flying and we got together?"
Steve's mouth drops open an inch in offense. He throws his hands up. "What? That's, like, totally romantic." He defends. "Besides, it's a good reason for our friendship to have changed."
"You lost that game."
"I still scored!"
"Fine." You appease, laughing lightly. "We got together after you lost the last basketball game of the season."
Steve wrinkles his nose again. "Well, don't put it like that."
You laugh again, soft and light.
"Who asked who?"
"I asked you." Steve says.
You nod, carefully trying to commit the detail to memory. Your head spins as you try to think up the variety of different questions you might get asked at the dinner.
What sort of questions might his parents ask? Or his brother? They'll probably want to know the basics â how you got together, how it's going. You might get a shake-down to see if you're worthy of dating a Harrington.
Then, of course, there is the matter of ensuring you're a convincing couple. In love enough to be brought along to an exclusive family event.
That means⌠getting touchy. The thought sends a jolt through your stomachâ will you have to kiss?
You bury the thought. You'll cross that bridge and have it's subsequently unavoidable, awkward conversation when you get to it.
You're not sure who'll you will have more trouble convincing; Brandon or Steve's parents. But from what you know of Steve's family, you'd bet none of them know him that well.
For all you know, this could well be a walk in the park. Maybe the easiest free trip to Indianapolis ever earned.
"What's Brandon like?" You ask, trying to get a better sense of who you'll be fooling. "Do you think he'll ask many questions?"
"He'sâŚ" Steve's eyes shift from you to the ceiling, his mouth forming a flat line. "An asshole, like my dad. He's got this amazing talent for getting under my skin. Which usually includes undermining just about anything I have going for me in my life. Orâ" He gestures to you with a sigh. "âwhat I actually don't have going."
He rolls his head in your direction, his mouth twisted into a bitchy frown.
"He used to always rat on me to our parents when I was kid. He once got me in trouble for going to see Tommy just because he didn't want to walk me over. Said I disobeyed authority." Steve makes quotations with his fingers.
Your brows raise in disbelief. "Isn't he, like, fifteen years older than you?"
Steve huffs a mirthless laugh. "Yep. Told you, asshole. So, yes, he'll probably ask questions but I don't think he'll expect I'd do something as desperately pathetic as faking a girlfriend so hopefully we'll fly under his radar."
Reaching out, you whack Steve on the arm, relishing in his annoyed ow!
Eyes narrowed, you wait til he's looking at you with his what gives? face before you say, "What you're doing is not pathetic, nor is it desperate. It is an act of survival against your shitty family, okay?"
Steve stares at you for a moment before his shoulders seem to melt, the tension leaking from them. He flops his head back.
"Okay." He murmurs in agreement.
"Alright," You say. "Now, let's get this story straight. We got together at the final game of the season, which would mean we've been together for nearlyâŚ"
STEP TWO: THE ACT
Your legs itch and you fight the urge to readjust your tights for the umpteenth time.
Steve, in the driver's seat beside you, drums his hands against the steering wheel too rapidly to be casual. He keeps darting one hand to his mouth, teeth worrying at his thumbnail.
You'd reach out and smack him to get him to stop but you're beginning to feel the lurch of nerves yourself. The drive from your house to Steve's has never seemed so, so entirely too short.
"Okay, uh," Steve's throat clicks, clammed up from his silence for too long.
He hadn't spoken much when he had picked you up, other than to laugh at your joke at the mismatch of yourself and your prim outfit.
You'd ended up finding a double-breasted blazer in your mom's closet and you look almost ready to run as the local mayor. You're even wearing tights.
"We got together the 20thâ"
"âof June, last year." You finish for him.
Steve nods, his face still facing forward. His eyes look a tad unfocused, even as he reaches out to adjust the collar of his dress shirt. "Right. So we've been together for, uh, about ten months."
You nod encouragingly, checking the details in your head. "You asked me out. Our first date wasâ"
"âat The Hawk." Steve cuts in, parroting off your memorised answers. "We saw Labyrinth and, uh, then I drove you home."
That part isn't technically untrue. You and Steve had gone to see Labyrinth together back in June of last year, but it certainly hadn't been a date. You find the details lend themselves quite easily regardless.
"That's when we had our first kiss." You remind him, even if it makes your face heat minisculy. "What did you get me for Christmas?" You quiz.
"Uh," Steve's hand rabbits against the steering wheel, nerves evident. He finally breaks his stare from the road to glance at you, his brows furrowed together, eyes worried. "Fuck, I can't remember."
"It's fine," You stress, waving a hand. "You got me tickets to Billy Joel and we drove out to Indianapolis for the concert in April."
Steve nods a bit too manically, his perfectly coiffed hair coming a bit loose. The houses flashing by the window gradually get bigger, fancier. He bites his thumbnail again and this time you do reach out and tug his wrist away.
"Thanks." He murmurs.
He turns the wheel, the engine droning as the car takes the corner to enter his street. Your nerves hike a mile higher and you tug at your tights fruitlessly again. The street is lined with nice cars â not unexpected for Steve's neighbourhood.
What is unexpected is the sheer volume. You and Steve peer out the car windows, eyes wide, as you take in the full street. When you swallow, your throat feels particularly dry.
You turn to Steve. "I thought they said it was a family dinner?"
Steve, his eyes darting from car to car, either trying to find a park amongst the packed sidewalk or maybe just panicking like you are, takes a moment to meet your eyes. He looks a lovely shade of chalky white.
"They definitely did."
There's a free space down the end of Steve's street, the driveway already full with two cars, neither you can recognise.
Steve's foot hits against the brake too abruptly and the car jerks to a stop, rocking forward. You grip the edges of your seat tightly as Steve kills the engine. For a moment, neither of you make a sound.
"What if there's more than just family in there?" Steve croaks, turning slowly to face you.
The paleness in his face has pitched toward something greener. He swallows heavily, twisting back to stare out the windshield and his hands on the wheel tighten. "Oh my god, this isâ this isn't gonna to work."
"Steve."
"Valentines, we did Lover's Lake," Steve mutters to himself, eyes still out the window. "Fuck, this is so stupid."
"Steve," You try again. His own panic is worsening your own and if he continues to spiral, you fear you might never make it out of the car and you did not wear itchy tights for that to happen.
"You got me the Michael Jackson record for my birthday," He rattles off again, almost absentmindedly, as though his mind can't pick between panicking about trying to remember all the details or the apparent extra guests.
"This isâ oh my god, we're never gonna convince them."
"Steve." You say firmly. His head snaps around, broken from his mutterings. He blinks at you.
You take a deep, exaggerated breath in. Steve follows instinctively, his shoulders rising as he inhales.
"We will convince them." You insist earnestly.
Offering out your upturned hand, you wait for Steve to shift to place his bigger hand in yours. When he does, your fingers curl around it, cradling it.
You can feel the rabbit of his pulse at your fingertips and you meet his eye as you say, "We know each otherâreally well. We're best friends. We've practised, we look the part, okay? Now, all we have to do is⌠be a couple for an evening. It's going to be fine."
Steve swallows and for a moment, he doesn't say anything. Then his breath bursts out in a release of tension, his hand finally squeezing yours back. "God, what would I do without you?"
"Crash and burn, probably." You tease, thankful when unease hanging on his frame is replaced by something more familiar.
Steve makes an appalled noise, tightening his grip on your hand so you can't pull it back. His other hand moves, his fingers dancing across the ticklish skin on the inside of your arm til you shriek out in laughter, yanking your hand back.
Your laughter seems to have dimmed the nervousness a bit. You glance over your shoulder, down the street, and track an older couple dressed primly entering the Harrington home. As you turn back to Steve, you swallow to gather your nerves.
"Ready?"
Steve doesn't look like he is, his shifting, unsure eyes and stressing hands. He pushes his palms against his slacks and takes a sharp inhale, before meeting your eyes. "Ready as I'll ever be."
You count the steps up to the doorway without even meaning to, arriving at the Harrington doorstep in approximately 47 steps. The maroon double doors before you seem taller than usual. Steve raises his hand to knock and then halts, his attention shifting to his upraised hand.
He quickly tucks it back against his side, except this time with his elbow held out for you.
A faint pang of surprise in your chest, coloured with something softer, nicer. Youâve seen somewhat what Steveâs like on his dates and youâve certainly heard plenty of the aftermath. But youâve never been on one, of course.
As you loop your arm to nook in his, you find yourself unexpectedly eager to find out exactly what itâs like to be Steve Harringtonâs date.
Steve knocks on the door, then twists the knob and lets himself in.
Despite seeing the earlier guests, thereâs little to prepare you for the room full of people that stand on the other side of the door. Moving on instinct, clinging to Steveâs arm, you step through the threshold and into the lion's den.
Your nerves fry. Never mind lion's den; you feel more like a fly caught in a web. Frog boiling in a pot? No, that doesn't work because you know exactly what you were signed up to when you said yes to Steve.
Well, not precisely. You survey the crowd, counting at least three times as many people as you were expecting with nervous eyes.
Your little white lie with Steve just graduated to having an entire audience. No pressure, right?
âSteven.â
The croon of Cynthia Harrington greets the pair of you.
You feel Steve stiffen up beside you, his shoulders rolling back, his entire body straightening up. His throat bobs as he swallows nervously.
âMom,â Steve says. His voice is a bit dry and he swallows again. âYou didnât say there were going to be this many people here.â
Heâs polite enough to not word it as an accusation. His niceties donât work, bouncing off the painstakingly sculpted smile of a businesswoman.
âPlease, itâs a networking event, Iâm not sure what you expected.â She adjusts her diamond earring, swaying and heavy, as she speaks dismissively. âI told you this, Steven.â
You never hear anyone call Steve Steven other than his parents.
âNo, Mom, you didnât.â
Thereâs a barely restrained bite in his words.
That catches Cynthiaâs attention. She stops her roaming gaze to focus on her son, not even glancing at you. After a moment, she gives an exasperated huff.
âWell, why else would we be back, Steven? Your father is trying to close business with Mr. Collings.â
The sting isnât even for you â in fact, you donât even think she realises sheâs dealt it â but you feel it all the same. Steveâs arm looped with yours tightens, a minuscule motion.
Though you know he thinks theyâre all assholes, it doesnât stop Steve from hoping theyâll come back for him.
âRight.â Steve says, voice tight. âSure. Of course.â
Youâre just thinking about dragging him away from this barbed conversation, clearly pricking all his sensitive spots, when Cynthiaâs sharp gaze slides over to you.
Her eyes gleam in recognition and her posture changes.
âOh, is this the girlfriend youâve spoken of?â
This time youâre the one who stiffens up. Itâs momentary. You know that Steveâs likely freaking out too and at least one of you has to pull yourself together.
The most winning smile you can manage glides onto your face.
âThatâs me.â You squeeze Steveâs arm with your hand. It's half in genuine comfort, half in show.
Cynthia regards you for another long moment before she manages to straighten up further, as though pinched.
âOh! Yes, I recognise you. Remind me of your name, dear?â
Itâs a struggle not to grit your teeth. Steve and you have been friends for nearing ten years now.
Still, you relay it politely for her. Your smile feels a bit wooden now.
âOh, Steven. How nice.â Cynthia says, a touch of patronisation in her tone. Her beady eyes slice back to yours. âHe had such a crush on you for the longest time, itâsââ
âMom.â Steve hisses, cutting her off. Another unexpected jolt of something warm in your chest. Wait, really?
You chance a glance up at Steve. His ears are tinted pink.
Youâre not entirely sure what to make of how that makes you feel, so you shelve it for later. Maybe when youâre not being thrown to the sharks by Steveâs awful parents.
Okay, too many animal metaphors. Falling asleep to the Discovery Channel last night is definitely taking its toll.
âWeâre gonna mingle, find Dad.â Steve says hurriedly. He moves forward, past his mother, and tugs you with him. Your legs itch with the reminder of your scratchy tights.
âAlright, Steven. Make sure you say hello to your brother!â
Steve huffs, loud enough that you hear it, and you let him lead you through the throngs of middle-aged people. He stops when he reaches the kitchen, finally unwinding his arm with yours.
He does it so he can shove his hands in his hair, a stressed motion from Steve if youâve ever seen one.
âGod, okay, that went well.â He says sarcastically.
âStop. Youâre ruining your hair.â You reach up and rescue his lochs from his harsh grip, fingers around his wrists to tug his hands away. Youâre far too aware of how long it had taken him to do.
Steve lets you. When you focus on his face, you notice the pink from his ears is also on his cheeks.
The question jumps off your tongue, unbidden.
âWas she telling the truth? About⌠the crush? Or was she just trying to tease you?â
The pink dips closer to scarlet. Steve sighs, his eyes closing for a moment.
âIâ she- yes,â He admits. Your heart shudders at the revelation. Steveâs eyes open and he twists his hands so he can hold yours in them. âBut, like, not now. In the past. Years ago, I promise.â
For his sake, you do your best not to take it too seriously. Even if you wanted to pry, now is not the time nor the place to do so.
However, you canât resist a small, teasing grin. Steve catches it and his embarrassment gives way to exasperation instantly.
âYou likeeed me,â You say in a sing-song voice.
Teasing is not unfamiliar in your friendship with Steve and getting to joke around, even at this strange party, feels nicer. Steve groans dramatically, his eyes closing and his hands pushing against your hands to shove you away.
A new voice interrupts.
âLiked? I sure hope he likes you now, being his girlfriend and all.â
You and Steve both snap out of your easy joking, remembering that youâre supposed to be presenting as a couple. Head turning to who had spoken, it only takes a couple of seconds for you to place who it is.
He looks a little bit like Steve, but not really.
The eyes are different, not as slanted and he hasnât got any of Steveâs beautiful moles. But the nose, the mouth, put together with matching brown hair and tan skin, you know who this is without having to ask.
âBrandon.â Steve says. The name is stilted in his mouth.
Brandon smirks, his same hazel coloured eyes dragging a long, scathing once-over of his younger brother. He doesnât look impressed, if his disinterested expression is anything to go by.
Then he does the same to you.
Itâs almost tangible, the prickly feeling of his gaze raked over your body. Searching, hunting, nearly making you want to perk up to gain his approval.
God, Steve was right on the money. This guy is like his father but worse.
âThe eye-candy of the month, huh?â He says to you, chuckling as if heâs made a joke.
You consider, then make the decision to throw all pleasantries out the window. You donât smile back.
âActually, Steve and I will be coming up on one year soon.â
Tangling your hands back together as you say it, you lean into Steveâs side. Itâs warm, smells of his cologne. Only when you gaze up at him, do you let a smile grace your lips. Itâs soft and genuine.
Steve smiles back down at you, crooked and lovely.
âIâm surprised anyone could settle him down,â Brandon continues and you turn back to him, fighting the urge to narrow your eyes. It doesnât escape you how heâs jumped from one slight dig to the next.
Heâs clever with it. Polite enough that Steve canât exactly bring it up as an issue.
Brandon continues, swirling his crystal tumbler of whiskey idly. âSurprised he wanted to. Little bro always seemed like such a womanizer. Didnât think heâd want just one chick.â
He leans in and socks Steve on the shoulder, hard, when he says the word womanizer. Heâs grinning.
You have to admit, Brandonâs far too good at this â good at getting under your skin. If you hadnât been forewarned of his behaviour, if you actually were Steveâs girlfriend, it would certainly rub you the wrong way. Heâs certainly doing his best to sprinkle grit and strife between you two.
And you know it hurts Steve to hear â Sure, maybe when he was a thick-headed freshman, with no clue about the world, he had acted that way.
Nowadays... Anyone who knows Steve, even a little bit, knows he wants the real deal, more than anything.
âNot anymore,â Steve says, though itâs not nearly as confident as he usually is. He clears his throat and casts his gaze around. âWhereâs Ariel?â
âAh,â Brandon hums, looking around himself. He takes a long sip of his whiskey. âNot sure. I think I left her in conversation with the Ericksonâs from across the street. Sheâs been pleading with her eyes to be saved but hey, sheâs gotta learn sometime, right?â
Your lip curls up in distaste before you remember yourself. Fingers intertwined with Steveâs, you clutch them tighter for some semblance of strength.
Youâve got to get the two of you out of here before you start outright sneering at this man â which is very much not the heads-down approach Steve had asked for.
âBabe,â you say, effectively dismissing Brandonâs comment as you look up at Steve. He looks down at you and squeezes your hand. âCan we grab a drink, please? Iâm feeling thirsty.â
Steve murmurs his affirmation and you both turn back to Brandon to bid a polite goodbye. His left eye twitches just once, the only indication that heâs put off by your subtle rejection.
âWell,â Brandon fixes his features, his smirk sliding back into place. âDonât let me keep you. What was your name again, sweetheart?â
âI didnât say.â You say, forcing the politest, more nonchalant expression on your face. You let him stew in the awkwardness, waiting for him to break and ask.
He doesn't. Brandon just smiles, though this time it doesnât quite reach his eyes. He holds out his hand and despite how you donât want to, you place your own in it to shake it.
âWell, itâs been real nice getting to meet you. I hope Iâll see more of you later tonight.â He smiles like a promise. His grip tightens in the handshake.
You grip his hand tighter, matching his strength, and for the first time in the whole conversation, you match his perfectly fake smile.
âNot if I see you first,â You say, spoken pleasantly enough that the meaning of your words doesnât sink in until youâve pulled back. You urge Steve somewhere, anywhere thatâs not here.
âCâmon, letâs get that drink.â
Thereâs a punch-bowl out in the living room, thankfully. Displayed next to it is a large jell-o mould, arsenic green, and jiggling gently whenever someone bumps the table. Rich people stuff, you assume.
You eye it curiously as Steve quietly ladles a cup for you, then himself.
The punch is pineapple flavoured but peachy in colour. You sniff the cup Steve gives you hesitantly before you take a small sip. Itâs nice. Mostly juice.
You peer up at Steve over the next sip and the cup hides your near hiccup of surprise when his hand slides along your waist. His hand, warm and large, settles on the small on your back and urges you closer.
âThat wasâ wait, this is okay, right?â He pulls his hand back an inch, hovering over your waist. You nod without having to think about it.
âOkay,â He sighs in relief, resting it back down. His thumb moves, soothing along the fabric almost absentmindedly.
He grins at you, âThat was, like, amazing to watch. The whole ânot if I see you firstâ just, god, his face. Amazing.â His hand on your waist squeezes lightly. âYouâre amazing. I didnât know you could be so snobby.â
He says the last word slightly too loud and you laugh, worriedly stealing a glance around the room. No oneâs paying you much mind. You do notice, however, that Brandonâs meandered into the living room now.
You sidle closer, tucking up under Steveâs arm.
Surprise touches Steve's features; his brows raising a bit, lips parting, and cheeks colouring that ruby colour once more.
Itâs as if, despite all your previous agreements, heâs forgotten that youâre supposed to be acting like a couple.
As if heâs forgotten that couples act like this. In love, that is.
âAre you finding this weird?â He murmurs, volume control on this time. Itâs said just to you, muffled into your hairline.
From afar, you think it might look like heâs kissing your forehead.
You take another sip of the punch, peering at his dress shirt, and consider his question. Itâs not weird, per se. You tell him as much.
âI think itâs just new,â You look up at him â closer than you usually ever see him. His lashes are long and spidery. His hazel eyes are lighter under the lights. âJust different to what weâre used to. Itâs⌠nice, I think.â
âYou think?â
You expect Steve to tease you for your own unexpected soft answer but instead, his response comes out with a strange reverence.
If you had to pick a word, something traitorous would maybe call it hopeful. Wait, traitorous? Wait, hopeful?
"Yeah," You shrug a little, no big deal. "I mean it's not that much different from how we already are, right? Just a little more..."
Steve's thumb swatches along your back, more intentionally this time.
"Touchy?" He provides.
You nod and pretend the strange acknowledgement isn't making you feel a tad more flustered.
The touchiness is really quite nice. Itâs sweet to have an anchor in this freaky social situation, very much unlike the aforementioned and abandoned Ariel. Steveâs hand on you is a grounding touch, a constant soft reminder of the person who has your backâliterally.
And the person is Steve â which, again, isnât really that different from what youâre used to. He sorta always has your back anyway.
You suppose it hasn't really crossed your mind before, not in depth at least, the small changes that would occur if you and Steve really did date.
How different would it really be?
Chin tilting up, you slyly steal a look at him as Steve scans the party. He's probably planning escape routes, jaw clenched subtly. He's clean-shaven, not a whisper of that stubble that you think suits him rather well.
Would you still be friends, if the two of you dated?
The question feels silly the moment you think it, even if it's only spoken in your mind. You wrinkle your nose lightly and hide it behind another sip of punch. There's an easy answer to that.
Of course you would. It's like you just said: not that different from how you are now. Same teasing dynamic, same loyal history, same sharing embarrassing secrets and same driving around doing nothing, loving it.
Just more. More of this.
Steve squeezes your side warmly, his head twisted to look back down at you. He's asked you a question you realise.
"Hm?"
"I was asking how long do you think it's acceptable to wait to fake a heart-attack to get us out of here?â
Amusement draws your eyebrows up. You grin up at Steve. "A heart-attack? At your youthful, healthy age? C'mon, Steve, they'll never believe it."
Steve's expression twitches closer to bitchy as he considers your rebuttal. You take another sip of punch. He relents.
"Fine. What else? Iâm not above faking haemorrhoids.â
The punch in your mouth comes back out in a surprised splutter, thankfully landing mostly back in your cup. A drop of it streaks down your chin.
Your surprise quickly morphs into a glare, eyes shifting up to deliver it to your best friend.
The shit-eating grin on Steveâs face tells you that his timing was not accidental.
âYouâre unbelievable,â You hiss because what happened to the polite, head down, and not eventful approach that Steve had all but pleaded from you?
He reaches for a napkin for you without asking â and then tugs you in closer with the hand around your waist, brings the napkin up to your face. He hovers, giving you a moment to realise what heâs doing, before he dotingly swipes away the streak of juice.
âCareful now, honey,â He says, giving the petname a teasing intonation.
How he managed to pick the petname that does actually make your heart perk up in your chest is beyond you. Maybe he knows you better than you think.
âOh, thatâs how itâs gonna be?â You ask, brows raised, pretending to be annoyed. Your bitten-back grin gives you away. âMaking me spit my punch and then just sprinkling in a petnameââ
ââlike you didnât do that first, with Brandon in the kitchen.â Steve interjects. He crumples the napkin and drops it back on the table.
âOkay," You say. "Fair."
"We forgot to discuss that, actually," Steve says. He sounds casual but he looks away, studying the punchbowl rather intently. "What... like, do you like to be called? In a relationship?"
It is an oversight both of you managed to miss, which makes you feel a little foolish now. You focus on the question.
"I like honey," You admit gingerly. A tepid smile threatens at your lips and when you look up at Steve, he's already turned back to watch you closely. "It's a bit old-fashioned. Sounds more like something you say if you're married but...I think it's nice."
"Yeah," Steve says softly. "Me too."
Something hums brightly in your chest at his gentle expression, his fondness zeroed in only on you. You break his gaze to swallow, your mouth suddenly dry.
"What about you?"
Steve chuckles. "Don't like babe."
"Too late."
âYeah, well, obviously.â
Thereâs a beat and you think if youâve ever had this conversation before. Sweetened preferences didnât usually make it into your gossip sessions. This is new territory.
âI like sweetheart too,â Steve says, somewhat offbeat. As if heâd thought for too long if heâd say it or not.
He peers down at you, a scrunch in his nose. âNot like Brandon says it though. He mightâve ruined that one for me.â
âHe can ruin this dinner, but not that.â You decide for him. âCâmon, sweetheart. We look like weâre stealing all the punch.â
Using your hand in his, you lead him away from the punch table and weave through the people milling about the living room. A touch of resistance makes you glance back. You can see a pink glow painted on Steveâs cheeks.
Your feet come to a halt, twisting back to properly face him. You canât resist the urge to tease. âOho, you werenât kidding- you do like that one.â
âOh, shut up,â Steve murmurs, his tongue pressed into his cheek and his eyes narrowed.
âI donât believe I raised you so poorly as to address a lady like that, Steven.â
You jump at the intrusion, realising youâd unluckily managed to stop right beside Mr. Harrington. Fuck, why are all of Steveâs family so good at sneaking up on you? You chalk it up to their snakeish tendencies.
âDad.â Steve says hurriedly. Then, with a quick swallow, he corrects himself. âIâm sorry, sir.â
Mr. Harrington is not what youâd call an impressive man. Sure, his suit is tailored to fit and you have no doubt his overwhelming cologne costs more than three paychecks combined â but in substance? He lacks. Severely.
Youâve met him thrice.
Every time, you wonder how someone as wonderful as Steve, can come from someone like him.
Though, it certainly explains the god-awful âKing Steveâ phase Steve had gone through in his freshman and sophomore year. You shiver at the memory.
âIt was warranted, Mr. Harrington, believe me,â You jump in to move the attention of Steveâs father back to you, easily shouldering the blame. A smile, cool and collected, graces your face. âI was teasing him, after all.â
Mr. Harrington grunts in disagreement. âHardly an excuse to speak so crudely, especially in front of guests.â
Opening your mouth to defend him again, Steve speaks first. âYouâre right, sir. I apologise, it wonât happen again.â
Steve still shoots you a thankful glance. You clamp down your half-formed response and squeeze his hand instead. He squeezes back.
Maybe the two of you shouldâve learned morse-code with all the squeezing youâre both doing. You hadnât anticipated holding his hand for this long.
You could let go. You donât really want to â and youâre pretty sure, neither does Steve.
You canât remember the last time you held his hand.
âYour new girlfriend, I presume?â Mr. Harrington nods to you.
Steve barely gets a moment to respond when his father is waving him forward, stepping back to open a circle of middle-aged men behind him.
âCome, thereâs a few associates Iâd like you to meet, Steven.â
Thereâs no question, only a demand. Despite how it feels like stepping into a pit of vipers ��� damn you, Discovery Channel â you and Steve join the circle.
âGentlemen,â Mr. Harrington addresses the four men before you, a wry smile on his face. âMy son, Steven.â
Then, as an afterthought, with a glance your way. âAnd his girlfriend.â
âOh? Not fianceĂŠ?â One of the men speaks up. Heâs balding, his hair combed over in an attempt to cover his ruddy coloured scalp.
âIâm afraid youâre thinking of my other son, Brandon.â Mr. Harrington says, words suddenly imbued with a proud tone. Steveâs hand grows rigid in yours, though you donât think heâs even noticed. You send a squeeze back.
A different man speaks up. This man has all his hair, but also has a pot-belly that threatens to send buttons on his dress shirt flying.
âAh, well, fianceĂŠ to be, I bet.â He says, speaking directly to Steve and ignoring you. ���Soon itâll be the olâ ball and chain. Enjoy your freedom while it lasts, son.â
Then the fucker winks at youâas if youâre in on some big joke. A deep, miserable pity dawns in you for their wives.
âActually,â Steve begins. Thereâs an edge in his voice.
You glance up at him concernedly â sure, these guys are douchebags, but you know that. Throwing in the polite and heads-down approach in front of his father might be the worst timing ever.
âIâm not sure what you mean.â Steve says. The bite in his voice has receded and instead, he sounds calm. Polite. âMy girlfriend is one of the best things in my life. Sheâs smart, talented, beautifulâ and why she chooses to waste her time with me is a mystery to me.â
He speaks as though he believes every word heâs saying, a hundred percent. You realise youâre holding your breath when Steve turns to look down at you. His hazel eyes are soft, genuine.
âShe makes me a better person. Sheâs⌠Sheâs my best friend.â
The line between your genuine friendship and this fake concocted act blurs entirely â and suddenly, you canât tell what is real and what is not.
Worse, youâre not sure which you'd prefer more.
Does he really think all those things about you?
Steve, who should probably, definitely take up an acting gig after this, plants a quick, nimble kiss on your forehead to sell his loving words.
He turns back to his fatherâs business friends.
âBelieve me, if I ever get so lucky as to marry her, Iâd be the ball and chain.â He chuckles. âNot the other way around.â
Youâre still holding your breath, heart stuck somewhere halfway up your throat. The businessmen before you show varying amounts of surprise and annoyanceânone more of the latter than Mr. Harrington himself.
It doesnât matter. Steveâs said it all in that perfectly polite way thatâs so often been used against him. Something within you glows hotly with pride.
âNow, gentlemen, if youâll excuse us,â Steve says politely. He drops your hand to re-link your arms once more, then nods to them. âI need to reapply my haemorrhoid cream.â
Youâre pretty sure Steve turns you both away from the conversation as fast as he does, knowing that youâre gonna laugh. You do, his last sentence so unexpected it turns your laugh into this foul half hacking, half coughing noise.
Steve pats your back, expecting it, raising his voice as he walks you forward, âThere, there.â
Thereâs a little smugness in his tone. You wait until you pass back into the front hall â now Cynthia Harrington free â to unlink your arms and smack him on the chest.
âAsshole!â You exclaim, but youâre already laughing. Steveâs laughing too, the sound bright and honeyed amongst the dull murmur of the event. God, the looks on their faces.
âI didnât think you would actually do that.â
âHey, it got us out of the conversation, didnât it?â
âYes, but,â You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, gaze falling from his for a moment. âI mean, wonât your dadâŚ?â
Steve sighs and then shrugs. âI think Iâm done trying to impress people like that. If youâre not up to standard to them, why the hell would I care about their opinion of me?â
Your heart feels a little wobbly at that. Steve has always been devastatingly earnest; itâs just less often directed at you. The two of you are used to teasing.
You fall back on it. âAwww,â You coo, gripping his forearms and leaning forward with a coy grin. âYou got haemorrhoids for me, honey? Thatâs so romantic.â
Steve narrows his eyes, trying and failing to suppress his own smile.
âHey. Fake haemorrhoids, thank you very much.â
âEh, whatâs the big difference?â
âOne is my bleeding heart, the other is my bleeding ass, is the big difference.â
He can barely get through the sentence before his laugh takes over. You dissolve into laughter too, cheeks beginning to ache with the force of your grin.
âSteve? Leaving so soon?â
The sweet bubble of laughter around you and Steve pops at the sound of Brandonâs voice. Heâs in the doorway that leads to the kitchen and at your attention, he steps toward you, slow and deliberate.
âYeah, actually,â Steve says. His eyes track Brandon with every calculated step his brother makes til he stops, a few metres from you both.
âYâknow, I heard that hasty exit in front of dad. Did you know that was in front of Mr. Collings? Yâknow, the one guy dadâs trying to close a deal with?â
Shit. You swallow heavily. You didnât know that. You know neither did Steve.
Beside you, Steve grows tense. When he swallows, you hear his throat click from dryness.
Brandon watches and revels in the tiny reactions, his smirk growing. He tucks his hands into his suit pockets casually.
âI talked with mom, too. Learned some interesting stuff, especially about your pretty lady here.â
He nods to you, hazel eyes slicing across to meet yours. Your nerves start to stand on end, something threatening in his calm demeanour setting you off. You grip Steveâs forearms tighter.
âThat she is the best friend youâve been mooning over all these years. And I just thoughtââ Brandon clicks his tongue. âMan, what are the chances that we donât hear a thing about you two getting together until this conference? Crazy timing, if you ask me.â
He tilts his head to the side, examining the two of you closely. His smug nature is far, far too much like that of a predator toying with its prey.
âItâs like- wait, noââ
Brandon cuts himself out, fishing a hand out his pocket to gesture to you, grinning smugly like something is funny.
âIs he paying you?â
You recoil back, so baffled and taken aback by the cruel mockery Brandon jumps to make of his younger brother. To make of your best friend.
âWhat the fuck is wrong with you?â You snap.
Brandon blinks, surprised, and a bit of his smugness dries up. He draws his hand back, holding it up defensively.
âC'mon, like it's not just the kind of pathetic move heâd pull. I havenât even seen the two of you kiss.â
He chuckles as if the idea is ludicrous.
STEP THREE: THE KISS
You act without thinking â turning back to Steve, your hands reach up to tightly grasp the collar of his dress shirt.
You see Steveâs hazel eyes widen ever-slightly, then youâre pulling him down, pressing up on your toes, and kissing him.
And⌠oh.
Heâs not half bad at that, you think. It takes Steve a moment, but then his arms circle your waist and after a tentative moment, he kisses back gently, deepening the kiss. Not bad at this at all.
For one brief, precious second, youâre kissing your best friend.
And it's entirely incomparable to any kiss you've experienced beforeâimmeasurable in passion and utterly undoing in a thousand ways.
Steve breathes a little heavier, his cheeks flushed, when you break away. You sink back down off your tiptoes, hands dragging off Steveâs rumpled collar to rest on his chest. You turn to face Brandon.
He doesnât look so smug anymore. He looks ticked off. Good.
âBrandon, youâre an asshole.â You state plainly. âI hope one day, soon, your fiancĂŠe realises what a cruel and shallow bully you really are. And I hope she leaves you for it. Truly.â
The ticked off expression on Brandon's face veers closer to aghast and offendedâas if he canât believe you have the gall to speak to him that way.
âI hope you realise what a stain you are on other peopleâs life and I sincerely hope that I never have the displeasure of meeting you again.â
Moving to grip Steveâs hand in yours, you move towards the door without a goodbye.
STEP FOUR: THE AFTERMATH
Itâs bright outside. Stepping out feels a bit like waking from a stress dream, where in reality, the sun is shining and things that were driving you nuts aren't really problems you actually have.
You stall on the front doorstep, where you were just an hour or so ago.
Well, that didnât go⌠awfully, you think. In fact, youâre feeling quite happy with serving Brandon a perfect brand of his own medicine.
Youâre about to open your mouth and say as much when Steve drops your hand, brushing past you to head down the stairs, âCâmon, letâs go.â
Your stomach drops at the tone of his voice, a prickly disappointment draped over his words. Youâd think youâre reading into it â if Steve wasnât currently heading for the car, not even waiting for you to catch up. A dead giveaway.
Tights itching from the hasty movement, you quickly follow him and puzzle for a moment. Heâs mad. But at what? It takes only a moment to hazard a pretty good guess.
Before the dinner, the awkward conversation of how touchy you two would be had been breached. You and Steve both agreed; no kissing. Even with how close the two of you were, it felt like strange territory to cross into. An unspoken line not to cross.
By kissing him, youâd broken that rule.
Guilt wells up within you. Your moment of telling Brandon to suck it suddenly feels tainted by the sliminess of kissing Steve without permission. You pull at your tights uncomfortably, trailing behind Steve on the sidewalk.
As you reach his car, you swallow the lump in your throat, and speak up.
âI'm sorry, okay?"
Steve, who's reached the driver's side door, looks up and over the top of the car. Then furrows his brow.
"What?"
"For..." The word gets stuck in your throat like wet paper. "Kissing you when we said we wouldn't do that. That was-" You inhale sharply and study the trim along the edge of the car window.
"I just really couldn't stand how he was talking to you. And I thought that would shut him up."
You glimpse back up at Steve. He's softened a little at your words, the crease between his brows gone now. His eyes dart away, a muscle in his jaw working tightly.
"Yeah, well, you were right. It worked."
Steve seems to hear how short his words sound right after he says them, especially as you rear back an inch. He gives a sigh, his eyes falling shut for a moment. "Look, I'm not mad about the kiss, okay?"
His particular wording isn't lost on you.
"But you are mad." You press.
"I'm not."
You step closer to the car, desperate to understand. He is mad but he's not mad about the kiss? Does that mean he is or isn't mad at you?
"You sound mad."
Steve makes a sputtering noise, like he's torn between denying it or not. You catch it, pressing your hands against the car window to lean in even closer.
"So, you are mad. At me? Are you sure it's not because of the kiss?"
âYes. No." He's furrowing his brow again, confused between how to answer your question correctly. He pinches the bridge of his nose with another sigh. "Itâs- no, I'm not mad at you.â
Still not an exact answer. You eye him warily, your guilt still lingering at the front of your chest, aching painfully. It forces out your next words, reminiscent of a rambling apology. You take a step back from the car and begin to pace.
"It's okay if it is the kiss, Steve. I- I mean, we said we wouldn't and I broke that- and I don't want you to ever feel likeâ"
âI justâ I didnât want our first kiss to be like that!â
That halts your pacing, feet quite suddenly rooted to the spot. You turn rapidly back to Steve, your eyes wider than they were a moment ago, heart jammed back up your throat. Did he just say...?
Steve realises what's escaped him a moment after you do. His hand leaps to cover his mouth as if he can smother the secret he's just let slip.
His eyes crush closed. He smushes his hand against his face more forcefully as though he's trying to push the words back into his mouth.
"What does that mean?" You ask softly. "Steve?"
He clears his throat, dragging the hand down and off his face sluggishly. "That, ah, no- nothing!" He deflects, hands making a crossing motion. "It meansâzilch. I just, ah, you know- it'sâ"
He's thought about it beforeâabout how he'd want a first kiss between the two of you to go.
A glow in you dissolves, the saturated sweetness of it riding through your veins like a sugar rush. You have a sudden wish you weren't wearing such a ghastly outfit for this conversation.
"Steve," You interrupt him. You round the front of the car slowly, stopping with still some distance between you. Let him meet you in the middle. If you're right about all this, that is.
"If there's even a small part of you that wants to do that again," Your breath shudders at your inhale. "You need to tell me."
"A small part?" Steve echoes your words, his tone incredulous. He rounds the car to meet you, his hands out in front of him, flexing into fists. "Don'tâ don't say what I think you're going to say, if you don't mean it."
He pauses in front of you, eyes blazing with a fierce emotion as he stares down at you. He studies your face and then groans, tipping his head back and burying his hands in his hair.
"It's a big part, y/n. A huge fucking part of me wants to kiss you again and has wanted to for awhile." Steve stresses. His hands sag down from his mussed hair to hang off his neck before he gestures back to the Harrington house.
"What I said in there? About my crush on you being ages ago? I lied. I've had a crush on you for years and I don't think I ever stopped and so if you donât mean what I think you mean, please donât⌠Donât give me hope.â
There's desperation in his final plea.
A thousand emotions course through you, all competing for your attention. You squint incredulously at Steve, half tempted to sock him for the feeling of a kept-secret. You're best friends for gods sake. Years. Years, he said.
A tremble takes your heart. You open your mouth and try to find the right words.
"Wha... You never said anything."
It comes out a little insulted.
Steve stares at you, flabbergasted. "You never seemed interested!"
"I didn't think I was your type!"
Though it seems impossible, Steve's eyes widen further, his hands shifting to hold out before him, fingers spread wide.
"Are you saying you've thought about it before!?"
"No!" You exclaim, suddenly stressed. You run your hands across your face agitatedly. "I mean, yes. Of course, I've thought about it before!â
Your fingers splay against your cheeks, pulling an expression not unlike the painting The Scream. You're not sure you've ever been this stressed, this undone before.
âEvery day through fuckin' high school someone asked me if we were a thing. I just... hadn't, like, considered it til today. Properly."
"Okay, okay," Steve breathes in deeply.
He brings his hands together, clasping them, and he rests them against his forehead. For a second, he stares at the ground before he meets your gaze, dropping his hands.
"And... now?"
Fuck. Right. Cards on the table, you guess.
"Like," You don't know where to put your hands now. They drop off your face and hang loosely at your side. "I told you, I hadn't really, like, thought about it â but we were in there and it just wasn't that different!"
It's a heavy effort to keep yourself looking at Steve. There's no decoding the expression on his face, not when you're already frantically trying to unscramble your own feelings.
"If we did actually, yannoâ" You stumble over the words, a fierce and bumbling heat flaming your face. "âdate and beâI don't knowâboyfriend and girlfriend, like, I guess what would actually change? And now I think we've just been one step removed from dating this whole time!"
Steve takes an almost quivering breath in and takes a step forward, bringing you both closer. He asks the million-dollar question.
"Would you... want that?"
"I," You flex your hands anxiously. "I don't think we can go back to the way things were." You say truthfully.
Something crestfallen ripples across Steve's face. It's hidden away in the next second. You gulp involuntarily. You feel so nervous you can feel it's fizzing inside you, bubbling like a freshly carbonated drink.
But more than that, it feels like you're balancing on the precipice of something good. Like waiting for news on whether you get something you desperately want.
And there it is; the true revelation.
"And I don't think I want to."
The admittance hangs between you, strung out and tinged with your apprehension and Steve's disbelief. He stares at you, brown hair tousled and messy, pink lips parted in his surprise.
He's your best friend and he's been waiting all this time. Holding the torch quietly, the flame flickering low sometimes, but always burning, always for you.
How the hell did you miss it?
"You..." He croaks. He reaches up and tugs at his tie as if it's suddenly too tight around his neck. "You mean that? You'd want to, like, date me?"
What you really want is to kiss him again. To chase away the tender look of disbelief in his eyes with a passionate press of your mouth against his. But you won't kiss him without asking twice in one day.
"I would like to try," You say. It takes a lot of courage to not lose your nerve. You rock up onto the balls of your feet to let out some of the rampant nervous energy.
Steve clocks it, some part of his brain that knows you, and all your tells well, finally coming back online. You're as nervous as he is, and maybe just as unsure.
But you want to try.
That's about all Steve's ever wanted. A chance for more between you.
He closes the distance between you, his hands shifting up and sliding along your neck to cup your jaw. It's ticklish enough to make you shiver and Steve smiles at the motion. He draws your faces closer and you push up on your toes to reach properly, magnetically drawn in.
He pauses just before your lips can touch.
Your eyes scan his face and he does the same to yours, both of you drinking in the intimate closeness. This close, you can see the tiny quiver hidden in his lips.
Fondness percolates between you, sweeter than sunlight and softer than a daydream. You can't resist the smile that toys at your mouth. Steve smiles too.
You're excited.
His pupils are blown wider than usual, only a ring of hazel around them. It might be your new favourite colour.
"I imagined," Steve murmurs lowly, his eyes now trained on your lips. "Our first kiss would be more like this."
The kiss is different from the one in the hallway. There's no surprise in it, no hesitance â Steve cradles your face between his hands preciously and kisses you so fiercely you ache.
He kisses with painstaking reverence. With an unfaltering adoration. Steve kisses you as though he envies anything that's ever touched your lips.
You grapple to find purchase on his suit jacket, your fingers curling around the material and pulling him closer without breaking the kiss. Steve hums into your mouth, his nose pressing against yours. You're both trying to pull each other closer.
"That was-" You breath heavily against his mouth as the kiss breaks. Your eyes open. Steve's gazing at you through his lashes, honey-eyes doting.
"You-" You try again, realising you haven't finished your sentence. You can barely get a word out, a relentless grin overtaking your lips. "I meanâyou thought it- like that?"
"I hoped." Steve whispers. He's grinning too, not yielding any of the nearness between you. His thumbs on your jaw swatch softly across your skin.
God, he'll undo you entirely. This newness, this intimacy, it's ruining you. You capture your bottom lip with your teeth and bite it meanly to try to contain your grin.
"So, like, you wanna try? For real?" You say, matching his whisper. Speaking too loud feels like it breaks the momentâand you want to savour it as long as you can.
You can't even imagine how Steve must be feeling, waiting all those years. You take your feelings and multiple them tenfold. It's dizzying. It only endears you even more.
"Like, being boyfriend girlfriend?"
Steve's eyes crinkle in happiness as he scrunches them closed for a moment. His nose scrunches a little too at the motion. He takes a deep inhale and opens his eyes.
"Dating, boyfriend girlfriend, sweethearts, I don't care what you call it." He breathes. "Yes. Yes, to all of it."
Then he kisses you again, stealing the affection off your lips with an ardour that threatens to make your knees weak.
You kiss and kiss until you and Steve are both smiling too much to properly continue.
Only a couple days ago he'd asked the same question you had asked him, except as a begged request to help his ruse. He's the only one you'd have said yes to, you know now, the only exception.
One can only wonder how the two of you would have carried on if you had said no â never gone along with his frankly ridiculous plan, never showed up on his arm to fool an event full of people, never kissed him just to piss off his brother.
Never known the true depths of affection Steve held for you.
As you crowd in closer â your lips skimming across his gently, hearing the hitch in Steve's breath before you kiss him once moreâ you're thankful you'll never really know.

taggin some peeps below! @illyrianbitch @headkiss @brettsgoldstein @spideystevie @djotime
@katsu28 @inthehystericalrealm @djarinova @cheugyphobe @sunshinesteviee
@sunlitide @citrinesparkles @bigfrogs
just ppl that either expressed interest in the preview or i thought would enjoy! <3 i don't know what possessed me to pick this draft up and straight up like double the word count and finish it in one day but whew,,, i enjoyed that sm
#if u think this has nick & jess energy from new girl you would be correct; i took insp from their first kiss hehe#heavy inspo tehe#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve x reader#steve harrington fluff#steve fluff#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfiction#best friends to lovers#fake dating#getting together#ruby writes steve#I HAD SO MUCH FUN I HOPE IT DOESNT FLOP#also yessss i did reuse a line from a different fic in this one no one point it out pleek
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â all of me
- gojo satoru x reader
you understand that some things in marriage just needs compromise. and he soon understands too, when you're at your most vulnerable and he fails to be by your side when you need him the most
genre: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship (you're married & have a son!) argument, feral gojo, mentions of injury & blood, fluff
note: if it isn't obvious by now i'm in the mood of angst-hurt/comfort this week HEHE :)) this is longer than the usual love entry, so i hope you'll enjoy it!
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
Bantering with your husband is not uncommonâin fact, it happens on daily basis.
"Satoruâ I'm talking to you!"
But having serious arguments with him is another matter entirely.
Your fists tightening at your sides, facing his unamused expression. How insufferable is he? You told him that everyday, but right now, he's truly surpassed previous levels of infuriating behavior.
"And I can hear you, sweetheart," he retorted, casting a glance your way. The term of endearment he used for you sounding almost like a sneer to your ears and you felt offended.
"I don't think you're taking this seriously," you griped, trying to calm your emotions, still balling your hands. "Someone is following our son on his way back from schoolâhow can you be this... flippant?!"
Numerous photograph of your son exiting the school building from different angles had arrived in your mailbox, and if it wasn't a creepy warning from those who placed a target on his back, then you didn't know what it was.
Satoru let out an exasperated grunt. "I'm telling you, I'll pick him up for the rest of the week. No one will lay a hand on him."
You gritted your teeth. "And I'm telling you, they're trying to make you do just that. Even morons know not to mess with youâ they're leaving hints, and you're taking the bait!"
Contrary to what you believed, Satoru felt just as worried as you upon knowing that someone might have marked his precious son, who was now six years old and had recently started attending preschool.
But this is where your approaches differ. You are always the cautious one, overanalyzing each detail, while he leans towards being impulsive, often resorting to brute force.
"Who do you think can stand a chance against me?" Satoru challenged with a real sneer this time. "Remember my words, wife, no one is going to hurt me, you or our baby. I'll end them where they stand."
"That's not the point!" you threw your hands in the air, irate. "Satoru, they're going to take advantage ofâ"
"Look, I don't want to argue with you." Satoru's gaze was hard on you, his tone clipped, and it made you stiffen. "His safety comes firstâ and you, of all people, should know I'd never let anything happen to him. You need to quit nitpicking and have a little faith in me."
"I know you are more than capable, but you are notâ!"
And then he said it, and his words piercing through you like a knifeâ
"Don't compare me to you," your husband remarked a little too coldly. "I can do things you can't. Just rest your pretty head, I'll take care of the rest."
Nevermind that he blatantly dismissed your skills as a jujutsu sorcerer, nevermind that he totally didn't listen to you at allâhe just went and made himself look like some sort unparalleled god, forgetting how much his hubris could actually take him.
And all these thoughts only made you angrier.
"So be it then." You tried desperately to hold yourself from shaking because you'd be damned if you showed it to him. "A word of advice, Satoru: beware of your arrogance."
With those words, you spun around, marching off toward your son's room, because no way in hell was you going to sleep with that obnoxious prick tonight.
But when you caught the sight of your baby scuttling away from the gap in the door, a fragment of your heart crumbled. Oh. He has seen it all.
In Gojo Satoru's mind, he is made of two things: a powerful jujutsu sorcerer and a family man.
With his immense strength, comes a certain responsibility. And with that responsibility, certain habits have formed. If you just took a few seconds to breathe and looked back throughout the past decade he'd spent with you, you'd know that in factâ
It was also his way to shield you. Satoru stands by the principle that you and his little boy must be protected at all cost, and he most certainly would pull all stops to do just that.
But frankly, he couldn't deny that he felt insulted by how defiant you were. Did you really think he would let anyone ever touch yourâhisâson? He wouldn't, they'd meet his wrath first and you should've known that.
Still, something akin to guilt nudged at his conscience as he lay alone in your shared bed that night. It felt strange not having you cuddling him. He felt empty.
. . .
None of your shampoo-scented pillow, none of your nightdresses, all of it replaced by a single photo hanging in the wall and the urn of ashesâ
Abruptly, he jerked his eyes open, shaken from the most dreadful nightmare he had experiencedâ
Of you no longer by his side.
âMama.â Your little boy looked up to you with his doe-blue eyes in the next day, his hand gripping yours. âIâll be fine.â
You were accompanying him to the preschool. While Satoru had requested Ichiji to drive him, you insisted on tagging along to keep a watchful eye as well. You'd leave your husband to pick him up later just as he wanted.
âHuh?â you turned to him, tilting your head.
âI'll stick by Uncle Ichiji's side the entire time,â he replied in a murmur. âAnd papa will be picking me up too later. If there are bad guys, they'll get him first.â
You bit your lip, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Your boy witnessed your outburst last night and hadn't inquired about it until now, and even then, he was trying to reassure you.
âSo⌠donât fight.â His round, cerulean eyes then darted towards you, blinking hesitantly, causing you to catch your breath.
He looks so much like Satoru. At six years old, he was the spitting image of him, except his personalityâhe took after you in that area. It was as if your son was a softer, more innocent version of him. And your heart twisted, remembering your argument last night.
Don't compare me to you.
With a sigh, you bent down to be eye-level with him and managed a smile, holding both of his little hands. âIâm sorry⌠it was just misunderstanding last night, okay? Donât worry.â
ââŚreally?â
âReally. Mama and papa were just tired,â you tried to reason, a thin smile on your face. "It's going to be okay, just like you said, yeah? Papa will beat the bad guys out there."
âWill he pull through...? If they bring a knife, and he's just there laughing, they can cut him.â
A giggle escaped your lips at your baby's innocent wonderings, easing the ache in your heart as you recalled how Satoru humored him in so many ways.
You gently poked your son in the cheek. "Nah, do you remember what he always goes on about?"
He puffed up his cheeks in response, his expression turning sour as if combing through memories of hundreds of shenanigans Satoru had instigated to recall his words. You let out a hearty chuckle, finding him so adorable.
"He's strong, he's going to win. He always does."
"Oh. Mmm." Your son scrunched up his nose cutely, before looking away and squeezing your hand. A sincerer smile bloomed in your lips, heart melting at the sight of your growing munchkin.
You will protect him. And maybe you could patch things up with Satoru later that night. Maybe yesterday you were just too paranoid.
That was the plan... at least until your son suddenly screamedâsomeone wrenching him from your grasp. Without a second thought, you reacted, flipping the attacker away from you and him.
. . . and that was the beginning of how everything started to unravel so terribly that day.
"Gojo-san...! There's been an incident!"
He got that call right after he finished some things with Yaga. Satoru teleported to the preschool right away, only to be greeted by a scene of utter chaos.
Several teachers stood outside the building, and police officers were present at the scene. It was all a blur of cursed energy until his eyes caught sight ofâ
His little boy, red-faced and obviously in fear, was clinging to Ichiji, who was frantically making calls. Some teachers gathered around him were seemingly trying to coax him to speak.
He didn't waste a second to dash towards him, tearing through the crowd.
"Are you okay? Hey, buddy, what happened?" Satoru pulled him away from Ichiji and turned him over, crouching to his level to check for any signs of injury or harm.
And upon seeing him actually here, his son's eyes immediately welled up with tears, and Satoru felt a chill run through his veins as he broke into sobs, which quickly turned into heart-wrenching wails.
"Mamaâ! F-find mamaâ!" the little boy choked out through his tears, clutching onto his shirt tightly and crumbling in his embrace, thoroughly inconsolable.
Satoru's sharp gaze quickly swept over the scene, seeking any clues, while he tightened his hold over him. It was then he noticed traces of your cursed energy mingled with blood.
They hurt you.
"Hey, kiddoâlisten to me, it's going to be alright, yeah?" Satoru said, gently pulling away to wipe away his tears, holding the boy's face tenderly in his hands. "Go with Ichiji for now, okay? I'm going to bring mama back, I promise."
He didn't need to be told twice. Your son is always obedient when it matters the most. He gave him a small nod, still shaking with tears.
"Don't worry," he flashed a reassuring smile and ruffled his hair. "I'm the strongest, remember? I'll get her back," he vowed once again. "She'll be fine. Wait for me until then, yeah?"
Ichiji was ready to leave as he had called for those in headquarters as backup in case anything were to happen again. Trusting him to keep his son safe, Satoru took off as soon as he could no longer see the sight of his son's tear-streaked face trying to watch him as the car pulled away.
"I won't repeat myselfâ where is my wife?"
Satoru wasn't playing this time. He skipped past taunts and just plain threats. These little fries, he thought.
The man he held by the throat was in a lot of distress. "Hyaaa! It's him! Please, please, let me go! I'm acting under orders!"
He then flung him across the wallâ might have added more cursed energy than necessary.
At the moment, his entire focus was on trying to locate you. He couldn't let his mind wander to anything else; in fact, he didn't permit himself to.
It didn't take him long to piece together the general location of where you were through the residual of your cursed energy. They stationed several hooligans in this abandoned warehouse to stall him, but he got rid of them quickly and he could sense that you were close by.
"It's Gojo Satoru!"
"Run! Ruuuun!"
What a pain. They picked the wrong person to mess with, and Satoru's lips curled into a manic grin as he opened his palm, pulling them inâ
"Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue."
Chaos erupted as the building collapsed around him. He hoped you would realize he was here and manage to avoid getting caught in the wreckage. He was sure you'd know though.
And true to his thoughts, soon he found youâ blasting your attacker away with a powerful kick.
Satoru thought that you were a sight to behold, really. And he was about to call out to you when he felt it.
It happened almost in an instant. The way his heart dropped to his stomach, and how his body reacted, barely whispering the incantation for Red as he shot it at something lurking behind youâ
At that moment, the only thing you were aware of was the foul stench of a curse. Time seemed to stop before the overwhelming force of Red expelled it away from you.
But before then, you experienced a searing, white-hot pain that scorched through your flesh and pierced your abdomenâ
"Y/Nâfuckâ!" The voice that came from Satoru's throat was raw and laden with panic.
He pulled you against him protectively as you collapsed, blinded by pain. He immediately felt warmth spreading across his lower bodyâyour blood was rapidly drenching his shirt, and he felt a shiver down his spine.
You held onto him tightly while suppressing your scream, feeling every bit of your strength drain away along with the dark crimson blood that poured out of you.
"âtoruâ" you managed to croak amidst the scalding pain, curling and whimpering in his hold.
"Heyâ sweetheart, pleaseâ" his voice rang in your ears, as he pressed down on your wound. His hands were shaking, and you clawed at him and groaned in agony. "I-I'm taking you back nowâ You're going to be alright, yeah?"
The wound was beyond anything you had experienced before, causing you to cry out and gasp for air. It was almost as if something fried your insides. It was hard to stay conscious.
"I've got you now. You're going to be okay." His voice was coarse, as he hurriedly carried you out. And he tried not to let the full-blown panic take over him when your body went limp in his arms, your breaths slowing, head lolling in his chest.
"You're going to be alright! You hear me, sweetheart? You're going to make it. Our babyâ he's waiting for you. I promise you, you're going to be fineâ"
Perhaps he was trying to tell that to himself, because despite the excruciating pain, a wave of reassurance washed over you.
You were in the arms of the strongest sorcerer alive, what more could you possibly afraid of?
A special grade curse. They had actually unleashed a potent curse and likely aimed at him as their final cardâuntil it veered off course and struck you, leaving a searing gash across your abdomen.
Satoru felt numb as he sat in the waiting room in his bloodied uniform. You got hurt so terribly right in front of his eyes, and all he could feel was this profound void that seemed to bore through him and pierced his soul.
He was supposed to protect you. He said it to your face that nothing and no one would touch your son, and it was in his wedding vows that he'd protect you with his life too.
And yet what happened?
If only he was faster. If only he was able to pull you to him and protect you with his infinityânone of this shit would have happened.
Seeing your face twisted in agony and smeared with blood made him feel sick to his stomach. Inside that OR, you hovered on the brink of life and death, and he was here, unable to do anything.
Satoru rested his head against the wall, feeling a sharp pain surge through his chest. He remembered waking up to your face every morning, the way your touches felt, and how you had brightened his world for the past decade. If he lost you now... he wouldn't survive it. He would wreck anything, everythingâ
"Papa!" and came his voice of reason. Satoru immediately discarded his bloodstained jacket by instinct, throwing it away before his boy could see it, with Ichiji and Megumi closely trailing behind.
His son crashed himself into him and threw his little arms around his torso, cryingâand in that very second, the thump of his heart sounded louder in his ears. Somehow it felt like a knife that twisted his insides.
"Hey, kiddo." Satoru repositioned him so that he would sit on his lap and hugged him, patting him in the back. "There, there... it's alright, yeah? Mama is inside, she'll get better soon."
Your little boy pulled away and wiped his eyes, and Satoru chuckled as he helped him blow his nose. His child was incredibly adorable, and his actions mirrored yours to such an extent that it made Satoru's heart soften.
"Mama g-got hurt trying to... tell me to g-go..." the boy suddenly said amidst his quieter sniffles. "And... she s-said... papaâ i-is strong and g-going to win..."
You believe in him. Ignoring the ache in his chest, only able to reply him with a "Yeah..."
Not long after, Shoko emerged from the operating room and informed him that the surgery had been successful, though you would likely need to have a one-week stay in the hospital for observation. He intended to move you to the VIP suite and stay the night there, but then he remembered his son, who was holding his hand.
Satoru crouched down and patted him in the head, fixing him a smile. "See? Mama is okay, but she needs to sleep here to get even better. Now you go home first with big brother Megumi, yeah?"
Your son adored Megumi and often begged you to let him stay over at his place, but this time he looked hesitant, fiddling with his little fingers. "Really? Mama will be home... soon?"
"Mm-hmm, the more she sleeps here, the faster she'll go back home, alright?"
And with that, his baby nodded and Satoru turned to Megumi with a nod. "Thank you for this, Megumi."
The boy whose life he had once saved on some sort of a whim, now grown up and shared the same concern he had for you, Fushiguro Megumi had never before witnessed his benefactor expressing such sincere gratitude for anything before.
When you came to, your body felt as heavy as lead.
The discomfort in your abdomen made you flinch, and you almost let out a groan until you turned to your side and saw him.
Satoru was asleep while sitting in the sofa next to your bed, dark circles evident under his eyes. It might have been your imagination, but his cheeks appeared to be slightly red too.
You tried to recall what had happened to you when it came backâyou urging your son to run away as you let yourself being taken away, almost escaping from that warehouse, the flash of excruciating pain, and Satoru's stricken voice.
So he must've been here since last night. Any remnants of your disagreement seemed to have vanished, seeing him there with you, barely covering himself with the blanket, with a frown still marking his forehead even in his sleep.
You wanted to reach out to him until the movement sent a sharp jab to your stomach and you cried out a bit.
In that split second, Satoru's eyes jerked open, and realizing you were awake, his gaze locked onto yours. "Y/Nâ" But your strained whimper and expression told him everything. "Does it hurt? I-I'll get Shoko, waitâ"
And then he hit the call button. Throughout it all, he kept a firm grip on your hand for reassurance. A few minutes later, Shoko arrived and examined your wound, subsequently administering painkillers to alleviate your discomfort.
"It's going to leave a scar," she explained grimly, showing the mangled skin where the curse had made its mark on you, and seeing that, Satoru clenched his fists.
Shoko sighed, empathizing with her friend's frustration. "It's going to fade with time, don't worry. You did well, Gojo. You brought her here quickly. Had you been even slightly later, there could have been an irreversible damage to her organs."
But your husband remained quiet, unable to bring himself to look at you. And after she left, you tried to finally voice your question to him.
"O-ourâ"
"He's fine," Satoru immediately answered, squeezing your hand. "Our boy is fine. I'll tell Megumi to visit laterâhe's with him."
A sigh of relief came out of you. "Thank... goodness."
But his expression seemed to fall even further after hearing your response. Satoru settled himself on the seat next to you and lowered the rail on your bed, allowing you to be even closer to each other.
"Do you not feel any pain anymore?" he asked then, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He looked so sad, a stark contrast of how he usually was, and it bugged you.
"No... I feel fine now."
"Then, can I hug you?"
Of course you nodded without a second thought, and carefully, he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you close and resting his face on the crook of your neck.
You knew what it was. Satoru was still visibly shaken by what had happened to you, and he wasn't great at expressing himself, so he tried to find consolation through this physical closeness instead.
"I'm okay..." you patted his back, trying to convince him. "I'm alright now, yeah?" But to your surprise, suddenly his whole body started to shake. "Satoru...?"
ââŚâm sorry.â His voice was barely above a whisper as he nuzzled you. âI shouldn't... have let you get this hurt...â
It always amazes you how Satoru always gets this distressed whenever you sustain any injury. You had seen him cry precisely two times nowâonce after you gave birth to your son and experienced severe bleeding, and now.
"It's not your fault..." you whispered in response. "You... have protected me well."
He held you tighter, his tone faltering. "I didn't."
"You have..." you stroked his hair, trying to convince him. "I'm still here, aren't I?"
Hearing you say that made Satoru's chest ache. The thought of something like this happening to you was unimaginable, and now that it had, he couldn't come to terms with seeing you hurt right in front of him.
"Don'tâ" he choked on his voice, his breath trembled against your neck. "Don't ever put yourself in danger again. If something happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself..."
You couldn't make that promise. Despite the pleading in his voice, you knew deep down that your son's lifeâand hisâmeant more, and given the chance, you would obviously save theirs for yours.
âSatoru... I love you, you know that, right?â
So you simply embraced him close, hoping that in this life, you would live long enough that he would never have to see you like this again.
Epilogue
"Papa, how do I become stronger?"
Satoru blinked when his son asked him that so innocently and curiously, taken aback as he led him to your private room later that afternoon. "Oh? What brought this on?"
His first and only son, a perfect miniature of himself, pursed his lips. "I don't want Mama to get hurt again..."
Satoru's heart warmed at his babyâs sincere words, and despite himself, he chuckled.
"What's funny?" his son leveled a glare at him. "I'm being serious."
"Well, aren't you such a good boy? Don't worry, kiddo, I'll teach you my ways~"
"What ways?"
"Well, no need to rush, pumpkin. First of all, you will have to harness your skills and then you have to be more like meâ"
"Do I have to be like you� Is there no other way?"
"â? What's wrong with being more like me?"
"Everything...?"
#đđđŁđ đđđĄđđđđ #gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk angst#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk gojo#gojo fluff#gojo angst#jjk x you#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo satoru imagines#gojo x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru fluff#satoru gojo fluff#jjk x reader fluff
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give me tough love đ¤ [s.jy]

Jake's always liked pretty things, and you're the prettiest he's ever seen. Another thing about Jake? He always gets what he wants.
â pairing â jake x afab reader
â word count â 12.9k
â tags â omegaverse/abo dynamics, alpha x alpha, one-sided enemies to lovers (?), jock!jake, cheerleader!reader, jake is highkey a huge virgin & loser in this, jealousy and possessiveness, weed and smoking
â smut tags â pwp, unprotected p in v sex, lots of power play/switching dynamics, mild dubious consent, overstimulation, degradation & dirty talk, lots of spit and drool (they're nasty for each other), virginity kink/inexperienced kink, service top!jake, breeding kink, oral sex (f receiving), tl;dr just lots of nasty smut
â warnings â alpha x alpha dynamics if u r not into that! also as always, not proofread
â a/n â monster of a fic is finally done! pls reblog or leave me asks/comments if u enjoyed hehe that would make me very happy :3
minors dni.
⪠give me tough love, leave me with nothing when i come down my kinda love, push me and choke me 'til i pass out
âşâ§âË ŕ˝ŕ˝˛ââąâŕ˝ŕž Ëââ§âş
One thing to know about Jake: heâs possessive.
Itâs not one of his best traits, but itâs something he canât help. Itâs in his bloodâhis DNA and chemistry. He doesnât believe in whatâs mine is yours or whatâs yours is mine, to him itâs bullshit. Heâs an alpha, at the very top of the food chain. So why should he share something thatâs his? Thereâs no such thing as ours in Jakeâs book, and heâd spill blood before he lets someone have something thatâs his.
Maybe he has a problem, but he never admits it until you. Rather, it never became a problem until he met you.Â
Itâs unavoidable, youâre unavoidable. You, a cheerleader in his year; nice ass, long legs, pretty face. How could he have helped himself?Â
Jakeâs always liked pretty things, and youâre the prettiest heâs ever seen.Â
Jake was doomed from the start.
âDibs.â
Sunghoon turns to Jake in surprise, mouth parted and sweat sheening on his forehead, sparkling under the sun. âWhat?â
âI said dibs,â Jake repeats, looking across the field to where the cheerleaders are practicing with the rest of the team. He wipes his forehead with the bottom of his jersey and points with his free hand, âThat one, I call dibs.â
âYou canât just call dibs on someone like theyâre an objeââ Sunghoon squints, following his finger. âDude, _____? No fucking way. She doesnât even know who you are.â
Jake scoffs, tossing a football right into Sunghoonâs chest. âYeah, not yet.â
Sunghoon winces, âYouâre fucking weird. Have you heard what people say about her? Sheâs supposedly really bitchy. And sheâs an alpha. Itâs never going to work.âÂ
Sunghoon hisses the word alpha out like itâd keep Jake from doing something rash. Jake sees it as a challenge.
âDoesnât look like it.â
âYeah, well youâre too blind to be staring at anything other than her ass.â Sunghoon tosses the ball back to him before calling in the rest of their team. âSo, no. You canât call dibs on her.â
Another thing about Jake: he gets what he wants. Not because he needs it and never because he deserves it, but simply because he wants itâand god, does Jake want. He craves you more than anything heâs ever wanted, desperately now just because Sunghoon says he canât have you.
So Jake doesnât listen to Sunghoon, his mind already far past made up. He decides at that very moment: you are going to be his.Â
Jake has a small problem: you hate him.
Saying you hate him is an understatement.Â
He doesnât know what it is, it could be the fact that heâs been shamelessly hitting on you for weeks, but he isnât too sure.
Okay, he isnât exactly hitting on you, but he thinks heâs made it very clear what his intentions are. Very.
âJake Sim.â You spit, glossy lips curling into a frown, your signature pretty pout on display.Â
âWere you waiting for me?â Jake smirks, kicking the locker room door closed behind him as he walks out and swinging his duffle bag over his shoulder.
âWhy are you telling people that weâre fucking?â You cut to the chase, crossing your arms and glowering at him. Jake thinks youâre cute, and god, this only makes him want you more.
Youâre a few feet too far from him, which Jake fixes easily. He closes the distance between you both, leaning against the side of the wall and grinning at you with a smug smirk, one that he knows gets under your skin.
âWhat can I say? Futuristic thinking. Manifesting.â
Jake watches as you furrow your brows, your pretty pout deepening further as Jake places a hand on your waist. âWell, you need to stop.â
âStop what? No use when theyâre all thinking it already.â
You huff, frustrated. âStop going around and telling people weâre fucking when weâre not!â
âWhy not?â Jake questions, just to push your buttons further.
âBecause weâre not!â You snap. âJake. Iâm an alpha, youâre an alpha. Whatâs not clicking?â
Jake hums, tilting his head. âDo you have a mate?â
âNoââ
âAw, really?â
âNo!â
Jake squeezes your waist once, twice, before sliding his hand further, resting his palm against your lower back. Leaning down a centimeter, he pulls you closer, until your hips are pulled flush against each other. âThen whatâs the problem?â
When you sigh, he can practically taste the mint gum off of your breath. you maintain eye contact, squinting and leaning in further to prove your point. You press a finger against Jakeâs chest, âYou. God, youâre such a fucking sleaze.â
Jake places a hand over his chest, right where your finger just was, feigning hurt. âSleaze? Angel, thatâs so mean.â
âIâm not an angel, Jake. Iâm an alpha. Leave me the fuck alone, Jake.â You say, before turning on your heels and stalking off. Jake watches you go like a predator stalking his prey, his eyes trained on your ass.
Jake feels a hand on his shoulder, and he turns to meet Sunghoonâs questioning gaze.
Jake shoots him a shit eating grin, shrugging his shoulders. âShe wants me so bad.â
Sunghoon shakes his head in disbelief before squeezing Jakeâs shoulder pityingly, hand falling to his side after. âOf course she does. Come on, lover boy.â
Jake prides himself in being patientâpatience is a virtue, or something like thatâso heâs not surprised when things change the night of the party.
Sunghoonâs omega is hosting a party for her cheer team (something about celebrating a win they had at a competition, but Jake is really only there for free alcohol) and if Sunghoon is invited, Jake is too. Best friend perks.Â
âYou guys are late.â She says, greeting Sunghoon with a kiss when he opens the door for them.
âSorry baby, blame Jake.â Sunghoon slings an arm around his omegaâs shoulders, her arm coming around to hold his waist like it belongs there.Â
âYou guys are sickening. Absolutely fucking sickening.â Jake gags exaggeratedly, pushing past the pair and making a beeline for wherever the alcohol is.
He makes it past the crowd of sweaty bodies, pushing his way through to find the kitchen. Jake finds it easily, knowing Sunghoonâs omegaâs place like the back of his hand. The kitchen is packed with people pouring cups of something from a bowl, and others hanging around the clutter of bottles on the table.Â
Jake follows suit, filling his own red cup with some kind of red punch, when someone shoves him to the side, hard enough to have punch spilling from his cup and onto the countertop. Heâs about to turn and say something when he sees a familiar varsity jacket.
âGet out of my way.â
Jake scoffs, worrying the inside of his cheek as he watches you fill up his cup. âSeems like youâre the one following me around. Careful, people might get the wrong idea and think that youâre the one who wants to fuck me instead.â
You pause, huffing before tossing the ladle back into the bowl. You turn to him fully, taking Jakeâs cup right out of his hand and pouring the remnants into your own. âGet your head out of your ass, Jake. Iâm just filling up my cup, you just happened to be here.â
âYeah, filling up your cup with mine. Itâs like you want me, or something.â Jake smirks when you roll your eyes.
You glower at him. âShut up.â
âYouâre so cute when you try to play hard to get.âÂ
You down your drink in one go, shoving it against Jakeâs chest after crushing your cup in your hand. âEat my ass.â
âGladly!â Jake yells over the music as you leave the kitchen. He laughs, amusement filling his chest. Jake licks his lips, pushing himself off of the counter to follow you out of the kitchen.
Jake bumps into Sunghoon and his omega as heâs about to leave. He grimaces at the sight of Sunghoon already sporting a few small hickeys on his shoulders. âYou guys are sickening, did I tell you that? Because you guys are disgusting.â
She flips him off. âShut up, ass eater.â
âYou heard that? So you agree that it was an invitation, right?â Jakeâs lips curl downwards at the sight of Sunghoon hanging off of her, arms wrapped around his omegaâs neck. Gross. âIâd be mad about the fact that you guys keep forgetting that some people are single here, but I donât think Iâll be single for much longer.
âLeave my cheerleaders alone, Jake.â She retorts, rolling her eyes.
Jake waggles his eyebrows playfully. âNot my fault that your cheerleader is hot.â
Sunghoon interrupts them then, ânice talk, but we have places to be. Bye, donât come find us,â before shuffling aside and leading them both into the kitchen.
Jake scoffs to himself, mumbling something about how gross they are before remembering why he left the kitchen in the first place. He searches the crowd for his target, squinting when the flashing LED lights burn his eyes. His eyes roam the room, scanning over people dancing, hanging around in corners, making out on couches, before he finally sees you.Â
The sight makes his blood boil. There you are, sitting pretty in some douchebagâs lap. Jake laughs under his breath, tonguing at his cheek, seeing red at the way the guy seems so enamored with you. He probably thinks heâs the shit with a pretty cheerleader in his lap. Jake wonders if the guy is an alpha too.
Jake is about to say fuck it and go get you back himself, when someone elbows his side.Â
âWanna smoke?â He turns to find Riki, whoâs dangling a bag of pre-rolled joints in his hand.Â
âI thought youâd never ask.â
A few minutes later, Jake and Riki are seated on a couch just a few feet away from where you are.
Riki takes a drag of the joint before passing it to him. Jake takes a hit, eyes still trained on where youâre fucking laughing against the guyâs chest. He clenches his jaw, running his tongue along his teeth before exhaling. Jake can be funny, too.
âYou good?â Riki asks, raising his brows at him. Jake is losing control of his scent now that he has alcohol and weed in his system, and he canât bring himself to reel it in when youâre still in the guyâs lap.
Jake rubs a hand across his face, then takes another hit before shoving the joint into Rikiâs hands. When the guy places his hand on your waist, just shy of creeping into the waistband of your pretty little skirt, he sees red. âYeah, justâbe right back.â
Jake canât stop himself from walking right up to you. You notice him right away, Jakeâs scent enveloping you as soon as heâs a few steps away. He towers over you, smiling sweetly. âBaby, whoâs this?â
The guy looks between the two of them, quickly shuffling to the side and tossing you off his lap. âShitâSorry man, I didnât know she was claimed.â
Jake smirks, filled to the brim with satisfaction and pride. Jake swears the guyâs tail would be between his legs if he had one. He looks down at you, whoâs glaring at him with a curled lip, and he remembers why heâs mad in the first place.Â
âWhat the fuck is your problem?â You say, then standing to be toe to toe with Jake. Theyâre a ticking time bomb by now, both so close to exploding, and Jake feels as though the time is up. Jake is done with the games, he just wants.
âYou. Youâre my fucking problem.â Jake growls, taking a hold of your hand and leading them away from the living room.
To his surprise, you don't resist like he thought you would. âJakeââ
You let him lead them into an unoccupied bathroom, only narrowing your eyes at the way Jake locks it behind them. âWhat the fuck are you doing?â
Jake crowds him against the door. Your head knocks back at the sudden movement, eliciting a hiss out of you. The music is muffled from inside the bathroom, and heâs sure that you can hear the way heâs breathing heavily. He lets out a ragged breath before taking your jaw between his fingers with more force than necessary.
He can feel your pulse thumping against his fingers, matching the bass reverberating through the bathroom. He tilts your face up, his grip bruising. âWhat are you playing at?â
It doesnât surprise Jake that you are allowing this, even though heâs an alpha. Jake knows that you also enjoy the game they play, he knows that you like the push and pull. Something tells Jake that you like being treated like this, if the sudden spike of arousal of your scent is anything to go by.Â
âWhat do you mean?â
You have the nerve to look innocent with your cheeks squished between Jakeâs thumb and forefingers, like Jake canât smell you at all, like your scent isnât flooding the bathroom along with Jakeâs.Â
âI mean,â Jake stops himself when your scent gets too heavy, making his head spin and his dick throb. He inhales sharply, bringing your face closer. âWhat do you think youâre doing? Sitting on that guyâs fucking lap?â
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â You say, grinning, trailing off into a wince when Jake squeezes just a tad tighter.Â
âYou know what Iâm talking about. You wanted me to see? Is that it?â He releases your jaw, only to grip your hips instead. âYou knew Iâd be there, youâre doing this on purpose.â
The arousal in your scent when Jakeâs fingers dig into his flesh only gets heedier, and Jakeâs mouth waters when heâs hit with the smell of grass and mint and tea and the air charged with your pheromones andâholy fucking god, Jake wants to devour you whole, every last bit of you.
You only swallow, eyes flicking down to Jakeâs lips. Your breath is sweet, still smelling like the mint gum you chew every day, when you speak. âYouâre fucking insufferable.â
âShut the fuck up.â Is all Jake says before he closes the distance between you two.
Itâs at this moment that Jakeâs brain short circuits, reminding him that heâs never done this beforeâthis being anything remotely sexual, aside from short makeouts with randoms heâs never cared for. You can most likely tell by the way their teeth clash together messily, but when Jake bites at your lip, you only whimpers in response.
It makes Jake want to laugh. You, who used to tell Jake that because theyâre both alphas they canât be involved, is now speechless, at Jakeâs mercy.
For what he lacks, he makes up with enthusiasm. You gasp against his lips and he takes his chance to slip his tongue inside, licking over teeth and gums before pushing against your tongue. You don't let up easily, still fighting for dominance. Jake trails his palms down to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh there, and you break the kiss to gasp for air.Â
Jake nips at your jaw, and his chest rumbles with satisfaction when your head lolls to the side, practically submitting for him like he wanted. He trails kisses down from your lips to your neck, tongue coming out to lick at your throat and leave marks against the skin there. When he reaches your scent gland, you gasp, hips bucking against Jakeâs when Jake grazes his teeth over it, licking tenderly.Â
âYouâre soâfucking annoying,â you breathe out, words getting cut off when Jake bites down at your throat. He sucks a spot right above your scent gland, biting with the intent to hurt. Jake relishes in the way you whine, and it only spurs him on further.
By the time he leans back, your neck is already sporting fresh bruises and adorning marks that Jake canât believe he left himselfâthat he canât believe you let him leave. The mere sight fills him to the brim with pride.
âWhat the fuck are you looking at?â
âFor someone who was just panting like a dog, you have a lot to say.â Jake bites back, using the hand he has on your ass to pull your hips closer against you.Â
You have the audacity to glare at him with glazed eyes and spit-slick lips, and you look so wrecked that Jake wants to retort more, to push your buttons further, but he knows that this is already enoughâas an alpha, youâve already allowed him to do so much. Youâve already given him more than enough.Â
âYouâre an asshole.â You pout.
Jake just scoffs, shutting you up with another kiss. He licks along your lips, biting down when you don't willingly submit to the tongue prodding at your mouth. Your chest rumbles with a growl at the feeling, and Jake grins against your lips at the metallic taste of him breaking skin. He sucks your lip apologetically, sucking the flesh into his mouth to soothe it.
He gasps against your lips when he feels your hand come down in between them. Your hands trail lower before meeting his bulge, and Jake realizes that heâs embarrassingly hard. You hum, and Jake knows that your alpha is satisfied. You squeeze him over his pants once, before dropping to your knees.
Jakeâs brain lags. âWaitââ
You look up at him through your wet lashes, and the sight is already enough to have him nearly close to coming in his pants. ââWaitâ? You brought me in here, and now youâre telling me to wait?â
âNo, Iââ
âWhat? Youâre acting like youâve never gotten head before.â He sees the moment it dawns on you, who scoffs. âNo fucking way.â Jake swallows, words lost and his mind clouded and fuzzy. You laugh, throwing your head back. âYouâre not a virgin, are you?â
He bites his lip, not knowing what to say back for once. âThatâsââ
Your lips quirk up at the corners. âYouâre all talk and no fucking bite.â You unzip Jakeâs jeans in a flash. âWho wouldâve thought, Jake Sim is a virgin.â
Jake opens his mouth to rebuttal, his alpha and ego taking hits at your words, but once you tug his pants down low enough to see Jakeâs cock straining against his boxers, he canât find it in himself to say a word.Â
âGod, youâre a fucking loser.â You shake your head, and Jake can tell youâre enjoying the role reversal, finally having the upperhand over him.
He sees the prideful look on your face when your words draw a faint whimper out of him, and he feels momentarily embarrassed, cheeks hot with mortification. Heâs supposed to be an alpha, but here he is, putty in the hands of another alpha. Jake hates the fact that he likes it.
âYou were going around telling people weâre fucking when you havenât even fucked anyone.â You grin, palming at Jakeâs bulge. âSuch a disappointment of an alpha, hm?â
Jake groans lowly, and shame fills his chest as he bucks against your hips, seeking your touch out. âShut up.â
You let out a laugh, squeezing the head of his cock. âYouâre so wet already, practically soaking, just like an omega.â
Jake huffs. He reaches out to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling another hiss out of you. âYou gonna suck me off or what? Youâre the one whoâs all talk and no bite.â
âAm I?â You tilt your head. âYou think youâll even last a few seconds?âÂ
Jake opens his mouth to retort, to say anything in rebuttal, but heâs silenced at the sight of you getting up. You pull him close with a finger tucked into the waistband of his boxers, leaning in to bite at his ear. You tug them against the door, Jake stopping himself from hitting into it face-first with a palm against the wood.Â
He gets no warning when you slip a hand into his boxers, gripping him loosely and tugging his cock a few times. The slide is dry, making Jake hiss out a curse as you squeeze him at the head again. He sighs in relief when you pull his cock out, the cold air enveloping him.Â
âSuch a shame, you have a dick like this and you donât even know how to use it,â you stroke him slowly, almost as if youâre bored. âPathetic, really.â
âGet on with it already.â
Jake chokes on a whine when you suddenly grip him tightly. âDonât talk to me like that. You were telling everyone that weâre fucking, so if you wanna get your dick wet then shut the fuck up.â
He pants, nodding his head. You grin, picking up the pace again. âYouâre pathetic.â You kiss Jakeâs cheek, thumb applying pressure to the head of his cock, digging into the slit.
Jake nods again, whimpering out a please. âYouâre so pretty like this, Jakey. When youâre not being a fucking bitch.â Your lips are warm against his ear. âBut maybe if you last long enough, Iâll even let you fuck me.â
Itâs embarrassing, really. The way your words make his stomach churn with arousal and his hips stutter, causing him to fuck into your fist. Itâs even more embarrassing that you calling him a bitch and the image of him even being able to get close to your ass has him coming within seconds. His cum coats your hand as he spills into your fist.
Mortification fills him to the brim, his face and cheeks getting warm. The shame is hot, and he burns when you laugh at him.
âSeriously? I barely even touched you, how are you going to ever fuck me like this? I donât fuck people that canât even last a fucking minute.â You release the hold you have on Jakeâs cock, pushing Jake off of you. âAnd I donât fuck virgins.â
Jake closes his eyes, inhaling shakily as he falls back a step. Hot tears run down his cheek, and he canât bring himself to open them to meet your gaze. âIâIâm sorry.â
âYouâre sorry? And now youâre crying. Jake,â he opens his eyes at this, looking at you through blurry vision. âGod, youâre a mess.â
You step around him and close the lid of the toilet down, the slam resounding throughout the bathroom. You settle on the seat, squirming until youâre comfortable. Jake doesnât know what to do anymore, too embarrassed to even speak. His breath catches in his throat when you tugs your skirt down mid-thigh, rubbing yourself over your panties.Â
You beckon him over with a hand. âJake, come here.â
Jake inhales shakily, trudging over slowly until his shoes knock into your sneakers. You tut at him. âNow sit.â Jake drops to his knees immediately, and you hum in satisfaction. âGood boy, now watch me.â
You spread your legs, and Jake chokes, mouth suddenly too dry. He canât seem to look away from your face, feeling mesmerized at the way your lids are hooded with arousal, your gaze burning. You tilt your head, smiling at him innocently.Â
âDonât look at me, I told you to watch, didnât I?â
Jake nods obediently, and you grin. He watches as you rub yourself over the fabric of your soaked panties. Jake gapes, mouth dropping open at the wet patch at the front.
âWhat? Youâve never seen panties before? Sorryâforgot, youâre a virgin,â you jut your chin, beckoning him even closer. âCâmere, help me take this off.â
He obeys, reaching out to place his fingers over the fabric. With shaky hands, he helps you tug your skirt and panties off. He pulls your sneakers off one by one, placing them next to his knees. He places your clothes on the counter next to him, then places his hands on your hips, when you slap him away.Â
âI didnât say you could touch, did I?â Jake shakes his head, mumbling out a weak no. âGood. Youâre going to be a good boy for me, right?â
Jake nods at this, folding his hands on his lap. You lean your back against the toilet, cum coated hand coming down to caress your now bare cunt. You spread your legs further, and Jake almost comes a second time when he realizes that youâre touching yourself with his cum.
âJakey, come closer,â you gasp, biting your lip as you rub yourself slowly. âFeels so goodâyou wanna touch, donât you?â
Jake nods, entranced, too distracted watching in awe as your hole, wet and slick, clenches around nothing. You bring your sticky, shiny fingers in front of Jakeâs face, holding them in front of Jakeâs mouth. âSuck.â
He does as told, taking your fingers into his mouth and sucking eagerly. The taste is unlike anything heâs ever tasted, way better than his own come, and he finds himself wanting more.
Jake moans around your digits, licking in between your fingers. He barely notices when you start fingering yourself with your unoccupied hand, faster now to the sight of your fingers deep in Jakeâs mouth.Â
âYouâre so good, Jake. You listen to well, just like a fucking dog.â You trail off with a whine, and Jake looks down to see you adding a second finger inside of you.
Heâs entranced at the wet sounds of you fingering yourself, the noises echoing off the walls. âToo bad you canât fuck me, would feel so good to have you inside of me.â
Jakeâs gaze is focused on your pussy, and he canât find it in himself to look away. âMaybe I should go back outside, find that guy and use him instead, hm? Heâd probably know how to use it better than you can.â
âNo!â Jake objects, coming out muffled around your fingers. He pulls off with a lewd pop, âI canâI can show you. I can be good for you.â You hum, eyes closing and voice breaking off into a moan. âYeah?â
He nods, âI can be good for you, please. Let me be good for you.â He hears your breath pick up, the squelching sounds getting louder as you move your hand quicker. âGodâJake, Iâm close, so close.â
Jakeâs mouth waters, and he canât stop himself from getting up onto his knees to press their lips together. You gasp in surprise, granting Jake entry into your mouth. He breaks off the kiss to pant against your ear.Â
In the heat of the moment, Jake places his hand on top of yours, his palm against the back of your hand and moving in time with yours.Â
You shake, gasping, and Jake feels it when you cum, your body convulsing and shaking against him. âFuckâshit, Jake!â
When you come down from your high, you pull Jake into another kiss. Your lips move languidly against each other, spit making the slide wet and slippery. Jake takes it all, swallowing down the small mewls and whimpers you let out.
When they pull away, Jake can feel himself dripping with more precome at the sight of a line of spit hanging from between their lips. You bring your hand up to your mouth, sucking your fingers clean and Jake swears he couldâve come again right then and there.
You pull out your fingers with a lewd sound before getting up from the toilet. You put your skirt back on, fixing your appearance in the mirror. He watches as you grab your discarded panties, shoving them into Jakeâs back pocket.
You lean in, pressing your lips to Jakeâs softly. âKeep them,â You turn to leave, hand on the doorknob before looking back over your shoulder. âAnd put your fucking dick back in your pants.â Jake looks down, cheeks aflame when he realizes that his dick is still out in the open. When he looks up, you are nowhere in sight.
He stands there in shock, groaning. Theyâre back to square one.Â
If he goes to lock the door and rubs another quick one out while holding your panties against his nose, itâs nobodyâs business but his.
When you corner him outside of the locker room two weeks later, Jake feels a little bit surprised.Â
Jake flinches in surprise, â_____.â
You narrow your eyes at him. â_____?â
âIs that not your name?â Jake asks, just to be an asshole.Â
He smiles when you scoff. âMy name? What the fuck is wrong with you?â
âWhat do you mean?â Jake says, furrowing his brows in confusion.Â
âWhat do you mean, what do I mean? You know what I mean, donât play dumb,â you spit, crossing your arms. Jake canât help the way his eyes drop to your chest. âCheerleaders are your type now, huh? You think you can just go around making fuck me eyes at all the cheerleaders now?â
Jake cocks his head in confusion, before it dawns on him. âYouâre jealous.â
âIâm not jealous.â You argue back.Â
âYouâre jealous I havenât been giving you any attention, is that it?â He tongues his cheek. âNever pegged you as the jealous type, angel.â
You purse your lips at the nickname. âIâm not jealous. Youâre just being a fucking asshole and you know it.â
Jake raises a brow, stepping closer into your space, right until your toes touch. He leans down, towering over you. âMe? An asshole? Angel, I donât even know what youâre talking about.â
âYou!â You inhale, looking around to see if anyone was there to witness your outburst before lowering your voice. âYou know what Iâm talking about. Why the fuck are you hanging around them?â
âHanging around who?â Jake pushes, a grin spreading across his face when he sees your cheeks get pink.Â
He sees you look past him, hiding in Jakeâs chest when a few students walk by. âFuckâcome here.â
Jake lets you grab his hand and drag him away from the locker room, following behind you with a whipped, dopey smile on his face. They pass by Sunghoon, whoâs on his way back to the locker room.
Sunghoon points at them with a shocked look, âWhatâsââ
âHi Sunghoonââ you tug on his hand, making him almost trip over his own feet. ââbye Sunghoon!â
He gets dragged all the way to the parking lot in front of the field, not stopping until heâs in front of a black car. You turn on your heels, dropping Jakeâs hand. âGet in the car.â
You scoff when he reaches for the passenger doorâs handle. âNo, you fucking idiot. In the back.âÂ
Jake raises his hands in surrender, getting into the backseat. Heâs a foot into the car when he realizes he doesnât have his things. âWaitâI donât have my shit.â
He gets shoved into the car, hands coming out to catch himself as you push him in roughly. âCan you just shut the fuck up and listen? Youâre so annoying.â
âYou tell me that everyday, angel,â Jake says, situating himself until heâs comfortable. âThis is kindaââ
You groan, getting into the car and closing the door behind you. You lock the doors, tossing your keys somewhere and climbing into Jakeâs lap to straddle him. âDo you ever shut up?â
Jakeâs hands come to rest on your hips on their own accord. âWhat are youââ he stops himself when you squirm, grinding down into his lap subtly.
âYouâre such a fucking dog,â you start, hands scrambling to take off Jakeâs varsity jacket. He complies, leaning forward so you can tug each of the sleeves off. âYou know what Iâm hearing now?â
He hums, a little confused and a little turned on. Once youâre satisfied at the sight of Jake in just his white shirt, your hands creep lower until they situate themselves under his shirt and on his chest. âItâs funny, this girl is saying you guys fucked.â
âWhat?â Jake questions with a quirk of his head.Â
âDonât what me. You know who Iâm fucking talking about,â your manicured nails scratch at his skin, probably leaving angry red marks. âSheâs saying you guys fucked the night of the party.â
Jake hisses when your nails dig into his skin, âbut I was with you at the party.â
You scoff, taking your hands out from under his shirt and resting them on his nape. âExactly, so tell me why sheâs saying you guys fucked.â
âHey,â he groans when you lean in to nip at his jaw, placing sloppy kisses down his neck. âAngel, how am I supposed to know?
Jake tilts his head back to rest against the headrest, letting you continue your ministrations. He bites his lip, a moan almost finding its way out of his mouth when you bite at a spot on his neck, sucking on the skin there.Â
You pause in your ministrations, âgonna mark you, have you walk around with my bruises on your neck so people know youâre owned.âÂ
âHeyâbaby, thatâs great, butââ Jakeâs voice breaks when you nibble harder, hand coming up to his hair to tug at the strands. âWeâre at school. In the parking lot.â
You don't let up, kissing along his jaw until you find his lips. You kiss him once, twice before you place your hand over one of Jakeâs wrists to detach it from your hip, trailing lower until his fingers meet the soft fabric of your uniform. âBut Jakey, feel.â
Jakeâs lips part in a silent gasp when you use his fingers to rub between your legs, and he exhales shakily once he feels that you're soaked. Heâs losing his self control slowly, and when you rut down against his hand and whine against his lips, he throws all caution out the window.
He lets you grind against his hand for a bit before he cups you over your panties, fingers applying the slightest pressure. You gasp, leaning further against Jakeâs chest when he captures your lips with his own, swallowing down all of your noises.Â
Jake rubs over your panties, the small whines and whimpers spurring him on further. He toys with the hem of the fabric, âCanâcan I?â
You nod, cutting him off with another kiss. Jake slides your panties to the side, finally feeling how wet you really are. âFuckâangel, youâre fucking dripping.â
âFor you, all for you.â You say, panting against his mouth. Your hips buck when Jake trails his fingers through your slit, coating the digits with your slick. Jake groans at the stickiness, and he canât stop himself from slipping a finger inside.Â
âAhâJakey,â Jake twitches in his pants at the sound of your voice. Heâs been hard since you first sat in his lap, and heâs this close to coming untouched. âYou canâyou can add another.â
âFuckâyeah, okay.â Jake rasps out, complying right away. He slips his middle finger beside his ring finger, relishing in the warmth and softness of your warm walls.Â
Jakeâs brain short circuits and he panics internally because he doesnât know what to fucking do. He didnât think heâd get this far. You seem to take notice, because you start grinding down on his fingers yourself. âYou donât have to do anything justâah, keep your fingers there.â
He obeys, hand staying still while heâs buried knuckles deep, two fingers in your cunt. You take it all, riding his fingers enthusiastically. Wetness drips down to his wrist, and his hips buck against you when you let out a throaty moan.Â
âFuck, you sound so good.â Jake groans, leaning forward to lick the sweat off of your neck.Â
You huff at this, your hand gripping tighter from where itâs resting in Jakeâs hair. âShutâshut the fuck up.â
Jake moves his hand again, meeting your every move. He starts to get the hang of it, learning what makes you moan and what makes you whimper. When he curls his fingers, pressing his palm against your clit as he grinds down, you keen.
âFuck, Jake,â you throws your head back, the sound of your moans filling up the car. âRight thereâoh!â
You shudder, clenching around his fingers. Jake canât stop looking at you, admiring the way your hair falls and the way you looks so pretty like this. âYeah? There?â
He does it again, curling his fingers and keeping the same tempo as your grinding. âYouâre so fucking pretty.â
Jake smiles at the way it brings a whine out of you. He gets brave, slipping his index finger inside next to his others, scissoring them the slightest bit. âYeah? You like that? So pretty, my pretty fucking angel.â
âMine, youâre mine,â you cry, head lolling forward to rest on the headrest next to Jakeâs ears. You mewl, clenching sporadically around his fingers. âTell meâsay it, youâre mine.â
âYours. Iâm all yours,â Jake says, repeating it again and again. âIâm yours, only yours.â
âFuckââ you trail off with a moan, reaching below them to tug at Jakeâs shorts. âOff, off.â
Jake nods eagerly, using his free hand to shrug his shorts down enough for his cock to come out. âYeah? Fuck, okay baby.â
Your breath hitches at the sight of Jakeâs length before youâre licking your lips and pulling Jakeâs hand out from your legs. You reach down to stroke him, humming appreciatively at the way heâs so responsive, cock already hard and leaking in precome onto your hand.
âJakey, youâre so big, youâd fuck me so good, Iâd feel it for weeks,â you close yours eyes at the thought, breath coming out shakily. âToo bad youâre a virgin.â
Jake makes a sound of distress, closing his eyes and whining at the feeling of you stroking him slowly. âJake, Jakey. Look at me.â
He thinks distantly, whenever you tell him to look at him, it never ends well. He opens his eyes, meeting your mischief filled ones. Jake chokes on a gasp when he feels something wet rubbing against him, looking down to see you rubbing your dripping pussy right against his cock.
âYouâre gonna be a good boy, right?â You say, voice coming out restrained.Â
He nods, heâd do anything heâs told at this point. You run your hand through Jakeâs hair appreciatively before tugging, baring his neck back. âYouâre gonna come like this. You can do that, canât you?â
âYeah,â he clears his throat. âUh-huh.â
You smirk, leaning in again to peck him on the lips twice. âYou canât come until I do first. If you last long enough, I might even let you fuck me next time.â
The pure thought of being able to fuck you almost makes him blow his load right there. Jake holds himself back with the little restraint he has left. He nods, promising that heâll do good.
You reach below them again, grabbing ahold of Jakeâs dick and pushing aside your panties to rub your wet cunt against his cock. Jake throws his head back, whining at the feeling. Itâs warm and wet and better than his own right hand, and he has to tell himself to not come on the spot.
Jake, if you come right now Iâm gonna fucking kill you. God. Do not fucking come.
He can feel himself throbbing when you grind against his cock, spreading your slick all over the length. Jake canât stop his hips from snapping up, meeting you in your every movement.
Jake uses the hold he has on your waist to guide you back and forth, grinding up as you grind down. He moans at the feeling of you slicking up his cock, and he wonders distantly if this is what itâs going to feel like to be inside of you. His dick twitches in interest at the thought.
âI was so, so fucking mad when I heard that bitch talking about you,â you breath out. âAnd then I see you fucking hanging around her and, fuck, wanted to fuck you so bad.â
Jake preens, the thought of you being jealous fills his alpha to the brim with pride. âYeah? Would let you, I bet you want that. Let her see us fucking in front of her. You grinding against my cock like a fucking slut.â
He feels your hips stutter. âYouâre mine. She had the fucking audacity to ask me about you. Asking me why people were saying weâre fucking.â
Jake groans at this, his grip on your waist is bruising. He looks down between them, watching as you move your hips against him. Your skirt is covering what he wants to see, and he lifts the hem with a hand. He salivates at the sight of his shiny, wet cock sliding and disappearing between your legs.Â
âWhatâd you say? Hm? Tell me.â
Your hips speed up, your face scrunching up when Jakeâs dick rubs you just right. âI told herâI said it was true. That we were fucking, and that youââ
âThat I what?â Jake presses, using his grip on your hips to hold you down, grinding up against your pussy.Â
He removes a hand from your waist to reach between them, thumb coming down to rub between your legs. You grab his hand shakily, guiding him to your clit. Jake sucks in a breath at the way he can practically feel your hole fluttering against his cock when he rubs your clit experimentally.
âThat I what?â Jake repeats.
âThat I was your first,â you gasp, shaking in his hold. âThat I took your virginity. Let you come inside me and that you were mine.â
Jake moans lowly, shoving his face into your shoulder. âYeah? You want that? Bet youâd like that, knowing youâre my first. First hole I usedâthe only hole Iâll use.â
This pulls a shrill cry out of you, who nods eagerly. âYouâreâyouâre mine, only mine. Gonna let you fill me up like I said, marking me as yours.â
âYeah, baby? Iâm yours, my first is yours. All yours. Fuck.â Jake practically growls out, the thought of you taking his virginity is already too much for him, and before he knows it, heâs cumming against your cunt.
You moan at the feeling, voice rising in octaves as you feel Jakeâs cum, warm and hot, shooting up against you. âOhâfucking shit, Jakeââ
You reach down between them, taking Jakeâs cock into your hand and positioning it right against your hole. You run the tip of his cock over your hole a few times, spreading the cum there before pushing the head inside. âFuck, Jake, come inside meââ
Jake bites down on your shoulder, the thought of his cum filling you up pulls a moan out of him, the sound muffled. His body shakes, hip bucking when he feels the tip of his head enter your pussy. âFuck, fuckfuck.â
When he comes down from his high, head fuzzy and heart beating erratically, youâre breathing heavily. He winces when you grip his hair, tilting his head back with more force than necessary. âYou didnât fucking listen to me. You came first.â
âIâmâIâm sorry.â Jake gets out, still panting from his climax.
âFucking pathetic, your dick is good for nothing. Canât even get me off when I ask you to. Really, what are you even good for?â You spit at him, the words making his cheeks heat with embarrassment.Â
Jake begs and pleas, âNo, IâI can be good.âÂ
âNo, you canât,â you dig your nails into his scalp, smirking when Jakeâs face scrunches up. âYouâre not stopping until I come, alright?â
He nods at this, complying with your every word. It clicks in his brain then: heâs wrapped around your finger, and you don't intend on ever letting him go.
Things havenât changed since the time you cornered him outside the locker room. Well, they havenât changed much.
You still roll your eyes when you see him, always throwing some shady insults at him that Jake takes with pride, and he still chases you like a loyal dog.
âWhy do you keep trying? She literally hates your guts,â Sunghoon says during practice one day. âIsnât it tiring?â
Jake shrugs, tossing the ball to a random teammate. âI think Iâm making progress.â
Sunghoon raises a brow. âDude, just give up. Youâre not gonna crack her anytime soon. How do you know sheâs even into alphas?â
If only he knew, Jake thinks. âIf your omega hated your guts, would you give up?â
âNo, thatâs my mate,â Sunghoon replies, easily. âDo you know how long I courted her for until she finally accepted me? Jake. I chased after her since I was a junior. In high school.â
Jake sends him a deadpan look. âExactly.â He says flatly.
Sunghoon only shakes his head at him. âYouâre down bad. So bad.â
âYeah, yeah,â he says passively, waving him off. Jakeâs eyes are trained on where youâre stretching a few feet away from them on the field.Â
Itâs routine now, the way you catch his gaze, smirking as you stretch your legs. Jake watches as you bend down to touch your toes, tilting your head in the way of the locker room before standing up and heading there first.
âDuty calls.â Is all Jake says before taking off, ignoring Sunghoonâs sounds of protest.
âPractice isnât even over yet!â
Jake jogs over to the locker room, knocking a few times before the door opens and heâs getting dragged in roughly.Â
The door closes behind him and he faintly registers the lock clicking shut. Before he can get a word out, thereâs a pair of lips attached to his neck.
âAngel, Iâm sweaty, and weâre gonna smell like each other.â
You pout against his neck, hand trailing down to cup at his dick over his shorts. You squeeze him once, before rubbing your palm against him. âBut I want you so bad, and everyone thinks weâre fucking anyway. JakeâŚâ
Jake can feel his restraint slipping. âFuck, youâre soâŚâ
âBeen watching you all practice, youâre so fucking hot. Couldnât even focus today, all I can think about is sucking you off.â You say, slipping your hand into Jakeâs shorts.
Jake takes a glance at the clock above the lockers, silently appreciative that he has roughly half an hour before anybody would be coming in to use the lockers. When he looks back at you, youâre already looking at him with lust filled eyes and blown pupils.
You blink at him, a lazy smile on your lips as you stroke Jake to full hardness. âPlease? Come on, alpha.â
And who is Jake to ever deny you?
âFuck, fine. Câmere.â Jake replies, pulling you until youâre between a row of lockers. He pushes you by the shoulders, back, back until your knees hit a bench.
Like this, towering over you, he canât help but feel bigâbig at the way you appear so small beneath him, nothing like the alpha youâre supposed to be. Jake snorts fondly at the way you look up at him with the biggest puppy eyes.
âYouâre cute.â
You instantly frown, lips pulling downwards. âYouâre gross. I didnât bring you here to be sappy. Iâd be way cuter with my face covered in your cum.â
You tug at Jakeâs shorts, frowning deeper when you realize Jake isnât budging. âWhat are you still standing there for? Drop your fucking pants.â
Jake rolls his eyes, grabbing your hair with a fist. He yanks you forward, your chin now digging into his stomach. âYou want it so bad? Beg.â
Jake preens internally when your mouth drops open in shock.
âBeg? You want me to fucking beg? In case you forgot, youâre not the one in charge here.âÂ
âIn charge? If you want to suck me off so bad, then beg, angel,â Jake says, yawning. âI have practice to finish, so if youâre not going to, Iâm leaving.â
âYouâreââ You open your mouth before closing it shut again.Â
âOr, how about we try something different this time?â Jake cuts you off, releasing his grip on your hair to get on his knees himself. Even on his knees, youâre eye to eye.
He leans closer, nosing at your cheek and inhaling deeply. âLetâs see how long you can last,â Jake glances at the clock again. âIf you hold out, Iâll let you suck me off. Deal?â
âWhoâs teaching you these things? Fucker.â You scoff, craning your neck to look at the clock behind them.
âYou did.â Jake smiles, and you shake your head, mumbling little shit.
Your facade cracks easily. âShut up.â You say, smiling so small that Jake wouldâve missed it if he wasnât already staring at your lips.
âSo, deal?â He meets you halfway, kissing you softly before pulling away, not missing the way you chase after his lips.
You huff, pulling him back in by his jersey. âDeal.â
And just like the first and second and tenth time, you fall right back into each other.
One thing about you is that you get jealous.
At first, Jake is too caught up in his own jealousy to even entertain the thought of you being jealous.
Their relationship, if you could call it that, is remotely private. Although everyone used to think theyâre fucking, they now either think that they hate each other, or are in some sort of platonic fuck-buddies arrangement because people catch them smelling of each otherâs scents so often. Youâve both kept it under wraps for months, and you prefer to keep it that way. So when you start acting differently in public, Jake notices.
It starts like this: Having the same group of friends meant that they see each other all the time, being forced to hangout and be in the same vicinity of each other almost every day. So when the casual touches started, needless to say, their friends, and many others, were confused.
First, it was you wrapping an arm around his waist whenever youâre walking together.Â
After that, it was you throwing your legs over Jakeâs lap at the bleachers.
Another time, when you showed up to practice in his varsity jacket.
Then out of nowhere, you start taking it further.
You start getting handsy in public; at practice, outside of the locker rooms, at parties. Not that Jake minds, heâs just curious to know what caused this. He isnât complaining, not when you look like that and when you let Jake walk around with his hand stuffed into your back pocket like he owns youâwhich if you ask him, he does.
But it all hits him when theyâre at another party.
When Sunghoon told him his omega is throwing yet another party, Jake automatically agrees, because wherever Sunghoon goes, he goes. And wherever Sunghoon's omega is, you are. You get the idea.
He goes with the intent of seeing you, and free weed, but mainly for you.
So when they get to the familiar house, Jake is on a mission to find you. He leaves Sunghoon and his omega to go around and find you, stopping by the kitchen to grab a cup of spiked punch for him and one for you.
Heâs about to head upstairs when, just like last time, Riki stops him.
âWeed?â
Jake makes a mental note to text you and ask him where he is, before nodding. âLead the way.â
Like the last time, theyâre seated on the same couch, smoking Rikiâs weed again. Except, youâre nowhere in sight.
Riki leans his head back, exhaling a thin cloud before handing the roll to Jake. âDid you figure things out last time?â
âYeah,â Jake takes a hit, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling. âBut I canât find her.â
âWho, ____?â Jake nods in affirmative.
âYou sure sheâs even here? I havenât seen her since I got here. Want me to ask my girl?â Riki asks, already reaching for his phone.
âNah, itâs cool. Pretty sure sheâll show up soon.â Jake shakes his head, waving the joint around before Riki plucks it from his fingers.
Riki shrugs, âIf you say so.â
Itâs quiet, but comfortable. Thatâs something Jake likes about Riki: the fact that he never feels the need to fill the space with meaningless small talk. They sit side by side, smoking in silence until someone walks up to them.
Itâs a girl, another cheerleader on Sunghoon's omegaâs team by the look of the uniform. She holds a cigarette out, asking them for a lighter. Riki motions to his pocket, mumbling something to Jake. He gets the hint and digs into Rikiâs pocket, flicking the lighter open for the stranger. She bends over, closer to the flame to light the end of the stick.
âThanks, youâre Jake right? Sunghoon's omegaâs boyfriendâs friend?â She asks, already making herself comfortable on the handle of the couch.
Jake hums, head tilted back and eyes heavy. âYeah, best friend.â The girl nods in greeting. âIâm Yun.â
âRiki,â Riki cuts in, snatching his lighter back before shoving it into his pocket. He stands up, shoving his small bag of weed into his hoodie. âMy girl is looking for me, see you later Jake.â
Jake nods in goodbye, watching as Riki makes it across the room to the end of the stairs to meet his omega. The sight of Rikiâs stupidly bright smile and her fond grin makes his stomach churn. He misses you.
He pulls out his phone, remembering to shoot a text to you.
jakey: where r u jakey: miss u jakey: lonely :(
Jake frowns when you don't reply, and heâs starting to regret smoking because he forgot how clingy it makes him. He huffs, pocketing his phone. He is not going to pout at a party. The girl clears her throat, reminding him that sheâs still there. Jake glances up at her.
âCan I have one of your cups?â Yun asks, motioning to the two cups on the table in front of her that say Jake in sharpie.
Jake frowns, shaking his head. âNo.â
The girl looks momentarily taken aback, before she recovers, tilting her head. âWhy do you have two?â
âBecause one is for ____.â He shoots back defensively, leaning forward to place the cups closer to him.
â____? Oh. The one on the team?â She looks up in thought. âSheâs pretty cute.â
âYeah, she is.â
Yun hums. âI think she has a boyfriend or something though.â
âReally?â Jake questions, partially out of curiosity, and mostly because heâs the only boy there could be.
âShe comes to practice with hickeys sometimes. And people say they see her and some football player messing around all the time, plus she always smells like another alpha.â Her lips curl down at the corners.
Jake raises a brow in amusement and he has to hold back his laugh. âReally?â
Yun nods enthusiastically, looking around before leaning closer. âCan I have a cup now? I donât think sheâs even here.â
Jake closes his eyes, irritation bubbling under his skin. He forces down a growl, âNo, I told you already. Itâs forââ
âMe, Yun. Itâs for me.â
Jake has never looked up so fast in his life.
â____!â Jake is so happy he could cry.
Your eyes soften at this, and before you know it, Jake is pulling you down right next to him, grabbing one of your legs to throw it over his own.Â
âI texted you and you didnât reply.â Jake says, rubbing his forehead against your cheek.
You rub his nape with a hand, letting Jake rub and scent all over you as he pleases. Jake leans back at the sight of a familiar jacket. âHey, this is mine.â
You laugh, making yourself comfortable and resting your other leg next to the one already over Jakeâs thighs. Jake wraps an arm around your waist, and he canât help but feel content because: one, heâs warm, and two, he really missed you so bad.
He voices it out loud, âMissed you.â
âOf course you did. God, youâre so clingy when youâre high.â You joke, but you rub your knuckles under Jakeâs chin as a way of saying it back.
âOh, I saved a cup for you. It might be warm now though, it was sitting for a while.â Jake reaches for it, and registers that the random girl isnât with them anymore.
âItâs okay, Jakey. You can get me another one, yeah?â You reply, and Jake nods, standing up right away, keeping an arm around your shoulders. âGodâbaby, Iâm not going anywhere.â
âDo you know how long I waited for you? Me and Riki smoked like, three prerolls. I counted.â
âOkay, dumbass. You can count. Now come get me a drink.â You start walking, and Jake follows, as always.
He says at your side, with his arm now around your waist. When they make it to the kitchen, Jake almost throws up at the sight of Sunghoon and his omega making out against a counter.
Jake groans exaggeratedly, tightening his hold on you. âDude! Thereâs people here!â
Sunghoon's omega flips him off, only stopping to look over Sunghoonâs shoulder once she sees who Jake is with. She whispers something in Sunghoonâs ear, who turns to side-eye Jake.
âWhy are they looking at me like that?â Jake says under his breath, against your ear.
You tilt your head back to look at him. âI donât know. Maybe because you look dumb.â Jake sulks at this. âWhy are you so mean?â
He only receives a pat on the cheek. âGet me a drink, please.â Is all you say before slipping out from under his arm to go meet Sunghoon's omega.â
Jake mumbles to himself about how heâs unappreciated and nobody cares about him, not even Sunghoon.
âSunghoon what?âÂ
Jake jolts. âWhat?â
Sunghoon squints at him. âAre you high?â
âNo.â Jake replies, smoothly, too focused on pouring you a drink.
âUh-huh. Whatâs up with you and ____?â Sunghoon asks, taking a cup for himself.
âWhat do you mean?â Jake says, turning to lean back against the counter, eyes drawn to you instantly.
Sunghoon follows his line of sight. âYou know what I mean.â
âNo, I donât.âÂ
âHey. You made an oath, remember? No lying to your best friend.â Sunghoon nudges him with his elbow.
Jake groans, âYou only bring that up when you want something.â
âSo?â Sunghoon says, expectantly.
âI told you, nothingâs going on,â he replies. Jakeâs chest burns with fondness when he sees you laughing, eyes crinkling at the edges and your pretty teeth on display. âItâs nothing.â
âYeah, okay. Tell that to the mirror. And your stupid lovesick scent says everything, dumbass. You stink.â Jake can practically hear the sarcasm in Sunghoonâs tone, and he doesnât have to look to know that heâs rolling his eyes.
âWhatever.â Jake trails off when you meet his gaze, sending him a small smile. He almost thinks itâs cute until he sees Sunghoon's omega, whoâs glaring at him, practically cursing him with her eyes.Â
âSunghoon. Heâs doing it again.â
âHuh?â Sunghoon pauses for a second before throwing his head back and laughing. âOh. Babe! I told you, you could totally beat him in a fight.â
Jake shouts in protest, only quieting down when you sidle up next to him. His voice gets caught in his throat, enamored by the way you look so, so pretty. âHey.â
âHey yourself.â You lean against his chest, standing between his legs.Â
Damn it, he thinks to himself, heâs so fond. âWanna get out of here?â
Your nose scrunches up at this. âGreasy. The worst line ever,â You detach yourself from Jake. âI need to go to the bathroom first, come with me?â
Jake nods wordlessly, suppressing a smile when you grab his hand and slings it over your shoulders, latching onto his side. Jake likes this, like, really likes this.Â
âReel it in, Jake. Your alpha is showing.â You shake your head, and Jake forgets that you can smell how pleased he is through his scent.
You lead them to the bathroom at the bottom of the stairs, telling him to wait for you. Jake nods, leaning against the wall while he waits obediently. You laugh, mumbling something about how heâs like a big puppy, and he canât even find it in himself to argue back when youâre right.
Heâs on his phone, tapping through peopleâs Instagram stories when he gets tapped on the shoulder.
âHey! Jake, right?âÂ
Jake turns to see Yun, standing a head shorter than him. Jake suppresses a tired groan, because he doesnât want to be bothered right now, just wanting to get you and go home. âYeah.â Jake replies, looking back down at his phone.
He can see her shifting awkwardly on her feet. âAre you waiting for the bathroom?â
Jake glances at her before looking at the door. âNo, Iâm waiting for ____.â âOh,â she murmurs. âAre you guys a thing?â
âWhat? Weâreââ
She cuts him off with a hand. âNo! I didnât mean it like thatâIâm not against alphas dating alphas or anything, fuck society, but I was just curious.â
Jake nods. âAh. But no, weâre not.â
âIs it like an open relationship thing then?â
âDude, youâreââ Jake stops himself, trying to withhold himself from bursting on this girl, who hasnât done anything to warrant it. âNo, itâs not.â
âI mean, itâs cool if it is! I was just wondering if you were single.â She gives him a smile, and Jake narrows his eyes. âIs that too forward? Itâs cool if you guys are in an open relationship, Iâm not opposed to sharing.â
Jake canât stop the annoyed sigh he lets out. âYou talk way too fucking much.â
She frowns. âYou donât have to be rude.â
âHonestly, youâre overstepping right now,â Jake says, hand dragging down his face. âYouâre killing my mood.â
âYouâre being an asshole.â She spits out, crossing her arms.
Jake snorts, finding the whole situation amusing and exhausting. âTell me something I donât know.â
He silently sends a thanks to you when the bathroom door opens. Jake is quick to turn around and hold onto you, pulling you out of the bathroom in a rush. âThank fuck, I was about to lose my shit.â
âWhatâs wrong?â You make a confused noise.
âAre you guys together or not?â Yun says, bringing the attention back to her.
Jake rolls his eyes, letting out a frustrated groan. âPlease.â
âHeâs not gonna fuck you.â Jake watches as you narrow your eyes at her, your scent spiking.
Jake bites his lip to hold back a laugh. âItâs not like you guys are together. Donât you think that heâd wanna try dating an omega, rather than an alpha?â
âItâs not like heâd wanna fuck you either way,â you say, arm wrapping around Jakeâs waist protectively. âDid you need something else? Because I have no problem with you watching us fuck if thatâs what youâre really curious about.â
Yunâs face twists in disgust. âYou guys are gross. And your boyfriend is an asshole anyways.â âI know.â You reply, and you both watch her turn on her heels and walk away.
When Yun is out of their line of sight, Jake sighs, turning in your hold and hugging you against his chest. Jakeâs chest puffs up with pride and his heart swells. âMy knight in shining armor. Youâre so cute, did I tell you that already?â
You roll your eyes but your face is fond, letting Jake press his face against your neck. You place a kiss on Jakeâs neck in return. âLetâs just get out of here, I wanna fuck.â
Jake fakes a pout. âAll you want me for is my body.â
âSheâs right. Youâre an asshole. Hurry up before the offer expires.â You kiss him quickly, before slipping out of his grip and running into the crowd.
Jakeâs heart starts to race at the challenge. If you want him to chase you, he will.Â
He counts a few seconds in his head before following after you, searching for a jacket with Jake Sim emblazoned on the back.
Jake slips out the door, finding you a few feet ahead of him. Itâs already night, and goosebumps rise on his arms from the cold as he runs towards you, catching you in his arms.Â
âWanna fuck in the car?â âNo.â
Like always, Jake gets what he wants.
Five minutes later, just as he planned, theyâre seated in the back of your car.
The windows are fogged, and he feels thankful that your windows are conveniently tintedâalthough he wouldnât mind fucking in the back even if they werenât.
âFuck, Jake,â you breathe heavily against him, and Jake has to hold your hips in place to keep you from bucking up against his mouth and hitting him in the nose. âJakey, fuck, yes.â
If thereâs one thing that Jake likes doing, itâs eating you out.Â
Even since the first time you taught him, he still finds himself addicted to it. Maybe itâs the fact that you make the prettiest sounds when he does, but honestly, he just likes to make you feel good. Jake thinks he could eat you out for hours.
Heâs ripped out of his thoughts when you place a hand into his hair, using the grip to hold him there so you can grind your hips against Jakeâs tongue.Â
âHngh, Jakeâfuck!â you cry when Jake hums against you, licking along your folds before sucking your clit softly. He uses the hands he has around your thighs to pull you even closer.
Jake relishes in the moans you let out, pulling back the slightest bit to lick circles against your clit. He looks up to drink in the sight of you with your head thrown back, eyes rolled to the back of your head.Â
You shake in his hold, and Jake can practically feel the way youâre clenching around nothing. He moans, licking along your slit again before thrusting his tongue inside your hole.
âOh,â it elicits a whimper out of you, one that breaks off into a long drawn out moan. âJakey, doâdo it again.â
He obeys, fucking his tongue inside of your hole a couple more times before coming back up to suck at your clit. The sounds theyâre making are dirty, and Jake closes his eyes at the sound of the wet slurping noises filling up the car.Â
You grind up against his mouth. âFuck, fuck your tongue feels so good. Ah!â
Jake lifts his head, licking his lips before kissing your inner thigh. âYou gotta be quiet, people are gonna hear you.â
Itâs impossible. Especially because the music coming from the house is too loud and nobody would be able to hear them unless they come to the car, but he likes to entertain the thought anyways, and he knows it gets you off too.Â
He smirks against your thigh when it brings a soft, breathy moan out of you. âYeah? Youâd probably like that, huh? You want them to hear you, want them to hear you whine like a fucking bitch with your alphaâs tongue inside of you.â
âJake, Jakey, please,â your face contorts in frustration when Jake holds your hips down. âKeep going.â
âSay it. Tell me how much you want them to hear you,â Jake replies, moving a hand down to play with your clit. He rubs slowly, just to be a little shit. âTell me, angel. Câmon.â
You shake your head, âI justâfuck, please.â
âYou know what to say.â His breath ghosts over your pussy.Â
âWantâwant everyone to hear me, want them to hear how good you fuck me,â you pant, head thrown back against the window. âFuck, want everyone to know how much of a slut I am for you, alpha.â
Jake delivers a harsh suck to your clit, fingers entering your hole at the same time. You sound absolutely wrecked, voice cracking every time you moan. âGonna stretch you out, open you up so good. Get you ready for my cock.â
You nod erratically, âyeah, yeah. Stretch me openâshit!â Jake curls his fingers, scissoring them and pumping them inside of your hole. The noises are loud, wet squelching mixing with moans and bouncing off the inner walls of the car.Â
âJake, want you now. Canât wait anymore. Wanna cum on your cock, please.â You get out between cries.Â
âShit, yeah? Fuck, câmere,â the position is awkward, but he leans back onto his knees to bring their lips together. You pant into the kiss, hips bucking up against Jakeâs thigh. âTurn around.â
Itâs hard to make it work in the small vicinity of the car, but with Jakeâs back pressed to his chest and you on your knees on the seats, you make it work.
He runs his hands along your body, squeezing appreciatively when you shiver. You whine, pushing back against his dick. âJake, fuck me already, want you now.â
âI donât have a condom,â he says, looking around the car.
You huff, âI donât fucking care. Weâre both clean and if you donât fuck me now Iâll kick you out of the car.â
âImpatient.â Jake kisses your shoulder before pulling himself out of his pants. He strokes himself a few times before grabbing his cock to slap it against your cunt. He slides the length between your folds, coating himself in slick to get himself wet. Jake runs the head of his cock against your hole before entering the tip in slowly.
âFuck,â he groans out when you clench around him. âHow are you so fucking tight.â
You both moan simultaneously when Jake finally bottoms out, hips flush against your ass. âFuck. Gonna fuck you until youâre fucking loose. Gonna have you on my cock all the time.â
You pant, âLike you donâtâfucking do already.â
Jake pulls out to thrust back in harshly, shoving his face into your neck and groaning at the feeling of you so wet and tight around him. âYouâre so pretty baby, such a pretty fucking cocksleeve.â
âShit, Jake!â Jakeâs thrusts are fast, unrelenting. The only thought on his mind is to make you come, to make you come first.
The sounds of his hips and balls slapping against you has him groaning, biting into your shoulder. âWanna fill you up, fill you up with my cum. Gonna knock you up, fuck.â
Jake can feel his dick throbbing inside of you, and his hips stutter at the thought of getting you pregnant. âGonnaâgonna get you pregnant, let everyone know youâre mine. That Iâm the only one getting you fuck you like this.â
He pulls your hips flush against him as he thrusts in rapidly, throwing his head back at the feeling of you clenching around him again. âYou like that? Wanna walk around full of my cum, knocked up like a dumb whore.â
Your body trembles beneath him as you whimper out pleas. âYes, yes, fuck, wannaâwant it so bad.â
Jake wraps his arms around your waist, hand finding purchase on the smooth expanse of your tummy. âBaby, can you feel that?â
You hold yourself up with one hand, the other feeling around to find Jakeâs where it is on your belly. Jake places his hand over yours, pushing down on your tummy. âYouâre so fucking tiny, I can feel my cock rubbing up right against your fucking stomach.â
This pulls a throaty moan out of you. Jakeâs thrusts donât let up, and he pulls out until the tip of his cock is against your hole before slamming inside in one go.Â
âBaby, talk to me,â Jake says, his breath hot against your ear. He knows how you get, too fucked dumb to even speak. âHm?â
Your mouth drops open, and Jake takes this chance to slip his fingers in your mouth. Itâs wet, and he can feel the drool pooled up and dribbling down the side of your chin.Â
He stills, cock still buried to the hilt. âI told you to do something.â
âMmph!â It comes out muffled around his fingers. Just to be a little shit, he pushes down on your tongue, chuckling lowly when you gag.
âIâm not gonna move until you do what I asked.â Jake keeps his fingers in your mouth, repeating himself.
You shake your head, mewling when drool escapes from the corners of your mouth. âIâhmph.â
Jake presses down on your tongue again before thrusting his fingers deeper, barely hitting the back of your throat. âGod, youâre fucking drooling everywhere like a whore.â
He takes mercy on you, finally pulling his fingers out of your mouth with little resistance. You gasp, head lolling and forehead coming into contact with the window.Â
Your voice comes out broken, âJake, fuck, pleaseâneed to come so bad, want your cock so bad, please, Iâll be so good.â
Jake decides to be nice, pulling out before thrusting inside roughly. He trails his spit slicked fingers down your jaw to circle around your nipple, smearing the spit there. You jolt, hips bucking back against Jakeâs cock.
âYou always get so dumb when you have a cock inside you, huh? Thatâs all it takes for you to shut up?â Jake pinches your nipple. âYouâre so fucking easy.â
You clench sporadically around his dick, telltale signs that youâre getting close. Jake brings his hand lower to rub at your clit rapidly, hips never slowing.Â
Jake growls against your neck, âSuch a dumb bitch. Youâre a dumb puppy. Right? Getting fucked by another alpha like a stupid omega.âÂ
You scream at this, voice high pitched when you cum around Jakeâs cock. Jake groans at the feeling of your walls tightening around him, rolling his eyes when he feels wetness seeping down his balls and to his thighs.Â
Jake doesnât let up, fucking you through your climax. âFuck, you fucking squirted? You really are a dumb fucking bitch.â
He hears you sob, and it only spurs him on further. Jake fucks into you at an animalistic pace, stomach tightening at the whines and whimpers youâre letting out.Â
âJakey, Jake, canâtâitâs too much, ah!â You cry, cheek pressing up against the window.Â
Jake growls against your neck, âfucking take it.âÂ
His hips stutter when you choke on a sob, the band in his stomach finally snapping. He buries himself to the hilt, making sure to coat every inch of your insides with his cum.Â
Your hole flutters around him, tightening and clenching at the feeling of Jakeâs cum, warm and hot, filling you up to the brim.Â
Jake manhandles them back against the seats, making sure to keep his cum plugged into you. He leans back, you now in his lap, back against his chest. At this angle, he feels even deeper, and he canât stop himself from thrusting up into your heat once more.
You protest, scrambling until your hands are holding onto the back of the driverâs seat. âIâm, Iâm too sensitive.âÂ
He spreads your legs, hand coming down between them to rub at your swollen, abused clit. Jake suppresses a smirk when you flinch, tightening around him in surprise.Â
âJake, I canâtâitâs too much, please,â you beg, squirming in Jakeâs lap.
âYour alpha is still hard, baby. Be good for me, youâre gonna cum again, okay? I know you can.â Jake kisses your shoulder, nosing along your nape.Â
You shake your head, panting heavily. âI canât, Jake, please.â
Jake tuts, hand still rubbing circles against your clit. He brings his other hand to play with your nipples, knowing where youâre the most sensitive like the back of his hand.
âCâmon, I know you can. You wanna be good for me, yeah?â He places a wet kiss onto your neck when you nod. âBe a good omega and cum again, wanna feel you cum around my cock again.â
You gulp, exhaling through your nose. Your whole body shakes and quivers in Jakeâs hold. Jake talks you through it, whispering about how good you are and how obedient you are.Â
He brings the hand that was playing with your nipple up to wrap around your throat, applying the slightest pressure there. Jake thrusts his hips up at the same time as he squeezes your throat â and thatâs all it takes to push you over the edge again.
You curl up, too fucked out to do anything other than cum and sob silently. Jake feels it when you cum, your walls tightening around his cock. He squeezes again before releasing his hold around your neck to turn your head and capture your lips in a kiss.
The angle makes it hard for them to kiss, but you take it all, opening your mouth obediently and letting Jake explore every inch of your mouth with his tongue. They kiss lazily for a few more minutes before you pull away with a wince.
âMy seats are gonna be so gross,â you say, leaning your head back to rest against Jakeâs.
He wraps his arms around your waist. âWhoâs fault is that?âÂ
âYours. Youâre the one who always wants to fuck in the fucking car. In my car!â You shoot back. You make a sound of protest when Jake goes to pull out. âDonât! Itâs gonna make a bigger mess.â
âLiar, you just like the fact that my cum is inside of you right now.â Jake teases.Â
You groan, âShut up, no I donât.â They both know itâs a lie.
âKinky,â he strokes your stomach with a thumb. âHey.â
You hum, still leaning against his chest. âAre we⌠Are we gonna keep acting like this?â
âLike what?â You question.
âLike we hate each other.â Jake replies.Â
Itâs silent for a few minutes before you speak again, âis that what you want?â
âIs that what you want?â Jake repeats.Â
You swallow, the sound making an audible click inside the quiet car. âLetâs talk about this when youâre not literally balls deep inside of me.â
Jake makes a sound of agreement, but he canât help the uneasy feeling that fills his chest. He listens, trusting that theyâll cross that bridge when they get there, because if thereâs anything about Jake, itâs that he always wins and he always gets what he wants.Â
And what Jake wants? Itâs always been you.
#chamisulgrape#enhypen smut#sim jaeyun smut#jake smut#enha smut#jake x reader#enhypen x reader#jake imagines#jake scenarios#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fanfic#enhypen omegaverse au#enhypen abo#enhypen jake smut#sim jake smau#enhypen smau#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours
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Merry!Ex-mas.

18+ MDNI
22.k words synopsis: you get a notification about plane tickets you purchased about a trip you were excited for, only reason you're not excited at the remainder, is because you had planned the trip with your now ex. At the time you never thought you'd be spending December broken up. So, it felt like a great idea. not so much now. ex!jk x ex!femreader (fem anatomy.) exes to lovers use of 'yn' warnings: angst, fluff, smut: long-distance relationship, exes, second chance, miscommunication, b*tches is awkward, tension, one bed, forced proximity, Jungkook isn't crazy rich but he's got good money, i think he's an accountant, jk has that short ceo hair cut. reader has communication problem, jungkook's freaking green sweater needs it's own fanfic!, think are!you!sure jungkook. protective!jk, there's a creep who approaches reader as jungkook is off skiing, and whilst she's in the sauna(nothing bad happens.), sweet!wants!to!try!jk, jk has issues of not communicating too. they just can't seem to talk. avoiding stuff. teasing. touchy!jk, secret glances. jealousy, reader is very jealous,they're lying to themsleves, jungkook loves to take pictures especially of reader. hot tub jungkook who's looking up at you like you're a goddes. very needy kissing, boob sucking, dirty talking, oral(f!receiving.), handjob, cowgirl, protected!penetration, aftercare. hand kissing. [i don't know what else i need to add, let me know] as per usual, it was edited but if there are any errors, forgive me. A/N: this fic is honestly cause of that Jungkook green sweater I've never travelled to please don't come at me if anything is wrong. I very much world built some things. I've given written from top to bottom so don't except a part 2, unless maybe drabble requests. I wrote this in one week and i'm so proud i was able to write 22k words, in that time. though i was supposed to go up on the 25th[shhhhhh] A/N: i'm still learning how to write smut. so if you think the smut is cringe please don't tell me :) i don't wanna know. unless you want to help me improve it, and you do it kindly, i'd appreciate. likes, reblog, and all positive asks and comments are always appreciated. i hope you're happy with this one. [read under the cut]
You get the notification as you're scrolling through your phone. A remainder of sorts that you had been forgetting something. Cause you had been.
It loomed over you all week. The lingering feeling of remembering what you canât. You hated it. But now that you know itâs source you couldnât feel any worse.
Being the recipient of the message, youâre burdened with having to translate the message. Why do you have to do this? Broken up, having to text him feels like opening a can of worms. But the tickets are non-refundable, and it would be unfair for you to not inform him. You did both pay for them, Jungkook of course paying more because he was just too stubborn to split. he'd actually wanted to pay for the full thing but you were at odds with the idea. he settled eventually.
So, it would be unfair to not tell him. Right? Yes. But you donât want to believe it.
Even if how the hell are you going to remind your ex about the holiday trip you planned thinking youâd be together for; but in turn would celebrate separately. Before the notification of the trip.
To add on, now you have to open your chat. An action you dread to do; for your emotional health.
What are you actually going to say? You think, finger hovering over the keyboard. Something that wonât make you sound like youâve missed him, were thinking about him or even thinking about going on this trip with him. All which youâve been doing. Youâve succumb to the thoughts, only because you two broke up in October, still relatively early to just forget a 3-year relationship with someone you thought youâd marry.
Sigh.
You still havenât answered the question of how youâre even gonna bring it up. Will he even answer?
âshibalâ jimin laughs into the speaker, not helping you one bit. âyou two are ridiculous.â
You roll your eyes still waiting and hoping heâll say something sensible. Itâs all in vain. âHow the hell do you book a trip and break up just before. You couldnât wait?â He laughs and you just know heâs sat at his computer playing games, from his loud and unfocused speech.
âWe didnât freaking know weâd breakup.â You justify. âPlus, cause of the breakup we forgot. I forgot.â Your voice loses its strength at the end of the sentence, your mind slipping into a deep thought.
You havenât been able to remember anything of relevance since that day. Maybe only how to breath and live but youâd say your body takes full credit for that.
âHmm.â is all he says to you before screaming obscenities to someone in his game.
âJimin are you gonna be of any help or wh-â
âYou know what you should do?â
You want to believe his following statement will be of use, but you can never be certain.
âJust send itâ he groans from what you assume is an attack on him. Your brow raises. âSend him a screenshot of the notification. If he doesnât respond go on it on your own.â
âOr take me with youâ he whispers. If it came to it, would you even choose jimin to go with? Probably. Heâd help make it fun.
You sigh, still in the darkest of analysis. Itâs your best option what else could you say. So, you say your goodbye to jimin who is quick to go off to his game, without a second thought. Rude. Talking to him whilst heâs on his game is setting yourself up.
Back to having a staring contest with your phone. And after a long while of panic, thump fidgeting and dry eyes, you click on his contact (yes you still have it.) and just send the screenshot.
As you wait to make sure the picture is sent you catch a glimpse of the last text from your chat. You were avoiding slipping up and seeing it, but your eyes couldnât be helped.
Jungkook was the last to text.
Kookie<3: I miss you call me back.
Seeing the text makes your stomach churn. Makes your head spin with all the memories and emotions returning. You donât want to linger on it. Youâre quick to just sending the screenshot like jimin said, you only hope he doesnât ask too many questions. If he does respond. The little thought in your head surfaces. What if he wants nothing to do with you. What if youâre bothering him? You shouldnât have sent that text. But itâs too late now.
Youâre well aware his message was sent before you had broken up. The only reason you hadnât replied was because you couldnât. On the same day youâd called him back and told him how you didnât think youâd be able to do it anymore.
âMm?â he hums confused. You can hear it in his voice and it only makes you even more nervous to repeat.
âThis long-distance thing isnât working for us jungkook.â You bite you lower lip hoping to hide some of your emotions that threaten to ruin your speech. Your fingers fidget in the silence waiting for his response. But it never comes and for a moment you think heâs cut the call and youâve been talking to yourself. Thatâs when he sighs, showing you, heâs been listening but too shocked to speak.
You calling his full name, no nickname, strains at his heart. âAre you serious?â itâs calm, sad even. Of course heâs sad, youâre breaking up with him. Sad isnât even strong enough to describe what heâs feeling. Shock is just amongst them, maybe even a little anger. Youâve been going through a challenging period because of the difference in cities. But he never thought itâd come to this. Was it that bad?
âYeah.â Itâs weak defeated. You are, your whole relationship is.
Jungkook is awfully silent, heâs not sure why either. âIs there anything I can do?â heâs aware of the only solution available. But itâs not possible. Neither of your work will allow the other to move.
You shake your head like he can see it. but he doesnât need to see what your silence has already said.
After not much thought cause heâs not able to, he speaks. âIs this what you want?â his question only serves to add to your confusion.
âYou know itâs not but- âyou try to speak but the lump in your throat chokes you.
It hurts him that this is happening over a call. Wishes he couldâve spoken about it in person, cause thereâs more to it.
More that you havenât spoken about. Never have, and doubt you ever will or want to.
All this just makes the idea of this trip even more worrying. Thatâs if heâll want to go or even respond. You never got to know what he thought but you assume he has some sort of resentment for the way you ended things. You would too. Thatâs one of the things you feel guilty for.
Youâll say the way things ended was not ideal, and honestly it never made you feel good as you thought it would. It made you feel worse actually. But at least now you donât argue because you donât talk. Who are you kidding, you miss the arguments, something to remind he was there.
Guilt hovers but, you console yourself by saying that he probably wanted it too if he didnât try to fight for it. Which is unfair, but what else can you tell yourself as an excuse.
Your focus is now on your screen. Youâre about to exit the chat, but then those familiar popups of bubbles appear. Already?
The bubbles disappear and appear, which only serves to grow your anxiety. Is he about to rebuke you for texting him. Gosh, what the hell would you say after that? Heâs about to cuss you out. Suddenly your room feels too small to hold you and what youâre feeling.
But what pops up is even more anxiety inducing.
Kookie<3: Iâm in town. We should meet and talk tomorrow.
Why does he sound so professional? Why do you care. Oh- your mind, itâs spinning.
Heâs in town, when? Why didnât he tell you. This would be the first time you see him in a year since he moved. And he couldnât even just tell you he was in town. The reason to him being here is not unknown to you. Itâs the Christmas season and his parents do live in the same city as you. And just like you they were not happy about theyâre son moving so far away. But nothing was stopping jungkook. Nothing.
Youâre probably not important to him anymore but, couldnât he have just said, hi. Iâm in town. How long has he even been here for? You never thought heâd return to the city even for the holidays.
You shake the thoughts out of your head. You canât be over thinking this.
We?......meet?.....talk?.....TOMORROW!             Â

Tomorrow couldnât come any faster (not that you were excited for it.). Itâs almost as though it wants you and jungkook to meet.
You both agreed to meet at one of the small restaurants near your place. One you two frequented together, so it holds so much for you. Which only made you more anxious on your way.
When you walked in your eyes unconsciously moved to the table you and jungkook loved to seat at. It was good distance from the kitchen so your food could reach you quicker, and far from others so that jungkook could lean in and say the nastiest thing on earth. It always made you blush even though youâd swat at him. You spot jungkook sat where he usually sat. Coat taken off and hanged on his chair.
 âHey.â You choke out smiling politely as you reach the table and take off your coat, the inside of the restaurant too warm to be comfortable with it on.
You take a sit and allow your body to get accustomed to the environment. And jungkook.
Heâs quick to respond to your greeting just as awkward.
When youâre settled you finally get a chance to see just how much heâs changed in a year. The warm light from the ceiling softens his features which would normally be sharp in the dim lights of your bedroom. His hair is cut short. Last time you saw him it was neck length, but now itâs significantly short. Makes him look professional, mature. You like it, really like it. you wish you could just reach over and touch it, itâd probably be just as soft as you remember it and smell like lavender. You notice how he has it styled and gelled back so you doubt heâd be happy with you running your hands in it.
Jungkook spent an ungodly amount of time trying to get it to look like this, which he doesnât think is perfect enough, but he was running out of time. Something about this meeting had him wanting to go out. He just hopes you like it. he remembers you last saw it when it was longer. It was a big cut, but after your breakup, he felt like giving up the length, considering your hands loved to live in his hair.
You sit hand in lap waiting for your mouth to catch up with how fast your brain is working. Though if you did speak what your brain was thinking, youâd embarrass yourself.
âWe should order first.â He says rolling up the sleeves of his navy-blue denim shirt. The action reminding of the inks on his arm. A detail that adds to how attractive he is already. Youâre really hating yourself for your thoughts. In your defence you havenât seen him in the flesh for a year. âWhat do you wanna get?â he picks up his menu and you do too, stuttering in your movement. He seems calmer than you right now.
But the only thing is that heâs shitting himself inside. when he was sat before you came, his heart dropped every time he heard the door bells chime. Every time he turned it wasnât you. Only increasing his nervousness. Maybe he was a little to forward with his message. You havenât seen each other in a while and itâd probably be overwhelming, especially with a certain elephant in the room. He wouldâve definitely understood if you didnât want to show. On the chime of the door that followed his thoughts, he didnât turn, only for it to be you. In your full glory, making him fidget with his phone more. Which he put aside immediately you sat down.
Clearing your throat you speak, âsomething soup-y. Todayâs a little cold.â And you donât feel like throwing up what you eat.
Jungkook agrees and his red nose is evidence of that. Cute, you think.
After your orders are taken you turn back to silence. What could you probably say right now? You can feel the distance between you emotionally. And you hate how this is how you are after not seeing each other for a year. Before breaking up you thought of the many ways, youâd hug him once you got to see him. You were definitely delusional over how serious your distance was. Really wanting to believe it wouldnât be a problem; until it became one, and you just couldnât do it anymore.
You donât know how to behave right now.
âSo, when did you get back?â you settle on a soft and casual tone.
âJust yesterday.â He speaks sounding a little hesitant. After not knowing where to look you decide to just look at one thing. The table.
After beats of silence, you continue. Can your food come any faster? âyouâre staying with your parents?â
âYeah.â
You lived together, in your used to be shared apartment before he decided to move. So, his only option was to live with his parents for the mean time. He assumed you wouldnât want or even let him live with you. And it would be fair, you arenât together anymore.
âIâm Sure they were shocked to see how much youâve change.â Cause you are. You havenât seen his parents in the same time that he hasnât seen them.
âIt was a surprise drop in so Iâm sure they wereâ he says with weak chuckle. He bites into his lip before heâs looking at you again, but you donât stare at him. Itâs only when you realize his stare that you finally face him. âHow have you been? You look well.â Heâs dreading himself right now for not being able to speak to someone who has been, for 3 years, the only person he could speak to.
You do look good, and he canât take his mind off it. the camera has not been doing you justice. Your skin looks brighter and you generally are just glowing. Gosh he missed looking at you. The way small dainty jewellery serves to compliment your outfit. Your hair done in a way you like, and he loves.
âI try.â You smile. Every chance you get you take a glace at his lip piercing. Youâd forgotten just how it made him even the more--. âYou look well too. Howâs the job going?â
He sucks in a breath, showing visible stress at the thought of his job. âitâs going okay. Easiest way to put it.â he chuckles, awkwardly. You smile, awkwardly too. âI missed it here though, so much stuff I left behind.â
You just hum, nodding. Avoiding how his eyes glancing over you, just for a second as he was looking for where to keep his gaze whilst speaking.
âBut Iâm sure youâre having fun that side.â That side. He can hear the strength you put on the words. Instead of fiddling on your lap you decide to fold your arms on your chest. Finding it appropriate for the feelings that are sneaking in.
âYou can say that, but thereâs just something that feels empty yâknow.â You do know, but you both choose to leave the conversation implicit.
And right on time, your food arrives saving you from saying anything. What the heck would you say when you canât even think.
You two are soon digging into your food. Jungkook in his kimchi jjigae and you in yours.
âI missed this- mmm.â He hums making that little angry face he makes when he likes food. You laugh, a little to loud at that causing him to look up at you. You drop your smile.
âMrs Kim always asks me about you when I come here.â 6 slices of chopped spring onion garnish you havenât eaten, yet.
He leans back in his chair, unintentionally watching you eat.
He turns his head towards the kitchen where the lady in question usually spends her time. âWhere is she anyways?â heâs back to digging into his food. the steam from the food warming his cold nose.
âsheâs visiting sung Hoon in the US.â You inform him, taking in how relaxed youâve become.
He nods at the info, âAhh- she finally got to got to the US?â he smiles. He remembers how she would come to the table; sheâd complain that her son doesnât want her to visit, which was not the case. But being the dramatic lady she is, she would think that. â âm sure she was so excited.â
âno one could hear the end of it.â
He chuckles and you find yourself laughing too. But as much as youâre seemingly getting comfortable (though not wholly.) silence finds a way to wrap itâs long, cold and slimy finger around you two.
After youâre done eating your meals in silence, jungkook thinks itâs time to discuss the reason youâre even meeting. Cause you have nothing more to talk about.
âwhatâs the plan for the trip?â he shifts in his seat. âAssuming youâd want to go.â He doubts.
You take a deep breath before speaking, looking over at the whole scene of the restaurant. âI donât know, weâd leave on Thursday. Assuming youâd want to go too.â You would want to go, thatâs why you booked the trip. Itâs only your situation that makes it awkward.
âDo you?â his question comes out fast and sudden and he regrets how quick it came out.
âMm?â you mutter like you couldnât hear what he said.
He clarifies choosing to speak more calmly and composed. âDo you want to go?â
The question takes you aback as though you hadnât been asking yourself the same thing.
Reaching to play with the little gem on your necklace you stutter out. âI-I mean- yeah we spent money on it.â you shrug your shoulders as if youâre unconsciously saying otherwise, but really, youâre just trying to keep your statement open. In case he doesnât want to go, and youâre left embarrassed with an extra ticket.
Jungkook instead takes your action as you probably not wanting to go. âI get it if you donât. Itâs a weird situation.â His hands move to touching his hair.
You trying to jump in but end up speaking a little too fast. âNo, I do. Plus, I hate wasting money.â You do hate wasting money, truly. And it is just that and the fact that you would love a trip right now, to de-stress.
âBut do you want to go with me?â that churning feeling in your stomach is returning, and youâve just eaten which makes it all the much better.
Biting down on your lip and releasing it you say, âI mean I wouldnât want to go on my own.â You hate how you feel your throat choking up. âWho else would I go with?â you awkwardly joke. There are some people youâd go with. But you planned this trip with jungkook and he paid the much for the tickets. So, itâs only fair to go with him. If he wants to.
He skips your question, not in bad taste. itâd be weird for you to go on a trip you planned with him with someone else. Maybe he did think of it, that maybe youâd enjoy it more if you werenât with him. But then he thought it through. Shit doesnât have to be awkward unless you both make it. so, you can enjoy this trip if you just agree to enjoy it. âI donât mind going with you, but I donât want you to feel forced to have me there.â
âI have no problem with you, jungkook.â You saying his name even though itâs not the pet name he enjoys feels like a warm touch to him. âI just want to know if you wanna go.â You find it in you to ask.
âI donât mind it at all.â He says, relieving you of your fears.
He sighs. After he silence speaks. âI canât believe I forgot about it. I was so excited for it too.â he reminiscing on the day. It was such a good idea. Is a good idea, if you just agree to enjoy it.
âSo? Itâs settled right?â You sit up grabbing your stuff and preparing to leave. Jungkookâs smile falls realizing that the moment is ending. But he will see you soon still.
âYeah.â He prepares to leave too.
âWe leave Thursday, I guess. Weâll stay in touch.â
And thatâs it, your conversation ends with you managing to avoid the larger topic at hand. Itâs like a game.

You throw your clothes in haphazardly. Youâre in a panic, which is not necessary cause you have enough time, the whole day to be precise. Your flightâs tomorrow. But the whole airport thing has always found a way to make you panic.
You grab some essentials, but in frustration. Maybe you just want to get it over with. The packing, not the trip. Honestly it feels like itâs already started. Is this how youâre going to be.
As you search through your closet you land on a sweater, one you remember too well. Itâs green colour and fluffy soft texture makes it the warmest thing you own. A very memorable sweater, for the warmth it brought you and its origin. You can still smell him on it. You dread packing it and resort to shoving it further in your closet. Youâll think about it.
You stare at your zipped up suitcase for a bit before your eyes gloss over to your phone that buzzes on your bed. For a split second you wonder if itâs jungkook. Could he have changed his mind. you sigh relived when you see itâs just jimin.
Who chooses to say nothing of value and just tease you. âHonestly why do I tell him these things.â You throw your phone on your bed.
Jungkook stands over his already packed suitcase. He just has to zip it closed and seal this trip. He sighs rubbing his lower lip. Before you two broke up he had so much planned for this trip. So much he wanted to say and do. But it's different now and itâd be weird and wrong to say those things. Not before talking of course.
Is he looking forward to this trip? Yes-wait- maybe. The trip in itself is fine, a great and good idea and opportunity to enjoy a holiday and relax. But your presence entails something more something he has to deal with (in a responsible and good way) and that he's been running away from.
 "You're excited huh?" his mother smiles leaning against his door frame, watching. He's not sure what about his facial expression, body language or general demeanour would make her think that he's excited. Itâs not like heâs dreading or regretting it. itâs more like excitement is the last thing heâs feeling cause of all heâs thinking of.
He doesn't say anything before she's speaking again.
"You need this trip. you've been so busy." He has. Too much at that. So much that he forgot you two had even broken up and was about to go to your place first when he arrived. Heâd been so excited to surprise you, then it dawned on him. His tires were quick to turning. His thoughts are cut short by his mother. "it'll help you spend more time with yn."
"I guess." he replies unenthusiastically. Though itâs the same idea theyâre both thinking of it in a different context. Something that his mother doesnât know yet.
He doesn't stare at where she stands only at his suitcase analysing what he's packed and what the heck is actually going on. "Plus, it would be a perfect place to propose." She enthuses, joyous at the thought. He seems to have slightly forgotten about that detail too.
 When you were planning the trip, he made a plan to propose to you on it. It honestly is the perfect place to and he felt like it was the right time. Of course, you'd be arguing but it wasn't something that was holding back your relationship. Plus, he thought you'd talked it out well enough. So, he spent his free time after planning the trip, shopping for rings and looking proposal ideas and even asked some of his colleagues for advice. Itâd be a trip where you got to spend some time after being away for so long.
But that's when you called and honestly kicked him in the balls. Too confused he just went along with it.
"Switzerland is such a good choice, you kids are so good at these things." She says probably imaging herself there too. Itâs not long before his eyes are staring at the black velvet box on his dressing table, and his head is spinning all over again. He knows how excited she gets about this and she wonât stop. âYou could take a walk and then pull out the Ring with those mountains in the back and-"
"Eomma!" His deep voice stops her, not harshly but whiny. Not telling his parents about the breakup is honestly the most overwhelming thing because of how his mother adores you and finds a way to bring you up in every conversation. she could go on but the tired look on her son's face makes her stop. She wants to pry on why he looks more drained that ecstatic but she chooses against it.
âIs something wrong?â
He realizes just how carried away heâs getting with his emotions. He shakes his head. âno. Iâm just stressed.â He finally looks up at her to give a smile that doesnât reach his eyes but she returns.
"Sorry, you know how I get carried away. I'm sure you have your own plan let me not stress you."
She leaves and he sighs
No. He has no plan of his own. He has no plan at all.

Your suitcase handle is firmly clutched into your hand as you walk into the airport.
Your eyes scan the crowd. Every face. Each bag too, because you know which one he'd probably be carrying with him. Seeing it again is gonna be triggering cause the last time you saw it was the last time you saw him off.
You and jungkook agreed to come separately and since his parents lived closer to the airport he'd be here first and wait for you by security. But now that you're there you can't see him. Maybe he's a little late but why wouldn't he tell you.
You told him you had just arrived but he hasn't even seen that message. Has he changed his mind? is the first thing that pops up in your head. If he has that's a shitty way to do it. Just ghost you?
So, you pull out your phone to call him. âPick up." You mutter under your breath.
No answer.
You feel stupid. It honestly feels like you're on a Lifetime show or even worse TLC.
Your annoyance bubbles over as you glance around the busy security area. "Where is he?" you ask yourself.
 Though you think he has, you doubt jungkook would just ghost you. It's not what you know him to be. You tap your foot impatiently and try to call him again. Still nothing. Your heart finally relaxes when you spot him already walking to you. "Seriously?" You say a little upset when he finally reaches. "Why didn't you answer your phone?"
"Oh. I didn't hear it." He says pulling it out of his pocket. "Must be on silent. Iâm sorry." He looks at you genuinely so. And you canât bring yourself to be as mad as you want to be. Itâs not a big deal, heâs here now.
âitâs okay, we should get going, weâre almost late.â You say frustrated with how traffic delayed your arrival. Jungkook just hums agreeing and surprising you by taking you suitcase. Youâd tell him itâs fine and you can manage but heâs already walking ahead of you. Probably not wanting to hear it.
A tense silence stretches between you two as you wait to board your plane. Sitting side by side has never felt so awkward, like the space between you is miles wide. You scroll through your phone, pretending to be so into it. You donât notice Jungkook stealing occasional glances at you. Or rather, at the sweater youâre wearingâthe one he gave you (more like you took.) just before he moved to another town. The green complimenting your skin. He loves how it just melts to fit you. Heâs glad to know that youâre warm, heâs aware of how incredibly warm it is.
He wonders if youâre wearing it deliberately, or if itâs just because itâs the warmest thing you own, and todayâs even colder than yesterday. Probably no meaning behind it. At least, thatâs what he tells himself. Though itâs not enough to stop him from developing a smile on his face, one he covers with his hand.
The low hum of voices and the faint crackle of the airport announcements fill the silence. Someone walks past, dragging a squeaky suitcase, the airport noises the only thing between the two of you.
âI know this is awkward.â He starts randomly, at first doubting he was talking to you but then you move your attention to him, when you realize itâs only you he can be talking to. Itâs not like you were looking at anything on your phone. âI want us to enjoy it. I want you to enjoy it.â
âI want you to enjoy it too.â You find yourself speaking before your brain can process.
He smiles and turns to meet your eyes. All of a sudden, he feels so close. âSo can we just pretend.â His eyes donât move, if possible, they stare even deeper into yours. Yours donât move as well. âPretend like everythingâs okay.â He speaks low as if he doesnât want others around to hear. âAgree?â
You havenât said much, instead just let him speak. âAgreed.â
You donât mind pretending. Youâve been pretending youâre okay all this time, so why canât you do it now.
-
You watch Jungkook sliding the bags into the overhead storage above your seats. He notices you approaching and nods for you to have the window seat.
âYou sure?â you ask only because he called dibs when you planned the trip that heâd be getting the window seat.
He nods. âYeah. I know you like it more than I do.â You do. He only called dibs because he was trying to âone upâ you like everythingâs a game.
You squeeze passed him get comfortable in your seat and heâs soon sitting next to you. Youâre glad itâs just two seats.
You sit in silence for most of the flight, each pretending to be too absorbed in your own activities to notice the other. Jungkook watches you out of the corner of his eye as you scroll through your phone, then switch to reading a book. This trip canât be that bad, you tell yourself. Of course, you two havenât talked about your breakup, but it doesnât have to come up. Youâll just enjoy the weekend and go back to normal, like he saidâpretend---if either of you even knows what that means.
What are the boundaries of pretending.
At some point, you shift in your seat, leaning against him, your head resting on his shoulder. Youâre asleep, of course, but Jungkook glances down at you, momentarily startled. He considers waking you but decides against it. Instead, he leans back slightly, letting you stay there.
As the plane hums softly and moves through the sky, Jungkook canât help but wonder if this trip could be his chance to fix things. How does he want it to happen? Does he even know? All he knows it that you do eventually have to talk about things. Do you even want to talk about it, because you seem to be avoiding it.
But thereâs only so much avoiding you can do.

As soon as the plane lands, you stretch in your seat, surprised you managed to sleep for that long. Glancing at Jungkook, you watch as he pulls the luggage from the overhead bin. He looks like he didnât get any sleep at all, you had been sleeping on his shoulder for most of the time. You exchange a brief lookâjust acknowledging each other and your present momentâbefore heading off the plane
The crisp Swiss air hits you as you step outside the terminal, and you follow Jungkook as he gets into a cab and it drives confidently toward a car rental area, which youâre confused about but donât ask. Jungkook picks up keys from the reception and you walk through the parkin lot looking for what you donât know. Youâre just following. You stare at him puzzled as he dangles the keys. Heâs been quiet, and you hadnât even expected to rent a car. Public transport seemed like the plan, but now that you think about it, you remember how Jungkook feels about it.
âYou rented a car?â you raise a brow.
He nods, âyeah, itâd be easier. Thought youâd approve.â
He catches a glance of your face, like youâre trying to figure something out, but canât.
âHmm.â You only hum.
âYou look cute when youâre confusedâ. He takes you by surprise. âCome on.â He says walking and not letting you process his words. You just try to shake them out of your head.
You donât admit it, but you're impressed. He thought ahead. And youâre honestly glad he didâsomething you feel heâs been lacking the past year.
Once heâs done packing the luggage into the car, he closes the trunk and slides into the driverâs seat. Youâre not sure why youâre shocked to find out itâs a Mercedes-benz g63 amg. Youâd always known he had an obsession with luxury cars, especially ones like this. The fact that his job pays so well certainly helps, you guess moving out of town mustâve been worth it.
The car is great-- so comfortable, and the heater works perfectly, keeping you warm against the cold.

As Jungkook adjusts the mirrors, you scroll through your contacts, trying to figure out what to call the person you booked the cabin with, âwhat do I call them a host?â You mutter under your breath before dialling the number.
Jungkook glances at you as you speak to the host in quick tones. "Got it, thanks," you say, giving a quick wave of your phone toward Jungkook. With the directions noted you can now get to moving.
"Okay, so we head north, then take-â
âNorth?" Jungkook interrupts, starting the engine. "Are you sure it's not west or whatever?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
You glare at him. He glances at one map and thinks he knows his way around Switzerland.
"I just talked to the guy," you say flatly.
Jungkook smirks, recalling a past trip. "Remember last time we travelled, and we ended up on a dead-end street?" he says with a cheeky smile on his face. heâs teasing you.
You roll your eyes at the memory. You had been driving through the outskirts, and your GPS got wonky, causing you to go down a deserted road.
âIf youâd listened to me, we wouldnât have gotten lost,â you reply.
You stop bickering, finally following the GPS. Jungkook decides to follow the directions, and the tension eases as you leave the city behind.
The atmosphere shifts, replaced by a sense of awe at the breathtaking scenery. Low-capped mountains stretch into the horizon, Swiss chalets dot the landscape, and the sun reflects off the lakes. Youâre glad you arrived during the day; cause nighttime would not have done the view justice.
You watch out the window, your voice filled with awe. "Oh my gosh, it's so beautiful." Jungkook glances at your direction before returning his attention to the road. "Yeah, it is," he agrees, equally mesmerized by the view.î
"Can you grab my camera from the back?" he askes. Recalling his passion for photography, you canât be surprised he has it with him.
You pull out the camera from his bag, noticing itâs larger and more expensive looking than the one you had gifted him. "Do you still have your other one?" youâre curious.
He knows what youâre hinting to. "It fell in water during a fishing trip with my team, but I'm getting it fixed."
âDo you still have the pictures.â Youâd hate to lose them, even though they are null and void now, you still like how happy you looked in them.
âYeah. Theyâre in my SD.â He informs you and youâre glad.
You fumble with the new camera, struggling to operate its buttons, he notices. "There's a button just there," he directs. Though you arenât much of a photographer, you manage to snap some decent shots of the scene. You take a lot to make sure you have options.
Feeling playful, you turn the camera to jungkook and snap a pic of him. You had always admired his model-like features and often joked he should pursue modelling instead of his current path, which kept him 218 miles away. But now you realize modelling would only take him even farther.
He never agreed to the idea but never argued either. He preferred to appreciate beauty rather than be the centre of attention.
"Did you just take a picture of me?" he asks, a hint of surprise in his voice.
"Yeah, just one," you reply.
He doesnât respond, leaving you to wonder what heâs thinking. Is he upset? Did you cross a pretending line?
"Wanna stop and take pictures," he grins, "yâknow for your Instagram."
Itâs not a bad idea, but you donât want to be late and have the host waiting for too long.
"We won't be long." he looks over to see if youâre considering. He smiles when sees that you are. You don't post much on Instagram, and he knows that. But it wouldn't hurt to have some pictures from this trip.
"Let's be quick," you accept.
He pulls over to the side of the road and when youâre out heâs approaching you to take the camera. "Let me take some of you first," you insist. He isnât so keen on it though.
"Just a few," you whine dodging him trying to take it from your hands.
"We're supposed to be quick." He reminds you. "And you know I'm not a fan of pictures of me."
 You not wanting to bicker. You hand it over to him. "But I will take pictures of you eventually," itâs a promise.
You quickly get posing on a spot you like, and he snaps several pictures. Some you were prepared for, while others were candid of you looking up a bird flying over, like youâve never seen a bird before. or just in awe of the scene behind. Why do the birds seem so majestic here?
Jungkook smiles as he continues to take photos, forgetting the time. "I think that's enough. We're going to be late," you say, running out of poses to do.
You start walking to the car and he snaps one more picture of the scene before getting back and starting the car. Whilst adjusting to the warmth he hands you the camera.
"These are so pretty," you bulge your eyes out at how good jungkook is at taking pictures. You can definitely see the difference. Jungkook canât help but feel a sense of pride. You scroll through the camera, admiring more pictures.
Then you scroll a little too far and notice a series of photos featuring a friendâsomeone he seems to be close to. In one, she leans on his shoulder, a gesture that causes some type of discomfort or irritation. You couldnât be sure, youâre too busy scrolling. She smiles too hard, you judge.
gosh you're pathetic. Why are you acting like this. The man is not your boyfriend he can do whatever. The statement causes an unwanted sour taste to form over your taste buds.
You continue to scroll, analysing the photos, each one deepening your insecurities.
"Careful, you're gonna damage the buttons," Jungkook jokes when he notices your rushed movement. He wonders what has you that way.
When he speaks, youâre brought back to reality. Though youâre brought back with an attitude. You switch off the device and lay it back where you found it, sitting back down with a scowl on your face and jungkook wonders the cause.
You had been fine just a moment ago. He doesnât say anything and focuses fully on the road ahead. The silent drive to the cabin feels anything but aesthetic.

You sigh as the car slows, leaving behind the snow-covered path. When you approach the cabin, itâs instantly recognizable from the photo. At least you werenât lost or scammed. The place looks serene. Itâs blanketed in snow. Itâs not like those huge family ones. Itâs small just to fit you and jungkook. Youâd have no money to buy anything or activities if you booked those larger ones. And theyâre unnecessary cause itâs just the two of you.
Jungkook parks the car, and as you both step out, the awkwardness thatâs shadowed the trip returns. It had been there from the beginning, lingering beneath exchanges and strained silences. Brief moments, like taking pictures earlier, had been relieving, but even that had soured quickly. Now, neither of you had much to say.
The cabinâs host, a kind older man with a thick Swiss accent, greets you warmly, showing you around the cozy interior and pointing out the back patio before leaving. Once alone, you both quietly bring in the luggage. The silence is deafening, broken only by the crunch of snow you step on.
Due to your irritation that some how still lingered you step a little too hard on the icy ground, and in an instant, your foot slips. You land awkwardly in a mix of snow and dirt, the impact cushioned but still hurting.
âAre you okay?â Jungkook calls, his voice tinged with concern and amusement. Heâd drop the luggage to come check on you if you hadnât brushed him away with your hand.
Still irritated, now cause of the fall, you dust yourself off and move yourself inside. You drop the luggage in bedroom and start taking off your sweater, only to have Jungkook walk in moments later.
âOne bed,â he states, looking at the large, centred piece of furniture. âLooks comfy.â You seem to have forgotten the cabin was loverâs themed, so it did only have one bed. The host had asked you if it was a problem when he saw the look on your face but you just brushed it away at you being tired.
You glance at the bed, then at him. âYeah. Guess youâll have to take the couch,â you joke, though your tone comes out flatter than intended.
âNope.â He flops onto the bed, which creaks under his weight, making him pause to check if itâs broken. When it holds, he relaxes. âIâm sleeping right here.â
You sigh, deciding itâs not worth arguing. Youâve shared a bed beforeâit shouldnât be a big deal so many times at that. But those times are not now and you have to deal with your new circumstance.
âIâm gonna take a shower,â you announce, expecting him to leave the room. Instead, he sprawls comfortably on the bed.
âKnock yourself out,â he replies casually.
Groaning, you grab your toiletries and head to the bathroom. The hot water feels like a gift, relaxing your tense muscles. If only the whole trip could feel this peaceful.
When you return, Jungkook is gone, though his shoes by the door confirm he hasnât gone far. You search through your suitcase for a sweater, only to realize you packed just one sweaterâthe one now wet and dirty. Frustration bubbles as you grab a thin, long-sleeved shirt. Itâll have to do, though you doubt itâll keep you warm in tomorrowâs outdoor activities.
Meanwhile, Jungkook in the kitchen has immersed himself in exploring the layout of it. whilst on his expedition his attention drifts to a tiny blue bird minding its business outside the window. He leans into it but carefully not to scare it away. Thankfully it doesnât seem to find him a bother. âGot any advice for me?â he murmurs, taking a peek behind him. The bird doesnât react, oblivious to his internal conflict. Heâs unsureâabout you, about himself, about what this trip is supposed to accomplish.
When you enter the kitchen and done talking to his new friend who doesnât present him with anything viable but his company, heâs quick to point out the lack of groceries. âWe should go shopping. Itâs on your itinerary, right?â he teases lightly.
You nod, unsurprised he remembers. Youâd always been the planner, the one who thought of everything. Maybe thatâs why the breakup hurt so muchâit came so suddenly, leaving no time to plan how to feel or move on.
As heâs about to suggest leaving immediately, he notices you rubbing your arms. âArenât you cold?â he asks, gesturing to your thin shirt.
âIâm fine,â you reply dismissively, though you clearly arenât.
âPut on a sweater before you get sick,â he insists. His boyfriend instincts linger, even now.
You hesitate but eventually admit, âI forgot to pack an extra one.â The way how stares at you is so embarrassing for you.
Jungkook chuckles softly, though not unkindly. âOf course you did.â You roll your eyes. He moves to grab a sweater from his suitcase and hands it to you. âHere. Borrow this.â
You take it, the faint scent of his cologne that seems to be on everything he wears no matter how much he washes, invaded your senses. âThanks,â you say quietly, slipping it on and hoping not to ruin this one too.
By the time you return from the store, exhaustion settles in. You both sit in the living room, cups of hot cocoa in hand. Jungkook flips through the channels while you sit quietly, the warmth of his sweater and the fire calming you.
âYouâve made a lot of friends in Jeju,â you say suddenly, your tone sharper than intended.
Jungkook pauses, confused. âWhat friends?â
âColleagues, maybe? Customers? I saw the pictures on your camera,â you admit, staring into your cup instead of at him.
He leans back, waiting. He knows what youâre referring to and could explain that the woman in the photos was a client a little too excited and touchy about her wedding rehearsal photos, and had wanted photos with him. But he wants you to ask.
Instead, the silence stretches, filled with unspoken questionsâquestions about Jeju, the photos, the breakup, and even yourself. You sigh, pushing them aside.
âis there something you wanna ask?â
âThereâs nothing I want to ask,â you finally say, though the bitterness in your voice betrays the truth.
Jungkook laughs softly, shaking his head. âI thought we agreed on pretending.â His voice is still soft.
âI know. Just donât want you pretending if youâve got other things going on.â
Jungkook chuckles taking a sip of his cocoa.â Iâm good.â
âIâm good too.â
âGood.â
You watch him stand a sly smirk adoring his face. âletâs go back to pretending now, okay?â he says looking at you.
You mumble a sure and he walks off. Probably to sleep.
Sleeping the same bed is even more awkward. After spending some minutes youâd decide you were too tired to be awake, you came the bedroom.
Jungkook was still awake staring at his phone, and for some reason shirtless. He likes to sleep shirtless and the tension between you two isnât going to stop him.
Jungkook tries to keep his eyes to himself as you change into your pajamas. You didnât want to be childish so you just changed right there. Itâs nothing heâs never seen before. He wonât act like the action doesnât cause a rise in memories and he holds himself to not thinking further. Soon youâre crawling into your side and laying facing away from him. Jungkook chooses to lie on his back, the bed big enough for you to keep your distance. He turns off the lights but your eyes remain open staring into the dark.
As the night continues, none of you are able to fall asleep. Jungkook tries to make himself comfortable, his shifting cause you to think he might be moving closer, but he doesnât. why do you feel sad. Your brain is used to being close to him and him holding you in situations like this. And he too is used to wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer into him. But thereâs none of that.
âI canât fucking sleep.â he groans frustratedly sitting up. He runs his hands in his hair. He looks over at you thinking youâre asleep, the darkness preventing him from actually knowing. Heâs jealous at the idea of you being able to sleep, but when your frustrated voice sounds, heâs relieved. Relieved that heâs not the only not able to sleep.
âSame.â You mutter remaining on your side.
Jungkook huffs and puffs contemplating on asking what heâd been debating. Your bodies are probably used to sleeping closer to each other, so maybe thatâsâ why itâs hard. You surely wonât mind if it means you get to sleep right?
He looks over to you and how far you seem from. He doesnât like, hates the reality of it. âCan I sleep closer to you.â His words and the fact that he actually said takes you aback. You freeze. Your silence is killing him, he shouldnât have said it. he should take it back, wellâbut heâs already sai-
âOkay.â Okay? Well, that was easy, he thought youâd be looking at him weird. but no, you just lay on your side waiting for him.
When he said closer you never thought he meant this close. Youâre the closest you can be. But you donât mind it, it actually brings you that giddy feeling, like itâs your first time cuddling. You realize just how much you missed it. He nuzzles his face in your neck and this is when heâd kiss your shoulder and neck but he doesnât and the detail is gravely missed. He has to hold himself from not doing it.
âWeâre going to move to the middle of the bed, darling.â Itâs only then that you realize how much at the edge you were. You shuffle yourselves and move into the center and get comfortable in the position.
âAre you comfortable?â
So much you hate to say it. You canât even bring yourself to be angry. ây-yeah.â You can barely respond coherently with how his voice is so close sending goosebumps all over you.
âCan I put my around you? Itâs the only place I can put it.â he tries to explain, but you were actually hoping for it.
You nod for him to go ahead and he wraps his arm around you. Honestly, he shouldâve just asked if he could cuddle you, because this is basically what youâre doing. He didnât have to mask it; youâd have said yes either way. He doesnât know that though.
Now that youâre close to him and him to you, you both weirdly fall asleep, very quickly at that.

First thing on your itinerary was to visit the Lindt home of chocolate youâd been drooling at the thought of it since you planned this trip. It would honestly be a crime to visit Switzerland and not visit the Lindt factory. Being a lover of chocolate no activity on your list will be as good as this.
âI donât know why they have us putting our bags away.â Jungkook whines taking off his jacket, as required and placing it in a locker. âHow am I supposed to carry my chocolate.â His speech is almost childlike. You just chuckle.
 â Thatâs why they do it.â You inform him, with a soft smile and start to walk ahead of him. Jungkook walks behind you, watching how you look around with wonder.
Did he mention how good he feels right now. The sleep he had last night was the best heâs had in a while. And it only serves to tell him how much heâs missed your presence. Just you as a whole. Being away from you for so long has had an effect on him too. Itâs only now, that heâs not able to do all the things he used to do, that he realizes how much heâs missed it. And how much you mean to him.
âOh my gosh.â Jungkook watches how you take in the aroma of chocolate. It invades his senses and when youâre turning around to check on him, heâs nodding. You want him to enjoy this just as you are.
You gasp and itâs when you spot the huge chocolate fountain that you pull Jungkookâs attention to it by his arm. âitâs so fucking huge.â You say still holding onto him.
âthatâs what she said.â
You roll your eyes. âGrow up.â You both laugh. and itâs when youâre lost in laughter and admiring the fountain that jungkook looks down to see you still holding his arm. So, in a swift action of no thought, all instinct he moves to hold your hand.
Your head sharply moves to look at him then at his hand holding yours and then back up at him. Heâs got this innocent smile on his face and you canât help but warm up into his hold. You donât mind the action of holding hands but you fear what it implies. Is he for real or still pretending?
For the first minutes you stay holding hands, until jungkook is pulling away to grab his camera. You rub you hands together to try and regain your sense of independence. What the heck are you doing, holding hands? This pretending thing Is a good idea, but itâs definitely messing with you in some way. All ways. Heâs giving you things that youâve been craving. The cuddle at night, the holding hands, youâve missed it all. But you donât know where itâs coming from, does he miss you too or is he pretending. To think of it you never really discussed what type of pretending youâre doing. Are you pretending to still be together or are you pretending to be good friends. Gosh this is so stressful. And confusing. You wonder if heâs stressing like you are. He seems calm. Heâs handling this so well.
âWaitâI need a picture of you. Stand still.â He points the camera to you and youâre quick to turning your head away.
âitâs fine you donât need to-â snap.
He doesnât give you the time to object and just snaps. âJungkook stop taking pictures of me.â He doesnât. youâre embarrassed to be doing this in public. But he seems thrilled. âOkay wait-â he doesnât so you choose to reaching for the Lense. But jungkook doesnât mind filling his storage with pictures of your palm. âKook, wait.â
âKook?â he questions smiling. You realize your mistake. Honestly you didnât mean to call him that, it just came out naturally for you to get him to stop. And it worked. Though now it shifts the air.
You groan. âI didnât mean it like that.â You roll your eyes. You donât even know what youâre saying.
He doesnât linger on it more, which honestly helps your case. The blush on your face is deserving of a picture. Snap.
âStop that before I revoke your privileges.â You threaten. He doesnât want that.
He raises his hands in surrender. âwonât do it again.â
You ignore him and turn to keep walking.
âCan take more later though?â
You donât answer, but he takes it as a yes. Youâve always been his muse, itâs not gonna stop now. His camara is now getting some action.
This place is actually so beautiful, smells amazing too. The pictures you saw did not do it justice.
âLook at the strawberries, the nuts. AhâIâm in heaven.â
Jungkook smiles as he watches enjoy and pointing for him to look at the large container, of everything that goes well with chocolate. Heâs really just happy that youâre including him, by telling him how much you freaking love this place or how you want to stay here forever. It makes him feel like things arenât all that bad between the two of you and it can be fixed.
âWhy are you looking at me like that.â You narrow your eyes at him. Gosh he forgot how long he was looking for. Youâd been telling him something but he zoned out.
âOh-nothing.â He clears his throat.
You just brush it off, cause if you linger on it, youâll melt. Jungkook looking at you has been a weakness for you, thereâs just something about him focusing on you and having only you in sight. âAnyway, I was saying try this.â
He doesnât regain his consciousness before youâre bringing a spoon full of chocolate to his lips. he takes it, tasting the sweetness of it.
He licks the chocolate off his lips when you pull away. âMmmâŚ.so good.â You nod glad that he likes it. Though way heâs looking at you makes you think he might not be talking about the chocolate. You choose to ignore your thoughts with a cough.
As you go on you learn facts about chocolate and the factory and jungkook takes the pictures. When walking around you make sure to not forget to collect little pieces of chocolate from the dispensers. And itâs not long before your hands are getting full.
When your expedition is over, youâre returning to your bags to stuff them with your treasure.
âThis is a lot of chocolate.â Jungkook states.
You shake your head. âitâs not that much.â
âYeah of course an addict is telling me that.â
You gasp. âIâm not an addict.â
âTell that to all the money Iâve spent buying you chocolate.â Money which it didnât mind and loved spending.
âHonestly thatâs all on you.â You say raising your hands. He chuckles.
Getting tired you both decide to go by the cafĂŠ inside the factory. Whilst there you both order some food to eat which is not chocolate, except you. For your beverage you picked to drink the famous hot cocoa. Which tastes like heaven made it themselves.
âHow do I take this home with me?â you say motioning to your drink.
âJust stay.â He meant to say you both could just stay, but his tongue tripped.
You nod, thinking about it. âI could.â Moving to Switzerland and living here would be a dream. But unfortunately, things arenât that easy. Finding a job would be hard, plus the language barrier would kill you.
âdonât.â heâs almost pleading. âI donât know how Iâd tell your family I lost you to Switzerland.â More like he doesnât know how heâd fix things.
âHonestly itâs no competition.â You say in deep thought and analysis.
âWhat? you would leave me for Switzerland?â He says it not realizing causing you to chuckle. And when you look at him, he gets it.
The conversation doesnât go farther after that. Jungkook just stays in his thought. When jungkook had made the decision to move. He honestly thought it wouldnât be that bad. Heâd plan on maybe moving you out to him when he settled down, but your job was a very hot topic. At the time he hadnât realized how serious it was. But now he does.
If it was you moving, heâd be just as hurt. And it pissing him off that he hadnât realize the impact.
For your second and last activity for the day, cause of the way time just flies by; is the largest indoor flea market.
You spend your time there; just looking around, eating, and buying stuff. During your move you make it a mission to take pictures of jungkook. And you do manage to take some good ones.
He also finds an opportunity to ask about your work and how itâs going. And if that co-worker that bothers you is still around. Heâs glad to learn that she did get moved to another department. Heâs happy with whatever makes you comfortable.
As youâre talking, youâre approached by a couple, older but not old and tourists as well. They ask you to take a picture of them and jungkook is glad to assist. When heâs done, theyâre happy and offer to take a picture of you too, jungkook wants to decline the offer assuming you wouldnât want to but youâre quick to accepting.
âyou two look so lovely together.â The lady says and you have no clue what to say apart form an awkward thank you. You wouldnât blame them for thinking youâre a couple, not with the way jungkook is smiling at the picture.
âGrow up kook.â
âWhat?â he whines. âItâs a good photo.â
You roll your eyes before walking away. He follows behind you, smiling.
-----
Soon your day on paper comes to an end and youâre returning to the cabin.
You did not know what to expect of your day in the morning. Your night was okay but would the rest of the day go the same? those were some of your thoughts. But to your pleasure the day went well, great even. You just hope itâs the same for the rest of the trip.
Jungkook is on cocoa duty (not assigned but he took the responsibility.) and youâd be lying if you said he didnât do a good job at it every time.
Leaning against the counter holding your mug and watching him finishes up with his own, you watch.
âHowâd you like the Lindt factory?â
He takes a sip before answering. âGreat. Honestly enjoyed it more than I thought.â
âWhat? You donât trust my judgement?â you watch as he leans on the counter opposite from you.
âitâs not that. Just never thought I was that big of a chocolate fan.â
You hum. Silence fills the kitchen as youâre just enjoying the drink. Why does the air feel so thick, is it the way he just leans there. Pajamas not doing a very good job at hiding his physique. Why the hell does he look buffer. Gosh, his arms look like theyâd lift and lay you to your demise. In the morning you caught a glimpse of his shirtless torso, and you were about to lose your cool. To add gasoline to the fire he had just stepped out the shower and had not completely dried. Geez, if it wasnât for your ability to leave the room, you donât know what you wouldâve done or said.
Jungkook has always had a keen eye for your little frustrated looks, the way you donât blink, the way you wrap your hands around yourself or how you cross your legs. He knows. Itâs the details heâs aware of. No one knows you like he does.
âI like this sweater on you.â He says pointing to the green sweater youâd just gotten back from the dry cleaners.
You look down at it. âBecause itâs yours?â you raise a brow as you take a sip of your cocoa.
He shakes his head looking your body up. âno. because you look good in it.â Heâs biting his lip, then his playing with that little lip ring. Yn, hold yourself.
You choke out a chuckle. âJungkook.â Itâs a warning for him. But he doesnât take it.
âWhat? Itâs not my fault you look good in all my clothes.â gosh youâre gonna die choking on this liquid. âMakes me want to just hand over my closet to you.â Heâs coming closer to you, gosh what the fuck, he approaches but itâs the sink youâre standing in front he wants. You move. He rinses his mug, tired of the drink.
âWell, that wonât be necessary.â you say sliding away from his towering figure. Just to catch your breath, cause youâve been holding it. Jungkook laughs at the movement. Just after, youâre rinsing your cup and placing it in the cupboard. Youâre not gonna die choking on cocoa, or jungkook as a matter of fact.
âThink Iâm going to bed.â You state thinking the bedroom will be your only place of solace away from him.
âMe too. Iâm getting sleepy.â
Youâre stiff as he walks behind you. You hope youâll be able to sleep on your own tonight. Cause if jungkook just as much as touches you, youâll turn into a puddle.
Youâre quick to moving to your side and facing away from him as to not see him taking of his shirt. You know because you hear it drop.
âGoodnight.â He says turning off the light.
With all your might you mumble a goodnight to him too.
Tonight, you manage to fall asleep without cuddling. You sleep back-to-back close enough to feel the heat radiating off the other.

Jungkook wanted, so badly to go skiing after seeing an advertisement for it and saw some people do it on your way to the cabin. Youâre not one for these intense sports but since he went with you to the Lindt factory, you thought itâd only be fair to go as well. Just accompany him.
Though his wonât be sweet and rewarding.
âYou wanna go with me?â he asks teasingly and you shake your head, as soon as you process his words.â come on.â He whines.
âIâll just cheer you on from down here.â The process of skiing looks terrifying. What do you mean you had to go on those zip line things, and slide down. Not you. Nope.
âitâs not that bad. Youâll be with me.â
Though it sounds comforting it doesnât change anything. âIâll just stay here looking around and taking pictures for you.â You smile hoping it convinces him.
He chuckles, his bunny smile on show for you.â baby what are you so scared of?â the pet name comes out smoothly, catching you by surprise. But it does seat itself in and warm your heart.
âitâs just scary.â You wrap your arms around your body.
He sighs watching you closely. âFine, but can we do something as exciting, later.â He stares at you scattering your brain for what he could be referring to. âLike ice skating.â Ohâhe was thinking ice skating. Last night has your mind in a whirlwind.
âThat sounds better.â Jungkook laughs cause itâs basically the same thing, but he wonât get into it.
âOkay then.â He says walking to the register. âweâll do that later.â Itâs a promise.
Jungkook is off skiing and youâre sat in doors, still able to watch the outside activities, landscape and events thought the large window. You donât mind not going skiing, itâs not like it was on your list.
While youâre sat you decide itâd be a good time to call jimin and let him in on your trip so far.
âitâs not as awkward, anymore. It was at first. But then we just agreed to just enjoy the trip for the sake of our money.â
âThe sake of your money?â he mocks.
You choke out a laugh. âYes, for the money.â Is it? âheâs been nice and all. Itâs actually not bad.â Jimin hums as he listens, this time at least you have his attention.
Youâve shockingly enjoyed the trip more than you thought, so far. If you just keep on, the whole trip could go well and youâd be back to your normal lives. You hate the sickness you feel at the thought. The trip will end, it is gonna end and youâll be back to what you were before. Gosh.
âSounds like the trip is going a little too well.â
You scoff. âitâs not that, weâre both just chill.â
âNo fucking or kissing.â
You gasp and look around like someone couldâve heard that, but your phone is to your ear. âjimin! Oh my gosh.â The thought of it has you blushing still.
âJust sayinâ. Jungkookâs probably dying. â
You roll your eyes. Heâs fine, youâre fine.
You go on talking but soon you have to end the call. Immediately you cut the call and stuff your phone in your pocket a figure sits next to you. Male, not jungkook. You pay no mind to him. youâre on a public bench anyone can sit next to you. Heâs just in his own business. Is what you think until heâs reaching over to talk to you.
âExciting isnât it.â when he speaks you catch his foreign accent, not Swiss. Must be a tourist like you.
You awkwardly furrow your brows. âHuh?â
âSkiing.â He points.
Then it clicks that thatâs what heâs talking about.
âI presume.â You say modestly. Why the heck is he talking to you.
âPresume? Havenât you gone?â
âno.â You shake your head chuckling. âitâs not for me.â
âYou canât say that. You havenât even tried.â You internally roll your eyes. Why does he seem to care so much. âPlus, why come to Switzerland in the winter and not try skiing.â
You donât know why you carry on this conversation, but you feel like justifying yourself. âHonestly I just came for the Lindt factory.â You say shamelessly causing the stranger to laugh. he doesnât seem like a weirdo or creep, but you can never know. Heâs probably not talking to you out of pure interest. So, you try to keep your distance.
âyouâve been?â
âYeah. Yesterday.â
He hums sound interested and you know this conversation isnât ending anytime soon. âHow was it?â
You scoff internally. âIt was fun. Would recommend youâll love it.â You donât even know him; how would you know heâd like it. And to be fair youâd add that Jungkookâs presence made the place more exciting to be at. You assume he doesnât have a jungkook. Speaking of jungkook, how long is he going to be? You shouldâve just gone out on a walk instead.
He nods. âWell maybe you can show me.â You pause, okay now youâre starting to get uncomfortable. âIâm sorry I donât mean it like that. Itâs just that I came alone and it would be nice to have someone show me around.â He justifies but it doesnât make you any more comfortable. âIâd pay for your ticket if thatâs the issue.â
You chuckle. âIâm a tourist to, thereâs not much I can show you.â
âI mean youâve visited the Lindt, so you know more than me.â Gosh heâs so adamant.
You smile awkwardly wishing jungkook would just pop up.
âyouâd be better off going with someone else.â Youâre looking around as if youâve lost something. The man catches on to the action.
âAm I making you uncomfortable.â Yes. very.
âNo-â before you can finish your lie of a statement, Jungkookâs interrupts, voice anything but kind.
âYes, you are.â He says firmly, body not open for discussion.
The guy turns to look at you, then jungkook, then back at you. âDo you know him?â
Hesitantly you respond. âyeahâ you debate on what to say. âHeâs a friend.â He is isnât he?
Friend? Jungkook chuckles internally. âExcuse us.â He spits out to the man.
The guy is taken aback, but just stands. âIâm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.â You just nod and give him an awkward smile as he walks away.
You sigh relieved that heâs gone.
 You and jungkook share a glance before heâs sitting down.
âFriend?â Jungkook asks when he sits next to you.
You raise a brow. âWhat? you wanted me to lie?â
âLie?â he says even stronger. You donât know what heâs pointing to right now.
âAre you parrot?â You chuckle trying to get smart with him.
Jungkook scoffs at how you avoid his eyes. âYou couldnât have said I was your boyfriend.â
âBut youâre not.â You spit out a little quickly.
When you turn to look at him you catch how his jaw clenches. And if you werenât arguing right now, youâd think itâs the hottest thing. âBut you couldâve just lied so he leaves you alone. Now heâs probably going to try to approach you again.â
âheâs not going to.â You say naively.
Jungkook is getting frustrated with this, a little more than he should. âI know guys like that, heâs going wait for a time when Iâm not around and attack.â
âAttack?â you laugh at his word choice. Your laughter only serves to his anger. âYouâre being dramaticâ
âIâm not being dramatic, Iâm being seriousâ his statement comes out a little strong and louder than youâd like
âdonât yell.â You warn him and he apologizes. âI get you feel like you need to protect me, but relax.â
He laughs at the way you think. You thinking heâs feeling like he needs to, no, he needs to. He wants to.
âI donât feel like, I need to, I want to.â
You donât say anything, he knows heâs got you, what more could you say. Thereâs nothing. Jungkook is the protective type, has always been. Heâs shown you that many times in your relationship. And then, it made sense but now you feel like he shouldnât have to bother himself with it. Youâre not his responsibility anymore. âWe should get ready to go for lunch.â you stand walking away.
Jungkook follows after you, knowing youâre now gonna give him attitude. Your folded arms are evidence of that. Heâd normally just kiss the attitude away but for obvious reason he canât.
-
âyouâre not gonna ask how skiing was?â He tries really hard to open the air for conversation. He hates it when you argue. So, he tries to everything he can to lighten the air.
You stare down at your food. Your eyes not meeting him once. âHow was it?â you donât even sound interested which you hate because you are. You love to hear jungkook talk about things he loves.
âIt was great.â He explains not into going into much detail like he wanted to. Your energy demoralizes him. âIâm sure theyâre still open if you still want to try. He suggests but youâre quick to shaking your head.
When heâs about to say something, heâs getting interrupted. Itâs a girl, the one he met when skiing. She showed him around some routes since sheâs a local.
âYn, this is Lena. I met her whilst skiing.â He says introducing you. âLena this is yn, my friend.â
Fuck now you know how bad it stings.
âHey yn. How are you liking you trip so far?â she asks politely in an accent.
You stare her up, taking in her features. She looks about your age, and gorgeous. Why is your body so rigid. Speak. âUmm- hi-Iâm liking it well enough. Thanks.â you can hear how stiff and awkward your speech is. Gosh yn she hasnât done anything to you, chill. Smile.
Jungkook breaks into your awkward encounter. âIâm gonna be seeing you at the ice rink, right?â
He says and she smiles a little too hard. You roll your eyes. What does he mean heâs gonna see her there. Is the a you and him trip anymore? Your food doesnât look as appetizing anymore. âYeah. Iâm there often during the holidays.â
The way her voice rings in your head is jarring. Make it stop.
Soon your prayers are answered and sheâs leaving. Though unlike her your heavy heart stays.
Jungkook turns to you, still staring at her route of exit. âYou, okay?â your eyes return.
You shift your eyes to your hands. âYeah, Iâm just tired.â You stand from the table choosing to leave. âI think Iâm gonna stop by the cabin.â
Jungkook is confused. But he just takes you as you are.
âSure, let me get-â he threatens to stand.
âno. Iâll just take a train.â
He sits down. If you want to be alone itâs best if he lets you be.
When you get to the cabin, all alone. You find yourself falling into deep thought.
The pretend play you and jungkook are playing is good for you to enjoy the trip, but you wonât deny how much it only covers your true feelings. You play pretend and feel all these feelings as though youâre still together and then the trip ends and youâre sucked into being apart. And itâs him leaving all over again.
Youâre getting sick of it. Thereâs only so much pretending you can do.
Jungkook: ice skating later today?
He wants to be sure you havenât changed your mind.
Not matter your emotions you still want to enjoy the trip.
You: sure. Meet you there.

When you make it to the ice rink, your mood is still tense from lunch, which is your fault for holding on to the emotions for so long. To only sour your mood more, you spot jungkook talking to the Lena girl from lunch.
You roll your eyes and watch how she giggles a little too hard at something he says. Jungkook is a funny guy, but she shouldnât be laughing, whatever heâs said canât be that funny. This is so irritating. Why the hell is she even here.
When jungkook spots you, he has on a huge grin, but the sour look on your face has him dropping it. He thought maybe you wouldnât be still upset by now. But heâs wrong. âYn youâre here.â He says it like he wasnât expecting you and you werenât meant to be here, or thatâs how you hear it.
âWe made plans, didnât we?â your tone is nothing more than flat and irritated.
âWe did.â He turns. âYou remember Lena?â He turns to point at her, like you canât see her. Whyâs she looking at you.
Oh, could you forget her. âI do.â You jeer.
âHi.â she with her perfect smile. Youâd liked to punch it inâyour of courseâyouâd never actually so it.
âHey.â It comes out awkward and strained. Wanting to get things over with you turn to jungkook immediately. âwhatâre we doing now?â             Â
âUm. Weâll have to get the skates.â He turns to Lena for some type of consultation, you scoff.
 âYeah, this way.â she says turning to lead the way.
Jungkook turns to you, your folded arms the first thing he sees. He stands next to you. âYou get here okay?â you didnât arrive together which means you had to take public transport, which he knows you donât mind but he just wants to check on you.
âYeah.â You mutter before walking ahead of him. Do you even know where youâre going?
You want to enjoy it, but the emotions that are ahead of you block you from doing so completely. And of course, Lena is a pro at skating.
Jungkook is fairly good, for someone whoâs just taken it up. Youâd attribute that to his quick learner personality.
You on the other hand are struggling, and itâs pissing you off. You hold on to the half wall and glide. Thereâs a good amount of people around and honestly, itâs embarrassing. -like- there are even small kids better at it than you. Itâd be better if you just stopped. There are probably other activities you could do. Ice skating (or skiing) is not the end all be all of Switzerland.
Jungkook would probably enjoy skating more with Lena, seeing that they skied together earlier. You question why jungkook even ever liked you in the first place. Youâre not cool like Lena or even as adventurous, you do try but you donât feel itâs enough. Heâs better off with someone like her. Itâs good you broke up so that he can be free to do whatever. The thought stabs at your heart.
Jungkook spots you from where he is walking out. The look on your face anything but happy. Heâs swift to skating to you, making sure not to bump into anymore with how fast heâs moving. âWhere you going?â
His concerned and soft voice only intensifies your frustration. Could he not see how irritated and bad at this you are. He was probably too busy to notice. Heâs always busy.
 âYou havenât even travelled the while ring.â He chuckles awkwardly as you step off. He follows.
âI donât know, Iâm just not feeling it.â You donât even dare look at him, because you know if you do your frustration will win and youâll end up yelling or crying. And both are too embarrassing to do in public.
Jungkook scoffs. Jungkook canât tell whatâs going on with you but itâs definitely disturbing your ability to enjoy anything. He wants you to enjoy. But whatâs irritating him is how you donât want to communicate what youâre feeling to him. Heâs always made himself a safe space for you to open up. But you never take it. Ever since he m0ved youâve been distant, physically and emotionally. Itâs frustrating cause all he wants is to be close to you in all ways. âYou were not feeling skiing and now youâre not feeling this?â
Is he blaming you for not enjoying this? Itâs not your fault you feel this way. You donât even want to be feeling like this. You do want to enjoy skating, gosh you want to, so bad. But thereâs just so much youâre holding on too that pretending canât solve.
âJungkook Iâm not any good at this.â You gesture around eyes starting to sting when you watch how other people have fun while you argue. âYou just go have fun with your Leni or Lena whatever.â You act like you arenât sure of her name.
Itâs the way you say it, the force and strain in the word. The way you look to the crowd in a jittering stare looking for her that letâs jungkook know what this is all about. Did it come off like that? Sheâs just a girl he met whilst skiing, he honestly never thought that far. Never thought youâd be thinking of it.
âIs this because of her?â he questions eyebrows furrowed trying to look at your face thatâs staring down. Why the hell are this shoe laces so hard to untie. you just want to cut them off, but youâd probably have to pay for damages. Shit
Your frustration is replaced with another type of embarrassment, when jungkook is on his knee to replace his hands with yours to help you take the laces off. You just want the ground to swallow you right now. Unlike you Jungkookâs calmness is able to take the laces off. He tries to help you into your other shoes but you just brush him off. He moves.
Standing up and looking at you he asks. Voice calm like usual. âIs it?â youâd even forgotten his previous question. Do you have to answer him?
âI donât know how it would be when you two are off to the other side of the ring. Iâve barely talked to her.â Thatâs exactly the problem why the heck do you feel like this when you havenât gotten to know the girl. You barely know her intentions.
âIt is.â
You groan rolling your eyes. âIf you want help skating, I can help you. Iâm sorry that I got carried away.â Itâs probably one of the things youâre mad about. He just fucking left you like you didnât make plans to come here together. Yeah, maybe your attitude made the distance between you, but he should know how to deal with it by now. Gosh youâve been together for a good 3 years. He should know how you are.
And he does. Thatâs why he insists youâre acting like this cause of Lena. well, sheâs probably just a catalyst and thereâs something deeper that you two have to address.
You stand looking up at him, but heâs towering figure doesnât make you as intimidating as you want to feel. âYou donât have to be sorry about anything, why? Cause you always know what youâre doing.â
âYou know itâd be better if you just said it directly.â Whatever it is, because he wants to know. You want to walk past him but his hand around your wrist stops you. You look at it then at him. Heâs not smiling, but not mad. Just concerned.
âI donât--Iâm not saying anything.â You snatch it form his grip and he lets you.
Jungkookâs face scrunches up in frustration. âThatâs what you always say, then pull shit like this.â
You pause and stare at right in his--round eyes that are now, siren. âShit like what?â
âThis. Your fucking attitude.â He almost loses his tone but remembers that youâre in public, which is so fucking embarrassing. âYou never want to talk about things.â He looks around for any watching eyes.
You just glare at him. Maybe you donât like expressing yourself to him anymore. Youâve noticed it too. It had been hard for you to express yourself to him over a call, and sometimes shitty network. There had been days where you wanted to cry on his shoulders but only had the screen to rely on, so guess what you did. Nothing. You didnât cry, you didnât tell him anything. Youâd just cry on your pillow after the call ends. âMaybe I donât cause I know you wonât listen.â
Thatâs a hit to his ego. To him as a person.
âThatâs bullshit and you know it. I always listen to you.â The blank look on your face has him questioning himself. âof course, Iâm not perfect.â
You chuckle bitterly.
âJust go off to your little girlfriend.â And there it is, a confirmation of what he already knew.
You start walking to the entrance. And he follows. Shoes on. Heâs not going to be able to skate with the heaviness in his heart. Heâd end up sinking into the ice, which doesnât sound so bad right now. âCome on.â He swiftly moves to standing Infront of you. He blocks you from moving and you just give up and just decide to look at his jaw, not wanting to look directly at him. Which was not a good idea, cause of how he clenches it. You look up into his eyes. âyouâre jealous?â
âWho?â heâs a parrot and now youâre an owl, he wants to say but finds it inappropriate for your mood.
âYou are so jealous.â
âIâm no-â
âdonât lie to me.â You try to push at his chest for him to move out of your way, but your plan backfires giving him leeway to hold your hand firmly to his chest. Hard as a rock even through heâs sweater. âTell me why youâre jealous.â
Instead of answering him directly you try to change the topic. You swear you can feel his heart beat through his sweater.
âDonât act like I couldnât see you jealous too when that guy approached me.â You try to one-up.
âI was jealous.â His confession has you wanting you dig a hole and hide yourself. Itâs so easy for him to say, you werenât even enjoying your conversation with that guy. âDifference with me is that I can say it.â
Shit. Shit. What do you say now. Get angrier, that always works, well not really.
âWhatever. Iâm not jealous.â You look away from him. Are you really doing this in public. Jungkook doesnât look like he gives a fuck right now, he just wants an answer. One which heâs not going to get.
âTell me what youâre so jealous about?â his voice lowers
âHow many times do I have to say Iâm not jealous.â Till you canât deny it anymore, the thought runs through Jungkookâs mind. âJust go have your fun.â You finally decide youâre tired of feeling his heart beat perfectly.
âyouâre so ridiculous yâknow.â He watches you move slight away, anger not faltering one bit. Youâre determined to being upset. âcanât we just talk about this. It seems to be bothering you.â
It is. Itâs fucking gnawing at your heart, your lungs, your mind.
âNothingâs bothering me, Iâm fine.â You breathe in, relaxing and calming down just a bit. âI just donât want to be out there all on my own, while youâre having fun with some else.â Jungkook licks his lip. He doesnât have anything else to say. What he has to say canât be said here or whilst youâre unable to hear.
âIâm going home.â You pass by him and he doesnât bother turning to watch you walk out.
âKorea?â itâs possible for you to want to leave. And the thought causes him to bite down hard on his bottom lip. Cause if you leave on these terms, nothingâs gonna change and heâd never get another chance. Youâd avoid him like the plague.
âNo, the cabin.â You state and heâs relieved. âHave fun.â
âEverything okay?â jungkook is startled by Lenaâs voice who walked around to find him after she noticed he was gone.
âYeah.â You force a smile. âIâll just get going.â He informs her. He already has his stuff so thereâs no need for him to go back inside. âThanks for getting us in, though we didnât even stay long.â
âNo problem. It was fun, wish I got to talk to her.â
âYeah, she isnât normally like that.â Cause you arenât.
âI understand.â

You donât immediately go to the cabin. Instead, you go to the sauna you had been eyeing. It could probably be the only way to relax you. The sweat dripping down will mask the real tears falling down your face. Youâre glad youâre alone right now.
You have your head leaned back thinking about what had just previously happened. The thoughts not wanting to leave you.
You hear the door open but you donât bother looking, youâve got a lot to think about. âhey stranger..â the familiar voice speaks just as shocked. You sharply open your eyes. Wondering if itâs you heâs speaking to but youâre just the two of you in here.
Youâre just the two of you.
âdidnât expect to find you here.â He says setting himself down just in front of you and you looking at him oddly. Do you have bad luck?
âhmmâ you chuckle awkwardly. You make a plan to gradually scoot yourself to the door. Being with him here does make you uncomfortable but you try to stay to enjoy whatâs left of your time. You expect silence but the man doesnât see on the same level. âWent to the Lindt factory like you said. Was honestly the best of everything.â
âIâm glad you liked it.â you say like youâre a worker at the factory or care.
âIt wouldâve been better if you came too.â
You awkwardly chuckle and finally decide to sit up. You came here to think and relax but this guy couldnât be more of a bother. âIâm sure I wouldâve just made it worse.â
He chuckles and smiles your way. A smile you do not reciprocate âI doubt.â
âIs your friend around?â Now you should fucking leave.
âMm?â you ask like you didnât hear. Fucking sirens are blaring. Heâs not giving off Iâm gonna leap at your vibe. Itâs more of his inability to give up that bugs you. âOh- ahh yeah. Heâs gonna be here.â
He turns to look at the door like Jungkookâs about to walk through the door, but he doesnât. gosh you wish he would. âisnât it hard to have male friends like him.â You look at him brows furrowed, confused. You wait for him to elaborate and heâs quick to it. âProtective.â He says.
âhow?â
âmakes it hard for you to live your live and get to know people.â You laugh. itâs not like jungkook has his hands on you and pulling you away from people who want to talk to you. Heâs actually for it but he just has a good discernment of creeps. As you sit here you reflect on his words from before when you initially met the guy. Gosh you should really start listening to jungkook. Makes you realize how right he isâsometimes--
âno.â your tone is sharp that the soft one youâd been giving him.
He shakes his head. He lifts his hands in defence saying, âI think heâs doing too much.â Now youâre getting upset, visibly so, which is not lost to the man. Who the fuck does he thinks he is. Heâs the one doing too much, âIâm not some weirdo, I promise.â He hasnât shown any signs of it yet, but you donât give a fuck and youâre not gonna wait around for him to show it.
âI think youâre doing too much.â You snare abruptly standing up. He can tell the irritation on your face and is about to defend himself but youâre quick to cutting in. youâre not about to have it.
âI donât know how your long your trip is but if you see me around, please donât speak to me.â
âWait.â You donât.
Sauna time done you decide to go back to the cabin, feeling anything but relaxed. Daylight already lost.
Today has honestly knocked you out, as though youâve done anything energy straining. Itâs more of an emotional strain. When you walk in jungkook isnât anywhere to be seen. So, you just assume he never got back. Makes you wonder where the hell he is and why he didnât tell you, but youâre in no place to convict him cause you never informed him of your sauna endeavours as well. Youâre both grown adults and can move around Switzerland without the otherâbutâwhy do you feel entitled to know where he is. You lost those privileges when you broke up and now when you left him at the rink.
Maybe a steamy shower will do what the sauna didnât finish cause of you interruption. After that you decide to end your night early, youâve got nothing to do after all.
you toss and turn in bed, barely able to get a linear sleeping time. Everything just feels so weird and off. Even worse than in the beginning. Itâs all a different type of awkward, which you hate. Jungkook isnât sleeping next to you which prompts you to checking the time.
1:39am your phone tells you.
Where the hell is he, youâre starting to get scared. Youâre not worried about his safety cause jungkook is very capable in that sector, --well unless he got shotâshot? Â Why are thinking of that. Whoâd fucking shot him, let alone in Switzerland. Heâs never been in any trouble with the law or anyone. Youâre getting paranoid, if you donât see jungkook in the flesh, well and not wounded, youâre gonna lose your mind.
Putting on the sweater that has been a staple and carried you through the trip you walk out the bedroom to the open floor living room. you sigh when you donât spot jungkook. You wonât be able to go back to sleep even if you wanted to. Cause you donât feel like it and are losing your mind. As youâre standing in the living room like an anxiety ridden mom waiting for their teenager child at midnight, you hear it. Itâs wood chopping sounds. Harsh and fast. You do have some cabins around you so it could be your neighboursâbut no--the sound is closer to yours, like itâs just outside. So, you curiously walk to the door which would lead you closer to the sound. Maybe you arenât as afraid cause you assume itâs jungkook. And it is.
You relax when you spot his figure well and healthy.
He doesnât notice as you stand watching him. bottom lip chewed down on. Why the hell is he chopping wood at 1 in the morning.
You want to say something. You need to. Maybe apologize about what happened at the rink, you have a fair share in the argument. Since waking up or maybe after the sauna you realized how childish your behaviour was. You ruined the moment. When you couldâve just asked jungkook to help you and he wouldâve been there, hadnât you chosen to give into your irritation. Irritation of seeing him with a woman. There you said it.
His muscles flex as he moves to drop the axe down on the wood.
This is not what you want for you and jungkook. Arguing and not able to talk or share air. Itâs not what you want. Even if things do officially end, youâd want to end it on calm and friendlier terms.
As you watch him you notice how his jaw tightens. Heâs not just chopping wood. You start to worry for him when his movements grow harsher, of the larger chunk of wood.
âWhat did the wood do to you?â you try to be neutral.
He didnât notice you behind him. So, heâs startled by the sound of your voice. Turning to look at you holding yourself in the door way, he chooses to take a break. He got so carried away he forgot he was cutting wood for the fire place and had cut too much. He drops the axe into snow. âDitched me at the ice rink.â He says going to pick up some pieces of wood to bring inside.
Fuck you feel so bad. You stay silent watching him until heâs brought all the wood in and finally closing the door. Which allows for the warmth from the now blazing fire to fill the house. Now in warmer climate, jungkook takes off his large sweater and you drop your arms that were still wrapped around you.
âIâm sorry about that.â You mumble softly. He stands at the sink, you assume to make himself something warm.
âitâs okay, itâs not like I went all the way to stay in touch with some girl so she could get meâus--a good deal at the ice rink. Then I take you there and you ditch the thing entirely.â
You do feel horrible about to, but his tone irritates you causing you to respond as just that. Which you immediately regret.
âI left you with her, werenât you happy with that.â You have an interesting way of saying things that bother you.
Jungkook pauses his actions and stares at you with a seriously confused face. He scoffs. Youâre not making sense. âYou know thatâs not what I wanted.â He returns to his mug. âI wanted to spend it with you.â His voices calms.
Fuck. Uhm what do you say. You should probably say youâre sorry. âIâm sorry.â
Jungkook just listening. He just doesnât understand, he wishes you could just be straight forward. Frustrated and tired of hiding behind a task, he drops the cup to give you, his attention.
âDid I say something wrong?â you stand where you are but jungkook moves. To you. You panic but he doesnât walk closer than a few feet from you. You donât know how youâd handle yourself if he came any closer. At the rink you almost died. âAt the rink?â he clarifies like youâre not fully aware. He just wants to make sure that youâre on the same page. Cause you can think of other times he might have feared heâd said something wrong. Â âI honestly shouldnât even have started talking to her.â He rubs a hand over his face.
Jungkook has never been malicious to you in your friendship before or relationship. Or even now. Heâs been cordial. Heâs the only man whoâs treated so well and calmingly. Of course he has his imperfections, you both do. But it doesnât take from how well heâs treated you. He never crosses a line.
âitâs not even that.â Youâre looking off to the side and holding yourself again,
Gosh, heâs really holding himself right now. He bites his lower lip and clenches his jaw to hold himself back from just walking up to you and making you look him in the eyes. âThen whatâs wrong. Please talk to me.â He pleads.
âI donât know,â you whisper still looking beyond him, your voice is barely audible.
Heâs begging, really for you to just tell him something. âPlease donât say that.â He responds, his tone a mix of frustration and pleading. He steps closer just a few centimetres away, if you unfolded your arms youâd probably bump into his chest.
âI donât-â you start but your voice cuts you off, âitâs the way you-â you arenât able to finish. What are you going to do with yourself. This is embarrassing, you can barely form or organize your thoughts and your mouth can barely move to speak. Youâre not even going to talk about how hard it is for you to look him in the eyes. You just settle with staring at his other supporting features. His hair, his ears (that are red from what you assume is frustrationâitâs not--), his eyebrows and then you skip to look at his nose--
âwas it me talking to that girl?â
âI donât wanna talk about it.â You push away slightly.
âBut we have--you know what--I want to.â He moves to block your action of walking away. You thought you were strong enough. You thought youâd manage to talk about this. But you canât. not when it makes you want to cry. Â âI want to talk about it.â His voice is stern but not harsh. Itâs just strong enough to let you know heâs not letting this go. Itâs funny how something so insignificant can cause you to be in this situation. Forced to express and confront your emotions, the oneâs youâve been running from since the trip began, the oneâs you told yourselves youâd pretend didnât exist. You fooled yourselves by dodging the topic.
Now youâre here. âWhile weâre at it we can talk about why you broke up with me.â Heâs not asking if you can talk about it, heâs telling you it has to be talked about and heâs not gonna let it go by. Not this time.
At his words, all your emotions unite to form a single unit of defence. âme? you agreed too.â You point at him face scowling.
âI only did cause itâs what you wanted, and I didnât want to hold you back.â
You stare confused. âHold me back from what?â what the fuck does he think youâve been doing. You hope he doesnât think youâve been out and about since breaking up, thatâs been the last thing on your mind.
âFrom living the life, you wanted to, without me.â His upset at the thought leading his voice to come out a little passive aggressive.
He does think that, you can see it. âWithout you? I donât want that.â You state. âBut how can I live a life with you when youâre miles away, always busy. And can barely visit.â You just talk. Finally, your gears are moving. But the problem is that so are the tears. âYou moving away is you choosing to live without me too.â You choke on your words a little. âEven I didnât want to tie you to me or hold you back from your dreams thatâs why I tried to li- live with it, but it got so unbearable kook. I couldnât take it. it felt like I was alone. In fact, I was alone.â
Jungkook feels sick hearing that you felt alone.
âYou know I did try.â His voice is soft, moving himself into your circle. You let him. He canât help himself but cup your cheek. The action feels comforting, almost relieving. At least heâs here and youâre not talking over the phone, makes it much easier for you to sink into his touch.
You hold the wrist thatâs caressing your cheek. Gosh you want to keep his touch here forever. âI know thatâs what hurts more you tried but it still wasnât enough. I really did want it to work. I still do.â On your last sentence you look up at him and heâs already staring at you, the thump of his other hand coming swiftly to wipe your stray tears. You sniffle. âCause honestly Iâve missed you kook.â You feel comforted playing with the end of his sweater. Â âSo much. I miss how we were before you moved. When it was easier for us to be together.â your fingers take a journey from the bottom of his sweater to the neck.
Your palms lay flat on his chest and his hands move to softly hold your wrist, not to move you away but you keep there.
âI know we said weâd pretend. A-and I thought I could. But I canât kook.â On cue with his name, you look up at him. âfuck- I never knew how much I hate seeing you talk to otherâ" you canât finish your sentence, but itâs okay cause heâs finished for you in his mind. âIâm sorry for attitude.â
He glides his hands from your wrists down your arms until they are both on your waist. âIâm sorry too.â Heâs pulling you closer, your hands still on his chest, but now for stability. âIâm so sorry I was too distracted for you. You didnât deserve that. You donât serve that.â Heâs caressing your back. âokay?â you have to answer but you can only bring yourself to nodding. All heâs ever wanted was to know. Know what was wrong and how he could fix it.
âIâve missed you too.â He smiles lightly bringing his nose to brush against yours. The action has you tilting your head upwards. His lips itch to touch yours, but they donât they just hover, he still has more to say. And he wants to say it close enough for you to feel it. âIf only you knew how I dreaded every morning and realized you werenât next to me. Every time I just wanted to fly back home.â
âSo, what stopped you.â Youâre looking at his lips. his rosy and moist lips from how hard heâs been biting and licking on that. You wanna do that. You wanna kiss him, wanna be the only biting down on his lips. Â you wanna do a lot of things right now. You wanna run your hands through his hair remind yourself of its texture, you wanna lift that sweater off, that holds his cologne so well, the earthy lavender scent, that crawls its way through your system. You wanna take that sweater off him, --feel, seeâjust how much that gym membership as proved itself valuable. You know you wonât be disappointed, jungkook loves the fucking gym.
âI donât even know. But all I know is that itâs not gonna stop me anymore.â Him nudging his nose closer has you tilting your head to meet his lips. the air between you feels heavy. The feeling pulling your lips to meet. And when the do, itâs fervent. His kiss is urgent but slow, not wanting to be apart from you for a second.
 Your bodies are hooked together as Jungkook is moving you back into a wall. The kiss intensifies when he leans your head back with his hand around your neck. Youâre gripping onto his sweater for support and breathing him in for life.
Jungkook clings onto your lips for life too, even if he needs to breath he doesnât stop. You moaning into his mouth will suffice. He doesnât know where to keep his hands. Should he use them to tilt your head back to deepen the kiss, (if he goes any deeper heâs gonna sink.) whilst he uses the other to pull you leg up by your thighs, his grip surely leaving crescent moons as decorations. He doesnât know what to do with them. For the moment he uses them to pull he sweater over his head. Youâve been clawing at it to come off.
Now shirtless you can feel his skin for what you remember it to be silky-smooth. So delicate that you fear leaving scratch marks on him, but jungkook encourages it, he begs you to do it. Your hands roam his body, first his large back, muscles flexed, then down his firm chest then down to his defined midsection. âWhat am I to do with all this.â You say breathless.
âYou tell me. Itâs all yours.â Your lips are meeting again. Tongues tagging at each other. For some reason the rich, sweet and completely irresistible taste of chocolate lingers on your lips, but he loves it and is drinking it up.
Jungkook finds that his hands are better at gripping your thigh and lifting it to wrap around his waist. His core moves into you and you feel how hard he is against you. Youâre thankful for his thin pajama pants.
Your hands pull at the root of his hair, though itâs shorter you make it work, making him groan into your mouth. You both canât fucking breath at this point, which is the only reason youâre pulling away. Your heavy breaths brushing against each other.
âjungk-â youâre moaning for him to take you to bed but heâs steps ahead of you. Your feet donât have to fret cause heâs lifting you by the thighs to lay you on the edge of the bed.
You lay back on the bed but legs on his shoulder, heâs kneeling between your legs. Your pants are still on but not for long. In a swift motion youâre left in your plain black panties. The ones with the little bow. He chuckles at the detail. When you see what heâs laughing at you get self conscious. Jungkook looks up at you confused why youâre closing your legs.
âI didnât know weâd be in this position, so these are the one I brought.â You try to explain yourself cheeks blushing red. He doesnât know why youâre so insecure about the detail. He loves them.
For a quick kiss heâs on his feet hovering over you. âitâs okay, I like my gifts wrapped in bows.â He smirks and the comment has you calling out his name in shock. peck. Heâs back on his knees staring at your core. The bow is a detail heâll miss but heâd gotta take them off. Fuck is all he can think when your cunt is right in front of him, wet. Is this where heâs meant to die, right in your cunt from suffocation cause he wonât be able to detach himself from you.
Your legs are planted on his shoulder, your ass just at the edge of the bed. When he first swipes his tongue through your folds, it takes you by surprise. Gosh you missed him being right there.
âfuckâ you whimper the sound not being able to be masked. Your slick, probably mixed with his saliva, drips down your cunt, down his chin. His nose is so deep in it that some of your juices run up his nose. Is this how fucking cocaine sniffers feel? Â He canât wait till his cock is buried snuggly it. He sniffs in, on purpose this time, takin git once more. You grind on his face making him suck harder at your clit. Youâre getting dizzy and gripping hard at the sheets. His nails dig into your thighs harshly, the pain causing pleasure.
Everything is so intense you canât tell apart your orgasm. Fuck you canât be coming this fast from just his tongue. Shit. âJungkook. Donât stopâ You whine the intense feeling approaching quick, your walls tightening and fluttering around his tongue. Jungkookâs so carried away he only realizes youâre coming when your legs are shaking. He drinks everything that leaves and itâs only when youâre pulling his head back from overstimulation that he realizes he should take a breath. Heâs starved can you blame him?
âyouâre so gorgeous baby.â he says peppering kisses on your thighs. âWanna do that again for me.â Heâd absolutely would eat you out for a second time in a row. And youâd love that but you just want to feel him.
Youâre moving up the bed and heâs hovering over you kissing your jaw. Your palms meet his ass in a teasing smack.
âMissed this ass.â You smile under him. jungkook just chuckles. you want to add on but his finger stuffing your tight cunt has you silent, gasping for air.
Jungkook smiles down at your pleasure strained face. âmm? not so talkative now?â
He thinks heâs got you. Then you slide down your hand down his abs, he knows where your hand travels and though itâll destroy his ego, he lets you do it. âso bigâ you bite your bottom lip as you start stroking him, using your own juices as lubricate. Heâs walls are falling. Your hand wrapped around him, has him burying his moans in the croak of your neck.
Itâs a competition huh? he loves those second and fucking your cunt first.
Youâre stroking him in his pants and heâs pumping his fingers in your cunt. Heâs kissing you to hide his moans. Itâs a fucking competition and heâs losing. He canât lose. His hand leaves your cunt to grab at your wrist. You stop. He pulls you away from him. if you went on any longer, heâd be done for and the night wouldnât end the way he wants. He hasnât been touched in a year, unless itâs talking about those times you sexted, but it doesnât count. It feels different when itâs your hands.
âwhyâd you do that?â you whine.
âIf you did that you wouldnât have gotten the orgasms I have left for you.â You donât respond. you wonât argue, you do want them.
His fingers are back to pumping and even sooner than before your climax approaches. He wishes he could count just how much you flutter around his finger but heâs too busy looking at your face, pleasure written all over it. and its pride that fills him, knowing heâs the one giving it to you.
Jungkook moves away and you watch how he licks his fingers clean. The way he smiles at you after, is disgustingly hot.
âTake off your pants.â You tell him.
âYou take off your shirt.â He reciprocates, youâd forgotten youâd even been wearing anything.
Jungkook is spoiled by the sight before him, your chest sprawled out for him to taste. So, he leans down and wraps his tongue around a nipple. His hand lost at the other side. You love all the foreplay, really, but you want him. youâve been thinking about it for forever.
âJungkook.â You call. He hums saying you have his attention. âI want you.â
Thereâs nothing more he wants.
âWant you too baby.â He says grabbing his cock and aligning it with your entrance. Then he remembers.
âfuckâ he whispers. You sit up and wander what has him holding back.
âwhat?â
âI donât have a condom.â He knows he doesnât have one, itâd be weird, itâs not like he was coming on this trip expecting to fuck you.
âWhy?â he stares at you confused.
âI didnât expect fucking to be on the itinerary.â
Oh yeah, you laugh at himself.
âDo you?â
âNope. Why would I have them.â He just shrugs his shoulders.
Heâs gonna lose it. âAre you on the pill?â itâs his only option.
Thatâs when you shake your head. âGot off when we broke up.â
Okay so what is he gonna do, his cock hard and your cunt right in front of him.
âJungkook come on you can pull out.â You whine pulling him forward.
She shakes his head. âgod no. I almost lost my mind from your hand. Itâd lose it in your pussy.â You smile, you shouldnât be laughing cause you wonât be able to fuck. But you just canât help but smile at the fact that he almost lost himself just from your hand. Youâve got no clue on what to do. You really need to fuck him.
âWait--â he looks at you. âThis is a loverâs cabin.â You say but he waits for you to elaborate and make sense.
âwouldnât they have condoms in the cupboard or something.â He didnât think of that.
So, as you stand you walk over to the cupboard roughly open it almost tipping it over. âBingo!â you celebrate pulling out a long string of condoms. Your saving grace.
You carefully pull out one and toss it to jungkook.
âRelax arenât they the oneâs you usually use,â you say when you see the look on his face. They do look like theyâve just been purchased and placed. Heâs so thankful right now. He leans against the head board and you watch how he gracefully he strokes himself and slips it on, your mouth drools but youâre too needy. Youâll do that another day.
âCome ride cow girl.â He welcomes you when heâs all done. You stretch your legs over him, centering yourself. His hands are quick to spread across your ass, landing a light tap.
He helps you centre himself at your entrance. His brows scrunch together when he feels your tight warmth slide down him. he definitely isnât going to last long, maybe heâll hold on till you come but after that is not promised.
His hand loosely holds at your throat, just enough to tilt it back slightly and leave wet kisses and marks everywhere on your skin.
You sliding up and down him feels great but he couldnât help himself but move his fingers to touch your clit. In pure pleasure youâre wrapping your arms around him and kissing him. you love this position, how he nudges at your back, how intimate it feels, the way youâre so close after being so far away. The cold is barely in mind. Jungkook canât express how much heâs missed you.
You love it.
But what you love more is how he pulls at your hair, just softly. âLove fucking my cock huh?â he asks but youâre unable to answer his hips jutting up into you with great speed. Jungkook could get carried away with the way your boob bounce but he chooses to say focus. âYou like that huh?â he smirks but your eyes are closed, the pleasure of his intense strokes taking you out.
âYeah, love fucking you kook.â You whimper out.
Heâs thrusting harder and youâre moaning louder. âyou look so pretty taking me baby. Wanna fuck you forever.â
You wish you.
Your body melts into his as youâre coming again, jungkook fucking into you for his own high which follows after yours. When he catches his breath, heâs laying you down and beside you just after throwing the filled condom.
âIâm gonna get the bath started.â He says planting a quick kiss on your shoulder.
Youâre too drained to stand so when heâs back to come get you youâre dozing off. âcome on baby Iâve got to get you cleaned up.â
You groan. âThen after a I can make you cocoa.â
âIâm so tired kook.â You whine.
âI knowww.â he coos. Next thing you know heâs lifting you, bridal style. âitâs okay Iâve got you.â

âHmm. Donât move.â Jungkook whines when you threaten to stand and start your day. You two have already slept in because of your late-night endeavours.
âI have to kook. We have so much for our day.â
âUgh! Fine. But first give me your hand.â He demands the action has you confused but you give it to him. when he has it, heâs giving you a billion kisses. âI love you.â He doesnât think itâs too soon causeâwell he doesnât know it just felt right to say.
âI love you too now let me go.â He makes sure not to unhand you until you say it more âmeaningfullyâ according to him.
---
You and jungkook decided to retry ice skating (you were hell bent on not going skiing.)
As youâre skating jungkook slides to the half wall, after telling you he has to take a call. You shoo him away after telling youâll be fine alone (for the meantime).
âAny news?â jungkook was nervous when he got the call from Namjoon. This is a very important call from him, it determines what the hell heâs gonna choose. Quit or get transferred.
âYeah. itâs been approved.â Jungkook is still for a moment.
âSeriously?â it almost feels like a dream.
âYeah, had to do a lot of convincing but they agreed.â Heâs so grateful for Namjoon. Heâs gonna miss him. Jungkook looks over to you, gliding not great but better, and youâre smiling this time. So, heâs happy. Youâre happy.
âThank you, man,â
Namjoon smiles, he knows how much this means. âNo problem.â The call cuts.
This just seals a lot âkook look out.â He pockets his phone and as heâs turning to you, you slam into him. You havenât gotten to the knowing how to stop just yet. Maybe next time.
âYou okay, baby.â He says holding onto you by your waist
You let out a dramatic breath that has him smiling. âYeah, but Iâm getting kinda tired.â You say out of breath and letting your weight fall into his arms.
âIâm getting hungry too.â Youâve spent a good amount of time ice skating so you decide to leave it for next time.
--
âwhatâs the plan for tonight.â He asks as you eat.
âHmm. For the first time I donât know.â You both laugh. âWe could go out for dinnerâohhh the hot tub--.â You forgot about it cause none of you ever wanted to use it, honestly you didnât even expect the place to have a hot tub.
âI like the sound of that.â

The steam of the hot tub hovers lazily on the surface of the water. The steam curls around jungkook as his gaze locks on you. Body dry cause you havenât gotten in yet. You walk onto the deck, the dim but still bright enough lights radiant off your skin, as though the sun has come to pay him a visit at night.
His breath is caught.
The bikini hugs you in all the ways that made his thoughts falter, the curves of your body illuminated by the soft glow of the light. He swallows hard, his mouth dry despite being surround by water. You make him weak, so much that he looks only at you, even though your attention is else were. You try to find a place to hook your towels.
And then you turn around to smile at him in victory of finding a place to hang them. He nods acknowledging but no paying attention.
He leans back slightly, the water lapping at his shoulders as his eyes roam you, mesmerized. Thereâs some thing unworldly about you, something he canât quite put into words. It wasnât just the way you looked, that made him trip for you. It was the way you carried yourself, the way your body swayed as you moved closer to him.
His arms immediately reach out to envelope you. âEnjoying the view?â you tease, your voice relaxing into the tub and his warmth.
The chuckle he releases is low, âyou know I am.â
Your giggle like a melody. You wrap your arms around him and he loses his stability for a second before regaining it. âcareful.â He murmurs to you, a slow smile spreading across his face. âI might drown.â
âI wouldnât want that.â you peck his lips.
You relax for a while just taking in the night and each other presence.
Jungkook has been meaning to ask, the question eating at his mind. Â âDo you want to go back to Korea with me?â it sounds like a dumb question, you came together so you will be leaving together.
But the double meaning lies within and heâs desperate to know your answer.
âWhat are you saying?â you coo at him. âArenât we already going back together.â Youâre talking about the tangible stuff, the tickets, the plane, the flying, even the landing and going home. But he doesnât mean that.
After pecking your shoulder water sticking to his lips, he explains. âI donât mean physically.â
You stare down at him eyes softening. âkookâ you realize the seriousness of his question. And for a second jungkook senses scepticism. So, he panics.
âIf itâs bout my job, Iâm working on it.â His voice is quick.
That was a fear of yours, even more that he wouldnât want to move. Jungkook has thought about it, the move was a rush decision he never spoke to anyone about it to ask their opinion or whatever. And honestly the move didnât bring him much joy, besides the opportunity to adventure Jeju. But apart from that he was away from his family, his friends and you. Everything that made his life.
âSeriously?â you say more shocked than anything else.
âYeah, Namjoon called me. My transfer got approved.â
 You gasp the water swashing from your movement. âdonât lie to meâ
He laughs. âIâm not.â
âI thought you said getting it approved is hard.â Youâre finding this so hard to believe.
âIt is, I guess I got lucky.â
You squeal moving in to hug him.
âWhen did you start all this.â Itâs along process so he had to start early.
âHonestly before we broke up. I wanted to surprise you if it got approved. But then-â you shush him from going on further.
âSo, what would have you done if it didnât get approved.â Your tone drops.
Jungkook sighs looking around in thought. âwouldâve fucking quit.â itâs funny how easy the idea is for him, former him would have struggled with the question. âIâm tired of being so far from you.â
âSame.â He places a longer and soft kiss on your lips.
âSo, you wanna go back with me?â His voice is playful, as he looks up at you through wet lashes.
âMhm.â You smile, leaning slightly closer to him, your fingertips tracing lazy circles on his shoulder. âI wanna go everywhere with you.â
The words hang in the air for a moment, warm and intimate, as his lips lifts into a small, boyish grin. âWe can arrange that.â
Jungkook doesnât mind being patched to your side like a little purse dog. In fact, the way he leans into you now, his hand slipping around your waist as if it were second nature, says heâd prefer it. His thumb grazes your hip absentmindedly, a small gesture that feels both possessive and endearing.

âIâm gonna miss it.â you say leaning into Jungkook's shoulder with a pout. You wait patiently for your flight. âFeels like we just started the trip.â
Jungkook reaches over to cup your hand in his. He then interlocks your fingers and brings it to his lips; the action causes you to smile softly. He really likes to do that. Itâd never been a trait of his before, so youâre intrigued, to why he does it all of a sudden. âWe can come back one day. together.â
âYeah together.â You reassure. You like this. Like having him with you.

[3 months later]
âJimin if youâre gonna wear that to my fucking wedding youâre not coming.â You announce to a jimin too focused on the light blue suit heâs in. in the mirror you can spot his cheeky grin. Heâs not gonna wear a freaking light blue suit, itâs not on the colour scheme, plus he doesnât like how it makes him look.
He turns to look at jungkook whoâs standing on his own pedestal looking into the mirror. Touching and teasing at the suit. âJungkook youâre not gonna let her do that right?.â Jungkook just shrugs his shoulders at jimin. Heâs not pleased with the answer. He knew the dude was down bad, but not this down bad. âBro!â
âsheâs the boss.â Jungkook raises his hands in surrender and you smirk in your seat.
âCome on manâŚstandup.â he fists at Jungkook who just laughs. As Jimin is stepping out to get out of the suit (he stayed so long in it you thought he might actually want to wear it.) and get changed, you swat him with a magazine and heâs quick to running out not wanting you to land another hit.
Now alone in the dressing room you walk up to jungkook. You lean your chin on his shoulder, your hands finding there way to his chest. He welcomes them with his own. âYou look so handsome.â Your voices hums sweetly by his ear. Jungkook lifts up both of your hands to place soft and warm kisses on them. The action has you blushing red. The ring on your finger and indication of why he liked to do it before. Plus, now, he just enjoys it., it makes you blush and he likes that.
âMhm.â He hums against your wrists. âYou like it?â
âI love it.â You take a hundredth glance at a preview of what he might wear at your wedding. If he chooses itâs what he wants. You love the cut on him. the colour complimenting his skin, and the style shows off his physique, not too much, but not too little. But all the buttons on the vest and shirt are gonna give you some trouble undoing.
Jungkook stares at you completely enamoured at the way youâre looking at it. You should be looking at him like that. âI think you might love the suit more than me.â He turns abruptly causing you to fall into his chest. He catches and keeps you stable with his firm hand on your lower back.
You place one hand on his chest and the other around his neck, bringing you much closer. âI might just.â Your lips could meet easily with how close you are. But you donât move them and jungkook pouts at how you deny him the opportunity.
âIâm gonna take it off, not gonna let you love it more.â He nudges his nose with yours.
âTake it off.â
âJeon Yn! I forgot how freaky you are.â You roll your eyes at how heâs already given you his last name, you like the sound of it though. Reminds you of how real this is, youâre not dreaming.
Trying to tease him more you move by his ear to whisper, âNot here though.â
Jungkook is biting his lower lip. âWe should hurry then.â he moves to kiss your shoulder, your off-the-shoulder top giving him leeway to kiss your skin directly. He peppers more kisses from your shoulder to your neck before  you get carried away youâre prompting for him to turn around. He does, though reluctantly.
You giggle.
âDo you like it though?â your voice turns serious, as much as you like it and how you just want to see him in it the whole day. If he likes it matters.
âYeah, it makes me look soâŚhusband.â He smiles boyishly as he winks at you in the mirror.
âOh-gosh.â You push yourself away from him to get back to your seat. Youâre not gonna be here all day.
He turns to face you. Still standing on the pedestal. âWhen do I get to see you in your dressâ His teeth play with his lip ring as he asks curiously. The thought of you in the gown exciting him.
âWhen I walk down the aisle.â You stare blankly, no room for discussion. And he doesnât, youâve been quite stern about him not seeing you in any bridal wear until the wedding. Which he doesnât mind, he can wait.
âMake sure itâs a ball gown so that I can slip under and hide.â He gestures his hands to elaborate what he means.
You shake your head. Itâs not your style, maybe when you were a child, but youâve grown. âIâm not wearing a ball gown.â
Ditching the jacket, he places it next to you and stands closing your legs between his. He lowers himself so your nose is touching his. His arms trap you between him and the couch. You didnât think he was not gonna get that kiss right? He kisses you softly, then again. Then a little harder the third time, this one lasting seconds longer. You hold on his waist for stability. He kisses you once more just for the sake.
âIâm very sure youâll look divine in whatever you pick, baby.â

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: so that's that. I hope I've fixed your broken heart from I-redo. there are scenes that i couldn't fit in. Yes of course there are other activities they did, but if i wrote it all it would be boring and too long and would probably be pushed to next month. i wish i could've written more fluff but idk.
i will allow for story drabble request if you guys want that.
but yeah thanks, for reading, liking and commenting. much love. wishing you a happy new year.
story idea copyright of keen-li, 30.12.24
#fanfic#jungkook x reader#jeon jungguk#jungkook x y/n#jungkook#bts#jeon jungkook#jungkook au#jungkook fanfic#keen li#keenli updates#kpop fanfic#Namjoon#jungkook scenarios#bts jungkook#jungkook bts#jungkook angst#jungkook imagine#bangtan#jungkook smut#jeongguk smut#jeongguk#jeon jeongguk#jeongguk x reader#jeongguk fic#Fic:Merry!Ex-mas
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Random astrology observations.

(My personal observations what I think)
â Taurus Moons be like Comfort > everything else.
â A Gemini Has 25 group chats but canât reply to a single text you sent two weeks ago.
â Venus in Sagittarius Can love you from afar but donât suffocate them or theyâre gone.
â one think I noticed that Scorpio Sun with Sagittarius Venus is like they'll cling to you when they're feeling spicy but when that's over "who are you?"
â Never met a Pisces who doesn't have a issue with sleep. Either sleeps all day and night or no sleep at night. wakes up at 2 or 3 pm.
â Moon in Scorpio craves deep emotional (and physical) intimacy. Casual flings leave them feeling empty but theyâll never admit it.
âYou think you had the worse break up. Until your ex and you have 8th house synastry. And if you survived that? My strong babe you can do anything in life.
â by the way 8th house synastry reminds me of bad romance - lady gaga.
â My 8th house is in Taurus and I realized I can't be friends with a Taurus male. It's either we're a love/hate couple or nothing. No in between.
â Leo Needs constant admiration but pretens they hate being the center of attention (yeah right).
â I never wanna pick a fight with a Gemini Mars. I'll end up crying screaming vomiting. They'll hit you with words. will make you lose your sleep doubting your own intelligence.
â Sagittarius Mercury be like "let me teach you something" while offending you. "Why are you so stupid?" Probably gives (unwanted, nobody asked for) advice like It's a love language.
â 12th house Venus / Mars may attract people by accident then blame them for falling for them.
â One time I tried telling a Pisces Mars they're wrong. And he straight up was like "yeah I know I'm a bad person" ok? Thanks for knowing that.
â Aries Venus wants the hottest person in the room, the one looks hard to attract but when they do, They'll get bored before the 2nd date.
â Does Capricorn moon even cry? Once a year?
â Arguing with a Taurus Mercury in the 3rd house is like screaming at a brick wall. You'll be tired by the time they change their mind.
â Sun in Pisces/6th house is like you think working 9-10 is death. Also cries if there's no routine.
â I love people with Jupiter in Gemini or 9th house Jupiter. They knows a little about everything won't shut up.
â Sagittarius Mercury as a child I was a chatterbox talking non stop. And I've my big cousin sister (she's a Capricorn) telling me to stfu.
â Pluto in the 1st house : you walk into a room triggering at least 5 people's childhood trauma.
â Neptune in the 7th house attracts emotionally unavailable people.
â Jupiter in Scorpio people talks like a sexy cult leader. Can convince you to ruin your life in seconds.
â Neptune in the 4th house thinks their childhood was either a fairy tail or a horror movie - no in between.
â Mars in Scorpio knows exactly how to ruin you emotionally also sexually. And they will.
â Mars in the 4th house fights in the kitchen brings up childhood trauma mid-argument.
â You're not dating a Scorpio Venus you made a deal with the devil. Good luck moving on. Probably casting a spell to make you obsessed.
â Chiron in Scorpio heals people but breaks them first.
â Pluto in the 12th house knows the vibe is off 3 weeks ago
â Pluto in the 3rd house can destroy someoneâs sense of self in a paragraph⌠and then say âI was just being honest.â
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A Week (He Will Take You)
~
Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.
This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.
Anyway
This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,
They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.
They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.
Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.
Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.
In other words they were stuck in Gotham
Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.
Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,
Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.
You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.
Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.
But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.
"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"
This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.
"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"
That was it.
The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.
But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,
Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.
The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty
Like no one had been living in it.
People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.
Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.
~
Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"
Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "
~
Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"
~
Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."
Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."
Bruce: "Hn."
Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"
~
Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"
Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"
~
Just an Idea
#glowy-death-ideas#danny phantom#dc x dp#dpxdc#batman#danny fenton#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp crossover#prompt fill#story prompt#prompts#writing prompt#dp#ghost#ghosts#dp x dc
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what's a soft launch? | max verstappen
social media au
synopsis: in which Max soft launches his new girlfriend, his boss' daughter...
a/n: based on this request!
pairing: max verstappen x horner!reader
my masterlist
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yn.horner thank you for having me, VS đ
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gigihadid you're gorgeous <3 so happy to have had you there with us
yn.horner awwww thank you g!! ly!!!đ¤
zendaya you killed it!!đ¤
yn.horner thank you babe!!đŤśđťđŤśđť
user1 my jaw is on the floor.
user2 MOTHER
user3 SHE'S THE MOMENT, SHE'S THE MOMENTâď¸
user4 imagine how lucky her friends aređĽ˛đĽ˛
alexandrasaintmleux i am so proud of you <3
yn.horner thank you, alex!!! đ¤
lilymhe how are you so beautiful? đ
yn.horner you tell me, love đđ¤
redbullracing our girl! đ liked by yn.horner
user5 i need to know what Christian had to say about this lol
yn.horner he was in the front row đ
he loved it!!
user6 so nobody is going to address Max being in her likes??
user7 theyâve known each other ever since he joined Red Bull, i think theyâre friends. not that weird
user6 true, but i heard some rumors that he might be in a relationship tooâŚ
user8 your honor, i love her ! liked by yn.horner
liked by yn.horner, landonorris and 2,103,476 others
maxverstappen1 Always a pleasure to be back in Abu Dhabi
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user1 NEW COUPLE ALERT âď¸âď¸âď¸
user2 is Max in his soft-launch era?
user3 MAX HAS A GIRLFRIEND??????
landonorris sneaky, mate
maxverstappen1 thanks for teaching me
user4 i never thought i would see the day when Max would learn something relationship-related from Lando
landonorris neither did i đ
redbullracing keep pushing! đ liked by maxverstappen1
yn.horner i'm telling Dad you refused to wear the RB shirt
maxverstappen1 please don't, i genuinely forgot it this morning
yn.horner LIAR
redbullracing how about we have a chat before quali, Max?
maxverstappen1 I canât believe you ratted me out
user6 if people still don't think that Y/N and Max are dating, i'm sorry for you guys
user7 why do you think that? they've been friends for years
user6 they've never interacted on social media before, and suddenly started leaving comments on each other's posts a couple of weeks ago?
user8 that doesn't mean anything, to be honest. we should really stop reading so much into their personal lives...
charles_leclerc i see you've finally grown the courage to do it, Max
maxverstappen1 courage is a strong word. i have enough courage
charles_leclerc sure you do
user9 they're dating, i'm also calling it
Real Life
"Someone just said they think we're dating" you said, showing Max a comment you had seen under his new post.
Max read the comment and chuckled, shaking his head.
"We can't hide anything from them, can we?" he said, leaning back down to rest his head in your lap.
"No, but we can have a little fun with it before we announce it officially, don't you think?" you said, a smirk tugging at your lips.
If there was something that you loved and was really known for, it was trolling the media and the fans.
Even though it would drive your father crazy and give your PR team much more work than what they would hope for, but the fans were digging it.
Despite knowing you were messing with them, they loved the cat and mouse chase you always had going on with them.
"Again? You know Christian told us to tone it down a notch, especially you" Max said, raising an eyebrow in your direction.
You sighed, jutting out your bottom lip in an adorable pout that you knew Max could never resist.
"But you know it's fun. Don't deprave me of my only source of entertainment, Max" you whined, gazing up at him with your best puppy dog eyes you could muster up.
Max sighed, shaking his head as he looked away from you and stared at the wall in front of him.
He knew he would give in sooner or later, which he blamed himself for always falling for your little trick.
"Alright, fine. But you're gonna deal with Horner on your own when he comes knocking on our door" he said, pointing with his finger at you.
You squealed and nodded before launching yourself at him, attacking his face with little kisses as you giggled.
"Promise"
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yn.horner doing very sinful things in Sin City đ¤
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user1 SOS ALERT: MOTHER HAS LANDED IN VEGAS
user2 oh no, here we gođĽš
redbullracing remember: please keep it PG! đ
yn.horner as i've already told you, i'm not a child
redbullracing your PR team would disagree
redbullracing Y/N, please remember what we talked about - PR team
yn.horner THE BETRAYAL
user3 i love how the red bull team can't keep up with herđđ
yn.horner they just don't know how to have fun :(
maxverstappen1 we all know your idea of 'fun' is hardly normal
yn.horner i don't remember you complaining until now
gigihadid can't wait to see you, bestie!!đ
yn.horner can't wait!! i've missed youđ¤đŤśđť
user4 just casually being besties with the biggest model in the world. oh, to be her, man
landonorris oh boy
yn.horner shut up
user5 your honor, she's mothering so hard right nowđĽš
user6 do we agree yet that the boyfriend she is soft-launching is Max?
user7 yep
user8 at this point, looks like it
user9 just waiting for confirmation at this point
lilymhe ditch him and come hang with me bby
yn.horner omw!!!
alex_albon well, that was easy...
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maxverstappen1 Thank you, Vegas. It was a very special one. Grateful for everything, grateful for winning my fourth championship with this team. Let's keep pushing to the end of the season!đŚ
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yn.horner you showed them, champ đŚ
maxverstappen1 <3
redbullracing proud of you, Max! here's to many more! đŚđŚ liked by yn.horner and maxverstappen1
landonorris well done, max. i'll get you next year
yn.horner keep dreaming, orange boy
landonorris hey...don't be mean...
maxverstappen1 what she said
landonorris ...
charles_leclerc congrats! now, can you let some of us have a go...?
maxverstappen1 no
charles_leclerc oh, come on...
yn.horner go away, french boy
charles_leclerc hey, i'm monegasque!!!!
user1 another testament to his greatness
user2 4-time world champ!!! congrats max!!
user3 i still wanna know who his girlfriend is
user4 it's obviously Y/N, they just like playing with us
user5 maybe they'll confirm it now that he's won his 4th championship
user6 hopefully, imagine Max and Y/N Horner actually dating
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yn.horner dear max. i don't think my words on this post do you justice, but i'm going to do my best to encapsulate the feelings that i have for you right now. it has been a privilege for me to be by your side for the past couple of years, cheering you on from the sidelines and celebrating the highs with you behind the scenes. we have come a long way and we have had a hard road, but i am so proud of what we have achieved together and the people that we have become. i am beyond grateful to be able to share life with you, both in and out of the paddock. i love you, max verstappen, and i am so proud of you, my love tagged: maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1 thank you for being you. i love you<3
yn.horner i love you too <3
landonorris thank God I don't have to keep it a secret anymore
yn.horner you almost exposed us more times than i can count -_-
landonorris but i didn't
maxverstappen1 you got lucky
redbullracing our favorite couple!!
charles_leclerc i am so happy for you guys!
maxverstappen1 thanks mate!
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#imagines#oneshots#fanfiction#one shot#formula 1#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fluff#max vertsappen#max verstappen blurb#max verstappen drabble#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen social media au#max verstappen series#max verstappen smau#max verstappen fic
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Orange Theory
Charles Leclerc x best friend!reader (female reader)


summary: charles and his best friend do countless nice things for each other, but they're just behaving like any good friend would. right? wc: 2.5k author's note: ok guys so this is not the Charles fic i promised (she is still a WIP and i will finish her eventually. probably will have to be a multi-part fic with how long it's getting), but i hope you enjoy this one in the meantime! special thanks to @scuderiahoney for encouragement and inspiration. special thanks to @sof1shticated for reading and assuring me this doesn't suck. if you haven't read their fics, both Lee and Mel have some gems that i adore. HIGHLY recommend checking out their masterlists! warnings: none!
You loved summer break â Charles was home for at least a few weeks, days spent on a yacht, every afternoon and evening spent with friends either at dinner or out at some club until someone got too drunk to carry on.
Today was, in your humble opinion, the perfect day. All of your friends, courtesy of Charles, were sprawled out on the sun deck of a rented boat or splashing around in the water below. You could feel the heat radiating off of Lando as he laid next to you and whispered about how McLaren was making insane upgrades â according to him, they might just have a race-winning car in the second half of the season.
âAre you boring my best friend to tears, Norris?â The brutal sun disappeared behind Charlesâ body as he stood above you â as if on instinct, he shifted slightly so that you could look up at him and not be blinded by its rays.
âSheâs hanging on my every word, right, Y/N? In fact, she asked me how Iâm feeling about Zandvoort and the rest of the season.â
âAnd?â Charles asked, a small smile on his face.
âLike I would tell you whatâs going on with the car! I know Y/N can keep a secret, she would never betray me to a prancing horse. She bleeds papaya.â
You laughed along with Lando â the one point of contention that had always existed in your friendship with Charles. Of course, you became a Ferrari fan because of him, but youâd always been a McLaren and Mercedes loyalist. It was something that Lando, Oscar, and George relished in.
âAlright, alright, no need to rub it in, Norris,â you giggled. âWhat can I do for you, Charlie?â
âI just came to give you this.â
Within seconds, a perfectly peeled orange dropped in your lap. Landoâs eyes grew wide for a moment but a swift glare from Charles had his face back to normal in no time. You missed the interaction, jumping up from your seat in excitement.
âAw, Charlie! You are the best friend a girl could ask for,â you chirped as you started separating the wedges of fruit.
âAh, donât mention it,â he sighed, waving his citrus-scented hand in the air. âThereâs more in the cooler if you want! Freshly peeled!â
âThank you, mon cher ami.â You quickly kissed his cheek, noticing as you pulled away just how red it was, along with his neck and the tips of his ears. âCharles! How many times do I have to tell you to put on sunscreen? Your face and neck are fried!â
âI donât think itâs from the sun,â Lando mumbled, his eyes trained on the fruit in your hands. With Charles insisting he was fine, you could barely hear what he had said.
âWhat did you say, Lan?â You asked, turning your attention away from Charles for a moment.
Once again, Lando was met with a menacing glare and he laughed awkwardly before moving his gaze to the horizon.
âNothing, nothing, Y/N. Just thinking out loud.â
Shrugging your shoulders, you turned back to Charles and handed him the orange he had just given to you. With your now free hands, you rifled through your beach bag until you found the SPF 50 face cream you had packed that morning with Charles in mind.
âHere, I packed this for you. Please put some on so I donât have to worry about you getting sun poisoning,â you pleaded with your best puppy dog eyes.
Charles stared without answering for far too long â anything you wanted, all you had to do was ask him and heâd do it. Even without you gazing at him with your wide, siren eyes, he would give you the world if you so desired it.
He shook his head slightly, pulling himself out of the daze caused by your pleading eyes. âOui, ma fleur, I will put on the sun cream. Je promets.â
You smiled in triumph, taking the orange back from Charles and bidding him a âsee you laterâ before laying back down in your lounger. Popping an orange slice into your mouth, you let out a contented sigh. Somehow, whether Charles was magic or he had some serious connections in the produce world, the fruit he picked out and gave to you always tasted better than anything you bought yourself.
âHe peels your oranges for you?â
You hummed and turned to Lando â âwhat, Lan?â
âDoes Charles always peel your oranges for you?â
âWell, no, obviously not always. Why?â
Before Lando could answer, Lily plopped down next to you and stole an orange slice from your hand.
âI swear,â she huffed, âAlex and George are competitive to begin with, but when they get together, itâs unbearable. Theyâve been having a âwho can hold their breath the longestâ contest for the past thirty minutes! Rematch after rematch after rematch, I called in my favor with Oscar to get out of judging their little competition.â
âAs if either of them could beat me, they probably didnât ask me to join because theyâre scared,â Lando bragged. âIâll leave you ladies to chat, go show them how itâs done.â
As Lando walked towards the edge of the boat, you and Lily turned towards one another.
âMen,â you scoffed in unison, following it up with belly laughs and lingering giggles.
As the laughter died down, Lily ate the orange slice she had stolen from you and practically moaned in delight. âWhere did you get this orange? It might be the best Iâve ever had!â
âItâs from Charles! I was just thinking about this, I donât know how he does it but he always has the best fruit. Every time he brings me any I am both ecstatic and pissed off â my fruit is never as good as his and we shop at the same grocery store!â
âWell, does he have any more oranges? I could eat 20 of these.â
âHe said he left me more in his cooler, let me grab them.â
A few moments later, you walked back to Lily with a bag of peeled oranges in your right hand and two bottles of water in your left.
âAre you a professional orange peeler? You were only gone for two minutes.â
âOh no,â you giggled, âCharles peeled them for me. He knows I donât like peeling them so when he can, he always does it for me.â
âY/N,â Lily looked at you suspiciously, âdo you know what the orange peel theory is?â
You wracked your brain but came up empty. âNo, what is it?â
Lily went into a brief explanation â something about how it became a viral tik tok challenge, people asking their partners if they would peel an orange for them and how it was an indicator of true love, soulmates, a healthy relationship, and everything in between. âWell, thatâs just silly,â you mumbled through chews, orange juice dribbling down your chin. âI think it just means someone is a good person â Charlie and I arenât anything more than friends and he peels my oranges, among other things, because he has a good heart.â
âAmong other things?â Lily pressed you, her eyes gleaming with something you couldnât quite place.
âHe slices my apples because I have never been able to master the apple corer contraption! And he takes all my grapes off the stems when heâs at my place because I never do â itâs too tedious.â
âWhat else?â
âOh, when we go out to breakfast, he always brings me a tea when he picks me up. Heâs an early riser and I take forever to get ready. He knows I never have time to make it myself when we have plans before 10am.â
Lily was smirking at you, no, smiling at you. It was a little unnerving, the way she was entirely amused at the information you were giving her. However, the moment was briefly interrupted by the arrival of Alex.
âWhat are we talking about, ladies?â He spoke cheerfully, a broad smile on his face which meant that he was most likely declared the best breath holder of the 2019 rookies.
âY/N was just telling me about all the sweet things Charles does for her,â Lily gushed.
âOh god, when is he not doing things for her? Did you see him buttering her bread for her at dinner last week?â
Lily burst out laughing while you playfully punched Alexâs arm. âIâm indecisive! He butters it for me while I read the menu since it takes me so long to figure out what I want to order. It saves time!â
âHe does that on a regular basis?â Alex asked incredulously, looking at Lily with wide eyes. âMy god, that man is head over heels.â
âAlex,â you protested, âCharles is not in love with me. Weâve been friends for six years, I think I would know by now.â
âYouâre both impossible,â Alex groaned. âCome on, Lily, I just came over to get you so we could play water polo with George and Carmen.â
Lily sighed in defeat, though she had a smile on her face at the thought of spending time with Alex even if it meant another competition. âIâll see you, later, yeah?â She called over her shoulder, waving goodbye as you teased her by dramatically eating another slice of orange and settling back in your chair. At the front of the boat, Charles was laughing with Pierre and almost as if he felt you looking, he turned around and met your gaze.
Even though you had just wholly denied anything more than friendship between you and him, you couldnât help but think about your interactions with Lily and Alex.
Sure, Charles sometimes did things that were out of the ordinary for âjust friendsâ, but he had the sweetest soul of anyone youâd ever met. He always sacrificed his umbrella or jacket for you, made sure you had fresh tulips in your apartment when he was home in between races, had your favorite meal delivered to you when you were having a rough day while he was away and you missed him.
You did things for him too â cleaned his apartment when you knew he was on his way back to Monaco, left him plenty of sticky notes with words of encouragement if he was coming back from a bad race, stocked his fridge full of his favorite things. Recently, youâd been gifting him annotated books because he mentioned he wanted to read more and always enjoyed listening to you talk about your favorite novels. Since you spent most of the year apart, you decided he could at least read your thoughts.
When you could come to races, unfortunately a rare occurrence due to your graduate classes and work schedule, he made sure Ferrari hospitality had your favorite flavor of sparkling water on hand. Anytime you saw a cute dog video, you would send it to him because they always made him smile.
Youâd do anything to make him smile, just as he would for you, which is what a good friend would do. A best friend, itâs what a best friend would do.
But best friends didnât linger in doorways and stare at each otherâs lips when bidding each other goodnight. They didnât cuddle close and fall asleep in each otherâs arms on a couch while watching whatever movie you had chosen because he always let you choose.
They didnât look at one another the way Charles was looking at you now â his sunglasses pushed up on top of his head and a dopey smile on his face. He waved to you and dramatically blew you a kiss, something he always did when he caught your eye across a room, no matter who was around.
You practically launched yourself to your feet, the last remaining orange slices in your lap falling to the lounger and staining the seat with juice. It was only seconds until you were standing in front of Charles but the walk over felt like an eternity with the way the world around you disappeared and your heart pounded in your chest.
âEst-ce que tu maimes, Charles?â
The question came out in one breath, your chest heaving in anticipation for his response.
âOf course, I love you, ma fleur,â he laughed. âWhatâs gotten into you?â
âNo,â you panted. âDo you love me, Charlie? Est-ce que tu maimes?â
âOf course, I love you,â he answered again, his eyes shining and a small smile on his face that told you everything you needed to know. âEvery time I think of you, I love you. Every time I breathe, I love you.â
âEvery time you peel my oranges?â You whispered, holding up your orange juice-stained fingertips. He took your right hand in his and held it up to his face to kiss your palm, his eyelashes fluttering against you gently.
âEspecially when I peel your oranges. Did you know that I hate doing it too? Like, really hate it. I donât even peel them for myself.â
You gasped in shock, watching as he threw his head back and laughed jovially.
âIâd do anything for you, ma fleur. Mon soleil. Mon cĹur.â
âWould you kiss me?â
âMaybe if Pierre would leave and stop gawking at us.â
This time you threw your head back to laugh, Charles soon joining you as Pierre protested the accusation.
âNo, no,â he shouted, âyou didnât even give me a chance to leave. Just started declaring your love before I knew what was happening. Which, by the way, was so obvious it was starting to get annoying. Weâve all tried dropping hints to both of you so I donât know who got through to you, Y/N, but â â
âPierre!â You shouted, eyes wide and arm gesturing him away from the two of you.
âAh, dĂŠsolĂŠ, Iâm leaving,â he grumbled, almost tripping over his own feet to get away as quickly as possible.
You giggled again and Charles gripped your chin softly, pulling your eyes away from Pierre and back to face him.
He leaned in gently, as if he was afraid you would back away and regret taking the leap to go from friends to something so much more.
He tasted like salt water, smelled like sweet fruit and sunscreen â you smiled into the kiss knowing that he had listened to you and put it on, even though you knew he hated the way it felt on his skin.
His fingers gripped your waist and yours trailed up his chest â both of you slightly sticky from the citrus juices and sweat from the sun.
You pulled away and nudged his nose with yours, breathing him in and wishing that this moment would never end. Charles lowered you both to the sun deck, adjusting until you were sitting between his legs and his arms were wrapped firmly around you, the two of you facing the sunset and open sea.
After a few moments, you broke the shared silence. âYou know, I would have happily peeled an orange for you if you had ever asked me,â you asserted.
Charlesâ hold on you softened at your admission, the thinly veiled meaning not at all lost on him as he pressed his lips to your cheek.
âI love you too, Y/N.â
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 x reader#forzalando#f1 fanfic#f1 fic
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5 SECONDS TO FREEDOM | prologue
ËËË debts unpaid ËËË

"In Tokyo's underground, there are only two currencies that matterârespect and reputation. When someone threatens to take both, you don't just race them. You destroy them."

next | index
â・°⊠chapter details âŠÂ°ď˝Ąâ
word count: 3.5k
content: street racing culture, debt collection, first meetings, midnight races, dangerous driving, Spanish endearments as provocation, the dynamics of Tokyo's underground scene, and your first defeat in nineteen months.

â§ author's note â§
Soooo here we fucking go.
I've been obsessing over this story for monthsâI think we all know that lmaooo I think I posted the teaser like a couple months ago and I was devastated because it barely got 50 notes. But you know what, this was still in my head so I did write some drabblesâand I kind of shaped the prologue, which is what youâre gonna read below hahaha.
âBut Kiki we just sent you 45 asks telling you to restâ AND I SAID SIKE??? No actually, Iâm okay I promise! Usually writing different stories is what prevents me from burning out, because I get frustrated with the same storyline so itâs like⌠I write something else and my brain goes âyay thanksâ. You know, ADHDâshiny new toy, mind dances to the music.
Anyways, so. I love this. I love this because as always I get to experiment with different personalities and psychological backgrounds and what I fucking love about these two is the masks they wear and how opposite they are. Heâs cocky and arrogant, but in a different way FMU!jungkook is. Sheâs determined and ambitious, always pushing for more, but still very distinct from all my other Y/Nâs because sheâs handling different situations (youâll see in later chapters).
And Hachiroku and Jaque aren't just racing personasâthey're escapes. And what makes this delicious is that they're running from opposite lives. One from privilege, one from struggle. Both finding freedom in the same five seconds at the starting line.
And yes, the cars matter. They're not just vehicles; they're extensions of identity. The AE86 is legendary for a reasonânot the most powerful, but perfectly balanced in the hands of someone who knows exactly what they're doing (sound familiar?). Meanwhile, the R34 Skyline is raw, unapologetic power held in check by someone who understands precisely when to unleash it.
AS ALWAYSâREAD THE AUTHOR INTRO AND TW listed in the index post. This is a must before reading this story.
Fair warning: this isn't going to be a clean race. These characters are messy. They make decisions that will make you want to scream at them. They'll crash into each other's lives and leave debris everywhere, and the kind of attraction that feels like a guardrail giving way on a mountain pass.
But that's the point, isn't it? The most interesting stories happen in the dangerous curves.
So buckle up. We've got a long road ahead.
Ready? Lightâs about to turn green.
Also. Notes for this one are pretty high, thatâs intentional. Like I just wanted to post the prologue to have it out for a bit but I still need to work on the arcs and major plot points. So I donât have the story fully shaped out for now, which is why I want this to rest and check for engagement and reactions. Seriouslyâdonât crash out, I know this one will take time and thatâs absolutely my intention!

â・°⊠read onâŠÂ°ď˝Ąâ
ao3
wattpad
Respect isn't given in Tokyo's undergroundâit's paid in cash or blood.
You roll the cherry lollipop against your teeth, counting seconds in your head like engine timing.
Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty-six hours since you left Kalo and his overpriced Supra in your rearview on the Hakone downhill, his taillights disappearing around the corner while you took the perfect line through the hairpin that everyone else brakes too hard for.
It's nighttime at Daikoku.
You cross one leg over the other, letting your heeled boot dangle casually off the edge of your AE86's hood. The mini skirt wasn't a random choice. Neither was showing up without your racing gear.
Because tonight isn't about drivingâit's about collecting.
"Kalo's nowhere to be seen," Maya says, leaning against your car's hood, arms crossed. "Dipped hard."
You don't bother looking at her, just shift the lollipop to the other side of your mouth with your tongue. The neon from nearby signs reflects off the polished black and white paint of your 86.
"What?" Maya catches your expression. "I'm just saying. Word is he's been avoiding this spot since you embarrassed him."
"While still flashing cash at that club in Roppongi," you add, voice flat. "Buying drinks for anyone who'll listen to his bullshit version of what happened on the mountain."
You tug at one of the layered chains around your neck, watching the crowd that's gathered tonight.
The usual suspects are hereâwannabes with more money than skill taking photos of each other's cars, veterans huddled around hoods talking suspension setups, scouts looking for the next race.
Everyone except the one person who should be here with your money.
"So what's the plan?" Maya nudges your shoulder. "Just gonna sit here looking pretty until he magically appears?"
You roll your eyes. "Since when do I just sit and wait for anything?"
"Fair point." She grins that wolfish grin of hers. "So?"
"So I track his ass down." You twist the lollipop stick between your fingers. "He owes me fifty thousand yen. But more than that, he owes me the respect of paying up and admitting I smoked him fair and square."
Maya snorts, exactly as you expected. "Called it. Knew you wouldn't let this slide."
"It's not about the money." You straighten up, adjusting your cropped leather jacket. "It's about the principle. You lose a race, you pay your debts. That's how this works. You don't just disappear like some amateur who can't handle defeat."
"Especially not when he talked all that shit beforehand," Maya adds, picking at her black nail polish. "What was it he said again? Something about how no girl could ever handle hisâ"
"'No girl could handle my power on the downhill,'" you quote dryly. "Right before I passed him on the outside of that corner everyone brakes for."
The memory brings a slight smile to your face.
The shock in his eyes when you appeared in his side mirror where no car should have been able to fit.
The desperate overcorrection that sent him nearly scraping the guardrail while you smoothly accelerated away.
"Exactly." Maya pushes off your hood. "So what's the first move? Hit his usual spots?"
You pull the lollipop from your mouth with a pop. "Already did. Club Seventh in Roppongi. The garage where his uncle works in Setagaya. That ramen shop he's always at in Shibuya."
"Stalker much?" Maya raises an eyebrow.
"Thorough," you correct her. "There's a difference."
A brief silence falls between you as you both watch a metallic blue GT-R roll into the lot, bass thumping hard enough to vibrate the pavement.
Not Kalo's crowdâthese guys run with the Yokohama crew.
"Kenji might know," you say finally, referring to your mutual friend who somehow knows everyone's business in Tokyo's racing scene. "He mentioned Kalo's been hanging around some new spot in Meguro the past week."
Maya pulls out her phone. "Want me to text him now?"
"Already did." You tap your boot against the bumper of your car. "He's supposed to meet us here inâ" you check the time on your wrist "âfifteen minutes ago."
"Typical." Maya rolls her eyes. "That guy couldn't be on time if his life depended on it."
You're about to respond when you spot a familiar face weaving through the crowd. Kenji, with his signature sunglasses despite it being well past midnight, making his way toward you.
You straighten up slightly, not wanting to appear too eager for information.
"Ladies," he greets with that irritating smirk of his, adjusting his sunglasses even though there's absolutely no need. "Looking dangerous tonight, Y/N. Someone's not here to race."
"Just tell me what you know about Kalo," you say, cutting through his bullshit.
Kenji leans against your car without askingâa liberty you allow only because he's useful.
"Direct as always. That's what I like about you."
"Kenji," you warn, patience already wearing thin.
"Fine, fine." He holds up his hands in surrender. "Your boy's been hanging at this new garage in Meguro. Place called Midnight Rush. Trying to get in with that crew that runs the Wangan on weekends."
You raise an eyebrow. "The twins' territory? That's desperate even for him."
"After what you did to his reputation?" Kenji shrugs. "Man's gotta find somewhere to start over."
Maya laughs. "Not how this works. You don't just reset when you lose."
"Exactly." You shift your weight, boot heels clicking against the pavement. "So he's there tonight?"
"Should be. They're prepping for some big run tomorrow. Word is there's serious money changing hands. He's trying to buy his way in."
The conversation halts as the distinctive growl of an approaching engine cuts through the night.
Not just any engineâsomething with a tune you've never heard before.
Sharp. Aggressive. Perfectly balanced.
Heads turn as a midnight purple Skyline R34 GT-R glides into the parking area, before coming to a stop under the harsh parking lot lights.
"Who the hell is that?" Maya straightens up, suddenly alert.
Kenji's expression shifts from boredom to interest in an instantâa rare change for him. "New player. Goes by Jaque."
You study the car, assessing rather than admiring.
Aftermarket body kit, but tasteful. Custom wheels. The stance is aggressive but functional.
Whoever built this wasn't just throwing money at itâthey knew exactly what they were doing.
"Jaque?" you repeat, keeping your voice neutral despite your curiosity. "What kind of name is that?"
"Latino guy. Showed up about a month ago." Kenji lowers his voice, shifting into the gossip mode he lives for. "Been cleaning up. Undefeated so far."
Your eyebrow rises slightly at that.
Undefeated is a bold claim in this scene.
"Never heard of him," Maya says, voicing what you're thinking.
"That's because he's been running mostly on the Wangan line. Outrunning cops, taking stupid risks. The kind of shit that gets you noticed fast." Kenji's eyes remain fixed on the car. "Word is he beat Hayato's record on the C1 loop last week."
That gets your attention, though you're careful not to show it.
Hayato's record has stood for three years.
This guy has broken it in a month.
Who the fuck is this?
Your question is answered when the driver's door opens, and the crowd's murmur intensifies. A figure emerges, oozing the confidence of someone who knows they belong anywhere they choose to be.
Not tall, but with a presence that fills the space around him. Dark hair, sharp jawline, and a smirk that suggests he's already three steps ahead of everyone else.
"He drives like he's got nothing to lose," Kenji adds, a note of genuine respect in his voice that you rarely hear. "Like he doesn't care if he crashes or dies. It's... I donât know man. Something else."
You watch as the driverâJaque, apparentlyâleans back against his Skyline, surveying the crowd like he's taking inventory.
His gaze sweeps across the parking lot, until it lands on your group.
Or more specifically, on you.
He gives you a small nod, as if acknowledging territory.
"Looks like you've got an admirer," Maya mutters, nudging your ribs.
You shrug, unimpressed. "Looks like another ego with a nice car."
But you don't look away, and neither does he. It's a standoff of sorts, neither willing to be the first to break eye contact.
You've played this game before with countless racers who thought they were hot shit.
You've never been the first to look away.
"Don't dismiss him so quickly," Kenji warns, surprising you. "I've seen him drive. Iâm dead serious, itâs not normal."
"Nobody's unbeatable," you say, finally breaking the staring contest to look back at Kenji.
Just because you had to look back at Kenji.
"Maybe." Kenji shifts uncomfortably. "But this guy... he doesn't race like a normal person. It's like he's got some kind of death wish, but with the skill to back it up."
You scoff, though something about Kenji's toneâthe genuine concern beneath his usual bullshitâgives you pause.
"Death wish or not, a car's a car, and physics is physics. There are rules to this game that nobody breaks."
Maya's watching you with that knowing look she gets when she can tell someone's gotten under your skin, even just a little.
"You want to find out, don't you?"
"I want to find Kalo and get my money," you correct her, though your eyes drift back to the Skyline against your will. "That's why we're here."
You scoff at Maya's knowing smirk, about to tell her to shut it when fragments of conversation float over from where the newcomer stands. One word cuts through the ambient noise of engines and chatter.
Kalo.
Your head snaps toward the source.
The Skyline guyâJaqueâleans against his car, talking to a small circle of racers. His hands move expressively as he speaks, gold bracelet catching the neon light.
"Kenji." You cut him off mid-sentence. "Who exactly is this guy talking to?"
Kenji follows your gaze. "Nobody important. Some Yokohama kids trying to get noticed." He adjusts those stupid sunglasses. "Why?"
"He just mentioned Kalo."
Maya straightens beside you. "You sure?"
No mistaking it. Not when you've been hunting that name for two weeks.
"Excuse me," you say, already moving.
Maya sighs behind you. "Here she goes again."
You don't look back. Your boots click purposefully across the pavement, moving slowly. Not rushingâyou never rush. But determined.
Three guys surrounding Jaque glance up as you approach, their expressions shifting from interest to wariness. They know who you are.
He doesn't turn immediately. Keeps talking, voice carrying a rhythm unlike anything you've heard in Tokyo. An accent that doesn't belong here.
Only when you're close enough to count the stitches on his leather jacket does he acknowledge your presence.
And even then, it's just a partial turn. Forty-five degrees. Neck cradling slightly to look at you sideways.
Performative, if anything. Like he knew you were coming before you did.
You cross your arms, weight shifting to one hip. His mouth twitches upward at the corner, eyes traveling from your face down to your boots and back up again.
Not subtle about it at all.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of this sight?" Velvet slides from his lips.
One eyebrow quirks upward, the slightest movement. His Japanese is fluent but differentâconsonants softened, vowels stretched in places they shouldn't be.
You narrow your eyes. "You mentioned Kalo. What do you know about him? What's your relationship?"
He studies you for two full seconds. Not answering. Just looking. Like he's trying to read something written in small print.
Then he chuckles, using two fingers to move a thin strand of dark hair that's fallen across his view. The movement is unnecessary. Theatrical. Done for effect.
"Why so serious, princesa?"
Itâs Spanish, the last word. You know that much, know from the way the word rolls off his tongue, deliberate, inserted where it doesn't belong. Like heâs testing boundaries, hoping for a reaction.
"I asked you a question." You keep your voice unimpressed.
"And I asked you one too."
He turns to face you fully now, leaning back against his car with the casualness of someone who's never been afraid of anything.
"But since you came all this way... Kalo. The Supra guy, right? The one who races like he learned driving from a video game?"
The description is so accurate you almost smile.
Almost.
"I hear he owes someone money," he continues, watching your reaction carefully. "Someone who smoked him on the mountain course two weeks back. Embarrassed him so badly he's been hiding like a scared rabbit."
His three companions take subtle steps backward, no longer interested in being part of this conversation.
Smart.
Maya appears beside you, silent backup. Though her presence changes nothing in his demeanor.
"And how would you know about that?" you ask.
He shrugs one shoulder.
"People talk. I listen." His accent thickens when he adds, "Es lo que hago." (Itâs what I do)
"Is that right?" You don't react to the Spanish. "Interesting that someone who just showed up knows so much about other people's business."
"I'm observant."
His eyes lock with yours.
"For example, I observe that you're not here to race tonight. That outfit? Those heels?" He clicks his tongue. "You're here to collect. To make a point."
Something cold slides down your spine. Not fearâyou don't do fear. Something else.
Being read so easily isn't a sensation you're familiar with.
"What's your name again?" You ask it like you've already forgotten, though you haven't.
"Jaque." He says it with a slight emphasis on the second syllable. "And you're Y/N. The 86 driver who hasn't lost a mountain race in what, two years?"
"Nineteen months," Maya corrects automatically.
You shoot her a look.
Jaque's smile widens. "Nineteen months. Impressive."
"If you're done wasting my time," you say, turning slightly, "I have a debt to collect."
"From a guy who isn't here."
He pushes off his car, closing the distance between you by half a step. Not enough to be threatening. Just enough to make his presence unavoidable.
"And won't be. Not tonight," he adds.
"And you know that how?"
"Because I passed him on the expressway heading in the opposite direction. About twenty minutes ago." He taps his wrist where a watch would be. "Running scared, looked like."
You clench your jaw. If he's telling the truth, you've wasted your night. Another dead end in your hunt for the coward who owes you.
"So you just happened to recognize a stranger's car?" Maya asks, skepticism heavy in her voice.
"A white Supra with that terrible aftermarket body kit and the Rising Sun decal on the hood?" He makes a dismissive gesture. "Hard to miss. Hard to forget, unfortunately."
That description matches Kalo's car exactly; and the sick feeling in your stomach tells you he's not lying, as much as you'd like him to be.
"Well," you say, voice cooling by several degrees, "thanks for the information."
You turn to leave, disgusted at having your time wasted. First by Kalo's absence, now by this newcomer who clearly just wanted to get your attention. Another night, another waste.
"I'll pay you double what he owes you."
The words stop you mid-step.
You turn back slowly, measuring every movement.
"Excuse me?"
Jaque's expression hasn't changed, but something in his eyes has.
Theyâre gleaning.
"Fifty thousand yen, right? I'll make it a hundred." He says casually, like offering to buy a coffee. "If you beat me."
Maya makes a small sound beside you, something between a scoff and a laugh.
"And why would I race someone I don't know for money I don't need?"
You almost laugh. As if this is about the money. You were born into more yen than heâs ever seenâthis is about respect. About principle. About owning your loss when someone beats you clean. No excuses. No saving face. Just bow your head and pay what you owe.
But heâs not done.
"Because you're curious." He says it like it's obvious. "Because you've been the best for nineteen months and you're bored. Because you want to know if I'm as good as they say."
"As good as who says?" You roll your eyes. "I've never heard of you before tonight."
"Then I must be doing something right." His smile shifts, becomes syrupy. "But if money doesn't motivate you, how about thisâI win, I get to run with your crew. Race in your territory."
You can't help itâyou laugh. Short and dismissive.
"That's not how this works. You don't just buy your way in." Your eyes flick to his car. "No matter how pretty your GT-R is."
"I'm not buying," he corrects, that accent slipping into his Japanese again. "I'm earning. Difference."
You narrow your eyes.
Maya leans close to your ear. "You're not seriously considering this?"
You should walk away. This guy is nobody. A newcomer with a nice car and too much confidence. The racing scene sees them every month. They come, they crash, they disappear.
But.
Something about the way he stands there, utterly certain of himself, gets under your skin.
Like he already knows your answer before you do.
And maybe it's the wasted night. Maybe it's two weeks of hunting Kalo with nothing to show for it. Maybe it's just the need to put someone in their place.
"One race," you hear yourself say.
Maya's head whips toward you in surprise.
"One race," you continue, "and when I win, you pay double what Kalo owes me, and you don't bother me again."
"And when I win," he counters, not missing a beat, "I race with your crew. Simple."
"If," you correct.
"When." He doesn't back down.
One calculated step closer brings his scent into focus. Leather, naturally, but beneath it something that doesn't compute. A scent that belongs to ryokan inns and meditation halls, not this arrogant foreigner.
Hinoki.
"You're awfully confident for someone who knows nothing about me or how I drive."
"And you're awfully defensive for someone who's supposedly unbeatable." His voice drops lower, meant for your ears only. "What are you afraid of, princesa?"
The Spanish word again. A barb. Challenging.
"Afraid?" You match his tone. "I'm trying to save you the embarrassment. And the money."
He laughs, so genuine that it catches you off guard. "So it's settled then. You and me. Tonight."
From the corner of your eye, you see Kenji approaching, drawn by the developing scene. Others are watching too.
Word travels fast in this world.
"Fine." You extend your hand, a formality in this world of verbal contracts. "My terms. My course."
He takes your hand. His grip is firm but not aggressive. Just right. His palm warm against yours.
"Your course," he agrees. "But I pick when."
You raise an eyebrow. "When, then?"
His smile widens, showing teeth. "Now."

Death has a rhythm.
Tonight, it sounds like Daddy Yankee.
The mountain is yoursâevery curve, every shadow, every inch of guardrail. You've memorized each crack in the asphalt like the lines on your palm.
Yet as you sit at the starting line, engine purring, the midnight purple Skyline beside you blasts "Gasolina" loud enough to vibrate your windows.
He's not even looking at the road.
Jaque's got hand on the wheel, the other tapping the window frame in rhythm.
Kenji stands between the cars, arms raised.
You grip your steering wheel tighter.
Focus. Calculate. This is your mountain. Your rules.
"Ready!" Kenji shouts.
You check your gauges, settle into position, drop your breath rate. Your 86 is an extension of your body.
"Set!"
Jaque turns to youâactually turns his head away from the roadâand winks.
Winks.
What the fuck is his problem?
Your jaw clenches so hard you hear teeth grinding.
"GO!"
You snap into the first gear immediately, launching forward as your tires bite into asphalt. Perfect traction. Perfect release. Your 86 shoots ahead exactly as calculated, exactly as it always does.
The Skyline stays even.
First corner approachesâtight right-hander with a nasty camber that catches amateurs by surprise. You brake at the perfect moment, downshift, feel the weight transfer as you clip the apex.
Textbook. Flawless. The corner you've taken hundreds of times.
The Skyline mirrors you exactly, staying in your blind spot. The bass from his music is still thumping through the night air.
Second corner. Third. Fourth. Each attack perfect, each line immaculate. And still, he's there. Not gaining, not falling behind. Just... present. Like a shadow you can't shake.
"What the hell is this guy playing at?" You mutter, taking the next hairpin with a controlled aggression that should give you an advantage.
Should.
Doesn't.
The Skyline follows, its midnight paint swallowing the moonlight instead of reflecting it. Through the next three corners, it continuesâyou lead, he follows, neither gaining ground.
Until the straightaway.
The road opens up, and you floor it. The 86 responds instantly, pushing you back into your seat. This is where your lighter weight should shine.
But the Skyline surges forward, twin-turbo engine unleashing a growl that slices the night.
He passes you.
Not aggressively. Not dangerously.
Just... efficiently.
Like it's the most natural thing in the world.
For the first time in nineteen months, you're staring at someone else's taillights.
"No fucking way."
You push harder, finding speed you rarely tap into. The gap closes slightly on the approach to the next cornerâa sharp left with a cliff drop on the outside.
No guardrail. No room for error.
Normal people brake early here.
Jaque, as it turns out, is not normal people.
You don't brake until the last possible microsecond, throwing the 86 into the corner. The tires scream, traction at its absolute limit. You can feel them searching for grip, dancing on the edge of adhesion.
You exit the corner a car length behind him.
"Come on!" You slam the gearshift, pushing for more.
The next section is technicalâfive corners in quick succession. Your territory.
It's where precision matters more than power.
You close the gap. Corner by corner, inch by inch. Three more and you're on his bumper. Close enough to see his fingers still tapping against the frame slightly to the rhythm.
The next hairpin is your chance. The inside line is riskyâthere's barely enough roomâbut it's your mountain.
You know exactly how much space you need.
You dive for the gap.
For one beautiful moment, you're alongside him. Equal. Your front bumper inches past his door.
Then he does something impossible.
Instead of defending the lineâinstead of doing what any rational driver would doâJaque throws his car into a drift so aggressive it sends the back end swinging wide, nearly touching the guardrail.
The move creates an arc that cuts you off, forces you to brake or crash.
You brake.
The maneuver costs him speed, should give you another chance to pass on exit.
But before you can capitalize, he's already accelerating out of the drift, the Skyline's all-wheel drive finding traction where none should exist.
"What the actualâ"
The move was insane. Suicidal. The kind of thing that ends with twisted metal and sirens.
And he pulled it off like he was parallel parking.
For the final stretchâthree corners and the last straightawayâyou throw caution aside. Push beyond limits you usually respect. The 86 responds, giving everything it has.
It's not enough.
The Skyline crosses the finish line two car lengths ahead. You slam your palm against the steering wheel.
The taste of defeat is metallic in your mouth, foreign and despised.
You bring the 86 to a hard stop, tires protesting at the sudden deceleration.
The music still pounds from his car. That same goddamn song.
You throw open your door, adrenaline and anger propelling you forward. The cool mountain air hits your flushed face as you storm toward his car.
Because that last move? It wasn't just recklessâit was deadly. The kind of stunt that gets people killed on these mountains.
Words build in your throat. Sharp words. Words about respect for the mountain and death wishes and arrogance.
His door swings open as you approach. The music blasts louder without the barrier of glass and metal. He slides out with that same casual grace you saw when he called you princesa, when he winked before accelerating.
And something stops the words in your throat.
He shakes his head slightly, dark hair falling across his eyes before he pushes it back with one smooth motion. His other hand remains on the Skyline's roof, some golden ring catching the moonlight.
When he turns to face you, there's no triumph in his expression. No arrogance.
Just... satisfaction.
Like he's found something he's been looking for.
His eyes meet yours across the short distance. That smile appears againânot the cocky smirk from earlier, but something more genuine. Lips curved just slightly at the corners.
"Thanks for the adrenaline rush, mami," he says, voice carrying over the pounding beat of Daddy Yankee.
You've never hated Spanish music more in your life.

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Nobody Important
Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you first meet Logan you tell him youâre nobody important. But it soon becomes clear you are a lot more important than you say.Â
Disclaimer: Contains descriptions of nightmares, couple of swear words, being drugged (nothing bad, just some chamomile tea). Mostly fluff moments with a hint of angst. I watched X-Men and wanted to write something for him. Reader has powers though they're not specified fully. Not Proof Read.
When Charles told Logan someone was going to pick him up from the airport, the last person he expected was, well, you.Â
Compared to the pristine and fancy cars that were held at the school garage, you pulled up in a beat up old station wagon that looked like it had seen more than a couple of scratches in its time. And you werenât dressedâŚlike the rest of them.Â
Rather than in some kind of pant-suit combo, you were wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, jeans, boots and a heavy brown leather overcoat.Â
âHey, sorry Iâm late. Hope I didnât keep you waiting too long.â You began immediately as you stepped out onto the curb and rushed towards him. âI was at the back of the forest collecting some berries and lost track of time. Shall we get going?â
Logan looked you over. You seemed a lot moreâŚenergetic than he was.Â
âWho are you?â
âProfessor X sent me. To collect you. You are Logan, arenât you?â
âThat depends. Who are you?â
âYour ride to the school, unless you plan on walking for two hours in the freezing cold.â
Logan grunted and threw his bag into the backseat. You still hadnât answered his question but the licence plate of your car matched that of the one Charles had told him to look out for.Â
However, fifteen minutes into the drive, Logan asked once more. âWho are you?â
You smiled and looked at him for a moment before moving your gaze back to the road ahead. âNobody important.â
âOkay, fine. What are you?â
You smiled again. âNothing you need to be concerned about.â
âAlright, listen bub-â
âLogan, whatever information about me you think youâre gonna have me tell you; itâs not gonna happen. I work with Charles and thatâs all you need to know.â
Logan furrowed his brows. âSo youâre a telepath? Like him?â
âYou donât need to concern yourself with what or even who I am. But,â you reached down and pulled a file from the driver's side door before turning it over on the steering wheel and handed it over to him. âYou should concern yourself about this.â
Logan took it, a little confused, and opened it up.Â
âHe wants you to know what youâre walking into when we get back.â
After that, the rest of the drive was silent save for one question from Logan, only to have you reply with;Â
âAll the answers youâre looking for are either in there or are with the Professor.â
He didnât bother asking you another question after that. Not that you would have answered it anyway.Â
Once you finally did pull up to the school, it seemed you were beside him one minute and went the next into some unknown corner of the school because he didnât see you after that.Â
But he still had questions.Â
Unanswered questions.Â
Like who the hell were you?Â
A week later, he still didnât have his answers. But he did run into you again.Â
In the kitchens.Â
The entire place was a lot messier than the communal kitchen. It looked like some mix between a witches cottage and a mess hall in a school cafeteria. But it didn't smell as bad.Â
Instead it smelt of cinnamon, oranges, rosemary and cookies.Â
And somehow
It was relaxing to him.Â
âPenny for your thoughts?â
Logan looked up to find you standing at the other end of the kitchen, a bowl under one arm and a spoon in the other. Flour was dusted across your face and your hands were splotched with food colouring stains. Which matched the batch of rainbow coloured cookies behind you.Â
âErr, no. I was just-â
âHere, sit. Iâll make you some tea.â
âI donât really drink..tea.âÂ
Logan was still taking in the room. Every time he looked back to a spot, he found a new detail to it. Extra herbs, or ingredients, or even flowers.Â
You smiled, placing down the bowl and spoon before moving across the kitchen to the simmering pot on the stove.Â
âHere, try this.â
âOh, I, uh-â
âJust drink it.â You sighed a little, with a light smile. Nobody would have to meet Logan to know he wasnât a tea drinker. But he was also polite enough to accept a drink.Â
And he did.Â
âIs this where you work?â
You nodded, going back to the fresh batch of cookies you needed to start scooping out.Â
âDo you usually work this late past midnight?â
You chuckled a little to yourself. âSometimes. Mostly itâs because I think of a new recipe and want to try it out when no-one's gonna disturb me.â
âAm I disturbing you?â
âNo. Plus, I heard you coming down the stairs. Figured it wouldnât be long before you found another night owl.â
Logan grunted with a soft chuckle. âI donât think itâs intentional being a night owl.â
You shrugged. âWe all have our reasons.â
Logan nodded and took another gulp of his tea. If he thought he felt relaxed when he walked into the kitchen, he didnât have a word for what he was feeling after the tea.Â
âHey, whatâs in this tea?â
âNot much. Chamomile mostly.â
Logan nodded. But then something shifted. He was getting drowsy. Not relaxed. Not sleepy. Drowsy.Â
âHey, what did you put in this?â
Logan went to stand and repeat his question, but he was out like a light before he could finish.Â
Logan, for the first timeâŚever, woke up slowly. From the light that came flooding in through his window, to slowly turning over and feeling the bones in his body crack just right to allow his joints to feel at ease, to not thinking a thing as his brain slowly turned back into gear.Â
Then he jerked up.Â
With a grunt, he looked around him.Â
He was in his room.Â
The last thing he could remember was your tea and the kitchen.Â
Flinging the covers from him, he tore his way out of his room and down the hallways until he finally reached his destination.Â
The Professorâs office.Â
Walking inside, he found the situation entirely too calm.Â
âAh, good morning Logan. Glad to see youâre finally awake.â
âWhat the hell happened?âÂ
âYou fell asleep. Y/n helped put you to bed before you collapsed on her kitchen floor.â
Logan turned at that moment to find you sat on the sofa by the window inside the office.Â
âYou.â Logan practically snarled. âYou did something. What did you do?â
Logan approached you but where anyone else would have flinched, you didnât. In fact, all you did was sit back further and smile up at him.Â
âShe didnât do anything, Logan. You needed to sleep.â
Logan turned and looked at the Professor. âDonât mean I have to be drugged.â
Then you stood. âIt was just a little tea, Logan. The more exhausted you are, the faster and harder it works. But now you look more rested. Your skin looks less like youâve been thrown into a washing machine for a couple spins.â
âAre you always this blunt?â
You smiled. âItâs part of my charm.â
âAinât nothing charming about this conversation, doll.â
âReally? Because Iâm finding this thrilling.â
Professor X smiled. âOkay, thatâs enough, you two.â
âShe started it!â
You just smiled again. âYouâre welcome. If you ever need more tea, you know where to find me.â
With a pat to his arm, you walked past him and said your goodbyes to the professor before heading for the door.Â
âDonât worry about it, you can keep your tea.â
âHave to admit, though. I did help.â
Internally, reluctantly, he did have to. Because despite everything, it was one of the best nights of sleep heâd ever had.Â
Another week rolled by and despite Logan doing everything he could to avoid the woman that he still considered had drugged him to sleep, he seemed to see more of you.Â
Turns out, you taught cooking and baking classes to the students so they could at least make themselves a decent meal every once in a while instead of quick ramen noodles. And you also taught outdoor survival skills which Xavier had Logan help sub in with.Â
But this also meant, much to his chagrin, Logan was actually starting to like you.Â
Rather than wanting to storm off in the other direction, he wasnât annoyed by your presence in the room anymore and you definitely had a way with teaching a group of rowdy teenagers who would rather do anything other than learn normal âcampâ things.Â
It was actually entertaining watching you teach your students. And even he learnt a thing or two.
Another week passed and Logan found himself back in your kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island, watching you as you lent one palm on the counter top, a pencil between your teeth and two pens behind one of your ears.Â
âWant some tea?â You asked him after a few minutes of content silence.Â
âAre you going to drug me again?â
You rolled your eyes. âItâs store bought, Logan. I just added a couple extra things.â
âReally, like what?â
Sighing, with a slight smirk, you turned around and pulled the box of tea from the cabinet before throwing it at Logan from over your shoulder. âRead it. It tells you what to add.â
âThey actually sell this stuff?â
You turned back to your messy notebook with a smile. âIt helps when your grandmother worked in the tea business for forty years. All the tricks of the trade, passed down through generations.â
Logan watched you work- no, dance around the kitchen. You didnât even have to look at what you were doing and before he knew it, there was another tea in front of him, in a glass mug with hand-painted roasting logs on it.Â
Logan looked at it for a moment and then you spoke up, without looking in his direction. âBeing a night owl means different hobbies can be created. Glass painting was one of them.â
Logan shrugged with a nod before drinking his tea. The effects werenât as quick or as âviolentâ as the first time. Instead, it was calming, then relaxing, then just plain and simple tiredness.Â
âGo to bed, Logan. Before you crash into my floor again.â
âHow did you get me to bed the last time? Iâm not exactly all flesh and blood.â
You shrugged. âIâm stronger than I might look to you. But, go to bed, Logan.â
âWill you?â
âWill I do what?â
âGo to bed, too?â
You turned and faced him. âSoon. I want to finish this up first.â
âWhat are you even doing?â
âNew recipe. I shouldnât be long. Look, I promise. Twenty minutes, Iâll be in my bed, fast asleep.â
Logan raised his brow for a moment but then stood. If he waited any longer, he might actually crash onto the floor again.Â
âOkay, fine.â
And you stuck to your word. Logan heard your footsteps coming up the stairs less than ten minutes later and after thatâŚhe didnât remember much other than just complete calmness and sleep.Â
The next couple of nights followed the same pattern. And even if he still wasnât a tea drinker, Logan was growing a (small) taste for it.Â
Until one night he walked in and found you stood in the corner, changing your t-shirt.Â
You already wore a cami top underneath most of your t-shirts anyway â especially in the kitchen, but your first one had gotten too messy. So you were safe when changing. Except, you hadnât expected Logan to walk in when he did.Â
He paused for a minute by the door, a little apprehensive to make himself known but also trying to do so, so it wouldnât seem like he was just watching you change your top t-shirt. But at the same time, he didnât want you to know he was standing there because he could finally look at you.Â
More so, when he saw your shoulder.Â
From your left shoulder spread and faded over the top and to your right, a mark similar to a burn. The skin was scarred, yet healed over. A forgotten memory. The strap of your top cut through the larger scar that ran directly across the middle of the scarred skin, almost in a wave. Parts were redder than others but you didnât seem to be in pain as you pulled the t-shirt over the top of your head and down your body, covering it back up.Â
Logan coughed as he entered and you turned around, greeting him as you did every night.Â
âNew recipe?â
You nodded, looking at the messy t-shirt in your hand. âYeah, it didn't go over too well with the mixer.â
âBetter luck next time.â
And then you both justâŚtalked.Â
You were slowly telling him a little more about yourself each night, even if you didnât know it yet.Â
âI just remember being thrown into the wall and waking up like an hour later, completely covered in green brownie batter.â
You both laughed as you told him the story, but then he asked.Â
âIs that where the scar is from? On your back?â
It was almost as if you had forgotten about it, having to take a moment to realise what he was talking about.
âOh, that. No, thatâŚthatâs nothing important.â
Logan knew to drop his line of questioning. If you said it was nothing important, then there was no way of getting you to talk about it.Â
Until the day he found you napping on the sofa.Â
Everyone was outside for the day considering it was winter break and fresh snow had finally fallen on the ground. Except, you had opted to stay inside, and fell asleep on one of the central sofas in one of the quieter communal areas.Â
The large windows let a lot of natural light flood in, and the fire that was crackling away in the fireplace was enough to heat the room, especially when the door was closed.Â
And it wasnât long before the quiet hum of the fire and odd crackle of the wood, mixed with the heat and your lack of sleep, overtook you and you fell asleep. You didnât even wake when your book dropped from your hand and onto the floor.Â
âHey, Y/n, theyâre all-â
Logan stopped in his tracks when he saw you.Â
Fast asleep.Â
He was careful to remain quiet as he walked over to you, cutting between you and the coffee table to pick up your fallen book and place it safely onto the table, where he sat on the edge and took a minute to justâŚmemorise you.Â
Since he met you, you had done nothing but be moving. All the time. From the crack of dawn to nightfall, you were constantly going and running and teaching and baking and doing andâŚhell, for all he knew, you could be something other than mutant or human â even those two needed sleep at some point.Â
Hell, even he needed sleep.Â
But you were just constantly forever going.Â
Lay on your left side, your elbow tucked under your head, you were lightly snoring. Logan brushed the stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face, away, his hand rested on your cheek for a moment, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone for a second.Â
You were fast asleep.Â
Your worn Beatles band-tee was twisted slightly around your middle, whilst the waist of your jeans had twisted in the opposite direction a little, leaving a small gap that showed Logan the redness from the indent marks of where you had been lay, probably, on your other hip for a while.Â
Logan thought about covering you up, and leaving you where you were, for a moment. But he also knew you could be like him when it came to sleep. And it was best to get it when you could. So, rather than chance the kids coming back in and waking you up, he made a decision.Â
You flinched a little in your sleep as he spoke to you and lifted you from the sofa. It wasnât long before he found your room and laid you into bed before covering you up.Â
Once more, he brushed the hair from your eyes as you turned onto your side again.Â
He looked around for a moment before finding what he was looking for.Â
A heavy blanket.Â
He lay it over the top of your bedcovers and you, before moving across the room to light the fireplace.Â
Only, as he did so and placed the fireguard in front, you whimpered.Â
He turned around but you were still.Â
Then you whimpered again.Â
âNo,â you whispered.Â
Logan moved over to you quickly and quietly as he could. You fell silent again.Â
He let out a small breath and covered you up a little more before leaning down. He didnât know why, but he pressed a small kiss to your temple before walking away.Â
Except you reached out for his hand.Â
Logan looked down at his hand that was connected with yours, then to you. You were still asleep.Â
But it didnât look like it was a good dream.Â
You were shaking. Your entire body seemed to be paralysed with fear, all the while you were mumbling words Logan just couldnât quite make out.Â
Then the glass of water by your bed started shaking. Then the table it was on. Then your bed. Then the floor. Whatever was happening to you was spreading throughout your room.Â
A picture that had been hanging on the wall outside, fell to the floor.Â
Quickly turning back to you, Logan took hold of your shoulder. He kept calling your name but it was like you couldnât hear him.Â
âPleaseâŚplease donât hurt them. Please.â You screamed and then grunted in pain. Whatever was happening in your nightmare, you were being hurt. Badly.Â
âHey, Y/N! Hey, youâre okay! Youâre safe! Youâre in New York. Youâre at school! Itâs not real, Y/N. None of it is real.â
Your head shifted. You were searching.Â
âIâm right here. None of it is real. You need to wake up.â
âLâŚLogan?âÂ
The violent shaking in your room slowed for a moment.
He was shocked. MaybeâŚ
âJust follow my voice. Itâs just a nightmare. I canât get into your head and bring you out. JustâŚfollow my voice.â
The shaking around your room gradually slowed, but you still were. Then your eyes opened.Â
And glowed.Â
They were still your eyes justâŚbrighter.Â
âLogan?!â
He had stopped speaking. You were panicking.Â
âItâs okay. Youâre safe. Iâm right here.â Logan took hold of your hand and held it tighter. âYouâre safe.â
The shaking slowed and your eyes closed again.Â
Then everything stopped.Â
Everything went silent.Â
Logan looked at the glass of water beside your bed. It was like it had never moved.Â
Then you gasped and shot up from your bed. You kicked your legs and brought your hands behind you to push yourself up and the covers from you.Â
âWhoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, Y/n. Hey,âÂ
You were gasping for breath, dizzy from your nightmare.Â
âHey, itâs me. Whoa. Hey, look at me. Itâs Logan.â
He took you by your shoulders then your face.Â
âItâs Logan.â
You finally calmed a little, and he watched your eyes search his entire face until you finally recognised him.Â
âLogan,â you breathed.Â
âYeahâŚâ
Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms around him. His hand held the back of your head and his other round your back, pressing you further into him. He could still feel your body trembling.Â
âWhat happened?â
âYou had a nightmare.â Logan told you. âThe room started shaking and I tried waking you up.â
You took a couple of breaths before moving back and pushed the hair from your face and curled your legs up closer to your chest.Â
Logan, sat beside them, placed one of his hands on your knee and the other in your right hand.Â
âWhat happened?â
You shook your head. âNothing-â
âThe entire room started shaking and your eyes glowed. Thatâs not ânothing importantâ, Y/n.â
You swallowed and nodded your head before dropping your gaze and shifting until you were sat up, crossed-legged.Â
Logan remained where he was, sat on the edge of your bed.Â
âBefore I worked as a teacher and cook here, I was one of them.â The last four words came out slowly, almost like you had to convince yourself you were saying them out loud. âI was an X-Man. I was a part of the team.â
âSo what happened?â
âThe usual. A mission gone wrong.â
âAnd thatâs what the nightmaresâŚâ
You nodded. âIt was the mission that made me retire. They needed me to do a job, and I couldnât do it. There were kids, mutants, being held captive. Some rich dick thought he could duplicate mutants. As the team went it, I was meant to be holding ground outside, helping them find their way through. Only, I didnât shut off my power. We knew they had someone who could detect me if I didnât. I got so focused on trying to find the kids, trying to make sure the team got to them that the team almostâŚâ
You paused for a minute. You hadnât told anyone this story. Ever.Â
Logan took your hand. âItâs okay. Itâs just me.â
You let Loganâs touch soak into your skin. A memory youâd never forget yet never truly remember why you never would forget.Â
âThey almost died, Logan.â You looked at him and he could see the tears behind your eyes, threatening to come forward and fall again. âEveryone almost died, because I didnât shut it down. You asked about the scar, the one on my back?â
Logan nodded. He didnât like where this was going.Â
âItâs from that day. One of their scientists had set off some kind of power..thing. Sent me flying blocks away from where I was supposed to be. I crash landed into some old wooden panelling which knocked me down. But once I got upâŚtheir Superhuman had found me.â
âWas he the one that-â
You nodded, remembering it as if it was yesterday. âI was thrown, this time on my front. I tried to get up but then all I felt was pure fire. He was burning me. Giving me a reminder of why âsomeone like me, born with the powers of godsâ shouldnât have them when I was clearly so âweakâ. By the time he stopped, I realised where he was going. And by the time I got up, everything justâŚblew up.â
âY/n, everyoneâs safe. Youâre all here. Donât you teach some of those kids?â
You nodded. âDoesnât mean I donât forget that feeling. One of the kids had been watching the guards, tracking their materials to find a way out. If they hadn't done thatâŚthey wouldnât have gotten out, Logan. And they almost didnât. All because I couldnât fight. I canât be the reason why I lose my family and the people I love.â
The tears came forward now, streaming down your face at an unstoppable speed.Â
âI just canât.â
Logan shook his head, pushing himself closer to you to hold you. And you let him. Leaning into him, you felt his arms grow tighter around your body. There was a small security in his arms, one that you hadnât felt in a long time.Â
âNone of that was your fault.â Logan told you. âI know you and I know this team. You would never intentionally hurt people. And forgetting to turn your powers off? Weâve all made mistakes in moments like that. Sometimes you get so focused on one person, you tend to lose all sense of self. But none of that was your fault. They got out. Theyâre all here. Theyâre all alive. And rich dick is spending his life as dust in the fucking wind.â
âBelieve me, Iâll be the first to tell you changing your feelings on something wonât stop the nightmares.â Logan continued. âBut you need to find a way to let it go. Donât let them control you. Not when you won. Not when youâre here, with everyone, able to drug me with some store bought tea.â
You laughed a little at that, wiping your tears away before Logan did the same thing, brushing his thumb underneath your eye and across your cheek. Logan smiled a little. Others might have called it a muscle flex, but knowing Logan; it was a small, brief smile.Â
âDonât let them win.â
You nodded, your head still in his hands.Â
âLogan? Will youâŚCan you stay?â
It seemed to take Logan a second to find his answer. What you couldnât see was that most of that time, he was trying to figure out why his answer came as fast as it did for him.Â
âYou donât-â
âI can stay.â
You looked up at him and nodded with a slight smile.Â
Moments later, Logan had kicked his shoes off and was lying beside you in bed.Â
âLogan?â
âYeah?â
You took his hand that lay between you both and turned your head to look at him.Â
âThank you for staying.â
It was his turn to turn his head and when he did, he felt something. The same feeling heâd been getting since the day you gave him his first cup of tea.Â
Logan just nodded before lifting his arm. âCome here.â
You moved closer to him as he lifted the covers a little so you could do so. Then he dropped his arm around your back, his palm flush against its centre before it slid a little lower to hold you by your waist.Â
As your head settled close to his chest, he dropped his head a little, leaning his jaw against the top of your head and as he felt you relax and close your eyes, he did the same thing.Â
The moment your breathing became even, and he knew you were asleep, Logan settled back down and held you just a little tighter against him as he closed his eyes and joined you in a dreamless sleep.Â
Hours passed and Charles hadnât seen either you or Logan in hours. But when he spotted a picture frame that had fallen onto the floor, just outside of your room, he sped as quickly as he could down the hall, but paused when he saw the door open and a sight he didnât think heâd get to witness for at least a few more months.Â
From the hallway, Charles peered in to find the snow falling heavily outside of your window. The children and other teachers were still outside playing. The fire had died down a little, but even he could feel the heat from the room.Â
And in the middle of the left hand wall through the door, was your bed.Â
Where yourself and Logan slept soundly, almost as one. With your face and hand on his chest, and his arm around your waist, whilst his other hand held onto your arm in a soft grip, keeping your hand on him.Â
Xavier could practically feel the serenity oozing from the pair of you. He knew Logan was troubled and that you yourself hadnât felt safe or content in a long time.Â
And he would never have to tell Logan of the change you brought to him, or the one he brought to you. The change that helped you feel safe again, content again. Happy again. Without the added feeling that something was about to go off kilter.Â
Because Logan already knew.Â
And so did you.Â
And for Logan, no matter how many times you would tell him you were ânobody importantâ, you would always be important to him.Â
#wolverine x reader#logan x reader#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x fe!reader#logan x fe!reader#logan howlett x fe!reader#x-men#x men x reader#charles xavier#logan wolverine#marvel#mcu#fluff#angst#strangers to lovers#forced proximity#early x men movies#falling in love#mutants#x men mutants#powerful reader#reader has powers#wolverine#the wolverine#logan#logan howlett
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look me in the eye | pt.2
pairing: max verstappen x rbr!engineer!reader
summary: the rb21 is unfixable but that's definitely not the only reason max verstappen wants you around.
a/n: "who cares what they think" bf and overthinker gf are my roman empire
part one / part two / part three
ââ ⢠ăťâ¸â¸
Max doesn't give you much of a choice.
One minute, you're wrapping up post-race debriefs with your teammates, pretending that you're not reeling from his reaction to your possible departure. They're very polite and do not pry into the conversation they all obviously heard. The next, he's standing by the garage exit, jacket in hand, waiting.
"Dinner," he says. Itâs not a request.
You hesitate, glancing around. "I mean, I don't think-"
"I need to talk to you." His words are softer but still determined. "Properly. Not in the garage. Not with twenty people listening."
Your stomach twists. You should say no. You should.
Instead, you find yourself sitting across from him in a dimly lit restaurant, the scent of freshly baked bread and seared steak filling the air. It's nothing fancy. Fancy means attention. It's quiet, tucked away, the kind of place he probably picked because he assumed no one would bother him here.
But Max Verstappen is not someone who goes unnoticed.
Right now he's focused, barely glancing at the menu. It feels more like a business arrangement than a catch-up. That's how it's meant to be. Max is, in the hierarchy pyramid, somewhere a few diagonal triangles above you.
"Tell me what you need," he says as his fingers tap restlessly against the table. "More support? More control over the car setup? I'll talk to Christian."
You sigh, setting your menu down. "Max, it's not just about that. It's-"
A hushed voice at a nearby table. A phone camera clicks and, judging by the kerfuffle that follows, the person who pressed the button didn't expect it to be so loud.
Your stomach drops. Max's gaze flickers over your shoulder, jaw tightening as realization dawns.
"Shit," he mutters.
You don't turn around. You don't need to. The whispers are getting louder, the occasional giggle or gasp confirming what you already know-someone recognized him. And worse? They recognized you.
Your chest tightens. This is exactly what you didn't want. Attention. Speculation. The internet dissecting every detail of why Red Bull's star driver is having dinner with one of the team's engineers. Especially after that interview. Two things that should not be happening in quick succession.
Max leans forward and his voice is low. "Hey."
You shake your head, gripping your napkin like it's a lifeline. "I need to go."
"If you leave now, itâll be worse."
You know he's right. Storming out will just make it look more suspicious. But that doesnât stop the anxiety creeping up your spine.
Max studies you for a moment before making a decision. He leans back, body language shifting, a small smirk curling at the corner of his lips. Then, loud enough for the nearby table to hear-
"You're overthinking. Just enjoy your food."
It's so casual, so normal, that for a split second, it throws you off. And judging by the way the whispers fade just a little, it throws everyone else off too.
Max is playing it cool. Acting like this is nothing, just a casual dinner, nothing worth speculating over.
You swallow hard, forcing yourself to match his energy. You pick up your menu again, even though you're too tense to focus on the words. "Fine," you sigh. "But if this ends up all over Twitter, I'm blaming you."
His grin deepens. "I'll take full responsibility."
Under the table, where no one can see, his fingers graze against yours. It's only for a second. It's probably an accident, you tell yourself.
You look into his eyes and you know it means so much more than just that.
ââ ⢠ăťâ¸â¸
You wake up to chaos.
Your phone won't stop buzzing. The messages, missed calls, and notifications stacking up faster than you can process. At first, you think it's just another race week frenzy. Then you open Twitter.
Max Verstappen on a dinner date with Red Bull engineer. Garage romance?
Attached is the photo. A little grainy, taken from the next table over, but unmistakably you and Max. He's leaning in, smirking, looking far too comfortable across from you. You're gripping your menu like you were ready to bolt.
There are too comments to keep track of.
user1 she's been in the garage w him all season user2 Bro is dating his own engineer to fix the car đđđ user3 i fear they look GOOD together user4 is she the one he slipped up about in the interview??
You barely register the rest before Christian Horner is calling you. You pick up immediately instead of letting him go to voicemail. This is bad.
"Do you know what's happening online?"
You pinch the bridge of your nose. "I just saw it."
He breathes loudly-you can hear it over the phone. "Look, we don't comment on personal lives, but if anyone asks, we stick to the story. It was a casual team dinner, nothing more. Max's team is probably already handling it."
Max.
As if on cue, another message flashes across your screen.
Unknown It's Max
Unknown Don't look at twitter
Too late.
By the time you get to the paddock, the damage is done. Journalists are already circling, cameras flashing whenever you so much as breathe near Max's side of the garage. You stick next to Liam's car. You don't know what you're doing there, but he kind of does and pretends to talk with you about something he doesn't understand either. Good lad.
You keep your head down, pretending not to notice the murmurs. When you step into the engineering office, Max is already waiting.
He's scrolling through his phone. You can't see anything behind those startling blue-green eyes of his. You still can't when he looks up. "They're making a big deal out of nothing."
You exhale. "I'm trending on Twitter."
He shrugs, completely unfazed. "And?"
You blink. "And? Do you know what people are saying? That I'm-â You lower your voice. âThat I'm sleeping with you for my job. That youâre-â
"Using you to fix the car?" His lips press together. Now his eyes darken, the sky before the storm. "Bullshit. Do they not know how engineers work? They fix the car anyway."
You shake your head. "It doesn't matter if it's bullshit. It's out there."
Max crosses his arms. "So?"
"So?" you echo, incredulous. "I don't want this. I don't want my name attached to you like I'm some stupid tabloid headline!"
He seems to read you. "Do you think I wanted it either? I just wanted dinner. I wanted to talk to you, convince you not to leave. Not...this."
Your anger deflates. You can't be mad at him. People are people.
Max pushes off the desk and steps closer. "Tell you what. If you want, I'll shut it down. Tell them all it's nothing, that it was just a stupid meal. That you mean nothing to me."
The words sting even though you know he doesnât mean them.
You swallow hard. "Would you?"
His jaw tightens. "If thatâs what you want."
You should say yes. You should. But he's the one waiting for you to make a choice-the choice-and you're frozen.
"I don't know," you whisper.
Is that relief you see on his face?
"Then we don't say anything."
ââ ⢠ăťâ¸â¸
The orange army has risen, and it's not McLaren's. The checkered flag waves, and above the screaming engines and the crackling of team radios, one thing is clear: Max Verstappen has won again.
Against the odds, against the struggles, against a car that has fought him all season, he has done what Max Verstappen does best.
He has won.
The Red Bull garage erupts. Engineers shout, mechanics throw their arms around each other, and the pit wall slams their hands down in victory. You barely register the chaos because your eyes are glued to the screens, watching as Max slows down on his cool-down lap, his voice breaking through the radio.
"YES, LET'S GO!" His laugh is breathless. "That was so, so good. Thank you, guys. Thank you."
You exhale. He did it. You don't even recognize the warm feeling going through you because suddenly, he's there.
Before you can even process it, Max is sprinting toward the garage, helmet ripped off, his fireproofs half-unzipped and clinging to his sweat-drenched skin. There's no hesitation, no second-guessing-shouldn't he be out there?-as he skids next to you.
Your heart lurches.
You don't even have time to move before he reaches you, before his hands find your waist and he pulls you in.
"Max-" Your protest dies in your throat because holy shit he's so close. His breath is warm against your skin, adrenaline pouring off him in waves.
"You," he pants, eyes wild and utterly alive. "You made that happen."
You shake your head, flustered beyond belief. "Max, you-"
But he cuts you off, hands tightening like he's afraid you'll slip away. "No. You fought for this car. You never stopped." He swallows, chest rising and falling. "I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here."
You feel every nerve in your body short-circuiting.
Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Just static.
Max searches your face. He looks at you as he does his father, after a race is over. Like this win doesn't mean as much if you aren't part of it. There is one person in the world he cares about making happy...might there be a second?
Youâre completely, utterly speechless.
"Lost for words?" he teases.
You shove at his chest, but your laughter betrays you. "Shut up, Verstappen."
You untangle yourself from his grasp and motion for him to greet some other of the team members. The media must be having a field day. And after the entire PR talk, too.
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The celebrations are still in full swing when Max is pulled into an interview. The champagne drips from his hair as a permanent grin is stretched across his face. He's still breathless, still buzzing, still high off the win.
The reporter from Sky Sports barely has to ask the first question before Max is already talking.
"Max, that was an incredible drive. How does it feel to take this victory after the struggles youâve had with the car?"
Max laughs easily. "Yeah, it wasn't easy. The car still isn't perfect, but today, it worked. And that's not just me, that's the team, that's the people who keep pushing-"
His words cut off for a second, his mind catching up to his own excitement. His tongue is loose, his filter nonexistent.
And then-
"-that's her."
The interviewer blinks. "Who?"
Max doesn't hesitate. "My engineer."
Oh.
Oh, shit.
Your stomach drops as you watch from the back of the garage, eyes wide as the cameras zoom in on him. He's still grinning, still glowing, and either he doesn't realize what he just said or he does not care.
"She-" he stops himself, shaking his head like he can't find the right words. "She works harder than anyone. Every problem with this car, she's been on it. I mean, I was nowhere at the start of the season, and now, we're here. If anyone deserves credit, it's her."
The reporter raises an eyebrow. "That's very high praise. Would you say she's been a crucial part of your season?"
Max tips his head back in his laughter, and it's so obvious now, the way he's still running on instinct, how he's still in the moment.
"She's been-" He stops, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. And then, softer-too soft for someone who's just talking about an engineer-he finishes:
"She's everything."
The interviewer's eyes widen slightly, and thereâs a second-just a second-where you see the exact moment he realizes what he just let slip. Max's lips press together, like maybe if he stops talking now, the words will somehow erase themselves. But the damage is already done.
Your heart slams against your ribs.
Max turns his head like he can see you in the garage. He's searching, looking for you.
You panic. You run.
But the world has already heard him. You're not just another engineer.
You're Max Verstappen's everything.
ââ ⢠ăťâ¸â¸
The second you step back into the Red Bull garage, cheeks flushed from your bathroom pacing and breakdown, you know you're screwed.
The looks. The whispers. The way people pretend not to be staring but are absolutely staring. Because, of course, everyone saw the interview.
The moment Max Verstappen, three-time world champion, winner of the race, decided to open his mouth and say-
"She's everything."
You could kill him.
Scratch that. You will kill him.
Your heart is still hammering from the moment you heard it, from the way he looked for you afterward, like he wasn't even the slightest bit embarrassed about saying something that made it sound like-like-you don't even know what it sounded like, but it was definitely not normal driver-engineer talk.
And now, here you are, trying to avoid eye contact with every single person in the garage while searching for the idiot responsible.
It doesn't take long.
Max, being Max, doesn't bother hiding. He's standing by the monitors, still in his fireproofs, arms crossed over his chest, looking completely unbothered. He should be celebrating. Why is he not out celebrating?
He's still waiting for you.
The moment he sees you, his expression shifts. Something smug, something amused, something that makes you want to strangle him.
You grab his arm and yank him into the nearest private space you can find.
"Max," you hiss, barely able to contain yourself. "What the hell was that?"
His brows furrow. "What?"
"What?" you repeat. "You-on live television-you called me everything."
Max blinks, looking so utterly relaxed that you want to shake him. "Yeah."
You stare at him, waiting for him to realize the problem, to acknowledge that he just threw you to the media wolves with zero warning.
Nothing. Just calm, slightly confused Max Verstappen.
"You do realize what that sounded like, right?" You press, feeling your face heat up. "Everyone's losing their minds. Twitter is exploding. Horner gave me a look. Do you know how scary it is when Christian Horner gives you a look?"
Maxâs lips twitch. He's fighting a smirk and he's not winning. "I mean⌠was I wrong?"
"What?"
He tilts his head, like he's considering his words. "You are everything. To this team. To the car. To-" He stops himself, but itâs already too late.
He knows exactly what he said.
"Max-"
"Tell me I'm wrong."
You can't, because he isn't. Maybe you've known it all along. Maybe this is why you can't leave the stupid team, even though it's causing hair loss and severe lack of sleep.
So you don't. Instead, you grab him by the collar and pull him down. Max lets out the softest, most relieved exhale before he crashes into you.
It's not a soft kiss. It's not careful, or hesitant, or anything close to restrained. It's desperate. It's months of tension snapping all at once.
You make a soft noise-half surprise, half something else entirely-and that's all it takes.
Max groans, deep and low, like he's wanted this for as long as you have, and suddenly it's worse, because now he's tilting his head, deepening the kiss, pressing you back until you hit the nearest surface.
You don't even know where you are anymore. A storage closet? A backroom? It doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is him. The way he tastes like champagne and adrenaline, the way he kisses like he races. All-consuming and with only one thing on his mind.
You should stop. You know you should stop. The entire garage is just outside. Someone will notice. Someone will hear.
You thread your fingers into his hair, tugging just slightly, and Max shudders.
"Fuck," he mutters against your lips, utterly wrecked. His eyelids flutter, long lashes too. Max runs a finger down to your chin, forcing you to look at him. "You're overthinking again."
He's completely right. But you don't stop then. You relax and just let Max Verstappen take over every single thought in your mind.
ââ ⢠ăťâ¸â¸
a/n: i just need a man who's bad at emotions but also so good at them
#formula one#max verstappen x reader#formula one x reader#f1 x you#f1#max verstappen#x reader#oikarma áŻáĄŁđŠ
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