i-love-ptv

[i-love-ptv]

he's cold sensitive

[i-love-ptv]

yall i’m not even into steve like that anymore…but oh my god that was absolutely amazing. literally abt to make my gf read this masterpiece man 😭😭

single thread

part 1, part 2, part 3

pairing: spider-man!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve has a big secret and convinces himself he needs to stay away from you to keep you safe. that’s tough to do when you’re his neighbour.

word count: 8.2k

warnings: spider-man!steve au, some violence (r is attacked and a pocket knife is mentioned but nothing major happens), blood/injuries, strangers/sort of friends to lovers (ish?)

a/n: i really liked writing this one and i hope u guys like it too!!! spidey!steve is something i’ve wanted to try for a while and here it is!!!! he’s my baby <3

/ᐠ(๏‸๏)ᐟ\

When Steve moved to Indianapolis, not once did he think he’d get bit by some radioactive spider and gain super powers. Yet, here he is, swinging through the city like something out of some comic book. Sometimes he doesn’t even believe it’s real, and it’s his life.

On his way home, he spots his building easily, the route embedded in his head. The corners to turn, the spots to shoot his webs.

Stuck to the wall beside his window, he tries to open it and realizes he left it locked. “Idiot,” he grumbles to himself.

With a groan he jumps down, landing in the alley. He throws his clothes over his suit and makes sure nobody’s around before slipping the mask off and into his bag. For once, he uses the actual door to enter the building.

He opts for the stairs and when he makes it to his floor he sees you in the hallway. He resists the urge to go back down and wait a couple of minutes.

His door is across from yours, and when he walks over, you’re quick to send him a smile and a ‘hello.’ He nods at you and faces his door, unlocking it quickly and going inside.

It’s not that he doesn’t like you, it’s that he doesn’t want to involve people in his life when it’s gotten so complicated. He has Robin in the city and that’s about it. And he already worries enough about her. If he’d met you pre-bite, things would be much different.

He’d return your kind smiles and greetings, he’d tell you when he likes your outfit or thinks your hair looks really nice (which is pretty much every time he sees you, even when you think it’s awful).

He’d rather not put you in any danger, though, so he doesn’t. He just thinks you’re pretty and keeps it to himself.

You don’t know any of that, however, so you’re convinced that Steve doesn’t like you and you have no idea why. Every time his only response is a nod or a limp wave, you wait until he’s out of sight to frown, to scrunch your eyebrows.

You try to think about what you might’ve done.

You first met Steve when you moved into the building, your hair held away from your face with a clip, baby hairs sticking to your damp forehead, and your sweatshirt hanging off your shoulder. Not your best look.

He must’ve heard the thump of boxes hitting the ground, the mumbled curses you kept uttering. Knuckling at his tired eyes, he opened his door and peeked his head into the hallway.

“What the-”

He shut right up when you turned around, smiling (almost wincing) at him.

“Hi,” you introduced yourself, and he repeated your name so quietly you didn’t even hear it. “Sorry about the noise. I have a lot of stuff.”

He nodded, looking at the few boxes in the hall, “you’re moving in?”

“Yeah.”

“You need some help?”

“Seriously?” He half nodded, half shrugged. “That would be great. Thank you so much.”

“Sure. ‘M Steve, by the way.”

Steve. He’s pretty, you thought. Brown, fluffy hair and soft eyes, a mouth you think must look even better when he smiles.

He carried the heavier boxes without complaint or breaking a sweat. His arms flexed with the actions, but his face was completely unaffected. You were amazed. And probably stared at him too much.

When every box was inside your apartment, you’d thanked him, and he’d brushed it off saying it was no problem and went back inside his own place.

No problem, like he didn’t carry box after box for you because you couldn’t afford movers.

Now, with your back against the inside of your door after seeing him in the hallway, you replay that meeting once again. You can’t figure out what you did. Worse, you think, maybe you didn’t do anything at all and you’re just someone who’s easy to dislike.

Maybe it wouldn’t matter so much if he wasn’t so good looking. If he didn’t make you nervous whenever his eyes glanced over you, if you had actual friends to occupy your time, if you didn’t want him to like you so bad.

If, if, if.

You try to stop thinking about it and pick up the book you’d left on your coffee table. You have to reread passages, distracted and unfocused.

-

The bookstore’s been slow today.

You’ve been keeping yourself as busy as possible, even with an empty store. Dusting shelves, re-organizing sections that looked fine before, switching displays around. Eventually you gave in and sat behind the counter with a book, watching people pass by the front windows.

The sun set at some point, sinking behind buildings and leaving the city lit by streetlights and warm glows seeping through windows.

As boring as it can be, you wouldn’t be doing much different if you were at home. Finding things to do to pass time, sitting around aimlessly. At least here, you get paid for doing it.

When it’s time to close up you’re not sure if your sigh is from relief or disappointment. You’re lonely often, but it’s harder to ignore it when you’re all alone at home, no people around at all, even if they’re mostly just passing by on the sidewalk.

You go through the list, sweeping, setting the alarm, shutting off the lights, and locking the door.

The night air is cool, light wind blowing at your cheeks, ruffling your hair. The usual sounds surround you. Honking horns and tires rolling against pavement, indistinguishable voices and the click of the bookstore door locking.

You keep your keys in your hand while you walk home, one of them sticking up between your knuckles. Just in case.

One foot in front of the other, again and again, you walk along the sidewalk. Your footsteps a steady rhythm, hands tucked in your pockets to keep them warm, head bent to avoid making eye contact with any other pedestrians.

Only a couple of minutes from your place, you can hear someone walking along behind you. You shake your head, telling yourself they’re probably just headed in the same direction.

That reassurance disappears when the stranger whistles at you.

You don’t look up, you don’t turn around, you just keep your head down and walk faster, your heartbeat speeding in your chest. You’ve seen stories of what can happen to someone walking home alone. You never thought you’d have one of your own.

“Hey, cupcake! Where you going?” His voice is scratchy and scary. You pick up your pace even more.

At your ignorance, the man speaks again, “I’m talking to you.” His hand grabs your sleeve when he says it.

More afraid than you’ve ever been, you jerk your arm from his grasp and stupidly turn down an alleyway as a shortcut. It’s a horrible decision, but when you’re scared like that, it’s really hard to think straight.

You feel bad for being annoyed with people in horror movies. You get it now.

You’re almost jogging now, but it doesn’t deter the man. No, he catches up and grabs your wrist, twisting you around and pushing your back roughly into the brick wall of the building behind you.

Your wrist is slammed against it where he grabbed you, no doubt scratching your skin and making you flinch, your keys falling from your grasp.

This is it, you think. I’m gonna die here. Alone.

Your eyes water, a tear drips down your cheek and the man laughs in your face. You try to break away from his hold but he doesn’t let up. The only thing you manage is to knee him in the thigh, but it doesn’t do much.

“Nice try, cupcake. I’ve got you now.” he says. That’s when you notice the glint of a pocket knife in his hand.

“Please. Don’t,” is all you can say, trying and trying to get your arms out of the man’s tight hold. Tight enough to bruise.

Steve’s hair stands at the back of his neck, on his arms. Until now, his patrolling had been quiet. Easy fixes like an elderly woman not crossing the street quick enough or a man who’d locked his keys in his car.

Now, his instincts tell him this thing isn’t so small.

Without a second thought, he jumps from where he’d been perched at the ledge of a building and swings in the direction his senses take him. In your direction.

One second, you’re squeezing your eyes shut, thinking it’s the end, and the next, there’s the sound of someone landing in the alley and the thwip of a web.

The man is pulled off of you so fast you can barely keep up. There’s a flash of blue and red, hints of webbing being shot, and just like that, your attacker is knocked out and stuck to the opposite wall.

Your chest heaves and your back slides down the wall, landing on your bum on the pavement.

Steve turns around now that the man’s been dealt with and he thinks his heart stops for a second. He hadn’t realized it’d been you. You and your sweet smile, now turned to tears streaking your cheeks.

He thought, without him, you’d be better off. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he should’ve been keeping an eye on you. For now, he’s sort of glad he hasn’t spoken to you much, only because there’s a better chance you won’t recognize his voice.

Steve moves to crouch in front of you, “are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His hands hover by the sides of your face, like he’s holding himself back from touching you. Restraining himself.

Spider-man is in front of you. Spider-man with his suit and white-eyed mask who just saved your life is right there in front of you. So much for a slow day.

You shake your head and wipe your cheeks with your palms, “no. No, just- um, just my wrist, I think.”

“Can I look?”

You hold out your arm for him to see, and he moves his hands down, one tugging back your sleeve and the other holding your wrist gently. The fabric of his gloves brushes against your skin lightly, careful not to touch you where you’re hurt.

“Doesn’t look sprained. Just scraped,” he says. He looks up from your arm to your face, the eyes on his mask narrowing ever so slightly. “You’re sure you aren’t hurt anywhere else?”

He sounds genuinely worried. Like, you can hear it in his voice. It makes you want to cry all over again. You’d always thought that when Spider-man dealt with the bad guys, he’d just move on. Now, you can see that he cares a lot more than that.

You shake your head, “I’m fine.”

As fine as you can be after what just happened.

He nods and stands, offering you his hands to help you up. You pick up your keys and accept, slipping your hands into his. He pulls you up and squeezes your fingers before letting go.

“Will you let me take you home?” He asks.

You’re sort of in shock, and you’d rather not walk anymore. So, you agree.

He opens his arms for you, picking you up easily with a single arm wrapped around your waist. Your own arms go around his neck, legs tentatively wrapping around his waist.

“Ready?”

“Yeah,” you almost whisper.

He hears you loud and clear, your mouth close to his ear, his senses seemingly even more heightened than usual with you around.

“Hold on,” he says.

Then, you hear the whip of his webs and you’re in the air. Your limbs tighten around him.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

The wind rushes all around you. In your ears, your hair, your jacket. The city does, too, lights flickering by and buildings growing distant over his shoulder. You squeeze your eyes shut.

“You okay?” He asks over the wind.

“Maybe!”

You can feel his chest rumble with a chuckle. You wish you could’ve heard it, too.

He swings you towards your building when he remembers he’s not supposed to know where you live, “where to?”

You tell him, yelling over the noise not realizing he can hear you just fine normally. You don’t know about those superpowers, focused on the ones that have him transporting you home.

He gets you there quickly, landing just outside the front entrance. You stay wrapped around him for a second before you realize you’ve stopped moving. You remove yourself from him so quickly he has to steady you with hands on your upper arms so you don’t fall.

“You okay from here?” He checks, his head lowering to catch your gaze.

“Yeah. Thank you for…” Saving my life, making sure I’m okay, taking me home. Everything since you landed in the alley.

“Just doing my job.”

“Right. Thanks again,” you turn to head inside.

“Goodnight. And take care of your wrist!”

“Goodnight, Spider-man.”

-

Steve sees you more often after that night. He thinks the universe might be punishing him. Making him see you more, making him work harder to keep his distance.

He tossed and turned the entire night after bringing you home. He wondered if you were actually okay, trying to listen in case you were crying or having a nightmare. He worried so much more than he would have if it had been any other person and he hated it.

He saw you the next morning. You were checking your mail at the same time as him. Your sleeve had ridden up, exposing the scratches on your wrist from the brick wall, the faint bruises of fingerprints, your eyes tired.

“Are you okay?” He couldn’t help but ask, gesturing limply at your hand. Maybe if you give him a convincing yes, he can finally stop thinking about you so much.

You look down at your arm when he asks, quickly tugging your sleeve back down to cover it up. “Oh. It’s nothing.”

It’s not nothing. He knows it isn’t because he was there and he saw at least a part of what happened to you. He can’t let you know that, so he just nods and turns to his mailbox, listening to your footsteps as you walk out of the mailroom and back up to your apartment. His fingers twitch by his side.

Steve’s used to feeling protective over people, that’s not new, but to feel so protective over someone he barely knows hasn’t happened before. That night haunts him. Your tear-streaked face, the blooming bruises on your arm. He never wants to see you hurting again.

Maybe that’s why he starts returning your greetings in the halls, actually pausing to ask how you are, to smile back at you (they’re tight-lipped smiles, but it’s something).

He’s trying to be kind without getting any closer. No matter how much he wants to know you.

One day, as Steve’s heading out for the late shift, you’re just getting home from your own job, it seems. The clip in your hair has loosened since you put it in, strands falling freely around your face. For a second, Steve has the urge to tuck them behind your ears.

He pushes that down.

“Hi,” he says, his door shut behind him.

“Hi, Steve.”

“How are you?”

“Okay, thanks. Tired,” you fiddle with the frayed hem of your knitted sweater. “Had the opening shift today.”

“Ah. Any plans?”

“Probably just gonna take a nap.”

He nods. For a second you think he might’ve asked because he wanted to do something with you. It’s a stupid thought and you push it away.

“Have a good nap, then,” he gives you the close-mouthed smile that’s become more common between you, and heads towards the stairs.

The shift in his behavior towards you hasn’t been huge, but it’s been enough for you to notice it. He talks to you sometimes—always briefly, but still—he doesn’t turn away from you as soon as he gets the chance like he used to.

It’s confusing, but you’re happy about it anyway. Maybe he just needed some time to warm up to you a bit. Maybe he doesn’t hate you after all.

Inside your apartment, you change into sweats and practically collapse onto your couch, playing something mindless on the TV and pulling a blanket over yourself.

You really are tired, but it’s not only from working early. Lately, your dreams have been haunted by rough hands, dark alleys, and flashes of blue and red. You constantly feel like there are eyes on you, and when you walk home from closing shifts, you always search for a certain superhero at the tops of buildings.

You fall asleep at some point, and by the time you wake up, it’s dark outside.

-

Days seem to blur together. Repetitive and tiring all the same. The only thing you have to look forward to lately is your short conversations with Steve in the halls.

You’re not sure how many days later it is when you fall asleep on your couch again. This time, you’re woken up by noises coming from the hallway, right by your door. You get up slowly, feet hitting the cool floors as you walk over to your door.

You don’t know what time it is, but from the darkness of your apartment and the random game show that plays on your TV, you know it’s late.

Peeking through your peephole, you see Steve, fumbling with his keys and almost limping. You open the door.

“Steve?”

He shuts his eyes when he hears your voice, all sleepy and worried.

Like an idiot, he’d left his window locked again and had to use the door after a night of patrolling. A worse night than usual.

You gasp when he spins to face you, one of his eyes swollen shut, a cut on his eyebrow, his nose bleeding, and another cut on his lip.

“Oh my god,” you step forward a little, leaving your door open. “What happened?”

“I’m fine. Sorry for waking you.”

“You’re bleeding,” you say. “Come on. Let me help you.”

You grasp his arm lightly in both of your hands, and when he doesn’t protest, lead him into your apartment.

Steve’s suit feels tighter now, scratching his skin where it sits because he worries you’ll see it despite his layers on top of it. Still, he could use some help. And he can’t bring himself to be upset that you’re the one helping him.

“You don’t have to,” his voice is scratchy.

“I want to help you, okay?”

You bring him into your bathroom, making him sit on the toilet lid. You leave him there for a bit, coming back with some ice in a dish cloth.

“Here, for your eye.” He takes it from you and sucks in a breath when he presses it against his swollen skin.

“Thank you for doing this.”

“‘Course.”

You pull out your first-aid kit from under your sink, setting it on the counter and taking out what you need. You grab another cloth, wetting it in the sink.

“Here,” you stand between his legs, using a bent finger to tilt his chin up towards you. You wipe the dried blood from his skin in silence, Steve’s eyes shut, yours running all over his face.

You’re surprised he trusts you enough to let you do this. You wonder if this is why he’s so closed-off. If maybe he’s involved in something that gets him hurt. Often.

An underground boxing ring, debt with bad people, so many possibilities cross your mind, not a single one being the truth.

Once his face is as clean as it can be, you move on to disinfecting the cuts by his eyebrow and lip. “This might sting a little.”

“S’okay.”

His face pinches a little bit when you dab away at his cuts, but he doesn’t make any noise. All you can hear is his deep breaths and the small sound of his leg bouncing.

His nose hasn’t bled anymore since you cleaned it, and he keeps the ice over his eye the entire time. The cut by his lip looks much smaller when there’s no blood surrounding it.

Only his eyebrow needs a small bandage, which you grab and unwrap. “Last step.”

He feels you press the bandage on, your fingers lightly pushing the sides onto his skin to make sure it’s stuck. The process, he finds, hurts much less when you do it.

He misses your warmth when you step away from him. “Thank you.”

“Are you in trouble, or something? What happened to you?”

“It’s not a big deal. I swear.”

He hates lying to you, but he convinces himself it’s better this way. For your own good.

You don’t look convinced but you drop it. “Okay.”

“I should go,” he stands from where he’d been sitting and waivers a little, leaning on the counter.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“I’m fine, just got dizzy.”

“You can take the couch, if you want. It’s not a problem, really.”

“I live across the hall, I’m sure I’ll be fine.” He steps towards the doorway and has to pause again. “Or maybe I’ll stay. If you’re sure.”

“I wouldn't have offered if I wasn’t.”

You walk him to the couch, letting him lean on you whenever he needs to along the way. He sits down, and you go to get him a pillow and blankets.

This is the longest amount of time you’ve ever spent with Steve, and it pinches at your heart that he’s hurt during it. That he only needed help, not company. Even so, you fight a smile when you come back to the living room and find him laying down, already half asleep.

You spread the blankets over him. You take the pillow you’d brought him and guide him to lift his head. You’re convinced he’s asleep, so you let yourself push the hair off his forehead just once.

When you turn to go to your room, he catches your hand in his.

“Thank you, honey.”

Honey. That’s new.

-

Steve was already gone when you got up the next day. The only evidence of his visit the blankets he’d left folded up on your couch and the washcloth stained with his blood you used to clean him up.

Every time you pass his door you think about knocking and checking on him. About making sure he’s okay.

You’ve been worrying a lot more ever since the night you were attacked and saved by Spider-man, and that goes for more than just yourself. You worry about every person you see walking alone, about Steve being hurt again, about noises you might be imagining at night.

You probably look over your shoulder fifty times on your way home from the grocery store, your hands too full with your bags to be able to defend yourself if anything happens.

You breathe out when you make it in front of your door. You’re safe, you’re fine, you have to tell yourself.

In your rush to get your keys from your pocket, you drop two of your bags. “Shit.” Boxes and cans thump against the floor.

Steve hears everything, all of the time. He hears you curse and the sound of your stuff hitting the ground. He blames the fact that he heads to the door on boredom and nothing more.

“Need some help?” His voice startles you.

“Oh! Hey, Steve. It’s fine, just dropped some stuff.”

You set the rest of your bags down, kneeling to pick up things that fell out of the ones you dropped. Embarrassed, you keep your head ducked.

Steve can sense it, the way your pulse jumps a little around him. He doesn’t know whether to be glad or worried that he makes you nervous. Either way, he bends down beside you, helping you pick things up.

A bag of apples, a can of soup.

You both reach for the bags at the same time, fingers brushing before pulling away. Like there was a shock, a little spark where your skin met for the briefest second.

Before you can, Steve picks up the bags. “I got ‘em. You get the door.”

“I- Okay.”

You turn around and fumble with the lock, opening your door and walking inside. Steve follows you and puts your bags on your kitchen counter.

“Good?” He checks.

“Yeah. Thank you, Steve.”

“No problem, honey. Think of it as payback for you patching me up.”

Honey. Last time he said it, you chalked it up to his tired state. That excuse can’t be used this time, and the term warms you.

“Right,” you look him over. His injuries are almost gone and it’s only been a couple of days. At least, you think it has. “You’re feeling better?”

“You did a good job,” he says.

“I’m glad.”

He nods, rocks back onto his heels once, “so, um, I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

He nods again and heads out, shutting your door behind him. With every conversation you have, Steve seems to warm up around you just a bit more. You don’t want to hope too much, so you push your hair from your face and turn to put your groceries away.

That evening, when you’re getting ready to cook dinner—a simple spaghetti and meatballs—you realize you’ve never seen Steve bring groceries into his apartment. Not once.

He must eat, you know that, but you wonder if he eats well, or enough. You cook for two without realizing until it’s finished. There’s extra of everything.

It’s probably stupid, maybe weird, but you make a bowl and head out into the hall. You knock on Steve’s door, three little taps of your knuckles against the wood.

He hears the knocks right away, listens closer to hear your voice mumbling to yourself. He knows your voice well. Sometimes, he can hear you humming to yourself in your apartment. He doesn’t try to listen in on you, but it’s like his ears subconsciously seek you out.

Steve opens the door and sees you in the same clothes as earlier, a shy smile on your face, and a bowl of spaghetti in your hands.

“Hey. What are you…?”

“I accidentally made too much food, and I thought maybe you’d want some?”

Actually, you made too much food for him, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Oh,” his heart does a stupid jump in his chest. You’re so kind and you don’t even seem to be trying. If anything, you seem to be embarrassed about it, like it’s a fault. “That’s really nice.”

“It’s just pasta. You want it?”

“Sure,” he takes the bowl from you. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And I promise it’s not, like, poisoned or anything.” You wince at yourself, “I don’t know why I said that.”

“Well, I’m glad it’s not poisoned.”

You laugh awkwardly. “Okay. Um, enjoy.”

He stands in his doorway while you go back inside, his smile spreading as soon as your back is turned to him. He heads inside after you do, kicking his door shut.

He’s never smiled at a fucking bowl of pasta the way he does. It’s getting harder and harder to make himself avoid you, avoid that light in his chest that seems to brighten when he sees you.

He’s in trouble.

-

You bring him dinner often. At least twice a week, on days you don’t work or when you’re pretty sure he’s home.

He thanks you every time with a close-mouthed smile and brings back your dishes the next day, perfectly clean.

It feels like, over time, with every dish you bring him, a chip falls away from the walls he’s built up around himself. You can tell there’s a lot of them, and that they’re tall, but you don’t mind waiting for them to lower piece by piece. He’s worth that wait, you think.

You’re happy to cook for him—you’re cooking for yourself already anyway—and you’ve grown closer because of it. Something like friends, almost. The conversations seem to grow longer each time you see him.

Sometimes, on good days, he even invites you inside to eat with him.

You aren’t very close, but right now, he’s the only friend you have (besides your coworkers, who really only hang out with you because they have to). You’d think the way you get excited to see him would be sad if it weren’t for how nice he is, for how he makes you feel.

He listens to you when you speak, his eyes don’t stray, either. He always tells you he likes your cooking when you know it isn’t all that great. He even hugged you before you left his place once, his arms around your waist, hands running over your skin delicately before he pulled away.

“Thank you for dinner,” he’d said. “Again.”

“I like making it for you. Makes me feel useful.”

“Still. Thank you, honey,” he’d surprised you with it, moving close before you could really process it.

“Oh,” you’d stupidly let your arms hang limp for a second before wrapping them shyly around his neck. “I don’t think my cooking is this good.”

“It’s not just your cooking,” he’d told you.

He pulled away after that, leaving your body warm and your smile difficult to suppress.

You’re well aware you have a crush on him, but you don’t want to let it ruin the beginnings of the friendship you’ve built.

Steve’s not sure what the pull he feels towards you is, like one of his webs is tethered to you even though he can’t see it. It’s something his senses can’t tell him, no matter how much he focuses on them.

He thinks you’re the sweetest person and you don’t even try, all shy smiles and soft gestures. He likes how when you talk, he can really hear how you feel about something in your voice. He trusts you, despite not knowing you too well.

He also thinks you’re really pretty, but that’s not important.

Steve had another rough night patrolling. Some guy decided to play Wolverine—he’d made gloves with blades and everything—and scratched Steve pretty good on his upper arm. It hurts like a bitch, even though it’ll heal quickly. And he’ll have to sew up his suit.

He got the guy, which is something, at least.

Luckily, he actually remembered to unlock the window this time, so he’s able to sneak into his place with ease. He stripped out of his suit and took a shower before anything. Maybe not the smartest decision while actively bleeding, but he felt gross.

Afterwards, clad in plaid pajama pants and a plain cotton t-shirt, he searches his bathroom for his first-aid kit while keeping a towel pressed to his arm. A dark stain blooms on the fabric the longer he keeps it against his wound.

“Yes,” he cheers to himself when he finds the small white box.

He sits on the tile floors, back against his sink cabinets, and the kit in his lap. He opens it with one hand, the other too busy trying to slow the bleeding. When he gets it open, he’s disappointed with what he finds.

“Fuck,” he says. There’s barely anything left. A roll of gauze, a box of bandaids, and one tiny alcohol wipe. That’s it. He really needs to remember to refill this stuff.

He pushes himself to stand, winces when he has to use his injured arm.

There’s only one person close by that he knows for sure has a first-aid kit that has what he needs, because he’s seen it pretty recently. That person is you.

He hates that he’s dragging you into this again, that he’s gonna ask a favor of you that he really shouldn’t. One he doesn’t even think he deserves. He needs the help, though, so he walks to his door, into the hallway, and a few steps to your place across from his.

He knocks, his towel more red than its original color by now.

The sound doesn’t exactly wake you up. It’s late, and you’d been in bed, but you’d been having a hard time falling asleep. You were tossing and turning, staring at the ceiling.

You sit up, push your hair out of your face, and head to the door. You should, but you don’t even look to see who it is before opening it, keeping your body behind the door and peeking your head around. You certainly weren’t expecting this.

Steve stands in front of you, his hair damp and a mess, falling over his forehead. His face is pale and, when your eyes flicker down, you find that his arm is bleeding. A lot.

“Holy shit. What happened to you?”

He ignores your question. “Can you help me?”

You move away from the door. The cold air from the hallway combined with the way Steve’s eyes look down before quickly looking back at your face remind you of your attire. A sleep shirt and underwear.

“Fuck! Sorry,” you go to shut the door but remember that he’s literally bleeding. “Come in, you know where the bathroom is. I’ll just- um. Let me put some pants on.”

He’d laugh at the way you pretty much sprint into your room if he wasn’t so focused on the pain of his arm. He’d also be thinking a lot about the way your legs looked just then.

You meet him in the bathroom, legs now covered in a baggy pair of sweatpants. Steve’s sitting on the shut toilet just like he did the first time you helped him. You haven’t touched your first-aid kit since then, finding it exactly where you left it then.

“Sorry about that,” you tuck your hair behind your ears quickly before opening up the box, turning to him afterward. “Can I see?”

“Yeah.”

You take the towel from Steve’s hand, slowly moving it away from his wound to see how bad it is. Steve’s hands twitch where they sit atop his thighs. He’s holding himself back from touching you.

Three gashes break his skin. The outside of his arm, just below his shoulder.

“Do these need stitches?” You ask, the concern is clear in your voice, in how it shakes a bit. “Maybe you should go to the hospital-”

“No. Please. No hospital.”

“I don’t know how to do stitches, Steve. I don’t know if I can help you.”

“I don’t need stitches, I swear,” the look on your face makes him feel awful. The sadness in your eyes, the small frown you try to hide. “I ran out of bandages. That’s all I need.”

“Are you sure?”

He can’t tell you that his skin will mend on its own, that he’ll be fine in just a couple of days. “Positive.”

You nod and grab a different towel than the one he’d been using, pressing it against his arm to make sure the bleeding stops. He groans quietly when you do. “Sorry,” you whisper.

“I’m alright.”

When you’re almost 100% sure that the bleeding is done, you pull the towel away. You hold it under the sink, wetting a part of it that didn’t soak up his blood. You use it to clean away the dried blood on his arm, apologizing every time he sucks in a breath through his teeth, hissing at the pull on his cuts.

One of your hands holds his arm up, the other occupied with the towel. You’re bent close, stood between his legs, your loose hair tickling his skin.

“Steve?” You whisper, still focused on his gashed arm.

“Mm?” He hums, watching you help him with the most careful touch he’s ever felt.

“Who’s hurting you?”

“It’s nothing.” He says it in a way that tells you it really isn’t nothing. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

Maybe you don’t need to worry about him, but you do. You worry constantly. Anytime there’s a bandaid or scrape on his skin you wonder if it’s the same people that gave him that black eye and split lip weeks ago.

You worry because he’s so good. He’s a soft person under the invisible armor he protects himself with and he doesn’t deserve to be hurt. His skin is too delicate for it, his face too pretty.

You pull away and grab the roll of bandages you have in your kit. When you look at him again, his eyes are set on you, scanning your face.

“Please don’t worry about me,” his voice is quiet, and you hate the way it breaks on the first word.

He hates it, too.

“I’ll try my best,” you force a small smile at him, trying to lighten things as much as you can given the situation. You look back at his arm, wrapping it slowly. “Is that good?”

He looks at his arm, his wounds now covered with white wrappings. He looks back at you, “thank you, honey.”

“It’s not too tight?”

He shakes his head, standing when you step back to give him the space. You stand toe-to-toe, his head bent down to look at you, yours titled up.

“It’s perfect.”

Your breaths mingle in the air between you, growing thicker. Before you let yourself hope for something you shouldn’t, you move to the counter and grab the rest of the bandages you have.

“Here,” you hold them out to him, “for when you need to switch it.”

“You won’t need it?” He asks instead of telling you that by the time it needs switching, it won't be an open wound anymore.

“The most I use from that kit is the regular bandaids. I’ll survive without it.”

He takes the bandages from you, his hand brushing yours.

“I’m sorry for showing up the way I did.”

“I’d rather that than have you bleeding out in your apartment,” your eyes flick over to the bloody towels on your floor, your heart pinching in your chest. “If you need to talk to someone, or anything, I’m here.”

He leans closer, pushes a gentle peck into your cheek, and speaks with his lips still brushing your skin. “I don’t deserve your sweetness.”

He drops his head into your shoulder, just for a second, before moving away from you.

“Wha-”

“Bye, honey. Thank you,” he says, walking out of your bathroom.

You stand there, a hand lifting to press against your cheek in the spot his lips did. You pull it away and look at your fingertips, like you’d been expecting to see a physical residue of the kiss. Flecks of glitter, or the soft pink of the sky at sunrise.

You just see your skin, painfully normal.

-

After thinking and thinking and thinking, you determine that maybe Steve likes you more than you thought he did.

The way he calls you ‘honey’ in that voice of his, the softness of his eyes that he can’t hide no matter how cold he tries to keep his exterior, the way he kissed your cheek and let his lips linger when he spoke.

All of those things make you hope that maybe he likes you at least a little bit in the way that you like him, but if not, at the very least, he likes you more than you thought.

You think he tries to hold himself back from getting close to you at all, and you really don’t know why. All you know is that his shoulders were slightly slumped when he forced himself to leave after you'd bandaged his arm, after he told you he doesn’t deserve you.

There’s something in his life that makes him think that way and as much as you wanna know what it is, you hope that the best you can do is prove him wrong.

That’s one of the reasons you’re cooking dinner for two once again tonight. You also feel like, since this is sort of what brought you closer, the dinners are a tradition for you and Steve. Something completely yours.

It’s nice to have something like that with another person. You knew you were lonely, but you never noticed how much until you started talking to him more. With each meeting, the string between you both shortens.

You’ve never cooked this meal before. You’re extra attentive with it, tasting it to make sure it’s right, keeping your eyes on things closely to avoid burning it at all.

When everything’s done, Steve’s meal packed up nicely and your ponytail now a loose mess, you head to the bathroom to look at yourself in the mirror. The most you do is fix your hair before feeling silly for caring so much about your appearance.

He’s seen you tired-eyed and pantless. This is better than that, at least.

You haven’t brought Steve a meal since you patched him up and he thanked you with a kiss on the cheek and possibly, maybe, loaded words. You’ve seen him, yes, but this is different than a two minute conversation in a hallway or the mailroom.

It’s your way of checking on him.

Your door shuts with a click behind you, his meal in your hand as you step into the hall. You knock on Steve’s door in quick, small taps. You’re not sure why you’re nervous to be doing it this time.

The doorknob twists and you’re met with Steve’s smiling face. Like actually, fully smiling. You don’t think you’ve ever seen that from him before. Not like this. It’s like a beaming ray of sunshine, warm and beautiful.

You’d like to be the one to make him smile like that.

“Hi, honey,” he says. It’s then you notice his cheeks are slightly flushed, little pink blooms on his skin.

“Hey. I made you dinner again,” you hold the container up awkwardly to show him.

“You don’t have to keep making me dinner.”

“I like doing it.”

He nods. Steve knows that you do it as an excuse to see him, and if he were braver, or less concerned about involving you in his impossible life, he’d tell you that you don’t need to have food to knock on his door.

He’d tell you that you could knock whenever you wanted, that he’d happily open the door for you.

“Steve!” A voice—a female voice—calls from inside the apartment. “Who’s at the door?”

Fuck. Okay, he has a girlfriend. You probably interrupted something, you think, looking at his flushed cheeks, thinking about the smile he wore that most definitely was not for you.

You’re embarrassed for even thinking that he could like you, embarrassed for having read everything wrong, for hoping too much.

“Oh. You have company. I’ll just-” you pivot on your heel to leave and realize you’re still holding his dinner. You turn back around and hand it to him, awkwardly turning towards your door again and heading inside.

Steve stares at your door for a couple of seconds before going back inside. He sets his food on the counter and sits back on the couch.

“So, who was that?” Robin asks.

Robin, his best friend and the only person in the world who knows pretty much everything about him. Spider-man and all.

“My neighbor. She was bringing me dinner.”

“It was her? And you didn’t let me say hi!”

Yeah, Robin knows all about you. She knows that you make Steve dinner, that you’ve taken care of him without digging too deep for answers, that Steve thinks you’re the ‘prettiest girl ever.’ His words.

“She left pretty fast after you yelled.”

“Oh no.”

“What?”

“Nooo. I scared her off!” Steve is clearly very confused, so Robin huffs and continues, “she heard a girl’s voice in your apartment.”

“And?”

“God, you’re such a boy sometimes, it’s insane. She thought I was your girlfriend!”

“Why would that scare her off?”

“I know you don’t get out much, dingus, but seriously?” She literally facepalms. “She likes you! Why else would she be making you dinner and shit? She likes you and thinks you’re dating someone.”

“Oh. Oh. No, she doesn’t like me. Not like that.”

“You’re an actual dingus.”

Steve doesn’t want to think about that possibility because it’ll make it much, much harder to keep you at arms length. Though, even now, that arm is mostly bent, losing resistance.

“So what if she does like me? I can’t do anything with her.”

“Why not.”

“Because I’m Spider-”

“Spider-man, yes, I know. Who cares? You can't live your whole life ignoring every single romantic feeling you have because of that.”

“I don’t wanna drag her into this.”

“Did you ever consider that maybe she would want to be dragged into this?”

“I guess not.”

He goes quiet after that, and Robin, knowing him so well, drops the subject.

-

Steve thinks about what Robin said even after she leaves.

It’s hard for him to believe that you’d like him enough to worry that Robin was his girlfriend. You, a dream girl, liking him, with his unexplained injuries and past grumpiness towards you. There was no way.

But, on the slightest chance that it did matter to you, Steve decided he wanted to explain.

His crush on you isn’t something he should explore, isn’t something he wants to let grow because, despite what Robin says, his life is dangerous and you already worry about him enough without knowing that.

Still, the thought of you being upset because you think he isn’t single is enough to make him head across the hall.

While Steve wondered what he’d say, you stewed in your embarrassment. You’d sat on your couch in your sweats and tried to forget the girl's voice or the smile on Steve’s face. You were unsuccessful.

The knocks on your door have become a familiar sound—there’s only one person who actually comes to your apartment.

You walk over and muster up a smile that you hope looks genuine, “Steve, hey.”

He scratches the back of his neck and looks at you, “can I come in?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.”

You move aside as he walks in, shutting the door behind him. The apartment feels smaller with him in it, you think. His presence takes up space for you, it draws your focus.

“Thanks again for dinner,” he says.

“You’re welcome-”

“That wasn’t my girlfriend, by the way. The voice you heard,” he cuts you off because he worries that if he doesn’t say it now, he never will. “I mean, she’s my friend, and a girl, but we’re not dating. Her name’s Robin, she’s my best friend, that’s it. Promise.”

You’re not sure whether to be even more embarrassed at how obvious you were with your concern, or to be relieved that he’s not taken like you thought. You settle for a bit of both.

“You don’t have to- I know I was weird earlier but you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you tell him, tugging at the ends of your sleeves with your fingers.

“I wanted to make sure you knew.”

There could be a lot of weight in that sentence, if you let yourself look hard enough.

Rather than reply you confess, “you know, I used to think you hated me. Or, didn’t like me. Before we talked and stuff.”

Steve’s standing really close to you. Has he always been this close? You can smell his soap and feel the light puffs of air leaving his lips. It’s almost dizzying—like, if someone poked your shoulder, you might fall over.

You notice a lot about him from this close, especially when there’s no blood on his face. He has the lightest dusting of freckles over his nose, his eyelashes are dark, framing his brown eyes.

Steve reaches out with a hand to link his fingers with yours, loosely and slowly, like he doesn’t want to startle you. They fit together easily. His other hand brushes his knuckles against your cheek before cupping it gently in his palm.

His touch is so gentle, so much less guarded than his usual actions. You blink up at him and without even thinking, you push yourself into his touch, just a little.

“I never hated you,” he says. A murmur between your mouths.

“Oh,” is all you can say.

Steve’s strong, inhumanely so, but he isn’t strong enough to stop himself from kissing you.

The first brush of his lips on yours is so light that you think you might be dreaming. When you don’t pull away, he kisses you more firmly, his lips a little bit chapped but still soft as they land on yours.

You haven’t kissed a lot of people but you’ve never felt one like this. One that you’ve been dancing around for longer than you ever realized.

Steve’s hand squeezes yours, his thumb running back and forth against your cheek, his mouth moving with yours like a dance. He probably shouldn’t have let himself kiss you, because there’s no way he can fight whatever this is after feeling your lips on his.

He pecks you once, and twice, before pulling away. If he kept kissing you, the single thread left holding him back from you would’ve snapped. A clean break.

He leans his forehead against yours, and whispers so quietly you would’ve missed it had he not been so close to you. You could almost feel the words being spoken, lips still a breath apart.

“Never hated you.”

/ᐠ(๏��๏)ᐟ\

if you enjoyed, please reblog and/or let me know what you thought!!! it would mean a whole bunch <3

[i-love-ptv]

Oscar: Hang on, I've got a-- off topic. When do you reckon Cars came out? Logan: 2000. Alex: No. 2000..... 11. Logan: No way. Oscar: 2006. I was five when that movie came out. Ridiculous. 18 years ago. Logan: Lightning McQueen slapped. Oscar: He did. I even had the video game Cars. I had everything. Alex: Did you guys have a crush on the-- on Sally? Oscar: Who? Logan: On what? Alex: [Stammering] On the girl. On the blue Porsche. Logan: That would be you. Alex: No, it's not me. No, no no. I just-- I just wanted just to, just to see. Cause you were so young-- Logan: Yeah, but you love a blue Porsche. Alex: I do.

[i-love-ptv]

stop making fanfics about characters raping and sexually assaulting y/n, you are fucking disgusting people who romanticize a serious crime that happens every day to children and women

"but that's just reading dark romance" that's not a dark romance, that's just the stuff of a horrible fetish, IF YOU HAVE A RAPE FETISH, GO SEEK FOR FUCKING PSYCHIATRIST HELP!!!!!!!!!!

[i-love-ptv]

GUYSSSS I LOVE THIS SERIESSSSSS

SAFETY NET — ch. 4

a/n: back again!! hope you guys like this part and feedback is appreciated as always, thank you <33 + thank you so much to the wonderful @jjsbank444 for helping me write this part🤍

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+, smut (oral, mentions of sex), fluff, lil bit of angst + jealous!jj🫣

word count: 4k

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safety net: the playlist

add yourself to my taglist <3

—

“Don’t worry ‘bout him,” Adam had said when you were reluctantly leaving JJ to him and the rest of their teammates, “We’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” 

Those had been the last words he had said to you that evening before you went home, letting their friend blow off some steam in their company, perhaps having a drink or two at their usual bar – of course you hadn’t expected to see them again, outside your door, with a drunk and slightly bloody JJ hanging with his arms around Adam and Nick’s necks. 

Your heart dropped in your stomach at the sight.

“What the hell happened?” You all but yelled at the two who didn’t look better than their friend, and they surely didn’t appear that less intoxicated than him. 

“Listen,” Nick began, “This one can’t stop blabbing ‘bout you, and we’re a little bit drunk, and damn it he’s heavy – how do you do it?” 

You could tell they had all drunk more than they were able to take, which was why you tried not to be too embarrassed at Nick’s last words. You only nodded at them to step inside and they followed your orders, quickly walking into the apartment and unceremoniously throwing JJ on the small couch. He groaned loudly, turning around on his back, almost unsuccessfully. 

“Is anyone going to tell me what the fuck happened?” You asked again, angrily, as you placed your hands on your hips. The more time you spent with JJ’s roommates, the more you began to feel like their mother, for they were immature and needed more guiding than they usually received. “Adam, I told you to watch him! You said you were going to keep an eye on him.”

“I did!” He slurred, resting against the kitchen counter, “I watched him. I watched him as he kicked that guy’s’ ass.” He chuckled, followed by Nick.

They both seemed messed up, although a little bit less than JJ, and you were honestly terrified to find out what had happened in that bar. “What happened to you two, then?” You sighed.

“Those guys fought back,” Nick answered, taking some steps closer to you to affectionately wrap an arm around your neck, “Guess they were mad about our win.” 

Shaking your head in disbelief, “Do you guys need something?” you asked, finally.

“Nah, Marcus is our designated driver. He’s waiting for us outside.” Adam exclaimed as he began to walk towards the door, “That one just kept whining ‘bout wanting to see you. He got insufferable.”

You tried to hide your reaction, although you knew they would’ve never remembered it the morning after. After all, Nicholas had just fallen asleep on your shoulder. “Hey, big guy!” You giggled, shrugging your shoulder to wake him up. 

“Five more minutes, mom!” He cried, nuzzling his head further into you.

“Please call me or text me when you idiots get home.” You pleaded Adam as he attempted at getting Nick off of you. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Once idiot number one and number two had left your apartment, you went to check on idiot number three. 

Picking a water bottle on your way, you walked to the couch and sat next to JJ, who immediately relaxed against you. “What did you do, stupid?”

“Mmh, missed you.” He mumbled as he pressed his face to your poorly covered thigh. 

You couldn’t help but smile at his antics, running your fingers through his hair as he hummed at the wonderful feeling. Finally, you decided to get up, making JJ whine at the loss of contact, at which you grabbed his arm and attempted at forcing him to sit up. “C’mon, let me help you, Jay.” You whispered before you went to kneel on the couch between his legs in order to carefully analyze the damage that had been done to him. Forcing the water bottle to his lips, you made him drink the beverage, hoping that it would’ve helped with his impending hangover. 

“You’re so pretty.” He slurred as he looked up at you through unfairly long eyelashes and tired eyes. 

You chuckled at his words – he had to be a flirt even when he was in those conditions. Your fingers pushed his hair back, scrutinizing every inch of his face, before you sighed at the cuts that were littering his perfect features. “Why did you have to get in a fight with that guy, mh? Did you have to prove that you had more testosterone than him or something?”

He tilted his head to the side, his signature crooked grin staring at you as he rasped, “You’re hot when you’re mad.” 

“Shut up, Maybank.” You playfully rolled your eyes at him because, although drunk, you knew he meant it. Mindlessly kissing the corner of his mouth, you whispered, “I’ll go get some stuff to clean these cuts.”

“Don’t go.” He pleaded, wrapping his arms around your figure and pushing his head in your chest. 

Biting the inside of your cheek as you found a way to stop your chest from fluttering at his every action, you attempted at getting out of his grasp. “I’ll be back in two seconds, Jay.” And while you quickly walked towards your room, you could hear JJ saying, “I love when you call me that.”

You were praying he wasn’t going to remember this night the morning after; praying that he wouldn’t remember the way you softly cupped his jaw as you turned his head to work on his wounds, or the way you would gently swab the dried blood, cleaning the tiny cuts and protecting them with small Band-Aids – or your delicate touch, as you pushed his sweaty hair back and placed light kisses on the bandaged areas. 

Damn JJ Maybank and his adorable face. 

For the first time since meeting the blond man, you fell asleep with him, on your bed, your clothes still covering your bodies as he lied on top of you – and what terrified you the most was that you had never felt more comfortable. 

—

“Is this what you two wild cats do on a friday night?” Nick asked you and JJ as he came down the stairs all dressed up. A playful smirk was displayed on his lips while he walked past the two of you.

It had been a week since JJ’s suspension and you had spent most of those days with him, hanging around at his shared apartment. It wasn’t like he was spending his free time sulking and being miserable, though – and you knew it better than anyone else because all of this time that he didn’t know what to do with had been replaced by you. It seemed that JJ had become insatiable, his hands always finding their way to your body whenever he had a chance, and you had no complaints about it. 

That evening was only one of the many that you had decided to spend with him.

“It’s game night.” JJ shrugged, barely giving his roommate any attention. He rolled the dices in his hands and moved his little metal token according to the numbers on the dices.

“Where you going?” You inquired, noticing his attire.

“I have a date.” Nick affirmed, “So, while you two play monopoly, I’m gonna have sex tonight.”

You couldn’t help but notice the smile that JJ was hiding as he counted the fake money on the floor where you were sitting on. “Yeah, sucks not being you.”

“You sure you don’t want me to take you out, Y/n? I’d definitely dump this girl for you.” Nick winked and you rolled your eyes at his behavior.

“She’s not interested, Young. Leave her alone.”

“I mean,” you interrupted, causing the two men to look at you, “It’s a tempting offer.”

JJ lifted one eyebrow at you and he hated how much his stomach twisted at the thought of you going out with another man, even as a joke. “One that you’re not going to accept.”

“And why not, Maybank?” You challenged him. A staring contest between the two of you began, the game that was separating you long forgotten. Blue eyes bore into yours, an intensity that you weren’t sure you were able to mirror. “Nick, get out.” Was all JJ said, the tone in his voice low and threatening as his gaze never left yours.

“But I don’t have to pick up my date for another half an hour —“

“Get. Out.”

“You were supposed to calm him down, Y/n, not make him even more unhinged.” Nick grumbled as he left the apartment.

As soon as the door closed, JJ all but pounced on you, tossing the game somewhere in the room and forcing a loud giggle out of you.

“If you wanted me to fuck you, you could’ve just asked.” He mumbled against your skin as he left a trail of kisses from your cheek down your neck.

“It’s more fun this way.” You chuckled, although it didn’t last long for it was cut off by an unexpected moan. JJ’s hands grabbed your behind, lifting it from the ground and pressing his hips into yours.

“Can’t you feel what you do to me, baby? Mh?” You could tell he was hard, the grey sweatpants he was wearing were doing nothing to hide that anyway. “Driving me fuckin’ crazy.” His quick hands slipped your shirt off, followed by your jeans, never leaving the floor you were lying on.

“Here?” You asked when you realized that he had no intention of bringing you upstairs.

JJ was already kissing down your stomach, one hand playing with your covered breast, when his hold on your thigh tightened. “Need to eat you out right here, right now.”

Putting your own weight on your elbows to look down at him, you watched him as he positioned himself between your legs. “What if someone walks in?”

Maintaining eye contact, he began pressing his lips against your clothed heat, causing you to throw your head back. Your heavy breathing was all he needed to rip your underwear off. “Does it look like I care?” And that was when he licked a long stripe between your pussy lips, which was accompanied by the loud sound that escaped your mouth. JJ buried his head between your thighs, moaning at the taste of your arousal and the delicious sounds that you were making. He licked and sucked as if he had been a starving man, and perhaps when it came to you, he really was. Starving, because he always craved you, in every single possible way.

Your fingers threaded through his long locks, tugging on it from time to time and keeping his head in place — as if he could’ve gone anywhere else. JJ swore he could’ve gotten drunk on the way you moaned out his name, and he knew he was never going to get sober.

“Fuck — Feels so good.” You mewled on top of him before you began to massage your own nipple, trying to get some more friction.

“You taste like fuckin heaven.” JJ growled against you, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure. Inserting one finger inside you, he slightly lifted his head, “This pussy’s all mine, ‘m I right baby girl?” You furiously nodded at his words, barely even acknowledging what you were agreeing to, as if your body had a mind of its own and already knew the truth. As he thrusted another finger in your soaking cunt, he inquired again, “Need words. Tell me this pussy is all mine.” He went back to sucking your clit into his mouth, making you see stars.

“It’s all yours.” You gasped as you arched your back, “Fuck, J, I need you.”

“‘M right here, baby.” His fingers sped up inside you, angling them just right — perfectly. “Lemme take care of you.”

“Need your cock.”

JJ groaned at your words. “Jesus, baby. You can’t go saying stuff like that.” He chuckled at the way your hips worked with the movement of his fingers, eagerly trying to chase that blissful feeling. “Cum all over my fingers and I’ll give you what you want.”

And as if his words had been hypnotizing, something in you snapped, causing you to let go and your walls to contract around his fingers. Curses of his name left your lips and JJ wanted you to do that for the rest of your life — moaning only his name. “That’s it. That’s my girl.” He watched you as you took deep breaths, your chest heaving up and down, and as his mouth ached to touch yours, he listened to his own instincts and connected his lips with yours, catching them in a hungry kiss. His palms grabbed your naked skin with need, wrapping his fingers around your thighs and forcing them on his hips. Finally, he lifted you off the ground, a squeal leaving your mouth at the action.

“Need to fuck you properly, right baby?” He cockily said on your lips. The weak feeling in your limbs led you to just hum at his words and press your mouth to his again. Meanwhile, JJ gathered your clothes, for he didn’t wish for any of his roommates to find your underwear lying around, and carried you inside his room upstairs, wanting nothing but to spend the rest of his evening tangled in the sheets with you.

—

“Just admit you like him! At least a little bit.” Elle exasperatedly exclaimed, following you around the house as you finished getting ready for your night out. 

JJ and his teammates had decided to spend an evening with some friends, you and Elle included, to cheer up their captain before the end of his suspension, seen it had been almost two weeks since. During that time, you and JJ had been inseparable, always hanging out and finding yourselves naked more often than not.

Your best friend had noticed this new behavior, and she knew you all too well not to have realized that there was something in your eyes that sparkled each time he was brought up in a conversation, as if the name itself brought joy to you – which you were attempting at denying in that very moment. 

“I like him as a friend.” You groaned, placing your earrings in your pierced ears as you looked at yourself in the mirror. It was going to be a simple hang out, and yet you couldn’t help but want to dress up and feel beautiful – something that had been so easy to do for a while.

She scoffed. “A friend that treats you like a girlfriend and that you basically fuck every day? Damn, that’s a good friend.” 

Rolling your eyes at her, you turned around, annoyance clear on your features. “I told him I couldn’t give him a relationship from the beginning, and he agreed to do this on my terms. Which means we’re just friends.” 

As you walked past her and towards the living room to put your shoes on, she continued. “You can’t stop him from falling in love, you know that, right?” And while you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, she sat next to you to add, “And you really want me to believe that you would be okay if he decided to start hanging out with another woman? If he decided to stay friends but put a stop to…this because he wants to ask some woman out and actually date?” 

You stared at her for a second, your mouth probably slightly agape as your hands had stopped midair for you had only grabbed the second shoe before those words had left her mouth. It should’ve been an easy answer: yes; yes you would’ve been okay with that because he wasn’t yours, and if he wanted to date someone, who were you to stop him? 

Then why was there a tight, constricting sensation in your chest at the mere thought of him treating another woman the way he treated you? Lucky for you, you didn’t have time to answer to her insistent questioning, nor to yourself, because the doorbell preceded you. 

“That’s gotta be him.” You announced softly before you raised from the couch and quickly reached the front door.

And there he was, handsome as always, and an adoring smile on his lips. “Hey, beautiful.” He whispered as he leaned closer to leave a gentle kiss on your cheek, his arm sneaking around your waist as he did so. 

“Hi.” Sheepishly you answered, relaxing against his embrace.

The rest of the night had seemed to flow smoothly, just friends having dinner and some laughs, taking everyone’s minds off the elephant in the room – that was JJ’s suspension. JJ’s hand rested comfortably on your bare thigh, rubbing the soft skin with his thumb, mindlessly, as if touching you had been the most natural thing in the world to him. His eyes were bright when he turned to you, amused by your tipsy grin, which had forced him to hold himself back from kissing it. 

From time to time, you would hide your face in his neck, giggling at the ticklish effect he’d had on you or at the dirty jokes he would whisper in your ear when no one was looking. It was so easy to feel lighter when he was around, to have absolutely no worry in the world – that is what makes a great friendship, right? 

And then, just when you thought the night had been a success in cheering JJ up and taking his mind off things, you saw him. With the corner of your eye, you noticed him entering the bar, his friends laughing with him, and you prayed that neither him or JJ was going to see each other. However, that was too late. You felt the blond man tensing up all of a sudden, his hand tightening on your thigh, and a fire in his eyes, that you mistakenly took for anger, began to arise. 

“Jay,” you whispered as you forced him to focus on you rather than the man that had led him to his suspension, “Look at me. Just ignore him, please?”

When his eyes landed on yours, he could feel the anger dissipates, as another kind of fire had been ignited by the way you were pleading him with your gaze. He nodded once, giving all of his attention to the feeling of your hand on his bare bicep and the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips.

“What the hell is he doing here?”

You shrugged, not caring one bit about the guy. “Maybe they were in the neighborhood, I don’t know. Don’t give him attention, that’s what he wants —“

“I think that’s a bit late for that.”

“What?” You asked, confused at his words as you turned in order to look in the direction of the captain of the Redwood team. “Shit.” You mumbled once you realized that he was walking towards your table.

JJ hated this. He hated how much power a jerk like him had over him. He hated that he was coming over during a chill evening with his friends. He hated that he was already looking at you as if you had been his prey.

But most of all, JJ absolutely loathed that this man could get under his skin only by mentioning you. He had always been a passionate man, perhaps the fact that he had never had anything nor anyone to call his growing up played an important factor, however, it was so much different with you. His affection for you grew with each passing day, and so did his jealousy and possessiveness over you. None of those things should have, but he had no idea how to stop them.

“Well, what do we have here?” Were the first words Alec exclaimed when he approached you and your friends. “Are you all having a reunion with your ex captain?” The two men that were with him laughed at his words, and you were sure they were also on the Redwood team.

“Listen, man, we don’t want any trouble, so —“ Nick began, hoping that Alec would have gotten the message, but he was interrupted by him.

“C’mon,” he snickered, “we’re just having fun, right?” Then, his eyes landed on you, on the closeness between you and JJ, and you weren’t sure what was about to happen until he placed his hands on the wooden table in front of you and leaned towards you. “You still with him, doll face? You know you could do much better.” He winked at you, causing bile to rise up your throat.

“You should leave.” JJ all but growled as his hold on you got tighter, and you truly didn’t know what was going on between them. His hands closed into fists while the hard stare he was giving the man in front of you was the definition of ‘if looks could kill’.

He raised his hands in the air in defense, “I’m just playing, man.” He started backing up, signaling that he was finally putting some distance, “I’m leaving, alright? No hard feelings?” He didn’t give enough time to make up an answer before he turned around while the rest of the table went back into their previous conversation. Then, looking behind his shoulder, he added, “Bye, doll face.”

You felt JJ attempting to get up from his seat and you immediately stopped him by placing a hand on his thigh. He turned his head to you, an unfamiliar storm in his eyes had replaced his usual sweet stare and you wished to have had the ability to read minds in that moment.

“Why are you acting like a guard dog?” You whispered so that no one could’ve overheard your conversation.

Avoiding eye contact with you, he grumbled under his breath, “‘M not acting like anything.”

You searched for his gaze, almost wordlessly pleading for him to look at you. All that you wanted was to go back to normal and aiding him in his attempt at forgetting everything that happened at the last game. “Right. So just good old healthy competition, huh?” You joked, hopefully lighting the mood.

He sighed and finally gave you the satisfaction of his gaze, now soft and attentive again. “I just hate that guy, alright? He’s a dick.”

You placed your hand on his exposed forearm, comforting him as you brought all his attention on you and only you. “Yes, he is. So don’t let him get under your skin, okay?” He nodded at your words, a hint of anger still lingering in his ocean eyes. Raising your head in order to be closer to his ear, you lowered your voice teasingly, “Although I have to admit…jealousy looks cute on you.”

Raising one eyebrow, he cockily murmured, “Is cute really the word you want to use to describe me? I would prefer sex god.”

The smirk that was playing on his lips was tempting you to kiss him right there and then, but thank God you still had some self control.

“Oh really? I’m not sure that fits the description.” You added with a tone of faux innocence as you had to bite down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from laughing in his face.

JJ’s eyes bore into yours; a glint of challenge swam in his ocean, and you were both excited and intrigued by it. He slowly licked his lips, his usual mischievous smile hidden by his hurt ego and lust.

“Time to say goodbye to our friends, baby girl.” He finally rasped before he bent his head to whisper in your ear, “I have a point to prove to you.”

And let’s just say that he proved his point that night — many times.

taglist:

@notslay-norcleor @poppet05 @solargazes @cindersnightmare @chaostudee @goldenroutledge @harleyharlot @babypoguelife @voguesir @vigilanteshitposting @gemofthenight @magnificantmermaid @f4ll-for-you @marzipaanz @guililove @freyawhitexxx1 @mistalli @shady-the-simp @fangirl-madz @one-sweet-gubler @camelliaflow3r @emery-333 @hallecarey1 @lovelornanonymity @rafetopia @maybankslover @futurecorps3 @maybanksbabe @moremaybank @jjsbank444 @vivian-555 @jjfordays @highpope @livsters @starkeylover @peachpitlover @fishingirl12 @congratsloserr @loveu-always @rentaldarling @embersfae @bee6r @savagemickey03 @idli-dosa @hotchsstuff @forevermoreharrington + in the comments!

[i-love-ptv]

no stop this is too cute

˚❀˚ real footage of jj telling everyone you made it official ˚❀༉‧₊˚.

[i-love-ptv]

my fav era actually

Something about this hair specifically makes me feel unhinged and psychotic like it’s so sexy 90s boy and I need to yANK on it

[i-love-ptv]

I feel like all of the rafe fics are all weird “kinks” and just dark like where’s the normal ones

RIGHT

like yes guys, i’m aware of the character we’re talking abt and how crazy he is, but i’m not abt to do all of this foul shit 😭😭

“just scroll if you don’t like it” i def get it but i just wanna know your thought process behind writing rafe almost choking you out entirely…

every other post under the tags are something dark like can we PLEASE have a little more softer stuff..

#lee’s ted talks #guys please my heart can’t take it

[i-love-ptv]

Having sex with ur step sibling is not bad it just depends on how long you’ve known each other lmao😭I don’t see why it’s a big deal💀💀

DAWG AINT NO WAY 💀💀

Just because y’all aren’t blood related doesn’t take away the fact that you’re sleeping w someone that has that role of a family member.

idc if i’ve known my step sibling for 2 minutes bro, i’m not gonna sit there and be like “oh yeah, i HIGHKEY wanna hit.”

I can def tell you’re hurt cause you read abt stepcest lmfaooooo

If you feel this strong then go ahead n say smth w/o being anon

#lee’s ted talks #this is foul asl #ts got me rolling bro #NORMAL people don’t think #the same way you do btw #diff typa mental illness

[i-love-ptv]

bro what is up with yall n incest???

like it’s not even just one person, i’ll scroll through the rafe cameron, jj maybank, and leon kennedy tags n see hella incest and (or) stepcest..

this shit is not cute at all. y’all are some freaky ass LOSERS.

#lee’s ted talks #y’all are literal weirdos #leon kennedy x reader #rafe cameron x reader #jj mayback x reader

[i-love-ptv]

this is so cute somebody sedate me NOW

Book Club

Pairing: The grid x driver!reader, Lance Stroll x reader

Summary: A wild goose chase ensues when you are at a meeting with your book club

requests are open (plz send some, i can’t keep only getting ideas while driving 🥺) masterlist

————————

“Guys, have you seen y/n?” Lance panics, rushing into the McLaren garage. It’s not the first time his girlfriend had disappeared from her garage but he’s always been able to find you a few steps away.

“She’s missing?” Lando leaped out of his chair. “Come on, Oscar, we gotta find her,” Lando drags his teammate out of the garage, following Lance to the Mercedes garage to find George.

“Any y/n sightings?” a very stressed out Lance asks.

“No, but now I am invested,” the Brit tags along in the search, hopping over to the Ferrari garage.

“Mes amis, you seem stressed,” Charles says, looking up from his book.

“Y/n is missing, Lance can’t find his girlfriend,” Oscar sighs, not sure why he isn’t leaving the group.

“No, we must join the quest, Charles,” Carlos says, clapping his teammate on the shoulder.

“Alright, only for y/n,” Charles, like oscar, begrudgingly agrees to join the ‘noble quest’.

Meanwhile, y/n is sitting on the couch, wearing a chunky cardigan and a pair of fashion glasses, sipping tea.

“No, Lizzy was clearly in love with Darcy even then,” Fernando waves his hands. This month’s book was Pride and Prejudice.

“Sure, Fernando,” Valtteri rolls his eyes.

The book club, affectionately called ‘The Old Drivers Club’ started when y/n barged into the Haas garage, claiming she needed their opinions and that she was tired of all the young drivers. Despite her being only 21, she found a home with some of the older drivers in the Paddock. The club consisted of her, Fernando, Valtteri, Kevin, and Nico. Lewis wanted to hold on to his youth, as he claimed, and Checo didn’t quite care for their gossip sessions.

“I still don’t understand how you can go from a 20 year old party animal to a 80 year old grandma overnight,” Kevin teases the young girl, bringing up a common point of conversation (usually her complaining about the younger drivers).

“And I don’t understand how you all don’t find Nico attractive? If I was ten years older, I would be all over him. God damn, what a fine man,” you swoon, causing the German to blush fiercely.

“Yes, yes, someone who could outshine Charles Leclerc in his prime,” Fernando dismisses it with the wave of his hand. You giggle and refocus on the book discussion.

“Nando,” you prompt him, silently asking him to go to the next topic.

“Alright, alright, let’s discuss what was probably y/n’s favorite scene, the confession scene. The second one, not in the rain,” Fernando says, and you shyly look down, the older drivers knowing you too well.

“Max, Checo, have you seen y/n?” Lance asks, even more flustered, half the grid behind him.

“Y/n? Why do you ask?” Max says, looking at his teammate.

“She’s missing!” Lando exclaims causing Checo to laugh.

“No, no. She’s with her book club, in the Haas motor home. I sometimes join them, interesting gossip, but not quite for me, no,” Checo says, looking oddly at the group.

“Her- her book club?” Lance asks, utterly confused.

“Si. Lewis has been invited too, but he claims he is too young,” Checo laughs to himself.

“Sorry mate, a book club?” George asks, a little offended he was never invited.

“And gossip? I’m a little offended I’ve never been invited,” Pierre gasps.

“Well? Is that all,” Max asks, wanting the group to leave his garage.

“Right, well I guess we go to Haas,” Carlos says, quickly thanking the Red Bull drivers.

“VALTTERI!” Your astonished gasp is heard from outside. Your group had moved on to what some think is the more enjoyable part of the evening, the gossip.

“Y/n! Oh thank god, we were worried sick,” Lando dramatically says at the doorway, having opened the door, revealing your group. The five of you look at the other group wildly confused.

“Worried sick?” You ask, looking at them.

“You were missing, I couldn’t find you,” Lance scratches the back of his neck, a little confused.

“I,” you pause before laughing. “Lancelot, you could’ve texted me,” you tell him.

“Why weren’t Pierre and I invited?” George asks, looking accusingly at your group.

“You don’t fit the criteria,” Kevin says, dismissing the question.

“And y/n does?” Pierre asks.

“Yes. When she sits upside down on your couch to gossip and complain about you all, and ask for life advice, then we might consider it,” Nico shakes his head.

“She is the founder of our group,” Valtteri points out.

“You also have to find young Nico attractive, more than current Charles,” Fernando teases, causing the young girl to blush.

“He was!” You defend yourself, and Carlos nods in agreement.

“Your girlfriend, mate. I’m surprisingly glad I tagged along,” Oscar says to Lance, pretty amused at the chaos.

“Out of curiosity, what is your next book?” George asks, your face lighting up.

“We are on a classics kick right now, so we are reading the No Fear version of Romeo and Juliet,” you say excitedly causing George and Charles to groan.

“We can’t join?” Charles asks again.

“Sorry, Leclerc, only room for one hot driver here,” Nico winks at you, causing your cheeks to redden.

“HEY!” most of the drivers in the room take offense to it, Lando mainly because the wink was directed at his girlfriend.

“Alas, if only you didn’t have a wife and kid, and I was ten years older,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“In another life, Mein Liebchen,” Nico sighs as well.

“Alright, I’m stealing back my girlfriend,” Lance pulls you away.

“Lancelot,” you giggle, waving goodbye to your book club.

“It is in these moments that I remember how young she is and how old we are,” Fernando sighs, Lewis taking your seat.

“My bones ache more and more each day, mate,” Lewis shakes his head.

“Welcome to our club, have the first act read by the next race,”

[i-love-ptv]

oh my GOD. this is one of the best jj fics i’ve ever read and it’s DEF a new favorite 😋

in between 𓂃 ࣪ ˖ 𐦍

pairing best friend!jj maybank x fem!reader

summary best friends since the first grade, it was only inevitable that you and jj would fall for each other. however, when a single night suddenly changes things between you, you’re both left wondering if you ever should’ve tried to cross the line at all. [11.8k]

warnings 18+, unprotected sex (sorry, but what else is new?), dry humping, oral (m. receiving), daddy kink, pet names (pretty girl, princess, etc.), dirty talk, body-shaming (not by jj), reader's parents being shitty, drunk jj causing a scene at a party, childhood best friends to lovers, a love confession, i think that's it???

author's note i really hope you guys like this one! kinda nervous bc i haven't posted a full fic in awhile, but i think i'm happy with it. ik it's long, but i think it's worth it! also, enjoy the logan huntzberger (gilmore girls) cameo LOL

in between universe | jj masterlist | playlist | kofi

Amid the raging storm outside, a series of frantic knocks on your front door echoed through your house. You rushed to the door, swinging it open to reveal a drenched and dishevelled JJ Maybank. 

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed in panic, yanking him inside. Your hands quickly found his face, and then his shoulders as your eyes scanned his body for any signs of injury. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” 

“Hello to you, too,” he greeted, smiling down at you. He couldn’t deny the stroke his ego got, nor the fluttering in his stomach he felt when you worried for him. “I’m fine, by the way. Jus’ a tad cold.” 

JJ hoped you’d take the hint and pull him into your arms — the place he always longed to be — but was caught off guard when your hand slapped his chest. “Hey!” 

“What if you catch pneumonia?!”

“I’m fine, Y/N/N.”

“Fine? You could’ve gotten killed!” 

“By what? The gentle breeze outside?” That earns him another slap. “Ow!”

“Don’t smart-mouth me, Maybank.” 

“You love my smart mouth,” he teases, pinching your cheek playfully. 

Once again, his hopes were wrong, because while he was praying for a glimpse of that smile that made his knees weak, your hand came flying at him for a third time. Luckily for him, he was quick, catching your wrist and pulling you to stand right in front of him. 

“You’re gonna wanna be real careful about what you do next, princess.” Powerful blue eyes locked with yours and you knew that he’d won. “Gotta say, this is not the welcome I was expecting. Kinda hoped I’d get a kiss or somethin’.” 

Your heart sang at his comment, but you remained focused on the outside, keeping your face straight. 

“For what? Being an idiot?”

Then, he gave you the face. 

Pouty, and adorable, and JJ, and just like he had planned, you started to fold. 

You couldn’t stay mad at him if you tried. 

Even if he helped. 

“I’m sorry. I’m just worried. You aren’t invincible, you know.” 

He visibly softened at your words, as if he wasn’t soft on you before, and he released your wrist. But he didn’t give your hand back to you. Instead, he kept it with him, mindlessly playing with your fingers so he wouldn’t have to give up the physical contact.

“C’mon. You really think I’m gonna let anythin’ stop me from annoying you for the rest of your life? Not a chance, baby.” 

Baby. Uh oh. Your resolve was beginning to waver. 

“‘N the reason I came is ‘cause I didn’t want my pretty girl alone in this mess,” he murmured, and you detected some shyness in his voice. “Besides, when have we ever spent a storm night apart?” 

Aaand it was gone. 

Vanished. 

He always knew how to get you. Then again, you always let him. 

You tilted your head, fighting a smile and losing miserably when it broke free. “Alright. I guess you’re sweet. Even if you’re an idiot.” 

“There’s my girl,” he grinned. “Now gimme a hug. I’m cold.” He tried to reach out for you, but you backed away, putting more distance between you two.

“No way, you’re soaked,” you laughed, now extremely grateful for the cozy pjs you were sporting.

“Oh, c’mon. You’re really not gonna hug me?” He picked up an old-timey accent when he spoke next, “I ventured through the brave storm to see you, m’lady. The least you could do is offer me a warm embrace.” 

He was so animated with it that it was damn near impossible not to giggle. “My sincerest apologies, sir. You seem to be out of luck.” 

“Alright, that’s it.” 

Before you knew it, JJ lunged at you. You let out a squeal, running as fast as you could with your socks slipping against the marble tiles. 

It took a little bit of time, and you’d covered a lot of area in the house by the time he finally captured you. Strong, brawny arms wrapped around your frame and picked you up right off the ground. He spun you around in the air a few times, relishing in the sun-soaked laughter that escaped you before putting you down. 

You turned around in his grip, looking incredibly earnest when your hands came to rest on his arms. “Thanks for coming to save me. Not that I needed it.” 

He smiled warmly at your statement. “I’ll always come ‘n save you,” he said, capturing your chin between his fingers. His thumb stroked over your chin softly. “You’re my Y/N/N. Nothin’s more important than you.” 

You found yourself stuck in an intense stare with him yet again, your heart thumping loudly at his sincerity and gooey sweetness. 

“Come on. You need to shower before you get sick.” 

You grabbed his hand, but he came willingly with a lovestruck look you couldn’t see. 

“Yes, ma'am.” 

—

After shoving JJ into the shower and practically pouring a hot cup of tea down his throat to ensure he was warm from the inside out, the two of you found solace in your cozy and — in JJ’s words — kooky bed with your backs against the pillows and headboard. 

“Make fun all you want but you and I both know I have to drag you out of here kicking ‘n screaming every time you sleepover.” 

“…Shut up.”

Despite his words, JJ huddled closer to you under the plush covers. The wind howled outside, alongside the occasional rumble of thunder. If it weren’t for the light casting around the room from your TV, and the entirely hilarious sitcom How I Met Your Mother playing in the background, the ambience would’ve made the room feel eerie.

“So,” JJ began, breaking the silence, “you heard from your parents lately? Thought they were supposed to come back this week?” 

Ah, yes. Your parents. 

From a young age, you’d learned not to expect much from the people who had brought you into the world.

The minute they realized they could, they’d handed you off to a nanny and threw themselves back into the lives they’d lived before you had arrived. Your mom went heavy on the scotch and retail therapy, and your dad had re-immersed himself in his work. When he wasn’t doing that, he was squandering his free time away at the country club, playing golf and consuming copious amounts of alcohol alongside your mother.

Anything to get out of the house, and, evidently, away from you. 

The older you grew, the less you saw of them as they travelled the world for business. By the time you were fifteen, you’d pretty much been living in that enormous mansion all by yourself for ten months out of the year. 

Sometimes, even more. 

Not that you’d ever voice your complaints to them. You knew they wouldn’t hear you. They’d simply spew out something along the lines of ‘Sweetheart, you’ve never had to work for anything in your life. if you had, you’d understand that we can’t be there for every silly little dance recital or graduation.’ 

And yes, that included your high school graduation. 

When they did spend time with you, that time would be filled with snarky comments about your appearance and about your sympathy for the pogues. Nothing about you ever seemed to satisfy them.

But somehow, amid the loneliness and abandonment you’d been able to comprehend from far too young of an age, you’d found and held onto the one person who made it all melt away. 

JJ. 

It was the first day of second grade, and all the children in your class were colouring. All of them except for the little blonde boy who sat across the room, by himself, with a blank sheet of paper in front of him, but nothing to colour with. You were only six at the time, but you could sense that he was alone too. And your heart hurt for him because it hurt the same way for you. 

So, you got up from your seat, grabbed your paper and your sixty-four pack of crayons (the pack that every child dreamt of having) and trotted off to his table. You perched yourself in the chair beside his and offered to share your crayons with him. 

At first, he just stared at you. You thought that maybe he didn’t want you there, but then, you saw the tiniest glimpse of his dimple when he gave you a small smile, nodding. 

“Thanks.” 

And now, a decade and a half later, you were just as inseparable as you had been since that very first day. 

Your house was now considered a home, had been since the moment JJ first stepped onto the marble flooring with his boyishly muddy shoes. He filled the aching silence with laughter and excitement and finally, finally, some cherishable memories. 

Like how he’d helped you climb your first tree, and carried you on his back into your house after you’d scraped your knee while doing so. Camping in your backyard and sprinting inside once non-forecasted rain came pouring down on your flimsy little kiddy tent. He’d accidentally stolen your first kiss (and he’d never admit it, but he was and still is overjoyed to have done so). Movie nights where he’d let you pick the film and sit happily while you pushed his hair back and applied a face mask to his tanned skin. 

Anything you wished for, JJ would give it to you without a second thought. Any time you needed him, he’d drop everything to run over to you. He was loyal, sweet, hilarious, thoughtful, and though he was good at hiding it from the light, his heart was pure gold. 

But what had mattered most to you was that in a world where everyone close to you had chosen to leave, he was the one who had stayed. 

Without him, there was noise. 

With him? Quiet. 

Peaceful, and calm, and quiet. 

No one turned your world like him. And that made it that much more inevitable to fall for him. 

The feeling of JJ’s finger tapping against your temple broke you out of your daze. “Hey. You in there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you replied. “My mom called me a couple days ago to tell me they cancelled their flight. They’re coming back on Monday instead.” 

“So, basically, what I’m hearin’ is that they just didn’t wanna be stuck in the house with you all weekend.” 

“Precisely.” 

You mocked your mother’s voice when you spoke next. “You know I can only take that sorry little island in small doses. Besides, if we come home now, we’ll be holed up in the house during that storm. Why on earth would I trade my penthouse view for that?”

JJ gave you a sad look, obviously upset for you. It wasn’t like he expected much from them either, but he knew that deep down, even if you refused to admit it, it stung. 

They really couldn’t spend one weekend with you? Being with their daughter is that much of a hardship for them? 

“Stop. It’s fine.” And you meant it. These kinds of stunts were nothing new to you. You didn’t think they were gonna race home to you to make sure you were okay. A quick text would suit them just as well. 

“Don’t do that,” he stopped you. “You’re allowed to be upset. Your parents are assholes.” 

Assholes that were so far past unaware of the remarkable person they’d given life to. It shook him to his core, the realization that someone so beautiful both inside and out had come from two cold and selfish people. 

But if they would never appreciate you, who cared, because JJ knew he always would. 

He’d never let a single moment pass without telling you how special you were. How much you’d helped him, given him a safe haven and shoulder to cry on when he needed it. 

Given him peace. 

And, if he ever worked up the damn courage…he’d spend every minute of the rest of his life telling you how much he loved you. 

You just shrugged in response. “It is what it is. I’m luckier than most.” 

He frowned at that. It’d always hurt him to watch you belittle your problems just because you were better off financially. It was almost as if you were numb.

“Well, at least they’ll be here for your birthday. That’s somethin’.” 

“Nah, they’re flying back to New York on Friday.” 

“Are you serious?” He asked, sitting up straight now. “They couldn’t wait one day?” 

“You know how they feel about birthdays, J.” 

That was true. JJ had heard them give you the ‘Why should you be rewarded for being born? That isn’t an achievement,’ talk countless times over the years. They’d just stick a wad of cash into your nanny’s hand and tell her to take you out to the mall as if their missing your birthday would be fixed with a shopping spree. 

As if it would erase the resentment you knew they felt toward you. 

“That doesn’t make it right,” he said, growing frustrated. “Y/N/N, it, like, sickens me to keep watchin’ ‘em treat you like this. You gotta say something.” 

“Like what, J? They’d never listen. Just drop it.” 

He deflated a bit, leaning back into his original position. “Look, ‘m sorry, okay? I just…I don’t get it. You’re amazin’, you’re— you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t know how they don’t feel the same.” 

Damn it. There he went again, making it impossible for you to be in a sour mood. 

Gingerly, you turned to him, sitting with your legs criss-crossed. “You’re the only one keeping me going, y’know that? I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

He sat up once more and cupped your cheek, thumb brushing against the apple of it as he looked deep into your eyes. It felt like he was staring into your soul. 

“I promise you’ll never have to find out.” He looked down then, biting his lip slightly before meeting your gaze again. “I put that on my life.”

The rest of the world faded away while the two of you stayed in that moment, frozen in time as if you were a scene captured in a snow globe. 

It was times like these when you felt yourself start to believe the things Kie was always telling you. 

“I’m just saying, like, how do you not see it?” 

She’d been up your ass ever since the boys had split up from you two and left The Wreck. Kie was working at the counter, filling up drinks and cashing out takeout orders. 

Oh, and pestering you about JJ’s so-called affections for you.

“Maybe because I’ve known him since we were six and I know what it looks like when he flirts with other girls,” you remarked.

“Okay, but, like, you’re not just some random girl to him. You’re you.”

You made a face. “I don’t even know what that means.” 

The groan that emitted from her lips was loud enough to catch the attention of countless customers, but she didn’t seem to care.

“You’re impossible,” she said, placing the lids on three soft drinks. “I’ve known JJ almost as long as you have, and in that time, one thing about him has always been crystal-fucking-clear. He’s in love with you. Always has been, always will be.”

“Whatever you say,” you hummed in response, taking a sip of your Coke and pushing away the warm, fuzzy feeling floating through you at the thought of her words being true. 

Meanwhile, JJ was struggling not to act on his desires. 

It was the perfect moment. 

You were quite literally in his hands — or hand, rather — looking as beautiful as ever. He could kiss you. Right now. Plant one on you, a real kiss, unlike that accidental peck he shared with you at the age of twelve. He’d truly get to taste you this time around and silently convey all his love for you. 

And then, fate helped him out. 

The lights flickered and cut out in time with a rumble of thunder, leaving the two of you in complete darkness. 

JJ took it as a sign. 

He leaned forward, and his lips connected with yours. It was soft, tentative at first to see if you’d back off or push him away. To his surprise, your hand snaked up his front, fisting his shirt and pulling him closer. He took that as permission and kissed you deeper, his tongue stroking against yours in a dizzying fashion. The action made you moan into his mouth, and he pocketed the sound in his mind, saving it for later when he was alone and was thinking about you. 

And not in an innocent way. 

JJ’s hands found your waist, sliding down to your hips before tugging you closer. You took his invitation and clambered your way onto his lap, your lips never leaving his. 

God, kissing him felt good. Too good. It was nothing like you’d ever imagined. No, it was better. He kissed you like he’d stop breathing if he didn’t. Like the world would burst into flames and end right then and there if he let go of you. 

You didn’t know what was happening, and frankly, in fear of the truth, you had no plans of asking him. If this was the only way you could ever have him, you’d take it without a second thought, consequences be damned. 

You were sure that your decision was nowhere near wise, but there was simply no time for wisdom. 

JJ, your JJ, was kissing you. Kissing you and touching you and giving himself over to you, even if it was only for one night. 

And if doing this was wrong, for once in your life, you didn’t want to be right.

JJ’s hands pulled at the hem of your shirt, and you broke the kiss to let him strip you of it. He tossed it carelessly while his eyes landed on your bare tits. 

“Christ,” he whispered, his hands coming up to cup them both. “These are fuckin’ perfect.” 

His thumbs brushed over your nipples and you shivered. “J.” 

“Shh. I gotchu, baby. Relax for me, yeah? Let me take my time?” 

“Yeah,” you breathed. “But can you take your shirt off? Wanna see you too.” 

He smiled. You were so damn sweet, it would nearly give him a toothache. “Yeah, pretty girl. I can do that.” 

JJ shrugged off his beat-up Heyward’s tee, discarding it on the floor. You ogled at him, at least ninety percent sure that huge red cartoon hearts were projecting from your eyes. 

“You’re droolin’ a bit, there,” JJ teased, thumbing at your lip. 

Heat crept up into your face at his comment. “Shut up.” 

On the inside, he loved the way you were looking at him. You handled him delicately, hands cradling his face as if he were an intricate piece of artwork that you wanted to study and commit to memory. 

Every line, every slope, every curve.  

Every last stunning piece of him.

“You’re so beautiful, J.” 

JJ had been loved by you since elementary school. Sure, it was in a best friend's way, but being loved by you had changed his world. Now, with the way you were looking at him, the way you were speaking to him, the way you were touching him…he couldn’t help but imagine that this was what it’d be like to really be with you. 

He turned bashful, his heart still fluttering at your words. “‘M supposed to be sayin’ that to you. Look at you.” 

“Stop that,” you said, looking him right in the eyes. “You deserve to be loved on. Let yourself have this. Let yourself feel loved, J.” 

Those words echoed in his mind. JJ never felt like he deserved anything good, so he always pushed those opportunities away. Ruined them and made them inaccessible. But with you in his arms, pleading with him to let you show him that he was worthy, he started to believe that maybe he did deserve something positive. 

And if it were coming from you? Well, he’d take it without question.

He surged forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. He wanted to kiss you until his lips were sore, and even then, he wouldn’t stop. 

With greedy hands, the both of you touched every sliver of skin you could find, your lips never leaving the others for a second. Your hands found their way to JJ’s unruly golden locks, fingers carding through them so you could tug on them a little. A deep rumble of satisfaction came from JJ’s throat, and the noise had been so heavenly that your hips started to roll against his on their own accord. 

The friction was toe-curling, so addicting that you couldn’t stop rutting against him even if you wanted to. He was hard as a rock, and big. So big. You didn’t even need him to get naked to know you were right. 

“F-Fuck,” JJ stammered against your lips, though his hands didn’t stop helping your hips move. “Keep goin’ ‘n I’ll cum before I’m even inside you.” 

“But you feel so good,” you whined. Your brows were pulled together and your jaw was slack, the stimulation already getting you close. “Oh my god.” 

“Baby—”

“Please, J. I need it. Don’t make me stop. P-Please don’t make me stop.” 

You were right on the edge, and all JJ could focus on were your pretty pleas and the desperation written all over your face. He wanted to watch you explode, wanted to watch you go slack as the pleasure rolled through you. Wanted to hear what you sounded like when you came for him.

So he encouraged you. 

“Go ‘head, pretty girl. Make a mess. Get yourself nice ‘n wet for me.” His lips found your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin to leave his mark. He felt you cling to him as your actions sped up, his cock throbbing as he tried to fight off his high. It almost took everything in him not to give in. “Good girl. You got it.” 

You came loudly, chest heaving up and down as your body twitched and went through the motions of your release. You felt JJ leave more wet kisses across your chest as you tried to regulate your breathing, your hand playing with his hair carelessly. 

“That might’ve been the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, baby,” he spoke, his hands rubbing up and down your sides. Goosebumps formed underneath his fingertips, and he couldn’t help himself from realizing how responsive your body was for him. 

It’d never been like this with anyone else. No one could compare to you. He didn’t even have to sink into you for confirmation. 

He was fucking done for.

JJ never thought his complete and utter devotion to you could ever run deeper in his veins, but here you were, proving him wrong. 

He was more than fine with that. 

“Fuck me, J. Need you inside me,” you said, hands running over the planes of his chest. Your lip was caught between your teeth, and JJ could tell that you were feeling shy. 

“How could I ever deny you when you’re askin’ me so nicely, huh?” He thumbed at your bottom lip, trying to break it free so he could kiss you again. He did, giving you a deep kiss bubbling over the top with affection. “How do you want it?” 

“Wanna ride you. Can I?” 

Fuck. 

“You can have whatever you want, princess.” 

You grinned, your hands running down the path of his front before finding the button of his pants with ease. You popped it open, unzipping them and tugging his boxers down. His cock sprang out, beautiful and pink and curved. The bead of pre-cum caught your eye, and your mouth watered instantly, dying to know what he tasted like. You dipped your head down, your tongue sticking out and swirling around his tip gently as you coated your tastebuds with him. You were about to dive in for seconds when JJ stopped you. 

“Please don’t, baby. I won’t last.” 

You pouted. “But I wanna suck you off. Don’t you wanna fuck my throat?” 

Christ. Those sinful words sounded nothing but heavenly, and it was hard to resist you. 

“Promise you can later. But right now,” he paused, hands grabbing you and pulling you to straddle his lap again, “I need to feel that pretty pussy.” 

“Yes, daddy.” 

JJ threw his head back with a groan. “You’re really tryna kill me, aren’t you?” 

You simply giggled in response, before circling your hand around his cock. You slid his tip through your folds, from your creamy slit to your clit — and the whimper you let out when you rubbed it over your bundle of nerves almost sent JJ into shock — then back down to your hole again. You started to sink down on him, letting out a hiss when he stretched you wide. Once his tip was inside, JJ swore he started to drool. He was barely inside you and yet your hot, wet walls felt like ecstasy. 

When you sank down all the way, JJ let out a tortured, “Fuckin’ soaked, fuck.” Your walls fluttered subconsciously, and he groaned. “Move for me before I bust. Please.” 

“No cumming yet, J,” you tutted, slowly beginning to bounce on him and giving in to his wishes. He was so big, it was a miracle that you could fit him completely. The intrusion had you feeling so full, but he was hitting every square inch of your cunt and you were on cloud nine. You picked up a good rhythm, earning praise from JJ as you did so.  

“There ya go, baby. Thaaat’s it,” he rasped, leaning back against the headboard to watch you work. His hands cupped your tits as they bounced, feeling your pert nipples rubbing against his palms. “Fuck. Me. Shit.” 

His favourite girl, the star of every single fantasy he’s ever had, was beautifully bare and in his lap, riding the fuck out of his cock. He denied the urge to shut his eyes, no matter how euphoric he felt, ‘cause he didn’t want to miss a single second.

Lost in the pleasure, your hands migrated from his built shoulders to his chest, and you clawed at him. He hissed but ultimately enjoyed the stinging feeling pricking at his skin. 

You could tell because, within a millisecond, his broad arms had enveloped your entire frame and started bucking his hips upward and taking control.

You gasped his name in shock, your own arms instinctively wrapping around him to hold on for dear life. 

“Shh, baby. Let me do the work. You just keep takin’ this cock like a good girl for me, ‘kay?���  

Oh, that mouth. That perfect, filthy mouth. You could’ve died right there if he let you. 

“Y-Yeah.” 

“Yeah, who? What’s my name in here, angel?” 

“D-Daddy.” 

And the cheeky fucker smirked. “Damn fuckin’ straight.” 

He flipped you onto your back, your bare skin hitting the thick comforter. His hands curled around the backs of your knees as he kept you spread wide open for him. His eyes couldn’t help but drift to where you two were connected, watching you swallow his cock whole. 

“Such a good fuckin’ pussy,” he grunted. “Jus’ keeps gettin’ wetter ‘n tighter f’me.” 

“Yes. Yes. All for you, Daddy. S’all for you,” you called out when he started to fuck you harder. He was animalistic with it, the lust and need for you going into overdrive. It was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. 

Your excitement only grew when JJ leaned forward, his deliciously carved frame hovering above yours. Thick arms caged you in, and large palms held your head up. His forehead leaned against yours, blue eyes holding yours captive in a hypnotizing fashion.

“Eyes on me, baby. Want your eyes on me when you cum.” 

He knew you were getting there, your cries only increasing in volume as your pussy coated him completely in your slick. Your walls were contracting, tightening around him and threatening to take his breath away.

He also knew that his words would go a long way right now, judging by the way you’d been reacting to them thus far. 

“Tired, aren’t you, baby? Tired of carrying all that weight on your shoulders?” He asked, his breath fanning over your lips as he panted. He littered soft pecks across your cheek when you nodded, an intoxicating juxtaposition from the savoury and harsh pounding he was giving you. “Yeah, I know, babygirl. Always workin’ so damn hard tryna take care of all of us. Jus’ need someone to take care a’you for a change, yeah? Need Daddy to do all the work ‘n make y’feel good? That right?” 

Don’t get him wrong. JJ was a feminist. You’d raised him right. But he always had the crippling need to do whatever he could to make your days lighter, make your life easier. 

And now, apparently, that included fucking the stress out of you until you couldn’t even remember what had caused it in the first place. 

He let out a breathy and proud chuckle when your walls started to clamp down harder on him. He had you right where he wanted you; clinging onto him like a koala and keeping his skin pressed to yours, crying from his gifted hip work, and teetering on the peak of your orgasm. 

“C-Close, J. So close,” you gasped out, chest heaving drastically.

“Let go, baby. Let it all go for me, yeah?” 

One of JJ’s hands snaked down to rub your clit in tight circles, and he watched flames ignite in your eyes at the added stimulation. The wind was knocked out of your lungs when the band deep in your core finally snapped.

“That’s fuckin’ right,” he encouraged, continuing to fuck you through your high. His was creeping up on him, and he selfishly started to go harder, faster. “‘M gonna cum. Where d’ya want it, baby? Your tits? Stomach?” 

“M-My mouth. Promised you’d fuck it, remember?” 

He grinned maniacally. The mere thought of fucking his cum down your throat, hearing your gags and watching more of those pretty tears stain your cheeks…nothing sounded better. 

“I never break my promises with you, angel. Y’know that.” He pulled out from you, lifting you into a seated position so he could reach your mouth. You struggled to keep yourself upright, clinging onto JJ’s thighs. You looked up at him, teary-eyed with your tongue out and waiting. “Could fuckin’ cum just from the way you look right now, swear to God.” 

He smacked his length against your hot tongue a few times before sliding in all the way. A shiver rippled through him in delight. “Fuckin’ hell. Where’s this mouth been all my life?” 

He throbbed wildly, twitching when your tongue slithered against the thick vein of his underside. It didn’t take long for him to start thrusting into your mouth, starting off slow but speeding up as his greed skyrocketed. His hands thread through your hair, holding your head in place. Spit was pooling out around him and down your chin, countless tears were escaping from your eyes. Your hair was a mess. But you’d never looked more gorgeous. 

You moaned around him, sending vibrations and little jolts through his entire body when he announced to you that he was close. You released your grip on one of his thighs, cupping and massaging his balls. He fucked deeper and deeper into your throat and soon, you watched him fall over the edge. A string of groans and curses fell from his lips, and he sounded better than anything you’d ever heard. 

Your favourite song of all time was now dethroned by the pornographic sounds emitting from the gorgeous and hypnotizing man in front of you. 

When he withdrew from your mouth and finally caught his breath, all he could do was beam down at you. His fingers scooped up the string of cum that clung to your lips and stuffed themselves into your mouth. You licked every last drop up and savoured it. 

Savoured him.

“‘N just when I thought you couldn’t drive me any crazier.” 

—

The world was different when JJ woke up. 

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and noticed the sun was shining, a nice contrast to the horrible weather from the previous night. He could hear birds chirping and the light breeze of wind flowing against the trees. But what was most different was the fact that you were curled up in his arms, smooth, bare skin pressed against his as you slept. It wasn’t like you two hadn’t cuddled before, but after last night’s escapades, the action just felt so much more intimate. He felt the smile growing on his face as the memories played in his head. He couldn’t believe he’d finally gotten to kiss you, let alone partake in any of the other activities you two did. 

JJ looked down at you, his precious girl, watching your chest heave as you tried to regulate your breathing. You were glowing, your hair a little messy, but it made his heart skip a beat when he thought about how it’d gotten to that point. The ghost of a smile played on your lips while you watched him in wonder. 

JJ leaned down, planting a soft kiss on your forehead and closing his eyes as he did so. “Stay here. Gonna grab a towel so I can clean you up.” 

He started to move, but your smaller hand wrapped around his wrist and tugged. “Don’t go. Can you just…lay with me for a bit?” 

The combination of your sulky doe eyes and still kiss-swollen, pouted lips was all too much. He could never say no to you, but at that moment? You’d never looked more vulnerable, and he just wanted to wrap you up in his arms and shield you from anything that would make you look as sad as you did right now. 

“Yeah, pretty girl,” he assured you, getting situated under the covers and opening his arms wide for you. “C’mere. Not goin’ anywhere.” 

You smiled with a shy nod, instantly slotting yourself into his arms and resting your head on his chest. You nuzzled your cheek against his bare skin, closing your eyes as you let his presence envelope you. 

“You promise?” You asked quietly. Your eyelids grew heavy, and you felt yourself slipping out of consciousness when his fingers danced up and down your back. 

“I promise,” JJ said. His head came to lean atop yours, his cheek smushed against your hair. “Couldn’t leave you if I tried, princess.” 

You started to shift in his hold, a small groan escaping your lips. 

“Mornin’, sunshine,” he greeted, sweeping some baby hairs away from your face. How you managed to look so effortlessly beautiful all the time was beyond him. Not that he was complaining. “You sleep okay?” 

“Mhm,” you hummed, unable to stop your lips from curling upward. “You?”

“Slept great.” 

You peered up at him, and he was already looking down at you. The minute your eyes met, it was just as last night when the rest of the world went quiet. It was just you and your favourite boy, stuck in a bubble where for once, everything felt right. Where you and JJ felt so happy, that nothing could put a damper on things.

Until your bedroom door swung open, revealing your mother. Once her eyes landed on a shirtless JJ beside you, steam was coming out of her ears. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” 

You sat up and held the sheets to your chest, keeping yourself covered up. “Mom, close the door!”

“Get up, get dressed, and get that pogue out of my house.”

“Always a pleasure, Mrs. Y/L/N.” 

She glared at him and slammed the door shut. You didn’t dare to look at JJ, completely mortified and ashamed of her behaviour. JJ sat up then, watching your teeth sink into your bottom lip the way they always did when you were deep in thought or stressed out. Without a second thought, he reached over, thumbing at your lip until it broke free from your teeth. 

“Stop that. Any harder ‘n you’ll bleed, babe.”

You gave him the tiniest glimpse of a smile. “Sorry.” 

You got up before he could respond, wrapping one of your sheets around your body and making your way to your bedroom door so you could lock it. Behind you, JJ also got up, slipping on his clothes before walking over to where you stood. 

“Hey,” he spoke, nudging your chin upward with his hooked index finger. “You okay?”

You nodded, slowly looking at him. “I’m just sorry about her.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me, alright? I don’t care about her, I just wanna make sure you’re good.” 

You nodded again wordlessly. It didn’t put JJ at ease. 

“I won’t go if you don’t want me to,” he told you. “Jus’ say the word ‘n I’ll stay.” 

You wanted to grab him and hold onto him for dear life. He was so sweet, too sweet for his own good. He always thought of you first, put you above everything else. It was nice, having someone do that for you for a change, but you couldn’t be selfish with him. So, you shook your head, looking downward and grabbing both of his hands. Your thumbs swiped over his knuckles as you mustered up the courage to let him go, knowing it was for the better. 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.” 

It was clear JJ didn’t believe you, but he knew better than to push you when it came to your parents. “You sure?” 

“Yeah.” 

He stayed right where he was for a moment. He didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to leave you to deal with the wrath of your mother alone. But he remembered the promise he’d made to himself; that he’d always do what you wished of him. 

He looked down at your joined hands, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach. His gaze flitted back up to yours, and he nodded hesitantly. Breaking free from your grasp, he gathered his belongings. He walked over to you again, his hand cradling your face. Tilting your head down slightly, he kissed your forehead in goodbye. 

“I’ll come by ‘n see you later, alright?” 

“Okay,” you said. 

He nodded, letting go of you slowly and walking the few footsteps to your door. But then, he turned around, his hand pausing on the doorknob. “Y/N/N?” His chest fluttered nervously, and he took a deep breath. “There’s, uh, somethin’ I wanna tell you. Somethin’ I needa tell you.” 

You watched him intently, and a sense of anticipation bubbled in your stomach. “What is it, J?”

You grasped his hand gently, and his mouth went dry. You were in such a vulnerable place with your parents showing up out of the blue, and that was not how he wanted things to be when he told you he loved you for the first time. 

“Y’know what? It’s nothin’. Forget it. I’ll see you tonight.” 

With that, he exited your bedroom, leaving both you and himself with heavy hearts. 

—

“Well, well. Look who’s finally decent,” your mother commented when you entered the kitchen fully dressed. 

You chose to ignore her comment. “What are you doing here, Mom? I thought the ferry wasn’t running.” 

“We took the jet and flew to the airstrip. Honestly, Y/N, it’s a miracle you can brush your teeth in the morning.” 

You held back your impending eye-roll.

“Is your little friend gone?” 

“Yes, Mom. JJ’s gone.” 

And you’d never needed him more. 

“Good. I knew that boy made you act like a child but I never thought that you’d throw everything we’ve given you away for someone with no potential and a criminal record.” 

And there it was. 

Any time your parents even thought they caught a glimpse of your blonde best friend, they were quick to pick out all his ‘flaws.’ Right off the bat, even as a child, they’d never respected him due to his pogue status. As if it were his fault, like he’d chosen his life himself. As if he’d chosen to be stuck with a father who’d never shown him love a day in his life. 

As if they had room to talk. 

Because the truth of the matter was, everything parents were supposed to do for their children — support them, comfort them, make them believe that they could be any and everything they wanted to be — wasn’t done by your parents. 

They were done by JJ.

If you hadn’t had JJ, you wouldn’t have known what unconditional love was. 

He was the one who reminded you that you could conquer the world. He’d held you through lonely nights, patched up your cuts and bruises when you were clumsy, helped you study (though he didn’t even study himself), and never failed to remind you that you were adored by him. 

So, when your mother dared to speak on JJ as if she had ever really tried to know him, it boiled your blood. “Where do you get off talking about him like that? He’s done more for me than you and Dad ever have.” 

The fire in your tone made your mother get up from her seat at the table immediately. She downed the contents of her glass — presumably scotch — and nearly slammed the glass on the table. 

“Is that so?” She scoffed. Steam practically shot out of your ears when she looked at you. “So he put you up in this house? He paid for all your foolish little dance lessons and bought you that Benz sitting in the driveway?” 

“That’s not what I—”

“I don’t care what you meant. You paint us out to be the villains in your life when we’ve done nothing but support you and give you everything you’ve ever dared to wish for.” 

“Support me?!Areyou delusional? When have you two ever supported me?”

Financially? Yes. Emotionally? Mentally? Likely story. 

“Don’t start. I’m simply speaking the truth. Now, tomorrow night, I expect you to stop acting like a spoiled brat and drop the attitude.” 

Your brows furrowed. “What’s tomorrow?”

“Last night, your father and I were at dinner with some colleagues, discussing the horrible storm and what it’s done to the southside of the island. They said they’d love to help support the people down there, and so your father came up with the brilliant idea to throw a benefit for The Cut.” 

Your parents wanted to help the pogues of the island? Were you dreaming? 

“It’s wonderful publicity for our company. We’ve been looking for an opportunity like this for weeks.” 

Nevermind. You were wide awake. 

“That being said, your father and I have informed the Huntzbergers that their son would be your date. You remember Logan, don’t you? He asked for you. I can’t fathom why, but what does it matter?” 

You’d met Logan many times over the years, the two of you being dragged by your parents to banquets, dinners, golf games, and so on. He was sweet, with a good sense of humour and a very handsome face if you were being honest. You’d always had the suspicion that he liked you, but obviously, those feelings had never been reciprocated. Not when a certain blonde troublemaker had plucked your heart right out of your chest and never given it back. 

A true kleptomaniac. 

“Mom, I can’t be Logan’s date.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me this is because of the Maybank boy.” Your silence and shifty look were enough to answer her. “Oh, honey. You don’t think that the two of you are together now, do you? He got what he wanted from you. You’ll never be anything more than an easy lay to him.” 

Though the morning had been tumultuous at best, your mind hadn’t even gone there. Not once. In fact, it’d been the opposite. You weren’t foolish enough to believe that JJ would profess his undying love for you, but you certainly didn’t think he’d up and leave now that he’d been with you. 

Would he? 

As the thoughts consumed you, you were once again reminded that every time you’d found an ounce of happiness, your parents were always quick to rip it from your grasp and stomp on it for good measure. 

“So, back to what I was saying. Please do not embarrass us. Wear something slimming.” She moved closer to you, tapping your hip. “You’re looking a little wide. Let’s hope you aren’t pregnant with the poor pogue’s child.” 

Without looking back, she exited the room, leaving you alone to chew on her words in the oh-so-familiar silence. 

—

JJ spent his entire shift at the auto shop convincing himself that tonight would be the night he finally fessed up. It’d always been so difficult for him; pushing his feelings for you so deep inside and ensuring that they’d never escape, but something had changed. Maybe it had been the events that had taken place the night before, or maybe it was the utter disappointment he’d felt in himself all day long after not confessing earlier on. 

He hopped in his truck, swinging down to the pier so he could grab a bouquet from your favourite flower cart. He might not have been a renowned romantic, but his girl was special, and she deserved to be treated as such. Though he stayed there for a while, scratching the back of his neck with a stressed look on his face, he eventually settled on a carefully wrapped set that he thought you’d like. 

A mixture of anticipation, nerves and excitement bubbled in his system. He hoped he wasn’t setting himself up for failure. But with the way you looked at him yesterday, shimmering stars in your eyes and the most gorgeous yet shy smile playing on your lips, it was hard not to let himself begin to trust the impossible. 

Maybe his dreams were within his reach after all. 

He let himself inside your house, skillfully sneaking past your parents (who were busy in planning mode) and making his way up to your empty room. He could hear shuffling coming from the bathroom and could see dozens of dresses littered across the floor accompanied by a few pairs of shoes. Half of him wondered if there’d been a tornado that only hit your closet. 

He was aching to get a glimpse of the girl who had spent the day taking up every one of his thoughts. Seeing you and being with you felt like home. A home someone would have to pry from his cold, dead hands because he’d rather die than ever let you go. 

“Y/N/N? You here?” 

When you emerged from the bathroom, JJ swore the wind was knocked out of him. His eyes trailed down your elegant frame, your curves clad in a dress he hadn’t seen you in before. Your hair was natural, and you were bare-faced, but JJ believed you could walk a damn red carpet looking the way you did and capture the eyes and hearts of everyone in that room. 

“Woah…” he breathed, awestruck. 

“Hi.” 

Your eyes were sad, and your lips were in a pout, but your tone would’ve been enough on its own to tell him that something had upset you. Reaching out for you, his warm hands found your hips and pulled you to him.  

“You make sad look beautiful, princess.” 

You smiled a little at his words before wrapping your arms around his torso and melting into him. “Thanks.” 

He hugged you back, completely void of hesitation. He took the time to drown in your scent. It was incredibly fitting; sweet and hypnotic, just like you. 

“What’s the matter?” 

You shook your head. “Nothing, it’s not a big deal. I’m just being sensitive.” 

“Hey,” he said, pulling away from you a little so he could look you in the eye. “It’s a big deal to me if it’s bothering you.” 

God, how did he do that? He could convince you to unload everything on him with a few words and that look in his eye that made you feel as if he wanted to know every single detail running around in your mind. Pair that with the warm loving touch he was smoothing over you, calloused palms rubbing your sides up and down a few times, and your words came leaking out of you like a faucet.

“Does this dress look right on me? It’s okay, you can be honest. I just need an opinion I can trust.” 

JJ felt a crack in his heart when those words left your lips. You wouldn’t even look at him, you just stared at the floor beneath your feet and smoothed out the fabric around your hips over and over as if you viewed yourself as anything less than perfection. 

You were the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes on. There wasn’t a single thing about you that he wasn’t crazy about. 

That he didn’t dream about. 

Tipping your face up by your chin and forcing your eyes on him so you could really hear what he was about to tell you, he spoke. 

“Pretty girl, y’almost killed me when you walked through that door.” 

“Really?” 

JJ couldn’t tell if he wanted to hug you so tight that you’d end up stuck to him, or kiss the daylights out of you when he saw that spark of hope light your face up. “Really. You look perfect.”

You smiled that adorable, bashful smile, the one you always gave him when he calmed your mind and silenced your doubts. 

Little did you know that he’d sell everything he owned to keep that smile there for eternity. If only you would’ve seen the lovestruck look JJ was giving you. There might as well’ve been hearts floating around his head. 

However, your eyes were too busy looking at the splash of springtime colours against the white backsplash of your bedding. You felt your smile grow into a grin at the gorgeous bouquet lying there, and your eyes finally moved back onto the tall blonde in front of you. 

“You got me flowers?” 

“Uh, y-yeah.” 

It was JJ’s turn to be bashful. He scratched his brow, trying to hide his now rosy cheeks as he turned around to grab the bouquet. He handed them to you carefully, and he could hear his heart thumping wildly as you stared down at them adoringly. 

“You got me flowers.”

“It’s not a big deal. Jus’ swung by your favourite shop after work.”

Jesus, had you always made him this nervous?

You cradled the flowers in one arm, and let your free hand grab his. You tugged at it, silently telling him to come closer. You looked up at him, eyes sparkling. 

“You got me flowers, J.” 

The act of getting flowers was out of the ordinary for him. It seemed so…romantic. That’s not to say that he hasn’t bore his heart to you, ‘cause he had, but this…this was different. 

At least, it felt different. 

“Look, I jus’ thought, y’know…a girl as special as you deserves flowers.”

Oh, if you could’ve kissed him, you would’ve done so until you both ran out of oxygen. Maybe even longer. Even if it meant that you’d perish because of it. 

But, you couldn’t, so you settled on pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah,” he breathed. Then, he cleared his throat when he realized he might’ve been staring at you too long. “So, what’s the fancy getup for?” 

“Oh, right,” you spoke. “My parents decided to pimp me out tomorrow night.” 

His eyes almost bulged out of his head. “I beg your finest pardon?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh. Between the look on his face and his tone, he was making it impossible not to. “They’re throwing some benefit here for the Cut tomorrow night, and Logan asked for me to be his date. You remember Logan, right?” 

You spun around, grabbing your empty vase off the dresser and heading back into your bathroom to fill it up. Meanwhile, JJ was stuck in place, his mind buffering. 

Date? Did he hear that right? 

When he came to, he was quick to follow you. “You— Wait— Huh?” 

“Logan Huntzberger? I told you that story about how we snuck onto that boat once with a bottle of champagne and got busted by the owners, remember?”

“That’s not the part I’m confused about, Y/N.” 

His tone was more icy than he intended, but he couldn’t help but feel something like rage boiling and brewing in his core. You didn’t seem to notice, though, and if you did, you didn’t show it. Instead, you unwrapped the bouquet cautiously and placed the flowers into the vase. You were about to pass him and the threshold back into your bedroom when his hard curled around your bicep. 

“You’re goin’ on a date?” 

You gave him a weird look. “He just wants to escort me to this thing tomorrow. And to be honest, there’s safety in numbers. My parents will be so focused on him that they’ll forget about me.”

His jaw clenched, and his eyes darted away from yours as he let go of you. “You coulda just asked me.”

A chuckle escaped your lips as you placed the full vase back where it belonged. “You hate kook shit like this.” 

“I woulda came for you. You didn’t need to say yes to some spoiled rich kid.” 

“I didn’t say yes to him. My mom and dad did,” you reminded him. You walked up to him, arms crossing your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling very open and vulnerable. “Why are you being like this? You know how they are.” 

“‘M not bein’ like anythin’,” he denied. He moved away from you, grabbing his bag off your bed. “I gotta go.” 

He didn’t know what he was doing. He just knew he had to get out of there before he exploded on you and ruined everything. How could you be going on a date with someone else when JJ was ready to tell you that he wanted you forever? 

You grabbed his arm this time around. “Don’t do that. Don’t walk away from me. Just talk to me.” 

JJ couldn’t stay. He felt sick. He felt like he wanted to strangle someone.

Okay, fine. Not just anyone. 

Logan. 

And maybe your dad, too.

“Have fun tomorrow, alright?” 

JJ made his second escape of the day much quicker than he had with his first, practically poofing into thin air right before your eyes. You wanted to chase after him, beg him to just let you in instead of running away from you, but you knew getting him to open up wasn’t that easy. He’d have to want to come to you. So you just stood there, watching the doorframe hoping he’d come back, and growing utterly disappointed when he didn’t. 

—

After the events at your home, JJ had decided to crash at John B’s. He thought being around him and the group would help take his mind off things, but all he could focus on was the void he felt without you beside him. 

That night he had been even worse. He tossed and turned restlessly all night, never the one to be able to sleep without you in his presence. He needed to hear your rhythmic breathing and feel your warmth as you curled into his side in your slumber. It’s like his mind was never at rest unless he was with you. 

The next day had dragged on, your date with Logan being the only thing on his mind from the minute he’d opened his eyes. He went to work, though he was clearly somewhere else mentally. He’d gotten scolded a few times, but he failed to remember why. Then, his bike broke down on the way back home, so he walked to Sarah’s house, hoping to catch a ride. He eventually made it, but was greeted by a party he had completely forgotten the group had planned. 

JJ had half a mind to turn back and just go home. All he wanted to do was slump into a chair on his porch, smoke a joint and try to forget about the shittiest day he’d had in a long while. But he was far too exhausted to make that trip, and why go all the way home when he could get shitfaced instead? It’d help him forget just the same. 

Right?

Wrong. 

As the intoxication began to take over him, so did the thoughts of you. 

Why did he walk away? Why didn’t he just open his mouth and say something? 

‘I love you. I’m in love with you, and you can’t be with anyone else because you should be with me.’ 

That’s all he had to say. 

And he blew it. 

The group groaned around him when he started to rant about you and your date again. He’d been rambling on and on, causing a few people in the circle to leave so they wouldn’t have to hear yet another string of complaints fall from his lips. 

“And it’s jus’ like, of course she’d ch-choose him,” he hiccupped into his red solo cup. “He’s like, rich ‘n loaded ‘n-n stacked.” 

Pope rolled his eyes. “Those all mean the same thing, J.” 

“Well, y’know what ‘m tryna say. He can give her everything. He could prolly buy her the planet. I could never do that.” 

Sarah watched her friend wallow in his drunken sorrows, and she felt saddened for him. She had always known how much JJ loved you. She could see it in his eyes the first time she saw you two together. He’d bleed himself dry for you, and there was never any question about it. 

“Okay,” she cooed, getting up from her seat and plucking his cup from his hand. “Think you’ve had enough, JJ. C’mon. Let’s get you to bed.”

JJ grumbled out a few protests, but Sarah ignored them, asking John B to help her lead JJ to the guest room of the chateau. They managed to get him tucked into bed, and when his eyes fluttered shut, they figured they were okay to leave. 

Unfortunately, not even a half hour later, JJ woke up. He was still way past intoxicated, but he stumbled into the kitchen in search of another bottle. He almost came up dry until he saw a bottle of whiskey less than a quarter full. He chugged down the remaining contents, and instantly made a hasty exit, his boots dragging against the pavement as he walked. 

Though he was drunk, his feet led him in a familiar direction. He knew where he longed to be, where he needed to be. 

He arrived at your house, clambering his way to your door and ignoring the nasty looks he’d gotten from your parents friends and colleagues. He pushed the door open, tripping over the threshold but managing to keep himself upright. He made his way through the house, and his mind quieted when his eyes finally landed on you. He was elated for all of five seconds because then he saw Logan’s hand find your waist. He pulled you closer to him, angling his head down slightly. 

Absolutely-fucking-not. 

“Hey! Keep your hands off my damn girl!” 

Your eyes, Logan’s, and countless other partygoers’ all shot over to JJ. He was stumbling and had almost taken out one of the serves as he made his way over to you. 

“J? What are you doing here?” 

JJ ignored your words and your hands on his chest as he pointed an accusatory finger at your date. “Don’t you fuckin’ touch her again.” 

“JJ, stop! You’re drunk!” You shout in a whisper, pushing him back a little now. 

“You don’t know her. You haven’t spent your whole life loving her and making sure she had someone. You aren’t there to remind her to eat when she gets stressed, ‘c-cause she always forgets. ‘N you aren’t there when she cries, ‘n your heart doesn’t break when she does. You’re nothin’.” 

More eyes were now on the three of you, and before you knew it, your parents were making their way over to you. 

“Enough, Maybank. Get out of this house before I throw you out,” your father snarled. 

“Dad, stop it!” 

“You,” JJ said, turning his attention to your parents. “You two are the worst of ‘em all. Throwin’ this bullshit party when you’re never even here. You care about the cut? You don’t even care about your damn daughter!” 

“JJ, enough! Let’s go!” You pleaded, trying to pull him. 

He freed his arm from your grasp. “No, Y/N/N, everyone needs to hear this. They need to know they’re supportin’ two people who think it’s fun to body shame their daughter and remind her time and time again that they couldn’t care less about her. They didn’t even go to your graduation, Y/N/N. You worked your ass off, ‘n they couldn’t even be bothered to send you a damn card! Never mind the last five birthdays of yours that they missed. They’re pieces of shit, ‘n all their friends should know it!” 

“You’re lucky I don’t call the cops!” 

“Go ‘head. Call ‘em. Call ‘em ‘n tell ‘em that you’re arresting me for defending your daughter.” 

“That’s it,” you mumbled to yourself. You grabbed JJ, pulling him hard this time. “Come with me, now.” 

JJ’s voice got quieter the further away you dragged him, but it was clear enough. “‘M not done with you, Y/F/N!” 

Luckily, Logan had come to your aid, helping you haul JJ up the stairs. It wasn’t an easy feat, as JJ had been swatting him away the entire way up. The two of you finally got him into your room, and you told Logan to rejoin the party. JJ sunk into your bed, and you tucked him under the sheets before handing him a water bottle. He pouted, not wanting to drink it, but relented when he saw the look on your face. 

“Are you mad?” 

You ignored his words, continuing to help him get settled. You were trying hard to bite your tongue because you knew that even if you scolded him, he most likely wouldn’t remember a single thing you said. That, and you could tell he was hurting. That’s the only reason he would’ve gotten this drunk. 

“Uh oh. You’re mad. ‘M soo in trouble.” 

“Tomorrow, JJ. Go to sleep.” 

His big blue eyes sulked at you, though they were a tad hazy, and he latched onto your hand after you smoothed some hair from his eyes. “‘M sorry. ‘M just sad.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a deep breath. “It’s okay, J. Now sleep.” 

He tapped his right cheek, silently asking you for a kiss there. You did as he requested, unable to refuse him, but not without an eye roll. Then he repeated his taps on his other cheek. You kissed him there too. The cycle continued with his forehead, and then his nose. When you were done, he tried his luck, tapping his puckered lips. 

To that, you laughed softly. “Nice try, Maybank.”

— 

If you could pay someone to pluck the memories of the previous night from your brain, you’d fork over all the cash you could muster. JJ’s behaviour, your embarrassment, apologizing to Logan profusely…. 

Yeah. 

You’d erase all of it. 

Mad and anxious as you were, though, you couldn’t stop thinking about how your ‘date’ had only made things more abundantly clear; you would forever be in love with JJ. 

All night long, you knew Logan was trying to charm you. He was the perfect gentleman. He helped you down the stairs in your heels, guided you through the crowd, and got your drinks for you. Talked to you about your interests and actually, genuinely cared about what you had to say. But with every touch of his, all you could feel was the ghost of JJ’s and the trails of fire he’d left behind every time his skin brushed against yours. Could smell his familiar scent of weed, sea salt and some high-end cologne he’d snatched from a party on Figure 8, in place of the cologne that Logan had spritzed on himself. And when Logan tried to kiss you, you couldn’t even think about it. Because the truth was, you knew it would never compare to the sliver of heaven you’d ascended to when JJ’s mouth was on yours.  

Your mind moved over to the boy you’d tucked into your bed last night, and a pang of worry hit you. Yes, you were still mad, at least partly, but you couldn’t focus on that. All you could focus on was your concern for him. 

What was he battling? And why did he feel as if he couldn’t approach you about it? Didn’t he know by now that you’d stand by him through anything? 

Didn’t he know by now that he wasn’t alone? 

A loud clang in the kitchen caught your attention, and you decided to head down to investigate. You were also in desperate need of a cup of coffee. 

You hadn’t expected to find JJ moving around your kitchen less-than-expertly during what would probably go down as the worst hangover known to man, but the sight that greeted you was nothing but endearing. 

There he was, your best friend, surrounded by a chaotic array of ingredients and bowls and utensils. Flour dusted the tips of his blonde (now white) strands, there was a smear of what you assumed was batter across the apple of his cheek, and his clothes looked even worse off than his face. 

Still, his tongue was poked out adorably while he concentrated on the soon-to-be-cooked ingredients in front of him. 

“J?” You chuckled softly, unable to suppress your smile at the sight before you. 

JJ’s eyes flit up to yours abruptly, a worried and panicked look spreading across his face. You could see the dark circles, and his voice was slightly hoarse when he spoke. 

“Shit! You’re supposed to be in bed!” He rushed over to you, hands finding your shoulders with ease and trying to urge you to spin back around. “You gotta go back up.” 

Your amusement was clear on your face as you looked around at the mess. “I don’t think that’s wise, J.” 

JJ scratched the back of his neck, huffing frustratedly. His eyes weren’t as bright as usual, noticeably clouded by shame. “I jus’ wanted to apologize for last night. I thought makin’ breakfast would maybe help me get back on your good side.” 

Your heart softened at his sincerity, your annoyance from the previous night now dissipating at his intentions. “You’re always on my good side. I just wish you’d talk to me about what’s going on instead of completely dodging me and getting blackout drunk just ‘cause you’re avoiding things.” 

You’d always known him so well. Most times, you knew him better than himself. That being said, JJ should’ve known that you’d figure him out the minute he showed up at your house. He messed up terribly. He knew he embarrassed you, he knew he might’ve ruined the party and angered your parents beyond belief. But right now, he knew that even after all those things, they’d never stop you from worrying for him and making sure he was good on all fronts. 

He definitely didn’t deserve you, but at that moment, he decided; he was going to keep you anyway. 

“You’re way too good for me.” JJ’s flour-dusted hand cupped your cheek, and he looked down at you with all the love he could muster up, and then some. “You’re way too good for me, and I fell in love with you anyway.”

Your heart skipped a beat as his words hung in the air, and you blinked, momentarily taken aback by the confession you’d spent nearly your entire life yearning for, yet never expected to hear. 

“You’re…you’re in love with me?” You repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes searched his, and now, they were as clear and sincere as ever. 

JJ nodded earnestly. “After that night, when I showed up with those flowers…I was gonna tell you. ‘N then you told me about your date with Logan ‘n I jus’ freaked ‘cause I could feel myself losin’ you to this, like, superior guy who could give you everythin’ I couldn’t.” 

“J…” you trailed off sadly in a whisper. 

“It’s always been us, y’know? Two peas in a shitty-parents-pod. But even on my worst days with Luke…it never mattered, ‘cause I had you. ‘N when I thought about you leavin’ me…Y/N/N, I couldn’t even stomach it. Then I kinda went off the deep end.”

You grabbed his hands with urgency. “I could never leave you, J. Never.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you confirmed with a soft voice. “I love you too much.” 

JJ’s gaze searched yours, his eyes mixed with hope and trepidation. “For real?”

“Yes, for real, dummy. I love you. I’ve always loved you.” A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and your heart pounded in your chest at your confession. But this time, it wasn’t with nerves or fear, it was one hundred percent, wholeheartedly with love. 

“So, does that mean I can finally kiss you again?” 

Even at his most vulnerable, this cheeky boy could still whip out a boyish smirk on command. This only prompted you to toy with him a little, just to get back at him. 

“And what makes you think I’m gonna kiss you, Maybank?” 

His hands surged toward your hips, and he pulled you impossibly closer while licking his lips. “I know you, remember? ‘N after the other night, I know what you look like when you want to.” 

Damn, he was good. 

Your arms looped around the back of his neck, and you threw him a daring look. “So do it.” 

He didn’t have to be told twice. His lips found yours, and you stood there for some time, just drowning each other without anything holding you back this time. Things couldn’t have been more perfect. 

He couldn’t have been more perfect.

Just like that, the two of you were home. And you’d never dare to leave. 

© MOREMAYBANK, 2024

[i-love-ptv]

i’m sobbing hysterically

Charles with Mimi's brother 😭❤️

[i-love-ptv]

i’m moaning

No words.

[i-love-ptv]

THIS IS NOT A DRILL GUYS ❗️❗️❗️ NEW PART 🥲🫶🏽

HEARTBREAK SYNDROME.

episode fourteen :: HEAR ME OUT.

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴various, lewis hamilton x y/n

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au / irl snippets

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔girl you will not believe who texted y/n

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ face claim ﹔ wonyoung jang (28)

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕ excessive cussing, none.

y/n: i’m sorry who is this?

xxx-xxx: it’s kelly

y/n: ?

y/n: kelly piquet?

xxx-xxx: unfortunately

xxx-xxx: its an emergency.

xxx-xxx: and girl to girl, we NEED to talk.

y/n: OH?

xxx-xxx: i need to see you.

xxx-xxx: will u be at the qatar gp?

y/n: yes!! we can talk there, but is it urgent?

xxx-xxx: i know what you’ve seen from me gives u every reason under the sun to not even want to breath the same air as me but this is for your safety.

y/n: i got you.

y/n: see you tomorrow.

☆ IMESSAGE with ; BOARD OF DIRECTORS.

y/n: if you’re available for gossip irl raise ur hand

angel carmen: no bc what where you doing with that demon i thought you knew better

princess george: explain pls 😐

chal eclair: hurry up and explain bae, alex is spamming me and she’s fuming 😍

y/n: she’s spamming me too 😭

wifey lily: the girls gc is going OFFFFF

girlfriend kika: for good fucking reason

girlfriend kika: fucking explain yourself y/n

PIERRE GASLYYYY: kika’s so mad i think she might explode 😭

alabono: lily too 😭

chili!: well good thing none of them are here bc y/n would gotten assaulted

angel carmen: yeah

babygirl alex: exactly

girlfriend kika: what carlos said

wifey lily: hm.

y/n: 😟

y/n: meeting in george’s drivers room?

my baby lando: on my way !!!!

chal eclair: we all are

︴# ⸝⸝ : ★ real life ¡ ⌕ ⸝⸝ ﹒ ﹕

“everyone here?” y/n asks as everyone tried to cram in between two chairs and a sofa. “yep” carlos squeaks with charles and lando on top of him on a lazy chair, “yeah, mate” george says, him, alex, and pierre on the sofa while daniel and yuki shared the second chair.

“girls?” y/n looks at her laptop. kika, carmen, alexandra and lily were on a zoom call. “all here” kika gave a thumbs up as y/n sat in the middle of the floor. “girl.” y/n says, “oh, this is gonna be good” lando giggles, “so kelly originally texted me the day champagne, sex and anxiety dropped and i didn’t recognise the number” y/n began.

“i thought she was someone else because the number was unknown but then she was like ‘girl to girl we need to talk’, so i was a bit like, oh?, y’know?” y/n says as she passes her phone to the boys so they can read the messages.

“and when we met earlier, she was like-”

“sorry, did i miss anything?” lewis rushed into the room, seemingly a bit out of breath. “no, it was just about to begin” carmen’s slightly distorted voice says. lewis not so subtly checks y/n out, licking his lips, pierre and daniel give each other a knowing look with charles and lando give y/n a little smirk and she mouths ‘shut up’.

“is that a chair?” george chuckles, lewis placed a chair he had brought with him next to the sofa and shrugged, “well, i knew there wouldn’t be space here” lewis said as he set the chair down. he was about to sit when he notice y/n was on the floor, “wait, you come sit on it” lewis tells y/n.

“no, no, it’s okay” y/n smiles, “doll, i don’t want you sitting on the floor, it’s cold” lewis shakes his head. the rest of the drivers all quietly giggle and nudge each other as the girls text each other something about how lewis was calling you ‘doll’ in front of everyone.

“well it’s here if you need it” lewis says as he sits on the chair.

“guys, hold on, so, what did kelly say?” alex asks.

“yeah, she was like ‘i got your number from max’ phone, sorry to contact you on your personal number, blah blah blah, how was your day?’ all that, but that doesn’t matter” y/n continued, “bro, she’s breaking up with max”

charles gasps, “no, she’s not!”

“did he cheat on her too?” george asks

“here we go again” yuki chuckles.

so many questions were being asked all at once, “boys, shut up so we can understand!” kika exclaimed and the boys quickly settled down again. “they’re breaking up because of me” y/n added and the noise began once more.

“she better not be blaming that on you” lando rolled his eyes.

“what do you mean because of you? you didn’t do anything” carlos frowned.

“i just know he cheated on her” yuki laughs.

“oh my god, all of you shut up!” lily exclaims.

“no, no, wait, max has been, allegedly, loosing his mind. kelly said that ever since they announced their relationship, hes been obsessing over me. to an almost dangerous level” y/n begins again. “define obsessing” george says.

“kelly said that when heartbreak syndrome came out, he was hyper fixated on the songs. he would analyse each song, line by line to figure out which line are about him.” y/n explain. yuki’s eyes widened while charles, lewis and lando physically recoiled. “he also tried to send me a cease and desist because some of the songs were ‘too specific’” she added.

“and also-”

“no, hold on, can we talk about this? because my body had a visceral reaction” lando interrupted with a dramatic hand on his chest. “yeah, that’s a bit much” lewis nodded, pierre muttered something into his hands while carlos looked just befuddled.

“wait, y/n, there’s more? you said also?” carmen frowned. “yeah, so, remember when kelly used to copy me on social media, girl, hold on” y/n got up and began pacing around the room, “apparently, max was forcing her to copy me so she looked like the crazy obsessed one” y/n said, “shut up, no he did not!” pierre said, “girl, yes he did! because he was stalking my accounts with her account” she added.

“what the fuck?” carlos asked and daniel had a frightened look on his face. everyone in the room had shocked looks on their face as they stared at each other. all those months of what seemed like kelly copying and shading y/n was all of max’s doing. “she also said that when i signed with mercedes, he like, lost it.”

“lost it? or lost it?” kika asked, “lost it.” y/n answered. “he was up there breaking things, screaming, crying, just loosing his mind” y/n explained. “heh, he just like me for real” lando chuckled, then everyone glared at him. “i’m so funny” he added.

“did she mention the billboards thing?” daniel asked. y/n nodded as she stood next to lewis, placing a hand over his shoulder. lewis, almost subconsciously, wrapped his arm around y/n’s waist. charles and george smirked at y/n and she gave them a look that said ‘I will throw my shoe at you’. “kelly overheard max literally orchestrating the whole thing on a phone call with the red bull employees, and not only were they going to burn billboards, they wanted to burn the merch stands and my signing booth.”

“okay, what the fuck?” carlos asks again as the girls gasp. “oh? oh, he was serious serious” charles says as he half covered his mouth in shock. “what do you mean the signing booth? you could’ve gotten hurt.” lewis tightened his grip on y/n, as he says with a frown making daniel and alex nod in agreement. “yeah! that could’ve gone really fucking bad” yuki crosses his arms over his chest.

“I wanna say something crazy” y/n began.

“yeah, let’s not…” carmen said, “let��s use our critical thinking, maybe, just maybe, we shouldn’t do crazy things!” alexandra sarcastically giggled, “max was doing crazy things and look where that got him” she added. “depends on what the crazy something is” daniel said, “hey! don’t enable her!” kika scolded him making him raise his hands, “i’m just saying that if-”

“I want to talk to max.” y/n said, and everyone went quiet.

“what?” alex, george and carlos asked in unison, looking confused. “really?” charles asked as him, lando and pierre looked grossed out. “woooooow” yuki deadpanned, him and daniel were visibly upset. alexandra and carmen sighed in disappointment and lewis.. looked angry.

“you’re not seeing him” lewis said.

“but–”

“no you-” lewis inhaled deeply before continuing, “doll, he could’ve hurt you. you heard what his girlfriend said.” he said as he stroked her waist. charles and lando smirked at her, “what did I just say?! critical thinking skills!” alexandra frowned.

“y/n, babe, i don’t have the patience.” lily said with a huge fake smile, y/n put her hands up defensively; “but i have a plan, okay, here me out.” she says.

“okay, let her cook-” lando began, only to be swiftly cut off by george, “no! she’s done cooking for today. banned from the kitchen.”

“guys, oh my god, please.” y/n whined, “i just wanna ask him about some things!” she added. yuki sat up, “i’ve been saying, let me speak to him for months but no one is letting me near him.” he crossed his arms over his chest. “you’re gonna stab him, bro, no!” pierre half chuckled, “…fair.” yuki grumbled.

“there is nothing, nothing, that you and that sloth can talk about.” carlos began, “not a single thing.” he added. “but!” lando clapped, “okay.. devil’s advocate-”

“shut the fuck up.” the girls cut him off, and he placed the dramatic hand back on his chest.

“y/n” lewis said with a soft smile as he pulled her on his lap. george and alex elbowed each other while charles, lando and carlos tried their best (worst) to keep their giggles down, and yuki and pierre took photos to send to kika later.

y/n’s heart beat a bit faster and she founded herself at a loss for words, “you’re not safe around him. if there’s something you want to ask him, ask his girlfriend to communicate it to him. there’s no reason for you to break no contact after all he did. he’s disrespected you and your name in public, has stalked you, damaged private property with your face on it, do i need to keep going?” lewis asked.

y/n shook her head, “n-no, you d-don’t” she quietly answered.

“so what are you gonna do?” lewis asked, “not talk to max… privately.” she answered, he was nodding along, then he stopped. “you… what?”

“y/n, i will leap through this screen and stab you” alexandra threatened. “can we hear here out?” lando asked, “no!” the girls jumped at him again, the dramatic hand returned for a third time, “you’re just gonna let them yell at me like that?” he whined

“maybe you should hear me out!” y/n said, and there was a loud, collective of disappointment and annoyance. “and, yes, they’re your aunts, im your mother.” she answered lando.

“listen, next grand prix, all of you can be there, i just wanna ask him about the bullshit that he’s been doing.” she explained.

everyone looked at each other then at y/n, “really?” charles asked, “please?” y/n begged. “i’m in! sounds messy” lando giggled. kika chuckled, “no wonder you’re a PR nightmare.”

[i-love-ptv]

we don’t talk enough about this.

[i-love-ptv]

jj maybank mood board 🏄‍♂️🌴🌊

@obxfrathouse for jj 😊