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winter-dayz · 1 year ago

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A Year Together

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Inspired by Holidate (2020) Genre: Angst; Fluff Words: 5574 Warnings: mentions of excessive drinking, smoking, and drug usage; strong language; suggestive content

Masterlist | 12 Days of Ficmas Masterpost

Taglist: @soobin-chois

She stubbed out her cigarette, sprayed on some perfume, and huffed into the cold air, before gathering the courage to enter her childhood home.

“Merry Christmas,” she called, barely over a speaking voice, hoping no one heard her.

Her mother rounded the corner, displeasure written plain as day. “Finally.” She glanced over her daughter, eyes narrowing on Y/N’s hoodie and leggings. “This is what you’re wearing for Christmas dinner? Would it kill you to dress up a little?”

Y/N ignored her mom’s criticism, as she had for years, and looked around at the meticulous decorations. “The house looks beautiful.”

She hummed, motioning her daughter to follow her. “No thanks to you or your aunt. She brought a date, at least, unlike you.”

“Speaking of plus-ones…” Y/N’s older sister, Nayeon, cut in. She pulled Y/N to the kitchen. “Why didn’t you call Seungmin?

“I just wasn’t feeling it.”

Nayeon sighed, “It’s been six months. Eventually, you have to start dating again.”

“I mean who’s surprised no one wants to take her out when she just sits at home looking like that,” their mother snarked, coming into the kitchen.

Y/N’s eye twitched, the urge to smoke rising. “I work from home, Mother. My boss and coworkers don’t care if I wear pajamas. You know what they do care about? You constantly calling while I’m working.”

She ignored her daughter and leaned closer. “Are you still smoking? You’re going to die alone for sure then. No man wants a smoker who can’t be bothered to dress well.” Her mother scowled at her and left the room, Nayeon in tow.

Y/N rolled her eyes, throwing her drink back, and mumbled to herself. “And no man wants a bitchy mother-in-law either. So, I guess that’s three strikes.”

The rest of the afternoon and evening went exactly as she expected.

When her brother, Jeongin, arrived, he lightly taunted her about showing up alone again. His girlfriend, Chaeryeong, scolded him for teasing someone for being sad. Y/N insisted she wasn’t sad. Then Nayeon’s husband asked her why she didn’t just call Seungmin. She had tried to argue back but was interrupted by her mother calling everyone to open presents—Y/N received dresses from her mom that didn’t fit, pajamas from her sister that were definitely a regift, and a gift card from her brother. When Y/N managed to escape (finally) from the judgment of her family, she refilled her drink in the kitchen, and her aunt joined her.

“Isn’t he so fun?” Her aunt giggled drunkenly, nodding in the direction of her date playing with some of Y/N’s nieces. “He’s Santa at the mall this year. You’d be surprised about the kind of men you can meet there.” Y/N didn’t respond, not wanting to come across as judgy as her mother was of everyone, but her aunt sensed the hint of criticism anyway. “Calm down. I’m not gonna marry the guy. He’s my holidate.”

Y/N laughed lightly, “What is a ‘holidate’?”

“A date just for the holidays. No commitment, no strings attached. Just fun.”

Y/N hummed but didn’t get a chance to respond as dinner was announced to be ready. She wasn’t even surprised to find herself at the kids’ table.

“Could I have everyone’s attention?” Jeongin asked from the main dining room. Y/N stood from the kids’ table just in time to see Jeongin kneeling before his girlfriend. “Lee Chaeryeong…” Y/N felt her eyes widen, her head shaking no. Her baby brother couldn’t be getting engaged before her… “Will you do the honor of becoming my wife and marrying me?”

“Fuck no…” Y/N whispered to herself as Chaeryeong jumped up with an excited “Yes! Oh my god, yes!”

“Two down… One to go.” Y/N’s mother smiled at the young couple before flicking a snide glare to Y/N in the doorway.

🎄

It was in line at some store in the mall a few days later that she met him.

Chan had been trying to return khakis that were very much not his style, and Y/N was trying to return the dresses and pajamas she had gotten. They had gotten to chatting about their awful Christmases, when her aunt’s Christmas date recognized her.

“Have your aunt call me!” The man called out, Y/N embarrassedly pulling Chan away from the food court.

“So what was the deal with that?” Chan laughed goodnaturedly.

“He was my aunt’s holidate.”

“Wait, wait… A holidate? Like a date for Christmas, or does it work for all holidays?”

Y/N shrugged, “I assume all of them. But then again, my aunt doesn’t stick around with one man long so she might find a new one for Easter.”

Chan breathed out a laugh, “That’s what I need for New Year’s…”

“Why would you need a holidate?” Chan glanced over at her in confusion, and she shrugged. “I can’t imagine you’d really have that much trouble finding a date. You’re extremely good-looking. You seem sweet. Look pretty dependable… I mean, you have dimples for Christ’s sake! That’s every girl’s dream!”

Chan hummed, “I’m also a workaholic.”

“Oh…” Y/N nodded, “Okay, I get it.”

“And casually dating on the holidays…” Chan shook his head, “It just becomes a lot of pressure. People expect more than I can give them, especially once the holiday is over.”

“That sucks… Try being the only single person left in your family, though. I’m so fucking sick of the pity party and them trying to set me up.”

“I get why they do it though. They don’t want you alone on the holidays… We’re not meant to be alone. Humans need companionship, warmth… someone to drunk-mock strangers with at parties.”

“I do enjoy drunk-mocking strangers at parties…”

“Great, so be my holidate for New Year’s.”

A laugh bubbled out of Y/N, “I don’t even really know you.”

Chan stuck a hand out to her, a big grin with crescent eyes and dimples shining. “Hi, I’m Chrisopher Bang. I go by Chan, though. I’m a music producer. A perfectionist and workaholic. I have VIP tickets to the JY New Year’s party. Would you like to go with me?” When she hesitated, he pulled out a business card and passed it to her, “Think about it? There’s no pressure, no expectations. I mean…” He cleared his throat and darted his eyes away for a moment, “I don’t even find you that attractive so no worries there either.”

“Wow. I’m so flattered.” Y/N scoffed, snatching the card.

The tips of Chan’s ears colored red, but Y/N didn’t notice as she stared at his business card. “Just think about it and text me.”

Y/N hummed and shook her head, waving him off as she headed to her car. She would think about it, but she definitely wasn’t going to text him…

Well, she probably wouldn’t have. Except the next day her mom video-called her while she was working and proceeded to berate her for wearing another hoodie (even though she was just working from home and had no virtual meetings that day). After the berating was done, she moved on to trying to insist that Y/N go on a date with their new neighbor, Felix. It ended with Y/N snapping that she already had a New Year’s date and hanging up on her mother to make a new call.

She heard the smile in Chan’s voice as he answered, “Hello~ I thought I said text me, not call me.”

🎄

Y/N pointed out another couple from their balcony booth. “They’re for sure getting engaged at midnight.”

“You think?” Chan asked, sipping his fifth? sixth? drink. Y/N nodded, finishing her own and taking new glasses from a passing waiter.

At some point the conversation turned away from drunk-mocking strangers to their thoughts on romantic comedies.

“So who ruined love for you?” Chan asked, leaning in close so Y/N could hear him.

She shook her head vehemently. “You don’t really wanna hear about him.”

“Why not?” Chan shrugged, “We’re already on the topic… At least give me a name.”

“Minho.” Y/N swallowed the rest of her drink. “He was handsome and smart. I loved his dry humor, a bit mischievous. He was a dancer, sexy.” Y/N groaned in memory.

“So what happened? If he was so perfect…”

“We wanted different things. I wanted someone to bring home for the holidays. He wanted someone to fuck behind my back. So…”

“Oh damn… I’m so sorry.” Chan frowned, trying desperately not to sound like he was pitying her. He already knew she hated that.

Y/N shrugged, “It’s my own fault. My sister always told me to date down, but I didn’t listen… He was just too hot to be trustworthy…”

“Still sorry he screwed you over like that. No one deserves that.” Chan hesitated looking around, while Y/N simply hummed in thought. “I’ll be back in a few. Gonna run to the bathroom and get us new drinks on the way back. Sit tight, yeah?”

Of course, as soon as Chan had left the announcer began the ten-second countdown. Y/N looked around frantically, not wanting to be alone when they got to–

“Happy New Year!”

“I’m so sorry,” Chan huffed, running back through the crowd to her side. He glanced over to her and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “Happy New Year.”

🎄

She was alone on a holiday again, save for her overflowing basket of candy. Even though New Year’s was fun with Chan—probably the best holiday she’d ever had—she couldn’t find it in her to call him again for another holiday. Especially Valentine’s Day.

“Y/N?”

She wished she had called Chan.

Her eyes widened, and she whipped around, truffle hanging out of her mouth as she ate from the basket she had yet to pay for.

“Minho? Oh my god! How’ve you been?” Y/N rushed to wipe her mouth clean as she came face-to-face with her ex-boyfriend.

Minho didn’t get a chance to answer since a young woman ran up and did it for him. “Baby taste this! Isn’t it good?”

He had a new girlfriend. A new, adorable, perfect girlfriend.

Lost in her self-deprecating thoughts, Y/N felt an arm slide around her waist. “Hey love, I thought we were gonna meet over by the little ice cream stand? You told me you wanted to try that new flavor.”

How was he here? Why was he helping her?

“Oh, hey there mate. I’m Chan, Y/N’s little boy toy. I’d love to get her to commit long-term, but she’s just so strong and independent. Fingers crossed though!”

“Stop it,” Y/N finally snapped out of her reverie and hissed under her breath to Chan as she fake nuzzled him. He covered it well with a laugh.

“Yeah, nice to meet you…” Minho smiled down at his girlfriend. “I’m Minho, and this is Tzuyu.”

“Cool, well did you get everything, love? I wanted to get you something from Victoria’s Secret. Let’s go,” Chan grinned secretively at her. A show for Minho, she knew. “Anyway, lovely to meet you both. All the best, bye Julie~”

“Um, it's Tzuyu!” They called back to Chan as he dragged Y/N out of the store.

She was dragged past the ice cream store he mentioned and the Victoria’s Secret, all the way to Chan’s car, as she continued to mumble about feeling sick. Finally, in the privacy of his car, she let out a shaky sigh and a single sob.

“I need a cigarette.”

Chan’s head ticked to the side, “You smoke?”

“Sometimes… Not regularly, just in high stress situations. Holidays are the worst…”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I thought about it but… I was embarrassed that nothing had changed since New Year’s. I’m still bitter and single.”

Chan laughed lightly, nudging Y/N to lighten the mood. “That’s the point of this whole holidate thing. We both get to avoid the pressure of a real relationship and the judgment of not having one yet. So… Let’s just make it official, yeah? Holidates until further notice?”

🎄

St. Patrick’s Day came and went smoothly. Chan and Y/N met up at a pub, drinking until all the green in the room began to blur together, and surprisingly ran into Nayeon, Jeongin, and Chaeryeong. None of them quite understood the arrangement the two had, but they were supportive of their sister getting out of the house, having fun, and letting loose.

After St. Patrick’s Day, Easter rolled around, and with Easter came a family brunch.

“Hoppy Easter, my little bunnies,” Y/N’s aunt strolled into the backyard wearing a Playboy outfit. She motioned to her own holidate, who was wearing a long white robe, “This is Jesús.”

“What in God’s name are you wearing?!” Y/N’s mom shrieked at her sister. “This is an Easter brunch; silly costumes are not allowed.”

As she spoke, someone came literally hopping into the yard wearing a full pink bunny suit, tossing candy-filled eggs to the kids.

Y/N choked on her mimosa at the sight. “Looks like someone didn’t get the memo.”

“Felix!” Her mother beamed. “I’m glad you could make it. Honey,” she turned towards Y/N, dragging a freckled, ball of sunshine with her, “This is our neighbor that I told you about.”

“Hello,” he smiled at her. His voice was deep—deeper than she anticipated—and sent a subtle chill down her spine. His freckles stood out, even against his lightly tanned skin, and his smile warmed her from the inside out. “I’m Felix… Sorry, I volunteer at the kids’ cancer ward and was doing a bit of cheering up. Came straight here… Wow, you are prettier in person.�� Y/N blushed deeply, dipping her face to hide her grin. Chan glanced between the two. “Thank you,” she mumbled out at the same time that Chan piped in, “I’m Chan. Y/N’s date. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m so sorry, Felix. We weren’t expecting Y/N to bring a guest.” Her mother cut in, sneering down at Chan and Y/N.

The warmth Felix had brought drained out, and Y/N glared up at her own mom. “That’s odd to say since I explicitly told you that Chan was coming.”

“Um… I’ll go say hi to the kids. I have some more treats for them…” Felix excused himself, glancing between the staredown the two women were having.

“You see what you did!” Her mother hissed. “He’ll think you aren’t interested.”

“I’m not interested.” It wasn’t totally a lie.

Y/N’s mother fussed with her hair. “I just want you to find someone with real potential.” She glared over at Chan again. “I don’t want you continuing with this holidate crap. Do you want to die alone like your aunt?”

After remaining silent, her mother huffed and dispersed to nag at someone else. Chan waited a few minutes and then cleared his throat. “You know… Maybe you should actually give that neighbor guy a chance?” When Y/N simply stared at him like he was crazy, Chan continued, “I mean he has nice hair, freckles, volunteers with kids… That’s gotta be a dream guy, right?”

“I just don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“Hasn’t it been almost a year?”

Y/N pouted down at her crepes. “I mean… yeah,” she said softly, a bit broken. “Women take their time to process though. We don’t just dump and move on like men do.”

“To be fair, women can be brutal too.” Chan breathed out heavily, “My ex… I mean, my friend’s ex. She crushed him. Pretended to like his friends and hobbies. Started leaving things at his apartment until he just suggested they move in together. And it was great at first, or maybe she was good at pretending… They started exploring more things sexually and talking about the future. But then one day, she was just gone. All of the stuff she had left around was cleared out, her phone number was changed, and I was blocked on social media. I mean, my friend was blocked.”

Y/N looked over at Chan, really looked at him. He looked as broken in that moment as she often felt inside. She rubbed his arm lightly, and he gave her a sad smile. After a few more minutes, Y/N cleared her throat.

“So… what kind of sexual things are we talking?” She joked, trying to lighten the mood.

It worked, and Chan laughed loudly. “I am not telling you that.”

🎄

Much like St. Patrick’s Day, Cinco de Mayo was spent at a fiesta party getting blackout drunk together. This time without the interruption of Y/N’s siblings.

Several rounds of tequila shots in, Y/N finally asked about the “sexual things” Chan had explored before since he never answered at Easter. He just laughed her off again. A few more rounds, and some light flirting, and Y/N was taunting that he probably hadn’t even slept with anyone in a while and lost his touch. He corrected her that he had actually met some waitress at St. Patrick’s Day that he’d taken home. She downed her next drink after hearing that, not stopping to think about why it bothered her. More shots, more drinks.

And the next thing they knew, they were waking up in Chan’s apartments and promptly going their separate ways until Mother’s Day.

“Can we please not talk about my personal life for once?” Y/N questioned, sipping her drink, while Chan sat silently beside her eating brunch.

“It’s my day. I have a right to know what my only child is doing with their life.” Her mother snipped.

Y/N grumbled about her siblings, and her mother cut her off, “They aren’t single.” She spat the word like it was a curse. “I just worry about you… And you,” she turned her glare to Chan, “I don’t understand why you’re wasting my daughter’s time.”

“It’s not a waste. We’re friends, Mother.” Y/N defended immediately, and Chan perked up, glancing over at her with a small smile.

“You don’t need a friend. You need a husband. Or at least a life partner. You need someone legally bound to be there when you go through chemo.”

Chan looked worriedly, “chemo?” at the same time Y/N spat the word out.

Y/N’s mother turned back to her daughter. “Let’s not kid ourselves. You have bad genes, and you smoke. Bald women don’t get a lot of dates. You need a husband now.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Ms. L/N.” Chan interrupted, noticing how she curled in on herself. “Y/N is an amazing girl. Even bald.”

🎄

For Independence Day, Chan and Jeongin gathered fireworks and drove up to the lake cabin separately. Y/N met up with Nayeon, Chaeryeong, and her aunt to ride up: girls’ trip style. With the addition of her aunt’s holidate…

“What’s that smell?” Chaeryeong asked, sliding into the backseat beside Y/N’s aunt and her date.

Nayeon breathed deeply, “Is that marijuana?”

“It’s medicinal.”

“Don’t care,” Y/N laughed, “pass it over!”

Slowly but surely, the girls hotboxed Nayeon’s car, arriving at the cabin happily high. Upon arrival, they settled in with munchies while the boys ran down to the lake to start shooting off the fireworks, shouting excitedly while they did.

“What is it about men and explosives?” Y/N laughed, watching from the balcony as Chan gleefully shot off fireworks.

“It’s like jacking off.” Y/N’s aunt giggled back, “Men live for the orgasm. If they’re not fucking then they’re dreaming about fucking… Or blowing stuff up. It’s the next best thing to fucking.”

The girls burst out laughing, but petered off as Jeongin ran up frantically. He was shouting about a freak accident and how Chan shot off a firework and the kickback knocked him over and the explosion hit the tree and a branch fell on him and he broke his leg.

Which led to Y/N, miraculously the most sober person at the cabin, taking Chan to the hospital.

“All right, so it looks like you only fractured the bone,” the doctor said coming into the hospital room.

“Felix?” Y/N asked, confused.

“Y/N! Are you hurt? You’re okay, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine… I didn’t know you were like a doctor doctor; I just thought you volunteered.”

“Well, I’m technically still a resident. But I also volunteer in the cancer ward.” Felix smiled at her.

Chan glanced between Y/N and Felix as the two grinned shyly at one another.

“That’s so amazing… You’re just… Wow. Doing amazing things.” Y/N breathed out. (Maybe she was still a bit high).

“I’m just trying to help people,” Felix blushed. “Anyway, I was disappointed I never heard back from you…”

Chan couldn’t stand their flirting anymore. “You know what I’m disappointed about? This broken leg.”

“Ah, yeah, man… It shouldn’t be too long now. We’ll give you some pain medication and a prescription and make sure it’s set and cast properly. Then you can go.”

“Sounds good.” Chan smiled, although the grin was tight around the edges.

Later that evening, Y/N had managed to gather the necessary prescriptions, taken Chan home, and ordered him food.

“I’m sorry I ruined your Fourth of July…” Chan pouted at her, grabbing her hand when she turned away to leave.

She pulled away gently but moved to push his hair out of his eyes. “It’s no problem, Chan… Holidate rule number three: leave no holidate behind.”

🎄

The next holiday did not come as smoothly. Since Labor Day was also the weekend of Jeongin and Chaeryeong’s wedding, Y/N and Chan decided to take different dates.

Not that either necessarily wanted to, but neither knew that the other wanted to take each other. It was unnecessarily complicated.

Instead, Y/N brought Felix and Chan brought the St. Patrick’s Day waitress, and the whole event was awkward overall.

At some point, though, the two found themselves at the bar, and it went from awkward to horrible as they argued. But, their tempers were smothered upon finding their dates making out near the dessert table, and they both sighed and smiled sheepishly at one another.

“So you got any ideas for Halloween?” Y/N pouted.

“Already on it.” Chan shrugged, planning out matching outfits for the two of them.

On Halloween, Chan spotted Y/N first, calling her over with wide-eyes at the corset wrapped tightly around her. “I’m glad it fits… Perfectly, actually.” He eyed her pirate costume, gaze dragging up-and-down her body. He hadn’t anticipated how good it would look.

“Ahoy!” Y/N smiled and held a flask out to Chan, “Rum?”

The party, hosted by Jeongin and Chaeryeong, was going well. Y/N and Chan were having a blast with her brother and sister-in-law, along with Nayeon who had come out. It was fun… Until…

“Happy Halloween!” Minho cheered, heading towards them.

Y/N whipped around to hiss, “Who invited them?” Chan’s hands came to rest on her shoulders, giving a reassuring squeeze.

“I love the slutty pirate costume. Classic!” Tzuyu smiled.

She was being genuine, and Y/N wanted to hate her for it. Wanted to hate how genuinely sweet and pretty she was. But she couldn’t. Because at the moment, she was busy hating her for the obvious baby bump she was sporting.

“Um…” Y/N smiled awkwardly, “So, baby?”

Tzuyu’s eyebrows rose, “Oh, yes… Minho and I are expecting. Isn’t that great?” She looked so happy.

Y/N felt sick.

“Wow… Pregnant. That’s– that’s great! She’s pregnant everyone! Isn’t that great?!” Y/N babbled frantically.

“Alright, love, let’s go get another drink!” Chan interrupted, pulling her away with Nayeon following closely behind.

Once out of earshot, Y/N grabbed Chan’s hand. “I don’t feel well.”

“Do you want me to take you home?” Nayeon offered, but Y/N shook her head, insisting that her older sister enjoy her night out.

“I’ve got you. I’ll take you home.” Chan said. No room for argument. “Holidate rule number three: leave no holidate behind. Let’s go.”

Back at her apartment, Y/N rushed to the bathroom. She slid down to the floor, the panic attack pulling dry heaves out of her. Chan settled next to her after a few minutes, passing her hot tea to soothe her nerves and rubbing her back. She let out loud sobs and fell into his chest.

When she had settled down, he helped her up and into her bed. He moved to leave, but Y/N grabbed his hand, pulling him back onto the bed. “Please stay…”

“Are you sure? You’re really upset about this.”

“I’m upset that he gets to cheat and still finds love, and no one will love me. I’m upset that my mom is right. There’s something wrong with me…”

Chan’s brow furrowed, and his jaw ticked. “There is nothing wrong with you. You deserve love, and…” He paused, head tilting in thought slightly. “Someone will love you.”

She nodded and slid down into the blankets. Chan followed, curling around her and holding her close to him.

She’d never fallen asleep so quickly.

In the morning, Y/N woke up with Chan only a hair’s breadth away. He looked so soft. She reached up, finger tracing his pouty lips, but froze when his eyes fluttered open. His own hand reached up, grabbing hers and placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

As a small smile tugged on both their lips, Y/N leaned forward. Her hand slid over his cheek and into his hair while their lips met. When she started to pull away from the chaste kiss, his grasp tightened on her, and he pulled her back in for another. And another. And another.

Before either knew it, the October morning chill had turned heated. Their kisses turned into bites and licks. The gentle caresses turned into scratches and roaming hands. The early clouds turned into the midday sun.

And both flopped back onto the bed, exhausted and sweaty.

“Wow,” Chan breathed heavily, “So should we…”

As he trailed off, Y/N felt the panic rise again. “You can go if you want.”

Of course that’s what he would want. They were holidates, friends at best. He had said he wasn’t even attracted to her…

Chan’s smile, that she hadn’t noticed yet, fell. “You want me to leave?”

“I mean… I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay.”

“Why would I feel obligated?”

“Well, Halloween’s over.”

Chan’s eyes widened, brows raising. He nodded, “Right.”

“So… I’ll see you at Thanksgiving?”

🎄

“Are you sure he’s coming,” Y/N’s mom snarked, moving about the house to finish preparations. “I don’t want to put the leaf in if he’s not.”

“Yes, Mother. Put the leaf in. He’ll be here.”

“Well it’s all the way in the basement…”

“Mom–”

She didn’t stop walking, ignoring her daughter, “We could just use the piano bench somehow.”

Y/N snapped, “Put the goddamn leaf in!”

“Fine, no need to shout…” Her mother started to chastise but was cut off by the shrill of the fire alarm. “Oh no! The pies!”

Since her mother had burned both pies and several of the sides to a crisp, Y/N was being ushered to the store. As the door was pulled open, though, Y/N was met face-to-face with Chan.

“Hey?”

“Hi… I have to go to the store, if you want…?”

Hearing her mother fussing in the background, Chan grabbed her hand. “Let’s go.”

At the store, the two mostly shopped in silence, awkward chit-chat kept to a minimum, but eventually, Chan couldn’t take it anymore. “So are we really just going to pretend we didn’t have sex?”

“Sounds good.” Y/N smiled, albeit obviously fake.

Chan shook his head with a scoff. “Fine. But, for the record, I didn’t want to leave afterwards.”

“Sure,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “You didn’t even want to have sex with me. You told me you didn’t find me attractive, but sure. You definitely wanted to stay all day and talk about our feelings.”

“What did you want me to say?!” Chan snapped back, pulling Y/N to a stop. “I was some stranger in the mall. Did you want me to scare you off by telling you how beautiful I thought you were, even in your sweats. Did you want me to tell you that on New Year’s I ran away to the bathroom because you have these lips that just beg to be kissed. And on Valentine’s Day, I could see from outside the store that your eyes were filled with tears, and it crushed me. Is that what you wanted to know?”

Y/N felt her heart constrict, turning away to stare into a freezer. “No. I didn’t want to know that. In fact, I don’t want to know any of those types of things. You can relax and keep sleeping with St. Patrick’s Day waitresses all you want.”

“Wow…” Chan breathed out in disbelief. “You’re really trying so hard not to feel anything, huh? Well at least that makes you the liar and asshole and not me.”

Storming out of the store and leaving her alone in the frozen section, Y/N felt her heart crumble and eyes fill with tears. She wanted to scream and cry, but instead, she checked out and headed home, already anticipating the fight that would be waiting for her.

“Where’s Chan?” Nayeon asked as soon as Y/N walked through the front door alone.

“I don’t know…” Y/N whispered, moving to put groceries away and start helping to make some of the replacement dishes.

“I knew it!” Her mother called from the dining room. “No leaf!”

“What did you do, Y/N?” Nayeon sighed heavily.

Y/N whipped around, trying desperately to ignore the snide remark from their mother. “What makes you think it was me?”

“Well, honey, you don’t have the best track record.” Her mother chipped in again. Jeongin, having come in to get a drink, glanced between the two.

“Excuse me?! Minho is the one who cheated on me. Chan left me in the store.”

“Well maybe if you were honest with him…” Nayeon mumbled.

Jeongin shrugged one shoulder, “Yeah, if you just told him how you feel we could get through a holiday without your personal life being such a mess.”

Y/N started to argue back when her aunt’s holidate collapsed. The fighting promptly cut off, an ambulance being called, and Y/N somehow getting roped into the back with her aunt.

“You know… I barely even know him.” Her aunt whispered as they sat in the hospital waiting room. “I even had to write his name on my arm… And I know how sad it is; I know what everyone in the family thinks and says. It’s my own fault, too. I had so many opportunities with good men, kind men, who liked me. Loved me even… But as soon as they got too close, I ran away. Ran away and found someone who wasn’t good or kind. Someone who cheated, but was sexy and fun. And now I’m in my fifties, waiting in a hospital for a man I don’t really know…”

Y/N hummed, realization hitting her.

🎄

Inspired by her aunt, and a few very-much-needed therapy sessions, Y/N found herself outside Chan’s production company a week before Christmas.

Her chest felt tight, and despite the cold, her hands felt sweaty.

She could do it. She could confess. She just needed to walk in there and tell him.

“So… Are you going to go in, or just keep standing outside stalking me?” Chan’s voice came from behind.

Y/N spun around so fast she almost slipped on the icy ground, Chan reaching out to steady her.

“Chan! Hi. I just…” She exhaled heavily, breath coming out in a puff of steam against the freezing cold. “I just… I fucked up.” His brows rose, but his hands remained on her arms. She took it as a good sign and continued. “What I’m trying to say is that I’ve had more fun with you this past year than with any other loser I thought I was in love with. And I know I fucked it up because I was scared, but letting you go was the biggest mistake of my life… I miss you so much. So much that I even quit smoking and eating junk food all the time and drinking so much. You really ruined all my vices for me… Anyway…” She swallowed heavily, gaze traveling across his blank face to gauge his reaction so far, despite him not giving any. “You were right. I do have feelings for you. I thought I wanted a holidate, but the truth is that I just want you. For all the holidays. And the weekends… And weekdays would be nice too. I know I’m probably too late, but honestly, you’re the only one I’d wanna go through chemo with.”

Chan’s lips quirked into a small smile, and he stepped closer. He rubbed his nose against her freezing one and pecked her lips, pulling away just enough to say, “Yeah, why not… I bet you’d be hot bald.”

#stray kids #skz #bang chan #reader #bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #angst #fluff #holidate #holidate 2020 #oneshot #ficmas

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no-144444 · 9 days ago

Text

The Holidate (2020) - Lando Norris

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

summary: Y/n, who gets mocked for being single, finds the perfect solution when she meets Lando, an F1 driver. Now she has the perfect date for her holidays, but her heart starts yearning for something more.

pairing: lando norris x fem! reader

8.8k words

disclaimer: i do not own anything in these films, the only original character is the character y/n.

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

You stood outside your perfect family home, a cigarette in hand. “Fucking holidays,” you sighed. Quickly grabbing some tic tacs from your bag and putting out your cigarette. You covered your tracks and stood in front of the door, willing yourself not to run away. The house was the image of suburbia and the nuclear family bullshit you were used to, the shit you grew up with and believed until you realised that men weren’t shit and you had to go focus on a career if you wanted to live in Chicago.

“Happy holidays,” you faked a smile as you opened the door, your mother running up to you with a disappointed look.

“This is what you’re wearing to Christmas dinner? Don’t you own a dress?” you scolded, and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m great. Thanks for asking mom,” you sighed, following her into the house while taking off your coat.

“Y/n!” your sister, Abby, cheered. “You’re here!” She pulled you away from your mother, who was busy complaining about something or other, and brought you close. “Mike said you didn’t call him back.”

“Yeah, I didn’t,” you shrugged. She gave you a stern look. “What? I can’t date a professional clown! I’d never sleep again.”

“Well, you need to date someone! It’s been months,” she complained.

“Well, no one wants to date someone who lays around in their pyjamas all day,” your mother added.

“It’s called being a remote worker, mom, and, it’s not like my boss cares,” you scoffed.

“Are you smoking?” she asked, sniffing you feverishly.

“No mom, I’m not smoking,” you answered, your tone dry and robotic. You gently pushed her off.

“Because no man wants to marry a smoker,” she barked.

“Good thing I’m not smoking anymore,” you lied.

“No one wants to marry a smoker,” she instilled.

“But you-”

“A smoker who lies,” she added, knowing how you’d caught her out.

As the night went on, in came your brother and his girlfriend, your aunt (with a random guy she’d met the day before), and your brother-in-law with his gaggle of hell-spawn children.

You watched as the festivities played on, your aunt all over her new man, you sister battling with the drink in her hand while her husband battled their children from shitting in the manger again, and you brother being over-attentive to his girlfriend. Sometimes you pity them. They have to take care of someone all the time, they always have someone there for them, someone to come home to every night, someone to wake up beside every day, it must be exhausting.

You stood beside your aunt in the kitchen, escaping the happy couples and watching as her new boy gobbled at the food.

“Isn’t he great?” she giggled.

You grimaced. “Yeah.”

“Oh come on, it’s not like I’m planning on marrying him, he’s just my holidate,” she brushed off your concern.

“A ‘holidate’?” you questioned.

“Yeah, a holidate, y’know a date solely for the holiday,” she explained it like it was the most normal and regular thing in the world. “No commitment.”

“Y/n, I have a friend who wants to meet you!” your brother, James, called from the other room. You rolled your eyes.

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As you sat at the (kids) dinner table, you were busy getting relationship advice from your 8 year old niece. That had to be a new low. She had a boyfriend, and you didn’t. Could your life get more pathetic?

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You all sat around in the living room, opening presents. Your sister got you pyjamas, two sizes too big. Your brother got you pyjamas, three sizes too big, and your parents got you, you guessed it!- pyjamas. At least those were the actual size. You faked as much enthusiasm as you could, and just smiled and nodded. How much worse could this Christmas get?

As you all finished up opening gifts, your brother stood up, taking Liz’s hand.

“Liz, I know it’s only been 3 months, and 6 incredible days, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice full of excitement.

“Yes!’ she cheered. “Yes, I’ll marry you!”

Your heart dropped. Your little brother was getting married before you. You were finally cemented as the pathetic sibling, forever.

Worst. Christmas. Ever.

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Little did you know, that just a few blocks away, someone else was going through a harrowing Christmas date experience…

Lando walked up beside Mandy, a girl he’d just-so-happened to have met in a random club over the break. He hadn’t planned to come to Chicago, but he just-so-happened to have ended up there, on the basis of Quadrant meetings and deal negotiations being held there. He had gone on two dates with Mandy so far, one of them being the time they met in the club. He had no idea why he hadn’t just flown home to go see his family and siblings, maybe even see Mila and babysit for a while.

“Your parents know this is our third date, right?” he asked as they stood on the front porch.

“Of course they do!” she smiled brightly. “I’m not even sure I told them you were coming-”

His heart dropped as the door opened, and they immediately turned to him.

“Lando!” her mother cheered. “He’s even more handsome than in the pictures!”

“Pictures?” he mumbled, his face dropping. Obviously, he knew people were going to know who he was, he was an F1 driver for fuck’s sake. But something about the way she said pictures made his stomach drop, and he wasn’t sure if she meant pictures that Mandy had taken of him (he never posed for any), or the ones online. Something told him it was the first option, and he felt sick.

Then ensued a night of pure agony, he was buried in baby photos, old trophies, and a look into this random girls’ life. As he stood in her childhood bedroom, he truthfully asked himself. “Fuck am I?” and groaned when he was called down to dinner.

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After dinner, he went back up to Maisie’s room- or was her name Mandy? Anyways, to talk about the awful night.

“What is going on?” he questioned, whisper-shouting.

“My parents fucking love you,” she smirked, pressing her lips to his.

“What the fuck?” he asked again as she pushed him down on the bed, stripping herself.

“Come on, y’know you like me,” she smirked, a sultry look in her eye. “You wouldn’t be here on a major holiday if you didn’t.”

“I already explained that I’m here for business purposes and-”

She started kissing him, and he stopped caring about the strangeness of the situation when she started unzipping his trousers.

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He sat sandwiched between her parents, matching ugly Christmas sweater on, opening a box full of… swimming trunks?

“Swimming togs… thanks,” he faked as much enthusiasm as he could as they all nodded.

“They’re skin-tight too, since it makes you go faster in the water,” Mandy explained, a bright smile on her face.

“Togs, and a project, thanks,” he smiled, trying his best to charm his way out of it all.

She held out her hands, expecting a present from him and his heart stopped.

“Me next!” she cheered.

“You said we weren’t doing presents this year,” he said, feeling the eyes of her parents on him.

“Pardon?” she questioned, her eyes dangerous. “So you know me well enough to cum in my mouth,”

He looked at her parents and shook his head as she continued. “But not well enough to get me a Christmas gift? Are you shitting me?”

“W-what-” he stuttered before getting up. “Y’know what,” he turned to her parents. “Thank you for the lovely dinner, happy Christmas,” he turned to her. “Maisie, don’t call me again!”

“Mandy,” she corrected, tears in her eyes. “It’s Mandy you asshole.”

“Great, Mandy, then,” he scoffed before starting to walk to the door, then he remembered the ugly christmas sweater he was wearing, and off it came. He threw it to Mandy, and walked out the door.

Worst. Christmas. Ever.

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You stand behind some British guy (who you swear you know from somewhere) in the sluggish queue of a random men's department store.

Said British guy is busy fighting with the sales clerk to take his strange swimming togs back, and you’ve had enough of it.

“Hey, Cockney, we’ve all been waiting for ages, some of us have jobs,” you scoffed.

“I’m actually from Bristol,” he rolled his eyes. “And what makes you think I don’t have a job.”

“You’re in the mall on a Wednesday,” quickly, you brought the two pairs of pyjamas that don’t fit you to the front. “I’d like to return these.”

“Hey!” he scoffed.

“Hey,” you smiled in return.

“I can only offer store credit,” the clerk smiled apologetically, and you sighed.

“Seriously?”

“Ha,” The Brit laughed. “That’s what you get.”

“And sir, I can only offer you store credit as well.”

“Ha!” you laughed. “That’s what you get.”

“I’ll give you 45 bucks for it all,” the girl behind you in line smiled at the both of you. “And this voucher for the pretzel stand.”

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You walked around the mall with the Brit, enjoying your pretzel.

“So, how was your holiday season?” you asked, making polite conversation.

“I spent my Christmas in an ugly Christmas sweater, a strange dinner, and being with people who I think might’ve been in a cult,” he nodded.

“Well, I'll take your ugly sweater, and raise you a seat at the kids table, my little brother getting engaged, and my mother constantly asking me to date one of her many friends' sons,” you listed. “You sure you don’t want any?” you offered him some pretzel.

“Do you know what that does to your body?” he asked.

“Oh,” you grimaced. “You’re one of those guys.”

“What does that mean?” he scoffed.

“It means you’re the kind of guy to take a billion vitamins a day and talks about your micros and macros,” you laughed. Then you caught sight of the guy your aunt brought to Christmas dinner. “Shit,” you cursed, hiding behind the Brit.

“What?” he laughed.

“You see the mall Santa over there?” you asked. He nodded. “That’s the guy my aunt brought home for Christmas dinner, hide me,” you begged, and he walked on with you behind him, hiding you.

“Who is he anyway?” he asked.

“Oh, it wasn’t serious,” you chuckled. “He was her Holidate.”

“Holidate?” he questioned.

“It’s just a person you pick up to spend Christmas with,” you shrugged. “It’s dumb, I know.”

A light bulb went off in his head. “Just Christmas, or all holidays?”

“All of ‘em,” you nodded. “I mean, I guess it’s pretty genius when you actually think about it.”

“That’s exactly what I need for New Year’s, a Holidate!”

You chuckled. “Sorry, pretty sure my aunt is already booked up-”

“No, I’m serious, I am done casually dating on the holidays! I don’t want to do it anymore, it’s exhausting. I always end up being an asshole in some sort of way or-”

“Really? Try being the only single person left in your family, at the age of 24. My little brother, who's 21, by the way, is getting married,” you scoffed. “I mean every time I see them it is a fucking palaver of sad glances and exhausting small talk about one of their ‘friends’. Why is everyone so suspicious of a happy, single woman?”

“Because it’s obvious you’re not happy,” he said like it was obvious. “Was that a trick question?”

You sighed. “I am happy, thank you very much.”

He chuckled. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Look, humans are meant to be with other people on the holidays, it’s just a fact! We all need warmth… companionship,” he could sense the fact that he was losing you. “And someone to drunk-mock people at parties with!”

“I do enjoy drunk-mocking people,” you pondered.

“Perfect! We can be each other’s Holidate for New Year’s!”

You chuckled, walking on. “Funny, I don’t even know you.”

“That’s what makes it ideal! I don’t know you, you don’t know me! We aren’t expecting anything from each other, other than showing up to the date!”

“Sure…” you sighed.

“And we’d never sleep with each other as well, it’s a win-win.”

You frowned, a quizzitive look on your face. “Why wouldn’t we sleep together?” He looked you up and down and grimaced. “Christ, calm down with the flattery asshole.”

“Not like that, it’s just you’re not my type,” he explained quickly.

“Goodbye, or Cheerio, I guess. Since that’s what you say in Bristol,” you scoffed, walking off.

“Come on, it’d be perfect! No more sad glances, no more kids' table seats. I have tickets to the Skyfall party, and I need a plus one,” he explained, following you.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged.

“That’s such a good party,�� you sighed, knowing for the years you’d gone to it before.

“So say yes,” he smirked, knowing he was winning you over. “I just want to have a nice night and know that my date won’t go batshit if I don’t drop down on one knee at midnight with a ring with a quarter of a million pounds.”

“What makes you think I’m not batshit?” you smirked.

He smiled. “You’re not.”

You smiled back.

“I’m Lando, by the way.”

“Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/n, here is my number,” he smiled, handing you his business card.

“Formula 1 driver and CEO,” you raised an eyebrow. “Do you drive for the orange team?”

“It’s papaya,” he rolled his eyes. “And yes, yes I do.”

“Don’t girls like… throw themselves at you?”

He sighed. “Those are usually the batshit ones.”

You nodded. “Right.”

“Just think about the party and text me,” he smiled.

“I won’t be texting you, I’m more of a RedBull girl myself,” you smirked, walking off.

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You sighed, thinking over the past new days. Your mom had tried (and failed) to get you to meet with her new neighbour, work was already beating you down, and you just needed some fun. Skyfall party it was.

Lando, it was.

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The party was already insane when you walked in, and you two fell into a steady rhythm of guessing peoples’ stories.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he smiled.

“Thanks,” you smiled. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Your tits look amazing in that dress,” he smiled, and chuckled when you smiled. “This is great! I can say whatever I want, and I don’t have to worry whether you think I’m a classy guy or not.”

“I can wear a slutty dress without being slut-shamed, win-win,” you agreed.

As the night progressed, you found yourself slightly (*very much) drunk and sitting, talking about your awful love lives, and your deep-rooted hatred for the film Dirty Dancing.

“He’s such a dick to her the entire film, and she has absolutely no self-respect!” you argued.

“But isn’t it romantic or something-?”

“No! It's pathetic that she’s sold as this head-strong, interesting girl who falls for the first guy she sees at a goddamn summer camp for families, likes him the entire time even though he treats her like shit, then gets excited in the end when he finally gives her a chance, because he ‘grew to love her’. It’s bullshit!”

“So who ruined rom coms for you?” he asked. You shook your head.

“We’re not going there,” you sighed, taking another sip of your drink.

“I think we’re already here,” he smiled. “You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Luc,” you answered.

“Christ, he sounds like a wanker,” he giggled.

“He wasn’t,” you sighed. “He was handsome, intelligent, French.”

Lando scoffed. “What happened?”

“We just… needed different things,” you explained. “I wanted someone to take home for the holidays, he wanted to fuck a barista. It was a super mutual break-up,” you laughed. Lando didn’t.

“Shit,” Lando cursed. “Ouch.”

“Well, to be fair, he was too good-looking to be trustworthy,” you sighed. “My sister always says to date-down. Then you’ll never get hurt. I gotta piss, I’ll be right back,” you said, then off you went.

Lando watched as you left, his heart a little heavier than before.

In the bathroom, a bride-to-be (well, they were getting engaged tonight, one of the many people you and Lando had profiled) was sobbing over a dress and you had decided to be the good person and switch with her, taking her number so she could give the dress back after she got it dry cleaned.

You came back in a white ruffled dress with a very large red wine stain on it. You sighed. “Don’t even.”

“Did you get stabbed?” he chuckled. “Or is Carrie in now?”

“Shut up Lando,” you scoffed, dragging him onto the dance floor.

If Lando was a good charmer, he certainly was a good dancer. You two danced along to the fast-paced, pop songs, but then came the slow set at about 10:30. ‘(I’ve Had) The Time Of My Life’ started playing, the spotlight blaring down on you two as the chords played. Your face dropped and he giggled uncontrollably.

“Nobody puts Baby in a corner,” he cheekily smirked, taking your hand.

The dance floor cleared off, watching as you two somehow pulled off the jump, only for him to drop you, because he was giggling so hard.

“Nobody drops Baby on her head,” you reminded him as you two sat out of the dancing, trying to substitute your bruised egos (and bodies) with alcohol.

“I’m going to go take a piss,” he sighed, getting up.

Perfect timing. The countdown started just as he left, and you were left to watch all the happy couples french-kiss their way into the new year. You sighed. Had it been your worst date ever? No. Would you call him again? Probably not. You watched as people all around kissed and held the people they loved the most and you couldn’t help but feel… without. Sure, you liked how easy and painless being single was, but it was also lonely. For the first time in a while, you let yourself just feel lonely. It sucked.

Then, Lando came running back, an apology on his lips.

“Happy New Year Lando,” you smiled, not as enthused as earlier, but it would do.

“Happy New Year,” he nodded, still sorry about missing it. He awkwardly kissed your cheek and you just accepted it, hoping next year would be slightly (extremely) different.

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You two rode in the back of a cab, you looked out the window at the city going by, the streets you knew so well and-

“Tonight was fun,” he admitted. “I had a good time.”

“Not the worst night of my life,” you agreed.

“So… what are your Valentine’s plans?” he questioned.

“You mean the holiday that’s in two whole months?” you chuckled. He nodded. “I don’t know! I don’t have plans yet.”

“Great, let’s make some!” he smiled. You frowned. “Come on, after that I’ll be busy until the summer! Let’s just go to a movie or something.”

“A lot can happen in two months, Lando,” you explained. “And if I don’t meet the love of my life by then, I have a tradition of buying chocolate and eating it. Alone.”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “If you change your mind, I’m here.”

“You can stay here then,” you scoffed. The taxi pulled up outside your apartment block, and back to your apartment you went, exhausted from the night. Happy New Year to you.

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“No Valentine’s day date? What?” Liz cried. Agreeing to go wedding planning with her was a bad choice, noted. You were stuck in a bright, flowery, overly-scented room shop of fabrics, designs, and glassware, all of the shit you never thought you’d have to care about.

“I’m not dying,” you sighed. “It’s a random Thursday where chocolate is either cheap and good, or expensive and good. I’ll enjoy a bath, and go to bed early. Sounds perfect to me.”

“You should call mom’s neighbour!” Liz suggested. “What’s his name?”

“No,” you sighed. “I am not going out with someone that my mother sets me up with.”

“But what about the wedding? You can’t be single at the wedding,” Liz sighed.

“You mean the wedding that’s 8 whole months away?”

“Exactly! What will you do?”

“I am more than happy to be single, I don’t have to share a bathroom, a bed, or a kitchen with a man,” you argued, and Liz nodded, kind of agreeing with your philosophy (your brother was a gross dude). “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve some chocolate to buy.”

As you walked to the chocolate shop in the mall, you couldn’t help but think of Lando. Maybe he’d gone off with some model, or some actress. Maybe he was in Ibiza right now partying the night away with his other famous friends. Or maybe he was right outside the shop, watching you see your ex and his fiance for the first time since the break up.

Fuck.

You stood, watching the two of them canoodle in front of you in line, and your heart sank slightly. Great. A model.

“Y/n?” Luc questioned, turning to you.

“Luc,” you faked as much enthusiasm as possible, just to keep your voice from breaking.

“How have you been?” he asked.

“Good,” you smiled, trying to sound sure of yourself. “What about you?”

“Busy,” he chuckled. “Oh, this is Nicola, my fiancé!” He introduced you to the gorgeous woman next to him. She was basically you, same hair, eye colour, build, but if you put the tiktok beauty filter on you, and turned it up to 100.

“Fiancé?” you gawked, pretending to sound excited.

“Nicola,” she smiled, holding out her hand to be shaken. You took it shaking it.

“Hey baby,” Lando smiled, wrapping an arm around you as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, joining in beside you. “You get the stuff for the party?”

Luc and Nicola’s faces dropped in shock.

“Yeah, babe,” you played along. “This is Lando, my boyfriend,” you turned to the two of them, smiling.

“You didn’t tell me your college friends were in town,” he smiled. “How’s clowning going?”

You held back a laugh, realising you had told him the story of the couple you’d met in your 3 days of clown college. It wasn’t for you, hence not being able to call your sisters’ clown friend back about a second date.

“Oh, we’re not clowns,” she chuckled, trying to play it off as a joke.

“Oh gosh!” Lando faked embarrassment quite well. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea-”

“No, that’s alright,” Luc stopped him. “It’s lovely to you Lando-”

“Yeah, well, we’d better run, big plans tonight,” Lando interrupted, paying for your chocolate and taking your hand. “We have a flight to catch.”

“Where are you going?” Nicola questioned, but you were already being pulled out of the shop.

“Holy shit that was awful!” you cursed. “Why is it that the new girlfriend has to be younger and hotter?”

“Here, drink this to calm yourself,” he handed you his drink, and you took a sip.

Green juice, gross.

“God, I’m going to be sick,” you sighed, dramatically sitting on one of the mall benches.

“Well, usually the younger the girl, the less chance of commitment being an issue,” he explained. “Men think like that, at least, I think they do.”

“But you don’t?” you snarkily raised an eyebrow. He chuckled.

“I try not to,” he giggled. “And anyways, it’s kind of a compliment anyways.”

“You're right!” you cheered. “Nicola is a cry for help.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you drunk?”

“Maybe,” you sighed. “Those Guinness truffle things are pretty strong. You want one?”

“No, I'm alright, thanks.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh yeah, you’re a professional athlete.”

“Don’t say it like it’s a joke,” he scoffed. “I am.”

“You’re just being a pussy,” you shrugged. “Real athletes enjoy chocolate. Ask Lewis Hamilton.”

“I can if you want me to,” he smirked.

“I trust that my favourite driver enjoys chocolate, thanks though.”

“Lewis is your favourite?” he scoffed, turning to you.

“I’m hardly going for the fucking papayas,” you chuckled.

“Anyways, if I wasn’t such a pussy, you would still be in a fucking sweet shop talking to your ex-boyfriend and his new fiancé,” he smirked. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you,” you replied. “I owe you one.”

“I will take my hand job in the car park, thank you very much,” he chuckled, obviously laughing.

“A hand job?” you scoffed. “What are we? 15?”

“You were giving out hand jobs at 15?”

“Most of us weren’t 3 feet tall at age 15,” you teased.

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As the months went on, you blew through St. Patrick’s day and Easter, finding out about Lando’s heartbreak along the way. His ex-girlfriend Luisha and him had broken up over the simple reason of his fans hating her more than life itself. As the F1 season began, you stayed busy with work while he travelled and drove, and every now and then you’d text each other about your days, or call to catch up.

It was nice, having someone to talk to. Lando didn’t judge you the way your family or friends did. He liked you for you, and you tolerated him for him.

The night of Cinco De Mayo came around the corner, and you had invited Lando to come to a random bar and get fucked up together. He’d just won Miami the day before, and he was riding high. You two danced, drank, and sang the night away, eventually waking up in your apartment.

Waking up in your aparmtent, in only your bra and his boxers.

“Fuck,” you whispered, the bright light basically blinding you, as the hangiety and headache began.

“Morning,” his voice was groggy and deep. “I guess we…”

“No way,” you sighed, pushing yourself up off the floor- how did you get there? “There’s no way we would’ve… one of us would remember.”

“You can’t tell? You’re wearing my boxers, Y/n,” he smiled. “If we did it’s fine, right? We’re both adults, we can move past it.”

You grabbed your own panites from the floor beside you, and quickly hid behind a tall chair to change. “There’s no dried patch on my thigh, no wrapper on the floor, nothing hurts, I don’t feel strange,” you listed. “Can’t you tell?”

“I just feel like shit,” he sighed.

“Right, so we didn’t do it,” you offered.

“Let’s go with that,” he nodded, giving you a thumbs up.

“Coffee?” you offered.

“Yeah, please,” he groaned, closing his eyes again.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You two went through Mother’s Day (meeting his mom and pretending to be his girlfriend was terrifying, but you kept it together), and eventually you invited him to your yearly 4th of July party at your parents lake house, but he was too busy racing in Silverstone, so he invited you (and your family) to come to the race.

You watched as he sped down the main straight, full of anticipation. Right now, Oscar was in the lead for the WDC and McLaren was leading the WCC as they continued winning race after race. Lando really wanted this one though, he had to win his home race.

You’d really gotten into F1 in recent months, and you had started to actually enjoy the races, not just watch them because Lando was driving.

You watched as he sped down the main straight, rain pouring down, this was his final flying lap, the one that would put him over Oscar, up to pole position and-

He spun out.

“Fuck!” you shouted, shocked at the scene in front of you. The session was red flagged and everyone went back into the pits. While you watched, on the edge of your seat, as he was carried out of the car and put into a medical car.

You sprinted down to the garage, ready to see him. You couldn’t let him get hurt while you were there, that meant you were his bad luck charm or something. You couldn’t have that. You watched as he exited the medical car, right outside the McLaren garage, and you breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped out, looking mostly unharmed.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, taking his hand. “You’re alright after that?”

He shrugged. “Maybe? I have to go get checked-”

“You need someone to go to the hospital with you,” Will interrupted. “We’re going to stay back and work on the data, you have someone?”

Lando looked at you with wide eyes. “Ummm-”

“He does,” you nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

He gave you an appreciative smile.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

“The doctor will be in shortly,” Maisie, his very annoyed nurse smiled as the both of you tried desperately to hold in your laughter.

“Thank you,” you smiled, and as she left the room you and him burst into laughter again. You weren’t even sure you knew what you were laughing about, but that was fine with the two of you.

In came… you mom’s neighbour?

“Faarouq?” you questioned. “You’re in England?”

“I volunteer here,” he explained. “Flew in to reconnect this guy's finger, and now I’m just staying a few extra days since they’re understaffed.”

“Oh,” you smiled. “That’s awesome.”

You hadn’t noticed it before, but he really was lovely. He was kind, he volunteered, he was a doctor. He was great.

Lando watched as you and he chatted and he couldn’t help but feel himself deflate. He didn’t know why, but seeing you with him made him… something. He wasn’t sure.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

No issues, all healthy, might experience some neck pain. Clean bill of health.

You walked him up to his hotel room, his arm around your shoulder. You’d honestly had a brilliant day with Lando, the best 4th you’d ever had.

You lay him down in his bed, handing him a glass of water.

“Sorry for ruining your 4th,” he sighed. “You probably should’ve been with your family.”

You brushed it off. “Holidates should never leave a holidate behind,” you chuckled. “And anyways, it was a pretty fun day.”

You put a hand on his shoulder, assuring him of your answer, and he put his hand over yours. You both felt it, looking at each other just a little bit too long for it to be platonic, but you quickly ended it, leaving as soon as you could.

He was a Holidate, nothing more.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

“Our hands touched,” he told Max as they set out for a day of golfing.

“Holy shit,” he gasped. “Did you use protection?”

Lando scoffed as Max laughed.

“I’m telling you there was a… moment, or something,” he sighed. “I’m starting to really like her.”

“Oh shit, you’ve got to get out then,” Max turned serious.

“W-what do you mean?”

“Mate,” he groaned. “You’re a fucking F1 driver who is trying to win a World Championship right now, do you think you’ll have all the time in the world to date someone?” “But… the weddings’ coming up- and it’s on labour day. Technically that’s a holiday.”

“You’re already in too deep, bring someone else,” Max instructed.

“Max I can juggle two things at once-”

“Mate, you’ve worked your entire life for this, do not fuck it up for some girl!”

Lando saw the truth in what he was saying (even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear), and he sighed. “I guess you’re right. I’ll text her tonight.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You walked into the wedding, a sour look on your face. You date, Farrouq (your mom’s neighbour) clung to your aunt all night while Lando’s date was some super model that made you want to run and hide.

“Hi,” he smiled, coming up to you at the bar.

“Hi.”

“Enjoying the wedding?”

“Yup,” you nodded. “You?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” he agreed.

“Your date seems nice,” you mentioned.

“She left a little while ago,” he admitted.

“Oh shit, sorry,” you cursed. “I genuinely meant it. I didn’t see her leave-”

“Yeah, it’s alright,” he shook his head. “No harm done.”

You took a sip of your drink and looked behind you to see your aunt tounging your date, and you sighed. “Any plans for halloween?”

“I’m working on it,” he agreed. Holidates once again.

Max would murder him. He didn’t feel too guilty about it.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

Halloween rolled around and Lando put you in a fucking pirates costume with a very tight corset, but you understood that’s what you get when you put a dude in charge of costumes. You sat with your sister at the bar, waiting for Lando to catch your eye when you felt hands around your waist.

“Ahoy mate,” he whispered, giggling.

“Fuck!” you jumped. “You scared me!”

He laughed, then stopped when he actually looked at you. “The costume looks… amazing,” he smiled, starstruck.

“Thanks I feel like a total slut,” you joked.

“Well you look like one too,” Abby added. “Go get a drink or something,” you scoffed, shooing her off. You turned to Lando. “What’s the plan for tonight?”

“Get fucked up?”

“Sounds perfect!” you smiled, then took a swig of your beer. The night went off with some dancing, some chocolate, and then in came Luc with a very pregnant Nicola.

Pregnant. Pregnant. She was fucking pregnant. You stood there in stunned silence as everyone caught up, shocked at the fact that she was pregnant.

“Holy fuck! She’s pregnant, pregnant!” you complained as you walked through the party, feeling increasingly sick.

“Come on, you just need a drink,” Abby scoffed, handing you some punch.

Your stomach turned. “No, no, I’m really sick,” you shook your head, bracing yourself against the table.

“Are you alright?” Lando asked, holding your waist.

“No,” you leaned into him. “Not at all.”

“Should I bring you home?” he offered.

“I’ll just get a cab, I’m alright-”

“Holidate rule number three, never leave a date behind,” he reminded you, so you let him get in the cab with you.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

It hurt. It hurt so bad. Mixing alcohol with red dye 40 and about 50 mini candy bars was not a good idea. You whined as Lando had to physically pick you up and carry you to the lift of your aparmtnt,

“Wait, she’s due next week right?” you did the maths in your head. “They did it on Valentine’s day!” you sobbed.

“Everyone does it on Valentine’s day,” he reasoned.

“I didn’t!” you screamed.

He thought back. “Hey! I didn’t either!”

Then the lift dinged and he dragged you in, listening as you spiralled.

Then that awful noise. Then the awful feeling.

“Untie me,” you said, your voice low, sober.

“Huh?”

“Untie me,” you instructed, gasping at the strings of your corset.

“What- how the fuck do you untie this?” he asked, gripping at the strings.

“I don’t know! Just untie it!” you shouted.

“I can’t, it’s like-”

“Rip it Lando, fucking rip it!” you shouted.

“I’m trying, it’s-”

The elevator dinged and behind the doors an old couple appeared, looking less than impressed. You realised how bad it looked, but truly, it was much worse than what they were thinking. They closed again, and up another floor they went.

You needed to get to a toilet, now.

You both ran to your door, him ripping off your corset at the last moment before you shut the bathroom door, and thankfully you made it, but not without sobbing crying on the toilet. Fuck your sister and her accidentally giving you laxatives.

You sat in your bath as he held the shower head to your back.

“Don’t even look at me,” you sighed.

“I’m not,” he said, and he wasn’t. He was trying his absolute hardest not to look at you. Even though you’d almost actually shit yourself, even though he’d heard you sobbing crying, somehow, you were still the most gorgeous person he’d ever seen, and as much as he wanted to he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He looked back at you and smiled, when he was sure you weren’t looking. Something in his heart leaped, and he knew he should’ve been weary, but he almost didn’t care.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You sat in bed as he brought you a glass of water and you sighed. “So… I guess I’ll be a story you tell at parties now? Half of Monaco will know me as the girl who-”

“The girl who shit her pants on Halloween?”

You groaned. “Fuck off.”

He chuckled. “I meant it when I said I’d seen worse, and don’t worry, I won't tell anyone. Promise.”

You turned back around to face him and smiled. “Thank you.”

He offered you a soft smile, and you both fell asleep like that.

Waking up? That was a different story. You gently opened your eyes to see a very asleep Lando. His eyes scrunched up, an arm around you, his face closer to yours than it had ever been, and you smiled. The way his nose scrunched up, the moles on his face, his long eyelashes, I mean… you knew he was gorgeous before but up close? It was practically unfair.

Then his eyes fluttered open, and he moved his arm back, staring at you the same way you were staring at him. Again, another moment. His eyes on you, having him so close. It all drove you crazy.

He didn’t feel much different. He was tired of this charade, pretending he wasn’t head over heels in love with you. Like he didn’t clear his schedule the second you’d asked him if he was free on Halloween. Then he moved closer, as if he was going to kiss you. He knew you wanted it too-

You covered your mouth with the covers. “I hate it when people kiss in the morning in movies, I think it’s disgusting,” you chuckled.

He laughed. God, you were adorable. He smiled at you for a moment, then moved your hand down, looking to you for approval. You nodded, and he kissed you.

And it was everything you’d ever wanted in a kiss. The sparks flying, the silent feelings, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. Lando made you feel like that. He made you feel… amazing. And it was everything he’d ever wanted in a kiss too.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You resurfaced after your soft morning sex and stood in the kitchen, both of you a little bit sweaty and tired.

“We should probably-”

“You can go, if you want,” you offered, hoping you hadn’t said the wrong thing. Lando was a famous, rich guy, he probably had casual sex all the time. You didn’t want to be one of those crazy girls that thinks that sex ties you to a person (even thought it was more than just sex to you), so you have to let him go, right?

He looked like a deer in headlights. “Do you want me to leave?”

“I mean, I don’t mind. I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay or anything-”

“Obligated?” he questioned.

“Well, Halloween is over, right? Holidate ending? See you at Thanksgiving?” you joked.

His heart broke slightly. “Right.”

Then the doorbell rang.

You ran over, opening it as quickly as you could, only to reveal your sister, absolutely trashed. Lando stood against the counter, sighing. How could he let himself fuck this up too? You were amazing. You were the best thing that had happened to him all year. It was ridiculous how much he looked forward to your calls and texts, how often he checked his phone just to see the ‘group photo’ of you, him, Max, and your family that he’d taken at the wedding. You, with his arms around you. Even if you two were fighting that week, you still chose to stand beside him in the photo, and let him hold you. That meant more to him than anything. He groaned, hitting his head against a cabinet. How did he fuck it all up?

“I kissed the black panther!” Abby sobbed. “I kissed the guy, at the party, dressed as the black panther!”

“W-what?” you scoffed, holding her as she cried, sending a ‘help me’ look Lando’s way.

“I am a terrible person!” she screamed into a pillow sobbing.

“Morning Abby,” Lando smiled. She stopped crying and turned her attention to him.

“Morning Land… holy shit you two had sex!”

“We did not!” you argued.

“We didn't?” Lando asked, his voice quieter than usual. He put down his coffee mug.

“Oh…” Abby sighed. “I should- I should go.”

“NO! No, you- you stay! I’ll make some breakfast-” you pleaded, grabbing her hand.

“It’s alright Abby, you stay, I’ll go,” Lando nodded, grabbing the last bits of his costume. “Okay?” he looked to you, hoping against hope that you’d ask him to stay. You didn’t. “Okay.”

“Bye! See you at Thanksgiving!”

The look he gave you as he was leaving told you he wouldn’t call you again.

How did you always fuck everything up?

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

“Mate, she shoved me out the door,” Lando sighed, doing anything but looking over the data.

Will sighed. “She didn’t even want a cuddle?”

“Nothing! We had half a cup of coffee in blissful silence, then she kicked me out!” he groaned. “Ugh! Why is dating so hard!”

Will chuckled. “It’s alright mate, there’s plenty of other fish in the sea-”

“But they’re not Y/n! I want Y/n. I want my Y/n,” he whined. “Y’know what the last thing she said to me was? ‘See you at Thanksgiving’, like it didn’t even mean anything to her. Like I was fucking meaningless.”

“At least you’ve still got her as a Holidate-”

“I cannot do that anymore,” he admitted. “I can’t just… pretend to be in love with her when I actually am.”

“No, mate, you’ve got to keep going with it. You just act like nothing has changed and she’ll come crawling back. It’s a foolproof idea!” ౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

God, you hated Thanksgiving. Your mother couldn’t cook, your sister was busy asking you about that guy she kissed at the party, and Lando was nowhere to be seen. As you opened the front door ready to run to the supermarket and buy an entire Thanksgiving feast, you were met with the face of Lando Norris.

“Hi,” he smiled sadly.

“Hi,” you smiled. “I have to run to the store so you can…”

“Great,” he nodded. “I’ll drive.”

You had realised that in the 11 months you’d known each other, you hadn’t ever driven with him. “Not too fast, not all of us have the neck of an F1 driver,” you teased, hoping to lighten the mood. He just nodded with a reserved smile on his face. Challenge failed.

You sat in the car as he drove (definitely over the speed limit), awkwardly wondering what to say.

“How have you been?” he asked, his hands gripping the wheel.

“Good, busy,” you explained. “You?” “Good. Busy,” he answered, his hands gripping the wheel even harder. You were both silent for a moment. “Are we seriously just going to pretend it never happened?”

“That works for me,” you nodded, thinking that’s what he really wanted.

“Well, for the record, I wasn’t the one who wanted to leave that morning,” he sighed.

“It’s not like you were asking to stay, plus, you didn’t even want to have sex with me in the first place. You’re not attracted to me, remember?”

“Why can’t you let that go?”

“Because when a guy opens with the fact that he doesn’t find you attractive, it kind of sets the tone for the relationship-”

“I was some random guy at the mall, what would you have said if I opened with ‘hi I think you’re insanely beautiful’?!”

You both paused for a second.

“Y/n, come on. Everything about you is beautiful. Your smile, your personality, your humour. You would’ve never gone out with me, definitely not on New Year’s.”

You were both quiet again.

“Does that change anything for you?” he looked at you, eyes pleading. You had to make a choice.

“No.”Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes. Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.

Why did you have to be so good at protecting yourself?

“Fucking hell- you’re trying so hard not to feel anything because you’re scared of getting hurt, so you’re lying to the both of us-”

“Maybe I just don’t feel the same, Lando. Not every girl will fall at your fucking feet,” you scoffed.

“Fine. Enjoy the rest of your holidays, alone, at the kids table, blaming everyone but yourself for your problems.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

How did you fuck it up so badly? You walked back in.

“Where’s Lando?” Abby asked.

“Don’t know, don’t care.”

“What? What did you do?” Your brother asked.

“What makes you think it was my fault?” you scoffed.

“You should call him, he’s a good guy,” Abby added. “You should just call and apologise.”

“Why do you think it was my fault?”

“Well if you were honest with him we could probably get through one holiday without your personal life ruining dinner for everyone,” your mother sighed.

“My personal life?” you scoffed.

“Is a mess,” Abby interjected.

“Ok, my personal life might be a perpetual mess but at least I didn’t kiss some randomer at Halloween!” you argued.

“You fucking bitch,” she cursed.

A chorus of ‘who’, ‘what’ and ‘how’ quickly fell upon the room, until it was all drowned out by Peter, her husband.

“You kissed someone else?”

You clapped a hand over your mouth. “I am so sorry I thought you’d told him-”

“I saw no tongue,” York, your brother added.

“You saw and didn’t tell me?” Liz questioned.

“You can’t keep a secret,” he shrugged.

“How would you know that, you know nothing about me!” she scoffed, getting up.

“I trusted you!” Peter cried. “You went alone, I-I thought I could trust you-”

“I go everywhere without, a-and you never have any time for me because you’re always stressing about the kids-”

“One of us has to!” he shouted.

Then your aunt’s date had a literal heart attack, and you were all stuck in silence as the ambulance rolled away with him inside. He would be fine, but you and your aunt went with him (not by choice) just for good measure. He was fine in the end and your aunt even met the love of her life at the hospital.

Shittiest Thanksgiving ever.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

As Christmas rolled around and you watched the F1 season come to a close, you watched as Lando finished second in the standings, just behind Oscar. You missed him. You missed texting and calling him, you missed watching him crack bad jokes and laugh until his stomach hurt, you missed his fluffy hair and pretty face.

You missed it all. The worst part was that he was right. You were just too afraid of being in love and putting your heart on the line, that you messed up the best thing that had ever happened to you.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

He walked through the same mall that he’d met you in a full year ago, and he sighed. He was empty, alone in Chicago once again, and he was done. Another chance at a WDC that he pissed away, and he was really starting to wonder if he truly had a place in the sport. Then he thought back to you, the way you liked him even without his race suit, without his money, without everything everyone else liked him for. You. He chuckled, he was probably just another Holidate to you, someone you wouldn’t even think about.

Then he saw you as the escalators passed, and the way you looked at him gave him a glimmer of hope that he was wrong, that you did care. But you were gone in a flash and he knew he should just let it die.

“There he was!” Abby squealed. “Go talk to him!”

“I can't, I'd just… it wouldn’t work. He hates me!”

“Y/n, life is giving you a moment right now, take it!”

And that’s how you ended up with a microphone in hand in the middle of a mall desperately trying to get the love of your life back.

Thankfully, he said yes. And yes, it was videoed and put on the internet hundreds of times, too bad he’s a public figure.

But that didn’t matter. You two were happy.

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

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