never not mine, m | jjk | "... in your eyes."
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
You'll find that you were never not mine. Wandering sometimes leads to finding. Finding sometimes leads to the truth. The truth sometimes leads to pinning someone to the wall and kissing them. But only if it feels right.
part i | part ii | this is part iii
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; sloooow burn; exes-to-lovers / second chance romance; angst and fluff and feels; your POV; smut (nipple play, scratching / marking, handjob, cum-eating / feeding, fingering, penetrative sex - missionary, doggy)
non-idol!AU; fashion model!Jungkook — ft fellow model/actor!Kim Taehyung and model/businessman!Kim Seokjin; reader is not part of the entertainment industry
--
“What is the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?”
The most important lesson I’ve learned, huh… I think I would say that even though this world is difficult, tough, downright unbearable at times, it is okay to be comforted by the small things. I think a lot of people ignore those small things when they’re upset since they seem frivolous or out-of-touch to appreciate when you are having a hard time. But those are the most important times to enjoy them. We should not feel guilty about a small happiness. A taste of a favorite sweet. The sunset sky when you look up. Laughing with a friend even though everything around you feels dark. These moments will become the stars that will light up your universe in this black world.
For such a friendly, unassuming young man in a suit, he had been such a poet.
At first, you wondered if this was something you could apply on to your life. You had asked, it works in reverse too, doesn’t it?
He had tilted his head, inquisitive. What do you mean?
Small, painful things can slowly but surely break a reverie too, if you don’t take notice of them.
Ah. You’re right.
Each conversation had been insightful in its own way. The woman in the white dress. The most important lesson I’ve learned is loyalty. You might not make as much money or be as famous as you would if you turned your back on someone, but money and fame are fleeting. If you nurture those around you well, you will live a fulfilled life. The man with the silvery-blonde hair and white dress shirt. What an odd question. For me… to be proud of doing what I want to do, even if I may not measure up to the success of others. When I was younger, I thought it was more important to reach a massive audience, to have many people see my color. But now... I don’t think that’s what I want. I want to be an important part of someone’s life, short-term or long-term. I want my time to count to those who count. The woman in a tight denim number and lots of colorful bracelets. It’s important to be yourself. No one walks the same path. You might be too much for some but you might be just right for others, and those people will end up understand you best. The last one, a man with a bright smile and black dress shirt that seemed to barely contain his energy. An important lesson, huh? I guess I would say, go for it. Sometimes I’m uneasy or not confident in a new situation, and I have to remember to just go for it. Yeah, I think I’ve learned a lot from just doing rather than thinking too long about it. The only thing holding me back was being scared. But, being scared doesn’t mean you can’t take action. It means you can, because you have the strength to acknowledge your fear.
Yes, well.
Going for it sort of ended in smashing over a million won worth of liquor into the ground.
You couldn’t blame the advice though. Honestly, you were glad for it. You were glad for each and every connection you made tonight with those strangers. You weren’t sure if Kim Seokjin had set it all up or if each one had approached from their own curiosity. A mixture of both, maybe. Before, they had all been only pretty faces. A shallow judgement for each individual’s hopes, dreams, and realities. You were sure that was Seokjin’s plan – for you to see for yourself what kind of world you were in.
Maybe not so vapid after all.
A little silly, perhaps.
“Hmph, well, at least I can thank you for not letting me walk into a porn scene.”
You winced as Kim Seokjin folded his arms. You both had stopped at the end of the hallway with Seokjin waving the guards away to speak to you directly. Your feet were mildly hurting from standing up for so long. It could have also been due to the emotionally draining past hour.
“I had no intentions of that,” you protested.
Those perfect brows furrowed in disbelief. “Uh huh.”
You made a face. “Nothing was happening back there.”
“Uh huh,” Seokjin tittered again.
You couldn’t keep looking up at him anymore. He held a hand up as you shifted your eyes to the wall, crossing your arms too. Mostly to keep warm. And to hide a bit.
“Nu uh, I don’t want to know what dirty things you two were talking about.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “It’s not like that–”
Seokjin cut you off abruptly. “Did it help?” he inquired pointedly. “Did smashing one of my most expensive bottles of alcohol provide the catharsis you were looking for?”
You felt your cheeks heat. “S-Sorry, I’ll pay for it–”
“Hmph!” He sounded and looked offended. “I don’t need money. I have plenty of that. What I don’t have plenty of is somewhat sane people in my life. I watched you destroy public property and slap one of my security guys as if it was a normal Friday night for you.”
You cowered a bit. “Ah… I’ll apologize to him too.”
Seokjin sighed. He was a refined man with a hint of childishness that gave him eternal youth.
“I was glad to see it.”
He laughed slightly, shaking his head. You stared at him.
“I was nearly afraid that dating Jeon Jungkook had broken you.”
Wait.
“Broken me?”
His large shoulders slumped a little. “Ah, it was… It was so obvious. With Jungkook, too. It was as if the light had been sucked out of him. And you. There was a coldness about you that formed. I worried if you could hear all the whispers behind hands. Hoped Jungkook-ah had shielded you from them or, I don’t know, made you impervious somehow. But you could feel it too, couldn’t you? The ostracization. And he had contributed to it, in time.”
He had noticed.
That was enough to touch your heart.
You faltered. “It’s none of your fault. Or his circle of friends.”
Seokjin waved his hand. “Of course not. But it was still there. Hearing mindless droning all day is still a minor annoyance that builds up to a hornet’s nest over time. And I – no, we – spoke up too late.” He lowered his arms, defeated. “There isn’t much I can do, I know. But I wanted you to know that not everyone among us feels that way. Not everyone has their head in the clouds. Not just my circle of friends, but lots of people in this industry are good people with good intentions who are much better at comforting words than I am.”
You felt a surge of gratitude. Maybe for the first time tonight, you felt like crying. You lifted your head to soft, black brown eyes that were the windows to a big heart.
“Thank you.”
He seemed taken aback. “Ah… Right. Yes, you’re welcome,” he mumbled awkwardly.
You bowed to him.
“S-Stop that!” He smacked your shoulder with a mix of panic and defiance. “Don’t be ridiculous. And, anyway, I didn’t even succeed! You still ended up in an altercation with that big-nosed dongsaeng of mine. Hah…”
You laughed a little. “Ah, I’m sorry about that too. It was my fault he was so riled up.”
Seokjin gave you a contemptuous look that would put even the most disapproving aunt to shame. “No, really?”
You tried not to laugh. He was making it very difficult. It was probably the designer suit and corporately-parted hair mixed with his cartoonish reaction. “Please don’t be too hard on him.”
He made a disgruntled face as if he had to deal with an obnoxious puppy. “You should be worried about me. I’m sure he’s back there stomping his feet and being a stubborn little shit. Hah, well. I’ll have security escort you to your car waiting outside. Don’t slap anybody.”
You pouted. His youthfulness was infectious. “Aish, I won’t. I know my limits.”
“If only your other half did.” Seokjin threw up his hands in exasperation. “Go before I change my mind.”
He wouldn’t.
You backed off anyway, letting Seokjin saunter off, and was greeted halfway to the door by a kind security guard who didn’t ask if you were going to slap him. He did seem amused though. He was professional enough to keep it to himself, leading you to a side entrance where a black car was waiting to take you home after a very long and enlightening night.
-
Night felt different now.
Days felt different too, but the change wasn’t as obvious due to the hours consumed by work. There was plenty of distraction during the day, although you became strangely aware to how the world seemed different. How the sunlight seemed brighter. How there seemed to be a rhythm to the birds’ wings as they flapped away. How you occasionally caught yourself scanning the faces on streets, looking for something.
Someone.
But the sunset is when you noticed the shadows dancing around you. As the day died, you watched people slip from their responsibilities to their desires. A warm meal. A visit to the store to pick up a visual treat or a world within pages. A chance to see a familiar face, ending in a hug or, if lucky, a kiss. Stories within bodies.
You, too.
You found yourself at the movie theater again. You spent a moment, scanning the titles, picking an action movie you had never heard of. Even splurged for the popcorn, shaking it up in the bag with the salty, garlicky powder getting on your fingertips. You spotted a few clusters of friends. Couples. But also a few single individuals that were busy getting comfortable in their seats, placing their belongings just so, as if they did this all the time.
So, you too, sat down and placed your black bow purse beside you, adjusting your popcorn bag to the perfect snacking distance. It was exciting as the lights dimmed to black, enjoying the music score in surround sound, sucked into another world of imaginary action that you could safely enjoy despite all the bullets.
With popcorn, of course.
It felt different now.
It was only after you made your way home that you realized why.
And you smiled.
Another night, you decided to stop by the mall. Not to buy anything really, but to listen to the music at each of the stores. In this day and age of everything online, it was rare for you to make the effort. It was different now though, somehow. Honestly, not so bad. You purchased an overpriced drink and pretended to look at all the clothes as you listened to what was popular right now. Occasionally, you heard something interesting and pulled out your phone to search for the title of the song vis one of the lyrics, the usual way you used to do it. There were definitely apps for identifying songs instantly now, you thought, but there was something hands on and extra satisfying of replicating an old process.
You found yourself in front of a wall of skirts.
You looked up at the colors, the patterns, and saw nothing of what was currently in your wardrobe.
At work, you were required to dress semi-professionally. A lot of single-color blouses, long black skirts, simple silhouette dresses. A cardigan was your idea of spicing it up. In fact, today you were in a maroon button-up blouse with a high neck and billowy sleeves, and your signature long black skirt. Black heels with a cross strap detail, nothing special. Before, while you were dating Jungkook, you had borrowed a lot of clothes, as they had been required for specific events. Transactions. Nothing you personally owned, nor needed to. Even the small, tight dresses that you had purchased for dates you didn’t own anymore. You had donated them all. They had been purchased with the intent to look like a model’s girlfriend. Not to look like, well.
Yourself.
A pink gingham miniskirt with small red strawberries stitched onto it caught your eye.
You left the store with a brown bag with a few parcels wrapped in pink tissue paper and a lighter bank account. Did you know where you were going to wear these clothes? Nope. It was different, buying without a purpose, and yet.
It was an excuse to find an occasion.
You settled on a bench with a smile.
You held your drink and lifted your head, watching people walk past. Seeing glimpses of their stories through the windows of shops. A surprised face at seeing something they wanted. A look of bliss once they took a sniff of a scented candle. A wringing of hands in front of a gift shop, running out of time and paralyzed by decision. You took a sip, wondering if they would be successful. Your thoughts wandered, as they always did. I have someone. Individual realities parallel to yours, with the occasional interaction a demonstration of interaction. Moments that required moving against the natural course for a purpose. Sometimes a brief purpose, and sometimes entangled because they wanted to be.
The question was, did you want to be?
You had become aware of how your line had been. Dulled by distraction, lacking intersections, moving the lonely course without remorse. All the small things becoming a blur of monotony. The roses had become colorless from the coldness that you had inadvertently held onto.
Bit by bit, you were finding color once more.
You stood up with your empty cup, hurrying to find the appropriate trash can to dispose it in.
“Hey, excuse me!”
You started.
A mother with her arm around a small child’s shoulders waved at you. “Your shopping.”
“Oh, sh–sorry!”
You went back, bowing repeatedly as you picked up the brown bag, startled that you had forgotten your quite expensive purchases. The child shook their head at you. You sheepishly laughed, letting yourself be scolded by the kid. “An adult shouldn’t be so careless!” Well, that was a bit harsh, but you thanked them anyway, waving as you parted.
You turned around, returning to your escape route.
Careless, huh?
Maybe the kid was right.
Someone in black was walking down the path. A man. He was walking fast. An oversized grey beanie with dark hair poking out. Body drowning in a slashed black hoodie and ripped jeans. Black boots. Black face mask. It was a bit odd because he was wearing sunglasses inside. Still, there was no reason for you to look twice. He looked up.
Somehow you knew your eyes had met.
You slowed down.
Jeon Jungkook slowed down, reaching up to remove his glasses.
Would your eyes have met if you hadn’t had to double back to retrieve your shopping bag?
If you weren’t careless?
You saw him catch his breath as soon as he knew it was you. You weren’t sure how he knew. Then again, how did you know? This entire adventure had been on a whim. He stopped at a reasonable distance from you, and half-lowered his face mask, as if to greet you. But neither of you could utter a word. You held your small black purse that you haven’t changed in several years. It was a simple design with the designer embossed in very small font above a leather bow sewed flush to the front. Unremarkable, really, unless you knew.
And he knew, because Jungkook had brought it for you.
The first gift at the very beginning. He looked from the bag to you. Wondering if he should comment on it. He hesitated, and you understood why. Two parallel lines. No interaction would occur unless one moved against the natural course and doing so would be, well.
Careless.
“I hope,” you started, cautiously. Something flickered in those big brown orbs. “I hope Kim Seokjin didn’t scold you too much.”
He lowered his head a bit, half-laughing and half-scowling. “I did get a scolding for causing a commotion.”
“It was my fault,” you acknowledged once again.
He shook his head. “No, it was mine.”
You half-smiled. “Wanna fight about it?”
Jungkook raised his head, still holding onto the bottom of his face mask. You could see the mirth in his stance. It was almost as if there wasn’t a weighing limbo trapped between you and him.
“Actually, yeah.”
Almost immediately, you saw him falter, as if he knew he shouldn’t say something like that. You felt a sting witnessing it. He opened his mouth, and you almost heard it, his casual, just kidding, and this wasn’t like him at all.
“Hey, Jungkook.”
You interrupted him before he could add, just kidding. He stiffened, exposing hints of the printed white t-shirt under the tears of his hoodie. You were both occupying space on the walkway. People needed to walk around, some unbothered, some slighted by the inconvenience. His name on your tongue felt foreign and familiar at the same time. An end and a beginning all at once.
I have someone.
So did you.
You smiled.
“It’s really good to see you out and about.”
His eyes widened. You hoped he could tell that you meant it. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat a bit, trying to eliminate the sudden croak. “Yeah. You too. I’m…” His eyes shifted a bit. He was always focused on you, regardless. “I’m glad I ran into you today.”
And maybe that was it.
You were okay with that, though. That might have previously been a lie, but not now. It was probably unnecessary to say. Perhaps you had spoken up for some sort of closure, for both you and him. A chapter ended in some way.
He rubbed the back of his neck, ticking his head to the brown bag by your side. “You came to shop today?”
You held it up halfway with a chuckle. “Ah, well… It wasn’t the plan. Ended up that way.” You noticed the way he intently observed your actions. Couldn’t avoid it, really. You lowered the bag, not hiding even though it was maybe the better thing to do. “What about you?”
He paused. Had he forgotten already? You watched him gain his bearings with bemused patience.
“Ah, I…”
Jungkook looked and sounded embarrassed.
“What the hell,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Actually, I cancelled a shoot last minute.”
Your head tilted. “I’m surprised. That’s not like you.”
His pink lips upturned. You could spot that tiny mole underneath them, right at the center. “Yeah…” He trailed off, unable to meet your gaze. Ashamed, almost.
“It’s okay, though,” you offered. You hated to see that expression on his face. “You did what you felt was right. These things happen.”
He scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t cancelled a shoot since…” He stopped.
You waited.
Jungkook glanced at you. You saw a pink twinge dust across his cheekbones.
“Since I first asked you out.”
You blinked at him. “What are you talking about?” You frowned. “I don’t remember anything like that.”
He winced and looked up at the ceiling, rocking on his heels a bit. “Actually, I… I lied. I pretended I wasn’t getting any bookings. Just to spend time with you in the beginning. But, uh, then I felt guilty. I wasn’t the man I thought I needed to be. The man you deserved.” He sighed, yanking one of his hands out to scratch his eyebrow absentmindedly. “But maybe I never was, because then I got swept up in all that bullshit.”
Jungkook looked down.
“I know it’s too late to say such things now.”
He seemed to collapse a little bit despite his tall frame.
“Now, it’s…” He sighed. “I can’t concentrate at all. I keep asking myself what I’m doing. For a while there I kept working in hopes that you would…” He grimaced again, but chose to ramble on anyway. “So you would still see me everywhere. Stupid, huh? And now it’s just…” He shook his head. “I think I should give up.”
You didn’t know what to say.
He took a deep breath and straightened. “Ah, my bad. I went on for nothing.” Bowing slightly, backing away. “I have a lot on my mind. I didn’t expect to run into you and now I’ve run my mouth like a madman.”
“Jungkook.”
His name came out of your mouth before you registered it. He stopped moving, looking back at you, halfway between pulling up his face mask. You struggled to find the words, clutching your unexpected purchases and your racing heart, his first present to you against your ribs.
“Don’t give up.”
You made sure not to break eye contact.
“It’s not like you to give up, you know. It’s my… my favorite thing about you.”
He seemed stunned.
“R… Really?”
You couldn’t help but smile. Nervously albeit fiercely determined.
“One of many.” You relaxed a bit, relieved that you were able to say so. You laughed a little at the absurdity of it all. “Although perhaps we need to stop doing these kinds of things in public.”
Jungkook jumped, seemingly realizing all the people around too. “Ah… Whoops.”
You bowed as you spoke. “Then, I’ll…”
The way he said your name, so soft and dreamlike, made you freeze mid-movement. He seemed flustered, stepping a little closer to you. It was the correct moment to pull back, replace some respective distance between you and him to keep a measure of strangers, and yet.
You let your eyes meet his under wisps of black hair sticking out of his beanie.
“Can we spend a little more time together? If it’s not too much trouble?”
It was. You had work tomorrow. You needed to get home and put away your things. Wash up. Do your nightly routine to unwind. Get back to being a responsible adult with responsibilities living a responsible life.
Your lips curved into a mischievous smile.
“Sure.”
-
“Where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere.”
You were standing by his motorbike now. His pride and joy, yet you knew it was rarely used in his day-to-day life. For the best, probably, considering the risk. You weren’t surprised to see it today though. He always rode when he felt frustrated or out of it. The walk here had been silent, which you had expected. Jungkook was the king of speaking without a plan. You didn’t mind it, though. It reminded you of good times.
He awkwardly shuffled, obviously realizing that himself now.
“Hey.”
“Uh?” he answered distractedly.
“Why did you ask me out back then?”
He fumbled with his hands a bit. “Ah, that’s…”
You tilted your head, patiently waiting.
“I…” He stuttered a bit. Cleared his throat again. “I just couldn’t help but look twice. I thought you were hot as hell.”
You almost snorted. “Don’t you encounter enough of that at work?” you chuckled.
He shook his head. “No, it’s more like… Um, even if they’re attractive, everyone knows it is pretty for a purpose. They’re all taking care of themselves. Looks are the selling point, after all.” He poked at his own chest. “Me too.” He raised his head to you. “But you’re different. You don’t have to think about how you look will reflect in a paycheck. You take care of yourself for yourself.”
You thought about it. It didn’t seem that extraordinary. “Well, anybody can do that.”
He smirked.
“If anybody could do it, why could I only see you?”
Heat rushed to your cheeks. You raised a hand to smack him and stopped short. Instead, you let your hand fall and half-rolled your eyes. “Ehhh, don’t try to pull that stuff on me.”
He laughed behind his hand. “Have to try.”
You frowned with feigned annoyance. Jungkook had always been taller than you, even in heels, assuming you weren’t opting for miniature stilts. Still, you always had the impression he was never looking down at you, but up, even when his eyes were downcast.
“Yeah, that.”
You narrowed your eyes. “What?”
“That look you’re giving me right now,” he chuckled sheepishly. “I knew you’d be able to balance me out and set me straight.”
You squinted at him. You let out a puff of air and looked away, tumbled into memories where maybe you could have been the one to change the course of these parallel lines. “Yeah, and look where that got us,” you muttered.
Sigh.
Somewhere behind you, a car honked loudly.
“Standing next to each other?” Jungkook quietly asked.
Two cars were having trouble at an intersection at the end of the row.
Standing next to each other.
Your gaze drifted back and locked with his. He didn’t try to hide the emotions his eyes. You were quite sure he could see through you too. The impasse remained, not because a bridge couldn’t be built, but because it couldn’t bear to be burned once more. Once more meant it would crumble to ash and disappear forever. You had thought it already had, until tonight.
You tried to reason with the unreasonable. “You cannot believe you skipping work and me deciding to spend a good chunk of my paycheck to mean some serendipitous shit, can you?” you scoffed.
He gave you that brilliant smile that had tamed you from the very beginning.
“You–”
You poked him hard in the chest.
“Ahh!”
Jungkook must not have expected that at all.
He almost fell over.
Your hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of his hoodie, dragging him back. His body lurched, slightly off balance, and your elbow swung forward, bracing onto his abs, leaving your faces close enough together for bystanders to get the wrong idea. For him to get the wrong idea. For you, too. You were close enough to count his eyelashes.
Enough time elapsed that you might as well have.
“What… What is with you?” you muttered, gripping his clothes. “You’re so… dramatic.”
He had another piercing on the side of his right lip now. Huh. How come you didn’t notice? Probably too busy being mad at him. Or not staring at his lips in fear of indecent thoughts. This current proximity and shared heat were not helping. His hands were somehow on your shoulders. Probably to steady himself. Or something else. You weren’t sure.
Jungkook stared at your lips.
You didn’t back away.
He leaned down and kissed you.
He must be an idiot to put you both in this position again. You must be an idiot too, because you kissed him back. Fuck it. Your hand on his chest relaxed, fingers spreading out, pressing your lips to his, breathing him in. He still used the same cologne you had complimented on back then. It made you smile into his lips. His tense hands on your shoulders fluttered, one slipping down to your upper arm, the other grazing your neck. His thumb brushing the side of your cheek. His other fingers weaving into your hair, tilting his head slightly. No promises, but.
A dream made.
You tapped his chest, forcing him to break the connection.
“W… What?” Jungkook gasped, his short breath mixing into yours.
“Not… Not here,” you chuckled, feeling your racing pulse in your throat. “I think we’ve done enough public reconciliation. Adding public indecency is not it. Someone is going to recognize you soon.”
Those shadowed eyes watching you were telling you he was ready to risk it.
“No,” you gritted, punching his chest lightly. Surprisingly, Jungkook did not budge and held on very strongly to your arm. “Stop that. Stop it with the sex eyes.”
He grinned. You could tell from the way his eyes crinkled. “Is it working?”
You pried yourself from him with some effort.
“All you’re telling me is that you really like handcuffs.”
“Promise?”
You straightened your clothes and answered absentmindedly. “Promise what?” You looked up to give him an indignant expression. He took your purchases to place them in the back of his motorcycle, giving you no verbal response.
Just a sneaky smirk in return.
-
“What did you think was gonna happen?”
“Uh…”
Before he could make another sound, you grabbed Jeon Jungkook by the collar and dragged him to you.
It was different.
Just not in the way you thought it would be.
Part of you thought to hold back. Build a solid foundation to see if this would work. Talk for a long while, move slow, step by recommended step. Then again, if you actually believed that, you would have instructed him to take you back to your apartment. Maybe send him off with a kiss and a pat on the head. You know. The complete opposite of shoving him up against his living room wall and tracing your tongue over his moaning lips with his hands gripping your waist. If this was going to work, it was always going to work. It didn’t matter if it was the wrong way or the right way.
This love was either going down in a blaze of glory or start an everlasting fire.
Might as well get on the ride.
You let him kiss down your neck, your hands sliding down to his. Interlocking fingers. Shivering at the sensation of his lips in your skin, familiar and new. Body-to-body. You pulled up his hands to force him to lose the top layers, including the beanie, exposing his toned chest and gleaming tattoos going from his right hand to his shoulder. His hoodie and t-shirt fell to the floor in a soft thump. His hair was different than when you had last seen him. Sides shaven, the top still long, messy black waves due to being crammed into the beanie. He flicked his head back, sending black strands all over his half-moon eyes, glistening pink lips parted in a soundless gasp.
You took his wrists and pinned Jungkook to the wall.
Panting, watching him under you despite looking upwards.
“W… What?” he breathed, locked in your transfixed stare.
It was different, yet it was the same. You could feel it. There could have been many others between the last time and right now. You knew there wasn’t. It was both sad and validating, because you knew how much he hated being alone, but now you knew there was truth to those promises he had said to you between sheets and pillows.
You leaned down and licked a wet, fat stripe over his chest, dripping saliva all over him.
Jungkook moaned, leaning his head against the wall.
“You belong to me,” you whispered over his heart. Raised your head and he was looking back at you.
Only you.
“I belong to you,” he whispered back.
You skimmed your lips over his skin.
“Prove it to me.”
He surrendered.
To your tongue, tracing patterns over his collarbones. To your lips, dotting kisses and making him flinch, whining for more. To your hands, holding him down and at your mercy, exploring him with sight, touch, and taste. You let go of one of his wrists to trail your nails over his abdomen, observing the way his body rippled, lifting towards you as sensitivity increased. You let your fingers wander, around his waist and into shaded territory, running your nails down his spine, watching his reaction. His head tilted back, hair in wisps around his temples, dark eyes clouded in lust.
Your name slipped from his lips.
You dug your nails into his lower back and pulled yourself up, unable to keep the side of your lips from curving upwards at his delicious whines.
“Take off my blouse.”
His fingertips slid across the slinky maroon fabric. Button by button, the fabric began to unravel in his hands, your forehead to his as he did so. You took his breath, tracing his muscles, murmuring his name just to feel him shiver as he heard it.
“I never had anyone else after you,” he mumbled, circling one of the buttons with his thumb. “I couldn’t.”
“You could have,” you hummed. “You were a free man.”
Jungkook undid the last button and stared into your eyes.
“No, I’m not.”
You half-smiled. “I wouldn’t take it personally.”
He leaned in again, brushing your lips with his.
“I belong to you.”
His touch, his kiss, the dance of mesmerizing senses. You stepped back. He followed. Tangled in each other, your blouse slipping off and dropping to the floor. Your bra unclasped, tumbling, his hands all over, places he had been a million times and desiring forevermore, squeezing your breasts with his hands, almost tripping over your skirt as you stepped out of it. His pants joined the trail of passion, and then his tongue was on you, lifting you in his arms and tasting your hard nipples with your hands in his hair, clutching his head for support with your legs around his waist.
“I’m going to fall,” you gasped, breathless.
“Over my dead body,” was the muffled answer with his face buried into your breasts. “Fuck, I love your ass.”
Perhaps to avoid death getting two for the price of one, Jungkook let you down, devouring you with kisses with your taste lingering on his lips, sinking his fingers into the soft curves. You curled your tongue against his, making him moan, hips grinding against hips, feeling his insistent hardness against your softness, trapping himself between your legs. You were still in your panties and he was still in his boxer briefs, although the thin fabrics were merely a nuisance to the inevitable.
“Jungkook…”
He was thrusting into you and jamming his cock in between your thighs, his strong arms wrapped around you and his teeth on your shoulder. You hummed, torn between telling him off and enjoying the feeling of his arousal swelling between your legs, but it was he who gasped and threw his head back, his hard length twitching against your clothed pussy.
“You ready to include me in this?” you questioned, amused.
“S-Sorry… Can’t help myself…”
Somehow, by instinct and minor effort, you were both in his bedroom now. The familiar bed you had once called yours, remembering the future dreamed upon those white sheets. Jungkook pulled you to them, calling you to the paradise that could only be created between two. Don’t, was your meek protest as he pulled down your panties and kneaded your thighs, shaking his head, I don’t care, and his tongue slid over your heat. Wet, dripping, your sweet taste and his saliva. He moaned between your legs, decorating you with kisses before sliding his tongue over you, drinking you desperately, you taste so fucking good, fuck, and your fingers buried into the sheets. He remembered everything you liked. Steady, soft licks, then harder when your legs tensed, tipping his head to bring his lips around your clit, drenching his chin with your wetness.
His hands turned and slipped under your legs, dragging you to his face by your ass.
“F-Fuck, Jungkook…”
You reached down and gripped his hair as you came on his face, his muffled gasp of surprise drowned out by the moan produced through your arched back and prolonged euphoria. Fuck. Fuck, it hadn’t been evident how much you missed this, no, him, your knuckles against the crown of his head, his hot tongue all over, his fingers locked onto your ass, even the way his nose brushed against your oversensitive clit as he thrust his tongue into your pussy, triggering another wave of pleasure, sparking electricity that burned through your veins.
His.
He pulled himself up with a groan, his mouth all over your body. Leaving bites, kisses, licks in his lustful wake. Your nails dug into his shoulder and he made that whimper you loved, obviously wanting more, and so you clawed his upper back as he pretended to resist you, refusing to move higher as he sucked on your nipples, gazing at you under half-lidded eyes, rubbing your other nipple between his fingers.
“Take it,” you growled under your breath.
He did, rubbing his hard, neglected cock against your thigh, denying himself longer.
Over time, you had hesitated to do such things. Jungkook had gotten in trouble before for being marked up. After all, his body was his selling point, and booking back-to-back shoots with poor choices in between ended up in humiliation. Unjustly so, perhaps, but you never did it again. Maybe you should have been more considerate this time too, but, no, that wasn’t what he was asking for.
He wanted the consequences of you.
He brought his face close to yours, your orgasm still on his breath.
“Mark me,” Jungkook demanded, his voice low and deep and gravelly. “I’m yours.”
So you did.
Hickeys on his perfect neck, sharp nails over his ass as you pushed down his underwear, adorning him with fierce, vicious passion that bruised him. He kissed your forehead, buried his fingers in your hair, and pinned you to him, pre-cum dripping onto your hip as he kicked off his restraints, pressing his hardness to you.
“You’ll get in trouble,” you warned even though the damage was already done.
“I don’t care,” he retorted, his thigh rubbing against your still-wet pussy. “I don’t care if I have to cancel the rest of the week. I don’t care if I never work in the modeling industry again. The only thing I care about is making sure you always know how much I love you.”
You froze, your lips above the inked floral mandala on his right shoulder.
“I should have made time.”
His arms drew up and encircled your head, his lips against the crown.
“I’m so, so sorry for not realizing how disrespectful I was to you. And I won’t do it again,” he murmured, leaving kisses intertwined with your hair. “I promise.”
“I…”
You reached up and held his shoulders, anchored despite the turbulence of an emotional sea.
“I missed being by your side, Jungkook.”
If his hard dick wasn’t literally throbbing against your hip, you might have cried.
You reached down and touched him.
“Ah!”
“Woah.” Your arm hooked around his waist as your hand enclosed around his girth. “I’m just making sure he’s keeping interest even during this emotional breakthrough.”
His cheeks flushed as he realized he had chosen his moment with possibly suboptimal timing. He didn’t have to worry. His body seemed to recognize your hand right away. You could feel the way his cock eagerly twitched on your palm. You cocked an eyebrow. He gave you a the-fuck-you-expect look, and you curled two fingers around his balls, lightly massaging with the pads of your fingers, simulating your tongue. He gasped, gripping your shoulders.
You leaned down and spit in your hand.
“F-Fuck!”
You backed up and slowly, leisurely, spread the slippery saliva all over his cock, letting him adjust his knees to give you a better positioning. Your other arm had moved behind you, lifting your torso up as you jacked him off. He seemed to not know what to do with his hands, foreign objects in his possession before his eye line drifted down. Down. His fingers trailed over your breasts, squeezing them and playing with your nipples as you increased the pace.
“Handcuffs could come in handy right now,” you commented.
He glared at you.
“S… Shut up.”
His cock had throbbed at the suggestion though.
You tilted your head, watching his breathing quicken as you applied the pressure where he liked it, the same pulse every time, not too fast and not too slow, building the frustration with a smile.
His face tensed.
Faster. A little tighter. Your thumb rubbed just under the base of the head with every ascent. He placed his palms against your hard nipples and you felt the familiar snap of his hips, leaning into your hand, his eyelashes fluttering, and for a brief moment you considered stopping.
Then again, these weren’t your sheets.
He gasped out your name and shot all over your stomach and thigh.
Hot, thick cum splattered onto your skin, making you suck in a breath as you felt it, saw it, smelled it, intense and strong and all over you. You were lucky it was on the thicker side, white streaks sticking to your body rather than running off. A painting of perverse proportions. Jungkook stared at his work, still semi-hard in your hand, clearly turned on by the sight. You sent him a questioning look.
“What now?”
Then he shocked you, and probably himself, by diving down and running his warm tongue over your cum-covered skin.
“Oh, what–”
Instant burning tingles spread throughout your nerves at the contact, vibrating through to your core, dripping as you witnessed the milky white coat his tongue. Your hand touched his shoulder, drawing him up, and he was tamed by your gesture, rising, his lips smeared with his release, and you drew closer to the heavy scent, to him. Lips to lips. Drank it from his mouth, swallowing the mixture of saliva and orgasm. Your tongue tangled in his, his fingers in between your legs again, thrusting two fingers into you, following the pull you had on him. Deep, slow, faster as the kiss grew more intense, breath to consumed breath, rolling your hips up into his hand, tightening around him, and Jungkook moaned, getting harder in your hand as your slick arousal drenched his.
“Condom?”
They spilled over the bed in his haste.
You were pleased to see it was the same brand you usually enjoyed. There wasn’t much to be read into that, though, because they had become his favorite as well per your introduction. You wondered if there would be a second first-time awkwardness and you were immediately proven wrong from the desperate and experienced way Jungkook dragged your ass to line up his dick. There was no time to be anxious, it seemed.
“You’ve acting like you’ve never had me before,” you teased.
Those dark eyes narrowed. “Don’t act like you don’t have the tightest, most perfect pussy I’ve ever been in.”
You half-shrugged. “Things could change.”
He slid in and clenched his jaw.
“You liar.”
You smirked and closed in around his length.
“F-Fuuuuuuuck me…”
You could have probably kept it up if it wasn’t for how fucking good he felt inside you. Just the right girth, and he lifted your legs, deeper, gasping, reaching the depth you liked. Your thighs against his chest. You locked eyes. Jungkook cocked an eyebrow with a familiar smirk. The corner of your lips ticked upward, and the rough, powerful pace began, your hand gripping his tattooed forearm and the other the sheets, losing yourself to the pleasure, pressed between the mattress and his hard body. His eyes closed, your lashes fluttering, witnessing glimpses of bliss, whispers of sweet nonsense lost between moans, leaning your head back onto his pillows, sinking into his scent.
Belonging to him.
His hair flicked sweat onto your chest. Your hand on the bed bent back and shoved the pillows down, using the leverage to lift your hips to his thrust, moaning at the visceral sound of slapping hips, wet and loud and vibrating throughout the room.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he panted out between gasps. “Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
You tried to deliver a compliment back but it was getting harder and harder to breathe. Your orgasm abruptly interrupted any coherent though, forcing you to bury your head back and endure the vice-grip of wanton delirium, barely able to gasp out his name as the hot wave dragged you under, your inner walls viciously pulsing all around his length. You heard Jungkook groan and attempt to say something, probably how much he enjoyed feeling your orgasm, he had done so before, however he seemed to be in his own dilemma as well, clenching his jaw and snapping his head down, the muscles of his chest taut and tense, and, in your intoxicated haze, you realized he was attempting not to follow, but.
“Fuck!”
He slammed his cock into you and cursed, throwing his head back as you felt the jerk of his cock spilling into the condom, trapped in your tightness, dragged into the kind of fever that couldn’t be sweat out, sinking down, down.
You stilled, suspended in bliss.
It was a little easier to breathe now. You missed this. Him, specifically. The sex you had together, carnal and intense and unparalleled. Closed your eyes, breathing hard, feeling the familiarity of Jungkook on top of you, spent, sweaty, frantic for round two. He didn’t like stopping if he could help it. It was one of his best traits. You felt him lower your legs carefully, backing out of you with a hiss.
Then you heard a wet, dirty sound.
You opened one eye.
He was staring at your body.
Running his fingers over his still-hard cock, bringing it back to full hardness.
“Let me look at you.”
You hummed. “You’re only seeing one side.”
His dark eyes shifted up to yours.
“Okay. Turn over.”
Desire turned his voice deeper, huskier.
With a sly smile, you rolled over, and scooted onto your knees, spreading your ass for him. You heard him suck in a breath, that’s so fucking sexy, and you flexed, letting him watch, entrancing him with the visual and the obvious sound of your wetness.
“Every part of you is perfect.” You could hear him jacking himself off, hard and fast. “Fucking perfect.”
“I feel that your judgement is clouded right now,” you answered back, muffled by his pillows in your face.
You heard the ripping sound and then a groan as he rolled down the condom. Then his strong hands grabbed your hips, prompting you to let go, and he sank into you.
“Fuck no, it’s not,” he gasped, picking you up by the hips to fully sheath himself. You managed to pull a pillow to your chest to allow ample breathing room. “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can satisfy me.”
You made your pussy tighten around him and he moaned again, his hot breath washing down your spine.
“Then let me satisfy you,” you purred, leaning back into him.
Your ass met his crotch in a loud, gratifying smack, easily locking into a rhythm you both enjoyed. Hard, aggressive, powerful, not holding back, you lifting a hand to extend back, and he caught your forearm, thrusting deeply as he held onto you. All of his power was directed below, the grip on your arm simply a symbol of possession, forcing you to lift your head and arch your back, adjusting to that more fruitful angle, sending heat all throughout your blood and nerves, the tension building, louder, harder, more.
He let you go, and you bucked back against him.
Moaned your name, delicious and desperate, begging you.
It was hard to count your orgasms. They seemed to blend into one another, entangled with the passion and the beat, not wanting to stop even as you struggled to breathe, clutching the pillow so hard that you could still feel your nails digging into your palm. The lust searing and yet not enough, chasing more, wanting more, wanting him, only him, your only, the one that belonged to you.
Your head tipped back, seeing only fragments of your surroundings, your hair a mess over your face.
“Jungkook, I love you,” you gasped.
You felt his hips flinch and he moaned your name, long and drawn-out, his hard cock jolting inside you, gripping your hips so tightly you probably had imprints of his fingertips. There was a flurry of expletives and panting. The haze of inexplicable euphoria settling, unavoidable and desired. You closed your eyes, savoring his release, feeling the radiating vibrations of his high pour into you as he slid down, his hot hands over your back, his shuddering exhales warming your shoulder blades.
Sweat, in small shivering droplets, sprinkled onto your skin.
“I love you too.”
He pressed his fingertips into your rising and falling body, touching you all over, confessing to your racing heart beneath his lips.
“I love you so fucking much.”
-
“Are you sure about this?”
“Yeah, totally.”
You turned your head to see Jungkook staring at your tits. You tucked a knuckle under his chin and forced it up. He gave you the big-peepers-in-headlights look.
“Huh?”
“Are you sure about this?” you repeated once more.
He gave you a confused look. “Yeah. I thought we talked about it?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Pardon me, but I’m not sure how much I can trust a discussion we were having with you balls deep inside me.”
“Eh?” His lower lip upturned. “Why not?”
You rubbed your temple with two fingers. “Why not, hah…”
“I meant it.”
You pulled one of his pillows over your naked chest so he could focus. You weren’t even sure why he had these. Jungkook slept on one of those stiff cylindrical pillows that was supposedly more comfortable. You weren’t too sure about how good that was for his neck, but sometimes you just have to accept the strangeness of your significant other. He must have kept these for the look of a nicely made bed. Or for moments like this. His eyes went back to your face again, reluctantly. He seemed a little disappointed.
“You don’t think I meant it?”
You saw his eyes were drifting to your thighs now. “It’s not really that…” You considered it. “It’s more… Well, we’ve tried already, you know. Aren’t you afraid it’ll happen again?”
His gaze shifted. You waited, letting him collect his thoughts.
“Afraid?” You saw him reflect the past and the mistakes. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am. I’m definitely going to change from how I was before. I can see how my work-life balance was shit, as both a friend and boyfriend. I don’t want to go back to that either,” Jungkook mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get it now. I can’t get time back. I was stupid, thinking me overworking myself wouldn’t drive you away, you know, we would have so much more time later… I went about it the worst way. I didn’t even discuss it with you. That was just me being selfish, and that selfishness made me insecure… I don’t want that anymore. I promise you that.” He shook his head and looked up at you guiltily. “Still… I can’t promise I won’t fuck up in some other way. And that scares me. But I have to act, even if I’m scared. Even if your final answer is, let’s not see each other anymore, at least I will have honestly given you my all this time, because you are it for me.”
You shook your head too. “There could be someone out there for you that is a lot more suitable than me. The world is the big place.”
He frowned, exasperated. “No. No, you don’t get it.” He placed a hand on your knee and looked into your eyes. “You are it for me. The world is big place, but my world is right here.” He poked you and you laughed, startled at the suddenness. A smile burst onto his face, holding your knee down, trying to drive his point home over your mirth. “Hey! Hey. I really meant it. All of it.”
You stopped laughing.
Somehow one of your hands was covering his now, feeling his warmth and hard knuckles in your palm.
“I belong to you,” Jungkook repeated, his own I love you. “I can’t love anyone else like how I love you. I don’t care if you believe me or not. Even if you leave me, sure, I might find someone to not be lonely with, but I will only belong to you.”
You held onto his hand, curling your fingers into his palm. “You…” This man was crazy, saying things like this. He affectionately squeezed your knee, flashing that killer smile of his.
“So… Yeah, I’m sure.”
He pulled his hand from under yours and touched your cheek, his knuckles against your skin.
“I’ll go along with whatever you choose.”
Truth was, you had already chosen.
“I’ll do my best too,” you murmured quietly, holding the pillow tightly. “I won’t let myself be complacent anymore.”
From the look in his eyes, you saw that Jungkook recognized that it had become an unintentional consequence of his actions. He smiled, still stroking your cheek.
“Yeah. Let’s be a team this time.”
You nodded, smiling back.
An extended silence of staring into each other’s eyes.
“Jungkook.”
“Hm?”
“Are you just imagining rubbing your dick on my cheek?”
His rough fingertips grazed over your jaw. “Yeah,” he replied dreamily.
You smacked his hand.
“Ow!”
“Pay attention!”
“W-Wha, what?” He pouted. “What am I supposed to do!”
You grimaced, feigning annoyance but also not really. This guy. “No wonder we could only have serious talks in public or incarcerated…” you muttered.
“Ah, yeah, that reminds me.”
You raised an eyebrow at him as he twisted around and reached over to his phone, watching the ripple of his back muscles as he moved. Damn. This guy. He bounced back, messing about on the screen. You were too busy admiring the definition of his arms to notice, until.
“What kind of handcuffs should we buy?” Jungkook chirped, turning his phone to showing you the screen display of a sex goods webstore.
You blinked at him.
“What.”
And thus begun round two.
-
epilogue
“Hey- oh, wow.”
You stilled, surprised.
‘Oh, I thought you were going to meet me there?”
In your hand was your well-loved small black purse with a bow. Your other hand held the door open, seeing the tall form of Jeon Jungkook gawking at you in his matching denim jacket and jeans. Calvin Klein, the same brand as his white t-shirt under the jacket. That same brand was holding a lunch event today, except one of their attendees was blocking your path, open-mouthed at your hips wrapped in a tight, pink gingham miniskirt with embroidered red strawberries. Then his stare went to your chest, to the emerald-green satin blouse that complimented the little green accents of the mini strawberries, although you suspected his interest was less in the color and more in the way the seams accentuated the curve of your breasts.
You raised your eyebrows.
“I… I left early. I wanted to pick you up,” he was saying absentmindedly.
You gestured to the black car waiting at the front. “I already ordered a car, though. I can’t ride with you on your bike in this skirt.”
“We can get in the car.” Jungkook’s eyes went back down. You knew he wasn’t admiring the delicate crisscross straps of your black velvet pumps. “Damn, your legs,” he mumbled.
The driver of the car was about to watch a live-action porno if you didn’t take action. You set the alarm and lock before stepping out. Immediately, Jungkook’s hand raised, as did his gaze. You looked from the tattooed hand to his face. He grinned, creating sparkles in his big dark brown eyes.
“I ran off, hehe. I just wanted to personally accompany my darling,” he admitted. “Hopefully no one noticed.”
You fitted your hand in his, letting him lead you. “You’re too handsome not to notice. What a troublemaker,” you joked, pleased at his rebellion.
“Your troublemaker now. Where are we eating?”
“There’s a French themed café near some shops. After, could we stop by the tea shop? My dad has a request I need to fulfill.”
“Ooo, I love adventures with my future wife.”
You gave him a curious smirk. His mischievous grin just kept getting bigger, that underlip mole suddenly visible like a secret wink. He had been dropping such hints lately. You pretended to gloss over it even though the discussion of dream rings had already happened months ago. You reached out to open the car door and Jungkook impatiently nudged your hand away, doing it for you so you could enter easily in your heels. It was a very nice thing to do.
Taehyung probably grilled such behaviors into him. Not that you were complaining, of course.
You confirmed the destination with the driver as Jungkook got in the car from the other side, taking care to hook his sunglasses on the front of his shirt. You heard his phone vibrate. You turned your head to see him snickering at it.
“Taehyungie’s mad that I left him alone.”
“Whoops.” You did feel a little bad.
He waved a hand, tongue in cheek. “He’ll get over it.”
Your eyes met.
He had such beautiful, expressive eyes that held the stars every time he saw you.
“You sure?” you asked quietly.
Jungkook reached over and stroked your cheek with a smile.
“I’m sure I want to eat lunch with my future wife, yup. Then I’ll buy tea for her dad so I can get on his good side.”
You laughed. “Sounds like a sweet master plan.”
His black hair loosely styled over his forehead made him look younger. You knew better. Perhaps grown was not the word for it, but you could tell he was becoming more and more of the man he wanted to be every day. Attending events with Jungkook was different these days; he checked on you throughout the night, actively included you in conversations, and even introduced you to people he thought you might enjoy talking to, now to the point that familiar faces would come up to you first before they recognized him. But what was more important was this – arranging quality time to spend together, more communication, and obvious commitment. The pleasant surprise not being flowers or sweets or other material things, and instead his presence earlier than expected.
His laugh at night.
His forehead kiss in the morning, even if you were half-awake in bed.
His silly photos of fogging up a makeup artist’s mirror with his breath and drawing a heart with your name inside it.
He still had a hectic schedule, but now you and him knew when enough was enough. You could finally talk about it before either of you became too stressed out or lonely by it. That improvement was worth that entire roller coaster to get here.
You smiled.
He smiled back, his knee touching yours.
He was still stroking your cheek.
“Jungkook.”
“Hm?”
“What are you thinking right now?”
He didn’t respond right away. He just adjusted his legs suspiciously and gave you his most innocent look that indicated he was most certainly guilty.
“Eh?”
You took him by the wrist and slowly lowered it before the driver could notice your partner-in-crime’s suspicious behavior. He pouted at you. The tent in his pants twitched. You cocked an eyebrow. Then you remembered something.
“Oh, by the way.”
He perked up. “What is it?”
You unzipped your purse a little bit and flashed the edge of shiny silver metal and chain.
“I borrowed something from a friend.”
Jungkook looked down.
Odd that it took him more than a moment to recognize handcuffs, considering that he – and you – had so much prior experience with them. His eyes went wide once it clicked. His cheeks flushed red. You smirked and rezipped your bag.
“What the fu–”
fin.
-
i hear... | ... the whispers... | ... in your eyes.
inspired by taylor swift's imgonnagetyouback :)
--
masterpost
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If I lose my mind | Ch. 7
Series summary: When you're buried under a mountain of problems and can’t seem to catch a break, it might feel like you need a complete reset. But did it really have to come with a one-way ticket to a new dimension? Surely, a little problem-solving would’ve done the trick.
Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports?
Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader
Chapter: Previous | Next
Word Count: 2.8k
Also on AO3
You do win a few positions in the French Grand Prix, after hours of driving in circles under the scorching sun. Two to be exact, from a P15 to a P13. It is true that being thirtieth does not grant you any points and of course not a trophy, you will have to wait a bit more to acquire those milestones in your career, but it is not like anybody cares much about that either. The most important thing, as you have come to understand after talking to the team, is that you have yet again managed to beat your teammate. That detail is sometimes even more valuable for your career than a couple points —although the team would really appreciate a couple of them.
It was an easy feat for that week’s race anyway. Mick ran straight into the gravel on lap 23, his car ramming with such force into the barriers that it no longer looks like a Formula One car when it is towed back to the garage. He was pushing the limit, that is for sure, trying his best to surpass another driver named Ocon while also controlling his pace for the long race still ahead... until he wasn’t.
It is scary to witness, the way his car reaches its limits and goes crazy, the steering wheel spinning out of control while Mick can do nothing but pray that the crash won’t be fatal, that he won’t get hurt. It is even scarier to think that you are putting yourself in that position for the third week in a row now, clueless about what is happening or if this is even the real world, but still allowing a group of unknown people to play dress up with you and strap you down into that car again and again.
“Hey, where are you going? To the briefing?” Carlos flags you down in your walk through the main street of the paddock, his voice loud in the almost empty space. It is still too early for the photographers and guests to be roaming around, gift shops and restaurants completely deserted save for the workers preparing for the worst day of the weekend. It is nice to see, honestly.
The scenery has undergone a big change, the huge terraces and open-air spaces of the French paddock long forgotten and replaced with cosier restaurants in preparation for the harsh weather forecast for Hungary’s Grand Prix. Your subconscious is clearly working overtime to fool you into believing this is reality.
Carlos, Charles and another man are seated in one of the few tables set outside the Ferrari motorhome, relaxing with some coffee and snacks. “Yeah? Are you not?” you respond with furrowed eyebrows, your speed faltering since you see them making no effort to rush their meal and get to a driver’s meeting that started ten minutes ago.
Instead, Carlos beckons you with a gesture of his hand, a cheeky grin pulling at his lips when he simply tells you to “Come over for a second”.
A request that you confusedly fulfill with a last look at your watch.
The driver stretches a hand out to you when you near the group, leaning back into his chair as he looks up at your approaching figure. By sheer instinct, you hold your arm towards the driver as well, placing your hand in his open one when you are close enough to do so. Carlos’ smile grows the littlest bit at that, his fingers closing around yours to get you to walk that much closer to his seat.
An interaction that does not pass unnoticed by the rest of the table.
“You don’t have this meeting or...?” you repeat your question, gaze flying to where the building you were running to hides, and then back to the crinkling eyes of the Ferrari driver.
The pair lets the unknown man at the table fill you in “It’s delayed until nine, they sent an email a while ago”, his Spanish accent shining through his words. He must be Carlos’ guest, the absence of any Ferrari merch making him stand out in the middle of the red decoration and the two team drivers. No pass is hanging from his neck though, he might indeed be part of the team. “Didn’t Nick tell you?”
Oh, and he knows Nick too?
“Seriously? No, he didn’t...” you murmur, taking your phone out from your pocket with your free hand and looking through your unread messages, can’t believe you have literally run across the paddock for a meeting that won’t start for another half an hour at least “I was meeting him there.”
Before you can start sulking, Carlos steals your attention with a squeeze of your hand “Well, then you have nothing to do, right?”, standing up from his chair to lend it to you before you can get an answer out. The Spanish driver uses his hold on your hand to direct you down onto the seat —much like he had done just a week ago, you are glad to at least know his name this time—, looking down at you with an accomplished expression when he succeeds “I’m going to go get you something. You didn’t have breakfast, did you?”
Carlos only lets go of your hand and disappears inside the motorhome when you confirm his suspicions, you have not eaten anything yet, and honestly were not planning to. The nerves won’t let you keep anything down in days like these, your diet consisting of some water and what little fruit you can munch on to not faint in the middle of the road, but you don’t have the heart to tell him that.
The situation is another déjà vu from some time ago, when a certain Ferrari driver approached you in your first ever visit to the Paddock with a delicious surprise and a similar question. This time though, he can do nothing but sit back and watch while his teammate fills the small table with treats for you. The other man at the table shaking his head at the Spanish’s antics, a smile hidden under his hand, you would not even be able to eat all of this if you had spent days in a hunger strike.
Carlos pulls up an extra chair from a nearby table and encourages you to dive in, taking his probably cold coffee from in front of you to finish what was left in it.
You put your phone down then, finally concluding with a sigh “I’ve got nothing from Nick... and now he isn’t answering”, and picking up one of the most manageable foods of your improvised breakfast in the meantime: a tiny bowl of fruit salad.
Charles lets out a chuckle at that, swirling the contents of his paper cup “Like you would have seen it anyway, I’m still waiting for an answer about the plane tickets, just saying...”
“Mate, I sent her a good luck text back in France, and did you get a response to it?” Carlos joins in on his friend's complaints, making a dramatic pause and answering his own question on the same beat “Yeah, me neither”
Maybe you would have felt called out or exposed that these two were discussing your private conversations —or lack of thereof— out here in the open and in front of a stranger, but that’d be if you had any idea of what the hell they were talking about. What messages? Did you give them your number at some point and don’t remember it? Well, Nick and the media coordinator have been the only ones blowing up your phone since you received the device anyway.
“I don’ know what you’re talking about” you mumble, shrugging your shoulders as they continue airing instances where you have ignored their texts and you follow on with your task, the fruit tastes really good actually.
After a while, Carlos tap his foot on your crossed legs to gain back your attention, when he finally notices you have grown quiet during their tirade, and offers you a smile
“C’mon don’t get mad, we’re just joking” Charles consoles you as well —unnecessarily so, since the only emotion you are experiencing is confusion— “It’s because we’re flying private a bit later, and I don’t want you getting home before I do”
Home? What is he talking about? And why does he have to arrive first? Seriously, you are missing too much information
“You should fly with us, I’m sure the rest won’t mind” Carlos chimes in, stealing a piece of the chocolate crêpe in your plate. A plate that you push to his side of the table right after, cutting him a couple more pieces so he can help you finish it up.
Through a mouthful of the sweet dessert, you question the obvious “The rest?”. Completely disregarding all the other important questions crowding your mind, a skill you have developed after weeks of not understanding anything the people around you talk about.
As your answer, you have the three men on the table spewing names on the go, confirming the presence of at least six other people on the plane. The unknown Spanish man seems to also be included in the passengers’ list.
You don’t mind flying with them, honestly. You have somehow grown accustomed to taking a plane every other week, which means this won’t be much of a change. This way you’ll have at least someone to talk to on the journey to whichever country is next on the schedule, Nick always falls asleep a second after taking off.
The “private” part is the most confusing one, you and Nick have been taking normal flights to every Grand Prix. Guess your subconscious has decided to step up its game. You’ll follow the script anyway; at the end of the day, you are just trying to find the end of this abnormally long dream.
You agree to their proposal with a shrug of your shoulders, stuffing your face with the last bit of a second crêpe that you cannot believe you’ve finished. It feels nice to tone down that sinking feeling you have in your stomach on Sundays.
Charles could not be happier with your decision, something he lets you know as soon as you get on the way to the drivers briefing. Carlos and the other man have taken the lead, walking in front of the two of you and chatting about an interview they will be recording later in the day. And they do it in Spanish, which feels so refreshing to hear after weeks of being surrounded by people talking every other language.
While you are trying to discretely listen in on their conversation, Charles lightly nudges you with his shoulder in an attempt to get you out of your thoughts. He easily succeeds, has you looking up at him over the lid of your cup of hot chocolate —yes, you are still trying to finish Carlos’ impromptu breakfast— in the next beat.
“I’m really looking forward for the break” his voice is low, the corners of his lips tilted up into a beautiful smile that he can’t seem to be able to get rid of. His green eyes are shinning with pure joy, focused only on you and the way you slowly match his grin.
“Are you?” you do not know exactly what he means or why is he looking at you like that but feel compelled go along with it.
The Ferrari driver peels his eyes from you to look at the path in front of him, his cheeks still full with that big smile as he crosses his arms over his chest and gives you another playful push “It’s going to be great, I promise”
The briefing is exhausting, as always. The drivers have had a lot of issues during the Free Practices and Qualifying, which means it takes you half an hour more to break free from the meeting. The Ferrari teammates remain quiet by your side, they managed to lock themselves into the second and third place of the starting grid, so its preferable to keep a low profile and listen. Lewis is one of the most vocal ones, in his seventh place right behind Alonso, and this other Sebastian Vettel guy too —another surname that rings so many alarms in your head—, but his criticism of the traffic during his fast lap is much more justified. He got knocked down to P18.
You are happy with your P13, the same position you ended up in on the French GP and two positions in front of Mick, so you have simply been trying not to fall asleep in the middle of it all.
All the drivers are walking out of the room, chatting about their schedules and the final result of their complaints, when a certain McLaren driver comes up to awaken you from your slumber. Daniel suddenly drops his arm over your shoulders while you are sleepily trailing behind Nick, bringing you close to his body while he balances the two of you from one side to the other, a chuckle slipping past his lips at your startled expression.
“Gonna let me invite you out for lunch?” Daniel offers, making you match his pace as Nick leads you both down the corridor.
“Huh? Why?” comes as your instant response, understandably so when you have not exchanged more than a couple of words after he had that fight with Nick on the Austrian Grand Prix. His words about having to talk to you later are still bouncing off your ears.
Daniel has not approached you for that important conversation ever since, has not mentioned that horrible day when you woke up in the garage with him not once, and now he wants to go have lunch with you? It doesn’t seem right.
“What do you mean why?” the man frowns, having not expected any kind of push back from your part. Daniel decides to come to a stop before exiting the building, letting go of you so you can better talk face to face “Just because? I mean, it’s been so long since we last went out... Do you not want to? That’s okay too”
Daniel’s voice makes something shift inside of you, a strange weight setting over your chest at hearing his dejected tone. It is a wave of unfamiliar thoughts and feelings that swarm your mind, inexplicable ones, that are quickly growing into a awful headache.
It is not something you expected either, the way someone that seems so happy and over the top on his interviews, would deflate just because you are cautious about spending time with him. But you didn't imagine feeling sick to your stomach from watching him like that.
“No, I-” you start speaking, more out of sheer need to wipe that sad frown from his face than anything else, still not sure of what is making you feel so distressed “Yeah, of course I want to, it’s just that I literally ate half the Ferrari buffet, and I really can’t have anything before the race because I get sick and... you know?” you explain, almost stumbling over your words and probably speaking in the thickest accent he has ever heard with how fast you try to go over your excuses
Daniel expression faintly lifts at your nervous reaction and he shakes his head “Don’t worry about it, we can go any other time! I was-… it’s just that things have been a bit strange since Austria, so I wanted to make sure everything’s alright. You can talk to me whenever you need, you know that, right?”
And although you nod almost immediately in confirmation, trying to look confident and willing to do so, this is another conversation that will make the rounds on your mind for nights on end. For now, it is the first thing on your head from the second you step inside the car, to the moment you leave the paddock that same afternoon.
Although there are even more waiting to happen.
Nick has decided it is finally time to inform you about the start of the holidays —most probably that break Charles had mentioned—, no race no nothing for a month. No seeing Daniel for that meal you promised him either, or even a bye-bye to him or any of the drivers. And Nick not only has the audacity to dump all that new information on you after accompanying you to your hotel room, but he also leaves you completely alone after reminding you of your next schedule in England, which is actually 15 days away. Fifteen days where he won't be with you.
What does he mean goodbye? What are you supposed to do now?
Next chapter
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Author's note: Hi! It's been way too long since I last posted, hasn't it? Seriously, uni is killing me. Hope you all liked the chapter!! I've been rereading all your comments a million times to get some motivation, so thanks for the help hahahha. I'm already missing F1.
Thank you so much for reading!!
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