#I initially made this for the holidays but didn't finish in time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

femdomlieeh · 9 months ago

Text

Caramel (m)

Sub!Brat!Sunghoon (ENHYPEN) x Dom!GF!Reader

WC—4.5 ✧ k

WARNING—jealousy ✧ semi-public masturbation (car, m) ✧ spanking (m!r) ✧ face sitting (f) ✧ degrading ✧ praising ✧ piv ✧ riding ✧ nipple play (f!r) ✧ hair pulling (m!r) ✧ name-calling ✧ pet names (Love, Baby, Mommy) ✧ awkward encounter with Yeonjun from TXT

THEMES—smut ✧ established relationship ✧ fluffy ✧ jealousy ✧ good boy turned bad

NOW PLAYING —I Wanna Be Yours ✧ Arctic Monkeys

A/N. I got some sweet messages of encouragement from readers on both wattpad and tumblr after my last update: thank you! Your words and support motivated me to post this sooner<3

M.LISTS—enhypen ✧ latest updates ✧ read on wp

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The mall was packed with people. After Valentines some stores had crazy sales on winter collections since the last major winter holiday was over and the desperation to empty the racks full of winter clothes before it was too late was at its highest point. So, you and your valentine Sunghoon decided to go to the mall. Although you knew the winter leftovers weren't always the prettiest and that you likely wouldn't end up purchasing anything, you thought it would be fun to try on some clothes and just walk and talk since you hadn't spent much time together since Valentine's Day. Also, who knows, you might actually find something nice!

"Baby, you're so sweet," you whispered into Sunghoon's ear, kissing his temple after he greeted you with two hot lattes, one matcha and one caramel — he always picked those two drinks partly for the taste, caffeine and warmth but also so when the two of you were halfway finished you could switch cups.

"Everything for you, Love," he gave you the matcha latte, blushing at your little affection since you were in a very public setting. The only type of physical touch he felt comfortable initiating in front of others was holding your hand or a quick hug, otherwise it was you giving him pecks on his cheek, sitting on his lap or petting his head, which he loved no matter how embarrassed he felt in the moment — your attention and affection is precious to him.

"Thank you," you took a sip of the matcha, content worth the content and also because the cup was warming up your cold hands, but you grabbed his hand anyway, preferring that source of warmth.

He knew his ears were probably red now. He loved it when your cold hand stole the warmth from his.

You swung your hands a little as you walked to your favorite boutique, hoping to find something nice on sale or just walk around and look at different clothes together. But before you entered you were surprised to hear your name. Immediately you recognised the voice but Sunghoon was caught off guard. A foreign voice. A happy voice. A man's voice. The two of you turned around and spotted a man who looked like he belonged in a Kdrama. Sunghoon wished he hadn't been distracted by your touch as you led him to the boutique and that he instead dragged you two to a hot pot restaurant on the opposite side of the mall so you wouldn't have run into this perfect man but it was too late.

The demon with a picture perfect smile walked up with open arms to you two. Or to you and not Sunghoon to be specific. The handsome man hugged you in front of Sunghoon. His ears didn't turn pink like Sunghoon's would when he gave you a two second hug in public. And omg you hugged this man back!

He pulled the rude, good-looking male stranger by his coat, gently separating the two of you.

"Who are you, again?" Sunghoon asked, very confused as to why a male he doesn't know would feel comfortable hugging his girlfriend right in front of his face.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I got a little carried away when I saw her," the guy said with a grin, which made Sunghoon clench the fist that was once in your hand.

"My name's Yeonjun. ____ and I have known each other for more than six years now, right?" He said, looking at you, not Sunghoon.

"Yeah, I think it's been five, six years already. Time goes by so fast!"

Sunghoon gulped. He hadn't even known you for half that time.

"And we haven't seen each other in so long!" the so-called Yeonjun went to your side, entering the boutique together. Sunghoon felt his mouth go dry at how Yeonjun referred to the two of you as "we" and walked side by side with you so naturally. This fucking doucheb—

"Yeonjun, this is my boyfriend, Sunghoon," you made sure to introduce them to each other since Yeonjun got too excited and talked too much too fast and forgot to ask for your boyfriend's name (which was very much his character).

"Nice to meet you, Sunghoon," Yeonjun held his hand in front of you to shake Sunghoon's hand.

But your otherwise sweet, polite boyfriend pretended like he didn't see the waiting hand, "Likewise," holding your hand instead.

This was supposed to be his day with you, not handsome Yeonjun's day with you. You were supposed to walk slowly, look around for nothing in particular, arms hooked together (your doing), sipping your lattes until they were half empty so you could switch cups!

The thing is, the two of you were right by the entrance to this boutique heading inside when Yeonjun came so its not like you could pretend you were going to another store to get out of this situation or you would seem rude for blowing him off for no reason, especially since he's been your friend of six years. Or have you two been a thing? Was Yeonjun your friend as in you were in the same class at uni or your friend as in ex who you ended on extremely good terms with or — even worse — was he a "right person, wrong time" type of "friend"? No. He's overthinking it. Surely, you would've told him about all your exes already and Yeonjun's name had never been mentioned. Besides you were a smart person, you wouldn't get into a relationship with Sunghoon if you had feelings for or unfinished business with Yeonjun or anyone else.

But the hug. The way Yeonjun showed you physical touch so easily, no sign of insecurity or blushing. Your comfortable body language, as if you've hugged Yeonjun hundreds of times before.

"Do you remember this?" Yeonjun said, holding up a small pink purse.

"Yes, I do remember," you laughed at the memory.

"What?" Sunghoon looked so lost. You two had inside jokes together!

"After you won a bet, I told you I'd buy you a pink purse one day."

"Yeah. We were stressed kids back," you smiled at the reminiscence. You had gotten a higher score on a test so Yeonjun had promised to buy you whatever you wanted and the first thing you could think of at that time was a pink purse. Since he lost the bet during high school, you didn't expect him to buy it since he didn't have a lot of money and also because it was better to save whatever money he had. But high school was long gone and you hadn't thought of the purse since but Yeonjun remembered.

"Now I have the money to do so..." he continued.

"I already got that same exact purse for her," Sunghoon interrupted before Yeonjun went too far, noticing that was the only pink purse in this section so Yeonjun wouldn't be so rude as to suggest buying another pink purse with another design. Of course, Sunghoon didn't want a handsome man to buy his girlfriend a purse that would remind her of him each time she looked at it — unless that handsome man was Sunghoon, of course.

You looked at Sunghoon after he told the lie, but didn't say anything because he'd also do the same for you if he knew you told a lie to or kept a secret from someone.

"Really? You got her a 30€ purse?"

Now that was rude.

"Well, I really wanted this purse, so the price doesn't really matter," you said, embarrassed your friend would say that to your boyfriend.

"Of course! Of course! If you wanted the purse," Yeonjun tried to save the situation, realizing what he sounded like. He sent a friendly smile at the two of you and started looking through a rail of T-shirts.

After a few minutes of trying to find something that was cute on the sale rack, you called your friend over. "This one would look really good on you, Junnie," you held up a white dress shirt in silk that you found on 30% sale.

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I think you pull off this kind of aesthetic well."

Hm, how do I get her to only look at me? How do I get her to only look at me? How do I get her to only look at-

Sunghoon walked up to the two of you, "Do you wanna switch cups, Love? I know you love caramel latte and it will get cold soon," he held the cup in front of your lips so you could taste it. He was right, you do love caramel latte and it tastes so much better warm. You smiled at him. The way he showed affection without having to touch, but just remembering any little fact about you and being caring always made your heart melt. You lifted the matcha latte cup to his lips, making him taste too and he did, but not without blushing. For a moment he forgot you were in public and he just wanted to lay down, tangle your legs and arms together and with the hot drinks getting cold on the table as a rom-com played in the background forgotten as you just looked at each other and talked and kissed—

"Guys, do you have anything to try on?" Yeonjun interrupted your little moment.

Then you switched cups before you looked over at Yeonjun. "I can't find anything I like for now—"

"Then you can come and rate this shirt on me. See if you were right that I would look good in it?"

Oh no. Sunghoon did not like this. He had to do something fast.

"Look, Love! You would pull off this dress so well," he half-yelled to get your attention and held up the first thing he in arms reach, blushing at both the dress and at the double entendre.

Your gaze turned to your boyfriend but your eyes visibly went from curious to a bit mad. It was a tight, red dress with a deep cleavage — and it was inappropriate for Sunghoon to suggest trying on or buying this kind of clothes in front of someone else, especially a friend you hadn't seen in a long time. But the fact that it had a lace bra under it, making it look like lingerie, was humiliating. You turned red. Not from blushing, but from fuming. It was very odd of your boyfriend to do that; the guy who blushed when you kissed his cheek at a restaurant when you were sitting alone held up this sexy dress and suggested you try on or buy it in front of Yeonjun.

Yeonjun turned away, awkward, "I'm just gonna go...try this on."

"What was that?" You questioned sternly.

"What was what?" Sunghoon gulped, still holding the dress.

You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, "Are you trying to get punished?"

He remained quiet, tall but so small in your presence.

"Cat got your tongue? Hm? Talk, you didn't have a problem being loud just a minute ago," you whispered so others — especially Yeonjun — wouldn't hear you.

The sound of a door creaking was heard, which made you retreat your hand immediately and turn around.

"How does it look?" Yeonjun asked and scratched his neck as he showed off the white dress shirt you suggested.

"My eye was right. You should buy it," you gave him a thumbs up. Sunghoon did not like this.

"Thank y-"

"I wanna try it on too," Sunghoon interrupted him.

"Oh, sure, I can give it to you in a minute."

"Actually, I think I need a bigger size because of my shoulders so I'll just grab a fresh one." It was Sunghoon's turn to be rude.

He felt a minor adrenaline rush — if that even existed — as he power walked to the part of the clothing zoo where he remembered you had told Yeonjun to try on a shirt you found. At this point would do anything to keep your eyes on him instead of that guy. He hurried into the changing room, changing in just a minute and opened the door.

Your eyes were definitely on him. He had styled the shirt a bit differently than Yeonjun, choosing to keep the first four buttons undone, way sexier than the usual one or two undone buttons. The pure white silk complemented his skin, making him ironically look like an angel.

"You look really, really good, Baby."

It was a modest compliment, since you had company, but Sunghoon already knew what you were thinking as you eyed him up and down.

"It looked better on me though," Yeonjun said in a jokingly manner.

"No, I look better in it," Sunghoon said, "Right, Mommy?"

It slipped out. He didn't mean to say that. In fact, he's never called you that before.

Yeonjun gulped and stood up to go, "I'm gonna go pay for this real quick."

"You're gonna regret that," you said with a voice that was too calm.

"What you gonna do about it, Mommy?" Might as well go along with this brat thing.

"Guys, something came up so I gotta go. I just wanted to say bye!" Yeonjun appeared with a bag and an awkward smile.

"Bye," you said, hugging him farewell.

some minutes later.

After throwing the almost empty caramel latte in the trash, you slammed the door of the car (not hard, but a little louder than normal). Sunghoon had embarrassed you in front of an old friend, your angel acting like a brat. And he was just glad he had your attention.

"Love~"

You started the engine and took off, completely ignoring his cute calling.

"Mommy," he leaned over to your side, putting his face in your boobs.

"Brat," you pressed your hand harshly on his dick. He was hard. "You really got hard from acting like a desperate slut in public?"

"Mhm. More, Mommy," he whimpered in your ear.

"Slut," you pushed his face away with the hand that was giving him pleasure just now, placing his head gently onto the neck rest (still worried for him even when you were mad).

He smirked, ears red at the contrast of your words and pushing and then kindness. He needed more. So much more. Any little attention you had given to Yeonjun today, he needed that attention tripled. He would've acted like a brat much sooner today if he knew you would've taken him home to punish him.

With his eyes on you he undid his pants. He wanted to push the limit. You looked away from the road for a split second to catch a glimpse of what your boyfriend was up to, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Being a needy whore," he replied and slid his hand inside the pants.

"Touching yourself without my permission two minutes away from home? You're begging to be punished like the bitch you are," you chuckled and sped up.

"Yes, Mommy," he moaned both as an answer to your statement and because of the pleasure his hand was giving. Apparently he loved calling you that.

"Well, you're gonna get it soon, slut," you replied as you were parking.

At that, he went even faster with his hand to get on your nerves even more. And then you were parked. He went for the door in a second, excited for what was about to happen. You got out too and unlocked the door to your place. A slam was heard after you got in. Shoes were taken off and thrown to the side. Sunghoon took your jacket off for you. "Did I say you could touch me?"

Pink spread across his cheeks as he responded with a no, shy all of a sudden. You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt just like at the mall and dragged him to your bedroom. He almost couldn't keep up with your steps. Inside the bedroom you pushed him to the wall, a moan slipping out. You tugged his hair and pulled his head back harshly. "Pants off. Now."

They were on the floor in seconds. "No underwear? You took them off when you were trying on your shirt? Slut," you smirked and sat down on the foot of the bed in front of him.

"You know your place." He got over her lap, flashing his ass for her to admire. He had been doing weighted Romanian split squats at the gym lately. This position on your lap was one he had been in before. But never for acting out in public or calling you something inappropriate in front of a friend.

Your warm hand started rubbing his skin smoothly to prepare for punishment and joy. "Do you remember your safeword?"

"Pear."

"Do you remember my safeword?"

"Pineapple."

"Good. Count, if you don't we'll start over again. Understood, slut?"

"Yes, Mommy," he said with anticipation clear in his tone. He finally had all your attention on him — and your hands on him as well. This is exactly how he wanted the day to go: spend quality time together.

"How many do you deserve?" You asked to test him.

"Uhm... Ten?" He asked, playing dumb.

"Fifteen it is. Twenty if you misbehave," you said and gave him a harsh spank.

"One," he whimpered out, surprised.

The next one was harder.

"Two," he said under his breath.

"Can't hear you, princess," you slapped his ass cheek rougher.

"Three," he yelled out.

He kept his ground, but you wanted to wreck him for how he acted today — if he wanted to be hurt or just go he should've told you and not been a slut — so you hit harder, if possible.

"F-Four," he stuttered in defeat.

You smirked and brought your left hand to his hair, pulling it.

Your right hand blew him with the same strength as before.

"F-Five," he moaned from the beautiful pain.

Spank!

"Fuck! Six!" He cursed.

"Watch your language," you warned and raised your hand up higher and when it came in contact with his skin it made the loudest hitsound.

"S-Seven. So-So-"

Spank!

"-Sorry! Eight," he exclaimed in a moan so high pitched he was embarrassed.

Spank!

"Ah, nine," he moaned loud enough for the neighbours to be awkward around you next time you see them.

Spank!

"Ten. Mommy, please," he cried out of desperation, not sure if he wanted a break or more.

You were only halfway there, yet his dick already had pre-cum leaking out on your jeans.

"Please what?" You asked and delivered a harder one, knowing exactly what he needed.

"E-Eleven. Mommy, touch me, please," he begged pathetically, knowing you would deny him.

The spank got harder at that.

"Twe-elve," he whined like the bitch he was.

You pulled his head back and looked him in the eyes, "Be a good slut and you might get rewarded"

"Thank you, Mommy."

You let his head go back to rest on the bed (gently just like you'd done in the car) and then spanked him harder to see how much he could take.

"Thirteen," he called out.

His ass cheeks were as pink as his cheeks when you greeted him with a kiss to his temple at the mall.

Spank!

"Fo-Fourteen. Mommy!"

His dick stung at this point. He needed you to touch him so damn much.

Spank!

"F-Fifteen," he moaned, crushed.

He closed his eyes harder, waiting for the next spank.

To his surprise, you just touched his ass softly, grabbing here and there, "You were a good slut for me."

"Thank you, Mommy," his ears got pink at how gentle you were being, petting his hair, combing your fingers through it.

"As a reward you get my cum and if you're good enough you'll get to cum too," you whispered as you nibbled on my ear.

"Thank you, Mommy."

You pulled him off your lap, standing up and giving a peck to his forehead before softly pushing him back on the bed. You let your jeans fall down to the floor to be long forgotten. Sunghoon licked his lips at the sight of you in black panties. They were see-through! He was so distracted and suddenly the panties were gone and you were sitting on his waist.

"Please, Mommy, sit on me," he pleaded with a made-up sweet voice, wanting to be on your good side so you wouldn't tease him.

"How much do you want it?" You moved some hair away from his eyes, resting your hand on his jaw.

"So much. Please, please, sit on my face. I want to be good for you now, please," he made sure to look you in the eye with a small pout.

"I know you got jealous and acted like a slut because you wanted my attention, but you know I like good boys more, right?" You mock pouted at him.

He nodded fast, "I know. I'm so sorry, Mommy. Let me prove I'm your good boy. Please?"

"Since you begged so cutely...prove it to me," you said before you moved up until your pussy was above his face.

He eagerly stuck out my tongue and put in the tip between you folds to tease you a little and to prepare for what was coming.

"You think you're gonna make me cum this way, bitch?"

His tongue slipped in further and faster to taste your delicious juices. You arched your back slightly at the stimulation, he smiled against you and started nudging his nose gently against your clit. Your hands found their place behind you, on his stomach. You weren't satisfied with the feeling of fabric, so grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it up so you could touch the skin and small curves of his abs. Sunghoon definitely had more muscles than that guy. His hands went to your butt and, before you protested, they pushed you further down on his face and so his tongue went even deeper.

"Desperate for Mommy's cum?" You asked and grasped a handful amount of his wet hair.

He hummed against your pussy, sending vibrations; he was determined to make you cum so good you'd let him cum too. You yanked his hair slightly and he arched his back a little. To show his appreciation he kissed on your clit. Whimpers started spilling from your mouth and excitement and pride started filling him. Both his face and cock were glistening with pleasure and neediness.

"I'm gonna cum."

He nodded and dove in deeper and licked you like he had been thirsty for you his whole life. You pressed herself lower on him, moaning. He held your thighs as they were beginning to shake. His lips sucked on your clit as if it were your nipple and you finally blessed him with your tasty cum. He licked and slurped till there was nothing left to swallow.

"What do you say now?" You asked as you sat back on his chest, catching your breath.

"You're delicious- I mean, thank you, Mommy."

You chuckled and continued with a question, "Who deserves rewards?"

"Good boys," he replied happily.

"Are you a good boy?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"Yes, you are. Take this off," you said and tugged his shirt, "That shirt from today looked better on you anyway."

He took it off as soon as you told him to. His dick was still standing proud, red from the pleasure and resistance.

"Please, Mommy, sit."

"You think I'm going to let your slutty dick inside me just like that? Go get a condom now."

He hurried to his bag, stark naked in the sunlight from the window. But he didn't care, he just wanted to be inside Mommy. When he got back you had already gotten nude — and that was enough for him to open the condom, put it on and throwing himself on the bed in seconds.

"Don't get too comfortable, sit up," you ordered him as you crawled onto the bed.

He obeyed and rested against the headboard, attention on you. You continued crawling until you sat on his lap.

"Your thighs are so thick and sexy."

"Thank you," he blushed because he'd been going to the gym consistently and your validation made him proud.

"Feels like a sin to make them tremble, but oh well."

You lowered yourself on him until long moans littered the air, both of you sensitive; you from a little overstimulation right after cumming and him from ignoring his pink dick for so long. Without preparation or warning, you bounced up and down on him. He wondered where you get the stamina to do bounce on his dick so well.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he cried out.

He saw your boobs bouncing too and just had to start sucking on one of them, hand palming the other one. You gasped. He was very good with his mouth. Your hips moved faster and Sunghoon couldn't keep his moans inside as he switched his mouth to the other boob. He felt like a pervert but he really really loved how your boobs moved up and down when they weren't in his mouth. You tightened your fingers into his hair and made it harder for him to concentrate and suck. He looked up into your eyes through his long eyelashes and started licking your nipple before putting it between my lips.

"My slut."

He let go of your nipple, "No. I'm your good boy, please," and went back to sucking on it.

"Really?"

"Yes, yes, I am. Please, Mommy." Kiss after kiss was placed on your boobs as an apology for being a shameless horndog back at the mall.

"Such a good boy."

"Mhm," he mumbled not letting go of your nipple, sucking harder, needing you to praise him more.

Your thighs were trembling, an orgasm coming soon. Sunghoon was close too, but he needed your permission first. "Mommy. Mommy. I-" A moan disrupted his sentence. "Ngh, Mommy. I-I'm gonna cum."

You yanked his head back at that and put your lips on his neck, "Cum for me, my good boy."

He filled the condom with his cum.

"Th-Th-Thank you, Mommy."

Your hips rode out his orgasm and he moaned like a slut the whole time. "Mommy, hurts."

"Good." You continued overstimulating him, chasing your second orgasm. He bit his lip, trying not to moan too loudly. Then you came too with a small bite to his neck.

You laid on top of him, just hugging, breathing each other in and pecking at each other's faces and shoulders.

"Want me to run us a bath, Baby?"

His answer was a small pout — your weakness — and a soft nod.

You got up and held his hand, leading him to the bathroom where you threw away the condom in the trash and swayed slowly back and forth as you hugged, waiting for the bathtub to fill with warm water.

"Oh! Almost forgot something," you were confused when Sunghoon let go of the hug.

You smiled as soon as you saw him come back with a lighter and caramel scented candle.

✧ ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ✧ ੈ ✧

"I wanna be your vacuum cleaner

Breathing in your dust

I wanna be your Ford Cortina

I will never rust

If you like your coffee hot

Let me be your coffee pot

You call the shots, babe

I just wanna be yours"

—alex turner

964 notes · View notes

ihave-atummyache · 9 months ago

Text

jewelry

Stray Kids Imagine

OT8

summary: jewelry that shows the world u are their’s.

6.5k words

im not gonna say nsfw but im not gonna say sfw either…. some where in the middle.

absolute tooth rotting fluff tho!

also my seungmin brainrot is insane rn so like… just read and u will see

this is the song that inspired me to write this, can’t explain why, it just did.

Bang Chan:

Chan is definitely the type to absolutely spoil his baby!! Whether it's with jewelry or clothes or just nice words. He is such a caretaker and genuinely enjoys taking care of others.

He actually got you the locket for Valentine's Day. On the front, it has a pretty floral design and on the back in dainty cursive, it has his initials and your initials. You felt the tears immediately spring to your eyes when you opened the little black box.

"Chan! You didn't! This is so pretty. Oh my God," you can't stop the smile from spreading across your face and Chan can't help but mirror your own expression.

"Open it, love," his voice is gentle and you bite down on your lip to try to fight back the smile a little bit. You grab the necklace and gently unwrap it from the cushion before pulling it out and opening the small locket.

Inside is a picture that you and Chan had taken the first time you visited him. You had asked a stranger to take a picture of the two of you in front of the Han River and it turned into one of your favorite pictures of the two of you.

It was the same photo you used for your soft launch and one of your many phone backgrounds of you and Chan. Hyunjin had even painted the picture and gifted it to Chan for his birthday and it hung in his room, right above his desk.

"Baby," your voice cracks and your bottom lip juts out as your eyes fill with more water, "How did I get so lucky? You're literally perfect, you know that?" You finish your sentence and look up at your sweet boyfriend, his eyes swallow you up with pure love and adoration and you hand him the necklace before turning around and sweeping your hair over your shoulder.

"Can you put it on me?" You ask quietly. He grabs the necklace from your palm over your shoulder and twists it until its perfectly straight. He places the necklace over your head and fiddles with the delicate clasp for a bit before placing a kiss to the back of your neck, something he does every time he puts a necklace on you.

Your fingers reach up and gently touch the pendant, looking down at it again. You truly lucked out on getting the most perfect boyfriend you could ever ask for.

You turn around and press your lips against his, swinging your leg over his thighs and straddling his lap. You grab both his cheeks in your hands and hold tightly before you pull away from the kiss and start kissing him all over his face, his dimples, his nose, his forehead, his eyes.

He can’t stop the giggles falling from his lips at your antics. Your love for the gift made him feel absolutely elated.

"I'm so in love with you. It makes no sense," you confess and pull back to look down at your boyfriend again.

"I'm so in love with you, babygirl. You own my heart," his ears redden at his own confession and he grabs your hand from his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to the palm of your hand.

"You really outdid yourself. If this is what our first Valentine's Day is like together then I can't imagine the rest of the holidays," you giggle at him and he smiles against your wrist before letting his hands drop around your waist, pulling you tighter to him.

"I want to make love to you now. I want everything off except this locket. How does that sound?" he asks suddenly and you smile down at him, pressing into his hips a bit harder, applying pressure to where he is slowly getting hard under you.

"Sounds like a plan," you agree and lean in to kiss your sweet boyfriend again.

Lee Know:

Minho is a bit possessive. We all know this. He can't help but wanting to make sure everyone knows that you are his, even in a subtle way such as a necklace.

"Baby? Are you home?" Minho's voice echoed through the empty space of your apartment. He continues walking further into your house until he finally lays eyes on you in your bedroom.

You were knocked out cold, making time for your daily nap. He chuckles as he shrugs his jacket off and places it in the chair at your desk. He reaches into the pocket of the jacket and pulls out the thin chain. He rolls the pendant in his fingers again, a small smile on his lips.

He approaches you where you are on the bed and uses this moment to really just take you in. You look so peaceful, completely relaxed against your pillows and a plushy hugged to your chest.

He gently moves a stray piece of hair away from your face before leaning down and placing a kiss where your hair just was. You twitch a little when his lips meet your skin but you don't wake up.

He gently moves his hand under your neck, careful not to stir you awake, and clasps the necklace to you. It falls just below your collarbone and he leans down to press another kiss to the skin exposed there.

"M-Minho?" you grumble out, slowly pulling your eyes open and being met with the soft eyes of your boyfriend. He knows exactly where to touch you to wake you up and your neck and collarbone have always made you stir.

"Hi, baby," your voice is still raspy from sleep and you can't help yourself from wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into the bed.

He lands on top of you with a chuckle before rolling off of you to the other side of the bed. You look up at him, still a bit dazed in your freshly awoken and cuddly state.

He would never admit it out loud, but he loves when you are sleepy or just waking up. You cling onto him like a baby and it makes his heart want to absolutely explode.

"I got you a gift, pretty," he pushes that same strand of hair from earlier behind your ear and you raise your eyebrows at him.

"Oh? What is it?" you ponder quietly, leaning into his touch. His hand gently trails down your neck before he traces the outline of the chain and rolls the pendant in his fingers.

"You already have it on," he replies, a smirk on his face and your hand slowly moves to your neck, tracing the necklace. You jolt up, suddenly much more awake and get out of bed to look in the mirror at the necklace around your neck.

It's a thin chain with a pillar bar pendant on it. You rub your fingers over the pendant before your notice the engraving on the front. It's his name in Korean on the front but you notice more engraving along the back as well. You gently spin the pendant around and on the back is his name in English.

"Possessive lil guy aren't you?" You tease as he rises from the bed and walks towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his chest to your back. You reach up and gently play in his hair.

"Mhm. You could say that," he agrees and places a kiss on your jawline. You twist the strands around your fingers and smile at your pretty boyfriend in the mirror.

"Your hair is getting long, my kitty," you comment and he breaks his gaze from your eyes to look at himself in the mirror.

"I need a haircut," he replies and meets your eyes again in the mirror. His gaze shifts down your neck, stopping and focusing on your pulse point before continuing down and look at the necklace against your chest.

"Leave it. I like it. Why did you get me this?" You question and drop your hand from his hair to play with the necklace again, sliding the pendant back and forth across the chain.

He shrugs in response and lets his fingers creep under the hem of your shirt, placing his hands against your warm stomach.

"Just because," he replies and you raise an eyebrow at him, not buying it for a second. He lets out a sigh of defeat, knowing you saw right through him.

"I saw some tweets. You're getting a lot of... attention. Male attention, lately. I appreciate them saying how hot of a girlfriend I have but I need them to remember that you are mine," he confesses, rocking the two of you back and forth while his thumbs continue to rub against your stomach.

You hum in response, still fidgeting with the necklace. It's pretty, stunning even. You know it probably cost a fortune but it came from the same guy who told you he would buy you an entire apartment complex so you didn't have to deal with neighbors.

"Also," he places a kiss to where your neck meets your shoulder, "I think it would look pretty dangling over my face while you ride me," he says it so nonchalantly and you smack his arm gently.

"Lee Minho!" You scold but you can't stop the giggle from escaping your lips anyways. He lets out a breathy chuckle against your neck, making goosebumps rise to your skin.

"Never take this off. Okay?" he suddenly asks, his voice much softer and a bit more vulnerable. You turn your head to lock eyes with him and immediately nod.

"Okay," you agree and lean in, pressing your lips against his.

Changbin:

"Is this corny?" Changbin turns his phone to you and shows you the matching bracelets that came up on his feed. They were simple and pretty, a rectangular charm with the advertiser's logo engraved in it. On the other side of the bracelet is half a heart and when placed beside each other, the hearts become magnetic and connect.

"Not at all. I think it's cute, bun," you smile at the screen and then look up at your boyfriend. He is studying your reaction with his own soft smile on his lips, obviously trying to read you and exactly how you feel.

A few weeks later, Changbin is even more giddy and excited to see you than usual. When you open your front door, he is bouncing on the balls of his feet with an adorable, dimply smile on his face.

"What are you so happy about, cutie?" You widen the door further, allowing his infectious smile to cause your own smile on your face. He bounds into your house, slipping his shoes off and making his way to the living room.

Changbin plops down on the couch and only then do you notice the package in his hands. He gently tears it open and opens the box, letting out a small gasp. You approach him from behind to get a look over his shoulder.

"Bun? What is it?" you question and he pats the cushion next to him, signaling for you to sit down. You quickly circle and sit next to him, turning to face him on the couch.

"They came. The bracelets I showed you!�� he exclaims and holds the two pieces of jewelry between your faces. You smile at him and his adorable antics before grabbing one from his hand and flipping it over in your fingers.

His name was engraved into this one and on the back of the half heart was your first initial. You glance up at him and catch him already looking at you, big goofy smile on his face.

"You're the cutest ever, do you realize that?" you question and lean forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, "Help," you wrap the bracelet around your wrist and flip it, holding it clasp up to him.

He lets the other bracelet drop into his lap and quickly clasps yours for you before offering his own wrist and bracelet. The chain was a perfect length. It wasn't tight enough to make you feel claustrophobic but it wasn't so loose that it was tickling you or sliding up and and down your arm and wrist.

You grab his wrist, bringing it to yours and letting the hearts connect before giggling at the action. You pull out your phone and take a video of the bracelets connecting before turning both your wrists over and filming your matching names.

"You're just so lovely, my Binnie," you whisper out after tucking your phone behind you. He leans forward, hands around your waist and places his plush lips against yours.

The two of you are so goofy and smiling that the kiss is practically all clashing teeth and giggles. You wrap your arms around his neck and look behind his head, glancing at the shiny metal around you wrist. How lucky are you to be claimed by Seo Changbin?

Little did you know, he felt even more lucky being able to claim you as his own. He felt an immense amount of pride at the fact that he would be walking around with your name on him at all times. He felt even more prideful when he thought about how someone may compliment him on the bracelet or ask about it and he gets to gush about you.

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin buys you jewelry all the time. He can't help it! He thinks his pretty little thing deserves pretty things. Most are just absolutely stunning necklaces, rings, earrings, bracelets, you name it, he's probably gotten it for you.

The one thing he realizes he has never gotten you, is an anklet. He's seen you wear them before and he thinks they look so pretty around your ankles. He loves the way the chain glitters in the right light and the subtly of the accessory.

Also, being the absolute gem that he is, he absolutely worships your body. Every. Square. Inch. This include your ankles. It's a delicates spot on your body that has become one of his favorites. He pulls your shoes off after a long night and will press a little kiss to your ankle, rubbing out your sore soles.

If he has your legs on his shoulders while pounding into you, he'll turn his head and place gentle kisses and nips to the skin of your ankle. It keeps you grounded and some how drives you even more crazy.

You're sitting on the couch, your feet in his lap and reading your book while he focuses on the show playing in front of him. His hands gently trail around your ankle and down your feet. His touches are gentle but not gentle enough to tickle. If anything, it was making you feel more relaxed and sleepy.

"Do you like anklets, my love?" he suddenly asks and you peer up at him from behind your book, thinking for a moment before nodding.

"I do, actually. I just don't wear them often. They usually get covered up by pants or leggings or whatever so I only wear them when I'm wearing something that'll show them off. Why do you ask?" You inquire, curiously and he shrugs, turning to face the television again.

"No reason," he ends the conversation there and you nod, returning to your book.

A few days later, you receive a text from your boyfriend then a text from the front desk of your apartment complex, notifying you of a package. You hadn't ordered anything. What could you possibly be having delivered? You open the message from Hyunjin first.

loverboy: sent u something (: tell me if u like it honey

You smile, letting the pieces start to fall into place. The package is from your boyfriend and you excitedly bounce up from your bed. You slide your shoes on and make your way down to your apartment's front desk. They hand you the package and it's small, only a few inches wide and flat. You drop your brow to a furrow as you make your way back to your apartment.

You don't recognize the name of the sender but you tear it open as soon as you set foot back into your place. You open the box and inside if a small piece of jewelry with a paper on top. You read the paper first and it says its an anklet.

You smile to yourself, reminiscing on the conversation you two had a few days prior. You pull the jewelry out but what you weren't expecting was for there to be Hyunjin's name on the anklet. Your jaw drops and you smile widely before pulling your phone from your back pocket and ringing your boyfriend.

"You love me sooo badddd," you tease as soon as the line connects. You hear your boyfriend's deep, breathy laugh from the other side of the phone.

"That would be correct. You like it, my love?" he asks. You can't see him but he looked so nervous on the other side of the phone. He leans back against the mirror, surely leaving some marks but he really didn't care at the moment. He chews down on his lip while he waits for your reply.

"I adore it!" you exclaim, excitedly before scurrying to the kitchen table and sitting down. You place your phone on speaker as you debate which ankle to put it on.

"Put it on your left ankle," his voice suddenly breaks the silence, almost like he was reading your thoughts. You chuckle at how incredibly in-tune he is with you.

"You know me too well, Hwang Hyunjin," you tease and pull your left leg up into the chair with you. You wrap the jewelry around your ankle and clasp it.

"Send me a picture," his tone is more demanding than asking and you cant help but immediately obeying when this side of him decides to make an appearance.

You pull up your camera and turn your leg, snapping a picture then sending it to your waiting boyfriend. As soon as it sends, it says read and Hyunjin hums on the other side of the phone.

"Can't wait to have your legs up on my shoulders later. Gonna look so pretty with my name on you like that," he suddenly speaks up, his voice low. He obviously isn't alone at practice and you bite down on your lip at the thought that someone could hear his dirty words for you.

"Mm. The sooner the better," you agree, rubbing your thighs together subconsciously. If there's one thing your boyfriend knows how to do, it's turn you on with just a single sentence.

"I'm wrapping up here. I'll be to yours soon," his voice is gruff and he hangs up before either of you can say anything else to get each other worked up. You can't help yourself though.

You pad away to your bedroom and take your top off before sitting in front of your mirror and crossing your ankles. In the reflection of the mirror is your exposed chest and your barely there shorts and at the bottom of the screen is the anklet with Hyunjin's name. You press send before you can think too hard about it and he replies almost instantly.

loverboy: you're playing with fire, princess. behave.

Han:

"Happy birthday, y/n," Jisung holds the wrapped box out to you and you raise an eyebrow at him, taking the wrapped box with the bow on top from his outstretched hand.

"My birthday isn't for another three months, Sungie," you laugh and he shrugs, biting down on his lip to suppress the smile.

"Christmas came early this year," he replies again and you laugh, placing a hand on your hip.

"Is it my birthday or Christmas? Make up your mind, you goofball," you tease and look down at the gift in your hand again. You sit down cross legged on the floor and Jisung mirrors you, sitting in front of you.

You glance up at him once more, his eyes eager and big as he waits for you to finally open his gift. You smile softly at his cute face before finally beginning to open the gift. You pull the bow off and set it on the coffee table.

You have a shoebox full of mementos from your relationship and he has a habit of topping gifts with a bow and you started to keep them. You can pick out exactly what gift each bow was on still, to this day.

You pull the box from the wrapping paper and slowly open it. It has a necklace, a pretty one. It has two tiny pendants, a sapphire and then a little circular silver pendant with a virgo symbol on it. You flip the silver pendant over and engraved on the back is 'IX・XIV・MM'.

"Baby..." you trail off as you twist the pendant in your hand. Is that an authentic sapphire?!

"Do you like it?" he asks, quietly. You look up at him, shock still on your face before nodding vigorously. A small smile breaks out on his face at you reaction. He quickly realizes your silence is in shock, not because you don't like it.

"Wait until you see the next part," he speaks up and you look up at him, your eyebrows dropping to a furrow. He pulls his hoodie over his head, leaving him in a sleeveless tank and leans closer to you. His hands wrap around a necklace around his neck and you scoot closer.

It was your birth stone and your zodiac sign. You flip the silver circle over and engraved in roman numerals is your own birthday. It was practically identical to the one in your hands.

"Han Jisung. I'm going to cry," you speak out softly. He chuckles and you look up at him, your eyes big and sparkly. Your boyfriend is so thoughtful. Although it is a subtle gesture, it is very clear that he wants a piece of you with him all the time.

"Please don't because then I'll cry," he replies and his hand finds the side of your face, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. Before it can get any deeper, however, you jump up, necklace in hand, and rush off to the bathroom.

You hear your boyfriend chuckle from his spot before you hear him slowly get up and trail behind you. You reach the bathroom and attach the necklace to your neck before turning it and letting the two pendants hang on your chest.

They're so subtle but so pretty. It's a piece of jewelry that you really have no reason to ever take off. It's small enough to go with everything but stands out enough that it would never be overlooked.

"That blue looks stunning on you, darling," Jisung's voice pulls you from your daydream and you turn around to face him, your fingers still playing with the necklace.

"Ya think so?" You ask, tilting your head and he closes the space between you, placing his hands on your hips as you sit back against the bathroom counter.

"Mhm. Although, you do have the magical ability to look good in everything you put on. You even look good in yellow! Who the hell looks good in yellow?" he chuckles and you let your head fall back, a laugh leaving your lips.

"You're too sweet for me. I don't know what I did in my past like to deserve this kind of happiness but i'm very thankful to myself," you whisper and let your hands trail up his exposed arms until you interlock your fingers behind his neck.

"I thank God every night that you're mine," he replies, eyes still big and soft for you. You squeeze your eyes shut at the sappy sentiment and let the blush rush up to your face.

"Maybe i'll just get your name tattooed on me. Just in case I have to take this off," you speak up and Jisung eyes light up at the idea, a bit too excited.

"Would you actually?!" he exclaims, a ridiculous smile on his face and you can't help but roll your eyes, shaking your head.

"That was a joke and you're a little too excited about the idea," you counter and a cute pout makes its way onto his face. You lean forward, kissing the pout from his lips before looking up at him again.

"I love you," you breathe the words out and despite the amount of times you've told each other that you love one another, a blush still climbs to Jisung's face. The same way that you have learned to absolutely adore.

"I love you, endlessly," he replies and leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

Felix:

"What's your ring size?" Felix asks, scrolling on his phone and you freeze, almost dropping the bowl of food in your hand.

"W-what? Me?" you question, pointing to yourself and your boyfriend rolls his eyes before looking up at you. A small smile plays on his lips.

"Who else would I be talking to, angel?" he questions and you clear your throat before sitting down in the chair across from him. You push his bowl of food towards him and he locks his phone, placing it down on the table.

"Relax, baby. I'm not proposing yet. I'm trying to get you a gift. Something for your birthday that I think you would like," he speaks up, a cheeky grin on his face when he realizes just how flustered he has gotten you.

He leans down and takes a spoonful of food into his mouth and you clear your throat again, telling him your ring size for each finger. He quickly grabs his phone and opens the notes app, writing down your answers.

"What are you wanting to get?" you question and he looks up at you from over the bowl, an eyebrow raised.

"It wouldn't really be considered a gift if I told you what it was, would it?" he asks and you take a bite of your own food before shaking your head.

"Can I have a hint?" you inquire instead and Felix chuckles. He always tries to not tell you when he's getting you a gift because it always goes this way. You beg and beg and beg for him to tell you what he got you.

"Sure. It's a ring," he replies sarcastically and you narrow your eyes.

"I gathered that, you little shit," you grumble and he chuckles again, gently kicking your feet under the table with his own.

"You'll love it. I promise," he assures you and you glance up at his pretty eyes. They stare back at you, big and sparkly.

"Promise?" you question, slightly appeased by how assured he is that you'll enjoy your gift.

"Pinky swear," he stands and reaches across the table, holding his pinky out. You stand as well and interlock your pinky with his. You both kiss your thumbs and press them together before leaning towards each other and pressing your lips together in a soft kiss.

The night before your birthday, your boyfriend decided to spend the night. He claimed he wanted to be there as soon as the clock struck midnight so he was the first to tell you happy birthday but he also wanted to be the first to give you your gift... well gifts.

"Happy birthday, my love. You make me the happiest ever," Felix speaks up from beside you. He had to have been watching the clock because you didn't even notice the time change while scrolling through social media.

"I love you," you simply reply and sit up from his chest to kiss him softly on the lips. He pulls away quickly, much quicker than his needy self usually does, and walks towards his bag. He reaches in and pulls out a gift bag before making his way back to the bed and sitting crosslegged facing you.

"Open," he demands and you chuckle, locking your phone and taking the bag from Felix's slightly shaky hands. You reach in and pull the tissue paper out before you're met with three boxes.

You pull all three out at the same time and toss the gift bag to the side before opening the first box. Inside is two rings, both have pinkies on them. If they're placed together, it looks like a pinky swear. You open your mouth to thank him and gush about how much you love him but he interrupts you before you can.

"Open all of them and then let's talk," he chuckles and you smile, nodding in agreement before moving on to the next box. It also had two rings in it and engraved on the inside was you and Felix's initials and your anniversary date.

Finally you reach the last box and open it. A pretty diamond ring sits by itself in the box and you gasp. It was the exact ring that you had favorited a million times on your Pinterest and you look up at Felix with tears in your eyes.

"Felix..." you trail off and he's already looking at you with tears in his eyes.

"Okay, I lied. Maybe I was thinking about proposing. So, y/n... will you please marry-"

"Yes!" You interrupt him before he can finish and throw yourself into his lap, "A million fucking times, yes," You scry into his shoulder and you can feel the deep chuckle leave his chest as he buries his head in your neck.

Seungmin:

“I love that choker that Innie had on. With his name on it? I just know it costs an arm and a leg though,” you chuckle to your friend on video call and she nods at you.

“No but seriously. The stylists ate with that one. The whole look was just-”

“Okay! No thirsting over Jeongin! Please!” you interrupt her and she just laughs at you as your bedroom door creaks open. You look over your shoulder and are met with your boyfriend’s pretty face.

“Thirsting over Jeongin?” Seungmin questions, an eyebrow raised at you and you chuckle before pointing at your phone.

“Somebody is talking about how good Innie looked in that choker with his name on it,” you roll your eyes and your friend laughs on the phone.

“You started talking about it first!” She objects but you shake your head at her.

“No, I said I wanted one of my own. I didn’t say anything about how he looked in it. I was commenting about how good I would look in it,” you defend yourself and Seungmin chuckles, plopping down on his stomach on the bed next to you, mirroring your position.

“Mm. That definitely would suit you, pup,” he chuckles when you immediately blush, knowing your friend is listening in on the other side and watching you two.

“As hot as you two probably look fucking, I would rather gauge my eyes out than witness it. Love ya, y/n. Bye!” she rushes out before hanging up the call, not even giving you time to reply.

You let your head fall into the pillow, burying your burning face from Seungmin’s eyes. You felt hot all over and all he had done is give you one little compliment.

“You got me all flustered, Kim Seungmin,” you mumble, your voice muffled by the cotton but he just chuckles before flipping over onto his back and pulling you towards him.

“Hush. I’m the one that’s hard right now because of this thought, not you,” he counters you and you slap him gently on the chest, mumbling out something along the lines of ‘because I don’t have a cock that can get hard’.

A few weeks later, you’re at Seungmin’s place when there’s a knock at the door. He opens it and at the doormat is a package. He grins before picking it up and taking it to his room. You’re too preoccupied in the kitchen, fixing some food, to even notice he hasn’t returned until you hear him call for you.

“Baby? Come here!” His voice calls out to you and you turn around, realizing he isn’t in his chair where you last saw him and make your way to his bedroom.

“Yes? I wanna get this food done before the boys get home… what’s that?” you point to the leather in his hand and he holds it up, facing the outside towards you.

It’s a leather choker with big silver letters, “KSM” on the front. He reaches behind him and pulls out something that couldn’t be anything short of a collar with a little tag on it.

“Come here,” he beckons you to him and your feet move before your brain can even process that he called you towards him. It’s like your body moves on autopilot with him, ready to obey his every command.

“Kneel.” he demands and once again, you oblige. You settle on your knees between his legs, resting your hands on either one of his thighs.

“Which would you like to put on, pup?” He asks, a smirk playing on his lips. The pink choker/collar catches your attention again and you gently pick up the tag, turning it over.

On the back, it has simple writing: ‘Property of Kim Seungmin’. You flip it over again and instead of your name on the front, it’s just says ‘Pup’. You shift on your knees and pull your lip between your teeth before looking up at Seungmin through your eyelashes.

“You pick,” your voice is soft and you place both your hands back on his thighs, rubbing gently as your eyes dart back and forth between the two chokers.

“You like them then?” he asks and places both chokers into one hand before using his free hand to gently stroke the side of your hair, pushing a few stray strands behind your ears.

“I do,” you nod, forcing the words out. You know he will scold you if you don’t use your words and something in you tells you that being a brat wouldn’t work in your favor right now.

“What a good girl you’re being. So obedient. How about we wear the black one while you finish dinner and while we’re in front of the boys. We’ll save the pink one for just us,” he strokes your hair again and you nod.

He drops the pink collar and wraps the black choker around your neck, securing the buckle. His hands trail down either one of your shoulders, making chills rise at his touch.

“So pretty. Such a pretty puppy for me, aren’t you?” he asks and you nod quickly, trying to keep being the good girl he wants you to be.

“Let’s go finish cooking, baby,” he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, helping you off your reddening knees and back towards the kitchen.

I.N:

“Here, babe. I’m gonna be gone for a few weeks and I know that isn’t too long but I’m still gonna miss you like crazy,” Jeongin hands you a little box and you smile at him. It’s rare that you see this soft, confessional, side of him. It’s cute and so very sweet.

“I love you, Innie. I miss you already,” you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips. You look down at your hands and open the box. Inside was a little black bracelet with a small, rectangular attachment and a leather strap.

You pull it out, eyebrows dropping in confusion. You drop the box and flip the bracelet, examining the leather strap. On the inside was a little message, burned into the leather.

lNo matter how far, my love for you is never ending.

“Innie, I’m gonna cry,” your bottom lip drops into a pout and he gently takes the bracelet from you. He secures it on your wrist and in this moment is when you notice that he has the exact same bracelet in a different color on his own wrist.

“I haven’t even told you the best part and you’re already tearing up, crybaby,” he chuckles and you blink away the tears behind your eyes. You squint at the nickname and he leans forward, kissing the furrow between your brows.

He drops your hand and reaches up to touch his own bracelet. When he does, yours glows and vibrates. He touches it three times, causing three vibrations and it lights up three times.

“No matter where we are, I can tell you I love you and we can tell each other that we’re thinking about one another,” he smiles at you, sheepishly and you let out a shaky breath. He’s so cute, it hurts.

“Baby, I don’t want you to go. Ever. Can’t you just stay here with me forever?” you ask quietly and interlock your hands with his. You bring one hand up to your mouth and gently kiss his knuckles before letting his arms fall, keeping your hands locked together.

“If I could, I would, honey. I hope you realize that. You’re so important to me and I’m scared I don’t tell you enough. I love you in a way that is honestly so terrifying. Nobody has ever owned a part of my soul until I met you,” he confesses and brings your hands up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles in the same way you just had.

“You don’t have to tell me, Innie. I know you love me. You know I love you just as much, don’t you?” you question and he immediately nods. He knows that you belong to him just as much as he belongs to you.

“I’ll be back before you know it. It’s only a few weeks,” he reassures you before leaning in and letting his lips entangle with yours.

A week later, you’re sitting in your office. The days have seemed much gloomier and longer without your angel here to be with you. He truly brought a kind of light to your life that you had never though would be possible. He literally brought technicolor to your life and you couldn’t be more grateful.

As if he somehow knew you were thinking about him, the bracelet on your wrist suddenly vibrates. You jump lightly at the surprise and smile down at the bracelet when it vibrates three times.

You pick up your phone and send a text to your boyfriend.

i love you most. goodnight my love. i miss you like crazy

You knew it was close to 3 am in his time zone and you know he wasn’t near his phone but it was still nice to know he would be waking up to the texts of reassurance from you. You press the bracelet three times, confirming in that moment that you love him too.

a/n: i gotta stop calling jisung cute but like... hes so cute>_< seungmin is so sajagsgssk. i NEED him. BAD.

514 notes · View notes

lilhwahwa · 10 months ago

Text

ATEEZ Reaction: You can't fall asleep (Yungi. ver)

★|•°∵ Scenario: Your boyfriend reacts to you not being able to fall asleep.

★|•°∵ Idolbf!yungi x nonidol!reader

{PICS NOT MINE / FROM PINTEREST}

MASTERLIST

Yunho

Yunho made sure to spend well deserved time together this holiday season by inviting you over to the dorms. Most members had gone home to visit their families and he had the big apartment to himself. He prepared a cozy atmosphere by cleaning, preparing food and activities (you both just ended up eating junk food on the couch and watching a movie). After Yunho noticed you getting sleepy, he suggested going to bed and you agreed. Although you wished to stay up just a little later your body was drained from working and his bed was inviting you in with its fluffy blanket. Yunho asked if it would be okay for him to join Yeosang for a game and since you thought you'd fall asleep anyway, you agreed. Besides, watching him play was always entertaining.

After the initial twenty minutes you expected it would take you to fall asleep, you open your eyes with a sigh and began scanning small details on the ceiling of Yunho's room. The keyboard buttons moved quickly as Yunho's long fingers skilfully worked his character around. You sigh again and twist onto your side in frustration, hoping to find the exhaustion you felt just a while ago. Your mind couldn't formulate thoughts and begged you for sleep but your body just didn't comply.

Yunho had headphones on so you assumed he wouldn't hear you huffing and turning. You hug the blanket closer to your body and try to focus on a scenario playing in your head only to not get anywhere. Once a scenario made it to your head, it was replaced by the fact that you can't sleep and it'd go in loops, sabotaging itself.

You gasp from surprise when you feel a hand slide over your side and wrap around your torso. You look up to see Yunho hovering above you.

"Baby, am I being too loud?" He asked with a small pout, looking for an answer as he scans the frustation in your tired eyes. His fingers draw small circles on your tummy and you suddenly feel relaxed. Is his touch all it takes?

"No, I just thought I could sleep but I- it's just not coming to me" you sigh just as a yawn leaves you.

"Then..." he thinks before swiftly leaving your side without another word. You plop yourself up on your elbows to watch as he shuts his computer off and you immediately want to protest. You didn't want him to interrupt his gaming session.

"I know what you will say, I want to sleep now" Yunho cuts you thoughts short before you can protest. He slides into bed behind you and immediately stretches his long arms out to pull you closer into his body. You turn to face him and bury your nose in his shirt.

"You could've kept playing" you grumbled

"But I'd rather lay with you" he chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. "Especially since you can't even seem to sleep without me" he adds teasingly knowing you'd roll your eyes if they were open. He finds your noises of protest adorable and shifts deeper into his pillow to get comfortable.

"Good night baby"

Mingi

You got it, really. It wasn't your first rodeo.

Mingi was a hard worker, perfectionist in anything he did and being in a group only seemed to push that side of him out more. He wanted to make sure everything was prepared on time and to high standard, which was one of the things you admired about him.

You also admired it when all of his attention was on you. How he'd look at you with shining eyes as if you carried the universe on your shoulders. How his plump lips would shyly but surely pepper kisses over you face. Or how his voice would soothe you as he praised you every other sentence. Which unfortunately, was not on your agenda today.

It was kind of inevitable and you truly understand that he was tired. Him agreeing to watch a movie together even efter finishing tour rehearsals was a generous gesture. Even though exhausted, he invited you to the dorms (after convincing the other grumpy and tired members) to spend at least some time together. You were grateful for the initiative, but couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed when not even twenty minutes into the movie, snores escaped his slightly parted, plump lips. His arms that had been holding onto you, were now limp over your body.

Although the warmth of his body behind you on the living room couch was comforting, it was not enough to save the fact that the couch was hard and small. You weren't completely covered with a blanket and the weather had not shown mercy lately. Mingi's limp body also didn't allow you to turn at all so now you were stuck against him, back to chest as he snores. You shiver at the cool air in the room and try to focus on the movie still playing. Maybe the boring contents would make you fall asleep quicker.

You knew that him dozing off so easily like this truly meant he was exhausted and waking him up felt almost blasphemous. You felt shame in bothering a person so tired and so willing to still be with you.

"Can't sleep`?" you snap away from your thoughts as you barely catch the raspy voice mumbling in your ear. "You keep moving" Mingi yawns and lifts his limbs off you to allow your body to finally turn to face him. With an apologetic look on your face you turn, barely able to keep in a sound of endearment as you watch your sleepy boyfriend fighting to open his eyes to check on you.

"Sorry, baby" you whisper and reach out to stroke his flushed cheek, hoping he'd just go back to sleep because you'd feel horrible if he didn't. Mingi reached behind him to the back of the couch where a blanket had been folded over it and lazily unwraps the material to throw it over your bodies.

"Com'ere" he sighs and adjusts for you to lay your head on his chest, holding you safely and securely on the small space of the couch. "Need to make sure you get your beauty sleep" he mumbles and squeezes your body one last time before seemingly slipping off to sleep again, unable to fight it back this time. You smile to yourself and nuzzle closer to him, more comfortable and warm. His breathing calms you as you finally drift off.

#ateez reactions #ateez reaction #ateez scenario #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez imagine #mingi #yungo #kpop reaction #mingi fluff #yunho fluff #mingi x reader #yunho x reader

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mythicalmaven · 4 months ago

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Beyond Boundaries • Oscar Piastri (PART FIVE)

Masterlist

Yes! You saw it correct! Time for chapter 5 already! <3 cant wait for chapter 6 already I tried something new this chapter & that was including some gifs in the chapter to make it a little more dynamic! It's just a little trial, so please let me know if you liked it or not, so that I know if I should include those more often :) So, just for the record, the chapter isn't finished after the gifs, it continues below the gif! :)

↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!reader (norris!reader) ↳word count: 4.2K ↳ parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, ↳chapter warnings: jealousy, first kiss, smut, 18+ content (mdni!), oral (male!receiving), fingering, emotional rollercoaster, brothers teammate trope, bestfriend!reader

↳series summary: Since Oscar joined McLaren as your brother’s teammate, you two have quickly become best friends. Recently promoted to be Oscar’s physiotherapist, you both relish the opportunity to spend more time together. However, as the new role brings you closer, Oscar finds himself grappling with unexpected feelings and rising tension, leaving him conflicted about how to handle his emotions

The rest of the holiday went by excruciatingly slow, the interactions between you and Oscar have been limited, you honestly were pretty much unable to look him in the eye, until you were pretty much forced by your job duties. Which meant you both had to put on a straight face and be act like the professional ones. The first time you spoke about what happened during your shared holiday, was the Wednesday before the Australian Grand Prix. You both had to attend the driver's meeting that was planned. His initial behavior towards you was distant and cold, something you completely understand. You had been avoiding him and he obviously noticed that.

Afterwards you had decided to take Oscar aside, asking him if he was okay with having a talk with you. It took you a few days to work up the courage to talk to him. You knew you shouldn't have avoided him for so long, he didn't deserve that treatment and you knew it. The talk with Oscar resulted in a big relief and a reparation of your friendship, a friendship with maybe potential for a little more.

*flashback to wednesday*

The two of you were sitting on the couch in Oscar's drivers' room, both looking at the floor. Talking about what happened during the holiday and how you both felt about it. You apologized to him about the way you handled everything and how you treated him. It was a good and relieving conversation, both glad that you made up. Because the both of you honestly couldn't stand this a day longer.

"I missed you" Oscar mumbled under his breath "I've felt annoyingly incomplete these past days"

You rested your head on his shoulder "I missed you too, Osc" you murmured back at him "I missed our jokes, our silly little facetime calls in the middle of the night, our movie night. I've missed my best friend"

Friendzone, that's what Oscar felt himself getting pushed back into. He rolled his eyes, puffing out a frustrated sigh "Don't you think you should stop calling me that?"

You looked at him confused "What? Why?"

Oscar raised an eyebrow at you, rolling his eyes "I think we both know we crossed that line the moment you gave me a handjob, don't you think?"

You chuckled at him, laughing it off a little "It wasn't just me! You pleasured me too, you know?"

Oscar threw his hands up defensively "Hey! You started it!" he joked back at you.

Another laugh left your lips "Sure, we went beyond boundaries, but that doesn't mean you can't still be my best friend?"

The Australian driver jokingly shot you a suggestive look "What if I don't want to be just your best friend?"

"Osc.." you uttered "We both know we shouldn't go down that road"

"I know, and I agree that it's for the best if we don't, but it doesn't change my feelings for you" he said, verbally admitting his feelings towards you for the first time "I can't change the fact that I'm in love with you"

You looked at him, softly placing a hand on his thigh, trying to comfort both yourself and him. You wanted to kiss him, but you can't, you shouldn't. It tore you apart, but it was for the best. You found yourself unable to reply to his words, too overwhelmed.

"Just be honest with me please, do you have feelings for me?" Oscar asked, placing his hand on top of yours.

You looked at him, his brown eyes meeting yours "Yes"

*back to present*

It was Sunday, which meant it was race day. The race took the least expected turn, which lead to Max not even finishing and Carlos securing another win. The whole ordeal resulting in your brother on the podium for a 3rd place and Oscar finished right behind him in 4th. To say that you were proud, would have been a massive understatement. Event though the boys themselves might be a little disappointed about not reaching the top step, you were over the moon. To celebrate Carlos' victory the drivers had decided to go to a well known nightclub in Melbourne.

You were currently trying to convince Oscar to join the lot of you, which seemed to be a lot more difficult than you would have liked "Come on Oscar! You gotta come!"

Charles piped in, leaning on your shoulder "Yes! Listen to y/n! It won't be as bad as you think!" Charles exclaimed "And! Not entirely unimportant, those nightclubs are full of hot women. You cant convince me that you wouldn't enjoy having a little fun with a gorgeous woman"

"I don't need a random girl twerking on me, thanks. I'm fine where I am" Oscar replied a little uncomfortable. Yes he definitely would enjoy having a little fun with a gorgeous woman; but only if that woman was you.

Charles looked at him and rolled his eyes "Don't be a party pooper, Piastri" he joked, putting his arm around your shoulder, sending Oscar a little puppy dog face "Do it for us?"

"Fine" he huffed, finally giving in

"Yayy!" you cheered, jumping into Oscar's arms, hugging him enthusiastically.

—————⋆₊⁺☾⋆the nightclub⋆☾⋆₊⁺—————

A few hours had passed since you all arrived at the nightclub, one that was pretty private and today only allowed entrance to the drivers, f1 staff and their invitees as well as a few other high established guests. So to speak, it was safe for the drivers to have a fun night out without the media getting involved.

You couldn't deny you might have had a few too many cocktails, completely unaware of just how drunk you were. Oscar stood at the bar, a beer in one hand and the other in his pocket, watching you intently. His gaze was locked on Carlos, who was dancing with you far too sensually for Oscar's liking.

The music thrummed through the room, a sultry beat promising temptation. You felt Carlos's steady hand on your waist as you moved together, the rhythm guiding your steps. His touch was warm and reassuring, but your eyes kept darting over his shoulder, seeking out Oscar.

Oscar stood on the opposite side of the room, his gaze fixed on you. He watched every sway of your hips, every flick of your hair, the intensity in his eyes palpable. You met his stare head-on, a smirk playing on your lips as you leaned closer to Carlos, your fingers trailing lightly down his arm.

You saw the muscle in Oscar's jaw tighten, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Carlos was getting on his nerves today. If he wasn't driving him off the track, he was stealing the girl of his dreams. Yes, Oscar knew he was exaggerating the problem, but with too much beer in his system, he was extra annoyed.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" Lando asked, following Oscar's gaze. "Oh, that's what's bothering you," he chuckled.

Oscar and Lando's friendship had fortunately returned to normal quickly after the whole ordeal. After his talk with you, Lando immediately went to Oscar, apologizing for the situation. They discussed many things, including Oscar's feelings for you, which Oscar found incredibly scary due to his previous reaction. Lando admitted he had been too overprotective and childish. He told Oscar he realized he would always be protective over his sister, but if she had to date someone, it might as well be someone he trusted more than anyone, pretty much giving him a green light.

Oscar downed the rest of his beer in one go, almost slamming the glass on the bar, and ordered two shots. "I need more alcohol," he huffed.

"Oscar, she's single and drunk, it doesn't mean anything to her. She probably just wanted to have a little fun and Carlos was at the right place at the right moment" Lando laughed, knowing his sister well. "And besides, I can guarantee you Carlos isn't interested in her that way. They just like to flirt sometimes."

"Yeah, everyone but me," Oscar huffed, handing Lando one of the shots he ordered.

Lando laughed again, rolling his eyes. "That's your own fault, you idiot. You're the one standing by the bar instead of on the dance floor."

"I can't dance," Oscar stated simply, trying not to say too much.

"Mate, if you dance with her, she'll probably take the lead anyway," Lando began, running a hand through his curls, looking back at his sister. "And you're blind as well, by the way."

Oscar gave the Brit a confused look before Lando immediately opened his mouth. "Oscar, it disgusts me to say this because she is my sister. But she's literally undressing you with her eyes. Eww." Lando pulled a disgusted face before continuing. "She's been looking at you pretty much every few seconds. I know my sister; she's one hundred percent trying to make you jealous, mate."

"Even if she is, what am I supposed to do about that?" Oscar scoffed, redirecting his gaze towards you to see if Lando was right. "She's the one who told me we shouldn't be together."

"She said you guys shouldn't date; she didn't say anything about being friends with benefits, did she?" Lando said, pulling yet another disgusted face. "It's honestly downright revolting to talk about my sister doing stuff like that, but someone had to tell you because I'm going insane from all your pining."

While the two boys stood there, Daniel joined them, putting his arm around Lando's shoulder. "Lando is right, you know."

"See! Even Danny agrees!" Lando exclaimed.

Daniel laughed at Lando's enthusiasm, glad to see he made up his mind. "You could always give her a taste of her own medicine. Go dance with my sister over there," he said, pointing at the brunette dancing with Pierre and Charles. "Just whisper in her ear that I sent you and that you need to make Y/N jealous, and I'm sure she'll play along."

"Daniel, how do you expect me to do that? I have the social skills of a peanut," Oscar replied.

The two boys laughed at Oscar, finding it incredibly funny how awkward he could be. "Just go! Go with the flow, come on, live a little!"

"Ugh, fine," Oscar huffed, a sigh of annoyance leaving his lips as he walked off towards the crowd of people on the dance floor.

Lando looked back at Daniel, giving him a smirk. "Mint."

"It's funny to see how quick you turned around. I'm proud of you, though," Daniel told Lando, still leaning his head on the younger one's shoulder.

"Would be a little hypocritical of me, now wouldn't it?" Lando replied, turning around in Daniel's arms, giving him a quick, sneaky peck on the cheek before pulling away quickly to make sure no one saw.

"Honestly surprised she hasn't figured it out yet. We've been a little too obvious, no?" Daniel asked.

Lando chuckled, taking a sip from his drink. "And that's exactly why she hasn't caught on to it yet. I'll tell her eventually, though."

Meanwhile Lando and Daniel were talking, Oscar was already on the dance floor, his arms around Michelle, Daniel's sister. He explained his plan to her, which she replied to with a roll of her eyes and a giggle, but gladly agreed to. It felt wrong, horribly wrong. The alcohol was making it a lot easier, kinda served as liquid courage.

"She's looking" Daniel's sister whispered in his ear, gliding her arms over his back.

As the music shifted to a slower, more sensual rhythm, he pulled her close, their bodies moving in perfect synchrony. He whispered something in her ear that made her laugh, her hand resting comfortably on his shoulder.

You felt a sharp pang of jealousy twist in your gut. Carlos must have sensed the change in your demeanor because he gave you a questioning look. But you were too focused on the scene unfolding before you to offer any explanation.

Oscar's hand was low on Michelle's back, guiding her movements with a practiced ease. She looked up at him through her lashes, a playful smile on her lips, and he responded with a grin of his own, his eyes flicking to you for the briefest of moments. It was a challenge, a direct provocation.

Determined not to let him see how much it affected you, you pressed closer to Carlos, your movements becoming more fluid and seductive. You laughed at something Carlos whispered, but the sound was hollow even to your own ears.

Across the room, Oscar spun Michelle, his hand lingering on hers a fraction longer than necessary. He dipped her, their faces inches apart, and your heart raced with a mixture of anger and something you didn't want to name. When he pulled her back up, their gazes locked, and the air between them seemed as though it crackled with unspoken tension.

But it was the look he shot you afterward, a look filled with defiance and raw emotion, that made your breath catch. The dance floor had become a battleground, each movement a strategic play in a game of jealousy and desire. And neither of you was willing to back down.

Carlos's hand slid up your arm, his touch gentle but firm, grounding you. "You okay?" he murmured, concern lacing his voice.

You forced a smile, nodding. "Yeah, just... caught up in the moment."

But as you glanced back at Oscar, now laughing with Michelle as if nothing else mattered, you knew the truth. The moment was far from over, and the stakes had never been higher.

"You're trying to make him jealous, aren't you?" Carlos whispered in your ear, a smirk growing on his lips.

"Duh, obviously" you retorted, pulling the Spaniard even closer, your arms around his neck inching his face even closer to you.

"Well, I think it's working. He's coming over" he spoke in a low voice "Keep your eyes on me until he's here, cariño"

You tried your best not to look behind you, feeling the adrenaline surge through your body, nerves overwhelming you. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your arm, the familiar warmth of Oscar's fingers enclosing your upper arm, pulling you out of Carlos' grasp. You looked into his eyes, and before you could react, he cupped your cheek in his hand and smashed his lips to yours.

The kiss was fierce and urgent, a release of all the emotions both of you had been holding back. His lips moved against yours with a desperate intensity, and you matched his fervor, your hands flying to his shoulders, then tangling in his hair. You could taste the faint bitterness of beer on his tongue as it slipped into your mouth, and the sensation sent a shiver down your spine.

Oscar's other hand slid around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Your bodies moved in sync, pressing against each other as if trying to meld together. You tugged at his hair, eliciting a low groan from him that you felt reverberate through your own chest.

The kiss grew messier, more frantic, fueled by the alcohol coursing through your veins. His hands roamed your back, gripping and kneading, while your fingers traced the line of his jaw, down to his neck, then back up to his hair. The world around you blurred into nothingness; there was only Oscar, his touch, his taste, his heat.

Eventually, the need for air forced you both to break apart, but only just. Your foreheads rested together, your breaths mingling in the small space between you. His eyes were still closed, his lips slightly parted, and you could feel his heartbeat echoing the wild rhythm of your own.

Oscar's voice was a rough whisper as he spoke, "I've wanted to do that for so long."

You nodded slightly, your fingers still tangled in his hair. "Me too."

For a moment, neither of you moved, savoring the closeness, the shared warmth, the unspoken promise hanging in the air. The nightclub continued to pulse around you, but in that moment, it felt like you were the only two people in the world.

Oscar pressed his lips to yours again, more a short brush of your lips this time "Come back to the hotel with me? No strings attached" he proposed, his voice a little husky.

That's how you both ended up in the elevator, on its way to the floor where both of your hotel rooms were located. Oscar had pinned you against the elevator wall, his lips feverishly peppering your neck with kisses, unable to hold back. His hands roamed from your back to your stomach, slipping under your top to grab your hips, his thumbs pressing into your hipbones.

"I need you so bad, love," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and ragged.

"Fuck, Osc— I-I need you too," you moaned out, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer.

His mouth moved up to capture your lips in a searing kiss, tongues tangling with a desperation that made your head spin. You could taste the remnants of alcohol on his tongue, mixed with the raw desire that fueled both of you. Your hands explored his body, fingers slipping under his shirt to feel the hard muscles of his back, the heat of his skin.

Oscar's grip tightened on your hips, pulling you flush against him. The elevator hummed around you, but all you could focus on was the sensation of his hands, his mouth, his body pressing into yours. He trailed kisses along your jawline, nipping at your earlobe before returning to your lips with renewed hunger.

You arched into him, your back pressing harder against the cool metal wall of the elevator. The contrast between the cold surface and Oscar's fiery touch sent shivers down your spine. His hands slid up, pushing your top higher, his fingers splaying over your ribs as if trying to memorize every inch of your skin.

"Oscar," you breathed, your voice a mix of urgency and need.

He responded with a low growl, capturing your lips once more in a kiss that stole your breath away. One hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as his other hand gripped your waist, anchoring you to him. The elevator dinged, signaling your arrival at the desired floor, but neither of you moved, lost in the moment.

Reluctantly, Oscar broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily. His eyes burned with desire as they locked onto yours. "You okay with my hotel room?" he asked in a whisper, his voice husky with promise

You nodded, unable to form coherent words, your mind still reeling from the intensity of the kiss. Hand in hand, you stumbled out of the elevator, anticipation thrumming through your veins as you made your way to Oscar's room, ready to lose yourselves in each other.

Oscar reached inside of his pockets to grab his keycard, fumbling with it to open the door. When he finally managed to open it, he pulled you inside with him. As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, Oscar pinned you against the wall, his body pressing into yours. His breath was hot against your ear as he murmured huskily, "I can't wait any longer."

His lips found yours in a heated kiss, his hands roaming your body with a desperate need. One hand slid up under your top, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist, while the other moved lower, slipping under your skirt. You gasped as his fingers brushed against your inner thigh, teasingly close to where you ached for him.

"Oscar," you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire. "You have no idea how much I want you," he whispered seductively, his lips grazing your jawline.

His fingers found their way to your core, slipping beneath the fabric of your panties. You moaned softly as he began to caress you, his touch both gentle and insistent. His other hand cupped your cheek, tilting your head so he could claim your lips once more.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "I need to make you feel good."

You could only respond with a whimper, your hands clutching at his shoulders as his fingers moved with expert precision. He circled your sensitive nub, then slipped a finger inside you, his thumb still working on your clit. The dual sensations had you arching into him, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

"That's it, love," he purred, his lips now trailing down your neck. "Let go for me."

He added another finger, curling them just right, and your world narrowed down to the feel of his touch and the sound of his voice. His whispered sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how beautiful you were, how much he needed you, how he wanted to watch you come undone.

Your body responded to his every word, the tension building inside you until it was almost unbearable. "Oscar," you gasped, your nails digging into his back.

"I've got you," he breathed softly, his fingers moving faster, his thumb pressing more firmly. "Come for me, love."

With a cry, you shattered around him, your body trembling as waves of pleasure coursed through you. He held you through it, his fingers still working you gently, drawing out every last bit of your orgasm.

When you finally came down, your forehead rested against his, both of you breathing heavily. He withdrew his hand, bringing it up to cradle your face as he kissed you tenderly, his touch now soft and soothing.

"You're amazing," he whispered, his voice filled with love and awe.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the physical pleasure. "So are you," you replied breathlessly, your fingers tracing his jawline "I need you to fuck me, Osc"

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I don't want to remember my first time with you as a drunk encounter against my hotel room door." he admitted, honesty evident in his voice.

"At least let me make you feel good then" you smiled at him, feeling a sudden boost of confidence taking you over as you flipped the two of you around, Oscar now being the one pinned to the wall. You send him a lustful look and sank to your knees, looking up at him with (not so) innocent eyes.

Oscar let his head fall back against the wall, letting out a soft groan as he felt your hands explore his thighs. His hands moving to your hair, tangling his fingers in it. You fingers were moving extremely slowly, fully on purpose, trying to make the young Australian go insane. You carefully unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pulling it down his thighs. You used your teeth to pull his boxers down, causing Oscar to let out an almost embarrassing whine "Fucking tease" he uttered, his voice nothing but a rough whisper.

You lips traveled from his abdomen to his thighs and back, placing soft kisses everywhere, except for where he needed your lips the most. The sensation was electric as your lips met Oscar's skin, biting, sucking, and leaving a trail of marks in their wake.

Oscar tugged at your hair and moaned out loud as you finally closed your lips around the head of his cock, sucking softly. Your mouth felt even better than it did in his fantasies, Oscar felt like he was in heaven. He didn't want to feel like a teenager and cum too quickly, but the alcohol in his system and the way you worked your magic on him, caused the knot in his stomach to tighten quickly. Adrenaline and heat moving through his body, taking a tighter grip on your hair "Fuck, y/n"

You licked and sucked, causing Oscar's breath to get caught in his throat. Tongue dancing over the sensitive flesh, coaxing a gasp from Oscar. Each movement sent waves of extreme pleasure coursing through his body, moans only growing louder every second. Unable to hold back the sound escaping his lips.

You then took his whole length in your mouth, your nose almost touching his abs, before releasing most of his member, except for the tip. You looked up at him through your lashes as you twirled your tongue against the underside of his cock "F-Fuck... wait" Oscar uttered, stumbling on his words, his breath coming out in ragged puffs.

You pulled off him for a little while and looked at him, a little concerned "What's wrong?" you asked softly

"F-Fuck, I'll come if you do that again"

A smirk formed on your lips, Oscar's dick disappears back between your lips. You bob your head up and down again, the rhythm pretty much perfect for Oscar. Another satisfied moan escapes his lips, right before you repeat your previous action, immediately feeling his himself get closer to the edge. He tried to pull you off his cock, but you refused, only sucking him harder, your eyes meeting his again.

Oscar feels his orgasm washing over him in a way he has never experienced before, emptying himself in your mouth. You swallowed it all, before slowly pulling away, before you slowly rose from your knees, wiping your lips with the back of you hand. Your lips were puffy and red, your hair a mess. The sight of it almost enough to make Oscar get hard all over again.

—————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺—————

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Taglist @aceyalonso @saachiep81 @landosgirlxoxo @andruuu28

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putellas14 · 11 months ago

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Home for the Holidays (Alexia Putellas x Reader ficlet)

18. "cancelling all other plans so they can spend the entire holidays together."

Hope you don't hate me for being a few weeks late. This one's not the best but covid really took me out. Merry Christmas, dear friends. I hope 2024 is full of magic for you all.

"Are you excited to go visit your family for Christmas?" Lola asked you at the end of the last training before Christmas. This was your third year in Madrid and every Christmas, you left Spain to visit your family in Denmark. You usually looked forward to the time with them since you didn't get to go home often.

"Yeah!" you lied. "We're going to make cookies like we do every year and I've been on a crafting kick, so I made a bunch of pinterest-y crafts to give them." You hadn't told anyone but you were dreading going home this year. Not because you didn't love your family but because you didn't want to leave Alexia alone. Her mom and sister had gone on a vacation for a week to Japan and due to a volcanic eruption, they had gotten stuck there. So far, there was no news on whether they'd make it back this weekend for Christmas.

Not that anyone knew you and Alexia were dating. That you wanted to throw your traditions to the wind and start building new ones with Alexia.

"When do you leave?"

"In the morning. I have the first flight out at 6am."

"That's too early," Lola said, fake shuddering. "Merry Christmas, Y/N," she said, picking up her bags. "I hope you have a great time."

"Thanks, Lol. Merry Christmas." You smiled warmly at her as she walked away. You finished packing your bag and walked out to the parking lot. On the drive back to your apartment, you tried calling Alexia. They had finished training for two weeks yesterday and had a team Christmas party tonight. It surprised you to get her voicemail. Hanging up, you sighed, hoping she was alright. She loved Christmas normally and you knew it was incredibly hard for her to be without her family.

Once you were home, you turned on all the Christmas lights you'd put up. Bright colors and twinkly white lights illuminated your home, bringing a huge smile to your face. The Christmas tree in the corner was filled with the ugliest ornaments you could find. Garlands and tinsel were hung over every window. The older you got, the more time you spent away from home, the more you reveled in tacky Christmas décor.

An hour later, you were curled on the couch with a large bowl of soup, a cheesy Christmas movie on the television, and your puppy sprawled out next to you on the couch. As the couple on the screen slowly fell in love, your mind drifted to the woman you loved. And you started to plan. There was no way you could leave her alone at Christmastime. The thought of her alone dampened all your Christmas spirit.

The next morning, you packed up your bags and the puppy and made your way to the train station. When you should have been touching down in Copenhagen, you were stepping off the train in Barcelona. Although Zazu had only been to Barcelona once, he led you right to her apartment, tugging you along behind, anxious to see Alexia. You had a key to her apartment but this surprise felt worth knocking and waiting for her to open the door, so you kept it tucked away in the side pocket of your backpack.

She answered, a hoodie pulled down over her forehead, hair that had escaped her bun poking out around her face. The initial frown she had at being awoken broke into a smile and then tears.

"Oh, honey." You stepped into her and wrapped your arms tight around her. She burrowed her head into your shoulder, making her hood fall off. Zazu jumped onto both of your legs, barking in excitement.

"I needed you. And here you are," she whispered.

You brushed her hair back and kissed her forehead. "Come on. I'll make you some breakfast."

She hugged you from behind while you made food for both of you. Her arms tightened when you started pulling plates out of the cabinet. All you could do was giggle. Hungover Alexia was always so cuddly. Sad Ale was clingy. This Alexia was a combination of both of them.

“Are you going to let me go so we can sit at the table or do you want to sit on the couch?”

“Couch,” she mumbled.

"Carry this for me," you said, handing her one of the plates. You picked up the empty plate and took her free hand in yours for the short walk to the couch. Zazu had made himself comfortable on one end. His tail wagged excitedly when you walked closer to him. Skirting the coffee table, you put your plate down and then took Alexia's to set down. Sitting, you pulled her down next to you, letting your thigh rest against hers. Picking up her plate, you handed it to her. "Here you go, babe," you said gently.

You ate in silence, enjoying each other's presence after all these weeks apart. After breakfast, you both took a lazy shower. You washed her hair for her and let your hands wander. She told you she was beginning to feel half human by the time you got dressed. She asked to go for a walk with Zazu and you gladly agreed. After sitting on the train all morning, you needed some fresh air and exercise.

As you walked down the street towards Alexia's favorite coffee shop, you looped your arm through hers. Barcelona at Christmastime was a magic and you felt like you were walking in a dream. Zazu tugged excitedly at the leash even though he didn’t know where you were going. Multiple times, Alexia had to tug the leash to bring him back to the correct direction.

You took your coffees to the park, so Zazu could run freely for a bit. You cuddled up next to Alexia on the bench. The wind had picked up and you hadn't worn enough layers. She took her hat off and pulled it down over your ears.

"Thank you." You'd also made the mistake of getting an iced coffee. But when he said their special was an iced cardamom lavender latte, you couldn't resist it. It was also so good that you couldn't stop drinking it, despite how cold you were.

"So, what time do you leave for home?" she asked suddenly.

"I have a flight this evening." You traced small patterns on her arm.

"Today?" she asked sadly. "That's so soon."

"I know. I know. My mom was very annoyed that I pushed it even that long."

"Well, I'm really glad you were able to make this pitstop." She kissed your cheek, letting her lips linger a second longer than she should have in public. "I hated the idea of being alone."

"I hated the idea of you being alone too. Which is why I booked two tickets from here to Copenhagen. If I have to go home, you're coming with me."

"What?" she asked, sitting back in shock.

"Come with me," you said, taking her hand in yours. "I want to show you my life in Copenhagen. I want to wake up with you on Christmas morning."

"You're adorable." Throwing her arms around, she pulled you close. "Merry Christmas, Y/N."

"Merry Christmas, Ale." Before putting your arms around her, you let your fingers dance over the little velvet box in your pocket. Christmas in Copenhagen wasn't the only surprise waiting for Alexia this year.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #ficlet #woso imagine #alexia putellas

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deblklesb · 2 years ago

Text

[Happy Christmas Eve! — Abby × Reader]

[fem!reader, christmas theme, fluff/soft with some sexual content (not enough to be a smut), established relationship]

Summary: Reader makes Abby a stocking and gives her a gift

a/n: don't mind me, I'm just making something to feed my soul with Abby fluff and fulfill Abby's wish of someone making her a stocking

cw: little sexual content by the end

! Reblogs are extremely appreciated !

"Can I open it now?" Abby asked from the living room, her voice reaching you through the apartment.

"No! Just one second!"

"Come on!" Her voice had a grumble tone, you almost could see her pouting. "That's not good girl behavior"

"You'd know", you snorted, finally finishing the adjustment on your garments. You hid the things behind your back, walking back in the living room patiently. "If you were Santa, where in this house you'd find good to see a stocking?"

"What?"

"We don't have a fireplace", standing in front of the blonde woman, you saw her frowning her eyebrows, absolutely lost on the subject. "You can open now"

Abby did it, and took her some seconds to absorb the view. You had a Christmas cap and a green big shirt covering your body until the middle of your thighs, underneath just a red lacey panties that she couldn't see yet. A grin on your lips denounced how you're up to no good, but she decided to focus on how cuddly that day was slowly becoming with you.

Christmas were always a weird holiday after her father's death. As much as the people on WFL away made get-togethers on that period too, it wasn't the same. She would usually hang out with her friends and sometimes even play with the dogs on the snow, but apart from that there wasn't some type of Christmas spirit.

You too didn't had the habit of celebrating that holiday, simply because it never seemed attractive. The world was chaotic and a bunch of people died, and during the most part of your childhood you and your parents spent too much time running and surviving. It wasn't exactly fun. Then you found the WFL quarter and decided to settle. That was somewhere four years ago, and after two Christmas you started to anticipate de holiday with excitement. On the third year you were already planning you own traditions. This year you had Abby, and as much as she didn't had the same anticipation she also didn't said otherwise.

So there you were all smiles, a bubble of happiness coming from the single thought of watching the movies and eating the Christmas food the cafeteria had that time of the year.

"This is cute", her grin got bigger as she pulled you from your legs to stand between hers, and then you finally revealed what was hidden. "What..."

Abby analyzed the two stockings in front of her now, red and white fabric, her initial letter in one and yours on the other, in yellow. Small stars, mistletoe and snow flakes around. "What is this?"

"Stockings!" She grabbed hers, fingers tracing the details while she sit in silence. The difference on her demeanor made you stand still, waiting. What if she didn't like it? "I... I didn't knew where to hang them, so I decided to wait to surprise you..." Still not a word from her. That sunk a weird feeling in your chest, the doubt of making something that could upset her creeping you mind. "Is there something wrong? I mean, I know the sewing isn't perfect, but my mom taught me me just last week in a rush, and I also had a run, so it can be a little bit hurried..."

Abby finally looked up at you and her blue eyes were watering a little. She sniffed briefly, looking away and then to you again. "Yeah, the sewing is pretty shitty to be honest"

You stopped deadpaned, watching as a small grin came on her beautiful lips and she pushed away the tears. Then she startled as you punched her arm. "You idiot!"

Abby laughed pulling you on her lap and hugging your waist, feeling your arms wrapping around her broad shoulders as she kissed your neck over and over.

"I thought you hated it"

"I love it, baby", the few honey-blonde hair strands falling around her face made her even prettier, cute freckles and small scars adorning her features too. "Thank you", she bumped her lips on yours, accepting your pecks.

"I have other present for you."

"I'm starting to feel really bad because i just got one thing for you", the woman countered.

"You got me something?!"

"Of course! What kind of girlfriend do you think I am?!"

"The type to sexually torture me in bed", you said, leaning over the arm of the couch to grab a package hidden behind the corner table. The shirt went up a little with your movement added to Abby's hold, and that made her see the tip of your lacey panties covering the upper thigh.

"Dressing up all cute for me I might as well do it again", she smirked while pulling the green fabric up to better see the piece of clothing underneath.

"I thought good girls were well rewarded", you pouted, giving her the package even tho that meant having her warm hands away from your skin. "Maybe this can help you decide what to do."

Abby looked at you all suspicious, tearing up the wrappings just to see a box with the product image in the front. That immediately made her blush, glancing your grin. "How did you find this?"

"That last minute run I went last week with Nora... We kinda found a sex shop some weeks ago and decided to keep it to ourselves to explore and get some things before reporting"

"You call that good girl behavior?", you caressed her shoulders while she opened the box, seeing the dildo and the small textured gadget next to it. "What's this?"

"You put it on the inside part of the strap", she gulped, imagining what would happen. You lean on her to whisper in her ear "It's for you to use while fucking me senseless"

The woman threw the box away before grabbing you by the waist again, crashing her lips on yours in a heated kiss. You smiled between it, heart fluttering as the thought of a destabilized Abby on top of you flooded your mind. She would look so fucking hot moaning and trembling while railing you; your pussy throbbed just with the anticipation.

"Wanna try it before the party tonight?" She muttered as kissing your neck, hands gripping your thighs and ass and getting another smile from you, her voice was so fucking sexy.

"Please be gentle, I don't wanna look like I just had sex when seeing my parents tonight", you both chuckled.

"So why did you dress this, uh?"

"Y'know... Christmas tradition?"

"Oh, yeah, right", she grabbed the box again and handed it to you, getting up from the couch carrying your weight like it was nothing as you wrapped your legs around her torso.

"Showing off like that it'll be hard not to beg you to fuck me untill I can't stand." Abby making use of her muscles were always an arousing thing and on top of that you were the biggest simp.

"Well, you discovered my trick", she smirked, walking towards the bedroom. "Now let's get this to a test drive and after the party you can show me how much a good girl you are."

[dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more]

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gabessquishytum · 1 year ago

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Hob is a tourist in a foreign land. He's having a great time walking through the markets - smiling at little old ladies and local urchins alike. It might be the first time he traveled far from home, but he is loving this little country.

So far his favorite part of the trip is the tour he took of the royal palace. It was fantastic. The palace was both a tourist museum and the active home of the royal family. Hob didn't even realize that he caught the eye of one of the crown princes (he was too busy gawking at all the decorative elements) while on the tour.

Dream happened to see this young man on the tour of the castle, he was gorgeous; OR alternatively, Hob accidentally wandered into the private section of the palace and bumped into Dream while he was trying to figure out how to get back to his tour.

However it happens, and with Dream being the weirdo that he is, Dream decides/knows that he has to have that man! He sends his main bodyguard, Cori, to find out more about him -- where he's staying, when he's leaving.

When Hob gets back to his hotel room after his next day of tourism fun, he finds his room mysteriously upgraded to the best one in the hotel and all kinds of delicious snacks available, seemingly at no cost, for him. It's super weird, but Hob's only in this area for a few more days of his vacation, then he's on to his next destination, so he doesn't worry too much about it. When Dream finds out Hob is leaving so soon he is distraught; so Cori takes "initiative" and kidnaps Hob for his prince.

Hob wakes, in a beautiful room, when attendants bustle in to bathe and dress him for dinner. Hob doesn't know where he is, and at least until he does, he can play nice, but it is very weird!

The six handed bath was nice, but are all the "proper" dress options supposed to be so sheer?!?

Oh dear! Poor Hob certainly gets himself into some situations, doesn’t he. I can't help but think that this one will be far from unpleasant, though!

He's dressed in soft, loose trousers that hang off his hips, and a shirt that's practically see-through. The staff made no effort to shave him, either his face or his body, but he's been rubbed all over with expensive oils. One of the servants even rubbed oil into Hob’s taint and helped his clenching arsehole to soften and relax! By the time Dream turns up, Hob is a little squirmy mess sitting at the dinner table with his hands covering the tent in the front of his pants.

Dream seems thoroughly pleased to see the lovely gift that's waiting for him! He doesn't seem morally concerned in the least, and Hob is ashamed to say that he's even more turned on by that. The fact that the prince just seems to think that he's entitled to Hob is extremely hot tbh.

And God, he's so captivating. He runs his fingers through Hob’s hair and strokes his skin through the beautiful soft clothing, and he talks about how he's become so obsessed with Hob after just one glimpse of him. Hob can't really believe it. Dream is so beautiful and charismatic, with his blue eyes fixed obsessively on Hob’s body. How could he possibly be so delightfully obsessed with Hob? He's just a guy! But Dream treats Hob like he's royalty. Hob completely forgets that he's technically been kidnapped, and he pretty much melts into Dream’s arms. When Dream has finished offering him dainty morsels of delicious food, Hob is glad to follow him off to the most luxurious bed he's even seen.

I don't think it takes much to persuade Hob to prolong his holiday just for a while longer. Doesn't matter that he's never experienced anything like it before - he's discovered that he's got quite a taste for nice things. And he might just be the prince's favourite bedwarmer at the moment, but Hob can tell that the Dream is looking for more. If he plays his cards right, he could end up marrying into the Royal family and living in the palace forever!!

For now in any case, he's happy to bend over Dream’s elaborate four-poster bed and show him what kind of fun the common people get up to 😏

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft

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equallyshaw · 11 months ago

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ᴅᴀʏ ꜰɪᴠᴇ: ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀꜰᴜʟ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ - ɴɪᴄᴏ ʜɪꜱᴄʜɪᴇʀ

part of holidays with equallyshaw

warnings: none! just not a great piece lol.

word count: 1.5k

ɴɪᴄᴏ ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇᴅ that he had been touch by angel, the first time he saw celine for the first time. and when he spoke to her, he believed in them. celine bernard, ever cunning (in a good way!) and sweet fell head over heels that night. hands were held, kisses on the cheeks were given and a promise to see one another - soon. her cheeks full of crimson and his whole being full of butterflies. a grin erupted on her face, when he walked her back to her apartment in new york, whispering promises to one another- what a wonderful world, she thought.

❅

that was 2 years ago now, at this point. a year went and came, and ended with an engagement- the couple head over absolute heels with one another. everybody in their respective friend groups and families knew the moment they met their partner, and saw how they interacted, they knew they were it for one another. and now 2 years in, they were to be wed. at the most unconventional time, but that's just who they were. the two were to be wed on friday, December 22nd at the courthouse, before spending the evening with their closest loved ones at a small boutique hotel in west village on the 24th of december.

after a win against the red wings, nico quickly whisked his partner away for a dinner in manhattan before heading over to the hotel in west village. "

"can you really believe were actually married?" she said hushed, as she leaned in towards nico. he smiled, taking ahold of her hand from across the table, "yeah, i can." the ever confidant nico gushed and she rolled her eyes softly. "ever the charmer love." she hummed, before taking a sip from the champagne fluke.

❅

the morning of, celine woke up just in time for a brunch with her bridesmaids, his mother and her mom. she had a spring in her step, the moment she stood up. she quickly made her way into the hallway heading upstairs to the insulated rooftop restaurant. she heard cheers, as soon as she stepped off the elevator and she quickly found her wedding party. "hi mutter." she said hugging her mother in law, and katja gave her a long and warm hug. she then turned towards her mom who pulled her in, making celine smile. "thankyou for being here, i appreciate each and every one of you." she smiled sitting down and raising a mimosa. the girls clinked their glasses together, feeling the heavy presence of champagne. making the new yorker grin.

❅

celine stood in front of her floor length mirror, smoothing down her silk white dress. her silver jimmy choo shoes clinking as she went to go grab her glass of water, and feeling startled when she heard a knock on her door. she sat it down, and hurried over. she opened it to nico looking absolutely smashing in his black tuxedo, he got customized just for this special occasion. it had her initials sewn into the border of the interior. he smiled widely, holding up the blush pink peonies in his hand. she smiled, opening up the door wider and letting him walk in. as soon as he shut it, nico took her hand to twirl her around a few times. "shcatzi." he hummed lowly, before pulling her in by the hips. he sighed heavily, while looking down at his wife. "hi ni. im almost ready, and then we can head down." she hummed trying to get out of his hold but he didn't budge. she giggled, "seriously two minutes and im good." she said but he still didn't move, "nico. im serious." she giggled, as pulled her in closer. "just one kiss. all i want." he grinned, and she rolled her eyes playfully whilst leaning up to give him a quick peck. "satisfied?" she questioned, quirking an eyebrow. "it'll do, for right now." he hummed letting her move away and finish making sure her makeup was complete.

❅

the two made their way into the small reception, immediately greeted with cheers and whistles. the two weaved themselves through tables up towards the center one that held their grooms and bridesmaids. she sat down after nico pulled out her chair for her, before draping an arm around her chair. he leaned in closely, "thankyou for making me the happiest man alive." and those chocolate swiss eyes poured into her soul, sending a good shiver up her spine. she smiled widely, "and thankyou for me making me the happiest woman alive." she hummed before closing the distance between them. it was cut short when the mc for the night waltzed up to the center of the dance floor - taking in all of the attention - and glimmering.

"welcome ladies and gents to the celebration of our favorite humans - celine and nico hischier!" jack began, waiting for the cheers to subside. "whom i promised not to embarrass them or at least not horribly..." he trailed off, causing celine to push her forehead into nico's shoulder. "i kid i kid, but im incredibly honored to have been chosen to speak with you all tonight and possibly steal their thunder." jack joked causing celine to chuckle, leaning into nico. "when i first met celine, i was dumbfounded. and yes, i know that's a big word i know." he said through chuckles, "but i was. i didn't understand how nico could have found what he had found in celine. she was an angel, absolutely the kindest person we'd have ever met. need soup when your sick? she's already coming over with homemade soup. need a pick me up? ready with her - well nicos credit card to grab a coffee or tea, to cheer us up. need a birthday gift? she's got the most thoughtful present at the ready." he paused, "need some real below the deck advice or wake up call? yeah... she's got you." he trailed off, causing the crowd to laugh as he looked back at the two. "then we've got nico..who with his ever charming swiss ways somehow charming miss celine." jack began, earing a playful glare from the captain. "i remember the night when the two of them met, nico called me as soon as he had dropped her off at her apartment. this man was speaking a mile a minute, and it was about 1 in the morning and so i just hung up on him. then an hour later, i get a call from tyler and he is screaming at me because nico ended up calling tyler-" and celine cut him off, "uncle tyler!" she yelled out causing the devils players to laugh. that was his nickname on the team, and tyler adored it.

"yes! uncle tyler, she is the one that came up with that beautiful nickname and now we tease him with it. but anywho! i got an earful that evening and then the next day when we went in. safe to say i never hang up on nico anymore, because ill have tyler to hear from but also ms. celine." he paused, laughing with the crowd. "but seriously, i couldn't have picked a better ending for the two of you, my closet confidants and best friends- congratulations again. so glad you arent as grumpy as you were before." he finished, causing celine to laugh loudly with the rest of the players. a running joke on the team before celine appeared, was that he was a grumpy captain or captain 'serious'.

celine turned towards nico smiling like a fool, "that was fun!" she beamed and he mimicked her, "that was fun." and she giggled. the couple then turned towards their best man and maid of honor and conversed as the food made its way out.

❅

celine sat there watching her friends and family converse with one another while basking in some quiet minutes before she'd inevitably get up to dance. she was sipping some champagne when nico gave her a quick kiss on her head, before sitting down next to her. "hi hun, you ok?" he questioned, his brown eyes flashing concern. she nodded, seeing that emotion fade. "just taking all of this in, not every day my whole family is all in one place." she hummed, setting down her champagne. "i got worried there for a second, when you didn't come see my aunt. thought you'd run off." he said leaning back a bit, and rubbing her upper back softly. she nodded, "sorry! my sister was trying to tell me something that's all. and then i saw that you had moved on so i sat down." she explained, "but i promise ill come find you if i need a breather." she hummed and he nodded.

"i still cant believe this is my life. " she said drinking more of the golden drink, "I've waited my entire life to experience the love i saw my parents show and have, and i found that with you. and i couldn't be more thankful this christmas." she said tilting her head just a bit, as he smiled. "im thankful every day the love that youve given and shown me, and im thankful for the person I've become since the minute i met you. i adore this life and you, celine hischier." and she smiled, "and i adore you, mr.hischier." she smiled before he placed a hand on her cheek, pulling her in for a big kiss.

oh, what a wonderful world the two have.

god this is horrible, but i needed to get it out. such bad writers block rn lmao

tags: @toasttt11 @dancerbailey3 @jayda12 @jackhues @cuttergauthier

#nico hischier #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier blurb #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #jack hughes #equallyshaw masterlist #holidays with equallyshaw

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littlebitsmile · 11 months ago

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in flames [C.L.] | Chapter I

Welcome back! Here's the first official chapter, situated inbetween the ending of the 2023 season and the beginning of the 2024 season. This played out in my head and be prepared, this whole story will be a SLOW burn. Even slower than Ferraris pit stops.

Dropping a new chapter next week, would be nice to see lots of you again!

But until then, enjoy your happy holidays!

[also, please don't forget to read the Prologue first]

story: in flames driver: Charles Leclerc [C.L.] trope: #haterstolovers summary: Always working three times as hard as everyone else, Emma does not intend to blow her chance of driving among the best of the best in her very first season in Formula 1. Concentrating on first and foremost getting ahead of her brother, she does not even notice that there are some people even in her own team who think she does not deserve this spot and would rather see her fail. And one driver in particular seems to have a need of always reminding her of that.

────ʚ C H A P T E R I ɞ────

As soon as the news broke, I have been swarmed by paparazzi. Hell, I could not even go to the toilet in peace without someone asking me about my deal with Aston Martin. But after finishing my last race in Formula 2, I could officially call myself part of a new team.

Sadly, I still have no clue why they approached me with an offer and why they went through with signing me. Initially, I thought it was a joke, some PR stunt to rile up Red Bull, since they made it pretty clear they wanted me and Max as the power duo - after a second and eventually third year of proofing myself in Formula 2. However, a ten-minute phone call turned into an unofficial hour-long meeting, which morphed into a Zoom session involving my manager and a team of lawyers. Three separate five-hour sessions later, where expectations on both sides were thoroughly discussed, I found myself facing a stack of papers with small "x" marks beside every line I needed to sign.

And here I am, wearing a green polo, black trousers, decent makeup, and a smile plastered across my face. Fernando Alonso, one of the biggest names in the sport, nods in my direction, giving me a last look of encouragement or approval—I'm not sure. We walk through the double-winged doors and are instantly met with flashes of light. The noise is overwhelming; I have to restrain myself from covering my ears and squatting on the ground with pleas of "stop." People shout not only my name but also Fernando's, alongside questions we surely are not allowed to answer at the moment.

Navigating through the chaos, we take our places on the couch atop the stage, in front of what must be hundreds of people. I feel like prey, reporters wielding notepads, iPads, and phones as their weapons to summon words that cut through us like knives.

As we sit down, I immediately reach for the glass of water standing next to me to soothe my dry throat. Nausea washes over me as I glance around the room.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the first pre-season interview of Aston Martin! We are delighted to have our two drivers, Fernando Alonso and Emma Verstappen, here for approximately one hour to answer all the questions you certainly have. But first, let’s address the elephant in the room, shall we?"

I was informed about this. We went over a few potential questions in countless meetings with my new PR manager. Nonetheless, I can't help but feel like this is a test I didn't prepare for at all.

"Emma, let’s start with you. This is your first year in Formula 1, and there is a big question on everyone's minds: Why Aston Martin? I mean, your brother – Max Verstappen, for everyone who has been living under a rock for the past couple of years -…" Laughter fills the room. I chuckle myself, but I would rather cry. "He has been with Red Bull since 2016. Everyone thought if there's a chance of you getting into Formula 1, it would be alongside your brother in a Red Bull car. What happened?"

I take a deep breath, swallow, pick up the microphone in my lap, and try not to look straight into the ceiling lights.

"Firstly, thank you all for being here. I do realize you’re here for Fernando and not for me—at least that’s what I’ve been trying to tell myself for the last week so I wouldn’t freak out." More laughter in the crowd. I relax a little. "And thank you for the question. I guess a lot of that was gut feeling. To be honest, I am really not sure why Aston Martin initially talked to me about my chances in Formula 1 since my last driver championship was in Formula 3 two years ago. I just finished second in Formula 2, and I've only been there for a year, so that was quite unusual. But when I talked to the guys and they introduced who was supposed to be my future race engineer and some people from the pit crew, I saw in them what I saw in myself: a purpose. They all spoke so passionately and ambitiously about the next season, and suddenly I felt like I found a place where I belonged. At least that's what my PR told me to say. Actually, I am here because green is my favorite color, and I have the biggest crush on Fernando."

The crowd goes crazy. Everyone claps and cheers. Someone screams, "We all do!" I glance at Fernando, and he smiles at me. Then he picks up his microphone: "We all hope you realize that was a joke. You could be my daughter, Emma. Also, Linda is still the love of my life."

"Damn, if there will ever be a chance of dating Fernando Alonso, Emma, you will have to line yourself up in the back. But, thank you for the close insight. We are pretty proud to have you wearing our colors." The host looks away from us and turns to the crowd. "So, let’s do what we and all of you are here for. Time for some questions."

A few hands instantly shoot into the air. My palms are sweating, and I look around nervously, praying that some people here have the decency not to focus too much on my transfer. But apparently, there is no god in the big blue hanging above us.

"Fernando, how do you feel with a rookie as a teammate? A female one?"

Tiny voices in my head agree with him, and probably many reporters in the room too. I shift uncomfortably on my seat. This press conference is not going in the direction we anticipated. Fernando seems to think about the question, but even though I have not known him for very long, I can feel how he tries to behave and stay calm.

"Age or gender have nothing to do with talent. Or capability, for that matter." His eyes revert to me. A smile. Then he continues: "We’re a team, and success comes from working together. I’m pretty sure an old man like me will learn a lot, but we always have to remember that this is a process. Growing as a team will not happen overnight."

Fernando's calmness washes over me and captures me. He has been doing all of this for so long—PR training, talking to reporters, reading about himself in newspapers and on tabloids. I feel pretty lost, like I am on an island with only a book about survival strategies, but it is not written in any language I can speak.

"What did you think about the statement Charles Leclerc made last week, about you being in this sport solely because of your brother? Or maybe, a bold follow-up question: Is your place in Formula 1 rather about connections than skill?"

I laugh, and the room immediately goes silent. "Sorry, what was your name?" I ask.

"Uhm…Kevin?"

"Well, Kevin, that’s a really good question, and I have to say there hasn’t been a single day where I haven’t asked myself the exact same thing." I pause and look around. Shock is plastered all over the reporters' faces, probably because they did not expect this kind of answer. "The thing is, my whole life I was second. Second being born, second to being seen, second to being supported. Second to start karting after Max had already a great start. The only time I did something Max didn’t do before me was when I joined a Formula 2 team—and that was only because he went straight from Formula 3 to Formula 1."

I remember the call I got when my place at DAMS was secured. I was excited beyond words, screamed, cried, laughed, all at the same time. I thought, finally, I have something to be proud of, something I achieved by myself. Something for myself. But when I went to tell my family, the only comment I got from Dad was: "Well, maybe you’re not as talented to just go straight to Formula 1. But it’s a nice chance, for a girl." Max does not know about that conversation, and I try to keep it that way. Otherwise, he would probably punch Dad in the face, a couple of times.

"Of course, it is hard to believe in yourself when there are so many people who doubt you, but that’s the beautiful thing about Aston Martin and the seat they offered me: They see something in me no one else sees, and they believe that I can contribute something to this team. These are guys who have been in motorsport way longer than I am, so I think it would be pretty fair to say I trust their judgment more than someone who tries to make a living of writing stories about strangers, I guess." A few people laugh, a few clap. I try not to be rude, but it is true. People are so quick to judge situations they are not in, and I am not here for that.

"Also, I cannot influence what any other driver on the grid has to say about me. As I said, I am here because some people see potential in me being a F1 driver and I will not let them regret this decision, so...I guess Charles, and any other driver for that matter, can have opinions about me all they want, but I am going to race these guys, whether they like it or not. This is a chance and I don't intend to blow it."

"Well, that’s a clear statement, and I’m right with you on that. Hopefully, pardon my French, you will kick some ass out there this season. The men need it, believe me." There is a wink in his tone. The room erupts in applause and camera flashes. I smile and nod, a small "thank you" gesture to the reporter.

"Thanks, Kevin. I will try my best not to disappoint you."

The press conference concludes about thirty minutes later; we say our quick goodbyes and leave to go back to the headquarters.

"What a day, huh?" Fernando remarks as we come to a halt in front of our cars. I sigh, shake my head, and gaze down at the ground.

"This was a lot more challenging than I thought. They're like... like..." I struggle to find the right word to capture the feeling. Fernando nudges me, a gesture of understanding.

“I know what you mean, but that’s their job. If they don’t bring out the worst in us, they would suck at it. But you handled it quite well, so don’t worry about it.” I glance at him. When I grow up, I want to be as calm as this man—like a huge cliff at sea, never giving in to whatever storm is coming.

“I haven’t seen what statement Charles made, did you?” I try not to sound too curious.

“Don’t dwell on it. I’m sure a lot of people will comment on you joining Aston Martin, some more, some less. But the most important thing is to clear your mind. We don’t need distractions – we only need some confidence. I can feel it; this will be our year.”

"If you say so."

And with that, Fernando waves one more time, gets into his car, and then drives off with a loud roar of the engine.

I look around, absorbing the peace and how silence envelops me.

Guess it’s time to start believing in myself and kick some ass.

────ʚ [Masterlist] [Prologue] [Chapter II] ɞ────

#f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #charles leclerc #haters to lovers #f1 imagine #slow burn

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flamerunn3r · 11 months ago

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Sorry this is unfinished but I need to post these now just bc idfk when i'm gonna actually finish the rest realistically. Idk it will happen eventually. For now heres the great p5u ramblings post detailing my thoughts designs

This is my own personal interpretations but is also somewhat speculative in nature. I'm mostly trying to deal in already established characterizations and epilogue set ups but there might be stuff I've missed or forgotten (i also haven't played dancing yet sorry if there's something in there I hadn't accounted for). This is kind of like if I took the creative reigns on the story where I'd continue for it. Only the investigation team for now (and 2 boss characters I have an idea for) but maybe I'll do the shadow ops at some point. Only 4 characters for now but I'll reblog with additions when I finish the rest or if I edit any of these

Yu Narukami

He's currently attending school as a journalism student in the city or just starting out as one. Enthusiastic about his field but still tries to find the time to keep up with his friends and visit Inaba on his holidays. I felt journalism made alot of sense for him with the themes of persona 4. I liked the sport jacket and turtleneck but wanted soemthing different so the scarf was chosen to keep the same kind of silhouette. I made the collar on the winter coat large and I feel like Narukami's large uniform collar is a key part of his design. and I wanted to call back to that in his casual outfit. The summer outfit I mostly kept close to his summer outfit from p4. I'm kind of unsure on it though I might come back to it. I mostly wanted to keep his outfits smart and simple. For his meta verse outfit I really wanted to go all out with the bancho (kingpin) stuff and other delinquent tropes. I lengthened the uniform coat a little because I wanted it to look like a tokko-fuku. Alot of smaller detail inspiration was taken from Izanagi. The lenses in the mask are supposed to mimic glasses. I'd imagine he'd take off the mask the same way he throws off his glasses in myriad truths.

Teddie

I can't imagine him leaving Inaba and the TV world behind. Still staying in town and working largely the same job. He's got his own place now albeit small (still a step up from the closet though). At some point the IT asked Mitsuru to pull some strings so he actually has a legal personhood now. The animal hoodie is something that came to me spontaneously but I knew I needed to include it. I really that his normal outfit in 4 keeps the white and red of the bear costume in the outfit so I tried to keep the colour scheme here too. Most of his later outfits are less flashy and more casual so I tried to continue that trend. I didn't want to lose the rose from the corsage completely so I included a rose pattern in the second shirt. Alot of his outfits feature light blue so I wanted that in at least one outfit. I considered making the hoodie light blue initially. I don't think he'd have a metaverse outfit he'd just use the bear costume.

Naoto Shirogane

I'm under the assumption Naoto is still presenting masculinely to the general public as of p5 but I may be mistaken in this. If I'm wrong I'd still probably largely keep the outfits similar to this. Naoto's still working as a detective and I don't think that's ever really going to change. One thing that a hypothetical p5u would have to address is what Naoto and the shadow ops would have been doing during the events of persona 5 and I unfortunately do not have any ideas for what that would be at the moment.

I feel alot of the appeal of Naoto's design is the kind of boy detective fashion. I went at this design with the intention of kind of refining that into something a little more adult while still keeping in a similar vein. I did have to ditch the pageboy hat unfortunately as I felt it made them look too young. These outfits were kind of design as pseudo work clothes which is why I tried to make them a bit more formal then the other characters. Something I consider notable about Naoto's design but deliberately avoided here was the rolled up pant legs. It's very obvious in 4 it's done because Naoto is short but I feel like Naoto would start getting that either custom made or tailored to fit. I was initially going to forgo the blazer on the summer outfit but the design felt empty without it. Naoto having a noir detective themed metaverse outfit is an idea I'd had for years but I tried to incorporate design elements that were princely. I alot of the inspiration was from Sam Spade specifically. Deliberately made similarities to Akechi's white crow design. The band around the hat is supposed to invoke the similar one on the old page boy hat.

Yukiko Amagi

Still working at her families in but is taking online courses during the off seasons. She's mostly happy where she is but is keeping her options open. Occasionally makes visits to other ryokans out of town for ideas for her families own inn, as well as an opportunity to for her to sight see.

The headband was included in her design in p4 as a like retro design thing but I find it too important of a marker of her design to remove it. I understand the why they went with the hairstyle they did for her golden epilogue but I feel it just ends up making her look way older then she is. I thought her having her hair up would be a nice change since she does it so rarely and settled on a ponytail. Tried changing the bangs but the ones she already had just felt right. I wanted her clothes to carry this kind of air of sophistication so I tried to keep them relatively simple and sleek. She's wearing pants in the winter outfit but I chose the longer coat to keep a similar skirt silhouette. The choker was largely inspired by the scarf she has in her winter outfit. Despite being a different colour the cardigan was also chosen to tie back somewhat to the sweater she wears with her school uniform.

In some side material it's mentioned that Yukiko has an interest in western fashion and aesthetics (part of what made the castle manifest the way it did) and I wanted to lean on that in some way for her metaverse design. I ended up going with a masquerade ball theme. I tried to keep the dress to something simple and easy to move in. The gloves and boots take inspiration from her persona in terms of design and size. I wanted to incorporate elements from her work kimono as well hence the ribbon around the torso and flower patterning. Probably the most unsure of this one of the metaverse designs so far. Especially the colours (considered making the reds pinks initially). Might revisit this one.

Ok that's all I have for now I'll probably do Rise's next 👍👍👍

#sorry these are of wildly varying quality i did them at completely disconnected times #i guess feel free to critique my ideas if you want but be nice pleaseeeeee #persona 4 #fine this can go in the main tags #also this took like 3 days to type up. i just proofread it but if theres something that makes no sense then oops my bad #ul

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foundtherightwords · 1 year ago

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Irresistibly Contagious

Pairing: Arthur Havisham (Dickensian) x OFC (Elsie from "The Road Forgotten")

Summary: Arthur discovers the joy of Christmas with some help from Elsie and two unexpected guests.

A/N: This was written for the JQ Holiday Ficathon. Since Dickensianis a Christmas show, I've wanted to write a Christmas fic for Arthur for a while, but as I was in the middle of my longer WIP, I thought I wouldn't be able to finish it in time, but I did! It's technically a sequel to "The Road Forgotten", though you can more or less read it as a standalone.

And of course, I had to have some references to Dickens in here. The title is a quote from "A Christmas Carol" ("There is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good humor.") The quote about family ("Not merely those with whom we share blood...") is a paraphrase from "Nicholas Nickleby".

Warnings: None! There are some very brief mentions of psychological trauma and infertility, but other than that, it's the fluffiest of fluff fics.

Word count: 7k

The village of Oakley lay at the foot of the Surrey Hills, a handful of cottages clustered together, overlooked by a church at one end and a manor house at the other, with a little thoroughfare called the High Street by its inhabitants with a touching, if slightly inflated, sense of pride. As it is usually the case with an English village, especially one of this size, everybody tends to know everybody's business. They take great satisfaction in it. When Mr. Babcock made his first visit to the doctor in twenty years, his illness was known around the village by lunchtime. When Mrs. Shackleton bought marmalade at the village shop, it meant her mother-in-law was visiting and she couldn't bring out her homemade preserves for fear of the old woman's reproach. When young Stanley Milford went to the West Indies for five years and came back with a native wife in tow, the story of exactly where and how he'd acquired her was quickly discovered and whispered over teapots and shop counters for days.

This is not to say that the people of Oakley are a censorious, meddlesome lot, far from it. They care for their neighbors. Thanks to them, Mr. Babcock's son was able to come back from Scotland and saw his father one last time before the old man passed away. Mr. Sidwell, the grocer, knew to keep a pot of marmalade on the side for Mrs. Shackleton whenever he saw her going to meet the stagecoach. And despite their initial wariness, they eventually made Mrs. Milford feel welcomed. No, the people of Oakley are good and kind. They simply think that lending one's neighbor a cup of sugar is an excellent opportunity to find out what they are having for pudding, that's all.

So when some people moved into the old Avery cottage on the edge of the village, they caused quite a ripple in the still pond of Oakley. The newcomers were a young couple, though they didn't have the bright, eager look of the newly married about to build a life together. They looked rather world-weary, like those who had been through a lot and only wanted to settle down to a quiet existence. That contradiction was enough to pique the village's curiosity.

The husband, a pale, boyish young man, was called Arthur. The villagers couldn't seem to find out what his christened name was. The wife, handsome rather than pretty, was Elizabeth, or Elsie, as her husband could be heard calling her. So they became known as the Arthurs. Supposedly they used to live in London and came to Surrey for Mr. Arthur's health. When the villagers heard of this, they nodded sagely, for Mr. Sidwell, whose son worked as a clerk in London, never missed an opportunity to regal his customers with tales of the horrors of the big city. Anyone who moved away from that den of vice and pollution was bound to have a lot of good senses.

But some uneasiness remained. Truth be told, the couple did nothing to disrupt the quiet life of the village. They kept to themselves, worked hard to turn the old dilapidated cottage into a cozy, homey place, and were affectionate with each other and cordial to their neighbors. Their biggest fault, however, was something the people of Oakley could not overlook: they did not celebrate Christmas.

For a small village, Oakley took Christmas very seriously. Every year, as December rolled around, the village positively dripped with evergreens, pine boughs and ivy vines and holly branches adorned every door and window, Mr. Sidwell's shelves burst with chocolate and oranges and other good food, people talked of little else but the Christmas feast that the Squire gave every year at the Assembly Hall, and children could be seen gawking at the toys on display in the window of the village shop or racing after the fattened geese as they marched through the village on their way to the Christmas Market in London.

Through it all, the old cottage at the edge of the village stood quiet and closed off. No wreaths decorated its front door, no cheerful carols came through the window, no enticing smell of roast goose or plum pudding rose from the chimney. The Arthurs, who went to church as regularly as the rest of the village, made no appearance at the Christmas service, bought no Christmas present or provision, and although the Squire extended to them an invitation to the feast on the very first Christmas since they arrived, every year they politely declined. There were always excuses. They had just moved in and couldn't prepare in time. Mr. Arthur wasn't feeling well enough. They were away visiting families (Mrs. Shackleton, whose house was closest to the old Avery place, went by to check that year, and indeed, they seemed to be away during the day but were certainly back in time for the feast that evening.)

Since the Arthurs seemed in every other way pleasant and humble, the villagers agreed that this was not a snub to the Squire or the village itself. The only reason they could think of was that the young couple, inexplicably, objected to the very idea of Christmas itself.

But the young couple didn't object to the idea of Christmas, or at least, only one of them did.

"I ran into Mrs. Shackleton at the shop today," Elsie told Arthur as they walked down the path that led from the woods behind their cottage to the back gate of Langton Asylum. This was a shortcut they had discovered shortly after moving to Oakley. It was a rather pretty walk in the spring and summer, through dells and glades filled with bluebells and other wildflowers, and shaved off nearly half a mile from the main road, for which Arthur was grateful. It had been nearly four years, but his bullet wound still troubled him sometimes.

And more importantly, the shortcut shielded them and their weekly visit to Elsie's sister, Marianne, from the prying eyes of the likes of Mrs. Shackleton. Arthur knew Elsie had worked hard to keep Marianne's existence a secret, not because she was ashamed in any way, but because she knew how the villagers would talk if they found out she had a sister in a lunatic asylum, and talk was something both Arthur and Elsie wished to avoid.

"What did she say?" Arthur groaned. He was more sensitive to gossip than Elsie, having been subjected to it most of his life, and had had to avoid even going out into the garden for the past few days for fear of being accosted by Mrs. Shackleton. He had a very good guess as to what that good lady had to say.

"Oh, she asked what I was going to wear to the Christmas feast." Elsie glanced at him questioningly, and Arthur braced himself for the inevitable. "I told her I haven't decided yet," Elsie continued. "Are we going?"

Arthur sighed. "Elsie, you know I don't want to."

"I know." Elsie tucked her arm through his. "Only this would be the fourth year in a row, and I do believe Mrs. Shackleton would come to our door to personally drag us to the feast if we decline again. We may need a plan of escape."

Arthur smiled but felt no amusement. When they first came to Oakley, he had been recovering from his injury, and with the roof leaking everywhere and the rest of the cottage barely fit to be inhabited, Elsie had gone along with his decision to not join the Christmas feast. But when he had declined again the year after that and showed no wish to celebrate Christmas at home either, Elsie had been at first surprised, then indignant, and then, when Arthur had refused to explain it, she had dropped the question, but it became a sore subject for them ever since.

From her gentle teasing, Arthur knew Elsie was trying to make light of the matter. He also knew he was being selfish, and unfair to her.

"You can go, if you wish," he told her.

"I'm not going alone. How would that look?" Elsie replied, aghast. She peered at him, her green eyes slightly hurt but still full of sympathy, trying to understand. "What is it, Arthur? Why don't you like Christmas?"

"I have nothing against Christmas," Arthur said with a scowl. "I simply think it's silly to spend money on a tree that you're going to throw away and overpriced gifts!"

"What about love, compassion, good cheers, and all that?"

"Those are just pretty words, made up to sell chocolate and sugar biscuits."

Elsie stopped in her tracks, her arm slipping out of his. "You sound like a bitter old man. What about family?"

"Family?!" Arthur exploded. "What family? Our parents are gone, your sister is in an asylum, and mine has locked herself away in a crumbling old house. What sort of family do you call that?"

As soon as those words were out of his mouth, he realized how horrible and hateful they were. He could only watch helplessly as Elsie reared back, looking like he'd just struck her across the face.

"Elsie, I—I'm sorry—" he said, reaching for her hand.

Elsie stood still, not moving away from him, but not responding to his touch either. "Aren't we a family?" she said with a quietness that hurt him a thousand times more than her rage. "Or am I not enough for you?"

Arthur silently cursed himself. How could he have been so stupid? When they had first become intimate, Elsie had told him of an accident during her years of working at a bawdyhouse, which had left her unable to bear a child. Although Arthur had reassured her again and again that it made no difference to him, he knew she still keenly felt the pain, the void. And here he was, reminding her of that void all over again.

"We are," he said, drawing her into an embrace. "And you are. More than enough." He kissed her to show her how much he meant it.

Elsie's stiff back slowly relaxed under his hands. Encouraged by her response, he took a deep breath and revealed the painful truth. "I know this doesn't excuse what I said, but the last Christmas I had with my sister—with Amelia—that was right after our father died. The beginning of the end. Compeyson had wormed his way into that party, tainting its memory. From then on, I could never celebrate Christmas without feeling like I was making a mockery out of everything."

Elsie's eyes softened. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Arthur shook his head miserably. "I didn't want you to think Compeyson still had any influence on our lives." Damn Compeyson. Damn him to Hell. Arthur could never utter that name without tasting bile in the back of his throat. It seemed they could never be rid of that fiend.

"But he's in prison," Elsie reminded him. She cradled his face between her palms, her touch both fierce and comforting. "If we avoid mentioning him, we will always have to live in fear of him. He is gone, Arthur. And we must continue with our lives."

Arthur nodded, wishing he had her conviction. They went on their way, Arthur slipping his arm around Elsie's waist to hold her close. From time to time, he caught her looking at him with a thoughtful expression, but she said nothing.

By the time they arrived at Langton and an orderly had brought Marianne out, Elsie seemed to have forgotten the fight, turning her focus on her sister. They gave Marianne a bag of oranges and some chocolate—though they didn't celebrate Christmas, they always brought little gifts for her. Marianne exclaimed over them with the delight of a child, which she was, still, mentally and emotionally. Elsie stood a little further back, watching, as was her habit—Marianne had improved a great deal over the years, but she was still in danger of a relapse if she was reminded of the past, and sadly, that included Elsie. The look on Elsie's face, half of love, half of fear, whenever she turned to her sister, put a twinge in Arthur's heart. A visit to Marianne was always bittersweet for Elsie, and he wanted to kick himself for piling on her pain with that pointless fight.

While they sat with Marianne outside—it was cold, but the snow was yet to arrive, and the garden gave them a reprise from the constant moans and screams of the asylum—Arthur saw, curiously, two children running around, a girl of about seven or eight and the boy of three or four. They didn't make a lot of noise, but their lively movements and quiet giggles struck an incongruous note amongst the sedate inmates of Langton. This was no workhouse, so where had these children come from? Were they with a visitor?

Arthur soon had his answer. A woman, dazed and frail-looking, was led into the garden by an orderly, and the children ran up to her—or rather, only the little boy ran to her, showing her all sorts of things he'd found, from a pretty pebble to a piece of string. Meanwhile, his older sister stood back, looking at the woman with the same exact expression that Elsie had whenever she looked at Marianne. It was painful to see such a grown-up look on a child's face. The woman didn't respond to the boy. She didn't even seem aware of either child.

Marianne gave the children some chocolate, which they took gratefully. The little boy clearly wanted more, and Marianne offered him the rest of the bag, but his older sister held his hand back. "That's enough, Simon," she said sternly. "Remember what Mama says. You mustn't be greedy. Save some for Marianne."

Elsie and Arthur smiled at her bossy tone, though Arthur felt an echo of guilt in his heart, faint but never faded, like an old scar. Those children reminded him of another girl and another little boy, running around Satis House a long, long time ago. He hadn't heard any news of Amelia in nearly two years, since their lawyer, Jaggers, informed them that Amelia had adopted a little girl, whom she named Estella. Arthur hoped that Estella could bring his sister, if not happiness, then at least some comfort.

Later, as they took their leave, little Simon ran up to Elsie and shyly presented her with a branch of holly, its red berries shining like rubies amongst the shiny green leaves.

"Why, thank you," Elsie said, sticking the holly to the brim of her bonnet. "Do I look ready for the Christmas pageant now?"

The boy only smiled at her. Arthur wondered if he could talk at all.

A voice called behind them, "Simon! Betsy! Stop bothering the visitors and go inside now, it's time for your tea." They turned around to find Mrs. Gordon, the matron, striding toward them. The children took off running.

"Is the asylum now taking on the children of patients as well, Mrs. Gordon?" Elsie asked, after they had exchanged greetings.

Mrs. Gordon shook her head with a sigh. "No, these are special circumstances." She dropped her voice. "Their father was killed in a mine collapse right after Simon was born. The shock was too much for their mother." She indicated the frail woman, who was still walking around the garden in short, jerky steps, leaning on the orderly's arms. "She can no longer take care of them. A benefactress has arranged for her to come here and the children to be put into an orphanage, but it is too close to Christmas, the orphanage cannot take them yet. I'm letting them stay with me in the meantime, but you both know that this is no place for children—"

As if to prove her words, a long, mournful wail sounded from somewhere in the depths of the building. A moment later, the children came running out again, their faces pale.

"Mrs. Gordon," said the girl, Betsy. "Daisy did it again. She called Simon her son and grabbed at him." Simon clung to the matron's skirt, his sleeve hiked up to reveal a reddened wrist.

Mrs. Gordon gave Elsie and Arthur a long-suffering look. "All right, dearies," she said, absently patting Simon's head. "You stay here and have tea with me."

"Which orphanage, do you know?" Arthur asked her in a low voice, so the children wouldn't hear.

"I don't know. I only know it's in London. It's been all arranged."

Arthur fell quiet. During his time in London, he'd seen enough of those orphanages and workhouses, like the one ran by the Bumbles, not far from where he used to live, to know what their conditions were like. He looked down and saw little Simon's brown eyes staring up at him. He tried to remember if he'd ever looked like that once, so trusting and full of hope. He must have.

"Arthur, can I have a word with you in private, please?" Elsie said, drawing him away.

Arthur knew what she had in mind even before she could open her mouth. He could see his own thoughts reflected on her face. "Elsie, no."

"I haven't said anything yet!"

"I know what you were going to say. We can't."

"It's only for Christmas!"

"Let Mrs. Gordon take care of them."

"She has her hands full with all the patients. And you see it yourself, it's not safe for them."

"We don't have the space."

"There's the spare room."

"They're children, not some stray dogs or cats we pick up from the street—"

"Exactly." Elsie looked straight at him. "They're children, Arthur. And they have no one. Just like us."

"We have each other."

"We found each other. And now they've found us."

She took his hand and laced her fingers through his. When she held his hand like that and looked at him with those green eyes, so bright and beseeching, he would've given her the world. He relented. "Well, if you can convince them—"

A quick smile lit up Elsie's face. "Mrs. Gordon," she said. "Would you trust the care of these children to us? They can stay with us during Christmas, and once the—once they are ready to leave, we shall deliver them back to you."

"Could you?" Mrs. Gordon said in relief. "That would be a great weight off my shoulders. We're always short-staffed around the holidays, I can't spare anyone to watch them too."

Elsie turned to the children and asked, "How would you like to stay with us for a few days? We live in a cottage not far from here."

Simon let go of Mrs. Gordon and tugged at Elsie's sleeve, pointing to her reticule, where she'd kept the chocolate. Elsie laughed. "No more chocolate for you, young sir," she said, "though you can have cake for tea if you want."

That seemed good enough for the boy, but his sister was more circumspect. Her eyes, of a darker brown than her brother's, regarded Arthur and Elsie with suspicion.

"You told us we can stay with Mama until after Christmas," she said to Mrs. Gordon, accusingly.

Mrs. Gordon cleared her throat, uncomfortable. Elsie crouched down until her face was level with the girl's. "You are Betsy, aren't you?" she said.

"My name is Elizabeth," the girl said, lifting her chin, "but Mama calls me Betsy."

"That's my name too, except I'm called Elsie. This is Arthur. And I believe you know my sister, Marianne." The girl nodded, still full of wariness. "Now, I promise you, Betsy, that you and your brother can come visit your mama any time you want. And if you don't like staying with us, we'll bring you back here to Mrs. Gordon right away. Do we have an agreement?"

She extended a hand. After a moment's hesitation, Betsy placed her own small hand in Elsie's, and they shook.

Soon, Arthur and Elsie were leading the children down the path back to Oakley, Arthur carrying the two small valises containing their things. Elise took Simon's hand, but Betsy stood at the start of the path with her arms crossed, refusing to move.

"Why are we going through the woods?" she asked.

"It's a shortcut," replied Elsie.

"A shortcut?" Doubt flitted across the girl's face. "I don't believe you. Is it some sort of trick?"

"It's not a trick, Betsy," Elsie said, her eyes twinkling. "We live in a cottage made out of gingerbread, and this is the only way to get to it."

Simon's jaw dropped. Betsy rolled her eyes with all the exasperation and contempt of a big sister, which Arthur instantly recognized from his childhood memories of Amelia. Elsie must have recognized it in herself as well, for she turned away to hide a grin.

"There is no such thing as a gingerbread cottage, Simon," Betsy said. "It's only a story."

Arthur was close to leaving the girl in the woods at this point, but Elsie's patience knew no bounds. She simply said, "Well, why don't you come along and find out then?" and went on her way.

Betsy scowled, but eventually, she followed them, running ahead to take Simon's other hand, not wanting Elsie to command his entire attention.

Back at the cottage, while Elsie busied herself making up the bed in the spare room, Arthur stirred up the fire in the kitchen and put the kettle on. He brought out the seed cake Elsie had baked the previous day, which went a long way toward lessening little Simon's disappointment that the cottage was not made out of gingerbread. The cake even managed to smooth out some of the furrow between Betsy's eyes as well.

"You don't have any Christmas decorations," the girl pointed out.

"Oh, we don't—" Arthur began, but he didn't have a chance to finish, for Elsie had appeared in the doorway and smoothly interjected.

"We don't have time to put them up yet," she said. "Do you want to help?"

The children's eyes both lit up eagerly.

"Then eat up and have a good night's sleep," Elsie continued, "and we'll start early tomorrow, shall we?"

As the children stuffed themselves on the cake and scones and preserves, Arthur went into the spare room on the pretext of helping Elsie. He grumbled, "I know what you're trying to do."

"I'm not trying anything," she said evenly, spreading a quilt on the little bed. "I only see some poor, lost children, and I'm doing my best to give them a happy Christmas. You don't have to be such a grouch about it."

Arthur didn't ask if she was including him as one of those poor, lost children as well.

***

The next morning, Arthur was awakened by Simon's excited scream—the snow had finally arrived, and the cottage and the garden were covered in a white blanket, as though a giant baker had passed by during the night and given everything a dusting of icing sugar. Arthur grudgingly admitted to himself that it was the perfect Christmas scene.

After breakfast, Elsie took her old coat off the peg by the kitchen door and turned to the children. "Which one of you would like to go with me and pick out a tree?"

Simon jumped up, waving his arm.

"And where are you going to find this tree?" Arthur asked.

"In the woods," said Elsie. She went out the back door and picked up the axe lying by their wood pile.

The thought of her trampling through the cold and the snow while he sat at home with his feet by the fire was more than Arthur could bear. He snatched the axe out of her hands. "You'll do no such thing. I'll go."

"But—your wound—in this cold—"

"I was shot through the collarbone, not my lungs. I'll be fine."

A small smile played around Elsie's lips as she watched Arthur shrug on his coat, while she buttoned little Simon into his jacket. She then wrapped a scarf around Arthur's neck and tucked the ends into his coat.

"Find us a pretty tree, won't you, my dear?" she said, giving him a peck on the lips.

"You'll find that my taste in Christmas trees is impeccable. And don't call me 'my dear'," Arthur said, trying to scowl and failing utterly. "You sounded like that old crook Fagin."

They set out into that world of white, Arthur slowing his stride to match Simon's short one. The boy said nothing. The silence between them was peaceful, not uncomfortable, broken only by the crunch of the snow under their feet and Simon's occasional tuneless but contented humming. Arthur was thankful for that, for he had no idea what to say to Simon. He didn't have Elsie's easy way with children, and there was no one he could have looked to as a model. His father had been both harsh and distant; Arthur's only memories of him were of his many reproaches and punishments.

They managed to find a little fir tree of just the right size in the woods behind the cottage. "What do you think?" Arthur asked. "Is that pretty enough for Elsie?"

Simon nodded, his eyes shining.

They dragged the tree back to the cottage and set it up by the fireplace in the parlor. Bare as it was, it already gave the room a Christmassy look. Elsie was in the kitchen, rolling out gingerbread dough and cutting it with a knife under Betsy's critical eye.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked, hanging up his and Simon's coats.

"Making gingerbread biscuits. We can hang them up on the trees, and eat them afterwards."

"What's that supposed to be?" He glanced at the shape Elsie was cutting.

"A bird," Elsie said, sounding peeved. "Isn't it obvious?"

"You don't say. I would think it's a mushroom."

Betsy hid her giggle behind her hand. Elsie glared at Arthur. "All right, so I might have skipped a drawing lesson or two in school. I'd like to see you try!"

Arthur was not artistic, but at least he'd had a few more drawing lessons than Elsie. While he cut the dough into birds, houses, stars, and men, Elsie taught the children to make garlands out of dried apple slices and stick cloves into fresh oranges to make pretty patterns. Soon, the gingerbread was in the oven, and the warm, spicy fragrance of ginger and cloves were added to the sweet smell of the fruits. Arthur shared the offcuts with the children, and when Elsie chided him for setting a bad example by eating raw dough, he only winked at them and popped another piece into his mouth.

Since that morning, Arthur had existed in a state of fearful anticipation. After Elsie had told him she was determined to have a Christmas celebration for the children whether he wanted to or not, he had been waiting for something to go wrong, for the old feeling of dread and guilt to come creeping back like a thief in the night. But it never came. It helped that Elsie kept him busy so he had no time to think about the past, and what they were doing was so different from what he was used to. He didn't remember much of his childhood Christmases, and after he came of age, Christmas had always been a day of gaming and whoring and drinking, until, inebriated, he would crawl back to Satis House in time to make an appearance at the Christmas ball and be reminded of what a disgrace he was to the Havisham name.

There was none of that in their little cottage. No scandalized whispers behind gloved hands, no cold looks of disapproval and disappointment, no harsh words of reprimand. There was only the soft swishing of Elsie's skirt as she moved from the table to the oven, the sound of her humming while she bent over a task, and the children's laughs. The sole note of discord was when Betsy told Simon he had put too many cloves into his orange and it looked like a hedgehog, and Simon stuck his tongue out at her, and even then, their argument felt tranquil, comforting in its triviality. The knot in Arthur's stomach slowly loosened, to be replaced by a little warmth. How much of that was due to Elsie's gingerbread and how much was due to her presence, he couldn't say.

After the gingerbread had finished baking and cooled, Elsie iced them with sugar, put a piece of red ribbon through each, and together, they hung the shapes on the tree—Arthur managing to sneak a few more bites—and wound the garland of dried apple slices around it. Arthur draped some ivy on the mantelpiece. Elsie placed the clove-studded oranges amongst the green leaves, and they all stepped back to admire the effect.

"Well, Betsy?" Elsie asked. "What do you think of our Christmas decorations?"

"'s nice," Betsy said, discerning as ever. "But the top of the tree is missing." She turned and ran into the spare room.

Arthur and Elsie exchanged puzzled looks, but they soon had their answer, for Betsy returned presently, bearing an angel with a wooden head and a skirt and wings made out of gold foil.

"How pretty!" Elsie cried. "Where did it come from?"

"Papa and I made it," Betsy said, cradling the angel in her hands like a precious treasure. "He painted the face and cut out her wings and I made her skirt. He said for Simon's first Christmas, he would let Simon put her on top of the tree, but..." She sniffed and wiped furiously at her nose. "He never got to. And we never had a tree again."

Elsie looked close to tears herself. She reached out a hesitant hand, and when Betsy didn't move away, gave the girl's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Oh, sweetheart..."

Betsy said nothing, just stood with her head bent over the angel, and kept sniffling.

"Well, we have a tree now," Arthur said, "and we can certainly have Simon put the angel on top of it, can't we?"

He held out a handkerchief to Betsy. She obediently blew her nose and gave him a tentative smile. Arthur couldn't help smiling back. "Where's Simon?" he asked.

"He's probably cleaning up the last of the gingerbread," Elsie said, stepping into the kitchen. "I'll bring him."

She returned a mere moment later, eyes wide. "I can't find him."

"He must be around here somewhere," said Arthur.

"I was just in the bedroom, he wasn't there," Betsy reminded them.

Elsie ran to their own bedroom and quickly came back, shaking her head. Arthur's stomach dropped. The cottage was tiny—only the parlor, the kitchen, and the two bedrooms. There was nowhere to hide. And if Simon had gone outside, surely they would've seen him, wouldn't they? Unless he'd used the backdoor...

"Simon!" he called. "Where are you?"

"If you're hiding, it's not funny!" Betsy chimed in.

Elsie wasted no time. She went through all the rooms, opened every cupboard, and looked under every piece of furniture. When this yielded no sign of the boy, she threw on a coat and went outside. Arthur and Betsy followed her.

The snow, which had stopped while Arthur and Simon had been in the woods, was coming back, a spinning, churning curtain of white. Usually, such a scene would compel Arthur to stop whatever he was doing and marvel at the beauty of nature, but now, all he could think was how this fresh snow had covered up any footsteps Simon might have left. They spread out around the garden, calling for the boy, their voices sounding thin and reedy, muffled by the snow.

"Simon!"

"You don't—you don't think he's gone into the woods, do you?" Elsie said to Arthur, her lips trembling slightly.

"No," Arthur replied with a conviction he did not feel, trying to reassure her. "It's dark and frightening. Why would he go there?" All the while, he kept thinking that everything had gone wrong again. There may be no Compeyson darkening their doorstep, but this could be worse, much worse.

"Simon!"

They were in the back garden now. The woods, which had looked so lovely and inviting that morning when they went in to cut the tree, now stretched out cold and forbidding in the gathering gloom. If Simon had indeed wandered in there, how could they ever hope to find the boy with the snow coming down thicker and faster every minute? Arthur peered into the snow-covered grove, trying in vain to spot something that didn't belong. He realized he didn't even know what Simon was wearing. Why hadn't he kept a closer eye on the boy? How long had he been gone? How long could a little boy like that survive in the woods? Some guardian he was...

"Simon!"

"We can't go into the woods by ourselves," Elsie said, trembling either from the cold or fear. "We have to alert the neighbors, rouse a search party—"

"Miss-toe," said a voice from above, interrupting her.

They all looked up. The old apple tree was spreading its limbs over their heads, and there, perched on one of the topmost branches, was Simon. He was reaching for a clump of mistletoe at the very end of the branch, a defiant spot of bright green on the gray bare tree, the pearl-like berries gleaming here and there amongst the leaves.

"Miss-toe," Simon said again.

"Oh my goodness!" Elsie cried, arms outstretched even though Simon was far out of her reach. "Simon, sweetheart, don't move! Arthur, get the ladder!"

The ladder was already there, leaning against the tree—it must have been how Simon had managed to get on the tree in the first place. Arthur quickly climbed up and grabbed Simon, holding the boy tight to his chest for a moment, breathing in the warm gingerbread smell from his hair, feeling weak with relief. Then, carefully tucking the boy against him, he made his way down the ladder again.

The moment Arthur and Simon were back on the ground, Betsy was upon Simon, shaking him. "You idiot!" she screamed. "Didn't you hear us shouting for you?"

Elsie came to Simon's rescue, sweeping both him and Betsy into her arms in a tight hug. "Hush, Betsy," she said. "Everything's all right now."

Betsy buried her face in Elsie's shoulder, her rage quieting down into relieved sobs. Arthur knelt down and found himself enveloped in the hug as well.

Simon, oblivious to all the alarm and fear he'd caused, leaned out of Elsie's arm to point at the mistletoe again. "Now kiss," he commanded.

Elsie laughed. "You're a slyboots, aren't you?" She obliged anyway, and then, because they were all under the mistletoe, Betsy and Arthur each got a kiss as well. They sat there for a while, holding each other. The snow, big, ponderous flakes that did not so much fall as swirl majestically through the air, kept landing on their head, brushing their cheeks and their eyelashes with icy kisses, but Arthur hardly felt the cold. The warmth inside him grew, slowly but steadily, like the first spark of a fire.

***

Arthur put his gifts under the tree, a book of poetry and a little brooch for Elsie. Other gifts were already there, a silk cravat he'd seen Elsie working on for some time, a little hair bow, and a box of wooden blocks carefully sanded smooth and painted with colorful letters, things she must have made the previous night, after they'd decided to have the children stay with them. That was Elsie all over, always thinking of others, always taking care of everyone.

Looking over their parlor, he could hardly recognize it from the little room he was used to. It had always been cozy, if a little cluttered, but now, with the Christmas tree, completed with its gleaming candles and the angel on top—Arthur had lifted Simon up so he could put it in place—by the side of the fireplace, providing a spot of light and glitter, and the branches of holly and ivy draped on the mantelpiece and wound around the windows, it looked... festive. Cheerful. They hadn't discussed attending the village Christmas feast yet, but Arthur felt he could face it now, and perhaps even enjoy it as well.

In the spare room, Elsie was putting Betsy and Simon to bed. Arthur came to stand at the doorway and watched while she plumped their pillows and tucked the quilt more closely around them, murmuring some gentleness. Simon, tired after a day of excitement and his adventure with the mistletoe, fell asleep right away, but Betsy was still awake. She said, in a small voice, "Elsie?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Are we going to see Mama tomorrow?"

"Of course. You and Simon have to give her your presents, don't you?" That evening, Elsie had helped Betsy bake a little cake, and Arthur had managed to cut down some of the mistletoe after all, so Simon could wrap a bunch of it in a red ribbon as his present.

"And—and—are we—"

"What is it, Betsy?"

It came out in a rush. "Are we to stay with Mrs. Gordon until she takes us to the orphanage? Or can we stay with you?"

Elsie hesitated. "You can stay with us as long as you like," eventually she said.

"They're going to separate us in the orphanage, you know," Betsy said, as Elsie was getting to her feet.

Elsie froze. "Where did you hear that?" she asked.

Betsy shrugged. "Everybody knows they keep boys and girls separate there," she said with an air of resignation that seemed much older than her eight years. "But how'd Simon get on without me? He doesn't talk much. They'll think he's strange. And what if he wets the bed? He still does." She added, with loyalty, "Only sometimes though."

Elsie turned around and met Arthur's eyes. On her face, he saw reflected the agony in his heart. Then she turned back to Betsy and tried to put on a cheerful voice. "Come, let's don't worry about that tonight, shall we?" she said. "Now go to sleep, or you won't get your gifts in the morning."

Only after she'd closed the door to the spare room that Elsie fell into Arthur's arms and allowed her tears to flow. He held her close, rocking her against his shoulder. "Don't cry," he said softly. "You're doing a wonderful thing for those children."

"But is it enough?"

Arthur thought of how Simon had looked at him when Mrs. Gordon mentioned the orphanage, and how the boy's eyes had shone when they found the tree, when he found the mistletoe. He thought of how the four of them had held on to each other in the snow. They had felt like a family. He hadn't felt that sense of belonging in a long time, had never felt it until he met Elsie. Perhaps this is what family is. Not merely those with whom we share blood, but those for whom we would give our blood as well. The warmth inside him grew into a flame, bright and glowing, and with it, a decision formed in his mind.

"We could do more," he told Elsie. "We could keep them here, with us. We could take care of them, and have them close to their mother."

Elsie lifted her tear-stained face to look at him, understanding dawning, mingled with disbelief and trepidation.

"Could we?" she said.

"I'm sure it can be arranged. I shall ask Jaggers. He's arranged for Amelia to adopt Estella."

"No, I didn't mean the legality of it. I mean—could we take care of them?"

"We have been taking care of them."

"It's been only one day, and Simon almost broke his neck."

"He didn't, did he?"

Elsie still seemed unconvinced. "But could we do this for years and years and years?"

Arthur looked into her eyes and entwined their fingers together, finding his strength from their touches, their connection, as always.

"We can," he said simply, but that was enough for her.

"If you'd promise not to eat any more raw biscuit dough," she said.

"If it's as good as your gingerbread?" Arthur said in mock consternation. "I can't possibly stay away!"

They both laughed then, and Arthur leaned in to give Elsie a kiss, a long, lingering one that was an apology, an expression of gratitude, and a promise, all wrapped up into one. There was no mistletoe above them—they'd decided to leave the rest of it on the apple tree, for next year—but Arthur didn't need the mistletoe as an excuse to kiss Elsie.

"Merry Christmas, Miss Bradford," he whispered.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Havisham," she said, kissing him back.

***

The next day, the villagers of Oakley got the shock of their lives when the Arthurs arrived in church just in time for Christmas service, bringing with them two little children, smiling shyly at their neighbors as they slipped into a pew. Gone was the weary, wary look on the young couple's faces, and as they looked at each other and at the children, whose hands they were holding, their eyes shone with such hope that the villagers felt this was a more eloquent picture of the Christmas spirit than all the decorations and gifts and feasts in the world.

Of course, Mrs. Shackleton took all the credit for herself, claiming she had finally convinced the couple down with her neighborly solicitude and persuasion. The rest of the villagers, on the other hand, simply chalked it up to a Christmas miracle.

THE END

#arthur havisham #dickensian #arthur havisham fic #arthur havisham x ofc #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn #12 days of joemas #holiday ficathon #its beginning to look a lot like quinnmas

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vampire-exgirlfriend · 2 years ago

Text

Lips Like Lightning (Skin So Sweet)

Pairing: Modern Aegon II Targaryen x reader (3rd person)

Rating: E

Warnings: booze and smut, you know the drill

This is a gift for my sweet @jadore-andor, who I was lucky enough to get in the HotD server Holiday Exchange! She loves a wet cat man and there are few more drunk, sarcastic, and pathetic than Aegon in the Paper Crowns AU

masterlist

"You really think you're hot shit, don't you?" She asked, a derisive little laugh trailing behind her words, not bothering to raise her voice over the noise of the band that played the stage.

"Oh, I know I'm hot shit, darling," he answered, pulling his pageboy hat off, shaking his chin length hair from his eyes and leaning against the bar. The lights from the stage caught in the white blonde strands, setting them off blue and red and green and purple. "I'm Aegon." He held his hand out.

She just looked at him, her eyes darting back to his face. "Good for you, Aegon." Her fingers wrapped around the glass in front of her and she threw back the rest of her drink, a slight grimace on her face at the burn of the alcohol. She didn't usually drink, but it seemed fitting in the face of "new year, new her".

"...Targaryen," he finished, his brows pulling together in confusion, his hand dropping limply as she made no moves to take it. He watched almost helplessly as she glanced down at her phone, the time - 10:32 pm - flashing.

When she looked back up her gaze traveled over his figure, taking in his hideous vintage sweater, tight torn jeans, and scuffed boots. He was handsome, pretty even, with his violet eyes and pouting mouth, but utterly unfamiliar to her. "That's quite the name. You say it as if I'm supposed to know who you are."

Aegon smiled, a slow, sensual unfurling of his lips, a flash of white teeth. "You aren't from around here, are you?"

"Oh, not even close." She smirked back at him, a little lost in his eyes, tangled up in the strobing lights that flashed over his face.

His answering laugh was good natured, if a little manic. There was something wicked about him that she liked, something libertine, something chaotic. "Then the name doesn't really mean shit. Can I buy you a drink anyway?"

—

She nearly tripped over her own feet, Aegon's tipsy weight jerking her back as he gripped her hips. He pressed her into the elevator wall, his lips dragging over hers until she opened for him, laughing against his mouth and clinging to his shoulders. When he pulled back she pressed a fingertip to the dimple in his chin.

"You never told me your name," he whispered loudly.

She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from laughing, giving him her name, her cheeks heating as he repeated it back.

"You are lovely." His eyes danced over her figure, his hands wandering beneath her coat.

"And you are drunk," she teased.

He kissed her again and again and once more for good measure. "I assure you, love, I am always drunk. But I'm not blind."

The bell dinged before she could respond, the doors sliding open into a long hallway. Aegon pushed her out ahead of him, his hands on her hips guiding her to the door at the end. She was surprised when it didn't open with a key. He pressed his thumb to a little pad by the knob, the lock sliding free after a few seconds. When she glanced up toward the ceiling, a camera stared back, the little red light blinking down at her.

Maybe his name was more important than she initially thought.

But Aegon was nudging her through the door, peeling her coat from her shoulders and throwing it over the console table that sat just inside the entry to the loft, flicking on a lamp. She liked what she saw, surprised by the comfortable, lived-in nature of the loft. Framed concert posters hung on the exposed brick walls and a huge, low midnight blue sectional took up a chunk of the room, the floor covered in a mishmash of Turkish rugs. His record collection was impressive, everything from The Clash to Annie Lennox to Fleetwood Mac. Books and photos lined the shelves of massive built-ins, most featuring him and a troupe of matching pale blondes, their silver hair and violet eyes painting them all as family. In one was a girl, wrapped in a baby blue tulle dress and a leather jacket, a caterpillar crawling over her extended finger as she grinned excitedly. Another featured a young man with long hair and a sullen face, glaring at the camera and holding a pool stick, his middle finger aimed at the photographer - his right eye covered by a black patch. In a third was Aegon with a woman his own age, her chin resting on his head, her straight white hair falling around both of their faces like a curtain. Her eyes were closed while he rolled his, a wide smile on her pretty face, a cigarette in her hand. Suddenly, she was hit with the feeling that the man she'd come home with was nothing like the man she'd met at the bar. It was uncomfortable, the realization that they were both real people with real lives and that this was just a moment, a blip in time, a miniscule light in the dark.

But any light was better than none.

Tomorrow she would leave, heading home to Volantis to start the new year back in her real life. And Aegon Targaryen, whoever he was, would go back to the people in the pictures.

Music filtered in from hidden speakers, and she recognized the intro to Take It On The Run by REO Speedwagon. When she turned, she found him watching her, his eyes narrowed slightly before pasting a grin over his mouth and holding his hands up. "Like what you see?"

"I've spent the night in worse places," she answered, her brow raised in challenge. Her heels clicked on the concrete floor as she made her way to the couch, dropping to sit on the edge of the cushion. Aegon strode to where she sat and she craned her neck to look up at him.

"I want you." He said it as plain as day, no teasing or testing or playing, another layer peeled back to reveal the man beneath. "Do you want me?"

She considered him for a moment, but the heat licking behind her ribs had her nodding in answer. She wanted him to kiss her again, she wanted to devour him, she wanted to sink her teeth into him and not let go.

"How do you want me?" His eyes looked so soft in the dim glow of the lamp, the lights from the city below painting him silver and gold.

She blinked, the butterflies in her belly blooming into something more dangerous, something with talons, something hungry. "On your knees."

He fell before her without another word, looking up at her from beneath his sooty lashes, his palms resting against his thighs. After a moment, he dipped his head sarcastically in a bow, spreading his arms wide. Time stretched between them, heavy and tense and full of dark promise, before he reached for her foot, quick fingers surprisingly gentle as they unclasped the strap around her ankle. She jolted in surprise as her shoe hit the floor, the sound jarring over the quiet music that played in the background.

"A bit jumpy," he teased, hands sliding up her calf torturously slow, his eyes on hers. He lifted her leg, lowering his head, his breath warm as it ghosted over her heated flesh. His mouth was soft against her ankle, his teeth scraping lightly over her skin. Her fingers curled in the soft material of the blanket beneath her, her breath coming quicker as he kissed the delicate skin at the bend of her knee. Aegon nipped and sucked a constellation of bruises against her inner thigh, his other hand snaking beneath the hem of her dress, fingers curling in the fabric of her underwear. His eyes darted to hers, a grin pulling at the corners of his full mouth. "I'm going to keep these if that's alright with you."

"All yours," she answered, fighting to keep her voice steady as he tugged the scrap of fabric down her legs, stuffing it in the pocket of his jeans with a smirk. He stood and extended a hand, pulling her to her feet when she accepted.

The walk to his bedroom was short, her eyes fixated on his messy silver curls as she followed him down the hall. It was easy to fall into his bed, to prop herself against the green satin pillows while he reached back, tugging his ugly sweater over his head, revealing a body that was absolutely unfair. Hard muscle lay over his stomach, a few tattoos scattered over his pale skin. Over his heart was a little blue butterfly, landing gracefully on the hilt of a knife, the blade itself seemingly piercing his chest. The words "fire and blood" were scrawled over his ribs in a small, flowing font. And when he turned his head, she noticed a little smudge behind his ear. Pushing to her hands and knees, she leaned closer and saw it was a tiny dragon, peeking out from his hair. "I like this one," she murmured, sitting up and pressing her lips to the ink.

"My brother and sister have a matching one. And my nei -," he cleared his throat," my best friend, she has one too."

She couldn't help but smile at the little piece of himself that he shared, the knowledge that he loved his family, that despite his ridiculous facade, he was capable of having a friend who cared about him enough to mark her body in commemoration of their bond. "I think it's lovely." She nipped at his jaw, catching his lips in a kiss that left her feeling drunk.

"Do I need a condom?" He asked, dispelling the dreamy vulnerability of the moment as if he were uncomfortable with it, jerking his chin toward the bedside table. Her eyes followed his and she waffled for a moment. His voice softened as he looked back at her, realizing his misstep. "I'm clean, if that's what you're worried about. Test results are next to the condoms."

One last reckless night before going back to the real world - that's what this had started as. And to be honest, she wanted to feel him, to burn the sensations into her memory. "I'm clean," she said. "And I have an IUD."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Without another word, Aegon's hands found the zipper at the back of her dress, wasting no time in pulling it down, his fingers grazing each new inch of exposed skin. He peeled the thin straps from her shoulders, his lips dragging over her collarbone, tugging at the fabric until she was bared to him. Her own hands roamed over his chest, his ribs, his back, memorizing the feel of his body beneath her palms.

The low light from the salt lamp on the dresser painted her body in pink and gold shadows and she found she liked the way Aegon looked at her, like she was magic. The buckle of his belt hit the floor and he kicked out of his jeans, sliding his ridiculous tie-dye boxers down his muscled thighs before stretching out over top of her. She rolled him to his back, straddling his hips and tanging her fingers with his, dragging them to lay over his head.

"I love a woman that takes charge." His grin was cheeky, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

"Then you're in for a good time," she answered, leaning forward and stealing his laugh, brushing her tongue against his. His hips bucked beneath her and she ground down against the hard ridge of him, his mouth parting in a low whine.

It was impossible not to lose herself in Aegon. He was all unhurried kisses and calloused fingertips wandering over soft flesh. He was warm, like fresh spring, like buds breaking through once frozen ground. The most delicious noises fell from his lips and he responded to every touch, every murmur, his pulse thrumming beneath her lips. His hand slipped between them, fingers spreading her, sliding through the slick that had gathered there. And then he was inside her, curling his fingers forward against that soft spot up high, grinning wickedly when she cried out, sharp and surprised. His thumb rubbed lazy circles over her clit, winding her up tighter and tighter until she lost her composure, grinding down against him for more, more, more, taking what she needed.

She came in a hot rush, her back arching, her thighs trembling on either side of Aegon's thighs, her nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders.

"Yeah, that's so fucking good," he said, his eyes revenant as he watched her come down, her eyes glassy and mouth parted. "You make the best sounds."

She dropped her weight, sliding over his length, grinning when he dropped his head back, the veins in his neck prominent. "Don't make it weird." Looking between them, she watched the way she parted around him, the blunt head of his cock nudging her clit. It was obscene. It was ridiculously hot.

His hands found her hips, fingers digging in almost painfully to hold her still. "It's not weird. Shut up and let me compliment you."

She wrapped her fingers around his length, thick enough that the tips only just touched, and guided him to her entrance. The stretch felt near impossible and she was sure she would split in half, rocking her hips gently to mold around him. Aegon shook with the effort to not plant his feet and drive up into her, to break her open and fuck her the way he so desperately wanted to.

Next time. He would make sure there was a next time.

When he was finally buried inside her, she held her breath, adjusting to the feel of him. He moaned when she rolled her hips, the sound somewhere between a growl and a groan, her pace a lazy grind. Sweat broke out on his brow, his grip on her waist tightening as she dragged her clit over his pubic bone; it straddled the line between too much and not enough. Without warning, Aegon pushed himself up, wrapping his arms around her, one hand tangling in her hair and dragging her mouth to his. There was nothing gentle about the way he kissed her now, urging her on as he thrust his hips beneath her. His other hand rose to cup her breast, his thumb trailing over her peaked nipple. Her head dropped back on her shoulders and Aegon leaned forward, scraping his teeth over the column of her throat. The pleasure was nearly blinding, the heat that had pooled low in her belly spreading outward to glow in her chest.

"Aegon," she moaned. "I'm so close."

"I can feel it," he bit out between clenched teeth, pressing his face to her chest. "You're so fucking tight, you're gonna make me come."

"Not til I say so." Her words were clipped as she chased her release. It bloomed like wildfire, sudden and raging and seemingly without end. Aegon grunted, shifting his hips and dropping her back against the blankets. His thrusts were hard, so deep it stole her breath as she clenched around him, still fluttering. One of his hands found hers, raising it lay above her head, fingers tangling.

"Let me come, baby," he murmured against her mouth. "Haven't I been good for you?"

"Hmm," she mused, her lips curling in a grin before a whine split them. The overstimulation was almost too much and she felt her pleasure ripple over her, heavier this time, pulling her down and she broke apart around him again. "God," she groaned. "You're good, you're so good, Aegon. Come for me."

His teeth sank into the soft flesh of her neck and his spine went rigid as he came, his hips stilling, burying himself as deeply as he could in her heat. She felt it as he made a mess of her. Aegon didn't raise his head, even after he was spent, and she felt him tremble, his breath shaky against her chest. Untangling their hands, she ran her fingers over his back in a soothing gesture until their breathing evened out, their heartbeats slowing. He nuzzled her cheek and she couldn't wipe the smile from her face if she tried. After a few long moments, she nudged him, rolling him off of her to sprawl over the sheets.

"Bathroom?" She asked.

He pointed toward a door on the left side of the room and she pushed from the bed, thighs clenched as she darted from the room.

She cleaned up quickly, almost afraid to look at her reflection. The mirror showed her what a mess she was, hair mussed, teeth marks scattered over her chest, lips red and kiss swollen. She washed her hands and swiped the smeared mascara from under her eyes before heading back to the bedroom. Reaching down to the floor, she scooped up his hideous sweater, pulling it over her own head and running her fingers through her hair to smooth out the snarls.

"It suits you," he teased and she scrunched her nose at him.

"That's not really a compliment," she said with a laugh. A dark bruise lay over his pulse point in the shape of her mouth and she smiled, happy to not be forgotten easily when she left in a few hours.

Fireworks exploded outside of the penthouse window, a kaleidoscope of colors bursting from the other side of the city, misting the room in gold and green and silver and red. She crawled back into bed and Aegon yanked her closer, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her to lie against his chest. "Happy New Year, you," he said softly, kissing her forehead.

"Happy New Year, you," she answered, brushing the hair away from his eyes before pulling him on top of her, kissing his smile and wrapping a leg around his waist.

#aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #house of the dragon fic #hotd #hotd fic #house of the dragon #my fic

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