#I THINK I SAID BEFORE ILL STILL BE HERE ON OCCASION | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dungeefox · 3 days ago

Text

Forced Favor — J.W.W

Two completely different people settling in an arranged marriage to fulfil their father's wishes. Except, what if they end up becoming fluent in choosing one another more than they planned to?

pairing: wonwoo x oc

genre: arranged marriage, friends-ish to lovers, enemies-ish to lovers

warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, pool sex, unprotected sex, cumshot, cursing, dirty talk, big dick!wonwoo, fingering (f receiving)

wc: 14,710

a/n: comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated! 🥹

The day after your parents finalized their divorce, your mother left, taking your sister with her while you stayed behind with your father. You recall the tears streaming down your face as you pleaded with her not to go. Despite her obvious favouritism toward your sister, having her in your life feels far better than enduring the indifference of a father who seems uninterested in you.

Your father never desired to have children, viewing them as a burden. This likely explains why, as soon as your mother left, he sent you away and has largely remained distant since. You were just fourteen at the time, and adjusting to life on your own was far from easy. Many nights were spent feeling lonely, frightened, and longing for home, wishing for someone to reach out to, but there was no one available. It's not that you didn't make an effort to connect with your parents and sister; you did, and quite desperately, to be honest. You attempted to call several times, but they never answered. You even wrote letters detailing how you were doing, sharing your academic successes, and almost pleading for their pride. You hoped that one day they might want you back, but after six long years, that day still feels out of reach.

Until yesterday.

It felt surreal when you got a call from your father informing you that he had arranged a flight for you to return home. He only said, "Mr. and Mrs. Jeon have invited us for dinner," and you didn’t probe further about the occasion. You were simply filled with joy at the thought of being reunited with your father once more.

𓂃۶ৎ

"Do you know why you're here?" Wonwoo inquires as he guides you along the stone path in his backyard. You both have just stepped out of the dining room because he wished to have a private conversation with you.

You respond with a slight shrug of your shoulders. "Why?"

He halts next to a wooden bench, leaning forward to wipe the dust off its surface. "Here, sit."

You glance at him, hesitating for a moment before finally sitting down. "What is this about?"

He takes a position beside you, adjusting slightly so that he faces you. "Our parents want us to get married."

M-married?

You're uncertain if you're hearing him correctly. For a moment, you can only gaze at him, your lips attempting to form a word, yet nothing escapes. Eventually, you manage a quiet "What?"

"I understand," he replies. "That's quite a lot to take in. Feel free to take your time."

"Take my time?" You laugh, not out of humor, but because it seems absurd. "I don’t need time to process this. You must be out of your mind if you think I'm going to marry you."

"Well, tell that to our parents—they set this whole shit up."

You narrow your gaze suspiciously. Somehow you have a feeling that this is one of his stupid pranks. Not that it's new to you. He does it all the time. The asshole acts like it's his job sometimes.

“I swear to God if this is one of your-” Wonwoo lifts a finger up, cutting your speech short. "I know what you're about to say. But no, it's not a prank. I'm serious."

"So you're telling me you actually agreed to this arrangement?" you inquire, raising your eyebrows in disbelief.

"No, not really. But I'm doing this for my father. I’m sure you’ve heard about it."

Yes, your dad mentioned Mr. Jeon's declining health during the drive from the airport. Currently, he is overseas receiving treatment for his illness. A wave of sympathy washes over you for Wonwoo, yet it doesn't sway your decision.

"I'm truly sorry about your father, Wonwoo. I really am. But marrying me won’t cure his illness."

"I understand that," he replies, letting out a heavy sigh. "He just wants to see me settled down before... you know."

"Settled down with... me?"

Wonwoo gives a nod. "You know how much my parents adore you. They've been trying to set us up since we were teens."

"But he can't force you to marry someone you don't want to. Do you honestly think you can spend your life tied to someone you don’t love? You can’t even commit to a relationship.”

He shrugs casually. "I don't mind if it's you I'm marrying.” You huff, not believing him. "You don't even like me.”

You and Wonwoo have been childhood friends, having grown up as neighbors. However, your personalities clash like oil and water—completely incompatible. He is the only person who truly knows how to irritate you. It’s not that you dislike him, nor does he qualify as your enemy. You must admit, he can be quite charming at times, especially when he isn’t saying or doing something foolish that gets on your nerves. This happens only once in a blue moon, by the way. Sometimes, it's hard to believe he is twenty-eight while you are just twenty-one; it feels like it should be the other way around.

“I never said I don't like you," Wonwoo denies. "I actually do. I think you… uh…"

“I'm what?" You probe, lifting your brows.

"I think you've got nice teeth," He says.

“What? Teeth?!"

“Yeah. Teeth. They look especially nice when you smile. Which you don't do often by the way.”

Is this a joke? You thought as you gave him the eye-roll.

"Look, you may not be someone who takes matters like marriage seriously, but I do. I can't sacrifice myself to spend the rest of my life with you just to please your father. And if I ever plan to marry, it would be to someone I love."

He exhales and nods. "Alright, I respect your decision.”

You rise from the bench and gaze down at him. "Can we get back inside now?"

"Sure."

𓂃۶ৎ

Upon returning to the dining room, you find the table cleared and everyone gone. You look over at the man beside you, who appears just as puzzled. He steps out of the dining room, and you follow him into the living hall, only to discover it is also empty.

"Where is everyone?" you inquire.

“Your father has left," replies Wonwoo's mother as she descends the staircase.

"What? Why?" you ask, a sense of unease creeping in. "Did he mention anything?"

“We were talking about you and thought it would be wonderful for you to stay here with Wonwoo for maybe three weeks or more, giving you time to consider the arrangement."

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "What do you mean?”

“I trust Wonwoo has filled you in on this, right?" She glances at her son.

"Yes, but—" You look at Wonwoo, silently questioning, “Are you part of this too?” He responds with a clueless shrug.

"Think of it as a trial period," she continues. "It's just an opportunity for you to see if you like Wonwoo enough to marry him." She pauses, smiling as she takes your hand. "You don't have to feel pressured to say yes, but Mr. Jeon and I would be thrilled to have you as our daughter-in-law."

There's so much information to absorb, and it’s all happening so fast. Your mouth opens and closes, struggling to find the right words, but nothing comes.

“Oh, and your father mentioned he’ll be out of town for a few weeks," Mrs. Jeon adds.

“Wait, what?” Panic seizes your heart as you look around, searching for your purse. Spotting it on one of the sofas, you rush over to grab your phone. A message from your father catches your eye. Holding your breath, you tap on the notification to read it.

“Sorry, I have to leave early to catch a flight to China. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon have kindly offered for you to stay at their place for now. Hopefully, you can decide by the end of your stay there. I genuinely hope you'll say yes. This is everything I could have wished for you: to marry someone wonderful, someone of high status like Wonwoo. You'll make me so proud. Plus, Mr. Jeon has been a big help to our family; we owe him a lot.”

The words slowly sink in. It feels as though the world is spinning around you, and you’re on the verge of fainting. You sway slightly on your feet, but suddenly Wonwoo is beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist for support.

“You okay?" he whispers, gazing down at you. You nod slowly, feeling his proximity make you blush, and you quickly look away.

“Aw, look at you two, such a perfect match,” his mother coos, clasping her hands together, her expression dreamy as if she's watching a romantic movie.

You clear your throat, straightening up to create some distance between you and Wonwoo. He interprets this as a signal to release you, but his eyes remain fixed on you as if he fears you might collapse if he looks away.

"I'm feeling a bit exhausted from the jet lag," you tell his mother. "Would it be alright if I head up to my room first?"

“Oh dear, of course! You must be so tired." She glances at Wonwoo. "Can you show her to her room?"

"Which one?" he asks. “Any bedroom upstairs," she replies, adding with a playful tone, "Just try to avoid the haunted one."

Your eyes widen as you switch gazes between Wonwoo and his mother. "H-haunted?" Wonwoo laughs softly, placing a reassuring hand on your lower back. "Let’s go," he says, guiding you up the staircase.

"What did she mean by 'haunted'?" you inquire, looking up at him as you ascend.

"The previous owner tragically took their own life in one of the bedrooms upstairs."

"Oh, fantastic," you mutter quietly to yourself.

As you reach the second floor, the atmosphere feels less grand than below. A narrow hallway stretches out, with three rooms on each side. The lighting is dim, and rustic paintings adorn the walls. You notice your small suitcase waiting by the door at the far end of the corridor. That must be your room.

"Which one is the haunted one?" you whisper cautiously to Wonwoo as he leads you down the hall. He gestures toward the door directly across from yours, sending a shiver down your spine. Wonwoo opens the door to your room, and you step inside, pulling your suitcase along as he flicks the light on.

“Let me know if you need anything," He says.

"Wonwoo, wait," You turn around, feeling more nervous now that he's leaving the door nearly closed, but it flew open again.

"What?" He says, standing at the doorway, his hand holding onto the door jamb.

"Where will you be sleeping?" He nods towards the room next door.

"Oh," That's a relief. "Okay. Goodnight.'

A little frown forms on his forehead as he stands there, studying your face. "Will you be okay?’

"You mean will I be okay staying across a haunted room? or will I be okay staying with you for the next three weeks?"

"Both."

"No and no," You reply sharply. "can't even stand being in the same room with you for a minute, let alone living together.” You didn't know what got into you, but you certainly didn't mean to say that.

Wonwoo takes a sharp breath, as if he's fighting the impulse to snap back at you. "Do you want me to send you home? You don’t have to stay here if you’d rather not."

You want to respond that you don’t really have a home, but that would only prompt him to ask why. You're too worn out for that kind of inquiry.

“Never mind," You reply, turning away from him. "Just leave me alone.”

"I swear you are so fucking confusing sometimes," He murmurs under his breath.

“Me? Confusing?" You turned sharply to glare at him. "This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t agreed to this ridiculous arrangement. You brought me into this! It’s entirely your fault!"

The door swings open as Wonwoo steps inside. "If you're so against it, you should've told my mother no just now. It's really that simple!" he countered. "Why didn’t you speak up?"

"Because—" You pause, your lips moving as if searching for words. "I just can’t, alright?"

His brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean you can't?"

With a resigned sigh, you finally confess, "My dad wants me to stay here, and he believes I should marry you."

“Why didn’t you let him know that you’re not interested? You had no trouble rejecting me earlier,” he remarks with a sneer.

“You don’t get it,” you reply. “My relationship with my dad is incredibly strained. If I say no, he’ll be so disappointed. I don’t want to jeopardize the little connection we have left by letting him down.”

He gazes at you, pausing for a moment to let your words resonate. "So, you're really considering marrying me?"

"I honestly don't know, Wonwoo," you respond with a heavy sigh. "I'm just too tired to think right now. All I need is some sleep." He nods in understanding. "Okay, I'll see you in the morning."

"I'm sorry for raising my voice at you," you mumble as the door is about to close. He turns to you, a small smile appearing on his face. "It's alright, I actually missed it."

You raise an eyebrow at him. "You missed being yelled at by me?"

"Yeah," he confesses. "But I miss you even more." His sincerity almost makes you believe him. Then, you remember that this is Wonwoo – the guy who speaks his mind without a filter. You can't take his words too seriously.

"Goodnight, Wonwoo," you reply simply.

"Aren't you going to say it back?" he asks, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Nope," you say, turning away from him.

"Fine. Just don't come looking for me when the demon creature haunts you tonight."

You whip your head around to face him. "There's a demon creature?!"

Instead of answering, he turns away and slams the door in your face like a first-class asshole that he is, leaving you all alone in that room.

𓂃۶ৎ

You spent the previous night brooding over how awful this entire situation is. However, by morning, you’ve come to terms with the fact that you’ll be here for the next three weeks. After all, it’s summer break, and there’s nothing you can do or anywhere to go. Your options are either to stay with Wonwoo or be completely alone in your apartment overseas. You decide that the former sounds more appealing because, despite how annoying Wonwoo can be at times, he is still your friend and some company would be nice.

Regarding the marriage arrangement, as absurd as it may seem, you might actually think about giving it a chance.

Might. Think.

If you were to agree, it would be for your Dad, not for Wonwoo. Perhaps it’s the message he sent that resonates with your willingness to sacrifice. The part of you that is eager to make him proud and gain his approval. Maybe this could help mend your relationship with your Dad. All you can do is hope.

𓂃۶ৎ

Deciding it’s futile to keep brooding, you rise from bed and slip into your cozy robe before stepping out of the room. In the daylight, the hallway feels less menacing than it did last night. Yet, the thought of a haunted room still sends shivers down your spine.

You finally reach Wonwoo's door and knock gently. There’s no response. After a few more attempts, you choose to enter, as silence persists. The door opens just enough for you to peek inside. A glance at the bed reveals that Wonwoo is absent, but the sound of the shower fills the air.

Your gaze wanders around the room. A large display shelf occupies one wall, overflowing with train sets and famous landmarks crafted from Lego. A smile crosses your face. You've always known about his childhood fascination, but you never expected it to endure into adulthood. The grown-up Wonwoo seems more like someone who engages with women rather than toys. Perhaps you don’t know him as well as you thought.

Then something else captures your attention. Scattered across the floor near the shelves lies a massive Lego set that’s only partially assembled. It appears he’s constructing the Tower Bridge. Curious, you find yourself stepping into the room, leaving the door ajar behind you. You tread carefully to avoid disturbing the scattered bricks and pieces as you move further in.

Has anyone ever tried stepping on this thing? Hurt shitless just so you know. You bend your knees and squat down to get a clearer look of the miniatures. Everything looks so wee and cute. You smile at a tiny replica of a London bus and pick it up. As you're inspecting it, the bathroom door behind cracks open. You slowly bring your head around and you gape and freeze on the spot, the bricks slipping out of your grasp, free-falling to the ground.

Standing at the threshold of the bathroom is Wonwoo. Wearing nothing from head to toe. And he is staring at you, eyes wide open, looking more dumbfounded than ever.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He yells from where he stands.

"I'm so sorry!" You quickly turn your head and spring to your feet, ready to escape the situation. However, as you take your first step, a sudden, piercing pain shoots through the back of your foot, causing you to stumble. You prefer to avoid the f-word unless absolutely necessary, but…

“FUCKING HELL!” Everything falls apart. In that brief moment, you can nearly witness your life flash before you. They say this occurs just before death, but the truth is, you’re still very much alive. But you're pretty sure it feels all the fucking same when your ass landed on these tiny little bricks on the floor.

"Oh shit! Are you okay?" You lift your head and gasp at the sight of him striding towards you. All naked. His, whatever it is, swinging freely. Don't look at it, don't look! Instead, you find yourself staring in disbelief. No matter how hard you try, you simply can't erase that image from your mind. Maybe it is a testament to how lonely or horny you are. You might have been experiencing a dry spell for quite some time, or perhaps you've never encountered something so large and thick in person before. All of a sudden you're wishing this is porn so you could just get on your knees and suck him off into oblivion.

Wonwoo clears his throat, and the sound cuts through your wandering thoughts. You snap back to reality, looking up to see him standing tall above you.

“I'm so sorry!" You scream as you swiftly cover your eyes with your palm to block your sight. Using your other hand, you push yourself up to stand and quickly pivot to scurry away. Your ass is on fire but you don't even care anymore. All you need is to get out of there.

𓂃۶ৎ

Following that awkward moment in Wonwoo's room this morning, you now find yourselves having breakfast in complete silence. Mrs. Jeon has left the country to be with her husband, leaving just you and Wonwoo in the house, along with the housemaids—who mostly remain invisible unless needed. The dining room is eerily quiet, with only the sound of spoons clinking against plates breaking the stillness. You're making a concerted effort to avoid eye contact with Wonwoo, but every time you steal a glance, you catch him already staring, which sends your mind racing and makes you blush uncontrollably.

Wonwoo, on the other hand, is revelling in this tension. The smug grin on his face says it all, and his gaze is fixed on you, never wavering. He delights in teasing you like this, especially when you turn all shy and red as you are now. As soon as breakfast is finished, you hurriedly retreat to your room.

The remainder of the afternoon is spent in bed, absorbed in your e-reader, diving into the latest fantasy romance you just bought. For a little while, you allow yourself to escape into someone else's world, a refreshing break from your reality. It feels liberating, providing temporary relief from your worries.

Finally, you venture out of your room, driven by thirst. After a quick shower, you slip into a maroon sweater that drapes over one shoulder, paired with black leggings. The clock nears seven o'clock, and the hallway is starting to darken. Suddenly reminded of the possibility of encountering a demon lurking nearby, you quicken your steps toward the staircase.

At that moment, you encounter Wonwoo. He’s making his way up the final flight of stairs just as you’re about to head down. You freeze in place, captivated by the sight before you. He remains oblivious to your presence, absorbed in his phone. It appears he has just come from a swim; his hair is damp, and he wears a grey bathrobe. The belt is tied securely, yet the V neckline reveals his bare chest.

You feel a flutter in your lower abdomen as you continue to gaze at him. This man possesses impressively broad shoulders, the kind that makes you feel petite, especially with water droplets glistening on his skin, he's looking even more lickable than usual. What are you talking about?! You shake your head, pushing that thought far, far away. You can't help but feel that the unexpected encounter this morning truly affected you deeply.

"Oh, hey," Wonwoo offers a greeting as he arrives at the top of the stairs, shifting his focus from his phone to you. You respond with a gentle hum and continue to walk past him. He tsks and reaches out to grab your arm, pulling you back.

“How long are you planning to ignore me?" He asks, sounding gruff.

“I'm not ignoring you," You deny. "I was just going to head downstairs to get something to drink."

"Then explain why you're hiding in your room doing who knows what for the whole fucking day? Is that what you're planning to do for the rest of your stay here?" He asks.

"No," You respond softly. Wonwoo gazes at your face as if he's trying to uncover a hidden answer. "Is it because of what happened this morning? You walking in on me naked?" He surmises.

Yes and yes.

You feel your cheek growing hot, and Wonwoo notices. "Come on, it's just a dick. Pretty sure you've seen one before," He teases.

“That's not just a dick, that's-" The words trail away and you press your lips together to stop yourself. A slow smirk pulls at his lips. "What?" he asks. That's one hell of a dick, you say internally, refusing to voice it out. The man doesn't need an extra boost to his ego. Instead, you raise your chin and say, "What do you want from me?"

"Listen," he says, shifting back to a serious tone. "The reason we’re both trapped here is because we need to be. I’m doing this for my father, and you’re here because you don’t want to disappoint yours. The decision to marry me is yours, and you have three weeks to think it over. But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves while you’re here."

He’s right. You can’t spend the next twenty-eight days holed up in your room with your nose buried in a book.

"What do you propose we do then?" you inquire.

"I have a game in mind that I think we should play," he suggests.

“Game?” you inquire, tilting your head in curiosity.

“Absolutely. This game will help us reconnect.”

“We already know each other, Wonwoo," you reply. "We were friends, remember?”

“That was six years ago. People change,” he states matter-of-factly.

That's true. “Alright, how do we play?”

“I’m sure you’re familiar with this game: Truth or Dare. You choose one of the two. If you select truth, I’ll ask you a question that you must answer honestly—no lies or dodging. If you refuse to answer, you’ll have to complete a dare. Each person gets three turns a day. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“I’ll go first,” he begins. “So, truth or dare?”

You take a moment to reflect. Opting for a dare feels like too much of a gamble. Wonwoo can be quite the trickster at times. What if he challenges you to do something outrageous, like a lap dance or something equally embarrassing?

"Truth," you finally decide.

"Are you currently seeing anyone?" he inquires.

"No." A look of relief washes over his face as he smiles. "Now it's your turn."

"Truth or Dare?" you ask, secretly hoping he will choose the latter. You feel a strong urge to dare him to lick your toes or wash your feet, just to annoy him.

“Truth,” he responds instead.

“Ugh,” you groan. Honestly, you can't come up with anything clever to ask right now, so you settle on, "What's your hobby?" He rolls his eyes. "Boring."

"Just answer the question, Wonwoo," you say impatiently, eager to wrap this up and escape from him. "So, what's your hobby?" you ask once more.

"Sex. I love sex. If that's a hobby."

"Why am I even surprised?" you murmur to yourself, your tone quite flat.

"My turn now," he continues. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"I'm just curious..." He pauses for a brief moment. "Are you a virgin?"

You stare directly into his eyes. It's not that you are a virgin, but it's also not his place to ask. "Why do you want to know?" you respond.

He shrugs casually. "Just for future reference."

"What does that even mean?"

"Come on, do you really think nothing will happen between us over the next three weeks?"

How bold of him! "I'm not going to sleep with you if that's what you're implying."

"Ouch." He clutches his chest, feigning injury. "I thought you'd be interested after catching a glimpse of my human sausage."

"You did not just say human sausage." You press your lips together, trying to suppress laughter.

"What should I call it then?" He raises his brows. "Mushroom head? Semen maker? Corn Dog?”

"Please, stop," You say through your pressed lips. He grins. "What about cum factory? Sounds good?" That's all there is to it. You let out a hearty laugh that is quite unbecoming, resembling a pig's snort so closely that you must turn away to conceal your face.

"Do you want me to continue, babe?" He teases. "I can go on all night." You shake your head jerkily. "No! no more dick talk, please." It takes a moment for you to regain your composure. Taking a deep breath, you turn back to face him. Wonwoo chuckles at the rosy flush on your cheeks from all the laughter. Honestly, he's been eager to see you laugh like this; you look so stunning that you nearly leave him breathless.

"You haven't answered my question," He says. "Are you a virgin?"

"I'm not telling you," You refuse.

"Well, you know the consequence when you can't answer a question.”

"Alright, I'll take on a dare. What do you want me to do?" Wonwoo presses his lips together, taking his time to contemplate. "You’re not going to ask me to kiss you, are you?" You guessed correctly; it's the only thing that pops into your mind. "That's not what I had in mind," he says, locking his gaze on your eyes and then your lips. "Though I wouldn't be opposed to it."

You swallow hard, feeling a wave of nerves. "Then what do you want me to do?"

His eyes rise to meet yours. "Sing me that song."

"What song?"

"Baby.." He starts singing, "Shark doo doo doo doo."

"Ugh, go fuck yourself, Wonwoo!" You snarl and start walking off down the hall.

"Where are you going, babe?" He asks through his laughter. You flip him the middle finger and keep walking.

𓂃۶ৎ

You’ve been here for ten days, and it’s beginning to dawn on you that your stay isn’t as unpleasant as you initially imagined. Your books and the maids provide comforting company in Wonwoo's absence. However, when he is home, he either intentionally teases you, flirts with you at every opportunity, or instigates a game of Truth or Dare. It’s evident that you both have formed a bond through this game, though recently, his questions have varied widely, swinging from trivial to rather inappropriate.

What's your favorite movie? (Shrek)

Do you believe in Aliens? (Nope)

What do you like about me? (Nothing)

You were, of course, being dishonest. You simply didn’t want him to become too arrogant about it.

Do you have a Daddy kink? (What do you think?)

There are moments when you ask questions without much thought, just wanting to move on, and then there are times when your curiosity is genuine. Through this playful game, albeit silly, you learn so much about Wonwoo—ranging from significant details, like his decision to leave his architecture career to take over his father's company, to lighter anecdotes, such as how his ex-girlfriend broke up with him because he pours his milk before his cereal. Just ten days ago, he was merely an acquaintance; now he has become a friend—the kind who annoys you at times, yet you can't stay upset with for long.

𓂃۶ৎ

It's a Friday morning, and you find yourself alone in the dining room. Wonwoo has left for work after sharing a quick breakfast with you, a routine that has developed since you started your stay. He'll return for dinner later in the evening. As you sip your tea, your phone lights up with a message from your dad, saying, 'The lawyer will be in touch soon. If there's anything you'd like to add to the contract, please let him know.'

It appears your dad has engaged a lawyer to assist in drafting a prenuptial agreement. You don't quite grasp the urgency. To be honest, you haven't really contemplated what will happen after the three weeks are up, but you aren't one to defy your father's wishes. With a resigned sigh, you pick up your phone and respond with an "Okay" and a "Thank you, Dad."

Later that evening, you finally draft a few terms you'd like to negotiate, typing them out in the notes section of your iPad. Now, you're pondering whether to discuss them with Wonwoo before sending the file to your lawyer. After a brief moment of reflection, you reach for your phone to send him a text.

[9:06pm] You: My room, now. [9:06pm] Jeon W.: You think I'm your dog? [9:07pm] You: Can you see me in my room, please? :) [9:07pm] Jeon W.: What for? [9:08pm] You: I want to show you something. [9:08pm] Jeon W.: You, naked? [9:09pm] You: Maybe.

In an instant, you hear the familiar sound of his door opening and closing, accompanied by the rhythm of his footsteps. Finally, the door to your room swings open, revealing Wonwoo in a simple white t-shirt and black shorts. His tousled hair falls gently over his eyes, which look so inviting that you can't help but want to run your fingers through them. When his gaze meets yours, you can't help but giggle at the look of disappointment that washes over his face upon realizing you’re not naked. With a grunt, Wonwoo mutters something quietly under his breath.

"Come sit with me," you respond before looking down at your iPad. The door clicks shut, and he approaches you. He stands beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his shorts as he gazes down at you. "What made you invite me to your room, princess?" he inquires. "Please tell me we are finally doing the deed? Because I am so fucking ready."

You roll your eyes. "Why do you have to relate everything to sex?"

“If you didn't invite me here for naughty purposes, what for then?" He asks once he is seated next to you on the ottoman. "My father has hired a lawyer for me," you told him. "You know, to help me out with the marriage contract and stuff."

His eyes go round like saucers. "Fuck, we're getting married for real?"

"Oh, I wouldn't count on that," you reply dismissively. His gaze sharpens as he looks at you. "However," you continue, "if I decide to accept this arrangement, there are certain conditions that need to be met." You hand him your iPad. "Take a look at this. I thought it would be wise to go over it together before I send it to my lawyer."

On your iPad, there's a bullet-point list of your negotiation terms. They aren't phrased in legal jargon, but that's something for the lawyer to address, not you.

I get to finish my studies and find a job of my choosing here.

We move to a new place (preferably a villa and NOT haunted)

I want a pet pig.

He pauses his reading to gaze at you with a blank expression, as if he believes you’ve lost your mind.

"What? Pigs are intelligent, you know?"

"Where do you think you are? FarmVille?" he replies with a sarcastic tone.

"We could get a teacup pig!" you counter. "Have you seen them? They’re adorable and tiny!"

"There's no such thing as teacup pigs. They are just piglets and will eventually grow into a motherfucking pig. On top of that, they stink and poop like it's no one's business.”

You lift your chin to meet his gaze. "How can you be so certain?"

"I know someone who breeds pigs," he replies. You pause for a moment, then reluctantly acknowledge that Wonwoo is correct; a fully grown pig can easily weigh around 300 kg, making it impractical to keep one in the house.

"Alright, I'll remove that option," you say, giving in. Wonwoo notices the slight pout forming on your lips and the disappointment etched on your face. He feels a twinge of guilt for disappointing you, and it tugs at his heart.

"Is there another pet you'd like to have?" he asks gently, adding, "Just nothing that belongs on a farm... or in a jungle."

You look up at him with bright, hopeful eyes. "What about a kitten or a puppy?" you suggest. Wonwoo beams at you. "We can definitely do that," he agrees, before turning his attention back to your iPad.

In the event of an extramarital affair, I have the right to leave the marriage. We got a divorce with no contest.

Wonwoo gazes at you once more, his expression a mystery. "Do you really think I would cheat on you?"

You find yourself at a loss for words. Having faced abandonment at a young age, you've learned to be wary of those around you. You've grown up convinced that people will eventually lose interest and leave, just like your parents did.

“I hope you don't take it the wrong way," you reassure him. "I'm not implying that you're untrustworthy; it's simply that I don't know you well enough to place my trust in you." A look of understanding crosses his face, and he nods. "That’s fair," he replies, redirecting his focus to the screen.

With a look of concentration, his lips purse as he studies the bullet points. You lean in to see better as he taps the edit icon in the bottom right corner of the screen, causing the keyboard to pop up, and his fingers begin to move.

In the event of an extramarital affair (never going to happen), I have the right to leave the marriage. As a penalty, 100% of Jeon Wonwoo's assets will be handed over to me.

You read and reread the section he has just revised. "Are you serious?" You stare at him, eyes wide in disbelief. "You're giving me complete ownership of your property?"

He nods with an ease that suggests it's no big deal to him. "Regardless of whether I have an affair, you’ll still receive fifty percent of everything I acquire from the moment you say yes."

If he’s attempting to entice you, it's working to some extent. You won’t deny that his offer is incredibly tempting. Wonwoo's assets are immense, and with that kind of wealth, you could finally establish a literacy organization and open those free schools you’ve always dreamed of.

"I'll have my lawyer prepare the prenup as soon as you make a decision," he states.

"Oh, okay," you mumble, still in disbelief.

"What’s next?" he mutters to himself, redirecting his attention to the screen.

"I want children, and I get to name all of them." You’ve pondered long and hard about including that clause. You know Wonwoo will tease you when he sees it, but you push your embarrassment aside. You've always wanted kids, and it's crucial that he supports the idea before you commit to marriage.

He raises an amused eyebrow, a smirk forming on one side of his mouth. "Babies, huh?"

You feel your cheeks flush. "Why? Don’t you want kids?"

He shakes his head and turns to set the iPad down on the mattress behind him. When he looks back at you, you respond with a confused expression. "What does—" you mimic his earlier gesture, shaking your head, "that means?"

"It means if you want children, I can give you children. But there's an issue," he replies, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps flex, and it's hard to ignore. Damn him. Stop staring! you scold yourself. Look up! You force yourself to meet his gaze. "What’s the issue?"

“How can we have children if you keep running away every time I get close?" he asks. "You won’t even let me touch you."

"I'm not going to run," you insist, looking away.

"I don't believe you." Determined to prove him wrong, you lift your chin and meet his eyes. "Try me."

A moment of silence stretches between you, creating a charged atmosphere. His gaze is dark and intense, hinting at something more intimate.

"Come sit on my lap," he finally says. Your eyes drop to his thighs, and you gulp nervously. Slowly, you rise from your seat and stand in front of him, glancing between him and his lap, hesitating.

Wonwoo watches you, his heart racing as you finally lower yourself onto his lap. Once seated, he places a hand on your back, resting his palm on the curve of your waist to steady you in case you move. This is the closest you’ve ever been, and he’s reluctant to let go. A stretched silence envelops you as Wonwoo studies your profile intently, while you glance down at your fingers, nervously twiddling your thumbs.

"What now?" You say, trying to defuse the awkwardness.

“Put your arms around me, sweetheart," he softly whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. The warmth of his low voice raises goosebumps along the back of your neck. Normally, you would scold him for calling you sweetheart, as it feels incredibly patronizing. However, these aren’t ordinary circumstances, and you find yourself too anxious to speak. Instead, you take a deep, shaky breath and press forward. As you encircle your arms around Wonwoo's shoulders, he gazes directly into your eyes.

If you are any other woman in this situation, he would have pulled you in for a kiss already. But you are not just any woman. And it doesn't help that he has no fucking idea whether you're attracted to him or not. He studies you for a moment, his own gaze is twitchy, showing slight hesitation.

"Am I making you feel uncomfortable?" he whispers softly.

"Just a bit," you respond quietly. "But it's not a bad thing."

He maintains eye contact as he takes a deep breath. "If I were to touch you, would you push me away?"

"It depends on where you touch," you answer, your voice barely above a whisper. Noticing your tension, Wonwoo feels uncertain about where to begin. The last thing he wants is to frighten you away with his advances, but the urge to kiss you is so fucking strong.

He keeps his gaze fixed on you. Gradually, almost hesitantly, he raises his hand and glides his fingertips along your jawline, cradling your face. "Is this alright?" he asks, searching your eyes.

His hand feels warm against your skin, and his touch is unexpectedly gentle. You let out a sigh and nod. "It's alright."

Wonwoo's lips curve into a smile, as if a weight has been lifted. "You have such a tiny face, baby," he muses, stroking the back of his thumb across your cheek. "It fits perfectly in my hand."

At this, you scoff. "Any guy would say something like, ‘You have such a beautiful face or lovely eyes.’"

"You know I'm not like any other guy."

"That's true," you reply, a soft smile gracing your lips. "I've never encountered anyone quite like you."

Only now do you realize how close your faces are. There's an unexpected tenderness and intimacy in his gaze, and to your own surprise, you find yourself enjoying it. You appreciate his affection.

"If you keep looking at me like that," he says, noticing your dazed expression. You blink, only to find yourself captivated by the intensity of his stare. "I'm afraid I won't be able to resist much longer."

"H-how am I looking at you?" you ask, as he gently brushes his thumb over your lower lip. "Like you want me to kiss you," he whispers.

Your heart races, and a warm blush spreads across your pale cheeks. He leans in, closer and closer, while your mind spins like a carousel. You realize you should push him away and say no, yet your body feels immobilized. It’s as if he has cast a spell, leaving you frozen in place.

The last thing you see before closing your eyes is how near his face is to yours, and then darkness envelops you as you feel the softness of his lips brush against yours. Stiff as a board, you’re surprised to find he feels just as tense. Neither of you moves your lips. This isn't what you envisioned kissing Wonwoo would be like; it almost feels like a first kiss again because you're unsure of what to do.

Should you open your mouth? Pull him closer? Or something else?

After a few seconds, Wonwoo finally pulls back. You open your eyes to meet his gaze, but it’s inscrutable. Your brows furrowed in confusion as you try to interpret the expression on his face.

Is he disappointed? Oh god, are you a bad kisser?

“It’s late,” he says somewhat coldly, avoiding your eyes. “I should probably head out now.”

“Oh, yeah, okay,” you reply, quickly unclasping your arms from around his neck and sliding off his lap. Turning your back to him as you stand, you feel too embarrassed to face him after what just occurred.

You both exchange a brief goodnight without making eye contact and then he disappears from your sight.

𓂃۶ৎ

The past few days have been quite overwhelming for Wonwoo. Since his father announced his retirement, he has had to step up and assume the role of CEO at the company. This means he’s faced with an increasing number of meetings and engagements to attend. In fact, he is currently heading to his third meeting of the day. It’s frustrating because he’s unable to spend as much time with you as he wishes.

On a brighter note, things between you two have been progressing positively. Wonwoo has noticed that, for the first time since your arrival, your disagreements feel less like disdain and more like playful banter. Yet, he’s still uncertain about where you both stand at this moment.

What will happen when the three weeks come to an end? Will you pack your bags and leave, or will you decide to stay? Fuck.

The thought of you leaving hits him hard, like a punch to the gut. He confesses that he's developed strong feelings for you—intensely so. It may seem foolish since you've only been together for two weeks, yet you have become the first thought that crosses his mind when he wakes up and the last before he drifts off to sleep. Perhaps it's because you are gradually lowering your defenses around him, allowing him to see the authentic you.

He recognizes that your relationship with your parents has been complicated. Abandoned at a young age, you carry the weight of a broken heart. He can hardly fathom the pain you endured when your mother left and your father sent you away. He understands that these experiences have left you feeling rejected, unwanted, and often inadequate; it's no wonder you tend to be shy and reserved around others.

Everyone except him.

Regardless of whether you have positive feelings for him or not, he remains unaware of your true sentiments. One thing he does recognize is your fearless nature when it comes to expressing your opinions or calling him out when necessary; perhaps that’s why he enjoys provoking you so much. Although only a few days have passed, he already longs for the playful banter and friendly arguments you shared. He misses the mischievous sparkle in your eyes when you throw a comeback his way. He yearns for the delightful sound of your laughter when he succeeds in making you smile, feeling as if he has just achieved a remarkable victory. Yet, above all else, he simply misses you.

The last conversation you had was on the night he kissed you. And he fucking ruined everything. He was completely at a loss about what had just happened to him. He had never felt this nervous around a girl before. He knows he’s a great kisser, but the instant he pressed his lips against yours, it was as if he had never kissed anyone in his life. Still, his heart raced in overdrive every time he thought about how your lips felt against his. He could have performed much better, but there’s no use in dwelling on the past. All he knows is that the next time an opportunity like that arises, he promises to kiss you passionately and make it the best kiss you've ever experienced. And he hopes that next time comes soon because time is slipping away for the two of you.

𓂃۶ৎ

Wonwoo should feel relieved now that he has completed his business project, but instead, he feels a sense of unease. That’s why he chose to skip the company dinner and head straight home. As he drives, an overwhelming sense of dread washes over him, as if he knows something is amiss but can’t quite pinpoint what it is.

"Where is she?" he asks one of the housekeepers when he walks into the house.

"She’s been in her room all day, Sir," she replies.

Wonwoo quietly mutters a quick thank you before hurrying up the stairs. He walks down the dimly lit hallway, pauses at your door, knocks, and waits. When no response comes, he decides not to knock again. Instead, he pushes the door open and steps into your room. His gaze quickly lands on your bed, and he lets out a huge sigh of relief upon spotting the lump beneath the covers.

Is she already asleep? he wonders, glancing at his wristwatch, which reads five-thirty. That's quite early. He approaches the bed and stands beside it. Gently, he pulls back the covers, and his heart races when he finally sees you. Your face is mostly hidden by your hair, prompting him to brush it aside, only to be taken aback. Your skin feels incredibly hot to the touch, and your face is damp with sweat.

Wonwoo kneels beside the bed and presses the back of his hand against your neck. "Sweetheart," he calls softly. "You're burning up, baby. Are you okay?"

You murmur something he can't quite hear, and as he observes your lips moving, he notices that you are trembling uncontrollably. Oh fuck. Panic rises in his chest, and he immediately places his arms under your body to scoop you up.

You groan at the abrupt movement, your heavy eyelids fluttering open to meet his gaze. You appear taken aback. "Wh-what are you doing, Wonwoo?"

"I'm taking you to the doctor," he replies, keeping his eyes fixed ahead as he strides toward the door.

"Put me down, I'm fine."

"Don't argue with me," he counters, still not glancing at you. "I won't accept a refusal."

You roll your eyes. "You're acting like I'm having a heart attack or something… it’s just a fever, Wonwoo; it'll probably go a-."

Suddenly, Wonwoo halts and looks down at you with such a stern expression that it leaves you speechless. You blink up at him, feeling a bit flustered. "I'm taking you to the doctor, and that's final," he states, leaving no room for debate. With a frustrated huff, you finally concede, your lips pouting slightly.

Wonwoo felt a rush of warmth coursing through his veins. He inhaled deeply, battling the sudden desire to press his lips against yours. A sense of mild shame washed over him, knowing you were unwell and that he shouldn’t be having such thoughts. Perhaps it was just because he missed you so intensely because how does someone manage to look so goddamn kissable even when they are sick, it's ridiculous. Damn her.

"Can you at least put me down? I can walk just—" Your eyes widen as Wonwoo suddenly leans closer.

"Do I need to kiss you to shut you up?" he murmurs just above your lips. You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as he notices the blush spreading. A warm feeling fills his chest, and a smile appears on his face.

Beautiful little brat.

It has been a while since you last saw Wonwoo, and now he’s carrying you like a charming prince, convinced of his own charm. And now he’s even suggesting he’ll kiss you? You’re at a loss for words, your thoughts muddled and heavy.

As Wonwoo carries you down the stairs, you choose silence. A housekeeper gives you a concerned glance, and you manage a faint smile to reassure her that you’re alright.

“We’ll be out for a bit,” Wonwoo informs her as he strides through the open door toward the driveway where his car awaits. You remain silent even as he places you gently in the passenger seat and fastens your safety belt. He then walks around to the driver’s side, and you watch quietly as he starts the engine and secures his own seatbelt.

Despite your illness, his good looks continue to captivate you. Attraction is indeed a mysterious force. Seeing him in his work attire always ignites a spark, and now, with his suit jacket removed and only a white dress shirt on—buttons undone—it's even more potent. You also realize this is your first time witnessing Wonwoo drive; typically, it's been Mr. Lee, his chauffeur, who has taken you both around.

“Where is Mr—” You gasp, pressing your lips together as you suddenly remember his earlier words. Do I have to kiss you to shut you up? His voice echoes in your mind, causing your cheeks to flush once more.

Wonwoo glances at you, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. A moment later, understanding seems to wash over him, and he chuckles. "You can talk, baby. I'm not going to kiss you." He averts his gaze back to the road ahead. "Not now."

Not now...

As you attempt to compose yourself, a brief silence envelops the car. His words are making you increasingly nervous. You clear your throat and finally inquire, "Where is Mr. Lee?"

"His wife went into labor yesterday, so I'm giving him some time off." You don’t press for more details; you simply lack the energy to continue.

As the car halts at the first traffic light, Wonwoo glances at you. His expression softens as he takes in your frail condition. He gently reaches out to touch your forehead, wincing at the heat radiating from your skin. "Poor baby," he murmurs, lovingly brushing his knuckles against your cheek.

For reasons you can't quite comprehend, his tender gesture brings tears to your eyes; this kind of care is something you've longed for throughout your life.

"Are you taking me to the hospital?" you inquire.

He shakes his head lightly. "I'm taking you to Mingyu's clinic."

"Mingyu, as in your friend Mingyu?"

"Exactly."

Kim Mingyu is likely the most attractive doctor you've ever encountered. Not only that, but he is also warm and approachable. Just ten minutes into your appointment, you find yourself genuinely liking him. However, your feelings shift when he says, "I need to give you a shot to bring down your fever."

You don’t want to appear cowardly, but everyone has their fears, and for you, it's needles. This is why you never got your ears pierced, unlike everyone else. And why you were hesitant to visit the doctor.

Your face pales, and it must show because Doctor Kim is now smiling. "Are you scared?" he asks. You respond with a small nod and a shy smile. He chuckles. "What a cutie."

Almost instantly, Wonwoo clears his throat beside you. "Doctor Kim..." he says calmly, though it feels more like a warning than anything else.

The tall doctor smiles to himself as he turns away to gather the necessary tools for your injection. Meanwhile, you nervously fidget with your thumbs, watching him pick up a syringe.

Wonwoo observes you the entire time, wanting to alleviate your anxiety but unsure how to do so. Despite his uncertainty, he gently places his hand over yours while his other hand softly strokes your back. When you glance at him, he offers you a warm and reassuring smile. "It's okay," he comforts you. "Just focus on me."

You follow his advice, and soon you feel a chilly sensation on your upper arm as Doctor Kim wipes the alcohol swab across your skin. Anticipating what's next, you shut your eyes tightly and hold your breath. You stifle a wince as the needle pierces your skin, refusing to sound like a child.

"All done," the doctor announces after applying a plaster to your arm. Opening your eyes, you see Wonwoo still watching you with concern. "Are you alright?" he asks, gently brushing his thumb over the back of your hand.

You manage a small nod. "I'm okay." Wonwoo smiles and gives you a gentle pat on the head. It's a simple gesture, yet it stirs all sorts of feelings within you. This prompts Mingyu to clear his throat, and you shift your attention back to the doctor.

"You'll feel better soon. You've just been really stressed lately," he says. "Let me write you a prescription for your headache, and then you’ll be good to go. Make sure to rest and try not to worry too much."

"I will, thank you, Doctor Kim."

He looks up from his prescription pad. "You can just call me Min—wait, how old are you again?"

"I'm twenty-one."

"Just like Hana," he smiles fondly, leaving you curious about her identity. "You can call me Mingyu oppa, then," he adds.

“Oppa my ass," Wonwoo snorted. "She doesn’t even call me oppa.”

"Well, that’s your issue," the doctor retorts.

"Are we finished or not?" Wonwoo asks impatiently.

"Here," the doctor hands you a piece of paper to take to the pharmacy. "Get well soon, pretty."

"Thank you, oppa," you tease, bursting into giggles as Wonwoo groans. He frowns at you. "I’m older than you too; why don’t you ever call me oppa?"

You shrug. "Maybe because you don’t act like one to me." The doctor snickers, while Wonwoo scowls. "What does an oppa behave like, exactly?"

"Like a man? I suppose."

He raises an eyebrow. "Are you implying that I act like a child?"

You flash him a playful grin, gasping as he hooks his foot around your stool leg and pulls you closer. With his arms brushing against yours, he leans in, whispering near your ear.

"Should I take you home and show you just how manly I can be?" he murmurs. Mingyu must have overheard because he started spluttering.

"You're disgusting, Wonwoo..." he coughs between words. Your face flushes bright red, and you smack him lightly on the chest in retaliation. Wonwoo grins at your embarrassment.

"Let’s head home, baby." He takes your hand and leads you toward the door.

"Wonwoo," the doctor calls just as he’s about to open the door. Wonwoo releases your hand and turns to face his friend. "Yeah?"

"Hana is back," Mingyu says.

A tense silence ensues as you glance between the two men. "Oh, how is she doing?" Wonwoo asks, his tone serious, heightening your curiosity.

Who is she? A friend, perhaps?

"She’s... she’s doing well," Mingyu replies. "We should catch up soon. Are you free to join us for the gathering this Sunday at Chan’s place?" You look at Wonwoo, waiting for his response. His silence suggests he’s unsure, maybe even reluctant.

"It’s been a while, Jeon; she really misses you," Mingyu encourages. "Joshua and the rest will be there too."

"Sure...," Wonwoo consents. "I’ll be there."

As he leads you out of the room, you notice a shift in his demeanor; he seems unusually quiet. Unable to hold back your curiosity any longer, you ask, "Who’s Hana?"

"His little sister," is all he replies. Your thoughts drift to this person named Hana. You picture her as beautiful, just like her handsome brother, and wonder about their relationship and why Wonwoo hesitated to accept Mingyu's dinner invitation.

Did something happen between them?

While your curiosity is piqued, you remind yourself that it’s not your business. If Wonwoo wants you to know, he will tell you. So, you push those thoughts aside and head to the pharmacy to pick up your meds. By the time you leave Mingyu's clinic, the sky has darkened. Whatever the doctor injected must've worked wonders because you feel less lethargic as Wonwoo leads you to his car.

"You have a nice car," you say absent-mindedly, smoothing your hand over the sleek dashboard.

"Do you want one?" he asks, turning to gauge your reaction.

"Wh-what?" you squeak. How could he ask that so casually? This car must be incredibly expensive. But then again, this man is loaded. "No," you quickly add. "I don’t even know how to drive."

"You can learn," he replies.

Getting a driver's license is on your bucket list this year, and the thought of checking that off makes you excited. "Will you... teach me?" you ask hesitantly, considering how busy he has been lately.

"Of course," he says. "How about we start this Sunday?"

You can’t contain your excitement as you respond, "Okay."

He smiles at your enthusiasm, then hesitates, as if unsure about something.

"What is it, Wonwoo?" you encourage.

"Do you want to come with me to the gathering this Sunday night?"

"The one Mingyu invited you to?" you ask, tilting your head. He nods in agreement. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"I’d be thrilled if you could. I’ve been wanting to introduce you to my friends, but I know being around a group makes you uncomfortable. So, you don’t have to say yes if it doesn’t feel right."

You smile at his rambling, and he seems to realize it too, smiling shyly as he rubs the back of his neck. It’s a side of him you haven’t seen before—refreshing and endearing.

"Yes, Wonwoo, I’ll be there for you," you say willingly, knowing you might feel anxious that day, but also trusting that Wonwoo will be there. He returns your smile with gratitude. "Thank you."

The car falls into a comfortable silence as you gaze out the window, enjoying the night view of the city lights. There’s something romantic about it, and you swear you feel a flutter every time you catch Wonwoo’s reflection in the side window as he glances at you.

When the car stops at a red light, you feel the warmth of Wonwoo’s hand on your thigh, startling you. You look down at his hand, then back up to find his gaze fixed on you.

"What do you want for dinner?" he asks, lightly tapping your skin with his index finger. Amidst your nervousness, you focus and respond.

"Can we get McDonald's?"

"You're still sick, baby," he gives your thigh a gentle squeeze.

"Let’s get something healthier, okay?" You nearly start hyperventilating. You’re unsure about the sudden affection he’s showing today. All the contact feels intimate, making your stomach flip.

"Should we get something with soup instead?" he suggests, pulling you from your thoughts. "I know a place that serves great Samgyetang."

"Yeah," you nod. "That sounds good."

Wonwoo acknowledges that he’s being unusually touchy today, but he knows he has nothing to lose. Time is short, and with uncertainty looming over the next three weeks, he doesn’t want to waste any moments with you.

He can’t deny that his feelings for you have deepened, especially after spending the day together. This is why he needs to know if you're comfortable with his advances, as eventually, he wants more. First, he wants to kiss you, then take you to his bed and explore all the things he's dreamed of doing with you.

Baby steps. He reminds himself. You don’t want to scare her off. Presently, you and Wonwoo are in the lift, heading to the Korean restaurant on the top floor. He glances down at your hands, still intertwined.

"Truth or Dare?" he initiates. You look up at him and smile softly, warming his heart as he realizes you must have missed playing this silly game as much as he does.

"Dare," you choose. It’s not the answer Wonwoo expected, but that’s fine; he has a plan. With a slow smirk spreading across his face, he says, "Call me Wonwoo oppa." You make a face of disgust at his request.

"I changed my mind. Truth." Even better, Wonwoo thinks.

He looks down at your hands again. "Do you like this?" He lifts them to his chest. "Me holding your hand—do you like it?" You take a moment to think, wrestling with different answers before finally nodding and murmuring, "Yes."

Wonwoo feels like he’s just won a trophy. “I love holding your hand too,” he wants to shout in victory, but that would be too much.

God, this girl is driving me crazy.

Who would have thought that a guy like him would be so excited over something as simple as hand-holding? It’s not even about sex. He chuckles and shakes his head at himself.

You give him a curious frown. "Are you okay?"

"Do you miss Uni?" he deflects your question. "Your friends... they’re all in LA, right?"

"I do miss learning, but I don’t miss living there," you reply, a hint of sadness in your smile. "It’s quite lonely there."

Something about that tugs at his heartstrings. He doesn’t want you to feel lonely. "What about your friends?"

"I only have one close friend, Vernon." There’s warmth in your voice when you mention him. "But he’s not in the same classes as me, so we don’t see each other often. We call every day, though."

"That’s good," Wonwoo smiles. "You’ll make more friends this Sunday. Joshua and the others will probably bring their girlfriends."

You look unsure, and he senses your self-doubt. "They’re all good people," he assures. "You’ll like them, and I know they’ll like you too." Just like I do.

You smile shyly. "I hope so."

𓂃۶ৎ

Do you know that feeling you get when you are in the last chapter of a good book? That longing for more? That feeling of not wanting to say goodbye? You feel the same way when you walk down the hallway towards your room with Wonwoo beside you. Though it is rather presumptuous of you to say, you'd like to believe that Wonwoo feels the same way, too. Because even if he isn't talking, he is walking slower than usual, as if he doesn't want to say goodbye to you and to this night.

Today has been a special one for the both of you. A lot has happened in the past hours spent together. And if there's one thing you realize you realize that your feelings for Wonwoo are growing. There's no point denying it anymore because it is there. Although you can't help the fear that grips you every time you think about the possibility of him leaving. But is it so wrong to hope for a happy ending? For once you just want to throw caution to the wind and enjoy what is given to you in this moment.

"We're here," Wonwoo announces as we reach the end of the hallway where your room is.

You turn to stare up at him. "Thank you for today." you smile, leaving a moment of still silence before you add, "And dinner… I had a great time."

"Me too." The silence continues to stretch as he drops his gaze to your mouth and lingers. The butterflies in your belly started flapping their wings all at once. You watch as he swallows and somewhere inside, you're hoping he would kiss you or make a move of some sort. But… He lifts his gaze and lets go of your hand. "You should get some rest."

You feel a pang of disappointment at the sudden loss of contact. You're confused. One moment he is being all touchy, and the next moment he is pulling back like this.

"I’m going for a swim," He says. "I'll be at the pool if you need me."

You force a smile. "Good night, Wonwoo."

"Rest well, baby."

You enter your room and close the door behind you, exhaling. What was this sudden awkwardness and hesitation between us? You wonder to yourself as you walk into the bathroom.

After a long shower, you get in bed and try to get yourself to sleep but your mind doesn't seem to allow you to. You are still confused, and frustrated. And as you lay there in silence, it suddenly occurs to you that there is a possibility Wonwoo might think you're inexperienced when it comes to sex. You remember him asking about it before; if you're a virgin, and you had refused to answer. He must've thought so, of course, considering how you always get all shy and jitterish every time he touches you.

You sit up in bed, a hopeful smile spreading across your face when every thought in your head seems to fall into place. So this is why Wonwoo has been so unsure to make a move. Because he doesn't want to scare you off. Because he is waiting for you to be ready. Something warm moves through your chest.

What a sweet soul he is. Has he always been this way? Or are you only discovering this side of him because you've fallen for him?

You hop off the bed, feeling unsure and nervous, yet there's this longing so deep that it is making your heart pound. You've never moved so fast in your life as you hurry to change into your nude colored bathing suit before putting on a bathrobe. You give your appearance a quick check in the mirror before striding out of your room. Rushing down the stairs, you ponder through the things you are going to say to Wonwoo when you see him. In the midst of your nervousness, you can't think of anything. So you can only hope that you'll find the right words to say when you see him, soon.

The sliding door that leads to the backyard pool is left slightly ajar. You hear the splashing sound of the water as you step out into the open. The backyard is slightly dim but you easily catch sight of Wonwoo's naked back. Your gaze slides along his bare shoulders and you feel your stomach clenches at how broad his physique is. He has his upper arms stretched along the pool ledge, staring thoughtfully up at the starry sky. You wonder what, or who is in his mind at this very moment, and you find yourself praying that it is you he is thinking about.

You glance down at yourself. Your hands, they are slightly trembling as you untie the knot of your robe, letting it fall freely over your shoulders to the ground. Staring down at your semi-naked self, doubt washes over you instantly. What if Wonwoo doesn't like what he sees. You are sure he has been with many women before, and for a guy as attractive as him, he must have high standards. You feel the sudden urge to run away, back into your bedroom and hide, but it's too late now because when you lift your head, you realize Wonwoo is already staring.

Your breath catches when you meet his eyes. He stares at your features first, then slowly, his gaze drops and drags down to your body, drinking every inch of you. The air around you suddenly feels so thick, and your heart nearly bursts as you watch the lump in his throat rise and fall.

You clear your throat softly to get him to look at your face, and he did. There is tenderness mixed with desire in his eyes, and you're both thrilled and unsure.

"Can I join you?" your voice came out soft.

Wonwoo takes a moment to process your question, then he says, "The water is freezing, baby, I don't want you to get sick again." You press the back of your hand on your neck, checking your body temperature. "My fever has gone down. I'm feeling much better now.”

"Get in then." He says, turning his head around to face the water again.

You walk over to the poolside and lower yourself into a squatting position. Wonwoo feels your presence close to him that made him turn his head towards you again. He keeps his eyes on you as you dip your legs into the water before sliding your body in. The water rises all the way to your collarbone and you shiver at the sudden cold sensation that runs through your body.

"Told you it's cold," Wonwoo mumbles. "Come here, baby." He reaches for your hand underwater and moves you to stand with your back to him.

Butterflies take flight in your stomach. What surprises you most is when he wraps his arms around your waist as he hugs you from behind. “Better?” His whispers in your ear.

"Yeah," you breathe, and despite your racing heart, you let your body relax in his hold.

“I was hoping you'd come and you did." he rests his chin on top of your head. "Did you read my mind, mmh?"

You huff softly. "I can hear you calling my name from up there." Wonwoo chuckles. "Why did you come here though? Can't sleep?"

You hum, leaving a beat of silence before you confess, "I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"Me too." He says. "I think about you all the time.”

You let out a soft breath as a soft smile tugs at your lips. Here in the quiet, the beating of his heart sounded so clear in your ears, and so do yours. Glancing to your side and up, you find him gazing up at the sky again, seemingly in deep thoughts. In the dimness of the night, the moonlight illuminates his features, strands of wet hair fall over his forehead, and you take the opportunity to study his handsome face. Wonwoo musť've felt you staring because he is lowering his gaze to look at you now. You suddenly feel shy by his closeness, by the soft way he is staring at you.

"What did you do these past few days when I was gone?" He asks out of nowhere, the question random as if he's trying to defuse the thick tension in the air.

"I did a lot of thinking and worrying..." you huff and shake your head. He turns you around to make you look at him. "Worrying about what?"

Your answer might come off silly to him but you decided to be honest. "I thought you were purposely avoiding me because of the kiss...because you didn't enjoy kissing me."

A frown marred his expression. "That's what you were worrying about?"

You show him a small embarrassed smile before dropping your gaze to stare at his chest. "Silly, I know."’

Wonwoo grips your chin and gently tilts your head up, making you look at him again. “That might not be the best kiss, I know, but I enjoyed it." He claims. "I enjoyed kissing you so much I want to do it again," He lowers his gaze to your mouth and swipes the back of his thumb over your bottom lip. "I want to do it now...if you'd let me…”

You blink up at him, the surprise causes your lips to part a little. Wonwoo gazes at you expectantly, waiting for your approval. Then you nod, and that small gesture brings a soft smile to his face. He leans closer and weaves his fingers through your hair. Your eyes flutter close and the butterflies take flight in your stomach when he presses his lips on your lips.

Unlike the first time he kissed you, his mouth is moving more skillfully, more firmly this time. You slide your hands up to the back of his neck and return his kiss with equal passion. He groans into your mouth, the tip of his tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips, and you part your mouth in an invitation. Without hesitation, his tongue slides into your mouth to meet yours, and you make a whimpering sound when he bites down on your lower lip, tugging at it as he groans.

His hold around your waist turns bruising and he roughly turns you around to back you against the pool wall. You gasp when he presses his body closer to you, his hands sliding down from your waist to the back of your thighs. You instinctively wrap your legs around his hips, and your chest emerges from the water with the elevation. His hard on is now positioned against your womanhood, and your body reacts in pure instinct, grinding yourself against him with no inhibition.

He grunts into your mouth and from there, the kiss quickly turns wet and dirty. You continue grinding yourself against him, and soon the ache between your legs is getting unbearable. You need more, but to your dismay, Wonwoo pulls his mouth away from you.

You blink at him, panting and confused. "W-why did you stop?” His face is contorted as though he is restraining himself from something. What though?

"If we don't stop," he says, his voice a hoarse whisper. "I'll end up fucking you in this pool and I can't promise l'll be gentle with you, baby.."

“It's okay," your answer came so quickly it surprised him. You bite your lips in a shy smile. "I mean… you don't have to be gentle with me, Wonwoo."

"I don't want to hurt you…” He worries and you smooth your hands over his bare chest, feeling his heartbeat under your fingertips. His eyes flared, and it's making your heart drums with nervous excitement. "I don't know if you know this but I’m not a virgin anymore, so you don't have to, you know, hold back with me."

Wonwoo looks more amused than surprised by your admission. The corner of his lips curled up into a grin. "Are you telling me you like it hard, baby?" Your cheek flares up and he lets out a huff when he notices it.

"Is that why you came to me wearing this?" He lowered his gaze to your bathing suit. You nod.

"Do you like it?"

"I've never seen anything so beautiful," One of his hands hikes up your waistline, cupping your breast before tugging the neckline of your bathing suit to the side until your nipple is exposed.

You swallow heavily. "You're too good to be true, baby…" He glances up, watching you with heated eyes as he rubbed his thumb over your bud. "Do you like it when I touch you here, mmh?" He ended his question with a light pinch on your bud.

You expel a soft moan and Wonwoo takes it as a yes. He keeps his piercing gaze on you as he lowers his head to take your nipple into his hot mouth, his tongue twirling around the tip, teasing you for a while before he draws it in between his teeth in one long pull.

"W-Wonwoo.." you squeeze your legs tighter around his hips, feeling his erection poking deeper against your woman parts. The friction coaxes a low grunts out of him. He lifts his head from your chest to meet your gaze, his eyes smoldered with desire. His free hand is now coasting along your inner thigh, hiking up until his thumb is pressing over your underwear. He pulled the hem aside to reveal your pussy.

"What about this?" He starts to rub his thumb over your clit continuously in a tormentingly slow manner.

"More..." you beg breathily. "Please...," a moan slips when he thrusts two fingers inside you, keeping his eyes on you as he fulfills your wish for more. Your inner wall clenches around his digit with each push.

"So fucking tight..." he murmurs low under his breath as he works his finger in and out of you in a lazy manner. "How long has it been since the last time you're fucked, baby?"

Through your lust-filled haze, you can't even bring yourself to think. So you thoughtlessly mutter, "It's been a while."

His free hand trails from the side of your neck, up, to cup your face, "So delicate and beautiful," his voice thick, brimming with lust as he caresses your cheekbone. "Makes me want to protect and ruin you all at the same time," he let out deep chuckles. "Is that even possible?"

His hand disappears into your hair, and he leans in to kiss you sweet and slow, while his other hand continues to fuck your pussy, as sweet and slowly as his kiss. Although his touch brings pleasure to your body, it isn't enough to relieve that overwhelming ache between your legs, if possible, it only worsens it, making you more needy and desperate. So needy you start whining and moaning to beg for more. So desperate you start rocking your hips against his fingers to take control.

Wonwoo's fingers make a fist around your hair and he tugs it back, making your lips to detach from his. He looks into your eyes, his gaze dark and intense. "Stop it or I'll stop." He warns you.

You still and nod timidly, surprised to discover this dominant side of him, but even more surprised by your own submission. You didn't know you have it in you, considering how much you despise him ordering you around. But maybe it's different during sex, because you find it such a turn on when he takes control like this.

"Good girl," Wonwoo whispers his praise over your mouth. “Now tell me what you want, baby."

You drop your gaze to the hard-on underneath his black swim shorts. Although you can't see it well due to it being underwater, you can feel it damn well and Wonwoo gets the message. He hums and pulls his fingers out of your tight hole, causing a small gasp to fall from your lips. You loosen your thighs around his hips so he could remove his swim shorts. Your breathing slows when he wraps his fingers around the base of his cock. His jaw clenched as he gives it a few pumps before he slaps it hard over your pussy, drawing a lewd purr out of you.

Wonwoo brings his eyes up to stare at you, his dark pupils dilating. "I was planning to take it nice and slow today," He starts rubbing the tip of his cock over your slit and watches as you squirm against him.

"But you...God, you are one hell of a temptation to resist, aren't you?"

“Wonwoo, please.." your breath comes out ragged. "I don't think I can take it any- fuck!" The air is knocked out of you when he roughly slams his cock into you, stretching you so good you cry out a lewd sound of pleasure. You feel so full you can barely breathe, and he isn't even fully inside you yet.

Wonwoo drops his head to your shoulder and you feel his warm heavy pants fanning against your skin. "Baby, you're so tight my cock can barely fit," Wonwoo breathes out harshly and moans when you unconsciously squeeze around his cock. He lifts his head from your shoulder and plants his hand on the pool edge on each side of you.

Your heart nearly beats out of your chest when Wonwoo holds you in his gaze. His jaw is tight and you notice the bulging veins around his neck. He looks so masculine, so thoroughly turned on, and knowing that it is you who made him like this gives you a sense of ease and a little boost of confidence.

Feeling bolder now, you lean forward to put your mouth close to his ear. "Wonwoo." you whisper, parting your lips to pull his earlobe in between your teeth. "Fuck me, please, I can't wait any longer…”

"Jesus," He curses roughly. And when you lean back to stare at him, the heat in his brown eyes is growing hotter. "Where is this side of you coming from?" You chew your bottom lip through a smile. "I think you bring it out of me.”

“Fuck, you're so hot," he says hoarsely, moaning a little when your pussy clenched around his cock. "Hold on to me, baby." He orders, so you do as told, sliding your hands up and slinging them around his shoulder. He presses his lips in a thin line as he slides his cock out of you, leaving just the tip inside you. And with a grunt, he slams his cock deep inside you, until you are hugging every throbbing inch of him. Your fingers dig into his back in a reflex as he lets out a low guttural sound from the back of his throat.

He leans forward to capture your mouth in a hard kiss, and then he is pounding into you, driving his dick deep inside you mercilessly. It almost feels like he's going to rip you apart because he is so big, and you'd never been fucked so hard like this. With each thrust, the water sloshes all around and you are pushed harder against the wall.

You are a mess of moans and whimpers, and if it wasn't for the kiss that's muffling your lewd voice, you'll likely wake the housekeepers from their slumbers.

"How does my cock make you feel, sweetheart?" He whispers through a husky groan as he pumps his thick length in and out of you.

"So good," you say breathlessly over his mouth. "You make me feel so good, Wonwoo."

His thrusts are becoming quicker and harder now. He is fucking you as if he is losing control of himself, like he's a wild animal let loose of its cage. A beast unleashed. And it wasn't long until you feel that knot coiling up in your stomach

“Wonwoo," you panted heavily. "I-I'm close."

“I know, baby," He slips his hand under your stomach. He presses his thumb on your clit and pulls back to watch as he starts rubbing it aggressively. "Cum, cum for me."

A cry, almost a scream tears out of you as your body quakes and shudders against him. Your walls are convulsing around him but he didn't stop pounding his cock into you. Soon enough, you feel him swelling inside you as his orgasm nears. His long, guttural groan sounded in your ears, and with one last thrust, he jerks against you and unloads his cum into your pussy.

“Fuck," Wonwoo grunts harshly before he slumps into you. He drops his head to your shoulder as breathes heavily. Your thighs loosen around his hips and you drop your legs to the pool tiles, too languid to hold them up. As you try to moderate your breathing, reality begins to sink. Wonwoo has just cummed inside of you, without protection. Fear grips you tight in your chest.

"Wonwoo," you pat on his back and speak into his ear. "...we didn't use a condom."

He lifts his head, his chest inflating and deflating as he tries to regain his composure. "Don't worry, I'm clean." He finally says.

"It's not that," you explain. "I'm not on the pill." Wonwoo considers it calmly, as if you didn't just tell him the 'news' most men fear the most.

"One time is probably okay." He assures. "But if you end up pregnant, I promise I'll take care of you...and our baby."

Your heart soars. "Our… baby?" you voice out softly, half in disbelief, half liking how the words sounded when he said it.

"I just filled my sperm in your vagina, whose baby would it be if it's not ours?"

Your body shook as you laughed. No one you know has ever used the word 'sperm' and 'vagina' in a sentence. God, you really adore this funny and sexy man. You give him a smile. "You know it's funny how we do things the reverse way."

"Reverse way?"

You nod. "Usually, people fall in love first before they get married and make babies, but for us...it's the other way around."

"I don't think so," Wonwoo disagrees. "Because I think l've passed the first step."

"First step?" you ask. "What do you mean?" His answer is to lean in and kiss you. Sweet and softly. A complete opposite to the wild pool sex the two of you just had. The kiss lasted for a while before he pulled back to stare at you. His eyes hold so much emotion that it is making your heart rate go overdrive.

"When I got home today," He starts. "for a moment there, I had this bad feeling that you were gone, that you left me... and it scared me so much, baby." The expression in his eyes is something close to pain. "I know we don't have much time together, and I know if you decide not to marry me, I can't force you to stay...but if you leave, sweetheart… I'd be so broken because you,'" He sucks in a shaky breath. "You're starting to mean everything to me.”

You're starting to mean everything to me…

Your eyes roam over his face to search for any trace of mischief, or deception maybe, but there's none. He is being truthful. God. You are hit by a wave of emotions so intense you know you will likely burst into tears. "I..." Your lips part and unpart, trying to form a word but nothing comes out.

A look of understanding laces his eyes and he smiles. "It's okay, sweetheart. You don't have to say anything if you're not ready.”

Unlike Wonwoo, you are not someone who is good at expressing your feelings. But he has just shown you parts of him, and you know it is only right if you do too.

“I can't give you an answer yet because... honestly, I don't know it myself," you explain. "Marriage is a big thing and needs time to figure things out, Won," your hand moves up to cup his face.

"What I can tell you is, you mean something to me, and the thought of losing you scares me too." That brings a hopeful smile to his face. "Does that mean you'll stay?" He asks.

"Yes, Wonwoo." you return his smile. "I'Il stay as long as you want me to.”

𓂃۶ৎ

#jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #wonwoo fic #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x oc #svt fic #wonwoo smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #jeon wonwoo smut #svthub #smut #fluff #seventeen #wonwoo seventeen #wonwoo x y/n #wonwoo x you #svt

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guardians-ofthe-lastyoungkilljoy · 1 month ago

Text

i know the end - vettel

(gif not mine @usersewis)

pairing: sebastian vettel x reader

summary: Sebastian came into your life in 2015 and left in 2020 - but you fell in love with him and he just wanted a championship.

themes/warnings: alcohol, ANGST, no use of y/n, description of a panic attack, unrequited love, waxing poetic about ferrari - can you tell they're my fav team, kimi mentioned, charles is here too !! THIS IS FICTION

wc: 3.6k

a/n: someone on tumblr said that ferrari is a haunted house with a picket fence and i have never stopped thinking about it since. i have also never stopped thinking about sebastian vettel - subcategory of seb thoughts is seb in ferrari. also still open to do requests - trying out this whole fic writing thing. will also need help with organising my blog if anyone is keen :)

read on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/60713827

Sebastian joined Ferrari in 2015. The team were ecstatic to have the four time world champion join their ranks, determined to bring Ferrari back to its former glory.

You were working on the strategy team, fairly new but established enough to be listened to on the rare occasion.

You met Seb in the pre-season at his factory introduction. He made his speech, charming the floor with his near perfect Italian. He popped into the strategy meeting room during his tour, a war room that had become home for you with its laptops and papers spread out. Sebastian was the perfect gentleman, shaking hands with everyone, though you thought he may have held on a bit longer with you.

The season started soon after, the entire garage working overtime. You were given the opportunity to accompany the team at races, rather than being stuck at Maranello.This is how you became Sebastian’s favourite strategist.

You’re not exactly sure when it happened. You made a good strategy call in Malaysia, a well timed pit stop in Hungary and by Singapore, the lion knew your coffee order from the Ferrari cafeteria, ensuring to always pass you some before a long meeting.

Falling for Sebastian was drawn out, comprised of lingering greeting hugs, good conversation at team dinners, long nights at the factory and searing glances across foreign nightclubs.

You didn’t realise it for a while, and you wouldn’t realise it until it was too late. The attention you received was perhaps just part of Seb’s charm, and he had the whole motorsport world wrapped around his infamous finger.

2016 brought on a winless year for Ferrari, both Kimi and Sebastian unable to make it to that crucial top step.

You found Seb at the back of the Ferrari motorhome after a particularly tough race, hiding between tyre stacks. You overheard his PR team scrambling to find him - you slipped out to the back unnoticed, knowing exactly where he was.

The tyre stacks were sort of a shared place for you and Sebastian, free from the prying eyes of the world. The only person who knew about it was Sebastian’s head mechanic, who accidentally stumbled upon you two sharing champagne after a podium last year.

I’ll be there soon. Sebastian recognised your footsteps before even looking up.

You sat down beside him, trying to find the words while he absentmindedly played with his water bottle.

I’m sorr-

I don’t want to hear it.

Sebastian had never snapped at you. You knew the strategy calls were bad today, resulting in an ill timed pitstop and Sebastian falling through the other. This Seb, this was completely foreign to you.

Seb stood and left, sparing no further glance at you. It was a punch to your gut. Did he blame you? Drivers were always temperamental, that you knew, but Sebastian had always been nothing but kind and mature with you.

Your body went into autopilot mode, packing up what you can before the team debrief.

Sebastian barely spared you a glance as everyone settled in for the debrief. Perhaps a sign that he calmed down during media duties, but you knew better than to play detective with another man’s emotions.

Strategy seemed to be the biggest issue to tackle with your boss taking the lead. You half listened, taking notes occasionally until he mentioned your name.

One of the plans you brought up in pre-race meetings was bold and daring. It was entertained, but ultimately shoved aside for what ended up happening during the race. However after witnessing what happened in the race, it would have gained the team some higher positions.

Ferrari is a team, one where we win and lose together. Every aspect is just as important as each other. Admitting mistakes and learning for them is how the team gets stronger.

The strategy admission had Sebastian sneaking glances at you for the rest of the meeting. You felt it, but you weren’t exactly ready to forgive yet.

You returned to your home in Maranello without so much as another word to Sebastian. You were, however, greeted by a bouquet of peonies on your dining table, along with a note from the man you were so desperately trying not to think about.

By 7PM the same day, you and Seb were sharing a blanket on the couch and watching a romcom, having devoured pizza and now working your way through a giant bag of chocolate wafers.

Unfortunately, Seb knew the way to your heart. As you tucked yourself into bed that night, you realised that you never shared a conversation with him about Sunday and an even scarier thought, you had forgiven him.

2017 saw you and Sebastian grow even closer. Movie nights at your apartment became the norm and Seb often took you to dinner on race weekends, despite your protests that the dinners were too fancy. He had to spoil his favourite strategist would always be his response.

Sebastian returned to the top step of Monaco that year, the Italian anthem blaring across the track along with a chorus of devoted Tifosi. He sneaked off after the celebrations, pulling you with him to the tyre stacks, champagne bottle on the other hand.

Seb passed you the bottle and you took a large sip, pushing down the thought that his lips were on it mere moments ago.

Are you coming to the afterparty?

Yes, but I don’t have anything to wear?

No party dress packed? Ye of little faith.

You rolled your eyes and shoved the bottle back into his hands. The endless banter and teasing simultaneously made you forget about your feelings for Seb but also made you fall harder for him.

Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. He kissed your cheek and walked away.

Cheek kisses weren’t new for Seb, having evolved from greeting hugs long ago. But “take care of it”? Well, he better not be doing what you were thinking.

You returned to your hotel room to a large black box on your bed, an extravagant red bow tied around it with a handwritten note, definitely scrawled on by a tipsy Seb.

The box revealed a red dress, and on top of it, another small box. You opened it and out dangled a small necklace with a heart charm. Engraved on one side was the number 5. Sebastian.

Sebastian knocked on your door two hours later, dressed sharp and ready for the night ahead. He took you in, the dress he picked out was the perfect fit against your skin. There was however, one missing detail.

The necklace?

It’s a bit much, no?

Nonsense.

Sebastian walked into your room and spotted the necklace on the bed. He took it out of its pouch and motioned for you to stand in front of the mirror. He stood behind, putting the necklace on you. His fingers ghosted over your neck, raising the tiny hairs on your skin.

Team number 5.

Sebastian kissed the side of your head and his fingers trailed down your arm to grab your hand. You followed him out in a daze to the elevator.

The dim light of the elevator and Sebastian’s intoxicating cologne enveloping the cramped box. The elevator dinged, letting in more people. The sound woke you from whatever spell Sebastian cast. You counted down the floors until you had to leave the warmth of Sebastian’s side and his calloused hand around yours.

Ground floor. The air was clearer as you exited the bubble - reality. Because despite everything, Sebastian wasn’t yours. He is Ferrari’s. You are Ferrari’s. For now, sharing a home would be enough.

You never left Sebastian’s line of sight all night. Between partying with your girlfriends, sharing a drink with your boss and a few dances with Seb, the clarity in the haze of the club was Sebastian.

As the night began winding down, Sebastian approached you at a booth. He was holding a mystery drink and his pupils were blown wide. He began blabbering about something Kimi did, the Finn possibly to blame for Sebastian’s current state. You took one look at him and began arranging a cab back to the hotel.

You managed to drag a half asleep Sebastian back to his room. You sat him on the edge of the bed while you filled up a water bottle. You came back and found him spread eagle on the bed. At least he took his shoes off.

Goodnight Seb.

You were halfway out the room when you heard it.

I love you.

You froze. Looking back, you saw Seb snoring peacefully, hugging a pillow to his chest. No, he’s drunk and sleeping. It wasn’t for you. It could’ve been for his bed for all you cared for. It didn’t matter, despite your heart wishing it was for you.

2018 was another successful year for Ferrari. Sebastian came home with five wins that year, placing second in the drivers standings and Kimi in third. All in all, you were quite proud of the team’s efforts that year and you knew you could unlock more of that potential.

However, you could feel something bothering Sebastian. An itch that had been present all season. You had asked a few times, but Seb always insisted it was nothing. You knew Sebastian well enough by this point. You could read him, to an extent. But if he truly wanted to hide something, you would be helpless at getting it out.

Sebastian invited you to stay at his farm in Switzerland for a week during the winter break. You happily obliged, having not seen him since wrapping up in Abu dhabi. You could use the tranquillity of farm life for a bit.

Your days there were spent helping Sebastian with the animals. He taught you horse riding and you taught him baking. You let yourself get lost in that life, if just for a mere moment. Perhaps in some alternate universe, this was your home with him, that you weren’t only playing house for a week.

You and Sebastian were laying on the carpet in front of the fireplace, sharing a bowl of attempted smores. It was your last night there before you had to jet off back to Maranello to begin pre season work.

Seb got quiet, not exactly rare but it was different when something was on his mind.

Would you ever leave?

Leave where?

Ferrari.

No. Ferrari is home.

Sebastian hummed, adding nothing more but deciding to bite into another smore. A bit of chocolate dripped onto his chin. You chuckled and wiped it off with your thumb.

Besides, you don’t need to worry about that new French kid. You’re still my favourite, world champion.

Sebastian laughed, but you missed the melancholy in his eyes and the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

Being a Tifosi came with many highs and lows - any balding Italian man can tell you that. It was felt even more within the team, especially for Sebastian this year.

2019 saw the meteoric rise of Charles Leclerc, the predestined. He cemented his place as not only the future of Ferrari itself, but of the sport as well.

Charles was full of energy and light. You grew fond of the kid and it was nice to have his company amidst the turmoil surrounding the team that year.

You went into that year determined to get Sebastian his championship he so desperately craved. You were instead met by cheating rumours, bad calls, power shifting and well, an increasingly frustrated Sebastian.

Sebastian who has been chasing that championship feeling for years. Sebastian who bleeds Ferrari red. Sebastian who is determined to bring the team back to the top. Sebastian, who is not quite yours, but you devoted your red heart to.

Perhaps that’s how you ended up in this position.

Sebastian pulled you into his driver’s room after a race. The habit has raised a few eyebrows from passing crew, but none have said a word.

Nothing ever happened anyways.

Seb would sit you on his couch and you’d listen. Listen as he rambled in a heinous mix of German, Italian and English. Listen as he let out his emotions after a race and all the lows he went through that weekend.

You’d bring up some of these points to relevant crew members. It would be worked on and by the following race, it would be better. But it was never enough for Sebastian.

You understood, he was supposed to bring Ferrari back, follow in the footsteps of his mentor and hero. It was an immense pressure and responsibility that has been carried for years. Now, the Italians have put their faith in his teammate, throwing him aside like an old toy.

It was draining for you too, being subjected to this almost every weekend. It wasn’t your burden to bear, but this was Sebastian. He is still Rosso Corsa, and you weren’t one to deny a cry for help.

Singapore rolled around, one of Sebastian’s favourites. He crossed the line in first place that night. You haven’t been so happy in months.

Sebastian found you at your desk after media duties. You were still on the adrenaline high, but the tiredness began seeping back into your bones. You knew you weren’t sleeping well, the stress of the season getting to you and your eyes looked darker than ever. For Ferrari, the pain was always worth it.

Come out tonight.

Seb, I feel dead.

And the race winner is personally inviting you.

You could never resist him, which is how you have an extremely plastered Seb on your arm as you walk back to the hotel. Apparently being part of Team 5 also meant babysitting when he’s had one too many.

I LOVE FERRARI! I NEVER WANT TO LEAVE! FORZA FERRARI!

Sempre.

May 2020. F1 was still on the break. The only place you went was your home in Maranello and occasionally the factory. You hadn’t seen Sebastian in months and to be honest, you haven’t heard from him as much as you wanted to.

Then, the announcement. Sebastian Vettel to leave Ferrari by the end of the 2020 season.

It came as a shock to you. Seb’s contract was up for renewal, you knew that. But he never said anything about leaving, at least, not to your face. And to find out from Instagram, rather than from the man himself, that was a whole other issue.

You left several messages on Seb’s number over the next week, all remained unanswered. You knew he was a bit of a recluse sometimes, preferring quiet company over the glitz and glamour other drivers seemed to surround themselves with. Ignoring you however, that was unheard of.

You asked some of Seb’s mechanics, but none have heard from him. You even asked Charles, but all he received was a polite thank you message.

After a while, you gave up on contacting him. You knew better than to beg for a man’s attention, even Sebastian’s. It broke your heart to walk away, but you had to keep pushing and Ferrari needed to keep pushing.

Red Bull Ring, Austria. The first race back was a much quieter environment than what you’ve been used to. Despite wanting to stay in Maranello, mainly to stay safe but also to avoid a certain German, your boss wanted you at the races. Who were you to deny the call of the Prancing Horse.

You ignored him all weekend, refusing to make eye contact or be in his general presence at all. It was perhaps a bit petty, but you deserved to be after the last two months.

Charles placed P2, a great result from the team for the first race back. You chatted to him at your desk after the race. Charles was a young man that had raw talent, immense passion and was wise beyond his years. You were lucky to call him a friend.

Mid conversation, Charles glanced behind you. You knew exactly who was standing there, but he could wait his turn.

You finished up with Charles, giving him a hug before he left.

You stared at Seb standing awkwardly in the doorway. He shifted on his feet, for once not knowing what to say to you.

Please say something.

I have nothing to say to you. You’re the one who went radio silent for months.

I’m sorry.

You shook your head and looked away, not wanting him to see how much this affected you.

I didn’t know how to tell you.

Seb moved closer, stepping into your space. He reached out a shaky hand to yours. You gripped his, you couldn’t help it. A silent sob escaped your body.

Come with me.

You whipped around, searching his pleading eyes.

Come with me. To Aston Martin.

His other hand came up to the side of your head, cupping your cheeks and wiping away the tears on your cheek.

Come with me. I need you.

His hand brushed down the side of your neck, fingers finding the necklace he gifted all those years ago.

Team 5. That’s our home. Please.

Sebastian fiddled with the charm. He found the engraved 5 turned around, no longer facing outward like how you’ve always worn it.

You took Sebastian’s hand and pressed a tender kiss to it.

Ferrari is my home. I can’t come with you.

You dropped his hand and looked anywhere else but him. You couldn’t bear to see the tears welling in his eyes.

Please leave.

Sebastian walked out, hesitating at the door. He took a last look at you and left.

You let the cries come out. Every emotion you’ve kept the last few years came out in a tidal wave.

You felt an arm wrapping around your shoulders, recognising Charles’ hand. He helped you to the floor and let you lean against him.

I’m sorry.

You requested to be transferred to Maranello for the rest of the season, citing health concerns. The team was sad to see you go, many of them enjoying your company on long race weekends.

You only saw Sebastian in passing for the rest of the year, heard about him from mechanics, through strategy feedback and once from Charles. He knew not to press, but you didn’t miss the occasional flicker of sympathy from his eyes.

Sebastian came by the factory after the season ended, a formal goodbye to Ferrari. There was food and drinks passed around and some quick speeches made.

Sebastian was the last to come forward.

It has been my dream to race for the Scuderia since I was a boy. Here I stand now, as a Ferrari driver for six incredible seasons. It still feels like cloud nine everytime I get to walk into this beautiful place and be greeted by the passion from every single one of you. I thank you all for the hard work you’ve put in all these years.

Sebastian took a breath, as if hesitating on what to say next. You found yourself waiting, a small part of you hoping for him to say something, anything that would allow you to forgive him.

I want to say a special thank you to those who have been by my side. You know who you are. I know I haven’t always made it easy, and I am sorry for that. But I am eternally grateful for you.

Sebastian’s eyes found yours in the crowd. You found yourself fiddling with the necklace for comfort, forcing your eyes to hold back tears.

Thank you all. Forza Ferrari sempre.

The crowd erupted in cheers, applauding Seb as he made his way back into the crowd.

Your ears were ringing, vision blurry and the swell of the crowd was suddenly too much. Your feet relief on instinct, turning you around and leading you towards the exit.

A hand found your arm as you reached the lobby. Charles. The youngster took one look at you and said something about a car and to wait. Your body curled into a ball as you heaved.

This was it. Sebastian was leaving. Leaving Ferrari and the home you built in it, with him. And neither of you could muster the courage for a proper goodbye. What an irony, Ferrari who creates heroes and legends but two of their best and brightest are cowards with each other.

A sleek black Ferrari pulled up to the front. The rumble of the engine was enough to push yourself to stand and stumble your way to Charles who had opened the door for you.

You turned, taking a look at the building. Ferrari is always going to be home, but the people in it give it meaning. Sebastian left, and your sun set, but it will rise again soon.

You were at the door and hesitated for the briefest moment. That was enough for Sebastian to come running into the lobby.

You stood in the moonlight with windswept hair and teary eyes. From the distance, Sebastian could just make out the glimmer of the necklace he gave you all those years ago and the most important thought - you were still the most beautiful woman he ever got the chance to know.

He loved you. Loves you. It was real all along, not some drunken stupor that he convinced himself it was all those years ago, hiding because it would be easier than to let himself fall.

He understood. You were always by his side, and he was too late to notice it, much less be grateful for it. You can't forgive him now, and he’s caused too much harm. It would be selfish of him to keep you tethered.

He needs to let you go.

Sebastian nodded at you from his frozen place in the lobby. This is the end. You touched your hand to your heart, where your necklace fell. In another life.

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel angst #f1 angst #charles leclerc #kimi raikkonen #ferrari

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bridgetotheskyyy · 2 months ago

Text

Hiromi Higuruma; Wardrobe Malfunction

a/n: my first hiromi fic and it's for kinktober eeee! I love him. 18+ only. Hiromi fucks reader in courtroom and fucks reader from behind, wardrobe malfunction, dirty talk, hiromi is pretty smooth lol, reader's quite hard on herself. wc 2.0k

Kinktober Masterlist

You knew the blouse was a bad idea.

You were a goddamn fool. Why had you waited so long to do laundry? So you could shuffle into court, more court jester than lawyer, and astonish everyone with your messiness. You’d rolled out of bed this morning only to find all of your work clothes, save some slacks and your current blouse, crowded in the washing machine. Because of your negligence, you had no other shirts to wear but the ill-fitting hand-me-down courtesy of your sister’s you adorned now.

You made it to court, but just barely. You couldn’t disappoint Higuruma, the man you were shadowing — but maybe it would’ve been better had you stayed home; giggles and chuckles followed you all throughout the proceedings. Higuruma had gestured to you to bring him something pertinent to his defense. You raised to the occasion, reaching out an arm.

“Here you go, Mr. Higu —“

You felt the buttons of your blouse snap, revealing your pink bra underneath —

You yelped, withdrawing your arm from a wide-eyed Higuruma to shield yourself. Thunderous laughter followed your plop back down in your chair.

“All right, enough,” said the judge among the raucous laughter.

But giggles persisted regardless, albeit fainter after his order. They came to an end when and only when Higuruma offered you his suit jacket soon after.

After it was over, you were red in the face. Notes full of messy penmanship sat in your jiggling lap. You felt close to crying.

“It’ll be all right,” Higuruma said, ever the gentleman. He came over to you as people in the courtroom cleared out. “The prosecution probably didn’t even see —“

“Oh, spare me!” You ran a hand over your ruddy face, felt tears well up in your eyes. “I looked like an idiot today and you know it!”

I looked like an idiot in front of you, too.

A blink and Higuruma had a hand around your recessed shoulders. He pulled your hand away from your face. “Look at me.”

You obeyed, blinking miserably up at him. “Mr. Higu —“

“Enough with the pleasantries,” Higuruma said. “Call me Hiromi.”

A flutter danced in your chest despite your misery. “Hiromi …”

But he wasn’t looking in your eye anymore, his gaze having dropped down to your chest currently still covered by his jacket.

“I believe they laughed because they’re jealous,” Hiromi said. “That gorgeous figure of yours …”

You were red now for very different reasons. “I …” You trailed. “What do you mean?”

Tentatively, Hiromi brought his hand to shy away the front of his jacket. Your ruined shirt was exposed again, along with hints of your cherry-blossom bra. “I,” he said, voice husky, “like how you look in my jacket …”

“Hiromi …” You were astounded, felt an instinctive need to cover yourself again before Hiromi shed his jacket from your shoulders.

“But, I think I’d prefer it if you wore nothing …”

This was insane. What was happening? In your pregnant pause, Hiromi leaned forward and captured your lips — gently at first, for you startled at the suddenness of it all — and held your chin in his palm.

The unreality of it all kept you rooted on the spot, but your shock had to rival the touch of Hiromi’s kiss. It melted away; your body reacted so fluidly to his gentle yet insistent touch, and the kiss that grew more peremptory by the second.

“This is inappropriate,” You said in between kisses. You shivered at Hiromi’s hand slipping past the lace of a bra cup. “We — oh — could get …”

“It’s okay,” Hiromi murmured. “There’s no one else here after all …”

But this was a courtroom. Surely the two of you wouldn’t be alone for long. What would they think to see Hiromi Higuruma fondling his apprentice?

But your concerns dissipated when Hiromi’s thumb flicked at a nipple, his tongue simultaneously swiping at the roof of your mouth before coaxing your own tongue into further play.

“Oh, fuck …” You pressed into him, your groin knocking into the hard shell of his knee.

With a soft grunt Hiromi withdrew, but barely, his lips teasingly close to your own. You could just lean forward and … “You’re right; we should be quick about this.” He increased the distance; you glanced at his tie, disheveled and barely hanging on to his collar. Did you do that? “Stand up …”

You did so. He followed you, towering over your frame as he maneuvered behind you, fingers grazing over the hem of your skirt.

“What are you …?”

He paused when you glanced behind you, the ghostly, seductive touch at your thighs disappearing. “I was …” Hiromi’s gaze angled downwards. “Unless you don’t want me to …”

Your attention flickered from Hiromi to the double doors that could open at any moment. Your doubts returned, but it was like a fork of lightning, a flash of a reason, felt and then gone. You tugged Hiromi by his wrangled tie and gave him another kiss. He groaned when you gave a challenging nibble on his bottom lip.

“You —“ You stammered when you drew away, but not before leaving a parting kiss on his nose. “You should make it worth it, okay?”

Hiromi gave you a soft smile. “I intend to.”

And you turned back around to the feel of him pressing into you. You sighed, angling your ass against his hard dick, as Hiromi’s lips reconnected with your skin, this time loving your neck with heated kisses. He hiked your skirt up before weaving his hand to cup your cunt.

You moaned, your head falling back as Hiromi’s much bigger frame surrounded you. His index and forefinger teased your lips through the fabric, spurred on by your sighs.

“Such inappropriate choice of underwear …” Hiromi’s lips grazed your ear. He shifted the center of your panties away and began stroking your folds in slow circles.

“Oh, fuck, Hi —“

“Almost like you planned all of this.” His voice was right in your ear, his fingers now cornering your clit and pressing into the tight nub. “Maybe it wasn’t an accident after all …”

“No …”

“Maybe flashing your tits is just how you get off —“

“No, I swear!” Your voice was impassioned as Hiromi abandoned the act of teasing your cunt to slide down your panties. Content with the garment hanging around your knees, he hiked your skirt higher.

Despite being nearly fully clothed, his hands made you feel naked, and they were everywhere; kneading your thighs, your ass, swiping at your clit again before a hand finally settled at the small of your back to incline you forward. You placed hands on the bench to the suspicious sound of a buckle being undone, the descent of a zipper …

“Oh …”You hung your head when Hiromi’s cock slid past your slick folds and back again, rubbing your juices onto his shaft to both tease and test your wetness.

“You’re perfect, you know?” he murmured from behind. “You’re excruciatingly pretty…”

You closed your eyes against the warmth of his admission, your face redden at the praise. “I never knew you thought so …”

“Who couldn’t?”

The tightness in your chest, always present, lessened to know your crush had been reciprocated all this time.

“Aaah …!” Hiromi’s cockhead brushed against your clit, followed by a chuckle from him at your restless writhing. “Hiromi, fuck, please …”

“Hm?” Hiromi caressed the junction of your thigh and ass, petting the skin there. He was rocking into you now, brushing his cock through the tight space between your legs.

“Please,” You begged. “Please, c — c’mon —“

Hiromi kissed into your rolling shoulder blades, deciding to leave a trail of them over the span of your upper back. “But this is inappropriate.”

“I don’t care!” You were shuddering now, rocking back as Hiromi rocked causally into you — but not into you. You truly didn’t care; if you didn’t have Hiromi’s cock soon you would surely go insane. Your writhing accomplished nothing worth mentioning. Growing madder by the second, you had half a mind to rub your clit if you didn’t also sense Hiromi would swat your hand away from your snatch. “I need you, just, please, fuck —“

Another kiss, this time at your neck. “Of course.”

The presence of his cock disappeared, and you were left to wrestle with the intimacy of that parting kiss before he buried himself inside of you seconds later.

“Fuck …” Hiromi took hold of your hips, simultaneously keeping you steady as he saw fit to fill you to the brim with his impressive length. “You feel even better than I —“

You moaned as Hiromi buried his face in your neck, his nose smooshed against your pulse. His hand freed one of your tits to fondle. Another thrum of pleasure sang throughout you to know he’d thought of this before. One hand fixed still on your hips, he snapped his hips into you, skin rippling from the thrust. You yelped, bit your lip against the pleasure.

“Oh my god …” You squeezed your eyes shut against the assault of senses: Hiromi’s discipline failed him as his thrusts quickened. You were in love with the long drag of his cock. You seized the railing, needing something to squeeze as much to hold on to. Hiromi resumed making out with your neck while his other hand’s fingers busied themselves tormenting your pebbled nipple. “Fuckfuckfuck, Hiromi, please …!“

Hiromi’s moans mingled with yours. His hand had abandoned your tit and was traveling upwards, long fingers grazing your neck —

“Hiromi!” You clenched around him, sure he was set to choke you.

“Nrgh!” Hiromi’s fingers trembled against your lips instead. Both his hands were gone from your hips now — not like you needed his help fucking yourself back on him — with one’s new position shoving your panties down farther and fingering your clit.

“God, it feels so good, so —“ You choked as the combination of his cock and fingers were becoming too much to bear. You sucked his fingers into your mouth, resisting the urge to bite down hard on the offered digits. Hiromi’s sounds of utter pleasure at your ear told you he wasn’t going to last, which only added to your pleasure, making you convulse around him a second time —

Hiromi breathed out your name in utter adoration. “Where do you want it?” he rasped, pistoning into you now. “Tell me where you want me to — aargh —“

“I — in —“ You lurched over the bench, losing yourself to him. His balls slapped against your clit, fulfilling the much needed friction when his fingers grew too lax. “Inside, yes, god, please —!”

Hiromi had enough clarity remaining to ask, voice breathy, “You sure?”

You had no choice; wherever Hiromi received his strength from it was enough to topple you over the edge. His hips swerved a particular way, and with it your mouth fell open, lost in the feel of his fingers circling your clit and his cock spearing you again and again. Hiromi’s groan roared loud in your ears, but you could make no sense of anything as you rode out your high.

“Fuck, I’m — fuck —“ You felt Hiromi’s cock inside you, and with a few more sloppy thrusts he was coming, muffling his cries in your neck.

With effort, you fucked yourself back on him, brain full of cotton, until Hiromi had the sense to pull out of you, lest you drove him into another state of arousal. He braced himself on the bench beside you, catching his breath as you did.

His gaze dropped to your mangled bra, still stuck on you. “It’s a very nice bra, you know.”

You shot him a sheepish smile. “You can have it. I’ve got ones I like a lot more.”

“If that’s true, I’d like to see them.”

You set to redress yourself, blushing under his appraisal. “Thanks for not laughing at me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said sincerely.

Once your skirt was set right, you unclasped your bra and offered it to him, your other arm dipping forward to retrieve his jacket.

Hiromi blinked, stunned by your sudden moxy. He held up the bra with two fingers, his face tinted pink. “I didn’t think you’d actually give it to me.”

You kissed him on the cheek. “Want the blouse, too?”

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #hiromi smut #higuruma smut #hiromi x reader #higuruma x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader

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confessioncivilization · 23 days ago

Note

ive said this on another confession blog but uhh i still think about it

I think sharing food is a common love language for the noobs. Like?? Youre literally giving up your ration for the day for another person?? How romantic is that!!! And even if it isnt romantic, it builds a sense of camaraderie because food is practically the only gift that's worth giving to a fellow noob, ESPECIALLY if it's beef

I wanna imagine that in a revived seawatt au (i love seamavbo soz) EMF and Seawatt found out about Evbo's bday and they decided to make him a cake. Although gift giving is like, a really rare occasion because the Masters were constantly against each other and no one was really close enough to be considered friends, Evbo had changed the lives of these two. For better or worse? It depends on who you ask

They had to be really sneaky and secretive. They don't know if Evbo is currently watching them or not, so it was a teensy bit stressful. Eventually, they managed to get the ingredients to craft a cake (dont ask how theyre getting sugars, uhh emf probly expanded the agriculture after he messed around w the command blocks or somthn idk)

And when they finally presented Evbo with his bday cake? There was a short moment where he lacked a reaction. Seawatt and EMF shared worried glances. Did they do something wrong? Does Evbo not like the cake?? But then, Evbo smiled and his eyes started getting glassy with tears, before this turned into full on sobbing, though it honestly sounded more like he's laughing.

Evbo didnt even remember his bday, and yet these two did?? And they even made him a cake???

He was laughing while trying to wipe the tears that was continuously building up in his eyes. He apologized, this was such a weird thing to cry about. EMF and Seawatt's reaction though? They're just confused, they thought he would act more smug about it. But it's okay. It's okay to Evbo that these two would never understand just how much this means to him. Being the 2 closest people that he's got here, he already appreciated them a lot. His mind was often still stuck in the noob level and its culture, and he couldnt just get rid of this way of thinking

Eventually, his tears died down enough that he could form coherent sentences. They sat around the cake and shared slices. And Evbo couldnt stop smiling, like, genuinely smiling. He had the biggest grin and was giggling a lot while talking to EMF and Seawatt

and uhh

omg i swear i didnt intend to yap they make me ill and my fingers just kept on typing

GH OH MY GOD I DONT REGRET READING THE WHOLE THING THIS IS SO COOL OMG

#parkour civilization #evbo #evbo’s master friend #seawatt #mmm do i tag this as polykour or nah…#mmmmmmm sure. I’ll do the individual ones too #polykour #seavbo #mavbo #this is such a cute concept omg i’d love a full fic about this

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cheesecakeluver · 2 months ago

Text

AT FIRST GLANCE

hamzahthefantastic x reader

ᶻ𐰁 ࣪ °⋆ when you arrive in Toronto, after three years from home, you meet with your close friend Mandy, who has a visitor that you know, at first glance, is bound to be yours.

———————-

As the taxi slows, i find that my stomach turns and churns in excitement. The idea that now, after three years, ill see Mandy again, after being apart for so, so long, enthralls me. We constantly facetimed and messaged after i had to move, for work purposes. Los Angeles was a great city, but once you really got settled and started to understand life there.. it made you miserable. Thankfully, my work as a journalist had moved me back to Toronto, and i could finally see my friends and family.

I retrieve my heavy suitcases from the boot of the car, thanking the driver and sending him away with a twenty dollar bill. I don't think i'll ever get over the price differences between Canada and the USA. I stand outside Mandy's place, which she shared with her boyfriend, Martin. Of course, i'd heard all about him, because as soon as i moved away, they met. She updated me on every date, every exciting occasion, and every detail of their lives together, including his youtube channel, whom he shared with a friend unknown to me, though Mandy constantly called him clingy and annoying, which left me laughing.

I knock on the door, one, twice, and then thrice. I see a figure moving towards the door, and i get excited, recording the whole moment with an old camera. I'd recently started youtube myself, and had had a good amount of luck, my first two videos not exactly blowing up, but doing pretty well for my first time. I see the figure head towards the door, and i shove the camera in front of me, my smile wide, grinning even.

The figure opens the door, and i'm stunned. It was in fact, not Mandy i was met with, who stood at 5,4. No, this was a nearly six foot tall, dark curly haired man, who looked like he'd just gotten out of bed.

"Uh.. who are you?" he mumbled, wiping his dark curls out of his face, pushing his rectangular glasses up on the bridge of his nose, his chocolate brown eyes widening as he stared deadpan at me.

i pull the camera down to my side, revealing my face as my smile drops. i stutter a little, taking a step back. Had i went to the wrong address?

"Does Mandy live here?" i asked nervously, my concern become increasingly evident on my face. I was never good at hiding my emotions.

"Oh, yeah. She said something about someone coming over today. Just didn't mention who." The man said, his eyebrows unfurling as the confusion fled his face, allowing me to view him more. He was attractive, and even i couldn't deny that, as i stared into his dark eyes. The worry wiped off my face as he opened the door wider, allowing me to step into the home, where Mandy was snuggled into Martin's side, a blanket over them on the couch, as i heard the nostalgic theme of 'Gilmore Girls' playing on the tv.

I smile, leaving my bags by the door as i hear Mandy ask whose at the door, until her eyes land across me. She screams, ditching Martins arms and she runs to me, hugging me and jumping with glee spread across her face. I hold her in my arms, happily.

"I've been waiting for you to arrive!" she says, pulling away from the embrace, still smiling so hard i believe it must hurt. "That's Hamzah, by the way, the one who answered the door. He's the one who does the podcast, and youtube with Martin" She explains, babbling on about what the boys did. I listened eagerly, intrigued, as she told me about this podcast, which i'd never known of before. She asks me how i am, knowing how hard Los Angeles hit me, leaving me emotionally drained.

"I'm excited to be back in Toronto, really. I've been wanting to come back ever since i left. Los Angeles was.. alright at first, but god, once you really get settled, and begin actually connecting.." i sigh, drifting off. The people that inhabited Los Angeles, were just not the people i was made for, and oh how glad i was to be back in Toronto. Back home. I look around, impressed at the new house they'd just moved in to, which now looked like a home due to the decorum, as i see dinner bowls lying around.

Martin cleans them up, putting them in the sink and introducing himself. "Sorry, we just ate.. probably should've cleaned that up earlier." he jokes, wrapping an arm around Mandy.

The whole time, the boy i know now as Hamzah had just been by the door, his keys in hand. i came to the conclusion he must have just been heading out when i arrived.

He jingles the keys in his hand, grabbing my attention. He looks a little nervous, his eyes darting around. "I'm gonna head out, it was good meeting you.." he says, finally looking at me, smiling, his hands in his pockets. He lingers on, and i catch the hint he wanted my name.

"Oh, y/n" i smiled, a little flustered as his eyes remained steady on me, a glint in them. I found myself drawn to him, even though this was our first meeting.

Mandy turns to me, Martins arm still wrapped around her. "We were just going out, for ice cream, if you wanted to join us?" she smiles at me, Martins arm rubbing hers and he stared at her, entranced.

I think about it, but ultimately decide against it, as i had ate the shitty food served on the airplane, and felt as though my stomach deserved a break after. That, and i wasn't in the mood to become a third wheel, especially as jet lagged as i was.

"I need to sort through the boxes as well, get my apartment into living conditons, but thank you guys, i appreciate it." i say, thanking the couple in front of me.

"Call me tomorrow though, we'll meet up then?" i ask, and Mandy nods, smiling. "Of course! Im so, so happy your home. Atleast now i've got someone to hang out with when these two are filming. Ooh, and maybe even double dates, and-"

Hamzah coughs loudly, interrupting her, and their eyes land on each other, and something, almost like realisation, hits Mandy.

I look between the pair, an awkward silence filling the room, as the four of us just looked at our feet.

I knew Hamzah had been there a couple of times when i had been facetiming Mandy, as i heard him and Martin in the background, but i never thought anything of it.

I pull my phone out, prepared to call another taxi, and head out of here, as i gather my bags and suitcase by the door.

"Anybody know how much a taxi from here to Parkson street costs?" i ask, breaking the silence

Martin speaks up immediately, as if snapping out of a trance.

"Hamzah, don't you live near Parkson street?" he asks the boy, who averts his gaze from mine, eyes focused now on Martin, as a pink blush cascades over his caramel skin, slightly covered by the messy curls strewn on top of his head.

"Yeah, i live on Parkson street" He replies, and i see Martin wink at him, before he speaks again.

"Oh, okay yeah, do you need a ride?" Hamzah says, eyes on mine as i see his hands fiddle inside of his pockets, causing me to smile.

"Yeah.. thank you. Really, your helping me out a a lot here." i blush slightly as he helps me with a couple of my bags, and our hands brush together, my face heating up, as does his.

"Really, you don't have to-" i say, prepared to take the bag, as he shakes his head in defiance, which leaves me to sigh, smiling as i do.

"I could see you struggling when you first arrived, let me help you" He says, picking the bags i struggled with up easily, impressing me as his biceps bulged whilst doing the action, causing me to stare.

Martin interrupts us, as he begins saying his farewells to Hamzah. I make my way over to Mandy, one last time, knowing ill meet her tomorrow.

"Call me tonight, and tell me everything" she says, with that knowing look in her eye, causing me to softly chuckle as i embrace her again.

We part ways with Mandy and Martin, saying goodbye to the pair as they began to get ready to get dessert. I smile at the couple as i leave with Hamzah, wishing i had the type of relationship they had, watching them laugh and cuddle and kiss. In my dreams i guess.

As Hamzah walks me to his car, we begin small talk. He asks about my life back in Los Angeles, and i tell him about my journalism and my small channel, as he told me of his podcast. He seemed passionate about it, using his hands as he spoke, and all i could do was become entranced by him. I had met this boy less than twenty minutes ago, yet already he had caught me attention, and by the looks of it, i had caught his.

"I originally started the podcast by myself, and did around.. i think thirty or so episodes before Martin joined. Honestly, its much better when your not just speaking by yourself, to a camera." He explained, hooking me in with every word he uttered.

"I guess i can kind of understand. When i film, so far, its always been by myself. My job as well, it gets lonely, because journalism isn't a very.. i don't know.. social type of job. Sure, I sit and write about all the things i love, but sometimes i just wish i had someone to talk to about my interests, instead of people just reading my words via a news outlet, or magazine."

i let out my thoughts, feeling slightly vulnerable when doing so. Hamzah watches me talk, allowing me to explain what's on my mind, and for the first time in a long time, i feel seen.

"Listen, i know we just met, but honestly, i feel like i know you already. I'm here if you ever need someone to talk to, even if its just about the stupid stuff." He says, a little shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as he speaks. I find myself walking close beside him, and we continue talking back and forth, all the way to his car.

Once we reach his car, he opens the door for me, and just when i'm strapped in, does he make his way to the drivers side, causing a feeling of warmth to erupt in my stomach.

Getting in, he sets his phone on my lap, smiling. "Since your a guest, i'll trust you to pick something good" he says, as i notice spotify opened infront of me.

It nearly made me melt, as i saw his recent listens. "Men i trust, Freddie Dredd, The maria's.. you have good taste" i smile, seeing some artist that we have in common.

I see him smile warmly, staring at the phone as i type my favourite song in, hoping, no, praying he would like it.

"Bags by Clairo.. you have good taste" He replies, copying me, as the song begins to filter through the car, and i hum lightly to it.

entranced by the music, and the feeling of content flowing through me, i rest my head against the window, taking in autumnal Toronto in all its beauty, realising just how much i had missed this place.

I feel Hamzah's eyes on me, and i turn to him, a grin erupting from me without my consent, as his curls fall into his eyes, and his hands mark the wheel.

We continue the rest of the ride in silence, the only thing heard is Clairo's majestic voice through the speakers, and both of us are okay with that. Upon arriving at Parkson street, i feel a little disappointed, missing Hamzah's banter and voice already, even though we hadn't parted from each other yet. I needed to get a grip on myself.

We get out, still walking close to each other, our arms brushing against one anothers, and begin walking back to our apartments, noticing we both strode in the same direction.

"Hamzah, what apartment number is yours? Not to be a creep or anything.." i joke, seeing his eyes light up.

"I'm 112.. what about you?"

I feel myself smile, pink flushing my cheeks, and not just due to the autumn chill in the air. We stop outside of his apartment, and he sees where my gaze lies, his cheeks flushing as well.

"I'm apartment 113” i say, grinning, our proximity exciting me like nothing before. maybe, just maybe this meant i did have a chance. endless excuses we’re running through my mind, thinking of ways i could interact with him on the daily.

He smiles, walking me to my door and setting the suitcases and bags in my doorstep, his cheeks tinted pink, and his eyes on me the entire time, looking me up and down with ease.

He smiles at me, one last time. "I'll see you around, y/n" he says, walking the two paces to his apartment, next door. My heart fluttered, and the minute i go inside of my new apartment, i jumped on the bare mattress, not caring about the unboxed suitcases and bags, picking up my phone and dialing my best friend.

"Mandy, i think i’m starting to like him."

---------------

#hamzah fluff #hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah x reader #hamzah imagines #martin and hamzah #hamzah fic #hamzahsmut #hamzah angst #tumblr fyp

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dyns33 · 7 months ago

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In the stars and the Book

So people wanted a new Dream of the Endless story for today. I hope you will like it !

It was rare for Destiny to give advice.

For several good reasons, which his family understood well, even if they were sometimes annoyed or disappointed that he did not break the rules to help them in difficult times.

His interventions were never really his doing, but permitted by his Book, if not obligatory.

More than any other member of the Endless, Destiny was fully and entirely his function. He loved his siblings though.

He always showed a small, almost imperceptible smile when he had the opportunity to help his family, who always listened attentively.

This time, Dream was the lucky one who received a call from Destiny's gallery.

Of course he was going to answer, it was part of his responsibilities. He'd had some problems since the Magnus had captured him, freed himself, gotten his tools back, rebuilt his kingdom, and ever since he'd felt a little empty.

His brother's call could be excellent news, or the start of new troubles. But he was going to answer anyway.

As always, Destiny greeted him quickly, not leaving his book and not clearly answering his questions. This was not what was supposed to happen.

Then, when Dream was calmer, he finally looked at him.

��Y/N.”

"The witch ? What about her ?"

“You will know happiness, true happiness, until your end, after she gives you a kiss.”

Morpheus remained stoic as he knew how to do so well, despite the storm that was brewing within him. The people of the Dreaming must have been totally panicked, even if they were used to their creator being quite upset after an encounter with any Endless other than Death.

“Goodbye, little brother.” was the last thing Destiny said, already turning his back on him, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

His relationship with Y/N had always been complicated. They had almost killed each other the first time they spoke. A real disaster. But she was still young, while he had yet to learn patience and empathy.

No doubt he was also too romantic, since he no longer even remembered the reason for their argument, but only her eyes full of passion, her hand on his cheek when she had the audacity to slap him, her perfume when she had vanished into thin air, vowing never to see him again.

They had seen each other again, several times, without ever doing it on purpose, as if fate was doing everything for them to end up together.

Over time, their exchanges had become more cordial, almost friendly. Dream had to recognize that Lucienne, Hob, his sister, many people had helped him a lot to realize the value of this little witch, who had also helped him on many occasions.

Yet he never thought he would feel love for Y/N. Admiration, affection, a need to protect her, but love ? Dream had often been in love. At least he thought he was.

It was true that each of his relationships had ended like shooting stars, passing very quickly, before burning and disappearing into nothingness.

His big brother had just revealed to him the secret of a certain, infinite happiness, a happiness that he seemed to deserve against all expectations, he who had ended up thinking that he was made to remain alone. There was no reason to hesitate.

Y/N clearly had some hesitations.

Despite his many advances, he still didn't seem to know that it was not proper for mortals to appear in a living room uninvited or unannounced.

First misstep, because it was not by scaring his sweetheart that he was going to succeed in seducing her. The poor thing even asked him what she had done, convinced that he was coming to punish her.

“I’m not here for ill reasons.” he tried to reassure her. "I needed to see you. It's been a long time, I forgot how beautiful you were, χαρα μου."

"… Is everything okay ? You need a spell and you're hoping it'll be for free ? You know, I heard what happened to you. It's not pity at all, but maybe I can lower my prices for you this time."

"Your concern touches me. But I don't need anything except you. I think we could be happy together."

"Wow. Okay, you're dying."

He was going to have to use all his wooing skills to get her to kiss him.

Certainly he could have kissed her, here, right away, but his brother had been clear. It was she who had to give him this liberating kiss.

Even though Dream was now sure of his feelings, Y/N probably needed a little more time. She hadn't received Destiny's advice.

Despite all his many improvements since his release, patience had never been Dream's strong point. Yet he was literally the expectation, the hope, all the ideas, the stories, the fantasies of humanity. Not getting the promised happiness right away shouldn't have bothered him so much.

Plus, beginnings were always the most exciting part. Observe Y/N responding positively to his advances, his compliments, his gifts. However, she remained suspicious, expecting a game or a disguised exchange of good behavior.

The witch set traps for him, to reveal his true intentions. The master of nightmares found this charming and amusing at first. Then Morpheus was a little hurt and exasperated that she didn't seem as infatuated with him as he was with her.

"… You say you love me ?"

"Indeed."

"Since when ? The last time we parted, I stole several of your books and you threatened to hang me. Fortunately your librarian likes me. I returned the books to her by the way. I don't t think we can be together, we'll end up tearing each other's heads off."

"It has to happen though. Destiny said we were meant to be together."

"… What ?"

The news did not please the little witch at all. She was making fun of him, but she wasn't necessarily having a bad time. Their arguments had become like a form of dance, a nuptial ritual.

Why did he always have to ruin everything ? He, the prince of stories, really had a problem with his choice of words.

He tried to hold her back, explaining that what his brother said had to happen, it wasn't his fault.

Seeing the tears in her eyes silenced him. The last thing he wanted to be hurt her, this vision pierced his heart.

"I can't believe I could be so stupid."

"You don't understand… We can be happy, together. Love each other."

"No. I loved you. And I thought maybe you loved me too, finally. But you're here out of obligation, like always. I never want to see you again ! I'm serious this time !"

There was no spell in the world that could hide a being thinking of Dream of the Endless. Those who thought always ended up dreaming, entering his kingdom.

Yet he left her sleep in peace, the rare times Y/N closed her eyes, trembling every night at the idea of finding him in her dreams.

He wondered if she was right. If he only chased after her because his brother had put him on this path, and not by choice. By feeling. It was true that he hadn't asked himself the question before Destiny called him, and he had rushed straight to the front of his happiness.

Now that he was fully taking the time to think about it, knowing that the witch had loved him in silence all this time, that he had hurt her, that she deserved better than that, he thought that he had undoubtedly always loved her more than the others.

He loved her so much that he kept his distance, because everyone he wanted ended up leaving him, suffering, or dying. And he didn't want that for her, never for her. His tender Y/N, brave, intelligent, lively little witch. Who treated him normally, standing up to him without fear, making him see his missteps.

A whole week passed, before he showed up at her place, this time knocking on the door and waiting for it to open.

He raised his hand in a peace sign as soon as their eyes met, making no move to try and enter.

"χαρα μου… I'm sorry. For my behavior, and for my presence here, when you clearly expressed your hatred for me. But I owed you this apology, and as punishment, I agree not to see you again. Thus, I condemn myself to never knowing happiness, which I do not deserve after all. My brother did not say that you could not be happy with another. Just know that I loved every moment spent with you, and I will cherish them until the end. If it wasn't happiness, it looked like it."

"… Is this a ruse to get me to fall under your spell again ?"

"No. I still find it hard to believe that you could have loved a being such as myself. I don't think I would have ever imagined it, even in my wildest creations. My brother must have known, he who knows all."

"Hob says you're a sweet fool, full of pride, but with just as much kindness, fear and humanity deep down."

“I will have to think about visiting my dear friend very soon.” Dream said while keeping a stoic face.

This made Y/N laugh. Her magnificent laugh, accompanied by a smile that she gave him too rarely. He would populate the nights of many dreamers tonight.

But for now, Morpheus wondered if he was awake, seeing her continue to smile at him, placing her hand on his cheek. They had never touched each other like this, not once, since their first meeting.

"Don't sulk, it wasn't a criticism. I knew I could only love you when he assured me that you weren't as terrible as you showed yourself. A facade, necessary because of your status."

“I’m not sulking, I’m not…”

The kiss was quick. Morpheus would remember it until his sister took the whole universe with her. Those lips on his. All this love, for him, all this time, contained in a simple kiss.

He remained as still as a marble statue, which made her smile again. Then Y/N kissed him on the cheek this time, whispering that they could go to the New Inn for a drink, before closing the door.

"… Boss ?"

“Yes Matthew ?”

"You've been here for three hours, people on the street are starting to notice you. Are you going to stay long ?"

“Until my love came out and we went to the New Inn for a drink.”

"Yeah, I don't know if your brother helped you or not, but if the witch finds it cute and not creepy, that will be proof that you two are indeed meant to be together."

Y/N found this both creepy and adorable. The poor raven returned to the Dreaming with a sigh to announce the great news, although the bright sky was not unwelcome.

It was very often a magnificent weather in the future, and until the end.

#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless fanfiction #morpheus fanfiction #morpheus imagine #dream of the endless imagine

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senbbonzakura · 8 months ago

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hii!! don't be shy posting anythin, that's cool when new people appear who write south park stuff! 🤍 can i request (f!reader) picnic headcannons with kenny, stanley and kyle? it can be platonic or romantic(sure, aged up), idc

sure!! thank u sm for being my first headcannons req anon !! 🤍 ill try my best with these bc i never was on a picnic so i have to use my imagination on how it works.. also i made this romantic, theyre like 17-18 here

⋆ PICNIC WITH MAIN 3 :

✩ — STAN !

this guy was so flattered when u asked him to go do a picnic with u

he was so excited he couldnt sleep

brought cookies and dr pepper...

its because he was walking around the store for like 30 minutes in denial of what would you like to eat 😭😭

like.. will u like it? what if youre picky? mostly everyone likes cookies so cookies it is

butttttt he brought money to the picnic too in case you need something

he picks a nice outfit for himself!!

and by that i dont mean a suit or anything like that... its just a tee that you once said you liked and his fav baggy jeans

so nervous before meeting u for the picnic. mostly bc of the food. what if youre not happy with the food he brought☹️

he brought a picnic blanket too tho!!

he tries to settle it himself but its sort of windy and he drops the blanket...

it flies away

but dw luckily he got it!!

he tries to settle it ahain but DONT trust him with that bc its gonna fly away again so help him pls😭

once its all settled he tries to make it romantic somehow?? he doesnt know how to be romantic without it being corny tho😕

so he just passes u everything u ask for!!

totally did not put the picnic basket next to himself on purpose..

with stan its mostly just giggles and stuff. he will hold your hand or hug you there and there but he enjoys just talking with you like he would with a best friend, if you know what i mean??

he kisses your cheek and thanks you for all the effort you put in everything <3

✩ — KYLE !

he suggests the picnic 🤗

kyle is the most organized one of them all

before the picnic he knows what to bring and what food you like

like what??? how did he know that?? did he put cameras around ur house or smth

or maybe ur parents just like him a lot so they told him stuff..

keeps checking if he has everything

he also brings you a flower!!

hes a gentleman😭

somehow manages to settle the blanket himself??

he also picked the perfect time of the day so it would be sunset

puts sm effort in to show you how much he loves you!! hes so sweet

brought like a backup hoodie for you just in case youre cold😕

he doesn't really like touching you in public, so expect a hug and a kiss from him only after it gets darker after the sunset

or if he thinks no one is watching

ike definitely wanted to go with you two

kyle said no

he wants it to be a moment just for you and him

ike still comes along with sheila "on accident" but for like a few minutes bc kyle begged them to leave you two alone😭

HE WAS SO EMBARRASSED THAT HIS MOM CAME TOO💔

he apologizes to you

its not like hes embarrassed bc of sheila, its just the fact that his MOM came, if u get what i mean

what more can i say?

besides that its all perfect !!

✩ — KENNY !

you suggest the picnic

he thought abt it before and wanted to ask you too but money... 😕

he immediately said yes and saved money just for that occasion

he knows what food u like

its because usually when you two hang out he randomly asks you stuff like "whats your fav food?" in that case

and he remembers every answer u give him🤗🤗

he brought food and you brought the blanket

he actually made sure to bring enough for the two of you

thats so sweet😕

he doesnt gaf abt public, he will show his love to you everywhere

so he has his arm wrapped around you most of the time

and also kisses your shoulder or cheek sometimes !!

he would do the rizz thing with "hey you have something there" while pointing at ur chest and then he would grab ur chin so u look at him and he kisses u

its just a joke tho😭

thats not a great way to flirt in his opinion

he would also chuckle before kissing u !!

sweeeeeeeet

after the picnic he offers to walk you to your home <3

he also holds your hand while walking

when youre about to leave he hugs you and thanks you for everything too🤗

fill my requests up guys!!

#south park x y/n #south park x you #south park x reader #south park #stan marsh x y/n #stan marsh x you #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh #kyle broflovski x y/n #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick x y/n #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick

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theangelsheardyou · 1 year ago

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In the mood for some angst? Here's some bsd men x terminally ill reader🩷

Dazai:

• Atsushi notices that everyday, Dazai leaves work early to go...somewhere. it's not like the guy is the type to follow a schedule so he can't tell where exactly he's been going lately. When he asks he just plays it off as a joke, tho he does notice how his gaze seems to be so distant lately.

• turns out, everyday these past few weeks Dazai has been visiting you in the hospital. He always comes with a sweet little gift, nothing extravagant, maybe a flower he knows you like or a cup of coffee from a place you used to frequent.

• he would spend hours with you, just the two of you in that sterilized little hospital room, talking about anything and everything. His demeanor is nonchalant, yet more soft and sensitive to you. He's always had a soft spot for you after all.

• when he learned of your condition he didn't try to "cure" it or "fix" it. He decided that he will love you and stay with you and make you feel like nothing has changed as much as he can. He keeps up with the jokes, the gifts, and tries to make you feel as normal as you used to feel.

• you notice how he stares at you more often, how he looks deeper into your eyes when you talk. As if he's trying to memorize every feature before it all goes away.

• he's decided that once you're gone, is when he will go too. He doesn't want to live without you. He laughs to himself a little bit, a soft, gentle chuckle, at the thought. "It's not the way I would have wanted, but now I finally get to die with you."

• he thinks he's so good at keeping this plan from you. That he's hiding it completely out of your line of sight. But you know Dazai. You know him better than anyone. You know how much he loves you. And the day you part ways your last wish to him is that he continues to live, to move on, to be with his friends and do what he wants to do. And once you're gone, he never thinks of suicide again.

Chuuya:

• at first, he does everything he can to find a cure. He spends thousands on doctors and doctors all specializing in your condition. But they all say the same thing. It can't be cured.

• you notice how much this is eating him up, how he's been more cranky, more irritable, he's never resting. He barely even gives time to visit you at the hospital as he's always on the search for a new doctor who will finally tell him what he wants. That there's a way out of this, a way for you to continue being in his life. But to no avail.

• your request is final, it's the last thing you ask him for. You want him to rest, to give up, and to just enjoy the time you have left. At first he's speechless. His eyes are smaller and wider than you've ever seen them. It feels as though his heart had stopped beating, his blood stopped pumping, and the world just went quiet for a second.

• then there comes the anger. The frustration. How can you just ask him that? To let you go? To just stand by as this stupid illness takes you away? Don't you know how much you mean to him? Don't you care?

• Chuuya doesn't visit you for a while after that. He spends time alone. Not even drinking the wine he loves so much, the bottles he had been saving for a special occasion, the ones with you in it. He stares blankly at nothing, thinking of nothing. The world could end right there and then but he would still be in this state. At least we'd go together, he thinks.

• meanwhile, you remain at the hospital, in the same bed, in the same room. A part of you is happy, because now Chuuya can move on. He can forget about you and finally be happy, happier than he'll ever be with you. You smile at the thought. You used to think that this time would be full of tears. But you were never one to cry. Neither was Chuuya.

• it's sunset. The end of the last month your doctor said you had left. Your body has weakened, you can't even get out of bed. At this point they've stopped trying, stopped filling you with meds and serums and shots. Stopped plugging you into machines and machines and machines. There are no more pipes around your body. No more wires. No more tubes. They've decided to let you go peacefully, and make you feel as if you were sleeping in your own bed, in your own home.

• on the last day, Chuuya is there.

• he stands at the doorway, calm and collected. He enters the room without a word. All he does is sit next to you, and take your hand in his. You look at him and smile.

• "I'm here, doll." He says.

• he wants to apologize. To atone for leaving you alone for so long. For forcing you in this room by yourself. But he knows you hate apologies. He just wants to spend the last remaining moments he has with you, with you.

• as he's sitting on that little chair next to you, watching your breathing get slower and slower, softer and softer, your life force fading away, he examines your face. Your eyes, your nose, your lips. He examines how your hair is fixed into the way you always did it, as if nothing has changed.

• he wants to say something, the last thing you will ever hear.

"I won't forget you,",

"I'll never leave you,"

Something like that. But he doesn't.

Instead he sits and watches you, in complete silence. He only realizes now that you two have been so loud and noisy the whole time you've known each other. Simple conversations are said in such loud voices, but you both loved it that way. But this time, you both decided it would be quiet. Peaceful. A contrast to the unusually loud and vulgar lives you both have lived. An end to a chapter.

Fyodor:

• Like Chuuya, Fyodor isn't one to give up so easily. He goes beyond doctors, or medicine, or anything so ordinary.

• he goes for the Book.

• the one thing that can change anything. All of this. He can give you a better life, one without all the dirt and bloodshed he had associated you with. One where you're happy, living in the house of your dreams, with all the things you've ever wanted, happier than ever.

• a life without him.

• Fyodor loved you too much to watch you get tainted by his own filth. He always thought it was too late for him, but not for you. But now you don't have all that time. Now he has to erase everything. Erase every part of you that was dirtied by him. With a new life free of him, you would finally, truly, be happy.

• He's off on dangerous missions. Making all sorts of enemies. All to do the last thing he could to make you happy.

• "Fedya," you called, your voice as sweet and soft as it always was. He snaps out of his trance, not realizing his gaze was so far away. "Yes, dear?" He answers, hard, sharp eyes softening upon seeing you. "Come here," you ask.

• he stands up from the chair he was sitting on across the room from you, and walks to your bedside. He puts a hand on your pillow, careful not to touch you. He knows very well that your unique condition is not one that is contagious. Even if it was that wouldn't be the reason he isn't touching you. It's all symbolic, he doesn't want to dirty you any more than he already has. He wants to keep this valuable, albeit cracked little porcelain doll in this state, before it slowly disappears.

• "Hold my hand, Fedya." You tell him. Breaking from his symbolic gestures, he takes your hand in his, caressing you with his thumb as he does so.

• "I want you to do something for me," you ask, not meeting his gaze. "Of course, dear." He answers almost immediately. He knows you never ask him for anything unless it was really important.

• "I want you to stop looking for that book." You say. Fyodor's eyes widen a little, a frown almost forming on his face. But he's smart enough to not need a reason. And he knows you well enough to know you don't want a sappy little conversation between the two of you filled with tears and cries.

• It takes a moment, but he smiles and nods. "Okay," he says. "Anything for you, myshka."

• your final moments are spent with him telling you a story, reading from a book you used to love. It was in Russian, and he would read it to you as a pastime before going to bed together. Even after you're gone, he keeps reading. All the way until he finishes the book. He closes it and looks at you. Your eyes are closed, your mouth is slightly open, as if you were just asleep. He gets up and kisses you on the forehead, and doesn't leave until the doctors come in.

Ok that's all! And sorry but usually when I say "bsd men" I mean these three idiots who I love with my whole heart and my whole pussy🤗 also sorry if some were kinda out of character, especially fyodor, I haven't seen him much in the anime yet since I haven't gotten to s5😅

#ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST I WANT TO SEE YOU SUFFER #bsd #bsd men #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #bsd fyodor #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd x you #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #angst x reader #x reader stories

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hyperfixatedonthisnow · 1 year ago

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Bound by blue ribbon

*not my GIF

Requested by: Anonymous - hiiii! If ya are still taking request!! Then may I get one of the ribbon scene from Rule of Wolves (I think???? I’m not surrrre) but it’s fem!reader x Nikolai? And instead of in her hair, it’s around her neck like a choker??

Just IMAGINE it with the classic character A walks down the staircase looking absolutely STUNNING and character B is s p e e c h l e s s trope! -

Dearest anon, I’m not sure I can properly convey just how much I loved this request. Like, you don’t understand, I am OBSESSED with how good this idea is! So much so that I was worried I wouldn’t be able to write anything that did it justice, but I tried my best. Hope you like it 🙏

Disclaimer (because I’m not looking to get sued): Some lines/dialogue directly borrowed from RoW, with a few minor changes. Obviously, I do not own those words and don’t claim to - they are the property of Leigh Bardugo and all rights belong to her and/or Netflix. Fanfic is for fun only; I am not making any money from this in any way.

Word count: 6Kish

Warnings: NSFW - 18+ only. Dual POV, idiots in love, fluff, the teeniest smidgen of angst if you squint, A little triumvirate cameo, more Genya than anyone - because someone needs to get these idiots together, soft!Nikolai, minimal plot, fem!reader, smut, oral sex (female receiving), P in V sex, unprotected sex (not recommended in real life!)

The party to celebrate Nikolai’s saints day was going to be beyond anything Ravka had ever seen before. Lavish decorations were being put up, the palace kitchens were working on a complicated menu, and the best musicians had been hired to perform. Nikolai hadn’t wanted such a fuss, but the triumvirate had invited every eligible maiden in the country, and most of the neighbouring countries as well, insisting that it was the perfect occasion for the king to finally choose a bride. Which was exactly why you had decided not to attend.

Nikolai had been your best friend since childhood, and you had been in love with him for more than half that time. Over the years, as you had grown from a child into a young woman, you had hoped that maybe he might see you in a romantic light, but unfortunately that hadn’t happened. You didn’t hold it against him, in fact you treasured his friendship, and you wanted only the best for him. You just weren’t sure your heart could withstand watching him fall in love with someone else.

The day of the party, you kept to your room, feigning illness. Nothing too serious, just a headache that would prevent you from attending the party, so that Nikolai could meet the potential woman of his dreams without you having to witness it. Unfortunately, sitting alone in your room all day gave you endless time to think, and your mind was determined to linger on thoughts of Nikolai with some faceless princess. Before dinner, you decided to take a bath, hoping to distract yourself. When you returned to your bedchamber, you found Genya lounging on your bed, alongside a large box.

You stared at your friend, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself. “How did you get in here? And why are you here, shouldn’t you be at the party already?”

“Unimportant,” Genya said breezily, waving her hand as if brushing the question aside, “and yes, I should, but someone had to help you get ready.”

You opened your mouth to tell her she needn’t have bothered but she cut you off with a disapproving click of her tongue. “Don’t waste your time trying to convince me you’re ill, I know that’s a lie.”

“Fine,” you huffed, “but I’m still not going, even if I wanted to - which I don’t - I have nothing to wear.”

Genya gave you a sly smile, holding out the envelope she had hidden in her hand. It bore the royal seal, and was addressed to you, but it had already been opened.

“Have you been reading my private correspondence?” You questioned, irritation bleeding into your tone.

“Mmm,” she hummed, not sounding sorry in the slightest, “it seems the king has sent you a gift. How very thoughtful of him.”

You eyed her suspiciously as you pulled the note from the envelope. The message was short, just two lines, written in Nikolai’s familiar cursive.

~ I hope you’ll wear this tonight. Lantsov blue looks good on you. N ~

Your brow furrowed in confusion. That shade of blue was reserved exclusively for the royal family. The closest you ever came to wearing it was a baby blue silk ribbon that you used to tie your hair back every day. A ribbon you had stolen from Nikolai himself, many months ago. He had been using the blue silk to tie his invention blueprints, keeping the rolls of parchment together and relatively organised when he wasn’t using them. On that afternoon, you had been wearing your hair down, but it was hot in his workshop, so you had pulled your hair back into a braid, snatching up the ribbon to secure it. You had meant to give it back, eventually, but then you had forgotten, and soon it had become a part of your daily wardrobe. You hadn’t even realised he had noticed it.

Genya opened the box to reveal a beautiful gown of pale blue silk, overlayed with a layer of tulle, embroidered in a galaxy of sparkling silver stars. You moved closer, lifting it from the box to finger the delicate fabric.

“See, problem solved.” She announced smugly.

“I can’t wear the king’s colour,” you protested.

“Clearly, he wants you to,” she argued, “would you really deny him?”

You gave her a withering look, “You know full well that I would never deny him anything,” you grumbled, “but people will talk.

“So? Let them,” she shrugged.

You bit your lip, deliberating. On the one hand, the thought of Nikolai buying a dress specially for you to wear on his birthday made your stomach flip pleasantly, but on the other hand, you had already decided not to go to the party and a pretty dress wasn’t going to change your mind. But surely it couldn’t hurt to just try it on … right?

“Well, you have to try it on, at the very least,” Genya insisted, as if she had read your mind, “a dress this beautiful deserves to be worn.”

“Alright,” you conceded, “but just for a moment.”

Genya smiled widely, clapping her hands together with glee.

The second you stepped into the dress, soft silk slipping over your skin, you knew you had made a mistake. Genya laced the corset up with practiced ease and when she was done, she stepped back to admire you. She gasped as she took in the full effect of you in the dress, and as you turned to look at yourself in the mirror you could see why. It fit you like a glove. The colour complemented your skin perfectly and the fabric clung to you in all the right places, accentuating your waist and the curve of your hips. The sweetheart neckline was so low as to almost be scandalous, putting your breasts on full display. You wondered what Nikolai had been thinking when he picked it out. If he had picked it out. Either way, now that you had seen it on, you knew you had no choice but to go to the party. A dress like this demanded to be seen. Genya fixed your hair, sweeping it into an elegant updo and leaving a few curls to fall loose around your face. You kept your jewelry light, diamond earrings and bracelet to match the stars on your dress, but none of the necklaces you tried were quite right. You didn’t want anything that would draw focus from the gown. Genya suggested your hair ribbon, and when you fastened the light blue silk around your throat as a choker, she helped you to tie it into a simple bow at the back.

“Perfect,” she declared, lips curving into a smile, and as you looked yourself over in the mirror you thought she might just be right. The two of you walked together to the ballroom, but when you got there, she dropped you off in the queue of nobles waiting to be announced, insisting you should make a grand entrance. She slipped away before you could argue, muttering something about how she couldn’t leave David unattended any longer, lest he use the opportunity to retreat to his workshop.

You waited at the top of the staircase, just out of sight, as your name was announced. Your heart pounded as you made your way down the stairs. It felt as though everyone’s eyes were on you, but then you saw Nikolai, standing at the foot of the stairs as if waiting for you, and suddenly everyone else melted away. It was just you, and him, and his eyes on yours like you were the only thing that mattered to him.

-------------------------------------------------------

Nikolai was having a dismal evening. So far, he had suffered through what felt like a lifetime of conversations, the longest of which was with the Kerch ambassador, a pompous peacock of a man with an impressively large moustache and unfortunately low IQ, followed by a highly uncomfortable discussion about politics with both the Shu and Fjerdan delegates. To top it off, every time he managed to escape, Zoya would appear with a new princess for him to meet, each one less suited than the last, and he would be forced to spend several painful minutes listening to them talk about their own virtues, of which there were many, apparently.

It seemed like everywhere he turned was some ambassador offering him thinly veiled threats disguised as polite conversation, or one of his ministers trying to push their own agenda whilst they had him alone, or worst of all, another pretty, but vapid, young lady, waiting to be thrust upon him as a potential bride. In truth, he wasn’t interested in any of it, because all he found himself thinking about was you.

As the minutes passed, he started to worry that you wouldn’t come, that you would leave him to deal with the vultures all on his own. And more than that, he worried that he had overstepped with his gift. He had been full of confidence when he helped to design it, chosen every detail to compliment you perfectly, but now he was second guessing himself. Would you like the gown? Would you understand his meaning, about you looking good in blue? Would you return his feelings? He wasn’t sure.

He was contemplating this - whilst only half listening to one of his ministers drone on about the dangers of allowing farmers to have control over their own crops, when Genya suddenly appeared at his side. She politely excused them both from the conversation, pointedly ignoring the minister’s indignation at being interrupted, and looped her arm through Nikolai’s, pulling him away. She led him quickly across the room to stand near the bottom of the stairs.

“Stay right here.” She instructed him sternly, and Nikolai could only blink at her, perplexed, before she was gone, melting back into the crowd without even giving him a chance to respond.

He felt a prickle of annoyance at being ordered around, honestly, wasn’t he the king? He considered walking away just purely on principle, no matter how childish that might be, but then he heard your name being announced, and he wondered if Genya had known. He looked up, his heart hammering in his chest, and when you walked out onto the staircase, he thought it might have stopped beating altogether. You were wearing the gown he had picked out, your hair curled and styled perfectly, and around your throat, that scrap of pale blue silk that haunted his dreams. Usually, you wore it in your hair, and it was eminently practical, but it had the unfortunate effect of making him want to untie it. Seeing it around your throat made that idea all the more appealing. You were stunning. He realised his imagination had not done you justice, could not even come close. The sight of you quite literally took his breath away.

He reached out almost automatically as you got near enough, offering you his hand, and you took it, letting him guide you down the last few steps.

-------------------------------------------------------

“Hi,” you breathed once you were standing face to face, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, but Nikolai just stared at you, slack-jawed, for what felt like an eternity. You began to fidget, feeling self-conscious.

“Do I look ok?” You asked, smoothing down your dress nervously.

He shook his head. “‘Ok’ would be a gross understatement,” he said, “You are a vision.”

Your face lit up in a smile, pleased at the compliment, and you could feel the warmth of a blush spreading across your cheeks. Nikolai dropped your hand, and you almost mourned the loss, but then he pressed his hand to the small of your back instead, and all you could focus on was that intimate point of contact as he led you away from the stairs and further into the room.

“I was beginning to think you had abandoned me,” Nikolai said, his mouth tipping up into a small smile.

“I wasn’t sure I’d come,” you found yourself admitting quietly, “but then someone sent me this beautiful gown, and I changed my mind.”

“You like it?”

“I do,” you assured him, “Thank you. It’s a very generous gift, although it’s your birthday, shouldn’t I be the one giving you a gift?”

“You deserve it,” he said, voice low in your ear, “and seeing you in this dress is a gift for me.”

You were sure you were blushing again. Was he flirting with you? Surely not, that had to be wishful thinking on your part.

“Do you want to dance?” You asked, changing the subject lest you embarrass yourself.

“Yes,” he murmured as he took your hand again, leading you out onto the floor.

He held you close as you moved together through the steps of the dance, effortlessly in sync. You focused completely on him, enjoying the intimate feeling of being pressed against him, his eyes on yours and his hands warm on your body. Being so close to him was the sweetest kind of torture, and you quickly began to feel overheated, as your mind inevitably drifted to all the other ways you could enjoy being close to him, of his hands in much more intimate places. You looked around, trying to clear your head, and you realised that it hadn’t been just your imagination, people were staring, but you found that you didn’t care at all. As your eyes met his again, you were surprised to see that same feeling of desire reflected back at you. Maybe it wasn’t just wishful thinking after all.

When the dance ended, he asked if you wanted to get some air, and you agreed, following him across the room and out into the hallway.

--------------------------------------------------------

Nikolai pulled you into an alcove, just off the main hallway. It was quieter here, with less chance of being seen or overheard.

“Genya and Zoya won’t be happy when they realize you’ve ditched your own party,” you told him, “They’re determined to find you a wife tonight.”

“I don’t care,” he said honestly, “and I’m not interested in any of those girls.”

“You must marry, Kolya. You can’t put it off forever,” you insisted, even though it pained you to say it. “You’ll have to choose someone eventually.”

“You’re the only one I would choose.” He confessed. The words were out before he thought better of them, and there was no way to pull them back.

You studied him carefully, your heart racing. “As your friend?” You asked, offering him a chance to right the ship, to take you back to familiar waters.

He could have lied, could have given you a hundred different easy replies. Instead, he said, “As my queen.”

“Because I’m dependable,” you said cautiously, tentatively, “or because I know all of your secrets?”

"I do trust you more than myself sometimes- and I think very highly of myself." He said, and you huffed a laugh, convinced that any moment now he would take it all back.

“But I would make you my queen because I want you. I want you all the time."

You wanted to tell him that you wanted him too, that he was the only man you had ever wanted, or ever would want, but it wasn’t that simple. He was your best friend, and he was also your king, and you had to be practical. “As your friend, I should tell you that would be a terrible decision. You should make a political choice, take some foreign princess as your bride. Someone who was born to be a queen.”

He met your eyes, voice steady and earnest when he said, "As your king, I should tell you that no one could dissuade me. No prince and no power could make me stop wanting you."

Nikolai felt drunk. You were going to laugh at him. You would knock him senseless and tell him he had no right. But he couldn't seem to stop.

"I would give you a crown if I could," he said. "I would show you the world from the prow of a ship. I would choose you, as my friend, as my queen, as my bride. I would give you a sapphire the size of an acorn." He reached out, fingers brushing over the blue silk ribbon tied around your throat. "And all I would ask in return is that you wear this damnable ribbon on our wedding day."

You should say no, you should tell him he was making a mistake, but you couldn’t. You wanted him too, and not just tonight, but forever. You wanted a future with him, and if you closed your eyes, you could see it, as clear as day. Standing at an altar set before the Saints as a priest named you man and wife. Mornings spent together, eating breakfast and sipping coffee while you discussed the day ahead, and nights spent tangled together in his sheets, sweaty and sated. Soft touches and words of affirmation whispered in the early morning light. Two - or maybe three - golden-haired children, with your eyes and his smile, running about the palace, happy and loved, and constantly getting into mischief. A million inside jokes, and shared looks, and fights about nothing, easily forgiven. A lifetime of moments, big and small, side by side with him. You wanted it all.

“Yes,” you said simply, meeting his gaze.

“Yes?” He repeated, as if he didn’t dare to believe it.

He cupped his hand to your cheek, his palm warm against your jaw. His thumb brushed lightly across your cheekbone, and when your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip, his eyes followed the movement. You wanted him to kiss you, so badly that you ached with the need of it. You tilted your head up slightly, lips parted in invitation.

He dipped his head, then paused, lips hovering just inches from yours as he searched your eyes, waiting for permission. The heat of his gaze was like flames across your skin. You leaned into him, pressing a hand to his chest and you could feel his heart racing beneath your palm. “Yes,” you said again, barely above a whisper, and he bent his head forward, finally, touching his lips to yours. His kiss was soft and sweet, just the barest brush of his lips over yours, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. You made a needy sound, chasing his lips when he moved away, and his mouth curved into a smile.

He pressed you back against the wall, his hands settling on your hips and then his mouth was on yours once more, and this time there was nothing tentative about it. His tongue met yours hungrily, desperately, swallowing your sounds of pleasure. You grabbed a handful of his shirt, crushing the fabric beneath your fingers as you hauled him closer, but it still wasn’t close enough. You reached down with your free hand, tugging your skirts up so that you could curve your leg up around him and he groaned low in his throat, his hand immediately dropping from your waist to the bare skin of your thigh.

He pushed his hips forward, and you could feel the proof of his arousal, pressing against you intimately. You gasped, tipping your head back against the wall. He ducked his head, his tongue darting out to taste the smooth skin of your exposed throat, and he nipped lightly at your pulse point before trailing kisses down to the dip of your shoulder and along your collarbone.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, teeth just barely grazing your skin, and your eyebrows knitted in confusion, wasn’t he doing that already?

“I want to taste you,” he said, his fingers skating up and over your inner thigh to press at you lightly over the lace of your underwear. Oh. The thought of having his mouth on you, there, sent a wave of heat straight to your core.

“Yes,” you murmured after just a brief hesitation, and his smile turned wicked as he sank to his knees in front of you.

You hiked your dress higher, bunching the fabric above your hips so that you could watch him as he dragged your underwear slowly down your thighs and helped you step out of them. He stuffed the scrap of lace into his pocket, before he ran his hand up your calf, bending your knee and then lifting your leg to rest it over his shoulder. He kissed a path from your knee up your inner thigh towards your centre and then he stopped, warm breath ghosting over you and eyes fixed on your core, until you began to squirm. He stilled you with a firm hand on your hip.

“Nikolai,” you started, but you were robbed of the power of speech when he leaned in, his face disappearing between your thighs.

--------------------------------------------------------

He licked a broad stripe across you with the flat of his tongue and you gasped, your hand shooting down to fist in his hair. He licked into you slowly, nose bumping your clit, until you were writhing and panting above him. His fingers worked you over, drawing lazy circles over your clit as he explored every inch of you with his lips and tongue. He dipped two fingers inside you, moving them in and out, crooking them slightly to search for that spot that would have you seeing stars and he knew he had found it when you moaned, clenching around him.

Nikolai had always enjoyed this, drawing pleasure from his partner with his mouth and hands, and he prided himself on being good at it, but he had never found it such a turn on before. His pants were uncomfortably tight, and he thought he could probably come untouched, just from the taste of you and the sounds you made. He turned his head for a moment to draw a ragged breath, and he smiled against your inner thigh when you whined impatiently, using your grip on his hair to drag him back where you wanted him.

He went easily, happy to oblige you, and this time he closed his lips around your clit, sucking it against his tongue. You cried out, your hand tightening in his hair hard enough to make his scalp prickle. He kept the pressure of his mouth gentle but non-stop, as your thighs began to shake, your hips jerking against his face. He couldn’t hold back his moan as he felt your body shuddering, his mouth flooded with wetness when you found your release. He worked you through it, lapping at you gently until finally, you pushed him away with a shaky hand.

He shifted from his knees back to his feet, and you reached for him as he stood, wanting to keep him close. His hair was sticking up at all angles, mussed by your hands, his cheeks flushed, and his lips tilted in a lopsided smirk. He looked utterly debauched in the best possible way. You swiped your thumb across his bottom lip before you leaned in to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue, and you were surprised to find that it wasn’t unpleasant.

You reached a hand down between your bodies, to cup him over his pants and he groaned, pushing himself into your palm. A door opened somewhere, the sounds of the party drifting out into the hallway, and you froze, the illusion of privacy shattered.

The noise from further down the hallway brought Nikolai back to his senses so suddenly, he felt like he’d been doused in ice water. Had he completely lost his mind? Your first time together shouldn’t be like this, frantic and dirty, pushed up against a wall in a public place, where anyone could discover the two of you at any moment.

“I’m sorry,” he said breathlessly, “I got carried away, I shouldn’t have … this wasn’t…”

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, trying to find the right words. You deserved better from him. You deserved a white veil, and matching rings, and a promise made at an alter set before the Saints. He wanted to give you all of that, and he would, but not tonight. Tonight, he could at least give you a soft bed, and gentle hands, declarations of love whispered in the dark. Romance, because you deserved that if nothing else.

He pulled back, letting you drop your skirts down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You felt your face fall before you could stop it.

“Oh,” was all the response you could muster, the sting of disappointment sharp, and so bitter you could almost taste it. You closed your eyes, willing away the tears that threatened to form. Was he saying this was a mistake? Had he changed his mind? Had you done something wrong?

“I only meant, we should go somewhere more private,” he said, watching you carefully.

“Oh,” you said again, relief flooding through you.

“Unless… if you’d rather return to the party, that’s fine too.” He clarified.

“I don’t,” you said quickly, and you almost blushed at how eager you sounded.

“No?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow at you.

You gave him a smile that you hoped was sultry. “No. Take me to bed,” you purred, and you knew you’d hit the mark when his eyes darkened in response.

He took your hand, guiding you through the palace hallways until you reached his rooms. He opened the door for you, ever the gentleman, allowing you to enter first, and then he followed you inside, locking the door swiftly behind him. There would be no more interruptions tonight, not if he could help it.

--------------------------------------------------------

You came to a stop by the foot of the bed, waiting for him to join you. He crossed the room in just a few quick strides, pulling you into his arms, and then his mouth was on yours again, hot and demanding. You let your hands roam, over his shoulders and into his hair, before the desperate need to feel his bare skin against yours took over, and you set to work on removing his clothes.

Your nimble fingers made light work of the knot in his cravat, pulling it loose and free of his collar in just a few short movements, and you quickly moved on to his shirt, opening the first few buttons. He pulled back for just enough time to yank the shirt off over his head, and then he was back to kissing you like his life depended on it. When you moved to unbutton his pants, your knuckles inadvertently brushing up against his hardness, he groaned low in his throat and pulled away again, this time to spin you around so that he could unlace your corset and free you from your dress.

He placed kisses across your shoulder, and down the length of your spine as it was revealed to him and once you were completely nude before him, he wrapped an arm around your waist to tug you back against him, his clothed arousal against your bare ass. You brought your hands up to your throat to untie your ribbon, but he stopped you. “Allow me, he murmured, voice low and rough in your ear. He hooked a finger into the bow at the back of your neck, tugging gently until it unravelled, soft silk sliding over your skin, and then he curled it up to put into his pocket, joining your underwear from earlier.

He cupped your breast, thumb circling your nipple until it hardened into a peak, while his other hand travelled down the side of your ribs and across your lower abdomen to your core. You moaned as his fingers found their mark, dipping inside you to gather the wetness there before rubbing gentle circles over your clit. Only once you were panting, your head falling back against his shoulder, and your hips moving in small circles along with his hand, did he nudge you in the direction of the bed. You took the hint, though you were loath to give up the delicious friction of his talented fingers. You moved to sit on the edge of the bed first, watching with bated breath while he took off the last of his own clothes.

Once he was undressed, you scooted backwards onto the bed, so that you were positioned comfortably on the pillows, and he climbed over you, covering the length of your body with his. You gasped as you felt his erection pressing against you, almost, but not quite, in the right place. He pinned one of your hands to the bed beside your head, fingers twining with yours as he dipped his head to kiss you, licking into your mouth until you were both breathless. You bent your leg up around his hip, opening yourself up for him instinctively and he kept his eyes on yours as he flexed his hips, entering you at an agonizingly slow pace. You were warm, and wet, and perfect, and you dug your heel into the back of his thigh, urging him deeper. He groaned, his eyes slipping closed and his hand squeezing yours tightly.

Once he was fully seated inside you, he had to stop. He let his head drop to your shoulder and he held completely still, desperately fighting to get a grip on his self-control. Late at night when he lay alone in the dark, his wildest fantasies playing out behind his eyelids, it was your face he saw and your name on his lips when he came. He had dreamed of having you so many times, in a thousand different ways, but nothing could compare to the reality. It was as if he was suddenly a boy of sixteen again, green and eager, ready to spill himself at the slightest hint of friction. You shifted beneath him, wriggling impatiently and only once he was sure he would not embarrass himself, did he raise his head to look at you.

“Sorry,” he said, the corner of his mouth tipping up into an amused little smirk, “did you need something?”

You just barely resisted the urge to smack him, and instead clenched your inner muscles around him, watching with a smug sense of satisfaction as his eyelids fluttered, the smirk dropping from his face.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his eyes dark with arousal as they met yours, but he still didn’t move.

“Please,” you begged, and you would have been embarrassed by how needy you sounded if not for the way that his hips bucked in response.

He dipped his head, slanting his mouth over yours as he withdrew slowly, almost completely, only to fill you again with a sharp thrust of his hips. His hand was warm in yours, palms pressed together, and fingers intertwined, the connection anchoring you as he started to move in earnest, settling into a perfect, maddening rhythm that was somehow altogether too much, and yet not enough at the same time.

The muscles in his biceps were straining with the effort of holding himself up and you wrapped your arm around his shoulders, pulling him down on to you until his chest was flush with yours. He nuzzled at your throat, as he maintained his languid pace, drawing out your mutual pleasure for as long as he possibly could, and you were torn between the desperate need to climax, and the desire to stay entwined with him like this forever.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he felt the beginnings of his own climax, Nikolai reluctantly released your hand so that he could slip his between your bodies to thumb at your clit. Within moments, he felt you tightening around him, your orgasm beginning to ripple through you, and he kept the movement of his hips slow and steady, drawing it out until you were writhing beneath him. He removed his hand as the last tremors ran through your body, and he lifted his head, mouth finding yours, as he finally allowed himself release. He sheathed himself fully inside you, as he shuddered and came.

He collapsed onto you, pressing you into the mattress, and you stroked your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him close, as you both struggled to catch your breath. Your bodies were tangled together, completely enveloped by each other, and neither of you wanted to move.

“I love you,” he murmured after a moment, turning his head so that he could press a kiss to your temple.

“I love you too,” you assured him, holding him tighter.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the morning, you had woken early and taken the opportunity to study Nikolai in the light of the sunrise, his face relaxed and boyish in sleep, and when he woke, he had nudged you onto your back and made love to you again. That had been followed by a bath, in which you both ended up dirtier than you had been upon getting in, and a second one - strictly for getting clean, and one horrifyingly awkward conversation with your maid, during which the girl giggled and blushed furiously, as you begged her to bring you something to wear. All of this meant that it was late, long past noon, when the pair of you finally emerged from his room.

You walked hand in hand to the council room, where the triumvirate were already assembled. Genya and Zoya were standing over the table, heads bent as they looked over a map, talking quietly together. David sat across from them, scribbling away, fingers stained with ink. Genya lifted her head as you entered, smiling knowingly at you.

Nikolai cleared his throat. “I… well, we, have something important to tell you all,” he announced. “We’re getting married.” Subtle as ever.

“Thank the Saints,” Zoya muttered, without even looking up, “I thought I’d be old and grey before you two ever got your act together.”

“I told you it would work!” Genya said gleefully.

You and Nikolai shared a confused look. “What worked?” You asked.

“The party,” Zoya explained, speaking very slowly, as if she were talking to a pair of particularly dim children, “the one we planned, to push you both into admitting you’re in love with each other, obviously.”

You both just stared at her.

“Someone had to do it,” she continued with a shrug, “Saints knows neither of you were going to do it on your own.”

“I would have done it without your intervention,” Nikolai said defensively, “eventually.”

“Yes, of course you would,” Genya said mildly, her tone just on the edge of patronising.

Nikolai pinched the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes shut in frustration. “So, just to be clear - you conceived an elaborate plot, which involved throwing an expensive party with hundreds of guests, and making me suffer through hours of mind-numbing conversation with prospective “brides”, all so that you could manipulate us into confessing our feelings for each other?”

“I wouldn’t say manipulate,” Genya objected, “more like give you a loving shove in the right direction.”

“A brilliant plan, really,” David piped up, “and, clearly, effective.”

Genya smiled fondly at him. “Thank you, dear.”

And suddenly it all made sense, the way Genya had come to insist you go to the party, the way she had pushed you to wear the dress even though it was Lantsov blue, the fact that she had made you wait to be announced, and that Nikolai had mysteriously been waiting for you the moment you entered the room. The mysterious coincidence that all the young ladies Zoya had introduced to him were almost comically unsuitable. They had engineered it all.

You couldn’t stop the grin that spread over your face. Perhaps you should have been upset by the idea that they had manipulated you both, but honestly you weren’t. You shared another look with Nikolai. He shook his head exasperatedly, but he was smiling now too, and you knew he shared your feelings on the matter. This whole charade might have been ridiculous, but how could you hold it against them, when it had resulted in the happiest night of your lives.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x reader #fem!reader #shadow and bone #grishaverse #zoya is my queen but not in this fic #my writing #i wrote this #request #patrick gibson

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