#a lot more went into this than i initially expected to put in

[krysmcscience]

It’s finally done, guys – five whole pages of Narilamb AU comic AND MORE be upon you! (If you have trouble reading any of the text, view the full-size! These pages are huge!)

Yeesh, this took forever. <:)

There’s probably a ton of inconsistencies and anatomy/perspective wonkeries, but this was mostly just comic practice, so Oh Hekkin Well, Lol <:D

(Yes, I am aware the Gateway’s door isn’t present in the Afterlife, and the actual way in is just a pentagram portal. Yes, I put the door in there anyway because Artistic License, i.e. it felt more impactful for there to be a prison door of sorts to walk through to freedom, rather than just a bland boring portal on the ground. 😠)

anyway, i hate backgrounds so much lmao

Alternate ending and a buttload of bonus art under the cut, followed by goofy AU rambles and headcanon stuff:

I’m calling it the Revival AU. It’s not all that creative a title, and someone else has probably used it already, but I am too lazy to really care, LOL

Alternate ending page, which you will Definitely need to view the full-size for, Whoopsie Daisy:

The alternate ending was actually the first ending I finished things off with, because I had a brief badbrain moment where I forgot the emotional beat I initially wanted the comic to end on, and I tend to write comedy, anyway. I later remembered and drew out the proper ending, but I preserved and finished this one, too, because it still makes me giggle.

They had to go back for the followers off-screen in the AU’s real ending. And by ‘they’ I mean just the Lamb, because they weren’t about to ask three newly freed cats to go back into what used to be their prison. The Lamb DID spend some time watching Narinder and the bois enjoying the outdoors first, though:

In other news, here’s the Lamb and me making fun of my anatomy-drawing ‘skills’:

Meanwhile, if you’re wondering why the Lamb is just a-okay with how things went down vis a vis Their Murder, this bonus comic should answer at least some of your questions:

Ah, yes, also this is how they get engaged outside of the alternate ending. Forgot to mention that bit. XD (I already refuse to believe that Narinder is capable of flirting normally, so why would his initial marriage proposal be any better???)

Oh, and before any of them get a chance to actually head back to the cult grounds, there is one potential problem:

And by ‘problem’ I mean something Narinder intends to ignore for At Minimum a thousand years. Cuz he’s a petty bitch like that. :D

what do you mean i drew the lamb too tall compared to the background? clearly they’re standing on top of baal and aym lmao, why else would you think those two aren’t in this one??? (aym and baal got way too excited about finally being outside, you see, and their silly modes are nothing to sneeze at)

And, speaking of heading back to the cult grounds, I’m sure y’all would love to know how the Lamb’s followers felt about the brand new change in management:

It all went better than expected. <:D Tiny ramble now, feel free to skip down to the next comic.

Before you ask, no, the Lamb does not have any actual powers anymore, other than the immortality Narinder definitely grants them. The Red Crown just thinks it’s funny to suggest otherwise, and Narinder does nothing to discourage this. Also, the Lamb and Narinder aren’t actually married here yet, but, uh. Pretty safe to say that particular ritual directly follows the events of this comic. XD

Given how quickly he mellows out in canon, Narinder probably chills out a lot in this AU once he’s in charge of the cult, too, if only because 1.) He’s finally free, and 2.) He’s equally smitten with and distracted by the Lamb. He’s definitely in charge at least 95% of the time, though, because the Lamb never actually wanted to be a cult leader and, now that their time as a vessel is done, they just want to be a normal(ish) sheep who’s wholly devoted to their hot new divine husband.

Some followers do still have some valid concerns about these two being together, though, which I’m sure at least a few of you might share…

Unfortunately for any such concerns, the Lamb is a bonafide masochist in this AU. :D

They’re also 100% a sub, obviously

Anyone at all: Your relationship is problematic and potentially toxic

The Lamb: fuck yeah it is, it’s so hot~ OuO

Here’s just the last panel, made transparent for whatever nefarious purposes y’all might have for it:

Additional exchange Narinder and the Lamb have at some point, probably after the Lamb does a fatal whoopsie while out on a mission trip or in response to things getting a little too sadistic in the bedroom, ahaha:

Look, there is a very important distinction between life and death, and if you don’t understand that, then you’re probably not worthy of being the God of Death, anyway. (At least, according to Narinder, and ONLY Narinder.)

Last but not least, have these shittens:

~Such creative naming conventions I have utilized, lololol~ :D Anyway, there's a few deets on them in the rambles down below.

The rest is all ramble, so before I get to that, I’ll just say – likes and especially reblogs are very much appreciated!!! :D If you happen to really really REALLY like my stuff, meanwhile, I do have a link in my bio to my ko-fi page, where I’m accepting commissions and donations if you’re especially generous… ÓuÒ

Now, BE FREE IF YOU AIN’T DOWN FOR READING MY GOOFY RAMBLES

First ramble is re: Baal’s question of ‘Did it really work?’, since I didn’t feel like expanding on it in the comic proper, and it’s arguably pretty vague? He doesn’t ask because he doubts Narinder or his capabilities, exactly, but because neither Baal nor Aym have ever actually seen their god at full power before (he’s still technically not at full power here, either). It’s not expressly stated how soon the brothers were brought to Narinder after his imprisonment, but whether it was early on or after a length of time for Shamura to (somewhat) recover from his attack, he must have already been weakened, since I have no doubts that there was a huge battle that accompanied the Bishops working together to trap him. So, between that fight with all four of his siblings, sharing his power with a variety of vessels over time, and being chained immobile for a thousand years, he must have been severely weakened by the time he lent the Red Crown out to the Lamb, which would have only weakened him further.

I like to think this is how the Lamb is able to defeat him if they refuse to be sacrificed, despite how it took all four Bishops working together to subdue and chain Narinder in the first place.

All that aside, the three cats have been trapped in the Afterlife for so long that Baal also wanted verbal reassurance that they are all, indeed, actually able to leave it now – something that I headcanon isn’t possible without a significant amount of power (i.e. the Red Crown’s cooperation with its bearer/vessel).

(On a semi-related note, I don’t headcanon Aym and Baal as twins. I like sweetheart big bro Baal and snarky little goth bro Aym too much to have them be that close in age.)

Ah, teeny thing: If you noticed I switched up the art style for Narinder on the second page, that was intentional. It's sort of a visual indicator that there has been a Big Change for him - that being, how much power he has after sacrificing the Lamb. As for why I changed up his arms in the grass rollin' pic, I don't really subscribe to the notion that his arms are spooky bones because they're horrifically injured (beyond chain-chafing scars, that is), but rather just because he's the Bishop of Death, so he can change how normal-to-spooky they look at will. At some point I might doodle out how I imagine his appearance to range between least to most eldritch... 🤔

Next ramble, regarding Narinder’s feelings towards the Lamb...he was initially too focused on being freed from his imprisonment to form any real attachment to them. They were a tool for his use, first and foremost, but he did notice their intense devotion towards him. It was impossible not to notice, because the Lamb was always very happy to see him, even if it was because they died during a crusade (yet again). He wasn’t originally planning to revive them once he was freed, either, because he saw no real point to it – after all, they were already dead when they first met him, just as any other mortal would be when meeting him in the Afterlife, so death has very little real consequence in his eyes. But, once the chains were off, and it really sank in that he stood to lose the most devoted follower he’s ever had, he decided…why put their soul to rest for good or leave them stuck in the Afterlife when he could just as easily revive them again? And why not reward them for their hard work, anyway? Not only would it cost him nothing by comparison, but the future devotion that could come of it would surely make up for his (bare minimum) effort in reviving them.

He wasn’t expecting to get a full dose of that devotion and a smiling face so soon after killing them, though~ :3c (because the Lamb is a bonafide freak, and not-so-secretly into the fucked up power dynamics going on here, lol)

I should mention here that I am firmly of the belief that any non-god/vessel who crosses through the Gateway and into the Afterlife just straight up dies. So, Aym and Baal? Also straight up dead, from the second Shamura brought them through. Their souls were just never put to rest so that Narinder could have some company – if only according to Shamura. Narinder kept the two around mostly out of bewilderment, because honestly, who are these kittens, and what is Shamura’s game here, anyway??? They never even explained anything, they just tossed these kittens into the Afterlife and LEFT!!! At any rate, Aym and Baal being dead is how I explain why their souls apparently become lost in the void if they’re killed, along with the added complications required to revive the two because of it.

So, with those deets in mind, and given a bit of time, if Narinder hadn’t chosen to revive the Lamb, and also hadn’t chosen to put their soul to rest, they still would have woken up at some point, despite being as straight up dead as Aym and Baal. Who, don’t worry, were also properly revived while Narinder was waiting for the Lamb to wake up. Because I am also firmly of the belief that, first, the dead cannot leave the Afterlife without the use of a ritual/relic (and can't stay in the living world for long regardless), and second, dead followers’ devotion isn’t anywhere near as potent as that of the living, given how much more the living stand to lose.

Final ramble, regarding the Lamb’s feelings towards Narinder, and why they’re so devoted to him…

Well, you don’t spend most of your life on the run with your steadily-dwindling herd, trying to evade the ongoing genocide of your species, without becoming a little fucked up in the head. Maybe a lot fucked up in the head. Life is suffering, so might as well have fun with it, right? Maybe start finding death and pain to be kind of hilarious, even a little bit hot, once everyone you know and love is dead and gone, leaving you all alone? And maybe after that, there’s something comforting in how, despite the cold, cruel uncertainties of life, at least you can always count on the inevitability of death, patiently waiting for you until your very last breath? Who knows. Either way, as soon as the Lamb was killed, and they learned that the literal God of Death was offering them a second chance at life and vengeance via effective immortality, they were 100% ride-or-die-devoted all at once. Turns out death is kinder than life – go figure. (Of course, it helps that Narinder is 100% their type.)

They weren’t put off by Narinder’s thinly-veiled sadism or manipulations, either – they’re not too different in those regards, albeit opting for vastly different methods. It’s a very ‘two sides of the same coin’ sort of deal. In order to stay alive once they were made the last of their kind, the Lamb had no qualms with using others to their advantage, and that did not change once they were revived and expected to run a cult. They didn’t care for the position of authority, though – being a sheep and all, they’re much more of a follower than a leader, and thus greatly appreciated Narinder’s need for control. With how they had to keep on their toes for so long, the Lamb was also pretty good at reading people by the time they died, so they could recognize that a lot of Narinder’s posturing was just that – posturing. Dude’s 95% bluster and only 5% bite. He could obviously be vicious when he wanted or needed to (the Bishops' injuries were clear proof of that), but underneath his outer layer of cruelty was a generous layer of tsundere, and underneath all THAT was a soft squishy middle sibling velcro cat in desperate need of attention and affection.

(Which, for the record, he Did Not feel comfortable getting from Aym and Baal – Narinder still has no idea why the fuck Shamura sent them to him, beyond acting as keepers at best or trying to sabotage his attempts to escape at worst. Which, he thought HE sabotaged in turn, by guiding the kittens into being his devoted disciples instead. He thought he was very clever for it. ‘I outsmarted Shamura!’ he thought, despite that there was never anything there to outsmart. ‘What do you mean, Shamura sent your kittens to me for company?’ he demands of Forneus later. It may or may not lead him to pull Shamura out of Purgatory just so he can shake them and scream about how they should have Fucking Explained that!!!)

But, getting back on track as to why the Lamb was so willing to be sacrificed, I cannot stress this enough – if you pay even a minimal amount of attention to what he’s saying, Narinder is REALLY NOT SUBTLE about his intentions. ‘Death is of little consequence.’ ‘Followers are for you to use to your advantage.’ ‘Sacrifice a follower to absorb more power.’ So, yeah, the Lamb knew exactly what would be expected of them once the other Bishops were dead. They knew Narinder would expect them to die for him one last time. But, after all, death is of little consequence (not to mention hot), so when the time came, they wanted to see him freed, even if it meant oblivion for them in the end.

He’d given them a second life, and the ability to avenge their kin, and they felt indebted to him for that – so, while they were still pretty glum about the possibility that they might not get to see him free of his chains, nothing beyond their devotion and debt to him mattered. They never wanted all the drama and expectations that came with the Red Crown’s power, anyway, so, better for Narinder to have it back so that he could deal with it. What he did with the Lamb afterward would be up to him, and seeing as he was their god, they’d accept his decision gladly.

Were they in love with him by that point? Oh, obsessively so, but only in the devotional sense – romance was nowhere on their mind nor radar. That is, until he unexpectedly revived them again, told them he still needed them, and then offered down his hand to help them up.

The Lamb fell HARD for him in that moment. :3c

And now, a tiny shitten ramble. Lu and Li are twins, because sheep tend to have those a lot, and are conceived not long after the Lamb and Narinder’s marriage ceremony. Lu is the minutes older one, but Li is much more mature. I have put no further thought into these two, other than that they are utter menaces, birthed by the Lamb, cling hard to both their parents but especially Narinder (who spoils them rotten), and they are both genderfluid, using whichever pronouns/names they feel like at any given time. They are also both intersex, same as the Lamb, who was initially infertile up until Something Something Vague Magic, which I have also put no further thought into ¯\_(シ)_/¯

oh, and before anyone tries to suggest i headcanon this AU’s lamb as trending more female due to them giving birth or whatever, no, no, a thousand times no, they might have a vag, but they've also got a dick, and even if it's not as big as they'd like, they still know how to use it

Finally, the very tentative name for the Lamb in this AU is Yazdi, which is really just another name for the Baluchi breed of sheep XD (Not that the Lamb is this specific breed, I just didn’t like any of the other sheep-related names I found, ahaha...)

THAT’S ALL FOR NOW (collapses into an exhausted pile of goopy limbs)

[bunnys-kisses]

the music sounds better with you

max verstappen - team principal au

cw: smut/pwp, team principal!max, driver!reader, power dynamic, age gap (20s/40s), jealous!max, drunk!reader, drinking & recreational drug use, stern!max, spanking/punishments, dirty talk & degradation

a/n: the hotline is open for requests in this universe, i'd love to hear your thoughts & feelings <3

the thump of the club had you a little dizzy. it was hard to get around on heels. you were used to the sneakers you wore around the track. you never never a "girls-girl" in the sense that you dressed in restrictive clothing. but, since you were out at the club with a few of the other drivers, you had to put a little more effort into your appearance.

you and your teammate managed to sneak in the new driver from ferrari. he was the son of charles leclerc and turning eighteen in two months. your teammate nudged you to show off a little more of your skin to get the new driver in. as you pouted at the bouncer you said, "c'mon, sir. let us in." and who was about to say no to the number one driver in the world.

it wasn't long before your night was filled with recreational substance abuse. you kept feeling the young leclerc drinks and laughing when the younger boy sputtered from the intense taste of hard liquor. even when your teammate went home, you were still drinking with the rookie.

and without thinking, you texted your boss, max verstappen.

you explained, "don't worry, he's really cool. like really, really cool. you know he let me drive his boat a little!".

the boy looked at you and nodded dumbly, 'that's crazy, what the fuck." then rested his head back against the bar counter. you sent a text to max and gave your location.

"please come pick me up sir! i'm really drunk!!!! i need you to come here like now!! take me home pleaseeeeeee <33333"

max was home alone when he got the message, he was watching a movie after dinner. you sent a few more messages with horrible spelling errors, and max knew that he couldn't leave you to your devices to find an uber. so he was quickly dressed and out the door.

he soon pulled up to the club, he quickly got out of the car to wait for you. you sounded painfully drunk in your initial text and the ones that followed after. as he rested against the car he looked over to see if he could find you. instead he saw an unlikely face.

"charles?"

the other man turned to look at him and broke into a grin, "max, how are you, mate?" he went over to hug the other man, "what are you doing here?"

"here to pick up my driver."

"the girl?"

"yeah."

charles nodded, "the one who got my son drunk." he gave max a look when the other man's expression fell.

"she did what?" max felt something in his chest. while your teammate he had little reason to care for what he did (he was a one year contract), he had higher expectations for you. and to find out that you got the new driver of formula one, who was underage, drunk. it didn't sit well with the older man.

charles leaned up against max's car, "i get a text message from him that he's at a bar that your driver snuck him into... and now he's sick."

max made a face, "i'll speak to her about that." then gave his best smile to his long time rival and friend.

charles made a snide remark, "well if the press is right, you'll be doing a lot more than just talking to her." he looked forward towards the bar, "just be careful, max."

max nodded. he sensed no judgement from charles and rolled his shoulders, "always am, mate." then saw you stumble out of the bar. you had charle's son's arm draped over your shoulders.

you were both painfully drunk, while you kept the young man steady you also had to keep yourself steady. "alright, alright. we're almost there." you looked out and saw max standing there. you made a slight face, "hey, mister verstappen! and... friend!" from the distance you couldn't tell who it was.

charles laughed, "does she call you that in bed too."

max felt his ears burn, "shut up." then pulled away from the car to go help you. charles did the same. the team principal got a hold of you while charles did his son. max held you steady to make you look at the other pair, "what do you say to charles?" max's arm was around you and your hand was in his t-shirt, swaying a little.

you pouted a little, there was a slight sway to your stance, "i'm sorry, mister leclerc... sorry for getting your son plastered." you look like you were going to cry. charles understood why max kept you around. a wobbly bottom lip and doe eyes can go a long way.

charles smiled, "well, if he throws up in the car. i'll just send the cleaning bill to your lovely boss." max made another face and watched his friend leave with his son in tow.

the older dutchman got a hold of you better and got you into the car. he got a good look at your panties when the skirt of your dress lifted. he buckled you in and roughly patted your cheek. he said, "you've been a bad girl."

you whined when he closed the door like an unruly little girl. max knew he a stern talking to wasn't going to do much. so when he got into the driver's seat and started the car. he put it into drive and placed a hand on your thigh.

"i have no words."

"oh like you've never gotten anyone drunk." you tried to defend yourself.

max's grip on your thigh tightened, "well, i didn't get the son of a famous driver drunk when he was underage. then have to go crying to my team principal because i had one too many drinks."

you pouted, "who else was i going to call? it's not like i have a boyfriend! you won't let me date." you crossed your arms.

"you'll lose focus. plus, there's no man in monaco worthy of you." in reality max wanted you all to himself. he was selfish that way, he let too many women throughout the years get lost because of his drive to race. so why not find a woman who was in racing so max could have his cake and eat it too. it also didn't help that max was pulled to you.

his little protege. drunk in his car while he held onto you tightly. you weren't getting away that easily. back at his apartment, he helped you inside and you so easily held onto him.

"i'm sorry, mister verstappen." you said as you gripped the front of his t-shirt. you could feel the muscle under your fingers. your cheek pressed against him while he held you.

"a little too late to say sorry. what if someone got the wrong idea. city's full of bad men who would do horrible things to you. they'd hurt you. and i don't want you to get hurt." he said with a sense of tenderness, "so i need to teach you how to be good for me. you want to be number one, right?"

you nodded, "i do."

he took you out of the elevator and into his home. you kicked off your heels, only to put them nicely by the door when max gave you a look. you weren't going to make a mess of his home. he soon got a hold of you and lifted you. you kicked out your legs. you weren't the skinniest or smallest thing on the track, but max grabbed you with ease and got you over the arm of the couch, you kicked out your legs as he started to undress you.

"mister verstappen!" you cried out.

"good girls get to luxury of clothes. you seem to have forgotten that." he said, his voice almost cold as his large hands palmed your exposed ass cheeks. he groped them in the hopes of bruising them.

"i'm sorry."

"sorry is not going to cut it, my little driver."

you pouted with your face pressed against the leather, it felt cool for a brief moment under your skin, but soon warmed because of the heat in your body. "you don't do this to him."

your teammate. the snobby brit who always tried to get the upper hand with you, to steal max's attention away from you. you yelped when you felt max's hand across your ass in a hard smack that echoed through the living room.

"why would i? he behaves. he listens both on the radio and out in public. he doesn't need to be trained like you." your teammate came from a family that could flash a little money max's way to get him onto the team.

max didn't care, the british driver wasn't who max wanted to make into the perfect driver. he was a seat filler. you on the other hand clawed our way from your small town in the middle of nowhere to become the best. so max felt inclined to make that dream of yours a reality. your teammate would be gone by the end of the season while you'll have the championship with pride.

max laid down the law with you. smacks across your round ass left you whining and wet. he could see the hint of your wetness smeared across your pussy lips from the angle he had you at. you were always a glutton for punishment. someone didn't have a good relationship with their daddy. you yelped once more while your short nails dug into the fabric of the couch.

"you need to be good. you know there are cameras everywhere." he said before he smacked your ass once more. he could feel himself strained in his jeans. he was certain someone took some kind of video of you at the club, "if you want to act like a whore on camera, then i can easily make a tape with you." he leaned over you as he grabbed at the heated, bruised skin, "would you like that? having my camera in your face while i make you finish over and over again."

he heard your moaned and he chuckled. he shook his head before he was upright with his clothed cock against your bare cunt, "you'd love that, dirty girl. imagine if that got leaked? imagine if the whole world saw how you take me. they'd think i was a monster for taking advantage of such a sweet thing. little do they know." he started to undo his belt and grabbed you by the arms. it forced your face first onto the couch as he bound your wrists behind your back, "that you're just a little whore. begging for your team principal's cock."

"m..max." you whimpered. it felt weird saying his name. you were painfully drunk. both off of too many cranberry/vodka's and lust. max knew how to get in your head. that's why you two made a good team, he could reinforce you when you were hesitant on the track. but, he could also use it to his sick sexual advantage.

you were bound over the couch, your hips in the air. perfect for max to get his cock out of his expensive calvin klein jeans and rubbed up against your slick, hot pussy. he watched you squirm a little and it made him run warm. always so responsive.

he sank his cock into you without much introduction. he watched your squirm from the stretch. by now, with how many times max had fucked you, you should've been able to take him easier. he chalked it up to you needing more training in that department. maybe at the next event for the team, he'd keep you nice and full of a toy so at the end of the night you wouldn't be causing a scene with how much he stretched your poor pussy out.

he held onto the belt that was secured around your wrist and fucked you without much softness. he needed to get into your drunk little head that you needed to behave. you had to be good for him. for the team. he can't have a source of controversy on his team, as much as he loved fucking you.

it would be a real shame to have to cut your contract short and you probably won't find another seat on the grid (max would make sure of that), but max wouldn't send you back to your little town. you'd just be in a different role. someone a little more exclusive. mrs. max verstappen. the little lick of pleasure in the back of his head. the fantasy that coursed through his head while he was deep inside of you.

"please, sir." you arched your back a little further and whined into the covers. you felt the heat of pleasure i the back of your head. you wanted to claw into the couch, but he kept your wrists pinned. even with the stretch of the muscles, you were forced to be bound. you felt the heat pool in your gut the more he fucked you.

he thrusts were dominating, there was little way for you to gain the upper hand. even if your squirmed or cried, big fat tears down your face, it wouldn't make a difference. this was punishment. max set guidelines for what he expected from a protege, and if you didn't follow them. then, well, there was consequences. he knew you were young and a little dumb, but you weren't the stupidest thing on the grid. you had promise and max wanted to expose that to the world.

but you'd only expose your cunt to him. your contract and the metaphorical leash to your collar were in his hands. was he not the best? you could see some of the trophies in the room where he was fucking you. your bruised ass bounced against his hips. he was a rich champion, he had a legacy that blew most out the water.

he was your boss and mentor, and you had the audacity to not listen to him. thankfully max wasn't one to give up. he could never give up on you. maybe it was love, or max's idea of love. a bound little driver getting her poor cervix bruised as punishment for getting so drunk.

he leaned over you, the angle got deeper and you gasped, he kissed your sweaty temple, "see, this is how you should be."

"i thought i had to be mean on the track."

he kissed you once more, feeling your heated skin under his lips, "of course, my little driver. my treasure. you run them off the fucking track if you have to. but when you're with me, i like when you're gentle. a beautiful little thing under me." his pace picked up and it made you go dizzy for a moment.

"a good girl?"

"exactly." see you're already becoming behaved." he knew that your wrists were being rubbed raw to the point of bruising because of the belt around them. you looked so pretty in a state of bondage.

bound and submissive to him. this was what he yearned for. what he craved for at the sight of you. you were beyond beautiful, even when you drove his nerves up the wall. he pushed you further against the couch and fucked you with an intensity that left you loud.

while he couldn't indulge in his appreciation for your noises very often, when he could. he wanted to hear his little driver get loud. his heart raced as he felt close to his climax. you felt the same way, you tried to meet his pace, but it was bruising to the point where you felt nothing in between your ears.

your poor little brain had enough and left the building. rationality was a thing a few hours ago, but now you were panting like a hungry puppy against the hot leather of the couch. your tongue could taste the leather of the seat.

back arched, pussy ruined. you really did look like the model driver. you whimpered a little louder, unable to form many words. you could feel the race in your gut and the twist in the area.

"perfect." he said, one way to train you was to fuck you into a soft submission. to finish inside of you so many times that you couldn't think straight.

he continued to fuck you, losing the pace rather quickly as the need to climax started to overtake. you felt the heat in your gut bloom into your brain as you struggled against the binds. but your beloved boss kept you down onto the couch and continued to fuck you feverishly.

you were near brain dead by the time you felt the hold of orgasm clutch you. you moaned loudly and tensed up. you climaxed around his cock and arched your back a little more. your noises were pathetic, but music to max's ears. he pressed into your further, his hands on your hips for the best leverage.

the poor little drunk driver fucked to heaven and back by her intimidating boss. it was hot, max thought it would make a good porno plot (he knew it existed, he checked. the woman they got to play you couldn't hold a candle to your beauty). he shoved every last inch of his cock into you with a heavy groan. he came inside of you and felt the heat in his brain.

he stayed there for a moment, cock buried into you. not really caring that he just finished inside of you, completely bare. you made a few more noises before max pulled away and got his cock back into his jeans. your wetness stained the front of the denim.

he undid you wrists and got you upright. you whimpered and leaned against him. he kept a protective hold on you, "alright, my love." he said, "let's get you into bed before you cause any more trouble."

when he finally got you into bed, you remained naked. the alcohol and pleasure made you run hot. and max took it upon himself to snap a few pictures of your bruised behind and soft, sleepy expression. that would be saved for when he can't get his hands on you.

-

you woke up in the morning with a headache and a dry mouth. the sun that gleamed in through the blinds made everything hurt more. when you lifted your head, you noticed that max wasn't in bed with you. you were wrapped up in the sheets and whined loudly.

you heard footsteps and were soon greeted by your boss in the doorway. his arms crossed. you squinted at him and said, "everything hurts."

max replied, "you act like you've never been hungover before." he sat on the edge of the bed and pinched your cheek till you whined, "i hope you know that your punishment isn't over. we have all day to put you back on the right path. you're a driver, have some respect for yourself." you whined again.

"you're a meanie, mister verstappen."

"i know, but i told you i'd make you a superstar. and that means behaving. i'll make you some breakfast, but today you'll be learning how to behave. i'll even be nice and let you kneel on a pillow while we go over your recent driving blunders."

you squirmed a little in bed. you hated when he did that. made you sit there and watch your races, but it was only fair. mister verstappen promised you the wdc, and you weren't going to get that by getting black out drunk, were you? max verstappen, head of verstappen racing, may be mean to you. but you'd be his champion in no time at all. <3

[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (07) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 15.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: One of my fave chapters! I hope you like this one! And just a heads up that intervals between posting days will be longer as the chapters get longer, too. And bc u know, life... HAHA but again, thank you so much for all the love for this like??? HOW. PLS you've all been so nice so thank you! 🥰 Also… JK in that SNTY suit.

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

Mr. Ri loads the luggages in the trunk and you double check that all bags - which you helped pack yesterday - are complete. You enter the car right after and head to the airport where Jungkook will fly to Singapore for a few meetings and to attend Seokjin’s alcohol launch party. 

It’s been over a month since the Arts Center event and so much has happened since then. Jungkook went to Jeju to meet an artist and then to Japan over a weekend to meet another two. He’s been on calls with a few more with plans to meet in their country of residence in the next months, and he’s gone around different local towns to meet with craftspeople for souvenirs and future exhibitions. He’s also touched base with various national and international Korean arts and culture organizations for promotion and joint projects. The event opened doors for a new network that he hoped for. There are now proposals for other collaborations and side engagements that’s doing a lot for the company’s brand and expansion. 

To say that Jungkook and the team have been busy is an understatement. You went back to work after those few days of recovering with everyone overwhelmed by all the things they had to do but like you expected, you all managed and got things organized. There are still multiple things to handle all at once, but everyone’s just been on top of everything and showing how competent you all are as individuals and as a team.

Within that period, Jungkook has stopped by the team’s office and the pantry more times than those first months. He also managed to laugh at Do-hyun’s unfiltered remarks a few times and even slipped his own that got the team giggling. He’s seemed a lot more relaxed and so has the team. Lunch meetings have been regular given all the work you all have to do. Yohan and Chin-sun even say that they’ve gotten to know Jungkook a little better through their visits to the Arts Center. And while they do think he’s still a bit detached and catch him in his own world sometimes, he’s a lot more engaged and is actually way smarter than they’d initially thought. 

Jungkook checks his phone and sighs, prompting you to turn to him.

“Seokjin says the party is an intimate event but there’s gonna be over two-fifty guests so I don’t know about that,” he shakes his head, showing you the restaurant bar where his friend will be launching his alcohol brand. “For some reason, he expects me and Tae to entertain guests on his behalf.”

This was another development you hadn’t expected. Since that morning when Jungkook sent you food when you were unwell, your relationship changed. It’s still professional but there’s more openness now, as if that prompted both of you to be comfortable around each other. 

There’s more trust and honesty, too - he lets you make decisions, lets you handle the team when he’s away, and asks you for your unfiltered opinion. You feel like all the time you spend together has allowed you to learn how he sees and understands things; you even finish his sentences sometimes. 

He’s also loosened up a bit and allows himself to laugh and smile more. They’re still rare occurrences but you never point them out, not wanting him to feel awkward and then stop. They often catch you off guard so you haven’t been able to fully appreciate them but at least he feels comfortable around you, enough to even talk about non-work stuff and things that fill his mind, like random questions or small concerns. 

You’re unsure if he notices how uninhibited he’s become but you don’t point it out either. He still has his moments of living in his head, his faraway thoughts rendering him quiet and observant, and his perfectionist attitude means he’s still critical sometimes. But he doesn’t take anything out on you - not his frustrations nor his fears. He’d usually keep to himself and talk to you once he’s cooled down and you’d take that any day, so long as you keep your sanity and are able to do your tasks as instructed.

In return, you let yourself be the same. You’ve fully restored your confidence and that’s allowed you to show just how capable you are. You’ve been more vocal with your thoughts, too, and don’t take it personally when he doesn’t agree. You smile a lot more, joke with him even, and have been more generous with words of encouragement and affirmation. They come more naturally than you expected, and you appreciate that he doesn’t turn you away whenever it happens.

He’s actually okay to be around when he’s not being grumpy or difficult. You suppose that the situations he was put in - and how you responded with patience and understanding - allowed him to see that you’re truly on his side and that let him put his guard down a little. You’re past trying to please him for the sake of making your job bearable; there’s actual joy in it now, and while the search for who you are outside of all this continues to ring in your head, you think that sticking around for now isn’t so bad either.

“Perhaps Seokjin has seen how good you are with entertaining guests now and deems you worthy of being an extension of him,” you respond to Jungkook’s earlier musings. “And he wouldn’t be wrong. You’ve become really good at it.”

“You know, I think you oversell me sometimes,” he chuckles. 

“Hmm, I think I don’t,” you counter. ���If I may say so, Mr. Jeon, it's just that the bar was pretty low so the improvements are quite striking.”

“Fair enough,” he laughs, not taking offense.

“You can still do better at charming people. Maybe you can learn a thing or two from Seokjin and Taehyung,” you push.

“Those two flirt, they don’t charm,” he playfully rolls his eyes.

“Well, I completely disagree, sir. I mean, I’ve seen it firsthand. And I’m not one who’s easily charmed.”

“Fine, I’ll see what I can pick from them, then,” he concedes.

“Kidding aside, I think you’ll be fine, Mr. Jeon. Plus, it’s unrelated to work so there’s no need to impress anyone,” you state. 

“True,” he hums. “But just thinking about these next few days is already making me tired. Tae rented a yacht for tonight. We have Seokjin’s launch tomorrow, and to celebrate, he’s throwing another party the day after.”

“Hmm, must be that you’re getting old,” you tease, earning you a hum in agreement. “But you’re used to that though, right? They always said that was your life back in Singapore.”

“It was. I had less responsibilities and people to manage but back then, everything seemed too much,” he shares. “I took the weekends seriously and really just did whatever I wanted. I haven’t done much of that these past weeks because I’ve been so tired and I feel like I’m under the microscope when I’m here. So yeah, I’ll probably just take advantage of being back there and just enjoy it.”

“As you should,” you say. “You’ve worked hard and you deserve to spend your weekend however you wish. Just, uh…”

“What?”

“Probably give Lucas a heads-up in case a half-naked woman greets him in the kitchen on Monday morning.”

The silence is deafening and you think you’ve crossed a line with this one. You turn towards him and he looks stunned at your unfiltered remark.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you bow in apology. “That was too personal.”

“It’s okay,” he responds after a beat of silence. “I guess I deserve that. I mean, I never apologized for the morning when you experienced exactly that. And for when you found that underwear on the floor, which I forgot to clean up. So, uh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, too. I got over it,” you assure him. “And if anything, I’m pretty sure she left that on purpose so she’ll have a reason to come back.”

“That’s exactly it,” he groans. “She saw me again and wanted to go to my apartment so she could get it. I told her I threw it away.”

“How brutal,” you tease again.

“Not my finest moment but yeah, I’m sorry to put you in that position. Must’ve been tough seeing proof of all the washroom gossip.”

“You know about those?” You gasp. 

“I’ve heard about them,” he sighs. “Mr. Ri’s got eyes and ears in the office.”

“It’s hard to defend so I just don’t try,” the older man shakes his head. “Not like you deny it anyway.”

“Not like I really care,” Jungkook shrugs. “But even then, I guess it wasn’t the best start for us,” he tells you.

“Perhaps not, but I’m not one to judge, Mr. Jeon. That’s all in the past now, and that feels like a lifetime ago.”

“It does,” he hums. 

It’s during these casual exchanges when you get to see a bit more of Jungkook as the person that he is, beyond the perfectionist executive who still harbors fears and worries about his new role. He’s still a human being who finds ways to deal with the stresses of life, someone who needs time to step away from his burdensome responsibilities, someone who seeks intimacy and connection and finds ways to attain them in his own ways. The doubts and worries are still there, but the foundation has stabled a bit. Somehow you think that you’ve created a space safe enough for him to talk about them, to apologize, and to try to be better. You hope he gets to create that for himself, too, and if that’s what you’ll leave him with by the time you decide to step away from this job, you think you’d be satisfied. 

Silence engulfs you both and like he often is after being vulnerable with you, he keeps to himself once again. You wait a while before running through his meetings for today and next week and inform him of what the team will be working on while he’s away. Jungkook responds with a few last-minute instructions, especially about the tasks he needs done in time for your team meeting on Monday. You’re both back to professional talk and you don’t really mind; there’s something about being honest and open that could be a bit disarming.

The car stops and Mr. Ri exits to retrieve the luggage from the trunk. Jungkook, in his navy blue suit, gathers his things and says goodbye. Before he can close the door, you call out his name.

“Yeah?” He asks, his one hand carrying his bag and the other, on the roof of the car as he bends to look at you.

“Happy birthday,” you say. “I know you think it’s just an ordinary day but I hope you celebrate well.”

“Thank you,” he says after a few seconds, basking in the softness of your smile for the short moment that he can.

Jungkook steps away then closes the door. He heads to the airport lounge before taking the 6-hour flight to Singapore, spending it on reviewing reports and design proposals. He goes straight to the office when he lands, settling down in his room where he responds to emails. He munches on some dumplings for lunch, thinking he’s missed the ones from the restaurant across the street, but then Lucas enters and sets down a bowl of seaweed soup.

“Ms. Cho asked me to get this for you, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook is caught off guard but manages to dismiss Lucas and tastes the dish. It’s nothing like his mother’s, but then again, he hasn’t had it in years. When Jungkook moved here, there were no celebrations apart from getting drunk at a club, which is also why he’d stopped thinking of his birthday as anything special. There were no traditional meals or well wishes or birthday cakes.

He’s here again. There’s that yacht party tonight but it won’t feel like a celebration. Somehow, with this bowl of soup, this does. You’re a thousand miles away but even then, he still feels your presence. Even then, he feels more cared for than he has these past several years combined.

Jungkook wakes up the next morning with a splitting headache. His neck feels a bit strained, given that he’d slept in an awkward position wearing his clothes from last night. He also barely remembers much. One minute he was drinking with a woman around his arm and the next he’s… here. 

He shifts and lays flat on his back, groaning as last night’s happenings manifest in the soreness of his entire body. The yacht was fancy, as he’d expected from his best friends. There was overflowing food and drinks, the music was great, and the guests were honestly too many for his liking. There were familiar faces and new ones, but he mostly stuck around with those he knew. What he also remembers is not being able to taste his cake. He’s definitely calling Seokjin to complain.

Suddenly hit with the thought of not knowing how he’d gotten home last night - or with whom - Jungkook sits up and groans once more, the incoming call adding to the ringing sound in his head.

“Mr. Jeon,” Lucas answers on the other end. “How are you feeling today?”

“Terrible,” Jungkook says, now finding the strength to get off the bed. “Did you take me home?”

“Yes, sir. You wanted to leave so Mr. Ri and I took you to your penthouse,” Lucas answers. “Your valuables are on the table.”

Jungkook sighs, knowing it was one of those nights. Removing his clothes, he sees the fresh marks on his chest. Wanting to prepare himself before finding some stranger in the other room, he asks his assistant if he’d brought someone home with him.

“No, sir. It was just you. She, uh, she asked to come but you told her you were too tired so she stayed behind.”

“Oh, good,” Jungkook exhales in relief, not wanting to deal with any of that this morning, which is one reason why he always asks them to leave. “How long do I have until I have to get ready for tonight?”

“About five hours,” the younger man replies. “You have a scheduled dinner with your friends at 5:30 and then the event at 8. I’ll be there before that to help you get ready.”

“Alright, thanks. I’ll just workout to deal with this hangover.”

“Medicines are in the cupboard, sir. Please just let me know if there’s anything more you need.”

“I will.”

Jungkook hangs up and presses on his temples as if that’ll do anything. He retrieves the medicine as advised and thinks of something else he needs - a cup of lemon ginger tea. Ever since you’d prepared one for him that one morning, he’s been having it after every night out. He calls the butler to have it prepared for him, given that he doesn’t have the energy to do so himself. 

It arrives, and coupled with the aspirin, he’s starting to somehow feel better. He knows that heading to the gym will do the trick, as it always does, but it still makes him think that he shouldn’t have drank as much as he did last night. 

For someone who’s not particularly fond of people, even Jungkook sometimes wonders why he goes out and parties as much as he does. 

He wasn’t always like this though. His weekends used to be spent on food trips and travels, but after the breakup with Chaerin, those days became free, and he’d stay out late so he could sleep the rest of the next day. The women were to make up for the loneliness; the alcohol was to forget why he needed them in the first place. He hates loud and unnecessary sounds, but the music and the chatter started to become white noise for him; they’d become a companion to help deal with the noise in his own head, or the lack of it. 

Years later, the remaining thoughts in his mind were just all about work, and he’d revert to the same habit for relief - the women became his thrill; the alcohol was so he wouldn’t remember them. 

And it works. The ecstasy lasts only through the night. It’s fleeting as his desire for them is. He doesn’t recall names, just that they made him feel good and that they felt the same; they often try to hook up with him again after all, seeking him in the clubs they know he frequents. But he rarely entertains them; a second time leads to a third, and he can’t be assured that they won’t ask the same tiring questions he hates hearing - why doesn’t he have a girlfriend? Why doesn’t he want to commit to anyone? Does he see himself settling down and having a family? What’ll make him want that?

It’s happened a few times, during the rare instances that there’s a lull in between and they take advantage of his brief period of vulnerability to make him open up. He never does, and it’s not because he thinks it’s a weakness to do so, but he just never really let the moment linger to find out. 

After a light meal, Jungkook heads to the gym and spends three hours expending his energy so he could get it back. 

This is his other means of dealing with his stress. Working out makes him focus on something else and it helps in releasing all his anger and frustration. As he stares at his bare body in the mirror right after - the marks from last night still visible - he scoffs at himself. 

He’s so stereotypical, it makes him sick. He’s allowed himself to let his life revolve around the shallow and fleeting sensations of pleasure to counter the permanence and inevitability of his job. This is his world and he made it this way. And while he drowns in the nothingness inside the walls that he created, he still thinks it’s better than being outside; somehow he thinks it’s lonelier and more burdensome out there. At least in here, he’s all he has to deal with; he’s all he can disappoint.

But there are still moments when he wonders what it could be like if he just dared to live differently. Like when he watches Seokjin animatedly explain the history and creation process of Korean traditional alcohol during the product launch that evening and how his passion is moving and infectious. Or when he observes how Taehyung freely moves around the club and makes connections with others as deep as his smile. 

Jungkook thinks about all this as he glances at the woman next to him later that night, bare under the covers like he is, her body curled into a cocoon as she takes a break. 

She’d caught his eye earlier because she wasn’t trying to get his attention like the others were. She spoke less and screamed more, let him do what he wanted but touched him softly as she pleased.

“You’re a good lover. Why do you waste yourself with something temporary like me?” She’d asked. 

It left him speechless and he shrugged - a change from his usual dismissal - but there’s really nothing to say. 

Why does he? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to. 

But it’s at this moment that he tries to imagine what it would be like if it were the same face he saw next to him every morning, if it were the same hand he held everyday, if it were the same warm body he curled into every night. His mind wanders too far, into the depths of a place it can’t go to, beyond boundaries he can’t cross, and the sight is both terrifying and calming. 

It’s safer where he is.

So when she wakes up from a short nap, she looks up at him, her soft eyes wishing for something she knows she shouldn’t.

“You should go,” he says, the softest he’s ever uttered the words. 

“Okay,” she whispers in submission. 

She gets up from the bed, finds her stray clothes on the floor, and puts them on. Jungkook follows her to the door, a first for him. Maybe it’s her gentleness, or the unspoken understanding between them, or maybe because she doesn’t ask for more even if she seems to want to. 

But though he contemplates pulling her back to try to feel what that’s like - seeing her in the morning, holding her hand, curling into her embrace - he doesn’t. He knows even that desire would end; it’s fleeting just as everything around him is.  

He holds open the door. She turns around with a smile.

“I hope someday you find someone you’ll ask to stay,” she says, surprising him again. “I’m sure they would.”

You walk around the store in awe of the luscious plants displayed on the shelves, your eyes as bright as the lights that shine over them. There are so many to choose from, and though you have an idea of what you want to have, it’s tough deciding which ones to get right now. The money tree is a must, so is the Chinese evergreen. But do you go for the orchid or the peace lily? Can you keep up with a spider plant? How many of the asparagus ferns should you get?

Your eyes flit from one plant to the next, eventually deciding on getting everything on your list then placing them on the cart for payment. 

Jimin chuckles next to you. “Since when were you a plant mom?”

“Since she got that aloe vera from Yoongi and she was convinced that she has a green thumb after it didn’t die,” Soomin deadpans next to you as you frown at her sarcasm. “That’s also after my weekly reminders to water the plant because ‘no care’ doesn’t actually mean it’s going to survive on its own.”

“Oh, shush,” you scoff at her. “You told me I was doing a good job.”

“You’d send a photo every few days, hun,” she laughs. “What else was I supposed to say?”

“True. I needed the encouragement,” you shrug, paying for your haul. “But also, I’m a plant newbie. Yoongi said that I probably need some of them at home and in the office for positive energy and he’s not wrong. All the frustration from months ago just accumulated in my apartment and I need a change.”

“So… Is Yoongi a plant dad, too?” Soomin wonders.

“No. He just knows about a lot of things,” you reply. “Plus, he’s an architect and a designer. He knows a thing or two about plant decor.”

“Why isn’t he here with you, then?” She arches an eyebrow.

“Because I’m with both of you, duh,” you roll your eyes. “And before you say anything more, I don’t really like mixing my work friends with my personal friends. It’s different.”

“Well, I’m glad we could join you on this new phase of your life,” Jimin tries to be encouraging. “It’s like turning over a new leaf.”

You scold him over his terrible pun but laugh anyway, enjoying the comfort and playfulness that only your best friends could bring. They picked you up from work last Friday then you all headed to a club after dinner. You spent yesterday at a beach at their insistence then stayed in during the evening. It’s now Sunday and you’re dragging them around as you run errands before saying goodbye to them again, and it’s not a normal day without Soomin mentioning Yoongi. Perhaps it’s because of all the guys you’ve mentioned that have taken interest in you, he’s the only true green flag; he’s also the only one you didn’t entertain at all. You suppose that’s something she’ll not really get over. 

The three of you head to a nearby cafe. Jimin excitedly talks about the latest menu item in their chain of restaurants while Soomin groans about the stuff she has to deal with as she manages her family-owned shipping company that’s the biggest in the port city of Busan. They turn to you and ask how the rest of your week is going to go, with slightly surprised looks when you don’t talk about work with as much disdain as you used to. There’s excitement, even, something that Soomin points out, and when you mention that Jungkook is on an overseas trip, she assumes that’s the reason why.

“Not really,” you clarify. “He arrives tomorrow evening, but the week’s packed - we’re visiting the Arts Center for inspection and then I’m doing an ocular with Chin-sun for the VP events we’re holding in the next few months. I mean, I won’t be buried in files nor will I be in meetings all week. So yeah, it’s not bad.”

“That’s good,” Jimin beams. “At least it’s nothing like how it used to be. Right?”

“It’s a lot better, I told you guys,” you say, reminding them of a similar talk you had the last time they were here, which was a week after you’d gotten sick. “Jungkook is… rational, less grumpy and impulsive; he also listens to me and trusts me. He’s even smiled a few times.”

“Wow, he really set the bar low for you, huh,” Jimin chuckles, earning him a nod.

“Does that also mean that he’s now completely bearable and no longer your type because he’s not an asshole anymore?” Soomin chimes in, being the blunt and bold one among the three of you.

“He never was my type in the first place,” you scowl. “Plus, he’s literally my boss, Soo. That’s like, not some flag, it’s a whole ass brick wall that shall not be crossed.”

“Right. That’s why Mr. Min didn’t make the cut,” she points out. “Told you you should’ve just quit your job so you could date him.”

“And I also told you that wasn’t the only reason why I didn’t want to,” you remind her. “Yoongi’s exactly the type of person I need in my life, and being more than friends is the surefire way of making sure that doesn’t happen. Like, why would I risk a good friendship for something that may not work out? Whether I break his heart or he breaks mine, it’s pain I can’t handle. There’s just no going back from there.”

“Right, that is your biggest fear,” Soomin replies softly, the sympathetic tone in her voice telling you that she does understand where you’re coming from. “I mean, it’s still possible that you wouldn’t hurt each other but I get it. It just sucks, I guess. The good ones often start as your friends.”

“I know. And I’d rather have them and be single than none at all,” you sigh. 

The thought is simpler than it seems. You won’t deny that you’ve thought of how things would’ve been if you gave Yoongi a chance, but the fear of what you’d lose always trumped that type of possibility. 

There’s a kind of pain you don’t want to experience, one of a broken heart caused by losing someone you’ve given your all to. It’s how you think you love, after all; you can’t give any less. But it’s also why you’ve never done it. No one’s inspired that kind of devotion for you. 

Soomin has pointed out before that it’s probably also because you don’t open yourself up to the possibilities as you should. Maybe you’ve just been too focused on other things. But maybe you also just haven’t felt the kind of all-consuming desire for someone who would be worth it, one you’d want so much that you’d willingly face the fear of paralyzing heartbreak just to be with them. 

You suppose that’s the difference. That’s the irony, too. You’re scared to love because you’re scared of the pain, so you keep your distance to keep yourself safe but it’s also why you haven’t found someone you’re willing to crawl out of your walls for.  

There’s not much you feel passionate about in life. Maybe it’s love. But you’re too cautious to feel it, to look for it, so you don’t really know. Maybe it’s something else completely, and working in the environment that you do hinders you from discovering it. You’ve kept your distance from a lot of things over the past years and the thought that one day, you’ll be able to feel free from all the burden you carry because of a past you couldn’t control, makes you look forward to the day when you get to walk away from all those and hopefully, find whatever it is you’re looking for. 

Jimin nudges you after you zone out, and you switch the subject and ask about the latest gossip in their hometown. You enjoy living vicariously through their social life back in Busan. They not only come out here to Seoul to see you but also to take a break from all the drama that they can’t really escape from, given the type of people in their circle of friends. You always thank the heavens you got lucky that at 10 years old and making a new life in a new city, you found Soomin and Jimin, perhaps the only other people aside from your mother who make you feel safe and protected, a feeling you don’t take for granted. 

They indulge you and share some stories, but when Soomin goes through her social media feed to show you something, she gasps instead when she realizes that the men in her friend’s Instagram post include Jungkook.

“Did your boss just go there to party?” She asks, showing you the photo.

“Partly,” you reply. “His best friend hosted the launch of his alcohol line there but there are a couple more parties because it’s his birthday weekend. Your friends went?”

“Yeah, some of them are Kim Seokjin’s friends, apparently,” Soomin says. “Small world. But then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. Seoul and Busan socialites attract each other.”

“Why aren’t you there, then?” You chuckle. 

“We’re choosy socialites,” Jimin clarifies. “Or like, pretentious. We just act like we are but we really aren’t, just to say that the Park and Cheon kids are interesting and sociable like the rest of them.”

“Who says they’re interesting and sociable?” Soomin states incredulously. “My eyes roll to the back of my head every time I’m in those shitty events. The lack of self-awareness of rich people repulses me. And I obviously don’t count us in.”

“And you shouldn’t,” you confirm. “I attract good people, I guess. I’m glad you’re not like them.”

“Well, what about Jungkook’s friends?” Jimin asks. “How are they like?”

“What I can say about the Kim brothers is that they’re nice people,” you say. “Very charming, ridiculously good-looking... And they sound like good friends, too. I can’t say much else. Their dating game is pretty strong though.”

“I’d assume. I mean, when you look like that, how could you not be?” Soomin states. “I mean, even Jungkook’s on point. That’s some hot girl he’s got.”

She shows you a couple of Instagram stories from her friends posting about the launch party. It turns out, there were a lot of Korea-based personalities who were invited. You spot Jungkook immediately, wearing the all-white ensemble that you packed for him the other day. His hair is a bit curled and the knitted top underneath the simple coat highlights his taut physique. There’s also that gorgeous woman around his arms, and if what you know about him is enough, you’d guess she’s probably one of those he seeks for a good time. 

The sight of him loosening up a bit and enjoying himself is something you appreciate. He’s always stressed when he’s here and you’re glad he could spend a few days partying elsewhere without having to think about work, especially during the week of his birthday. You don’t know how much of this aspect of his life he enjoys, but he does seem a bit free yet still somehow detached. You suppose that’s something he’ll always be - a man trying to live his life while separating himself from the meaning of it. You’re unsure of how he does it but perhaps it’s not that different from how you are, too. 

After lunch, Soomin and Jimin do a few more of your errands with you before dropping you home and then heading back to theirs. You spend the rest of the evening arranging your plants in your tiny apartment and feeling like more life is breathed into it with every one of them finding their home in a corner or on a shelf. Oddly enough, you feel a bit less lonely. That’s how you think you’ve been doing things, after all - finding substitutes for the kind of company you’re yearning for, for the kind of relationship you’re so afraid to have.

Jungkook wakes up that Monday morning feeling a lot better than he did the days before. For one, there’s no ringing in his head nor the feeling of dehydration. Bare under his soft covers, there also aren’t any fresh marks on his chest that signify the kind of night he usually has. In fact, he remembers most of it - he stayed by the bar and briefly chatted with the women who’d approached him. 

Suzy was there last night, too, the only one he’s hooked up with more than once, and probably the only one he’s had proper conversations with, given that she’s a landscape designer. She’s been away on business trips and had just gone back, her bluntness about going back to his apartment that she’s too familiar with being met with a rejection that she didn't take personally. 

“Has Seoul changed you?” She asked, her eyebrow arched in anticipation of his reply.

“Do you think a place would do that to me?” He laughed.

“No, but a person would,” she shrugged. 

“None of that,” he shook his head. “There’s no one. I’m too busy, too tired.”

“But not too lonely?” she asked. “It’s the only reason why you would call me.”

There was no bitterness in her words but still, he asked. “And why did you always come, then?”

“To see if each time would be good enough for you to not make me leave.” 

The conversation took a turn that he didn’t expect, the usual honesty in her words being too honest for him. He fumbled for something to say but she shook him off, claiming that she knew what she was getting into every time he took her home and that constantly hoping for something doesn’t guarantee that she’d get it one day. 

He drank a couple of glasses of whiskey after she left but managed to call his butler for a sandwich and lemon ginger tea in time for his arrival at his penthouse. The meal did the trick, as he’d slept soundly after a warm bath without a splitting headache and regrets the next day. 

It’s Monday, after all, and it’s back to work as usual. He has a few meetings to attend before flying back to Seoul, one of which is with the team. He gathers the energy to get off the bed for a half-hour exercise before getting ready. He eats the breakfast that the butler orders for him then heads to the office where he briefly meets with Lucas. 

Settled on his desk, he proceeds to virtually meet with the team, who all promptly greet him from the conference room. He asks how their weekend was, with most of them looking surprised because he rarely asks them about it, but they answer anyway. That’s when he notices that you’re not around, prompting him to look for you.

“I’m here, Mr. Jeon,” you answer off camera before appearing on screen with a candle-lit cake in your hands.

He’s surprised when the team sings him a happy birthday, your eyes fixed on him as you mouth the words with a soft smile on your face. Do-hyun giggles at his silence, saying that he probably forgot it was his birthday or he maybe didn’t expect that they’d prepare something for him. 

“We like you now, Mr. Jeon,” she teases, earning him a nudge from Chin-sun but she doesn’t seem to mind and neither does he. 

It’s what makes him laugh, hoping that the pink on his cheeks aren’t visible on screen. He hadn’t expected this. He also knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he’d bet that you had everything to do with this.

“You’ve probably been too busy to celebrate but we haven’t forgotten. More like, Ms. Cho made sure we remembered,” Manager Lee chuckles. “We hope you enjoy this little something we prepared.”

“It’s an ice cream cake so it’ll just be in your refrigerator and you can have some when you return,” you say. 

“Thank you,” he finally manages to say. “You didn’t have to but I appreciate it. I’m looking forward to having some when I get back. Ms. Cho should also buy another one big enough for the team to share.”

You nod in acknowledgment of his instruction before starting with the meeting. There’s a lot to talk about, given the Arts Center construction and activities, as well as the upcoming year-end events that they have to organize and coordinate. It goes on for over two hours and it ends with your gentle smile after he says goodbye.  

The rest of the day feels too long for Jungkook, especially during the late afternoon flight and eventual ride home. He stares at the photo you sent of the cake, making sure he sees the greeting on it. 

“Get home safely, Mr. Jeon,” you text him after he says thanks. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With the reminders of the impermanence of things and people this weekend, Jungkook finds comfort in the stability that you provide. It’s in your smile, in your reminders and organization of his life, in your thoughtfulness and patience. It’s in the assurance that tomorrow is another day, one in which he gets to see you once again.

The cake is simple but sophisticated. The mint chocolate flavor is exactly how he likes it and in ice cream cake form, it’s really delicious. He’s glad he gets to have this all for himself, as the team was able to enjoy one yesterday as per his instruction, and you’d sent a group photo of everyone enjoying it to him, the small smile that formed on his face no longer surprising him. 

For one, the comfort is there. He’s seen just how much better the team is working together because of it - they’re more open to giving him feedback and receiving his, any moment of frustration is easily mended with laughter, and his encouragement and affirmation have been motivating them as well. In the midst of it is you who makes sure that communication flows smoothly and that everything is on track, acting as the glue that keeps everyone together. 

He sees firsthand just how good you are at handling things, and how despite all the stress, you manage to get him seaweed soup and a cake for his birthday. It’s more than just the details regarding work that you’re on top of; it’s also details about his life, and how he’s responding to it tells him that maybe, whatever change there is like what Suzy observed, a big part of it is because of you.

“I’m glad you like it, Mr. Jeon,” your voice cuts through his thoughts. 

He looks up and sees you with a portfolio in hand, motioning towards the cake that’s now one fourth eaten.

“Ah, yeah,” he says, not denying it. “I feel like I haven’t had sweets in a while. Where did you buy this?”

“Oh, uh, I asked the baker who made desserts for the Arts Center event if she could make a customized ice cream cake,” you explain. “Fortunately she could. And thankfully it’s delicious. She enjoyed working with us so she gave us a discount.”

“You… had this made for me?”

He’d expected it to be store-bought, but learning you made the effort to reach out to someone reminds him once more of your thoughtfulness, of your care.

“Yes, I, uh, I just assumed you’d receive a few and I thought to give you something a little different.”

“It’s the only one I got actually,” he says, catching you off guard. Your face falls a little so he follows it up. “Like I told you, I don’t celebrate my birthday so I don’t let people know about it. And the ones who do also know that I don’t make a big deal out of it so they don’t really give me anything.”

“Oh,” you say, feeling a little sad. 

You’re not one to have big celebrations but you do have a bit of it. For your 30th birthday at the start of the year, Jimin and Soomin threw you a little party in your humble home in Daegu where they performed some of your favorite songs and enacted your favorite drama scenes to make you happy. There was no need for anything fancy - just your loved ones and your mom’s and Min-woo’s amazing cooking. 

But even before that milestone, your friends always made sure to at least get you seaweed soup and a birthday cake; they want you to remember that there are lives impacted because you were born. You can’t really say that Jungkook’s impacted your life the same way but you still value his existence; a small cake is just a little something to celebrate that. But the idea that his family and friends pass up on the cake - and perhaps the gifts, too - makes you think that there’s really not much in Jungkook’s life he feels he could share with others, that there’s not much he could give and receive in return. 

“I hope I didn’t cross a line if it’s something you don’t like people knowing,” you continue. “I just thought… it would be nice to receive something from us.”

“It actually was,” he admits, his voice soft and low. Turning away, he says, “it’s been a while since I actually thought about my birthday as anything other than ordinary. It’s nice to be reminded sometimes. So thank you, Ms. Cho. For the soup, too. I appreciate it.”

Perhaps it’s his honesty that does it, but you can’t help the smile that forms on your face. If learning how to express gratitude is something you could teach him, you already feel accomplished. 

It’s the next day when you find yourself back in Jungkook’s office, staring at the potted plant in your hands. You’ve gone from debating on whether to leave it on his desk or the coffee table, to even giving it at all. You won’t lie and say you didn’t know what you were thinking when you passed by the plant store after work last night to get this specifically for him. You did - you wanted him to feel that joy of receiving a gift, which you suppose doesn’t happen, especially for someone who can literally buy anything he wants. 

But still, it doesn’t mean that your good intention will be received well. You’ve given Hoseok a small gift every year for his birthday, partly because he likes receiving them and also because it’s your way of saying thanks. 

You want to give this to Jungkook as a form of gratitude, too. Despite how you both started, the amount of things you’ve learned from him and continue to have somehow made up for it, and you also know that he’s learning from you as well. He’s given you agency to make decisions. He’s also given you events and small projects to manage, making you realize it’s what you really enjoy doing. Seeing things come together the way you envisioned it is so satisfying. Perhaps without intending it, Jungkook’s showed you a way out, a path that you want to explore so much that you’re willing to let go of all that you know in this company for something new, for something that feels more like you. 

Your thoughts have completely digressed and with the time you took debating and reflecting, you hadn’t heard his footsteps, and so you jerk a little when he calls out your name.

Turning around, you bow in greeting, remembering at the same time that you have something that you’re not 100% sure yet you want to give right now. But as always, he calls you out on it. 

“Is that a snake plant?” He asks, walking towards his seat.

“Yes.”

“Is that the one on your desk?”

“Uh, no, actually,” you laugh dryly, knowing you can’t turn back from it now. “I… I meant to give it to you, sir. I just thought that, uh, the money tree on the shelf might be too lonely so I got you a desk plant. I heard it’s good for positive energy and to filter the air.”

“It is,” he hums. “Is that why you got yourself one?”

“I suppose. I figured it could help improve my mood. Yoongi suggested it before but I just kept pushing it back. I finally got some for my apartment last weekend,” you explain, just so he knows it didn’t come out of nowhere. 

“And you think this will improve my mood?” He arches an eyebrow. 

“Maybe,” you shrug. “We’ll probably need a dozen of them here but we could start with one.”

He matches your soft laughter with his own, which you’re thankful for. He reaches out for the plant, nonchalant like you when your fingers brush against each other. 

“Hopefully this will work,” he says as he places the small, white pot next to his desktop. 

You leave him so he could prepare for a conference call while you’re set to meet with the marketing team. Jungkook gazes at the plant and notices the little note attached to the string around the stem. 

Happy birthday, it reads. 

This wasn’t just something to match the money tree that Hoseok left for him that he hasn’t been caring for much. This was a gift for him. You probably assume that if he doesn’t receive birthday cakes, he wouldn’t be receiving gifts, either. And you’d be right. His best friends just throw him parties. And once he left Seoul to obtain his MBA in Singapore and stayed to work in their Southeast Asian headquarters, the distance between him and his parents grew. They’d reach out but he didn’t bother much, so he’d stopped expecting anything. After he broke up with Chaerin, he stopped receiving anything at all. This is the first time he’s gotten something from someone after a long time. 

It’s simple in its meaning and honest in its intention, and he doesn’t hold back the smile that forms on his face.

You watch the realization dawn on Jungkook from outside. You’d remembered the silly note you left right as you sat down and didn’t have time to take it back, which really wasn’t much, but you suppose it’s enough to tell him that the plant indeed is a gift. You don’t know if someone like him even receives them, or would even appreciate something so cheap and humble, but the gentle smile he has on tells you that he probably doesn’t get much, but that this is something he welcomes. 

Your smile follows soon after but it feels different this time. There’s pride somehow that your little gift could elicit something so rare out of him. There’s also a bit of awe; this is the softest he’s ever looked, with that tinge of gratitude and yearning, a complete contrast to what you know of him, to how you’ve always seen him. It’s… it’s actually beautiful. 

And this is when things start to get confusing, especially as your phone beeps with that SMS from him.

[From: The Boss] Thank you, ___.

It’s the non-work message. It’s the use of your name. This is personal for him and you acknowledge that it’s the same for you. Perhaps there’s a reason why you made the effort to get the gift last night, why it mattered to you that he received something to celebrate his birthday, and why seeing him appreciate it the way he does is making you giddy and satisfied at the same time. 

Maybe it’s the care you’re starting to feel for him that’s beyond just wanting to make your job bearable. You’ll dissect what that truly means later on, but right now it’s just you, him, and the glass wall in between the both of you. There’s distance, there’s a boundary, but there’s a transparent barrier that allows you to see what’s on the other side, one which allows you to know who he is behind the man you’ve come to know. And you admit, he’s not so bad after all.

The construction of the Arts Center is going better than expected. Given some of the delays due to the wrong materials delivered and some permits that took a while to get, the workers were able to make up some ground, largely due to Jungkook’s supervision. When you both visited a few weeks ago, there were many things to work on, and he managed to identify the priorities and find ways to get the project back on track. 

It was during those few days of constantly being on site that you saw how efficient and effective he really works. You admired his precision and attention to detail, how he instructed the team leads and project managers and laborers, how he put together the design of one of the rooms just as he’d envisioned it. 

He was commanding and decisive, and you appreciated his thorough and simple explanations that allowed you to keep up with him. He’s said that he wants you to understand what’s happening so that you’re well-informed should you need to communicate to others on his behalf, and what initially intimidated you turned into something you became interested in. Since then, you’ve been watching design shows to help you further. The challenge was welcomed, and now you feel like everyday, you’re learning something new on the job. 

His instructions from that time were followed, and you’re back today to inspect the rest of the spaces. Everything is so massive, and with one half of the wall of the performance hall already done, you can clearly see the upgrade. The details are impressive, and the way that the traditional designs merge with modern elements is a feature itself. 

You’re immersed in the intricacies of the ceiling, walking towards the wall to get a closer look that you don’t immediately notice the workers walking past you with a massive slab of marble. The moment that you do, you step back too quickly, tripping on your heels, and just as you brace yourself to hit the ground, you instead feel your back against a firm chest, with hands on your elbows breaking your fall.

You sigh in relief, even leaning your head back because nothing could be more embarrassing than falling on your ass in front of many people, including your boss. That is, until the familiar scent of jasmine and bergamot wafts through your nose and you realize that what you just did is debatably more embarrassing than what could’ve happened. 

The familiar clearing of the throat is what finally does it for you, and with wide eyes, you turn around and face him to apologize. 

“I’m sorry, sir. I—”

“Was so much in awe that you didn’t notice the workers passing by,” he finishes, his slightly teasing smile calming you down.

“Ah, well of course. The details are too pretty,” you reason, stepping back only a little. You look at him shyly. “But thank you. I was about to fall.”

“I know. And I was about to lose it if my assistant got injured on the job.”

“True. It’s bad publicity, I guess,” you shrug. “And distractions could cause delays. And that’s bad, too.”

“Or you know, I simply just can’t have you injured, simple as that,” he says with a little frown on his face. 

“Imagine if I didn’t see them? They could’ve dropped the marble and I would’ve completely lost it!”

“Why?” He arches an eyebrow.

“That slab is like, two months’ worth of salary, Mr. Jeon.”

“It’s actually more but that’s not the point,” he fully frowns now. “If you didn’t see them, then they could’ve hit you, and then you would be whining in pain right now. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, ___.”

His voice is firm and low, and you nod in acknowledgment because you also know he’s right. The workers’ vision was limited but yours wasn’t; you were just too distracted and if you hadn’t pulled early enough, that marble really could’ve done damage to you. And if it wasn’t for Jungkook catching your fall, then something bad still would’ve happened to you.

“But are you okay? You didn’t twist your ankle or anything?” He asks.

“No. Uh, the heel’s just a bit loose but I’m fine,” you reply, still trying to wrap your head around how he’d said your name - informally, in this setting, as he told you that you could’ve gotten hurt. Maybe you weren’t imagining the worried tone of his voice earlier.

“Okay,” he sighs. “You have to be careful next time.”

“I will, sir,” you reply. 

You step aside and Jungkook sees you from his peripheral vision as he returns to assessing, staying put and only glancing at the ceiling unlike earlier. He’d seen you marvel at the design of the hall earlier, and while he was initially doing the same, seeing you wide-eyed and impressed caught his attention more. 

Many times, he’s seen you look dejected, frustrated, angry. He’s seen your moments of focus and joy, too, but this is the first time he’s seen you be in awe. There was this softness on your face that was still filled with emotion, and he’d been drawn to you enough to see that you were about to fall. He’s glad he has quick reflexes and was able to get to you in time, the worry he felt at the thought of you getting hurt in any way was quite overwhelming for him. And while it’s partly because you’re his responsibility in this case, he also knows it’s more than that. 

He gestures moving to another room and you follow him outside, and just as you try to stay close to him, Jungkook also makes sure you’re away from any kind of danger. He moves to your side when there are workers nearby with their heavy equipment and large materials. He shields you from the drilling. He glances at you as you both walk towards the other performance hall. And when you get there, you see the ceiling installation is ongoing, and Jungkook immediately calls for hard hats for the both of you. 

He hands you one and you put it on, fumbling with the strap underneath your chin. You groan in frustration when you’re unable to lock it, and that’s when you see him move towards you. 

“Let me,” he says.

You stop your movements and shyly nod in agreement, and he waits for you to let go before he fixes it himself. 

It’s a little odd being on the other side, since it’s always you who fixes his tie or his coat. But you’re the one watching him now, with his furrowed brows and seriousness in securing this safety gear on you making you feel warm inside.

He steps back then looks at you, trying hard to control his laughter.

“Are you laughing at me, sir?” You pout.

“No. I don’t make fun of people,” he says, turning serious now, but you don’t miss the grin on his face.

It’s unfair that he looks good even with a hard hat on.

One of the project managers calls him and he goes around, with you staying close by. This performance hall is bigger and boasts of a more traditional design, which would hold the cultural performances that the Culture Minister is very excited about. You watch Jungkook inspect the space with thoroughness, checking each wall panel and each seat. 

It’s amazing to you just how involved he is with this project even with the project managers handling things relatively well. He wants to be on top of everything, he’s said; it matters too much for him to not know what’s going on. 

You see Yoongi enter the room and approach him. Once he sees you, he laughs as well.

“Do I look that bad?” You groan. “Mr. Jeon was laughing at me, too.”

“It’s a little big, and I guess I’m just not used to seeing you in one,” Yoongi shrugs.

“Why don’t you have one?”

“I don’t need it. I’m here all the time and nothing happens.”

“Well, I’ve been here a few times and I almost fell earlier,” you say, recalling the almost-embarrassment.

“I know, I saw it,” he chuckles.

“You were there?!” You gasp.

“No, I was totally in the other room that’s why I witnessed you almost get hit by the marble then trip on yourself,” he deadpans. 

“I didn’t see you, that’s all,” you shrug. 

“I was by the doors. I checked these spaces yesterday and I just wanted to be around in case Jungkook had new instructions,” he explains. “But I gotta say, you guys were kinda cute earlier.”

“Almost falling on my ass isn’t cute, Min Yoongi,” you scowl. “I could’ve either ruined the marble slab or hurt my bum. Either way, it would’ve been embarrassing.”

“I didn’t mean just you. I meant you guys,” he gestures towards Jungkook. “He caught you, didn’t he?”

“Yes… That was embarrassing, too,” you frown. “What’s cute about that?”

“He looked worried. It’s just not something I’ve seen him be towards other people, that’s all.”

“It’s because an injured employee on site isn’t good, okay? Plus, if I’m incapable, then no one’s gonna be around to make his life easier,” you reason.

Yoongi stares at you for a while before shaking his head. “Wow, you really are dense.” 

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you cross your arms in frustration. 

“Forget about it,” Yoongi shakes his head, deciding not to push it. 

He’ll tell you another time that he’s glad you’re becoming more of yourself again, that the light has somehow come back, that there’s now comfort you exude around the man you’d once despised. Yoongi feels assured now that there’s someone else who seems to be looking out for you, and that it’s something you don’t seem to mind at all.

“Yah! You’re being all mysterious again!” You pout, something he chuckles about. 

“Me? Mysterious? Come on. I’ve always been an open book,” he teases. 

You’re just about to nag him again when you hear Jungkook clear his throat, and you turn towards him and ask if he’s already done inspecting.

“There are still a few things I want to run by my design lead before leaving,” Jungkook says. “Please move my meeting to 3PM.”

“That’s noted, sir. I’ll give Mr. Hong’s assistant a call.”

You excuse yourself and step outside, leaving both men alone.

“Angering my assistant, are you?” Jungkook asks Yoongi, the curious yet playful tone in his voice evident.

“Nah, just teasing. That a problem?” Yoongi answers back. 

“No. It’s good she has someone she’s comfortable with at work.”

“Could be you, you know? That isn’t so bad,” Yoongi remarks, surprising him. “And it doesn’t cross whatever boundary you’re trying so hard to stay behind.”

“We’re not… on that level. I mean, I don’t know how to be someone other people are comfortable being around,” Jungkook admits.

“I don’t know about that. Seems like you’re already that for her,” Yoongi says. “I was just teasing her about how you guys looked cute earlier, when you broke her fall.”

“You were there?”

“Both of you really don’t notice other people when it’s just both of you, huh,” Yoongi laughs. “But yeah, I was. I saw her relief. And I saw you worry.”

Jungkook merely shrugs, not wanting to confirm. Even if he denies it, Yoongi will still believe what he wants to believe. But the older man knows you well just as much as he knows him. 

“You care about her, don’t you?” Yoongi responds to the silence. “And I mean not in a superficial way, or a good boss caring for his employee type of way. Like, you worry when she’s sick or overworking, when she’s hurt or in danger. You want her to always be safe, to get rest. You like having her near. You wanna know that she’s happy.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Jungkook finally answers. “I can’t think of her that way.”

“I know. That’s why you were the way you were,” Yoongi says. “How else do you respond to things you can’t control than through anger and detachment? But just because you shouldn’t, it doesn’t change the fact that you do.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that it’s wrong,” Jungkook counters.

“Well, irrationally calling her out and being angry were wrong, too, and you did those because you weren’t being honest with yourself,” Yoongi argues. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, the least you can do is be true to yourself about how you feel. Because the more you deny, then the more you resist, and when you do that, you end up hurting her. Is that what you want?”

“Of course not.”

“Then just… accept things - what you feel, what you both are, what you can or can’t be.”

Jungkook looks at his friend as if some epiphany had just transpired. It’s been difficult for him to make sense of what he feels around you. There’s always that air of familiarity, but the warmth and comfort are new. There’s the reality that you come from different worlds, but that you both somehow feel and experience and maybe desire the same things. There’s that sense of fear over change and of what he can’t control, yet you somehow provide the calm and stability that he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

It’s all these contradictions that have been messing with him, and Yoongi’s right - because of all the times that Jungkook had wanted to create that distance, all it did was hurt you. That’s the last thing he wants, he realizes now. He’s seen you struggle, and even if that’s just a fraction of what you normally go through, it’s enough to tell him that he doesn’t want you to experience that again, especially not because of him. It’s too early to say the extent of his care towards you, and it’s not something he’s willing or ready to explore right now. But just as Jungkook’s about to comfort himself that it’s fine, and that he shouldn’t dwell on it anyway so as not to further nurture it, Yoongi speaks again.

“Just… just a heads up, though,” he adds. “The care that I felt, that’s how it started for me.”

“What started?”

“Me, liking her.”

It’s at that moment when you come back from your call, and you inform Jungkook that the meeting’s been moved and that he has a scheduled one with some of the directors on Monday. 

“Alright,” he says, directing you and Yoongi towards the souvenir shop, temporarily disregarding what he was warned about.

“You two looked so serious. Everything okay?” You whisper to your friend. 

“Yeah,” Yoongi hums, giving you the most genuine smile he could give. 

There’s that sparkle and softness in your eyes that had captured him all those years ago. They dimmed throughout the years and they’ve just been sporadic, illuminating only during specific moments. He’d seen them again a lot more regularly, and even today, as you looked around the halls and admired the designs of the space. 

Yoongi doesn’t know if a certain person is the reason for that. He knows you enough that you wouldn’t even notice it, so you definitely wouldn’t know what caused the change. But as your friend, he hopes one day you will, so that if you’re brave enough, too, you’d try to make sure that the light stays. 

The inspection ends and you get back to the office at 4. You return to piles of documents you have to sift through and encode, and your original plan of leaving on time changes. 

Jungkook spends over an hour talking with Yoongi and the construction lead about the Arts Center, and once that’s over, you see just how exhausted he is. He’s massaging his temples and sighing deeply, and you know that whatever just transpired, he’s going to be thinking about it all throughout the weekend, which he doesn’t really have time for. The gala that one of the Board members throws annually is tomorrow night, an event you’ll be attending with him as well. 

You enter his room to remind him about it and to give some forms for his signature. He signs them off, and when you say you’ve got a few more requests that you’ll leave on his desk for Monday, he tells you to just wait until then.

“Go home, Ms. Cho,” he says. “It’s been a long week. And it won’t end until after tomorrow night.”

“What about you, Mr. Jeon?”

“I’ve got some stuff to sort through after inspection. I’ll probably leave in an hour or so.”

You frown, a mannerism of yours that he’s gotten used to seeing. It’s mixed with a pout that often makes him internally laugh because it seems unlike you. It also always means there’s something you want to say that you’re holding back.

“Should I not?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Hmm. Just thinking that it might be better for you to take a rest tonight, too,” you advise. “The gala could be quite draining and it would be good to save your energy for that.”

“I’ll think about it,” he hums.

“Then I’ll think about going home, too,” you answer back. 

Jungkook chuckles, knowing you’re always going to counter him in some way. And he’s glad that you do.

“You may go. And get a good rest, too.”

You nod and bid him goodbye, exiting the room to start packing your things. It’s five minutes later when the door opens and you see him with his bag, ready to head home as well.

You smile at his tender doe-eyes as he admits through them that you were right - he doesn’t have a reason to stay behind, so he’ll call it a night and get as much rest as he can. 

He pauses by the entryway, and you pick up that he’s waiting for you, perhaps to make sure that you’re indeed going home. You quicken your pace and walk next to him, steps in pace as you both go to the elevator and down to the lobby. 

“Mr. Ri can bring you home after me,” Jungkook says. “It’s late already.”

“Not late enough,” you reply. “I’m okay, Mr. Jeon. It’s not necessary.”

He concedes, and you wait for the car to arrive and say goodbye to him again. 

There’s a softness on his face as he lingers before he enters. A small smile forms, and it’s what you see until you fall asleep that night. It’s the same one that’s oddly been giving you comfort lately - it’s a little restrained but somehow it still looks vulnerable. Perhaps it represents how Jungkook’s been to you - there are some contradictions, but beyond all that, there’s care.

Mr. Ri happily greets you as you enter the car that late Saturday afternoon to head to Jungkook’s penthouse. He compliments your dress, saying it’s nice to see you in something formal that fits your style - it’s simple yet elegant, and you tell him that your mother wouldn’t stop gushing over you through the screen, nagging you to send full-body photos so she could appreciate you more.

Jimin and Soomin surprised you in the morning to help you fix up, insisting that they wanted to make sure you spoiled yourself for the event. If you wouldn’t, they would, so they treated you to the hair salon and had your nails done. They’re the ones who took so many photos like some formal dance, and Jimin commented that the only downside was that they were sending you off to pick up Jungkook. 

Defending your boss the way you did surprised you a little; it surprised them a lot more. You’d said that he bought you the dress, that he’s been nothing but kind, and that whatever negative feelings you had towards him are all in the past. Your friends understood, deciding not to ruin your night and then letting you go so they could eat out and meet you back at your apartment once you’re done. 

You chat with Mr. Ri about how things have been at work, your friends, and your family. You also talk about the gala and how it feels a little nerve-racking attending this time, given your experience with Jungkook. 

It’s a grand event that the company’s executives attend, and guests are asked to refrain from going solo. For such requests, it’s not unusual for them to bring their assistants. You’re expected to attend anyway, and assistants usually partner up with each other and it always worked. You went with Hoseok last year because A-yeong had a work event, and while you expected that Jungkook wouldn’t care for such request and maintain that he’d go by himself, you also didn’t think that CEO Jeon would insist that his son take you as his date so he wouldn’t be alone. 

The elder Jeon had reasoned that business discussions usually take place during the gala, and it would be good for you to be around and be familiar with the new people on the scene. Hoseok had said that they’re expected to stay through the whole thing, and it’s much better for his cousin to have a companion so he could survive the night. That was months ago when things were still a little shaky for you both. You still remember Jungkook’s displeased look when it seemed like he had no choice in the matter, especially since he probably thought that his father just wanted to make sure he’d act accordingly. It feels like a lifetime ago, really, as you think about his soft smile from last night. 

You don’t know exactly what you’re feeling, why his gestures or mannerisms suddenly mean something to you, or why there’s excitement when you think about seeing him outside of work. You’re unsure why the curve of his lips when he grins or the deep huff that follows his laugh makes you a little giddy, or why his eyes lingering on you makes your heart beat a little faster than usual.  

Just like right now, as they gaze at you while you seemingly do the same. 

“You look, uh—” he starts, unable to find the accurate but appropriate term to describe how you look. 

“Nice?” You finish, recalling the term he’d used when you tried this gown for the first time. 

“Something like that,” he chuckles, earning him a giggle from you.

He playfully shakes his head, perhaps knowing that you’re used to him not making grand compliments or anything. But he does smile after, and there goes that blissful feeling again. 

Maybe it’s because for the first time, you’re being appreciated. Maybe just like how it’s been recently, he likes being around you, prefers it, even. And given how you felt so unwanted during his first few weeks here, this is a blessing, as if in his appreciation of you, you’re liking yourself as well.

“Well, in my opinion, you look quite dashing, Mr. Jeon,” you say bravely. “Except your waistcoat seems to be uneven.”

“Exactly what I thought,” he sighs. “I can’t quite align it properly.”

And as you always do, you approach him, your hands immediately going towards his shoulders to flatten the vest, then his sides to pull it down. You adjust it a little bit more then fix his collar after, and suddenly this feels so natural - being close to him, taking in his scent, and smiling as he glances at you. 

“Do you need help with your coat?” You ask once you finish.  

He nods and you follow him to his walk-in closet where you take the last piece of clothing and assist him in wearing it. He adjusts the lapels while you assess if all wrinkles have been flattened. You watch him look at himself in the mirror and you can’t help but admire him as well. He exudes confidence, which you can say now is strikingly different from the Appointment Dinner where he still looked a bit unsure. But now, he commands respect. The deep black color of his striped three-piece ensemble with his slick hair parted in the middle makes him even more handsome, and you manage to hold in the gasp you were about to release as he faces you for a final look.

“All good?” He asks. 

“All good,” you smile, turning around and walking back to the living room. 

He follows, and he takes this time to bask in your beauty before he has to act like it doesn’t affect him again.

There’s a reason why he was rendered speechless the first time he saw you in this gown at the tailor shop, so much so that he had to step out to get some air. You look even more stunning now, with your classic but natural-looking makeup and your styled hair. You exude a certain kind of glow that sucks him in, that makes his heart race yet soothes him just the same. 

It’s a little dangerous for him, given that he’ll be spending this entire evening with you as his date, looking the way you do while he has to act disinterested, as if his attraction isn’t slapping him in the face and his internal alarm bells aren’t ringing.

But he has to act professional. He has to stay behind the lines even if his mind is yelling all the words about your beauty that he has to ignore. So he gives himself this short moment where he gets to admire you, and when you make it to the elevator and become confined in a small space, he holds his breath as you smile at him shyly, hoping that he doesn’t give himself away. 

He’ll get himself together, he orders to himself, and he’ll make sure he doesn’t scare you off. 

You make it to the lobby and enter the car. The drive to the venue is quiet at the beginning. It’s technically not a work day so there’s no reason to discuss work. You and Jungkook may have started talking about non-work matters but it doesn’t mean you readily talk about actual personal things. They’re occasional, as it’s not something he seems to do much and you’re often guarded about yours. It took a while for you to open up to Yoongi and even then, there are many things he doesn’t know. You’re comfortable around him, there’s no denying that, but there are still parts of you that you don’t like to share with others, and you suppose that Jungkook is the same.

But still, you ask how his evening was and how his day went, expecting he’d give a basic answer.

“I just stayed home last night and watched soccer over drinks,” he says. “Then I did my workout and went for a swim this morning. I did a bit of work in the afternoon and then got ready.”

“Ah, no party last night and then recovering from it in the morning?” You tease, knowing that’s a usual occurrence for him. Lucas did mention about the Singapore trip and how he’d taken home a passed out Jungkook on the night of his birthday. 

“Well, there was a party,” he responds. “There always is, but I passed up on it. I didn’t want to feel out of sorts tonight. There’ll be a lot of new faces and I don’t wanna mess up.”

“Oh, you won’t. You’ve been doing really well, Mr. Jeon. And that’s me being honest.”

“Why wouldn’t you be?” He arches an eyebrow. “Would you tell me otherwise?” 

“Well, the me of now, would. The me of a few months ago would want to but wouldn’t.” 

Jungkook dwells on your answer. “Hmm. What changed, then?”

“I got used to you.” 

He meets your gaze and somehow it feels too long. You don’t really know what prompted you to say it but you felt a little bold, a little too honest.

“In what sense?” he wonders, turning away now.

“I’d say I got used to the mood swings but then again, they haven’t been intense compared to those first few weeks,” you admit. “But surprisingly, it’s the calmness I’ve become accustomed to. And the seriousness and occasional zoning out, but also, the…”

Care, you want to say. Or the thoughtfulness. 

“Consideration,” you say instead. 

Jungkook’s throat dries up as he finds the words to say. He’s now afraid to look at you because he might give in and say something he’ll regret. He’s been praised before for his work and his designs, but he supposes that no one’s really complimented him for something he does for other people, specifically for you. Maybe that’s why he thinks he doesn’t deserve it; he’s unsure if he’s really considerate by nature or if he just is towards you. It’s why he brushes it off, insisting he just has his moments.

“But those moments could mean a lot to the one it’s shared with or directed to,” you counter. “Even if it was just once. Or even if it was so trivial that you probably forgot already. But the other person doesn’t. Or they would, but something about that moment stays.”

Jungkook thinks about the moments you’d shown him consideration. Or even care or thoughtfulness, but he wouldn’t word it that way to you. There are the big ones - when you showed your support of the Arts Center to his father, when you calmed him down during that first Board meeting, when you gave him the noodles when he was sick, when you stayed with him during his interview with the magazine publications.

When you stood up to him. When you didn’t quit after that first week.

There are also the small moments - the ginger and lemon tea on Monday mornings when he looks like he’d drank too much the night before, the biscuits you serve with his coffee, the affirming looks during team meetings, the comforting smiles from outside his office when he’s stressed. 

There’s a lot of those you show him, and he realizes now that he remembers each one. 

The silence returns soon after, as you both seem to prefer basking in the soft music that Mr. Ri plays. 

It’s 15 minutes later when you arrive at the venue. You get out of the car and meet Jungkook by his door, surprised when he offers his arm that you take. 

“This is how they do it, right?” He looks at you questioningly.

“Yes,” you chuckle. “It’s a little over-the-top but the hosts treat this like it’s some red carpet event and I just follow what the others do. Bitna says it’s the one time we could feel like proper ladies or something, whatever that means.”

“Hmm, makes sense. I guess I’ll be a proper gentleman, then. Whatever that means.” 

You hold onto him lightly as you both make your way inside. You try to disregard the firmness of his arm and the way it feels under your touch, so you gently let go not long after and clutch onto your purse instead, not wanting to give off the idea that you’re anything more than each other’s dates. You greet the guests and establish your position to those who are unaware in an effort to show that this social event is a work function as well. 

Jungkook talks about the Arts Center when he can, and you mentally take note of certain projects, sites, events, artists, and patrons that are mentioned, quickly typing them on your phone for future reference. He talks to you about them in between flutes of champagne and canapes that are some of the most delicious you’ve ever had.

Jungkook laughs as you down another brie and cranberry bruschetta.

“What? I like fancy food,” you pout.

“Yes, your normal people’s taste buds like fancy food,” he teases. 

It’s a statement you make often and you smile that he now uses it against you.

Your moments of casual ignorance of what’s going on around you are ones you find yourself enjoying too much. You internally sigh every time a guest approaches him, and even more so when you find yourself with a few others and someone stands a little too close, or has his hand linger on your elbow, or whispers something in your ear as if you’re at a bar and the music is too loud, which it isn’t, so there’s really no reason for this son of some business tycoon to be asking you to head outside “to talk.”

“Don’t you have a date?” You ask after he insists. 

“Yeah, some girl,” he shrugs. “She’s kinda boring. Lucky I found you.”

You awkwardly smile, knowing it’s not your place to reject him and make a scene. He looks to be the type who always gets his way and if he doesn’t this time, you’re afraid of how he might take it. 

You don’t budge and call for another flute of champagne instead, finishing it in one gulp that has the man releasing a deep breath in front of you.

“So you’ve been working for the Jeon’s for 8 years, you say?” He speaks again.

You nod, looking around to avoid his eyes.

“That’s quite a long time, yeah? I’m sure I can get you a spot at my company,” he brags. “I mean, we sell luxury cars. That’s way more interesting than buildings and shit.”

“I don’t drive,” you say too quickly. “I mean, I don’t know how to.”

“Perfect. I can teach you then,” he smirks. 

It’s the look that heightens your level of discomfort, and just as you’re about to make some excuse and run away, Jungkook calls your name that has you immediately turning towards him.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon?”

He’s not too far away; he comes closer yet still maintains a bit of a distance. 

“Hoseok’s asking for me but I want to speak to Mr. Saito before he leaves. Can you go to my cousin on my behalf?”

“Of course,” you say, excusing yourself and scurrying away from the scene, sighing in relief at the sight of a familiar pair of faces.

A-yeong gives you a hug and you return it, then you turn to Hoseok and ask what he needs Jungkook for.

“Nothing,” he says. “I didn’t call for him.”

“Oh, okay. Well, he said you did.”

“I haven’t spoken to him since we got here,” Hoseok replies. “You know how this gala goes. So many people to meet. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just… uh. Well, I just met Mr. Kwon’s son. And let’s just say, I don’t want that to happen again.”

“Oh, ___,” A-yeong sighs, knowing exactly what you mean. “Just stay with us. Or don’t leave Jungkook’s side.” Turning towards the man who’d just arrived, she adds, “stay close to her, okay?”

Jungkook looks at you, his eyes asking a question that you know the answer to but neither of you says anything. 

“I will,” he nods. 

Both of you stay where you are for a while before heading back to your seats for the sit-down dinner. You converse with those at your table, thankful that they’re all decent and entertaining. After that, Jungkook doesn’t leave your side. It almost seems like he’s your date rather than the other way around, but you appreciate his presence, especially when he calls your attention once you start looking uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “I just… I just get a little uneasy when people I don’t know get too close.”

“I understand. I’m the same,” he says, prompting you to look at him. “But I just feel uncomfortable, not unsafe. There’s a difference. And it’s not okay if that’s how they make you feel.”

He knew without you saying the words. It takes you back to that night at the restaurant with Hajoon and how Jungkook had looked the most guilty he’d ever been when you said that his staring made you feel uncomfortable. You supposed then that it was mostly because he thought he was causing a rift between you and Hajoon but you realize now that it was more than that. For all that Jungkook is, you’ve come to see that there are things he can’t stand himself doing; deliberately making you feel unsafe is definitely one of them. Perhaps it’s why at this moment, you feel the exact opposite being around him. 

And that’s how the rest of the night goes. He stays close but when he’s caught up in a conversation he can’t get out of, he gives you that look to remind you that it’s okay to step away, that you have the ability to remove yourself from a situation you don’t feel good being in. And you do, and the worry you used to have about being a mere assistant fades away. You never thought that one Jeon Jungkook would give you the permission to do that.

You’re seated on a chair some time later, the hours of walking in your high heels taking its toll on you. You wave to Hoseok and A-yeong, no longer having the energy to walk up to them for a proper goodbye. You sigh to yourself, feeling the tiredness slowly overtake you. It was still a good night, but it took a lot of energy from you, too. 

“Hey,” you hear Jungkook call out. 

You turn to him, still looking handsome as he stands nearby, his hands in his pockets as he mirrors your exhaustion.

“Ready to head home?” He asks.

“Yes,” you say too quickly, earning you a laugh. 

You stand up, limping only a tiny bit, but you think Jungkook notices, as he offers his arm just like he did at the start of the night.

“This is what a proper gentleman does, right?” He asks. 

“I suppose. Although I might say, Mr. Jeon, that’s what you were the entire time. So thank you.”

Jungkook nods in response, unsure how to receive your gratitude. He knows what you mean, as the first sign of your discomfort had him looking at you constantly. He was worried all night but he supposes there’s no reason to feel that way now, as your faint smile just signifies that you’re tired more than anything. 

For the short moment it takes for you to walk closer to him, he basks in your beauty once more. The night will be over soon, and he’s glad he could give you some reprieve this time. He tries not to lose it when you tighten your grip on his arm for support though, but that’s something he can think about later on. 

The walk to the car isn’t that long and you let go of him eventually. You head towards the other door then enter, the space in between reminding him of where you both belong - on either side of a line, one that he shouldn’t think of crossing.

You sink into your seat, fighting the urge to curl your body and take a nap, so you sit up straight and hold yourself together after once again feeling Jungkook’s arm under your touch. Most of the alcohol has left your system but perhaps not enough, as you boldly look at him and smile in appreciation. He returns it, perhaps knowing why you are.

You look out the window, appreciating Seoul’s night sky, until the vision starts getting unclear, as the rain falls steadily on the window. The tapping of the droplets on the glass is a sound you’ve come to appreciate, among other things that you used to be terrified of. 

There’s just this calmness, as if the rain is greeting you, accompanying you in your thoughts. But the sound of the radio getting louder disrupts that a little bit, and in looking at Mr. Ri in question only to find him glancing at the rearview mirror to see the man next to you, do you realize why he’s doing so.

Jungkook’s demeanor has changed, a complete 180 to how he looked not long ago when he seemed satisfied, fulfilled, almost proud of himself for surviving the night. He’s now cross-legged and cross-armed, with his eyes closed and jaws clenched, as if he’s trying to hold himself together. Or trying his best to drown out the sound of the rain, the way Mr. Ri is trying to do for him.

Your face falls at the sight. You’ve seen Jungkook stressed and angry and disappointed; you’ve seen him anxious, too, but this is different. There’s a bit of fear in there, and with the way he flinches and how he’s clutching onto his arms, you know this comes from somewhere and this was caused by something. If it’s anything similar to what you know, then this was because of something painful.

You want to reach out to him but you know you shouldn’t. You helplessly look back on the road then glance at Jungkook every few seconds as the rain continues. It doesn’t seem like it will be a terrible downpour but it’s stronger than usual. 

You try to remember instances in the past where he’d acted this way. A few come to mind, and you think now there’s a reason why he becomes uneasy when it starts to drizzle. That happened the other week while you were on a site visit with him for a small project, but you hadn’t thought much of it, given that he was on his fourth cup of coffee on the way there. 

But right now, you wish there was something more you could do; anything is better than nothing. But you feel constrained - by the distance, by your position, by his boundaries that seem to always be there.

By some miracle, the rain weakens, and it’s stopped by the time you arrive at Jungkook’s apartment building. The car halts and with him still in the same position, you think he probably doesn’t realize he’s home. 

“Mr. Jeon,” you say softly, gently tapping his arm to get his attention. “We’ve reached your place. And the rain has stopped. It’s… it’s okay to open your eyes now.”

It takes a few seconds but he takes a deep breath, opens his eyes, then looks around. It’s just droplets frozen in time on his window and he sighs in relief. Somehow the assurance that he’s okay means something to you this time; you hate to think of what burden he carries that he hides away.

He opens the door, and there’s a bit of disappointment you feel when he closes it and leaves without a goodbye. You suppose he just wants to get to his place immediately and rush to safety. But you don’t want to intrude, not if distance is what he needs, so  you settle with just watching him walk away. 

But then he turns around, and with that bit of boldness left in your body, you open the window and give him another smile. You wish he feels the tenderness in it; you wish somehow it’s enough to let him know that you understand, and that he’s not alone. 

“Good night,” you manage to say, and he hears it despite the distance.

“Good night, ___. And thank you.”

It’s the use of your name. It’s the softness of his smile and the words of gratitude. It’s the way he lingers as the car starts to drive away and you’re left watching him even from afar. 

It lets you know that he knows. And it’s the reason why you sleep soundly that night and why for the first time since you’ve met him, you can’t wait to see him again. 

Series Masterlist

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[landoughnut]

My Girlfriend

♡ masterlist - request!

♡ pairing - charles leclerc x fem!reader

♡ summary - at first you were worried about going with charles to the paddock for the first time since you got together, you didn't want to make a bad impression on anyone, what you both least expected was for everyone to like you more than him!

�� warnings - somewhat possessive charles, lots of fluff

♡ w/c & a/n - 1.07k | ahh im so excited this is my first for this account! please please send any requests you have cause I cant really think of ides ahaha xoxo

"Charles are you sure, they'll like me? I just-"

"Mon amour, they will love you," he kisses your forehead, "I promise". Walking hand in hand with him towards where everyone is, he feels you squeezing his hand.

Charles and you have been dating for a while already, but you'd kept it a secret from almost everyone else due to how harsh people can be. He wanted to protect you from all the nasty comments people may make, but now you are making your first public appearance.

You weren't a well-known figure or model like the other wags, although Charles has told you many times you can most definitely be one if you wanted to. He met you when he went to buy flowers for his mother, Pascale, and claims that it was love at first sight.

Finally, you get to where hundreds of fans crowded behind a gate, they start yelling when they see you two.

Charles wraps his arm around your waist as you two get closer so he can sign some stuff as he's passing by.

"Charles! Charles, who's this?"

"Is this your girlfriend?"

"She's beautiful, Charles!"

People shout many things along those lines making you blush and Charles smile. He kisses your head again as you give them a shy wave, cheeks pink.

Charles finishes a hat he's signing as introduces you to the crowd, "This is my lovely girlfriend," he speaks and is shocked at how loud the crowd was. Clapping, wolf-whistling, and awing. He hadn't heard one nasty comment, not that there was anything to hate on you for, but it's shocking to see the overwhelming amount of positivity.

"Hi, everyone," you speak, smiling at the people.

"Here! Take this!" a little girl yells holding out a bracelet.

Charles steps forward, "Thank y-"

"No no!" the girl takes her hand back, making him furrow his eyebrows, "for you, miss! You are very pretty."

Your eyes widen, "Me?" She nods and you crouch down to her, "Wow! It's gorgeous," you beam. It was a red beaded bracelet with Charles' initials and number on it. "I love it, thank you so much, sweetie!"

Charles' heart races and his stomach flutters watching you with the young girl, and then when you interact with the others, who seem to be giving you heart eyes at this point.

His eyes narrow at some men looking a little too intensely, so he catches up to you and puts his arm around your shoulder. You lean into him as he waves bye to the fans. You blow a kiss, making them get loud once again, and then walk with Charles to where the drivers were hanging around.

"You see, mon cœur, they adored you," he brings your hand to his lips, kissing your palm.

You let out a happy sigh, "They were a bit louder than I thought, but it was such a relief."

Arriving where the others were, Lando was the first one to spot you two. "Ah! Look who we have here! Charles and the girlfriend who he told but not showed," he grins.

You smile and lean a bit more towards Charles, "Hello," your voice quiet. These were your boyfriends friends, if they didn't like you-

You feel Charles give your waist a light squeeze, taking you out of your thoughts.

"Wow, no wonder Charles didn't bring you here yet," Lando grins and puts his hand on Charles' shoulder, "you've got yourself a stunner. Scared someone's gonna whisk her away, are you?"

You laugh and feel yourself relax, "Oh hush!"

You look behind Lando and see Daniel, Oscar, Max, Carlos, and Lewis coming over.

They all greet you and for the next few minutes all of you are having a great time together, laughing, making jokes, and it's as if you've all been friends forever.

Charles frowns as he watches, none of them even glances at him, too engrossed with you telling some stories from your floral shop. After a few more minutes he decided he had enough and walks over to you.

"Mon amour, why don't we head to my drivers room, I'll show you around," he smiles, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Alright, love. It was nice meeting you all! I'll see you guys soon!" You smile and they reciprocate it as you walk off.

Lewis and Max whistle in sync, "What a woman."

Charles huffs and hits his shoulder, "My woman, you mean."

Carlos chuckles, "Awh, is little Charles jealous?" Lando and Oscar laugh, glancing at each other.

"I'm not jealous," he frowns, crossing his arms. "It's just everyone we've seen today is fawning over her and it's like I'm not even here! Some of these people are ogling her like I, her boyfriend, am not right next to her!"

Danny shakes his head smiling, "Well, mate, she's a real sweetheart, what did you expect?"

"Well- I don't know! But she's waiting for me so... I'll see you guys later," he rolls his eyes as he hears his friends whistling as he walks towards you.

His eyes light up when he spots you chewing your lip, seemingly lost. "There you are!"

You turn towards him, "Thank goodness you're here! I was scared to ask for directions," you laugh.

"Good thing I'm here to be a guide then," he takes your hand gently and brings you into his room.

The moment the door is closed his lips are on yours, one hand cupping your face and neck and the other around your waist.

It took you a moment but you were kissing him back with the same passion. "I've been waiting to do that," he whispers, lips brushing yours.

You smiles, kissing him against. The rhythm of your lips together expressing your love without words.

He slowly walks back until he hits the bed, then sits down and grins as you straddle his lap.

"You're my girlfriend," he whispers, tracing your face, "my love, my angel."

You study his face as he admires yours, "I love you," you whisper, kissing him gently.

"I love you more, I don't know how I got so lucky."

You smile and hold his face in your hands, kissing his cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, and finally pecking his mouth, which was swollen from before. "I'm the lucky one, you are everything, darling," you smile.

He twirls a piece of your hair, "Alright, now how about I show you around the garage before people start wondering where we are?"

[maidragoste]

VI. Fury

Harwin Strong x Velaryon!Reader (unrequited love), Alicent Hightower x Velaryon!Reader, Larys Strong x Velaryon!Reader

Series masterlist

Part 6 of this

I still can't believe writing more than 5000 words, there were times when I thought this would never come to light and it frustrated me so please give it a lot of love and let me know what you think of this chapter 🥰💖💖

As always comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading 💖

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

When the Queen was informed that Harwin had been seen leaving your chambers in the middle of the night she felt her heart skip a beat. She was afraid that for some reason you had decided to forgive your husband for his indiscretions with the princess and give your marriage another chance.

When it was time for lunch that Alicent, Larys, and you had, there was no need for the Queen or Larys to ask you about your husband's sudden visit because you told them yourself. Harwin offered to help the twins put to sleep and you accepted because you were tired Alicent instantly offered to hire more maidens to take care of the children at night so you could rest but you refused saying that you didn't want other women to take care of your children. While you were saying that Alicent couldn't help but notice that you were looking askance at Larys as if you were expecting a reaction from him but she thought it must have been her imagination because when Larys changed the subject you didn't seem disappointed or upset. Unfortunately, the Queen's worries did not disappear throughout the meal so when you left to go spend time with your sister and mother she shared them with Larys.

"I'm afraid that he will once again occupy a place in her heart," the woman admitted, clasping her hands under the table. "What happens if he convinces her to give him another chance? What if she leaves us?" As she spoke, she took off part of the cuticle of the thumb. If her father was watching her he would be scolding her. She knew it was a horrible habit but the anxiety she felt at the thought of losing you was too great. Alicent wouldn't know how to live alone as your friend again, not now that she had tasted what true love was. No one cared about her like you do.

"You heard her, she only let him stay because of the children" the man reminded her as he poured them both more wine "She will never forgive him" he declared and the Queen was envious of his trust. Larys must have noticed that her concern was great because she added "Besides, she will never leave us, especially you. She always seems to want to kill Criston Cole for daring to breathe the same air as you."

Alicent hurriedly brought the wine glass closer to her mouth to hide her smile. Larys' statement had to upset her, after all, Criston Cole is one of the few people she trusts and she should be upset that you want to hurt him, but instead, she managed to calm her down a little.

But Alicent's worries soon grew worse as the days went by because Harwin kept coming to your chambers and the worst thing was that now the two of you with the twins were walking around the castle together. At first, Larys wasn't worried that Harwin would spend time in your chambers after all you made it clear that you were only using him to babysit the twins. But now Larys felt sick every time he saw the four of them together at court. They seemed like a happy family. Aethan shouldn't look so comfortable tied against Harwin's chest with one of the special clothes your mother had ordered for you from Essos, and you shouldn't look so calm when Harwin's hand is on your back while you hold Alyn. You should move away every time his brother kisses your forehead but you don't. You're never the one to initiate the physical contact but Larys still doesn't like it, he's not sure if you're really not pulling away because you don't want to make a scene or because you're bonding with Harwin now that he's spending so much time in your chambers.

One day Larys reaches his limit. You, Alicent, and Larys are eating together again but the man instead of joining the conversation you two are having is too busy thinking about the image of Harwin with his hand on your back again while you were both talking to some Lord and how later his brother left the conversation but not without kissing you on the cheek before leaving.

"Why do you let Harwin spend so much time with you?" he suddenly interrupts your conversation with Alicent. She looks at him surprised but at the same time seems grateful for him to dare to question your closeness with Harwin since she would never do it for fear of upsetting you.

"I told you he's just helping me with the twins," you replied, frowning at his rude interruption.

"You shouldn't be depending so much on Harwin to take care of your own children."

"Larys" Alicent's intention was a reprimand but he could detect the nerves in her voice and her eyes.

Larys knew he said the wrong thing when he saw how your eyes seemed to spark and how you abruptly dropped the cutlery.

"Our" you corrected him. "And maybe I wouldn't be depending on Harwin so much if you took charge" you spat every word like it was poison.

"We should take a moment of silence before saying something that we regret," the queen proposed in an attempt to calm the waters as she tried to take your hand but you pushed her away and barely looked at her.

"It's not fair. We both knew that when you got pregnant the child couldn't know the truth" Larys said, appearing calm, not wanting to let you see that your words bothered him.

"Of course, they won't grow up knowing the truth but you're not even trying to help me" you crossed your arms. "Even Daemon and Rhaenyra seem more interested in them than you," the bitterness in your voice was clear.

And the only reason for that was because they both wanted to fuck you but Larys wouldn't tell you that because it would only make your anger worse so instead he told you the reason for his distance.

"I stay away to avoid making people suspicious"

Not wanting the court to suspect him of being the father of your children was not the only reason for his distance. The truth is that Larys had no idea what to do with the twins. He saw the immense love you had for children. Not just you, your parents and your siblings too. Everyone seemed to love Alyn and Aethan from the minute they saw them but he didn't. Of course, he was worried about their safety the second you announced to Harwin and Lyonel that he was the father. He didn't want anything bad to happen to them but he wouldn't say that he loves them and he's sure they don't either, especially Aethan because the few times he carried them, they became instantly agitated and cried demanding to come back to you. Their crying made his head hurt and he's sure it made your head hurt too so he stayed away thinking it would save both of you the stress of hearing the children scream.

"People think you're their fucking uncle, no one will suspect that you spend time together. You're family." It was obvious that you were dissatisfied with his defense by the exasperation in your voice. "And don't tell me that you're afraid that someone will realize the truth because Aethan has the same eye color as you because months went by and no one said anything. So stop being paranoid and spend time with your children" You got up from the table "I'm sorry, my queen, but I lost my appetite and I have to continue with my duties"

Neither Alicent nor Larys had any doubt that you were angry but you confirmed it when you left without even giving them both a measly kiss goodbye.

"You have to fix it," Alicent ordered, looking at him furiously. "If we lose her because of you..."

"That's not going to happen," the man interrupted, throwing his napkin at the table angrily. "I'll fix it."

Of course, after that argument, Larys couldn't allow you to get even closer to Harwin so that same afternoon he sent you a message through one of your maids. He asked you not to allow his brother to come to your chambers tonight because he was thinking of coming to see you. In the middle of the night, Larys entered through the secret passage that had your chambers hidden behind one of the paintings. A snort left your mouth when you saw him appear with a small bouquet.

"If you think I'll forgive you because you brought me flowers, you're wrong," you warned him but your anger shouldn't have been so great because you didn't leave his side when he sat next to you on the bed, in the middle were the twins lying awake. Face up they seemed entertained trying to turn around on their own. Larys was relieved that neither of them burst into tears when they saw it.

"I'm not stupid to think that, I know your character.," he said and extended the bouquet to you waiting for you to take it, you looked at it doubting whether to take it or not "It see like someone wanted it more than you" he commented when you saw Alyn stretch out her small hand as if he wanted to touch one of the flowers. "Do you mind sharing?" you shook your head and couldn't help but smile when you saw him remove a flower from the bouquet to give it to Alyn. You hurriedly pulled another flower from the bouquet and gave it to Aethan before he got jealous. "I will get better at this parenting thing. I will come at night and help you take care of them" he wanted to see your reaction but his attention went to Aethan when he saw him put one of the petals in his mouth so he moved the flower away from the baby making him squeal. Not wanting Aethan to start crying, he gave him the flower again but he had to take it away because he put the petal in his mouth again.

"Why does he want to eat it?"

You laughed as you saw the frustration on Larys's face because every time he gave the flower to Aethan he kept wanting to eat it and then squealed when Larys pushed the flower away. But he wasn't a squealer like when he was about to throw a tantrum, it was one of the ones he did when he played with you or your brothers.

Alyn must have also thought his father was making a funny face because he joined in with your laughter.

"I'm sure that at first the color of the flower caught his attention, but now he just thinks that he's playing with you," you reassure him. "Larys, I want actions, not just empty words. I want you to be there for us," you asked, returning to what your lover had said before.

And Larys showed that he was serious. He started coming to your chambers in the middle of the night to help you with the children. You noticed that at first, he seemed to struggle when they cried but after you taught him that skin-to-skin contact helped calm them down and told him that talking to babies helped too, Larys seemed to handle it well, although the first few times you had to stop yourself from laughing at how uncomfortable and lost the man looked because he had no idea what to talk to babies about. You had to tell him to stop thinking about it so much and just talk. Larys didn't make silly voices like Laena, Laenor, or Harwin but Alyn didn't seem to mind because he happily responded to his father with babbling. It didn't take long for Aethan to join in as well because she didn't want to be left out of the "talk."

You will never forget Larys' smile when for the first time he was greeted by Alyn's excited screams as soon as he saw his father enter your chambers. You feel happy with all this development, not only that but Larys also starts to join you during the day, of course not every day, but sometimes he happens once at the nursery with you or they meet by "chance" with you in the gardens and show the twins the flowers together. Even Princess Helaena joins you a couple of times but she soon loses interest in the flowers and entertains herself with the bugs she finds on the ground. At those times Larys and you have to make sure the twins don't try to put any insects in their mouths.

Everything seems to be fine again...Except for Harwin, who feels displaced when you no longer allow him to spend the nights in your chambers and starts seeing you and Larys together during the day. Harwin knows that he should be happy with the fact that you no longer seem to hate him and with the rapprochement that the two of you had during the time that he helped you with the twins. You don't seem angry when you meet him at nursery, nor do you reject him when during the day he insists on spending time with you and the twins. You don't even yell at him when he proposes that Jacaerys join the four of you. He should settle for that but he can't. He just wants to get your love back.

You should not have been surprised when one of your maids came to inform you that your husband was in the princess's chambers. You didn't expect that now that you could stand his presence and have the occasional civil conversation with him, he would magically forget about Rhaenyra. You weren't stupid, you knew he was still seeing her but you hoped he would at least have a little respect for you. You couldn't believe he dared to be in Rhaenyra's chambers while she gave birth. People were already talking about you three but this would only make it worse. You didn't think they could dare to humiliate you any further, at least at the birth of Jacaerys, Harwin hadn't dared to do this.

Fury took over your body. You ignored your maid's calls as you strode out of your chambers.

You felt the blood in your body heat up, noticing that you were getting closer to your destination. You couldn't stop thinking about your hands around Harwin's neck. You wanted to kill him. But you couldn't do it. If you kill your husband you will not go unpunished and you will suffer some punishment, your death, or your exile, and the last thing you want is to leave Alicent and Larys. So you'd have to settle for making a scene.

If Rhaenyra and Harwin wanted attention then you would make a damn spectacle. Tomorrow there wouldn't be a single person who wouldn't talk about you three.

When you finally reached your destination you abruptly opened the doors making as much noise as possible. You entered, leaving the doors open with the intention that anyone who passed by could hear you. You found Rhaenyra lying on her bed with Harwin kneeling next to her and holding her hand.

All eyes were on you, Laenor looking at you with fear, the midwives tensed while the princess and your husband looked at you with pure surprise. For a moment Rhaenyra thought that you would be at her side and accompany her while she gave birth.

“I tried to get him away from her,” Laenor said quickly, from the corner, seeing the fury in your eyes not wanting to be on the receiving end of it. Not when he had struggled to obtain your forgiveness.

You ignored your brother and headed straight for Harwin. One of Rhaenyra's handmaidens thought you would try to hurt the princess so she tried to stop you by standing in front of you. You barely bothered to look at her before pushing her in Laenor's direction. Your brother, as you expected, caught her before she could fall to the floor. The screams of the other maids irritated you even more. You hadn't even put all your strength into the push, of course, they had to be just as dramatic as Rhaenyra.

“What are you doing here?” with every second that Harwin passed in silence you felt your fury grow even more, the worst thing was that he didn't seem to have any intention of separating himself from the princess because he was still holding her hand. “Why does a sworn shield need to be here? “You questioned but again you didn't get any response causing you to lose what little control you had “You can't protect her from the birthing bed, you idiot! You shouldn't be here! Do you understand how humiliating it is for me, for my children, that you are here?!” As you spoke, you raised your voice more and more to the point that you ended up shouting, you were sure that at least your complaint had been heard by anyone who was there. will be found in the hallways. You were sure that from today the court would be sure that Harwin was the father of Rhaenyra's children.

You saw Rhaenyra flinch, you didn't know if it was because of your screams or because she was having a contraction. You didn't care anyway, she did this to herself you thought. If she were smarter she would not have gotten pregnant by your husband again and much less would she have allowed him to accompany her during her birth.

“She needs me,” said Harwin, looking at you with pleading eyes, hoping you would understand, you should, you know Rhaenyra and you know that she is afraid of childbirth after everything her mother suffered.

“Harwin, we're leaving,” you demanded.

Harwin loves you but he loves Rhaenyra too so he couldn't leave her alone right now, not when she knew she was scared and needed him.

“No,” he said painfully, knowing that the little process he had done between the two of you would be forgotten. Now you would get angry but then he would work hard to win you over again.

Your dragon blood or your Baratheon blood had to have taken over your body because suddenly your hands were on your husband's scalp. Years ago you had caressed his curls tenderly but now you found yourself pulling him with all your strength, if he wasn't willing to get out then you were willing to drag him. You would embarrass him in front of the maids and anyone in the hall.

Harwin quickly let go of Rhaenyra's hand to prevent you from ending up dragging her with him. The princess didn't know what to do as she watched in shock as Laenor grabbed you by the waist and tried to pull you away from Harwin, but you didn't give in, your hands seemed to be clinging to him. All Rhaenyra could do was shake her head as one of her handmaidens approached the door ready to call the guards and silence the rest. The last thing she wanted was to get you in trouble.

“Please, sister, let go. Please,” Laenor asked desperately. He feared that at any moment a guard would walk in and you would end up having an audience with the king for disturbing the princess in the middle of her birth and attacking her sworn shield. The worst thing is that he saw you capable in your state of the fury of telling Viserys to rot for pretending not to know what was happening right under his nose, how his grandson was a bastard: "It's not worth getting in trouble for them. Please release him. If the king and queen find out about this…

He stopped talking when he watched you loosen your grip on Harwin carelessly causing his head to hit the floor. Laenor couldn't help but grimace at the noise. He had to have pushed you away instantly because you once again grabbed Harwin by the hair, lifting his head and then slamming it back onto the floor. This time when you let go, Laenor took the opportunity to lift you up and left Rhaenyra's chambers with you on his shoulder while you shouted curses in Valyrian.

They hadn't even reached the end of the hallway when Laenor stopped, a few seconds passed before he put you down. But you understood his reaction when you saw his father standing in front of you. He was looking at you angrily and again you felt like you were a little girl getting into trouble running away from your babysitters. Laenor must have felt your anguish because he took your hand and intertwined your fingers like he used to do when you were children and you were both scolded, not only that but he put his body in front of yours.

"Did you expect me to stand by and do nothing while they humiliated me?" you questioned your father once he finished scolding you and Laenor. During all of Corlys's talk, your brother didn't let go of your hand and you loved him more than ever for it. He could have avoided witnessing this, he could have left you alone but he didn't. Your brother wasn't to blame for your attitude but he was still scolded for not being firm enough to stop you before making a scene. You were sure that if Laenor had excused himself, your father wouldn't have bothered to scold him later.

"You humiliated yourself," he declared. It didn't matter that he had been ranting for what felt like hours he was still angry.

His words were like a slap. Unconsciously you tried to make yourself smaller in your seat as you felt a lump begin to form in your throat. He is your father, he should be on your side, he should be furious with Rhaenyra and Harwin, not you. He should be shouting and defending your honor. But instead, he's yelling at you.

You remained silent without knowing how to respond, feeling small, pathetic, and humiliated under your father's gaze. Not being able to take it anymore you lowered your head looking at your lap. You didn't like feeling like this, you hated it.

You loved your mom. It was a silly and childish thought but if she were here you believed she would take your side. She may not agree with your actions but she would never make you feel this way.

"Tomorrow the whole court will be talking about how you lost your mind, entering the princess's rooms and beating your husband," your father said making you feel worse. You had wanted to make a scene to get people talking but you thought it would be to your benefit, you thought the court would side with the poor faithful wife but maybe your father was right, maybe in the end you would be the one who would end up badly. Perhaps Rhaenyra and Harwin would not be the ones to make the Velaryons the laughingstock of the court but you. The pain in your throat worsened at that thought. "What if this reaches the king's ears?"

"That will not happen, Father," you were surprised by the firmness in your brother's voice. "Despite the distance between my sister and Rhaenyra. The princess still has great esteem for her and does not want to get her into trouble with the king. If Viserys decided to act and punish my sister that would only encourage people to talk more about the true paternity of Rhaenyra's children" he said as he gave your hand a squeeze hoping to get you out of whatever was scheming in your head knowing that it wouldn't. It must have been nothing good."Besides, I doubt people will think my sister is crazy. "The court will side with her after all it is normal to see a woman hurt by her husband's cheating."

"A maester had to see Harwin," Corlys reminded them with a frown.

"An accident. One of the maids dropped hot water and the idiot slipped and hit his head. It's his fault for being in the delivery bed when he shouldn't be" You couldn't help but laugh at the easy lie your brother made up. You wouldn't be surprised if there were people who believed her. Laenor turned to look at you with a smile, feeling satisfied to see that you were settling back down normally in your chair instead of trying to hide. "The only thing my sister did was go yell at her stupid husband for daring to snub her like that."

Before Corlys could say what he thought about it there was a knock on the door. After your father gave permission to enter a maid reported that Rhaenyra had given birth to a second son named Lucerys and that the three of you could now go and meet him.

"Come on Laenor, we have to meet the future lord of Driftmark," the Lord said once the maid left.

The fury you felt when you heard those words made you forget any feeling of smallness that your father caused you. You could allow your father many things but not this. You weren't going to stay silent while he took away your son's birthright and gave it to Rhaenyra's bastard. You knew that your father was an ambitious man and wanted to go down in history—that's why he had pushed you to spend time with Viserys as soon as Queen Aemma died and when you didn't become queen he made Laenor marry Rhaenyra even though he knew his preferences—but you never thought he would be able to deliver the legacy of your ancestors as if nothing had happened. It was insulting. This was outrageous.

When you least expected it, your father always found a new way to disappoint you.

"You can't be serious," you said, standing up abruptly from your chair while resting your hands on the desk.

"Please don't start again," your father said as if he was treating you like a tantrum child making your fury only grow even more. You could feel your blood heat up.

"He can't be Driftmark's heir," you said, emphasizing each word to get it into his head.

"He is the son of Laenor. It is his birthright"

"He is my son in name only," Laenor reminded him. He loved Jacaerys and was sure he would soon love Lucerys too, but he still knew he couldn't give any of them Driftmark. It would be an insult to Laena, to you, to his uncles and cousins.

“And why is that?” Corlys accused him. He didn't need to say any more words, the three of them knew that he blamed the lack of legitimate children on Laenor's preferences. You would think that after years your father would have accepted it by now.

“Driftmark belongs to Aethan,” you said, watching as Laenor clenched her hands into fists clearly frustrated, putting her attention back on you “He was born before Lucerys, it is his birthright” You tried hard not to raise your voice thinking that if You looked calm and confident. Your father could listen to you for once.

“You know perfectly well that the line of succession follows the lineage of Laenor.”

“That's the point,” you exclaimed. “Lucerys has no Velaryon blood and no offense to Laenor, but we all know you will never have descendants. "You turned when you saw your brother but he didn't look offended by your words so you turned your attention to your father "If Laenor doesn't have children then the line that follows is Laena's but she still doesn't have children so until that happens follow my line. Alyn was born first so he will have Harrenhall but Driftmark belongs to Aethan.”

“Lucerys will inherit Driftmark after Laenor,” your father stated as if he hadn't heard anything you said.

“He doesn't have Velaryon blood!” you argued, losing your patience, a part of you wanted to throw yourself at the desk and beat your father to the point of exhaustion. Maybe this way he would come to his senses.

“History does not remember blood, it remembers names”

Again he was looking at you like you were a little girl, like you were stupid and couldn't understand what she was talking about. But you understood, he was always going to care more about his ambition than his family. This time you did not hide from his gaze but instead took refuge in your fury.

Nightwing shouted angrily from the Dragon's Pit.

Slapped.

Your father looked at you in shock. You didn't feel guilt or regret, in fact, you felt satisfaction. You hoped the mark of your hand would remain on his face. You weren't going to apologize, he deserved it for choosing Rhaenyra and his bastard over you and your son, his own blood.

Laenor was the first to react, taking your arm and pulling you back and then standing in front of you, ready to protect you in case his father tried to do something to you. But you weren't afraid. Your father had never hit you before and you didn't think he would start doing it now, not when you were already a grown woman, not when you could still hear the furious screams of your dragon, not when you both knew that if he dared to touch you your mother wouldn't hesitate to feed him to Meleys

“Get her out of here,” Corlys ordered, regaining his patriarchal composure.

You broke free from your brother's grip. You didn't need an escort. You could go alone but you had one last thing to say. You expected this to torment him.

“You will be the one to ruin our name, you will make us a laughing stock if you leave that child as heir.”

Of course, your fury can't last forever. That's why when Larys entered through the secret passageway that your room had, he found you curled up in bed.

"Are you angry?" You turn your back on him as you feel him lift the sheets to get into the bed next to you.

Your voice was weak and unsure like you were afraid to know his answer. And Larys didn't like it.

"Just for not being able to see how you hit my brother" he replied and you wanted to laugh but it came out more like a sob making the look in Larys' eyes soften. If it was someone else they would find it annoying or feel uncomfortable but you are the exception. He just wanted to make your pain go away. "What happened?" he asked, ready to listen to you complain about Harwin and Rhaenyra.

"My father wants Lucerys Velaryon to be heir to Driftmark instead of Aethan" You turned around and dared to sneak into your lover's chest now that you knew he wasn't upset with you.

You took Larys by surprise because he didn't expect that to be the reason for your discomfort.

"That's not going to happen," he assured you as he gave you comforting strokes on your back. "Not many children make it to the age of two. Even if they do, they can always have an accident during their childhood. And if that doesn't happen, then we'll take care of Lucerys."

You should be horrified by what Larys just said and its implications. You should be scared at how calm he seems at the idea of murdering his own nephew but instead, you feel more in love with him. It's twisted but his words gave you comfort, knowing that you weren't alone in this, that you had someone on your side who was willing to do something so heinous just for you and so that your child would have his birthright. You and Larys must be crazy thinking about the death of a newlyborn baby. You're probably not as good a person as you thought and you don't know how to feel about it. You send a silent prayer to the gods and apologize for your thoughts because that's what a good person would do. You convince yourself that your fury is still poisoning your head and that's why you think of Lucerys dead. Your usual self would never think of that. How would you wish for the death of an innocent baby?

"We won't do anything," you say but both you and Larys can notice the lack of determination in your decision. But he's smart enough not to highlight it, it would only worsen your mood. "It's not Lucerys' fault that my father chose Rhaenyra over me," your voice breaks at the end and it seems like you're about to cry again.

"He didn't choose her, he chose the power he thinks she possesses," he said in an attempt to make you feel better.

"I'm sorry that your father disappointed you," he gently wiped your tears with his thumb. "But you don't need it. You have your siblings, and your mother and you have me. I'm always on your side."

At his last statement, you felt your heart warm up along with a sudden huge need to kiss him. So you obeyed your desire and leaned towards him and then captured his lips. You kissed him again and again, you tasted his lips as if it were the most exquisite wine you had ever tasted, but the thirst you felt for him did not seem to disappear.

"Be good and make me forget about today" you asked with heavy breathing.

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[finelinevogue]

pancakes for two

summary - seeing your niece for the first time

word count - ~1k

pairing - husband!harry x reader

You made pancakes for breakfast on a Saturday.

It was a routine at this point and would be rude not to have pancakes after your morning jog with Harry.

Harry tended to make himself banana pancakes, because he hated not having some fruit in there somehow, but you were all for the nutella and other loaded toppings.

You had both just finished your pancakes, dirty plates on the coffee table in front of you and cups of tea to hand as you watched ‘This Morning’ on ITV.

Even after having been on a run and eaten pancakes, your day was about to get so much better.

“Remind me that I need to pick up more loo roll the next time I go to the shops.” You said to Harry.

“Thought we bought loads?”

His free hand rested on your ankle from where your legs were stretched out on his lap.

“Yeah, but we gave a lot to Gem remember?”

“Oh shit, yes. We can go later if you want? I’ll take you?” He offered.

“The last thing I want to do is leave the house on the one day where you’re not busy preparing for baby number 4.” You laughed, taking a sip of your Yorkshire Gold tea.

“Baby number 4?” It was Harry’s turn to chuckle.

“Album? Baby? Same thing. They’re all your children.”

He tapped your ankle playfully.

Harry had been working so hard on planning for the next phase of his career and you were so happy to see him get excited and creative again.

Music is where he thrived and it was a joy to watch him work. However it did mean he was gone more than you wanted him to be, so quiet weekends like this were absolutely necessary.

Harry missed you just as much and he was constantly lucky that it was you waiting for him at home.

He’d been working so hard that he hadn’t even had a moment to see his sister since she gave birth.

It was only a week ago, but Gemma was still recovering and requested that the three of them just had some quiet time to let the new reality to settle in.

Now, Harry was restless to see his niece.

You scrolled through your phone when it suddenly made a Ring doorbell noise.

“Yes! I bet that’s my Waterstones parcel.” You said excitedly, sitting up and setting your tea on the coffee table.

“Another one?”

You hit Harry’s thigh playfully, “Shut up!” Although he did have a valid point.

You waited for the doorbell to ring, before jumping up and making your way to the front. You made a note to shout at Harry for - yet again - leaving his coat on the banister and not put back on coat rack.

You unlocked and opened the door, expecting the delivery guy but were met with Gemma, Michal and baby instead.

“Oh my God!” You shouted, cupping your hands over your mouth in shock.

“Surprise!” Gemma laughed, baby carrier on Michal’s arm and baby bags too.

You started tearing up then, emotional over how beautiful Gemma was after recently giving birth. She was glowing and looked incredible. They both looked so happy too.

“Y/N/N?” Harry called your nickname.

He rounded the corner only to stop short.

“Look who showed up.” You allowed the tears to drop down your face.

“Hey, bro.” Gemma smiled.

“Hi, H!” Michal smiled at Gemma’s smile.

Harry, ever the emotional man, broke down in little sobs then. He pouted when he cried and probably had the same thoughts as you initially did.

“Come in. Come on.” You ushered them in.

You gave Gemma a big hug first, squeezing her but not too tight, and kissed her cheeks.

Then you hugged Michal, careful to avoid all his extra baggage.

“How are you?” You asked Michal, as Gemma went over to speak and probably console Harry.

“Tired, but never been happier.” He genuinely smiled.

“Can I take anything from you?”

“No, I’m just going to dump them here if that’s okay?” He motioned to the space in the hall.

“Of course, go ahead.”

“You want a tea? Coffee?” You offered.

“Coffee, please. No sugar. Gem will probably just have water.”

You nodded and walked through the hallway and into the kitchen. Gemma and Harry were still hugging, softly talking to one another. You left them to it, not wanting to disrupt the siblings reunion.

You wiped your own tears with your sweater, before pottering around the kitchen.

“So let me see my niece then!” You demanded as Michal placed the carrier on the kitchen island.

He opened the visor and you had to choke back a sob as you saw how small your new niece was - your new best friend.

“Oh my God.” You whispered.

“I know. I keep having the same reaction, even now.” Michal chuckled.

Gemma and Harry walked in a few seconds later - Harry with red eyes and Gemma smiling like a madwoman.

You leaned forwards and brushed your finger over your nieces tiny bunched fist. Her skin was so soft and she didn’t budge at all with the tap from you.

“She’s beautiful, guys.” You whispered.

“She really is.” Gemma agreed.

“She’s a Styles if I ever saw one. No offence Michal.”

“None taken.” Michal genuinely didn’t seem offended.

You stepped back to let Harry have a gaze over his new niece, wrapped in her blankets and knitted bonnets. There were so many blankets you wondered whether she was cooking underneath them all!

It wasn’t your turn to know anything about kids or parenting though, yet, so you weren’t going to question anything.

Harry approached his niece and softly caressed over her small hand and over her quite chubby cheeks.

You cupped a hand over your mouth as you teared up from watching Harry interact with a baby.

“It’s too much!” You cried, laughing like an idiot.

Gemma and Michal watched you with soft expressions.

Harry moved towards you then, “Hey. What’s up?” He asked, pulling you in for a big hug. The best hugs.

“I think i’ve got a heavy case of baby fever right now.”

Harry pulled you away a bit to read your face, “You do?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay.” He smiled.

“Okay, what?” You stepped back.

“Let’s try. For a baby, I mean.”

“Really?” You eyes filled with tears. “You mean it?”

“A baby with you? It would make all those birthday and shooting star wishes come true.”

[sweetbans29]

Warming Up - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Hesitation

Summary: Part 2 to the Hesitation series...you're welcome. You finally let Caitlin take you out on that date but it just so happens to be in New York...

Warnings: Caitlin being cute with Carson, Caitlin being in love with you - all the norms

Word Count: 3k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I have heard the demand and I am offering you a MINI series. With that being said, it will be 3 parts with several blurbs attached. Also i'm using current events but in the future.

"I still don't know about this," you say as you board the small charter plane. The slow you wanted seemed to be moving very fast as the first date that Caitlin asked you out on was a trip to New York.

To be fair, you had hesitated a lot when she asked you initially. That is how Caitlin knew if she did all the right things, you and Carson would be joining her on this trip. If you had shut it down hard, she wouldn't have pushed as hard as she had.

"Too late Mommy!" Carson yells as he runs into the plan and takes the first seat he sees. It swallows him up and you can't help but smile.

You have taken Carson on several trips before, a luxury you grew up with and wanted to make sure Carson was also able to experience. But traveling in a private charter was something you would have never expected to be able to do.

"You don't have to know about this, I got it," Caitlin says as she places her hand on your lower back to guide you to the seat behind Carson. You watch as one of the attendants swivels Carson's chair to face you. You smile when you see how Carson's face lit up when he realized he would be sitting backwards.

Caitlin can see how your body eases when you see Carson's excitement. She wants to reach over and hold your hand but decides against it. She has been wanting to touch you since that night on your porch.

The trip to New York wasn't all for fun, Caitlin knew she had some business to take care of but knew that it would be 100x better than if she were doing it alone. When Caitlin found out that she was asked to make an appearance at the Yankee's double header is what sparked her to ask you and Carson to join. It helped when she had learned that Carson was a Yankee's fan and you had a hard time saying no to Carson.

The plane ride is short and the three of you color and play games. When you land in New York, you all head to the hotel. Caitlin made sure that there was a second room for you and Carson, right next to hers of course. Even went to the extent of making sure there was a door connecting the rooms, not that Caitlin was expecting anything to happen.

You and Carson part ways with Caitlin and head into your room. You put all your stuff down and watch as Carson runs to the curtains to see the view. You sit on the bed and Cason runs up to you.

"This is the best trip we have ever been on," Carson says.

"Ya? Better than going to California last summer?" You ask reminding him of the beaches he begged to go back to for weeks after getting back from the trip.

"Ya!" He says with pure excitement.

"Hey Carson," you say as you bring him to sit on the bed with you. "I need you to tell me something okay?"

He settles down and looks at you.

"Are you okay if Caitlin starts coming around more often?" You ask Carson.

"More Clarky?" Carson asks thinking about it for a second.

"Ya, what do you think about that?" You ask.

"I like Clarky!" He says with a smile. "More Clarky."

"I like Clarky too," you say and hug your little boy.

"Does that mean we can go on more adventures with Clarky?" Carson asks.

"It's a possibility," you say and fix his hair.

He nods and runs to the connecting door giving it a small knock. After a few moments, the door opens and Carson is met by Caitlin.

"Hey Little Man!" She says. Carson immediately hugs her legs.

"More Clarky!" He says and Caitlin laughs.

"Are you guys hungry? I was thinking we could go out to do some exploring," Caitlin says and Carson yells 'yes' while Caitlin looks up at you and you give her a smiling nod.

The three of you go out and find a small little local spot to eat. The time is sweet and fun. Caitlin spoils Carson to treats which earns a scold from you but she doesn't care, she thinks it's almost cuter than Carson. The night ends with Carson falling asleep on the ride back. You carry him up to your room and Caitlin asks if you wanted to come to hers to hang out.

"I don't know," you say standing in the doorframe between her room and yours.

"What is the worst that could happen?" Caitlin asks with a little smile.

"Well I can think of a few things," you say.

"What if I promise to stay on my side of the bed," she asks and you ponder the idea.

"Okay, I will come in if you stay on your side of the bed," you say as you follow her in. She does as she says and sits on one side of the bed. You sit on the other side.

"So how would you feel about me taking you out tomorrow after the game?" Caitlin asks.

"What about Carson?" You ask.

"I have a sitter lined up and it is one that I know is trusted," she says.

You sit there and think about it. Caitlin doesn't rush you.

"Okay," you say not caring to elaborate more.

"Okay?" She asks trying to calm her excitement.

"Okay," you say again. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well it's a surprise," she says with a smug smile.

You raise your eyebrow at her.

"You are just going to have to wait and see," she says proud of herself.

You nod respecting her decision to not tell you. You don't push it but have another idea in mind. As the two of you continue to talk, you slowly slide closer to her.

Slowly leaning in, you stop right before your lips connect with hers. She leans in trying to meet you but your hand on her chest holds her in place.

"Nuh-uh," you say. "What do you have planned for our date?" Your eyes are on her lips as you speak causing Caitlin's breath to shallow.

"I told you, it's a surprise," she says with a gulp, her eyes also looking down at your lips.

"Just tell me a little," you says as you place a soft kiss on her jawline, then another one on the top of her neck. She moans at the feeling of your lips on her skin.

Caitlin is lost in the feeling of you and doesn't respond. One of her hands finds your waist while the other settles on your arm.

"Tell me Cait," you whisper into her ear as you gently suck on her earlobe. She lets out a whimper and tries to get any sort of coherent thought out.

"Dinner," she says. Her eyes closed as all her other senses heighten at your touch. You drive her wild.

"Just dinner?" You ask sweetly as you move over her and straddle her. Both of her hands have been dying to feel the skin under your shirt again, she takes no time moving them there. Your bring your hands so her wrists as you guide her hands up and down your torso.

"Gonna spoil you," she gets out. Your lips are putting in work on her neck. Occasionally drifting down to her collar bone and sucking a little harder. "Get you anything you want."

You smile against her skin. Your lips still haven't touched hers yet and if you had it your way, they wouldn't.

You slowly crawl down her, leaving a trail of kisses over her shirt but all down her body until you are at the edge of the bed. You stand and make your way to the connecting door before looking back at her. Her hungry eyes, dilated pupils and breaths uneven.

You had played her. Teased the answer right out of her and she just let you.

"You are going to be the death of me," she says as she moves to get up and follow you but you put your hand up.

"Not my fault you are so easily swayed," you say and Caitlin completely ignores your hand. She makes her way to you, her hands coming to cup your face.

She looks into your eyes and the shine with something more than just lust. Before you can say anything she is crashing her lips into yours earning a moan from you which only wants her to keep you there longer.

After giving in to Caitlin, you finally push her away. Both of you needing the air being sucking into your lungs.

"I need to change up our date now," she says, her hand cupping your face still.

"You don't," you say. "I like what you have planned."

"Nope, you know now so I have to make it even better," she says. She leans down to give you a quick little peck then separates herself from you. She knows if she were to do anything more, you wouldn't be heading back to your room.

"Whatever you say," you say with a smile. "Goodnight Caitlin."

"Goodnight," she says to you before you close the door.

The next day is a busy one but none of you would have it any other way. You are currently at the Yankee's game where Caitlin's team has set up her to be on the field and meet some of the team. She made sure the arrangements included you and Carson.

When you first got there, you were all greeted and handed badges. Carson's hung low which Caitlin helped fix, warming your heart. The three of you headed to the field and Caitlin was greeted with fans. She signed some autographs while Carson was greeted by some of the players who were finishing their warm up. It was really sweet to watch.

Caitlin comes back over to the two of you and hands Carson a baseball. You stand and watch as the two of them play catch. As you do, you can't help but think about the 'what if's'. You think about how this could be a normal for the three of you. Not necessarily going to baseball games but watching Caitlin and Carson playing catch.

"Mommy! Watch this," Carson yells as he sets up to throw the ball to Caitlin. He throws it perfectly to Caitlin and turns to see your reaction with a wide smile on his face.

"That was great baby," you say with a smile.

The three of you head to your seats after spending some time on the field.

"Mommy, I'm hungry," Carson says while he adjusts himself in his seat.

"Okay sweetie, let's go check out the concession stand," you say.

"Can I take him?" Caitlin asks.

"Clarky!" Carson yells with excitement.

"Are you sure?" You ask, hesitant letting them go without you.

"I wanna go with Clarky," Carson says already out of his seat and holding Caitlin's hand.

"I got him," she says. She can see your hesitation. "But if you would like to join, you are always welcome."

"No, you two can go. Just bring me back some nachos," you say and look at Carson.

"You do not leave Caitlin's side okay?" You tell Carson and he nods. He begins pulling Cait from their seats and up the stairs. It makes you more comfortable when you see Caitlin's security follow them.

You sit and wait for them to come back, when they do - Carson is holding a hot dog while Caitlin looks to have 5 things in hers. She has two drinks, two hot dogs and your nachos.

"What did you guys clean them out?" You joke at them and Carson says no with a laugh.

The three of you snack and watch the game, Carson having the time of his life. When the game is over, the three of you decide to grab some ice cream and then head back to the hotel. When you get back, you are surprised with who is already in her room.

"Hi mom," Caitlin says as she goes to hug her.

"Hi baby, it's good to see you," she says.

Caitlin turns to you and introduces you to her mom.

"Hi there," you say with a smile and she pulls you in for a hug.

"Oh it is so good to meet you," she says giving you a nice squeeze.

"You as well," Anne says. "I have been looking forward to meeting you for weeks."

You turn to look at Caitlin because you only confirmed a week ago that you and Carson would be joining her on this trip. Cait just smiles and shrugs.

"And you must be Carson," Anne says as she crouches down to shake his hand. He is hiding behind your legs but reaches out his hand to shake hers.

"Carson," you begin but Anne waves to you signaling it is okay. She turns to look at Carson.

"I am Caitlin's mom," Anne says and Carson peaks his head out.

"Clarky's mom?" He says softly. Anne nods and smiles.

"You want to know what Caitlin loved when she was your age?" Anne asks and Carson nods. "Chocolate chip cookies."

Carson's eyes light up," I love chocolate chip cookies!" He is now fully out from behind you and is following Anne to the half kitchen in Caitlin's room.

Caitlin nods over to your room and you follow her over. Once the two of you are alone, you turn to her.

"Weeks?" You ask her. She shrugs like she did the first time you looked at her on the matter.

"I've been planning this for longer than you know," she says.

"You're unbelievable," you say. "And your mother??? It would have been nice to know. I didn't now we were in the meet the parents stage."

"She has been asking to meet you ever since she saw pictures of me bringing Carson on the floor," Caitlin says.

You shake your head.

"It isn't a big deal," she says. But in your mind it is.

"But it is," you say. "Going on trips, meeting parents - this all seems really fast."

Caitlin can see how stressed this has made you. She kneels down in front of where you were now sitting on your bed and brings your hands into hers.

"I'm sorry," she says and you sigh. "I told you that we will take this slow and I know these last few weeks have been fast. But I have no intention of going anywhere. This weekend is suppose to be fun and I believe it still can be. I asked my mom to come out because I know knew you wouldn't want to leave Carson with just anyone so I brought out the best. I wouldn't have brought her out if I wasn't serious about you. Us."

You look into Caitlin's eyes and can see the sincerity. You lean your forehead on hers, eyes closed.

"You are unbelievable," you say for the second time but in a completely different tone causing Caitlin to smile.

"You should get ready, we need to be out of here in 20," Caitlin says as she parts from you.

You get ready and tell Anne everything she needs to know about putting Carson down. She repeats everything back to you perfectly and Carson is too entertained by the chocolate chips to be phased by you leaving. You kiss his head and he waves.

Once Caitlin has you out the door, she can't stop smiling.

"What?" You say with a smile of your own.

"Just excited to have you all to myself," she says.

First Caitlin takes you to a cute little Italian restaurant where the two of you talked over dinner. Dinner is followed by an evening walk through the park. You expect the night to be done but she has one more place she is taking you before back to where you are staying.

You yawn trying to not get too sleepy.

"We are almost there," Caitlin says as the car pulls up to the final stop.

You both exit and you look up. Caitlin stands next to you holding your hand and looks at you.

"Of course," you say.

Caitlin smiles.

"This is nice but I don't think it is open," you say and Caitlin leads you to the door.

Right as you approach the door, it opens and you are greeted by an older man.

"Ms. Clark and company, welcome to the Empire State Building," the man says. Your excitement is now visible on your face as the man leads you over to the elevator.

The three of you head up. Once reaching the 82nd floor, you were ready to make your way out but the doors just open and close and you continue up to the 102nd floor.

You step out and are in awe. Caitlin watches you as you step out and take in the sight before you. You aren't huge on big cities but seeing New York from this vantage point had anyone falling in love with it.

Caitlin lets you look around before coming behind you and wrapping her arms around you.

"I don't know how you are going to top this when we get back to Indy," you say as your hands come to rest on her arms.

"Does that mean there will be a second date," she teases.

"Only if you want," you respond, too in awe of the sight still to care about Caitlin's sass.

"It's the only thing I want," she says softly in your ear. You smile.

"I'm sorry for going at you earlier. You didn't deserve that," you say.

"No no no, don't apologize," she says.

You lean back into Caitlin, loving the feeling of being held by her. You turn to face her.

"i think I like you," you say smiling.

"Ya?" Caitlin says softly, bringing her hand to come up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

You nod and lean in to kiss her.

AN: You series is here. Let me know what you think about this second part! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[delfiore]

—MONTAUK.

pairing: alexia putellas x reader

synopsis: you remember how it used to be whilst dealing with how it is now.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: alexia baby come home the kids miss you 🥲 this was the clairo - bags fic i promised months ago but now the premise feels completely different and i've changed the title also lol. a lot happens to one's state of mind in 3 months.

After.

Under normal circumstances—as much as normal was nowadays—the silence in the apartment would feel like a blanket of comfort. It meant you were having a rest from your hectic days training and playing matches, it meant you could finally relax with the love of your life; it meant peace.

Now, the silence was deadly. It was sucking up the life in every room in this apartment, and it was draining the life out of you too.

The door clicked, and you shifted in your spot on the couch, quickly shutting off your phone on which you had bullet points typed out in the Notes app—bullet points of things you wanted—needed—to say, to lessen this inevitable pain. You cracked a smile when you heard tiny feet pattering on the floor, just as the little Pomeranian came to greet you with loving licks.

Nala was oblivious to the cracks that had been forming in her home, that have been left unamended for too long with the thinking that they would go away with time. You dreaded thinking of the day when the little pup came home from a walk and you weren’t there anymore. Would she miss you? How long until she starts to forget you?

“I got us dinner.”

“Cool,” you said, breathing in deeply. “You wanna eat now, or . . . ?”

“Sure.”

You helped her unpack the food without another word, the only sound heard was the clanking of plates as you pulled them out of the cupboard and set them on the kitchen island.

Alexia didn’t say anything either, just gingerly put the food on the plates. You felt her stiffen slightly as you walked towards her and placed a soft kiss on her shoulder.

She offered you a small smile—a forced smile—and brought the food to the table.

You cursed yourself and wished you hadn’t done it.

Before.

“And that concludes the tour of our facilities. Any questions?”

“No, I’m good.” You were way too excited to think about anything else other than the Barcelona crest on your chest.

“Great. Then, how about we go meet your future teammates? Some of them should be in the weight room.”

Patri greeted you initially, first in Spanish, then in English once she realized you weren’t catching on. Jana and Salma followed suit with friendly handshakes and quick hugs. It left the captain to be the last. And there she was; la Reina herself.

You were surprised to find that she was rubbing her hands together, waiting for her turn, almost like she was nervous. As you came to know her, you understood that she was in fact nervous when meeting new people, a polar opposite to the confident leader she was on the pitch.

But you saw the way her hazel eyes fixed on you, and as you approached her, a lingering smile played on her lips. Your heart suddenly leaped in your chest, and your cheeks felt embarrassingly warm, which you hoped she didn’t see.

You had admired her from afar, looking up to her as a role model in the game, but now that you were seeing her up close, something stirred inside you. There was something so endearing about Alexia’s shyness where you had expected assertiveness. It made her feel more down-to-earth, more like your teammate rather than a mythical figure up on a pedestal. One look at her and you understood why people had talked so highly of her—how could they not?

Extending a hand towards her, you had made your greeting, but she pulled you in for a firm and generous hug.

And that’s how they started—the butterflies, the attraction, the yearning—and they never went away.

After.

You decided that you were going to do it after dinner. Doing it during dinner is just tacky and downright disrespectful. You’d hate to be crying into your takeout after telling your girlfriend you wanted to break up.

When you snapped out of your train of thought, you realized that it was way too quiet. Alexia was eating on the other side of the table, scrolling through her phone as she did.

“Did you see Claudia’s banger of a free kick today?” You asked, smiling slightly.

Alexia looked up briefly from her phone. “Si. Really good.”

A curt answer. You nodded, and silence ensued again.

You didn’t talk to Alexia much these days. You used to be able to talk to her about anything, even in the beginning when the both of you were still testing the waters to see where you stood. When did it become like this?

Before.

Practice was going swimmingly. You found yourself catching on quickly with the rest of your teammates. Alexia has made it her mission as captain to make you feel welcome. “Anything you need, ask me,” she would say in English. You wanted to, but every time you thought about talking to her, your hands would sweat and you needed to practice what you were going to say to her. You weren’t scared that she wasn’t going to understand you, but because you knew you’d make a fool out of yourself tripping over your words.

“Hey, Alexia,” you said after practice, “I don’t know the city that well, and—well—since you do, would you be willing to show me around?”

“Si, claro.” She answered and looked around the field. “Maybe I can ask some of the girls to come with? They might know things to do that I don’t.”

Later she would explain to you that she panicked and that she knew she would be weird about it, thinking it was a date when it really was just a little outing between teammates. You wished she had treated it like a date, though, and was slightly disappointed when she mentioned bringing your teammates. Still, you had a great time watching Mapi banter with Lucy and Mariona while Alexia played the role of the disappointing mom trying to restrain her children.

You were grinning thinking back on the day when you came home. Her bashful smile after she offered to drive you home was so unlike anything you had pictured in your head before coming to Barcelona. You loved her calm nature, something that made her such a reliable captain, but also an endearing human being.

After.

You stayed seated by the dinner table and you watched her load the dishes in the washer. The scene was void of music that she would sway her hips to or a hearty conversation about a random fact she learned from one of your teammates. Now it was just robotic, lifeless movements, and your heart squeezed at the thought of what it used to be.

The end is near.

Somewhere, somehow, you gathered the courage to speak up. “Wanna watch a movie?”

And to your surprise, she turned around and said, “Sure.”

For a second, you let yourself hope that there was still something salvageable from this ruin. Then you realized that you had been here many times before, and everything accumulated and led you here to this moment.

Before.

“Really?! You’ve never seen Mean Girls?”

Alexia shook her head and chuckled. “I didn’t watch a lot of movies, Y/N. Growing up, all I had time for was football.”

“Yeah, but . . . I mean, it’s Mean Girls. That’s just a crime,” you clicked your tongue. “We’ll have to catch you up on all the classics.”

The discussion had been prompted by the imminent movie night at one of your teammates’ places. The movie of choice was Mamma Mia!, and you had been most excited to rewatch it. You and Alexia arrived together after an outing in town, and since you did so late, you both were in charge of stocking up the snacks.

“And by that, I hope you mean . . . you and me,” Alexia stuttered, leaning against the kitchen counter, waiting for you to fill your bowl with popcorn.

Your lips curved up. “Yes, I mean me and you. Just me and you.”

Your captain grinned too, like a devious little kid. “Good. Just making sure.”

“¿Qué diablos está tardando tanto? (What the hell is taking so long?)” Patri called from the living room. “¡Más te vale no estar besándote en mi cocina! (You better not be making out in my kitchen!)”

You let out a surprised laugh, as Alexia cursed under her breath, wishing silently that the girls in the living room would just shut up and stop snickering. Once the bowls in your hands were filled to the brim, you turned to her with a knowing look.

“I wouldn’t have minded, you know.”

“Mind what?”

“If we were making out,” you said before leaving Alexia in the kitchen to soak in your words.

She found a seat next to you after taking a minute to calm her racing heart so that you wouldn’t notice how crazy you drove her. She felt like a teenage girl having a silly crush, but there was nothing silly about the way you looked at her. And when you put your head on her shoulder midway through the movie, she knew she was gone. Patri saw it too across the couch apparently, and her knowing grin made Alexia want to bury herself inside a hole. While she wasn’t particularly into romcoms, she was already looking forward to watching Mean Girls with you, her fleeting heart hammering in its cage at the thought of getting you alone again.

After.

The silence was deafening. You didn’t dare to look over to Alexia to gauge her reaction. The screen continued to play the movie, blissfully unaware of an earthquake that had suddenly roared to life in the space on the couch between you and Alexia.

You swallowed. She hasn’t spoken for hours.

Then, she turned to you and said, “Okay.”

Okay.

You drew a sharp breath and nodded with finality. “Okay.”

The movie was still playing, though. It was one of your favorites, but it made you cry every time you watched it because you were so touched by the story and its main characters. It was about a man—grief-stricken with the loss of his relationship—who decides to get his memories of his girlfriend wiped, but during the process, he relives everything he shared with her and slowly rues his decision. You used to enjoy it because their story was fictional, but now it all felt like one big joke, like you were one of the characters in the movie, inching towards a certain endgame that you couldn’t escape.

You wondered if there were a different script written out for you and Alexia.

“Let’s finish the movie though, yeah?” She said, finally looking over to you.

You hadn’t expected that look on her face when you looked back at her—it was something almost like desperation.

Like it meant something to her.

You nodded. It was the least you could do after dumping her. What kindness, after the neglect she had shown you, what kindness.

Before.

Alexia was shaking when she brought the two glasses of wine out to her living room, where you sat. Nala, the ever-excited little puppy that she was, followed her like a personal little cloud.

“I heard it was going to be a sad movie, so wine it is.” She said, handing you your glasses.

“It’s a cult classic, trust me. It’s one of my favorite movies ever.”

“Well, I liked Mean Girls, so I trust you.” The truth was, she would have watched any movie with you, as long as it was with you.

You were right, it was quite sad. When she looked over midway through the movie, she could see a glossy streak running down your face. You laughed it off and wiped your tears away, embarrassed that you had cried in front of her, but Alexia thought you were the prettiest.

With feather-light touches, she reached over and brushed the tip of her fingers over your cheekbone. She knew there was no going back if she went ahead with this. She wondered if there was a script written out for you and her already, and she was just following it on its path.

Her lips brushed against yours softly, and only once she felt that you started to kiss her back was she brave enough to put her hand around your waist and pull you closer.

You were grinning so wide when she pulled away, that she thought it might have been a prank and you were somehow in on it. But you put your arms around her neck and pecked her lips again.

Whatever script it was, Alexia was sure it would be one of fairy tale endings and happily ever after, because that is what you believe when you’re in love.

a/n: the movie is eternal sunshine of the spotless mind btw. made me ugly cry.

[dottiro]

Botany Knowledge

Unreliable summary: Can you make a gamble to make Childe leave the house so you can escape his grasp once and for all? // Can you manipulate a manipulator? Warnings: Yandere, dub consent to marriage, implied kidnapping, toxic behaviour (both reader and Childe are manipulative), GN reader Note: I'm currently sick, so the quality might be lesser than the ones before and after. Again, this is a REWRITE of this fic on my old blog.

Childe loves the thrill of a battle. Capturing your heart was a game to him. The more you fought against your tormentor, the more excited he grew. Even when you’ve submitted after accepting you won’t be able to win with brute force, he lurks and awaits your tactical reprisal. Childe stalks your actions, sniffing out fear like you are prey.

Right now, his chin leans on your shoulder and his breath lingers on your neck. You feel his arms snake around you—trapping you with his body warmth. His quick heartbeat melts against yours. It makes the hairs on your neck stand upright. 

In your arms, you hold a book. On the page is a picture of a pink flower foreign to Snezhnaya. Your finger caresses it with a victorious feeling. 

“I want these,” you declare.

He’s silent as he processes your sudden words. “What…?”

“I want these sakura flowers.”

Childe’s hand sneaks up from your hip to the book, tracing the picture as you had done before. In his mind, something clicks.

During the first two weeks after arriving in Snezhnaya, you had done nothing but yell at Childe. He had expected a harsh treatment, but you went beyond your limits. Come dusk, your voice would be gone from all the harsh insults you’ve thrown, only for it to start again when dawn arrived. Neither did you want to eat. It had begun to affect you for the worse, and for the first time, Childe began to doubt his choices. 

In the following weeks, he allowed you more privacy as a way of letting you warm up to the cold country. To his relief, you began to eat the meals he provided—although always cautious; as if he was going to harm you with it. 

Then, once you turned more daring and left your room to roam the house—he returned. 

Childe had learnt a lot about you in those first three months. 

For one, he learnt that you’re more complacent when you have something rewarding to look forward to; more inclined to accept his affections when he’s giving and not only taking. Your good behaviour has been paid off with little glimpses of freedom. 

The book in your hands is one of such testaments to your ability to endure him. After all, you never learnt the Snezhnayan language. This botany book filled with pictures might be your only entertainment—a ‘welcoming gift’, as Childe had said when he gifted it.

Ginger hair brushes your neck when he leans in closer, trying to get a glimpse of it. 

You’re both sitting on the couch; Childe behind you so he can hold you close as you study the new book. 

He raises an eyebrow. The suspicion in his voice is clear, giving you the indication that he’s trying to decipher what you mean. “The sakura blooms?”  

“They’re pretty. I want them.” You try to tilt your head away from him as subtly as possible. While you’ve grown used to his suffocating grip, the wild strands of his hair annoy you more than you care to admit. 

“Sakura Blooms initially appear as clusters of floating petals which are found throughout Narukami Island. Many can notably be found around Mt. Yougou and the Grand Narukami Shrine…” Childe flawlessly translates the passage next to it. 

While the specific places sound unfamiliar, you know that the sakura blooms only grow in Inazuma; which conveniently is on the other side of Teyvat. 

You put on your best act when you tilt your head to him with a dazed expression. His face is so close, your breaths mingle into one.

“You can’t get it?” The words are meant to be innocent, but they almost sound like a taunt.

Childe’s eyebrows are lightly lifted and his body tenses. Within a second, he grabs the book from your hands, allowing you to move more freely. Challenge accepted.

If your plan succeeds, you’ll have him gone for a while. Remaining close to him is a worthy sacrifice if you make him believe you need the flowers.

Remaining in his hold without his arms caging you proves to be the most difficult part. Silently, you watch him study the page filled with detailed illustrations. Deep blue eyes inspect the words you can’t decipher. 

Hopeful, you wait as you inspect every expression that crosses his face.

Eventually, he returns his arms around you. He pulls you into his arms without another word, letting the book rest on your lap again. 

With a heavy feeling in your chest, you look at the page. You look at the illustration of the grand tree full in bloom, the one depicting a bundle of petals, and then the final picture; which has the branch from the tree.

“I, um…” The words leave your mouth without thought. “I want them because you don’t have that many flowers here. I used to have flowers at home, so it’d make me happy.”

You grip the book a bit tighter. 

He stays silent. 

You hadn’t convinced him.

“And well…”

In this important moment, you think of what you’re willing to sacrifice.

By now, you’re confident in your ability to escape the house. You know that your windows are locked, as well as the main doors; but you’ve long since found out that there are some places he doesn’t check.  

How confident are you?

What are you willing to give for a single chance?

You try to look as nervous as possible. Be weak and he’d feel in control. Hit his weak spots and you’d be able to succeed. Offer the one thing he can’t forcefully take.

“If you get these flowers, I’ll accept your proposal.”

The face pressed against your neck turns. His hands squeeze you tighter and he presses into you more. 

Your heartbeat races harder than your thoughts. 

Is your gamble worth it?

Childe muses, “don’t say anything you can’t take back.” 

“I’m serious!” You grip the book tightly, bending the pages that were unfortunate enough to be in your way. At your outburst, he seems to soften. 

“Then why didn’t you start the request with that part?” His lips curl against your skin, leaving a cursed promise as he kisses you. “You know I’ll give you anything if you’re good.”

One of his hands reaches for your face and turns it to the side. Blue eyes tend to pool into yours. A broad smile is on his face.

“So… you’ll get them?”

“Yes. I should be able to get in contact with a few people, but it does mean you’ll be alone for a while.”

As the words leave his lips, you recall the windows he kept open, the path leading into the surrounding forest, and the fact that ‘a while’ could get you to another nation by the time he’d return.

You relax in his arms but Childe continues, “Do you want to see some tailors in the meantime? You must have high expectations for your dress as well, after all, we’ll only get married once.”

“…what?”

“Of course, I can help you choose the dress. I already buy all of your clothes so I should have great insight into the styles that flatter you. If you continue to act well, I might ask my mother to visit before the big day. I’m sure she’ll adore you.”

He continues,

“Unfortunately, I can’t risk a grand ceremony. My family will come, but we’d first and foremost need our blessings from the Tsarista.”

You try to push his arms away from your waist. “Childe, you’re going too fast.”

Childe’s hold burns your wrists as he holds you in place. “Don’t tease me. You know exactly what you started.”

“No—I just wanted the flowers! You always do this, trying to manipulate me—“ Your breath hitches.

Silence follows after your outburst and you try to fake submission by relaxing your body. Time spent with him has made you impatient. You’re constantly in fight mode, making it hard to bite down your words. 

Unfortunately, he plays the game far better than you do.

Soft and tender, an apology leaves your lips as you turn your head.

A dark shadow is cast over Childe’s face. A smile continues to grace his face,

But he doesn't seem happy at all.

“Ajax…?” 

You call him by his real name, hoping to strike his heart.

He hums as he watches puffs of air race out between your trembling lips, becoming more rapid as the minutes pass. Your pupils constrict, making the colour of your eyes stand out against your fear. 

His hands continue to hold down your wrists like handcuffs, yet you’ve become relaxed. 

He knows you so well. 

So, so well.

Childe brushes on hand against your head. Softly. Affectionately. 

“It’s alright. Everything is new for you. You need time to adjust to these new feelings. A wedding can’t be planned in one day, and fortunately, we now have all the time in the world.”

He turns your body sideways and pulls you in. With one hand on your cheek and the other on your lower back, he holds you in place as he brings his lips forward. 

Gently, he eases you into it. With no counterforce, he can enjoy your lips as long as he wants.

He savours the expression he sees once he parts. 

“Since you’re still adjusting to our home, I’ll help you. Instead of gathering the sakura blooms myself, why don’t I send someone to do it for me? That way, we can discuss the wedding as much as you want. I’ll even bring your stuff to my room so you won’t have to be separated from me.”

He lays your head against his chest.

His heartbeat doesn’t calm you down. It beats too fast—as if he’s excited.

You’re reminded of a fox stalking a bunny; chasing after it and letting it tire so it can strike it without trouble.

Prey to the hunter, you’ve fought and lost.

©dottiro. Do not copy, repost, translate, feed to AI, or take heavy inspiration from my content. Thank you for reading ♡

[thatacotargirl]

Shadows and Surprises (4)

Part 4 of Azriel x Reader fanfic! I hope you are all enjoying - please let me know your thoughts! I am going to try and post these chapters on Sundays from now on.

Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.

Warnings: pregnancy.

Tag list - @mirandasidefics @lilah-asteria @nyxbranwenn @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @impossibelle @mybestfriendmademe @minnieoo @hauntedstudentobservationus @st4r-girl-official

Azriel's POV

Azriel had absolutely no idea how this dinner was going to go. Truth be told, he expected you to politely decline and to take your dinner in your bedroom, give yourself some time to adjust to the change of pace your life had taken so suddenly that day. You surprised him once again - but that's what you seemed to do to him. Surprise him. You surprised him by taking an interest in him at Rita's that night, allowing him to tentatively approach you and offer to buy you a drink. You surprised him with a baby, his child. You surprised him by allowing him to not only be part of his child's life so easily, as if you hadn't only known him for a few drunken hours, and in turn, to be part of his life. He wasn't sure that his emotions had really settled down and processed the day - but he felt, deep down, that he quite liked your surprising nature.

Azriel offered you his arm and walked you slowly to the dining room in a comfortable silence; although he felt your body tense as you both approached the door and heard the laughter and chatter behind. He gave you a look - an offer to turn back - but you took a deep breath and nodded towards the door. Azriel opened it, and everyone went silent.

As you walked towards the 2 empty seats on the table, Cassian bounced out of his chair and walked towards y/n, giving her a bear hug.

"How are you feeling, y/n? Are you sure you're not too tired?" he asked, glancing down at your stomach. You chuckled. Y/n had no idea what she was in for living here with him and Cassian - both quickly becoming Mother Hens to y/n and the unborn child.

Y/n laughed in response, giving Cassian a gentle shove on the shoulder. "I'm fine, Cassian, thank you". You had seemed to ease quite a bit with Cassian's presence - perhaps because you felt you had more than one person in your corner. For some reason, Azriel felt a pang of jealousy at how quickly Cassian was able to put you at peace. He pushed the feeling down and guided you by the elbow to your seat.

Mor, however, had other plans - bounding over to y/n and pulling her back up out of her chair and into a hug.

"It is so nice to meet you, y/n! Azriel had a lot to say about you after your little tusk that night post-Rita's", Mor winked. Azriel went bright red, but y/n only laughed.

"Clearly he had a lot more than just things to say", y/n replied, gesturing at her stomach. There was a brief, silent pause; and Azriel held his breath. The pause broke almost immediately,though, as the entire table bursting out into a fit of laughter at your joke. Azriel felt himself relax a bit into his chair, feeling the initial awkward atmosphere dissipating.

Amren didn't stand, instead holding up her glass in gesture to y/n. "Pleasure to meet you", she calls out, taking a long gulp of her drink. Y/n replied kindly, and took her seat at the table. The House produced platters upon platters and everyone dished themselves a plate.

Dinner went forward as uneventful as it could have been. Jokes were passed, at Azriel's expense, and y/n was questioned relentlessly by Mor about her pregnancy and the baby, but there was a comfortable aura in the room and that was all he could have hoped for.

"Is it a boy or a girl?", Mor asked, having dragged her chair around the table after the meal to sit in front of y/n, her hands resting on y/n's swollen stomach.

"I have no idea! Madja said it is impossible to know, but there are some potential indications. I had a rough first trimester, which Madja said is more like a girl - but I also get headaches a lot - which is more like a boy".

"Az, what do you think?", Mor asked, her hands not leaving the small bump.

"I don't mind as long as they are healthy", he replied, watching in awe as Mor placed her head against the bump to try and listen in. Azriel realised that Mor was touching the baby bump before he had and felt that surge of jealousy rear its ugly head once more.

"And that they have wings", Cassian grinned.

"Ah, they do have wings", y/n replied nonchalantly, not realising quite how important that fact would be for the 3 males sat at the table. They all exchanged big smiles, thinking about the day they would be able to take Azriel's son or daughter, their nephew or niece, out to the forest to learn how to fly. Y/n looked up and smiled in response.

"For a 50/50 chance, we got lucky then", Cassian said, raising his own glass upwards in thanks to the Mother. Y/n smiled at him, but Azriel didn't miss the slight glassy-eyed look she had, the way her smile faltered if only for a millisecond and, when she recovered it, the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

Azriel watched as Mor peppered y/n with more questions about pregnancy and the baby, and noticed as y/n's shoulders began to sag slightly with exhaustion. You had also noticed that Rhys was more withdrawn than usual, offering his input into the conversation less than he would normally. Since he had come back from under the mountain, you knew there was something he was holding back, but never wanted to push your brother more than he was comfortable with. You had let him know you were there for him, and would wait.

"I think it's time we head up for the night", he said, standing and offering a hand to y/n. He saw the grateful look in your eye as you accepted.

"Thank you for a wonderful dinner", y/n said, giving Mor, Cassian and Rhys another hug each and Amren a small wave before walking to the door.

"Tomorrow?", Mor called after them. Y/n turned to give Mor a nod, and walked up the stairs ahead of Azriel.

"What's tomorrow?", he asked.

"Mor has asked me to go shopping with her for some maternity clothes and perhaps some bits for the baby. I know we have months to go, but we can't be too prepared I suppose. Plus, she was so excited, I didn't have the heart to turn her down".

Azriel felt the pang again. He hadn't even placed a hand on the swollen bump where his unborn child was growing, and Mor was already taking you shopping for baby items?

"Can I join?", he asked, before he could stop himself. Y/n faltered on the stairs.

"Would you want to?".

"Of course I would, why would you think I wouldn't?".

Y/n looked at the floor, cheeks blushing a deep red. "I just didn't think you'd be interested in going shopping". Azriel could tell that wasn't the real reason, but the deepness of the red your cheeks had gone told him that you weren't comfortable enough to share the reason just yet.

"I'd like to come, if that's ok", he replied, placing a hand on y/n's lower back to gentle guide their direction back towards the stairs and to their bedrooms.

"Yes, I'd like that", y/n replied, face still a deep shade of crimson. "Thank you for tonight, and for everything Az, I really appreciate it".

"You're more than welcome".

When he reached y/n's door, Azriel didn't know the correct way to say goodbye. Does he hug you? Offer you a kiss on the cheek? The hand? High-five you? He opted for a light squeeze on your bicep.

"Shout if you need anything".

Y/n nodded and departed behind the bedroom door, leaving Azriel alone in the hallway.

-

Y/N POV

"Mor. No", y/n said, watching Mor pull a slinky emerald green dress from the rack.

"What?! It says it's maternity!".

Y/n couldn't even grace Mor with a response. The dress, if it could even be called a dress, was just lines of emerald green velvet ribbon which showed off more than it covered. A beautiful dress, but not an everyday maternity dress.

They had been shopping for hours now, Azriel in tow holding the bags, and y/n had begun to get tired. With a beautiful new wardrobe of maternity clothes courtesy of Rhysand's card, it had been a successful shop. They had looked at baby items and started a list of things you would need, but they hadn't picked up anything to buy today. You were looking for the perfect first item to buy your baby and hadn't quite found it.

"I think I need to call it a day, Mor", you say, struggling to pull yourself up off the store sofa. Azriel and Mor rush to your side, each taking an arm and helping you to your feet. You chuckle.

"If I am this bad at only 4 months, wait until I'm 8". Mor laughs, but Azriel looks at you with a fierce expression on his face.

"Then I will carry you".

You gape at him, but Mor only laughs at how serious Azriel's face was.

"Az, she will be fine".

Azriel didn't look the slightest bit convinced. He picked up all the bags and followed you and Mor out of the shop and towards the House of Wind. Mor winnowed up, taking the bags with her, whilst Azriel flew you - careful to mind your stomach. You had noticed his apprehension about your stomach and it made you uneasy. He almost seemed, apprehensive, of it?

Once upstairs, Mor kissed your cheek and winnowed home, leaving you and Azriel. You left the bags in the living room, too tired to deal with them now, and made your way to your bedroom. You had just taken your makeup off and got yourself into bed when you hear a knock at the door.

"Come in".

Azriel walks in, a tray in hand. He places it next to you on the bed, and you are delighted to see it brimming with delicious food and your indigestion tonic. You pat the space next to you on the bed, inviting Azriel to join, and tuck in. You notice him walk over slowly, almost as if giving you an out to change your mind and send him away, before he sighed and climbed carefully on to the bed next to you. He watched as you finished the food he had prepared and took a dose of your tonic, settling back on the pillows.

"How are you feeling?", he asked.

"Tired, I didn't realise how exhausting it was to grow a baby. Everything hurts all the time".

"What is hurting now?" concern lacing his voice. You sigh.

"My legs, my feet, my lower back, my shoulders. Turns out carrying around another small human does a number on you".

Without a word, Azriel pulls the covers down from your body and moves to sit at the end of the bed. Taking your legs and placing them in his lap. He starts to rub them and you let out a contented grunt. You stay like that, in silence, for a while - Azriel taking the time to release the pressure you felt from a day of walking around the shops.

"Az?", you ask quietly. He looks to you and raises a brow.

"Why haven't you touched the bump?".

He stills.

"I- I didn't want to upset you or offend you".

You stare at him. Upset or offend you? It's just as much his child in there as it is yours! Your face softens as you take in his, his eyes longingly looking at the swelling.

"You can, Az".

Azriel moves slowly to sit next to you again. You see his scarred hands shake as he places them on his legs, as if considering how to do this. You know there is a story there, a traumatic one, but you don't want to push Azriel to tell. You see him reach one hand out and gently place it on the centre of your stomach, his eyes glancing to you to make sure you are ok with it. You nod, encouraging him to continue. He reaches out the other and cups your stomach. He stays there a while, looking both content and unsure all at once, before he looks to you and smiles.

"Thank you".

Your heart almost breaks.

"Az, you don't need to thank me. This is your child. You can do this any time you want". He nods, his stoic Spymaster face back on as he returns to the other end of the bed and picks your legs back up.

"Keep this up, Az, and I'm going to fall asleep".

He grins at you - "that's the aim".

You give him a half-lidded smile as you feel your eyes forcing themselves shut and your body sinking into the bed.

-

Azriel POV

Azriel keeps up his massage until your breathing becomes slow and steady. He looks up to see you sleeping peacefully, your hair fanned out across the pillows. He smiles, and glances down at your bump, still uncovered by the duvet and peeking out of your pyjama top.

He still hadn't wrapped his head around the fact that you were here, pregnant, with his child. He didn't think it would sink in for quite some time.

Slowly, he moves himself up the bed towards you, careful not to wake you, and places his hands gently on the bump. Resting his head on the bed, he turns to face your stomach.

"Hi baby, I'm your dad".

[justmeinadaze]

Nothing's Gonna Change My World (Steddie X You)(90s Universe)

A/N: I hope you like this. It's a new style for me and I have all the ideas for this. Each chapter will be a different universe. <3

Warnings: Steddie X Fem Y/N, The universe they view the first time is a 90s esc style one with Punk Boy in a Band Steve/ Entrepreneur Eddie and Regular 90's girl Y/N. SMUT, light spanking, daddy kink with Eddie (because Im me), and everything in between

ANGST (again because I'm me)

Y/N's kinda blah about the experiment mentioning she's only doing it for the money, mentions of cheating (her ex cheats on her), mentions of alcoholism (briefly touched on)(reader almost breaks her sobriety until Steve appears), mentions of loss of sibling (brief), these three get feisty with each other near the end. Slight cliffhanger ending I guess? There's some things we're going to learn about these three as the chapters go along.

Word Count: 6282

Donate/Tip Me

2075

“Ok, thank you all for coming and being apart of our experiment. I’m just going to go over some rules, guidelines and answer any questions you may have.”

You sigh and fold your arms as you drown out the sound of the doctor in front of you. Could you really call him a doctor? When you signed up to do this, he introduced himself as an inventor and scientist. You genuinely didn’t care either way. All that mattered to you was the ten grand payout you were expected to receive when this stupid thing was over. 

“As stated previously, you will be here for about 3 weeks. You will be provided meals and beds free of charge but any additives like cigarettes or candy do cost extra.”

A boy snorted as he laughed under his breath drawing your attention. There was a total of about 15 people in the room but this boy stood out a bit more. It could be because you saw him outside of the building smoking when you were leaving your first initial interview but he seemed a lot less “put together” than the people around you.

Every participant was given a white shirt with white sweatpants to wear and just like everyone else in the city most of the people were fairly clean cut with their hair pulled or slicked back, little to no makeup, and their face clean shaven. This boy had long, wavy hair that hung around to his shoulders and it seemed like he hadn’t brushed it in months. He dawned tattoos on his arms that had some of the people around him flashing him dirty looks like he was unkempt. 

You had a tattoo but it was hidden under your shirt by your heart where only you would see it. 

When his chocolate-colored eyes briefly locked with yours, you shifted your gaze back to the man who was speaking. 

“Every other day, you will be in the vessel for 4 hours and we do administer a calming agent to make sure you’re relaxed through the experiment.”

“Why? I thought you said this wasn’t dangerous.”, a woman interrupts beside you.

“It’s not, Mrs. Lynette, but it can be slightly…jarring… to see yourself in a different environment. We want you as relaxed as possible.”

“Excuse me. Can you explain that a bit more, please? Different environment.”, a boy asks as he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. 

You ran into this boy as well after your interview. He bumped into you as you were opening the door to leave, mumbling an apology before holding it open wider for you to step through. His smell always lingered with you even when you went back home, trying to identify where you knew it from. It was definitely cologne but it felt so familiar. 

He seemed like everyone else around him with all of his hair pushed back and his face clean of any stubble but his body language screamed that he was different. Up until this point, will everyone was sitting up straight and listening, he was leaning back with his large palms rubbing his knees as his long legs rested out in front of him. 

After asking his question, he glanced towards you before you both looked towards the doctor.

“It’s hard to explain but the best way I can is you will getting glimpses into different universes and realties. They are you just in a different plain so to speak.”

“Will we be hurt or anything?”, someone else asked.

“No, not in this universe anyway. You are only an observer. You won’t be able to interact or change anything.”

“So what’s the point of this experiment exactly?”, you ask more so out of curiosity than anything. 

The doctor smiles as he presses his clipboard to his chest. 

“To learn. Learn about other worlds, other universes, other ways we can make this universe better.” Your eyebrows raise sarcastically as you huff and gross your legs. “You guys will be the first people to test this system out so we’re hoping for a fun and unique month.”

“Will we be running into each other? What do we do if that happens?”, a man inquired. 

“We chose participants at random from different backgrounds with different circumstances and add in that there are so many factors that branch out universes or timelines. The chances of you running into someone in this room are one in a trillion. Less than even…”

You began to tune him out again until the feeling of hand touching your arm got your attention as you and the other participants were led to a large white room with 15 different pods or “vessels” as he called them. The nurse who guided you, held your hand as you stepped in and laid down in the somewhat comfy Styrofoam bed underneath you.

“Alright, Miss Y/L/N, you’re going to feel a slight pinch…” You hissed as the needle pierced your arm but the effects were instant as you laid your head back and felt your body calm. “Good. Now I’m just going to put these goggles over your eyes. This is what will allow you to see the universe. Remember, you’re just watching not interacting.”

“Okay.”, you murmured as you allowed her to place the bulky equipment over your head.

The sound of the pod closing had your fingers twitching as sounds around you became muffled. 

“Alright, Miss Y/L/N, dropping down in 3, 2, 1—”

##################

You sat in your car staring at the stupid club sign debating if you should go in or drive away. You had been sober for the past 3 years but your ex-boyfriend (as of today) decided to cheat on you with a friend from his office and all you wanted to do was drown your sorrows in booze. 

“Kallie, I’m sorry.”, you whisper as you open your car door and are promptly hit with freezing cold winds. After running to the front door, you show the man your id and he allows you entry. 

Smoothing down your hair, you quickly remove your jacket and hand it to the person behind the counter and thank her as you take the ticket you’re handed. The beeper clasped to your hip beeped but you continued to ignore it knowing who it was. 

As you take a seat at the bar, you glance around at the people dancing under the ambient red light while the band continues to play a slow but rhythmic song that even has you sway. 

“What would you like to drink, Miss?”, the bartender asks and you order the first thing that comes to mind. 

Feeling eyes on you, your gaze shifts towards the stage to see the bands guitarist eyeing you before giving you a soft wink and a smile. At the action, you suddenly feel under dressed in your overalls and long sleeve turtleneck that hugs your figure. 

The man focused on his music again and you couldn’t but watch how his fingers moved across the strings of his instrument. He reminded you of a lead singer from any 90s punk band with his hair slightly spiked up but haphazardly flowing every which way and his black polo clinging to his upper torso to show off every muscle and tattoo he had. His jeans left little to the imagination but you loved the black and white converse that he showed off when jumping into the air as he played out the final song. 

When he laughed and high fived his friend, he scrunched his nose and showed off his teeth making you smile as jealously panged your heart. You wished you were as happy as he seemed. 

Your drink was placed in front of you and you stared at the contents as your fingers played with the rim of the bottle. 

“Are you hoping to drink it with osmosis or?” You had been focusing so hard on your brain you didn’t even notice the guitarist had come up beside you causing you to jump when he spoke. “Whoa! I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you alright?”

God, he smells amazing.

“I’m ok. I was just…lost in my head.”

“I can understand that. I’m, uh, Steve, Steve Harrington.”

“Nice to meet you.”, you smile as you shake his extended hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N…that’s a beautiful name.”

“Thank you.” Clearing your throat, you try to regain control as you gesture towards the stage. “You guys sounded amazing up there.”

“Thank you, thank you so much. My friend taught me how to play and I’ve been doing it ever sense. I love the rush I get you know?”

“Yeah, I have some idea.”

His amber eyes scan you over as he takes in your soft smile and jittery hands.

“Hey. I have an idea. We’re going to an after party down the street at my friend’s house. His uncle makes a ton of money so he has like this huge mansion we all hang out in after a gig. Would you like to come? He’s a cool dude.”

You weren’t sure what it was about this boy but you felt safe with him. You felt like you had known him for years but you couldn’t figure out how or why. Following your gut, you threw money on the table and started to head towards the front to get your coat. 

“You didn’t finish your drink!”

“I don’t need to, Steve Harrington.”

“Would you mind if I ride with you? We all take a van here.”, the man asks as he slings on his jacket and he grins when your fingers graze his patches. 

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Y/N! I have been looking everywhere for you! Why the fuck are you at a bar?!”, your ex shouts as he meets you halfway up the parking lot. 

“That’s none of your fucking business! Get out of my way!”

“You know you shouldn’t be drinking!”

“And you know you shouldn’t be fucking other women yet here we are.”, you growl as you dig for your keys. 

A hand reaches out to touch you but it’s swiftly pulled back when Steve grabs his wrist. 

“Don’t fucking touch her.”

“Who the fuck is this?!”

As your ex pushes his hand away and steps towards you, the other man steps between you and shoves him back. 

“I’m not going to tell you again. Don’t touch her. It sounds like she’s done with you. Now get the fuck out of here.”

“Or what?”

Again, he steps forward but this time Steve’s fist flies hitting your ex hard in the face. 

“I warned you, asshole.”

As the bouncer comes out to see what’s going on, you hastily grab his arm and run to your car.

***

“Wow. Your friend lives here?”, you ask as you pull up to a two-story large house that took up most of the square footage of the area. “How did you two meet?”

“Um, high school?”, he answers before shutting his door and running around to open yours. “His uncle owns the factory up north and makes a ton of cash. He’s a cool dude and people love working with him.”

“Is that what your friend does?”

“Uh no. Eddie is kind of a freelancer, I guess you would say? He designs websites for people trying to utilize the world wide web. With this whole dot.com thing, he makes good money to. Designed our bands website.”

Steve didn’t even knock before entering the home but the party was in full swing as people around you were cozying up on couches and music blared. There was a pool out back where you could see people diving in and splashing around while couples clung to each other in their swimsuits. The man beside you high-fived people as he passed them, banging his head to the bass as it blared. 

Guiding you around a corner, there were a bunch of boys in front of a big screen tv, screaming towards it as they button mashed the Nintendo 64 controller. 

“Ah come on, man! Fuck you! You can’t use swords when I only have this knife!”

“Pick a better character than, Henderson! Boom!”, a long-haired boy shouted playfully as the character on the screen died. “And that is how you win, baby.”

Grinning wide, he ruffled the boy’s curls before standing and stepping over the back of his sofa.

“Harrington! Hey, man. How was the show?”

“Phenomenal as always.”, Steve beamed as he hugged his friend. “Hey, I want you to meet Y/N. Y/N, this is my friend Eddie Munson.”

As you reached out to shake his hand, he took hold of your own and kissed the back of it as he bowed in front of you.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart. Can I offer you anything to drink? A beer maybe?”

“Oh, um, no thank you. I don’t…I don’t drink.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed as he scanned you over but he chose not to press you on the issue. 

“Not a problem. Let’s head upstairs so we can talk somewhere quieter.”

Still clinging to your palm, Eddie guided as the other boy followed and you took this time to visually take in the boy in front of you. His long hair was pulled back so you could see the beautiful features in his face and the stubble that dusted his upper lip. While everyone else seemed more casual, he was dressed in a button up shirt with black slacks as if he had just got off from some corporate job. 

Like with the other man, something about this boy told you that you could trust him. You had spent your whole life struggling especially within the last 6 years and besides Kallie never felt safe around anyone or anywhere. Even with your boyfriend, you were always afraid something bad was about to happen and oddly enough when it did you weren’t surprised. 

“Welcome to my cozy nook away from the craziness.”, Eddie beams as he falls theatrically into a bean bag on the floor. “Y/N, I know you don’t drink but may I offer you some weed?”

Reaching behind him, he produces a little black box and pulls out some bud that he begins to roll. 

***

You cackle as you laugh at a story Eddie had just told that had both boys beaming your way. 

“Oh my god, it’s 3am. We’ve been up here for almost 4hrs. Do you need to get back to your guests?”

“My moochers? No, sweetheart, I don’t.”, the man answers in a husky drawl that makes you feel warm. “Honestly, Steve here is the only person who doesn’t use me for my cash or free shit so that’s why as soon as he arrives at my place, we come up here.”

“Hm…must be kind of lonely. Not knowing who you can trust.”, you reply absently causing their heads to tilt. “I can understand that.”

“Yeah, poor girl’s going through a breakup.”, Steve relays causing you to sit up and cross your legs. “Something about him cheating?”

“Yeah, um, I came home from work early and they were… fucking asshole. I’m not sure how he knew what bar I was at but—”

“Especially since he seemed to think you shouldn’t be there.” At his comment, you and Eddie shift your gaze his way before your head hangs. “Something about how you shouldn’t be drinking. It’s weird when I met you, you were sitting at the bar with a drink in your hand but you weren’t drinking it.”

When you didn’t respond, Eddie clapped his hands and tossed a smile your way. 

“I have an idea. Let’s play truth or dare. It will help us get to know each other better and you can find out how much of a whiney bitch Steven is.”

The man narrows his eyes jokingly at his friend as you laugh. 

“Harrington, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Is it true… that every time your dad pisses you off you get a new tattoo?”

“Oh yeah. That’s why I have so many.”, he sasses, playfully widening his eyes as he removes his shirt to show them off. “I got this one on my stomach when my dad told me I was a waste of space for running off to join a band.”

“Steve…I’m so sorry.”, you try to comfort, reaching out to run your palm along his warm skin.

“Ed, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Is it true…is it true you don’t smoke?”

Eddie flashes his friend a disgusted face before showing of the joint in his fingers. 

“I only smoke the green stuff, my friend. I used to smoke cigarettes but after a doctor told me I was at risk because my mom died of cancer I quit the stuff.”

“That’s really good. I’m proud of you.”, you grin.

“Thank you, princess. Maybe you can help me talk Tom Delonge over here into stopping.”, he chuckles as Steve lightly kicks his friend’s knee with his bare feet. “Alright, Y/N. Truth or dare?”

“Um, truth.”

“Is it true what your boyfriend said? That you shouldn’t be drinking.”

You blink, taken off guard by his question as both men’s eyes bore into your frame. 

“It’s not that I shouldn’t be. I choose not to.”

“Why?”

“I, um, I used to be an alcoholic. When I drank…I got stupid…and people got hurt.” You glance their way expecting judgement like everyone else in your life but when you’re met with their soft eyes, you smile towards Steve. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Is it true you think less of me because I almost broke my sobriety tonight?”

As your head slightly hangs, he reaches out with his fingers to lift your chin. 

“No, it’s not true. I get it, honey. Fucking asshole broke your heart and you just wanted the pain to stop. He had no right coming at you the way he did like he’s your fucking dad or something.” You can’t help but exhale as his thumb caresses your cheek before dropping his hand back around his legs and focusing on Eddie. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Is it true you think less of Y/N?”

“God no. I think she’s strong, funny, and extremely beautiful.” You blush at his compliment, reaching out to lightly swat his arm before he swiftly grabs your wrist and pulls you closer to his lap. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

The long-haired boy smiles mischievously at your answer.

“I dare you…to kiss Steve.”

“You don’t want to kiss me?”, you ask incredulously as his grin widens.

“I do but I don’t want Harrington to think I’m trying to steal you away.”

Releasing you from his grasp, you lean back and scoot closer to his friend, closing your eyes as you inhale the smell of weed and nicotine on his breath. 

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”, Steve whispers and that comfort is all you need as you tilt forward so your mouth can crash to his. 

The best way to describe what you were feeling was safe and you reveled in it, falling deeper and deeper in with every movement of his lips. His palm tenderly cupped your face to bring you closer as his tongue invaded and danced with yours. 

“Hey, hey, hey. We aren’t done playing!”, Eddie chuckled as he swatted your two apart but Steve was unwilling as he lifted you off the floor and placed you in his lap with your back to his chest. His strong, tattooed arms wrapped around you and you melted into his embrace. “You’re turn, princess.”

“T-Truth or dare, Steve.”

“Dare, baby.”

“I dare you to take off your pants and underwear.” With one arm still wrapped around your stomach, he unbuckled his belt and awkwardly shoved down everything he was wearing below his waist. “F-Fuck.”, you moaned when his large cock sprung free and hit his stomach. 

“Harrington, she’s not going anywhere. You can let her go.”

“I like feeling her against me. Truth or dare, Munson?”

“Dare, dude.”

“I dare you to help Y/N out of her clothes so we can get a good look at this beautiful woman.”

Eddie crawls towards you on his hands and knees, playfully grabbing your ankle and sliding his palm up your calf. 

“Is that ok, sweetheart? Can we see your body?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah of course. Um!” They pause at your exclamation as both sets of eyes look down at you with concern. “I just feel like I should tell you…this isn’t normal for me…like I don’t go around jumping into bed with every guy…I meet at a bar.”

As you struggle through your words, Steve kisses your temple while Eddie unhooks your overalls. 

“No judgments if you did, babe. We’re not like that either. I’m assuming Harrington here really likes you. He’s never brought a girl to the after party before.”

Lifting your hips, you allow him to slide off your pants while you help by removing your turtleneck and tossing it to the side. 

“Is that true?”

“I’m, um, a little shy believe it or not.”, the man giggles as his lips lean down to kiss your neck.”

“Truth or dare, Y/N?”

“Truth.”, you pant as their hands caress your skin. 

“Is it true you’ve never been with two men before?”

“Yes, it’s true but…”

“But what?”, Eddie coos his lips attach to the other side of your throat. 

“I trust you. I can’t explain it but I do.” Neither man said a word as they continued to suck on your skin before you aggressively grabbed the long-haired boy’s collar and forced him to face you. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you both to fuck me.”

Lurching forward, his mouth needily kissed yours and you moaned at the taste of the joint on his lips. After hastily ripping off his shirt and pants with his own boxers, he pumped his cock in your direction and you didn’t even hesitate as your palm took hold of his girth and your tongue ran along the tip.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Spit on it. Get it nice and wet.” Eddie bites his bottom lip when your eyes flick up to meet his as you spit on his mushroom head and stroke it along his shaft. 

A loud moan ripples through from your throat when you feel Steve adjust you slightly before sliding his fingers under the waist band of your panties and run his fingers through your folds. 

“Shit, honey. Already so wet. Is this because of us?” When you nod, he mewls as he kisses your cheek. “Go ahead, pretty girl. Suck my friend’s dick. I got you.”

You did as he suggested and Eddie’s fingers tangled in your hair as he lightly thrust his hips, pushing himself as far down your throat as he could go. Your own whimper vibrated against him as Steve breached your entrance and slid one of his own digits into your cunt. 

“Goddamn it, Ed. She’s so fucking tight. I wonder how she tastes.”

His friend pants out a laugh as he bends down and lifts you off Steve’s lap to place you directly onto the floor.

“If you wanted to eat her out all you had to do was ask. Is this ok, Y/N? The floor isn’t cold or anything?” Shaking your head, you reach for his lips and he smiles at your eagerness as his hands roam your skin. “You really are beautiful, baby. What’s this?”, he asks as he lifts off your bra and his fingers trace the ink on your chest. “Who’s Kallie?”

“My sister. She died three years ago.”

Eddie’s eyes scanned yours before leaning down to give you a gentle kiss. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Feathery light kisses grabbed your attention as Steve traced your thigh with his lips before deeply inhaling you through his nose between your legs. 

“You smell good, honey. Can I make you feel good?”

“Please.”, you beg and he obliges as his tongue runs up your slit to your clit. 

Your fingers played with his hair and with every light pull, he would moan making your eyes roll back as Eddie’s palm massaged your stomach and up between the valley of your breasts. 

“Does his tongue feel good?”

“Yes. C-Can I…Can I taste you again?”

As he pushed up onto his knees, you stuck your tongue out and he licked his lips as he tapped his cock against the muscle. 

“Now keep your tongue flat, baby, and I’m gonna fuck your throat while Stevie here makes you cum.”

At the sound of his name, the boy tilted back and spit directly into your hole, eliciting a filthy moan from you as he slid two of his fingers inside of you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you allowed Eddie to use you as he pumped his length hard and you gagged around him. 

The sound drove Steve crazy and he wrapped his lips around your bundle of nerves as the obscene sound of slurping filled the room. 

“Good girl. Fuck, baby. Cum on his fingers and keep that throat open for me. That’s it.”

Your pussy clung to Steve’s digits as the ball dropped and you came aggressively as he helped you through it. Kissing his way up your stomach, his lips lingered along your tattoo before you felt his tongue lick your skin to your neck. 

“You taste so fucking good, honey. Taste yourself.”, he commanded in a breathy whimper as he offered you his fingers that you eagerly sucked on. “Atta girl. Sweet like you.”, he cooed with a smile as he kissed your cheek.

They exchange a glance and switch places, Steve on his knees by your head while Eddie opens your legs wider and tosses one of them over his shoulder. You mewl as he glides his cock through your folds, collecting your slick as he pumps his hips. 

As he begins to push inside of you, you wince slightly at his size while he carefully inches forward.

“I know, baby. You’re ok. Everything’s ok.”, the other man tries to sooth as he pets your head and places tender kisses along your face. “You’re doing good.”

A jolt of electricity shoots through your body and your gaze shifts towards Eddie who was rubbing your clit with his thumb as he continued to watch himself disappear inside you.

“F-Fuck, it’s so big.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m—fuck, you’re so tight—I’m almost all the way in.”

Searching blindly behind you, it takes Steve a moment before he realizes what you’re looking for. 

“You want to suck my cock, Y/N? Can you handle us both right now?”

“Yes…please…”, you whine making him groan with need as he scoots closer to your side. 

When his friend bottoms out, he freezes allowing you to get used to his size as he tenderly kisses and rubs your calf against his shoulder. 

“Fuck me.”

Finding a steady rhythm, Eddie obliges and so does Steve as he guides his length into your awaiting mouth. 

“Shit, baby. Your mouth is amazing. Taking—mmph—taking us both so well.  Y-Your pussy’s so good you shut Munson up.”, he chuckles as his friend’s head hangs absorbing the pleasure while he clings to your thigh for leverage. 

Biting his bottom lip, calloused fingers play with your nipples as the other boy tilts down a bit more to do the same. 

“Oh, Eddie!” As he leaned over, he brought your leg with him, pushing his cock deeper into your cunt and slamming into buttons you had no idea even existed. “Right—Right there.”

“Right there, princess? Ok…ok, I got you, baby. Daddy’s got you. Fuck.” The title threw you off guard as your pussy gripped him like a vice. “Fuck, Y/N. You like that, don’t you? Like knowing Daddy’s taking care of you?”

“Jesus.”, Steve murmured as you bobbed your head faster around him. 

Placing his palms flat on the floor to balance himself, the boy above you rolled his hips practically punching the air from your lungs as you choked and spit spilled from your lips. 

Steve hastily backed away, allowing you catch your breath as your eyes locked with Eddie’s. 

“Say it, sweetheart. Beg Daddy to make you cum.”

“P-Please, Daddy. Make me—ahhh—make me cum. Oh f-fuck.”

Skin slapping into skin echoed through the room till your back arched and your nails dragged down his bare chest as you came. 

“Jesus H. fucking Christ. W-Where can I cum, Y/N?”

“Inside…Inside please.”

Dropping your leg to the side, Eddie collapsed on top of you with his hands on either side of your head as he grunted in your ear. 

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. Mmph—take my cum, baby. For pussy this good, it’s yours.”

His entire body trembled as his release spilled inside of you, a little chuckle leaving his lips at the feeling of your cunt milking him till he was empty. 

As soon as he rolled away, Steve was at your side softly kissing your sweaty face. 

“Are you ready for me, pretty girl?” When you nod, he swiftly wraps his arms around you and spins you around until your giggling on top of him. “You really are beautiful, Y/N.”

“Very. Your ex is a fucking moron.”, Eddie smirked as he lazily reached out to run his fingers along your leg. 

Your own palms run along the guitarist’s chest as you take in all of his unseen tattoos that were slightly obscured by the hair on his chest. 

“I like this one. ‘Jai guru deva, om’.”, you smile as you point to the words. “I wouldn’t expect a man like you to like the Beatles.”

Steve’s own grin grows as he pushes up onto his elbows. 

“You really are something, aren’t you? Definitely more than what’s on the surface.”

Your lips kiss his and he cups your face bringing you with him as he lies down flat on his back once more. Feeling movement below you, you both moan as his grinds his hard, leaking cock between your legs. 

As you reach between your bodies, the two of you watch as you hold onto him and gradually sink down onto his length. 

“Oh my God, Steve.”

“Fuck, honey. T-Take your time. We have all night.”

As you slowly roll your hips, his large, gorgeous hands run along your thighs, up your sides, and to your breasts, kneading them in his palms as your own balance against him.

“There you go, baby. Am I—mmph—am I deep? Can you feel me right here?”

When his hand pressed on your lower tummy, your head fell back as you whimpered his name and covered it with your own. You found a rhythm as you bounced on top of him, his moans mixing with yours as he watched your body move.

“God, Y/N, you’re so fucking sexy riding my dick. That’s it, baby. Harder.”, he commanded as he spanked your behind causing you to fall forward and hold yourself up with your palms. Tilting towards you, his mouth wrapped around your nipple as his tongue flicked against the bud and he hit your ass again.

“Fuck, Steve.”

“That’s right, pretty girl. Mmm—say my name like that again.”

“S-Steve…please…I’m…”

Wrapping his arms around your back, he yanked you flat against his chest and planted his feet into the carpet as he thrust up into you roughly. Fingers threaded through your hair and pressed you to his neck as your lips clung to his skin as he grunted into your ear. 

Your screams were muffled but he could hear you chanting his name as you came, driving him over the edge as his rhythm faltered and you felt his release coat your quivering walls. 

You both continued to pant as he rolled you onto your side and a second set of lips tenderly kissed your shoulder. 

“Are you alright? Do you need anything? Water?”, Eddie asked with a kindness behind his tone that made you smile. 

“No, thank you. I’m alright.”

Nodding, he absently reached behind him and produced a blanket to cover your bodies with while Steve continued to pet your head. 

“Hey, um, I have a gig on Friday in Indianapolis. Would you want to come?”

You giggle at his shyness as his friend grins wide behind you. 

“I think it’s cute after what we just did, you’re still nervous to talk to me.”

“I’m not nervous to talk to you. I’m nervous…we won’t hear from you again and I don’t know about Ed but I’d like to get to know you more.”

“I definitely would. I’m going with him on Friday for a meeting and I’d love to experience one of his concerts with you. We can all get dinner afterwards…talk.”

“Truth or dare?”, you ask Eddie as you both softly smile at each other. 

“Truth.”

“Is it true that I have some demons in my past that may frighten you away from me?”

The man blinks as he takes in your question before leaning down to lightly kiss your lips. 

“It’s true but it takes a lot to scare me away, sweetheart. Trust me. We’ve got some demons to but we’re learning to deal with them just like you seem to be. Maybe we can even help you.”

“Truth or dare?”, you ask Steve as your turn your attention to him. 

“Truth, honey.”

“Is it true that this isn’t a one-time thing for you both? That you genuinely like me.”

Smiling, his tattooed hand cups your cheek as he gives you a sloppy kiss that makes you laugh. 

“It’s true. I fell for you the moment you walked into the bar. As soon as I spoke with you I knew Munson would like you to. We don’t have to move fast or anything. We can take this as slow as you need to.”

Eddie’s fingers tilt your head his way.

“Truth or dare, Y/N?”

“Dare.”, you answer as you bite your bottom lip coyly. 

“I dare you to stay and give us a chance because we promise you won’t regret it.”

########################

“Whoa, Whoa, Miss Y/L/N! Everything’s ok!”, the nurse tries to comfort as you jerk up and remove the goggles from your eyes. 

Glancing around you, you hear the sounds of the other participants crying and talking over one another as they describe what they saw. 

“Ok, let me just check your vitals really quickly and then we can give you another relaxer to calm you—”

“Mr. Harrington, WAIT!”, another nurse shouts across the way as the man heatedly stomps away from her to grab Eddie’s sleeve and tug him out of the room. 

“Mr. Harrington! Mr. Munson! Hang on now!”

“Miss Y/L/N, please come back!”

You ignored her as you jumped out of your pod to follow where they were going. 

“You said it shouldn’t be a fucking problem!”, Steve hissed.

“I didn’t think it would but I’m not a fucking scientist. I haven’t physically spoken to you or seen you two years and it’s not like we were the best of friends before that! I figured ‘other realities’ of me would also know what a fucking asshole you are!”, Eddie growled back as he pushed the man away. “I didn’t expect it to be like that…”

“You two know each other?!”, you angerly whisper causing their heads to jerk your way. “So much for fucking random. Look, just keep your fucking mouths shut! I’m not getting kicked out of this thing because you two screwed everything up.”

“Excuse the hell out of me, Miss high and mighty but how is what happened our fault?!”, the pretty boy scolded as he crossed his arms. “How do you know us?”

“WHAT?!”

His palm promptly slams over your mouth as he pulls you around the corner and shoves you against the wall. 

“Shhhh! You’re not the only one who needs to be here. Now, Eddie probably appeared because we’ve met each other so how do we know you?”

“I’ve never seen either of you in my life.”, you answer when he removes his hand. “And how do I know you don’t know me?” As his eyes scan you from head to toe your own roll. “Really? You are a fucking asshole.”

“I’m not trying to be. I just…My class of people don’t usually run into yours.”

“How do you even know what my class is?”

“I mean…”, he responds, gesturing absently up and down towards you.

“Wow. You were such a better person in the other universe. If I’m so beneath you, how do you know him?”

“Look, it’s none of your fucking business alright? Let’s just chalk that up to being a fluke or something and move on with your lives, hm?”, Eddie intervenes as you and Steve sigh and relent. 

“Miss Y/L/N! You three need to get back inside so we can take your vitals and prepare for the interview.”, a nurse commands as she points into the room. 

“Y/L/N. As in Michael Y/L/N?”

Without answering, you hurry back inside and fold your arms as you sit back near your pod.

“So you do know her?”, Eddie whispers as they both slowly enter the room. 

“Uh…no. No, I know her last name. You do to…Our private school was named after him.”

The long-haired boy blinks as he tries to comprehend the information in front of him. 

“Wait a minute. Why DON’T we know her then? Shouldn’t she be like a billionaire or something?”

“I don’t fucking know. Just drop it, ok. Like you said, it’s a fluke or something. Let’s just avoid her and avoid each other so we can do this and get outta here.”

#################

@baileebear @jasminelafleur @twirls827 @dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @starboygf @alba8688 @crybabyddl @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @utterlyinsanity @hardladyheart

[ahotmesswithprivilege]

Never Alone

paring: Bradley Bradshaw x female!IC!reader (callsign Nike )

wordcount: ca. 3700 (only because this will be a multi-part thing XD)

synopsis: When Bradley stumbles out of the Hard Deck with a pretty tag chaser he has a plan for the night. Take her home, fuck her, kick her out. Not that this was something he did often but with the stress at work he needed to let off some steam. That is until he hears someone crying and his night takes a turn he hadn't expected at all.

note: I initially intended to post the whole thing (currently at almost 12000 words 🤯 ), but I really wanted to post a new piece and since I started a lot of new WIP instead of finishing something I thought this would be a good idea. Also, my Rooster debut so to speak (you can thank @mynameismckenziemae for this one. The fact that Rooster is the hero in this one is kind of on her 😅 . Thanks for helping me decide and for listening to my rambles on the regular. I am really thankful for the support) and I hope you all like it. And you know that navy inaccuracies are a given with my stuff, but this time I went a bit more ham than usual. The role of IC (Incident Commander) is existing in crisis and natural disaster management but fuck if I know if some work for the Navy. I made all of that up for the sake of the plot. Don't like that, please skip this one. And last but not least, yes this is yet again very self-indulgent stuff and it will get only worse with the next part, so if you don't like it, click off 😘

Trigger Warning(If I forgot something or you want me to add to the list, my inbox is wide open. You are responsible for your media consumption, so proceed with caution, you know the drill): plus-size!reader, military/navy inaccuracies, non-canon (not even sure if this is canon compliant so, take that as you will), allusion to trauma/dissociative episode, written by a non-native speaker

|| Masterlist ||

divider by @sweetmelodygraphics banner by @firefly-graphics gif by @jensens-ackles

!!!Minors do not interact! I block blank blogs/without age/Minors!!!

When Bradley stumbles out of the Hard Deck with a pretty tag chaser on his arm he knows how this is gonna end. Take her home, have some fun and then kick her out. He wasn't one to indulge often, but considering how Maverick had been on his ass during training all week, he really needed to let off some steam. His arms were wrapped around her waist, lips wandering over her neck as he manoeuvred her back towards his Bronco until he stopped in his tracks.

There it was again. He had almost missed it with the busty brunette giggling into his ear, but he was sure that he heard right. "Hey Casanova, I am down here", she puts a hand on his cheek to pull his focus back to her," You wanted to show me a good time, remember?" But Rooster couldn't focus on the way her hands were roaming his body or the way she began to kiss his jaw, leaving a trace of lipgloss in her wake. "Didn't you hear that? Someone's crying" "That's just a girl who got what you promised me", she retorts, but it only makes him cringe. If this is how she imagined the sound of a consenting couple, he sure as fucking hell didn't want her in his bed.

Untangling himself from her limbs he walked over to the dark place next to a huge palm tree. The curled-up figure was barely visible in the shadows, but the sniffling was getting louder the closer he walked. "Hey what about me?", the woman whines, stomping her high heel sandal-clad foot on the ground. "Go in and find yourself another set of tags", he growls back annoyed, regretting the tone of his voice and the volume the moment he sees the figure flinch.

This was bad.

For a moment he wondered if he should call Phoenix or even Penny to make sure he wasn't doing more damage than good, but then he saw how a ring caught the light from the Hard Deck entrance. He knows that ring. The silver laurel branches that are winding around a delicate finger. He has seen it more than once.

"Nike?", he freezes for a moment unable to compute the situation. He had been at the Hard Deck all night and was sure he would have spotted you in the crowd. Not to mention that you weren't one for bars. You said as much yourself whenever one of the others had invited you for an evening out. "Hey Nike, it's me. Rooster", he tries to make himself small as he approaches, not wanting to intimidate you, voice soft and gentle. "Are you...", he begins before he stops himself. Was he really just about to ask you if you were ok? It's so goddamn fucking obvious that you are not, so he settles for something else. "What happened, Nike?" You were still sitting there, legs pulled close to your body, head resting on your knees as you cried. He moved another step closer when you suddenly looked up at him as if only now you realised that someone was there. "Rooster?"

Your chest was heaving, your fingers nervously drumming on your kneecaps while you tried to focus on him, clearly struggling with the situation "Yeah. It's me. Shall I call someone?", he asked and as soon as he mentioned the call you began frantically shaking your head, reaching a trembling hand out to him to grab the wrist of the hand that was about to reach into his pocket. "No, please don't" He pulls his hand back out of his pocket and lifts it up in the air to signal surrender. "Ok, I'm not"

Bradley only knows you as IC. The woman for the impossible jobs and who you call when shit hit the fan and you need someone to fix it. A woman tough as nails and level-headed who always has a backup plan for the backup plan to make sure you got your people home safe and you were fucking brilliant at it. They named you after the goddess of victory for a reason. Whenever he was on a mission you were responsible for he felt a lot calmer and he knew he wasn't the only one. People trusted your competence and your judgement. They trusted you.

Hell, you were probably the only person on planet Earth to tell Admiral Simpson no if you thought something was a shitty idea and lived to tell the tale.

"Then say what you need Nike. Please?", he pleads feeling completely helpless. He has never seen you so utterly terrified and there is a feeling rising in his chest that makes him want to knock on the door of whoever left you so scared and very impolitely beat the shit out of them. You loosen the grip on his wrist and let your hand glide down his arm until yours is in his and he gives you a reassuring squeeze. Even with his fingers wrapped around yours, he can feel the trembling. When you finally answer him your voice is barely above a whisper. "A place to stay"

He didn't need to hear anything else. He just nodded and pulled you up by the hand that was still clinging to his own. Your feet were wobbly and the heels didn't make it any better. His eyes wandered over you, assessing whether there was any injury that he had to be mindful of before he let go of your hand for a second, the terror lighting back up in your eyes immediately. "It's ok, Nike. I am here", his voice is low and raspy as he places one hand on your back and bends down, placing the other under your knees to pick you up bridal style. He felt the way your body seemed to relax in his hold, face buried in his neck as he rested his head on yours before he murmured into your hair. "Let's get you home"

At a red light on the drive to his place he looks down where your hand is still holding his, his thumb gently petting the back of your hand while your head rested on his shoulder. In all the years of knowing you, he's never seen you so close to someone else. You usually prefer to keep people out of your personal space. It was something everyone on base respected and that makes him wonder.

You were so strong, so resourceful and intelligent. You had seen so much shit in your life and 9 times out of ten they called you in when it already hit the fan, so you were no stranger to working under immense pressure, the lives of people depending on the shots you were calling. How could someone bring you into a position where you would be so utterly terrified that it'd push you into a state that looked like a full-blown anxiety attack?

Considering the pretty dress, the heels and your by now smudged make-up it was likely you'd been out today and since bars and clubs are not your scene, he figures it must have been a restaurant. The thought that someone treated you so badly was infuriating him. You had dedicated your life to protecting people, making sure that they get back home to their families and loved ones unharmed. To treat someone like you bad enough to send you spiralling called for a grade-A asshole and a part of him hoped you'd tell him the name later. He would gladly pay that asshat a visit and he would bet, the rest of the dagger squad would happily tag along.

It's not much later when he puts the Bronco in park in front of his house, feeling the way you instantly stiffen next to him. "I'll go ahead and open the door", your grip around his hand tightens even more. You are holding on to him for dear life. Bradley Bradshaw was your lifeline right now and to be someone you trusted so much filled his heart with pride. He only wished he would have found out under different circumstances.

"I'll be right back, Nike", he hears you stifle a sob while you tremble. Whether it's the chill night air or your fear, he is not quite sure and so he leans to the side to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. "You tell me when you are ready", he adds, pulling you into an embrace as the two of you sit here in his car. He'd stay here with you for hours if you needed it. "Promise you'll come back" "I promise", he looks down at you and you nod. Letting go of his hand so he can get out of the car. Brad cannot remember any other time when he ran up the steps to his house this fast, unlocking the door and grabbing the quilt from his couch before he gets right back to you.

Seeing the way your eyes light up when you see him as he opens the car door makes his heart soar and ache at the same time. "Told you, I'd come for you Nike", he steps closer and gently places the blanket around your shoulders and when he picks you up again he feels how you instantly melt into his embrace. "I'll always come for you"

He tried to kick his front door closed as quietly as he could to not spook you even more and kept the lights off too as he made his way to his bedroom. From there he goes into the en-suite and sits you down on the counter. "Blanket on or off?" "Off" He nods, taking the colourful patchwork off of your shoulders and throwing it in the corner where he usually stores his dirty laundry. He could deal with that some other time. "I'll turn on my bedside lamp in the other room. Close your eyes and I’ll tell you when to look”, he was looking for any sign that you needed another moment but you nodded.

So he turns around and walks into his bedroom, turning on the lamp and throwing the next best piece of fabric over it to dim the light. It was enough to see something but not too much on your eyes that had probably gotten used to the darkness outside. "You can open your eyes", he says, turning back to look at you, eyes wandering over you for a moment to see if there was any injury that he had missed in the darkness outside the Hard Deck but he couldn't find anything. On his way back to you he rummaged around in his drawer, finding a Phillies jersey that could fit you if the dress wasn't comfortable enough for you to sleep in.

"I'm back", he announces himself and sees how your entire body relaxes, shoulders lowering and fingers no longer playing nervously with your ring. "I'm gonna take your shoes off first" He throws the jersey over his shoulder before he goes down on his knees, unlacing your oxford heels, every move slow and deliberate, before he places them down on the floor under the cabinet, to get them out of the way. He is looking up at you from his crouched position. He wants to seem as non-threatening as possible for what comes next.

"Do you want to keep your dress on or change into a shirt?", he asks, taking the jersey from his shoulder and showing it to you. He sees the way you are contemplating for a long while, brow furrowed and teeth sinking into your lower lip before you reach out for the worn-out material. It's soft and you are digging your fingers into the material and holding onto it the way you'd been holding onto his hand. Holding on for dear life.

"Want me to stay or wait outside?", he asks, not wanting to put you into a worse situation than you are already in. Damn, he wished you would have allowed him to get Phoenix or Penny, then this would have been not as bad by a long shot. You are quiet for a while and he wonders if you've drifted off again the way he found you in front of the Hard Deck, but then your gaze finds his and you take a deep breath. "Can you help with the zipper?" "Of course"

He gets up and watches you jump off the counter, your stance much more stable now that the heels are off. It's more the look he's used of you and it gives him the feeling that he's at least doing something right here. You turn around, his jersey still pressed to your chest, looking down at the washed-out red and white fabric as if it gave you some form of solace. Bradley takes a step closer, his eyes searching yours in the mirror to make sure you know what would come next and when you give him a nod he reaches out his hand, gently pulling down the zipper. Underneath the fabric is some sort of underdress all laced up with a pretty bow. Fuck. He would have never taken you for the corset-wearing type of gal.

You let the dress slide down to the floor before you pull his jersey over your head. He wants to help you to smooth it down your body but you shake your head and his hands are off immediately. "Sorry" "No...Can you untie...?" This time he's the one nodding, letting his hands glide under the fabric, pulling at the laces to undo the bow and then loosening them enough so you could let it glide down your body too and step out. The pile of fabric, tulle and boning is on the floor and he sees that you attempt to lean down, your hand on the counter for balance in order to pick your clothes up but he's faster. "Thank you" “I can put this on a hanger for you”, he nods over to where he usually stores his drying shirts. “There are loops...”, you start and he easily finds them, placing them on the hanger's hooks before he puts them on the clothes rail. As his eyes wander over the dress, he's wondering for a moment who you had met to doll up like this. "Anything else?"

He sees the way you are thinking, fighting with yourself "Whatever it is, if I can do it, I will" "Can you help with the stockings?" You don't meet his eye, probably embarrassed to make yourself vulnerable in front of a coworker like this but right now Rooster doubts that there is anything in this world he wouldn't do for you.

So for the second time tonight, Bradley Bradshaw lets himself fall onto his knees, feeling your hand on his shoulder for support while both hands are smoothing up your calf to your knee and under the jersey, feeling where the nylon ended so he could pull it down for you. His eyes are glued to the ground to make this at least a little less awkward for you. Once the fabric is gone, he switches to the other side and repeats the same movement before he looks up at you, the bunched-up material ending up under the sink next to your shoes.

"You good, Nike?", he asks, eyes searching your face for any sign that he's overstepped but all he finds is that gentle expression of fondness on your face, not quite a smile but considering the circumstances, Bradley would settle for this. You give him a small nod, hand moving from his shoulder closer to the crook of his neck, fingers lingering on his scars and Brad couldn't help but close his eyes at the gentle touch, willing his body to stay perfectly still to not destroy this moment of peace. Not for you and not for him. "Thank you Rooster", he's had your voice in his ear so often, assertive and commanding, but now your voice was gentle, as much a caress for him as your fingers. "For you, always", he looks up at you and for a moment he feels like the world stops turning and he wonders if given another chance at a different time, you would return to his home and allow him to prove to you that there were men out there who could treat you right.

When you finally pull back your hand he slowly moves up to stand before you, towering over you but you don't flinch. Bradley Bradshaw doesn't make you feel you need to and he cannot help but feel a pride rising in his chest that of all people, you chose him to put your trust in. "Now let's get you into bed", he steps to the side, letting you walk past him with his hand hovering over the small of your back. His hand wants to touch, but he doesn't want to push. Not after the night you had. That is until he realises that you are walking towards the door.

"Where do you think you are going?" "Couch" Fuck no. He would not make you sleep on that thing that was short and so worn out that it'd surely break your back. But what was even worse than the idea of you on his couch was the fact you believed that he would allow, let alone want that. Getting his hands back on you he picks you up bridal style and carries you back over to the bed. "You take the bed" "Rooster..." "No" There is a small smile playing on his lips. It reminds him of the first time he met you way back when.

You had just finished the mission briefing when Hangman suggested a change to the plans and your only reply was: "No" "What no?" "No", you looked Hangman straight in the eyes, pretty brow arched, and everyone in the room could feel the fury start to simmer in Hangman's veins at the way you're dismissing him and his points so easily. "No is a complete sentence, Lieutenant Seresin. Considering your reputation as base casanova I was hoping you'd understand the concept" That was the moment Rooster knew that he liked you.

Rooster was a navy guy and could sleep wherever, even on the hardwood floor if he had to, but you needed some proper rest. He lays you down on the bed as gently as possible and when he straightens his back he sees the expression on your face. It's such a wild swirl of emotions that are washing over your features, ever-changing like the ocean, that he doesn't know what to expect next, but it sure as hell wasn't this. "I'm scared of being alone"

He knows that this is far more than a simple statement. It is your way to ask for him to stay, to have him around for your comfort. It's not like he doesn't want to, but there is a part of him that wonders if this would be something you'd come to regret the next morning. He had always known you as someone who loved her personal space, avoiding even handshakes whenever you could. He had his hands all over you tonight and he didn't want to push his luck, but then he saw your pleading eyes and he smiled down at you. "I'll just get into some comfortable clothes and then I'm right back", he leans down and presses a soothing kiss to your forehead. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this soft around someone and yes, the circumstances were shitty at best, but there was a part of his heart that revelled in the gentleness of these moments. "Thank you, Bradley"

He has to stop himself for a moment, eyes wide with surprise as he looks at you. Never before have you used his first name. It was always Lieutenant, Bradshaw, Rooster or a combination of those three, usually depending on how pissed you were at him for fucking around with your meticulous mission plans. There was a flicker of fear that washed over your face as the realisation hit you what you just said but he reached out his hand, gently resting on your cheek, thumb caressing your skin. "No need to thank me, Nike. I am glad if I can help"

He allows himself another moment to enjoy the feeling of your soft skin against his before he pulls back and turns to grab some fresh clothes to sleep in and heads to the bathroom. His movements are hurried, almost frantic while he gets out of his clothes and ready for bed. All the while feeling a fear creeping up on him. He closed the door, to make sure to respect your boundaries but now he regretted it. It meant he couldn't check in on you, couldn't make sure that you were ok and not spiralling. Throwing his worn clothes over to the hamper without caring if he actually hit or not he just pulls on his sweat pants and opens the door, muscle shirt still in hand as he walks into the bedroom and pulls it over his head.

When he reached the bed where you had curled up already, he crouched down to be on eye level with you. “Tell me what you need from me", his voice is soft and quiet as he talks, pushing a strand of hair out of your face and behind your ear. He sees how you try to sink even deeper into the pillow as if you wanted to hide from him and that makes his heart ache. "Remember Nike. Whatever you need as long as I can make it happen, you'll get it" "Can you...", your voice is barely above a whisper and when he tries to meet your gaze you turn around and scoot over on the bed to make room for him. "I just really don't want to be alone"

You feel the way the mattress is dipping under his weight but you cannot bring yourself to turn around and look him in the eye. "You are not alone Nike", his voice is close to your ear and you can feel the way his breath is fanning out over your cheek and neck. And then you surprise him when you reach behind him and take his hand to place it over your waist, your fingers interlaced with his as your thumb drummed a nervous rhythm into the palm of his hand. "You are never alone"

Part 2

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[cultofdixon]

Oddly Fascinating

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Can you imagine a human fucking pretzel? Well you certainly like to freak the others out unexpectedly • SFW/NSFW - Implied Sex

Requested by: Anon

It’s…fascinating. The things Y/N can do with JUST her body. Keep that noggin out of the gutter for a minute.

Y/N joined the group a little after the Woodbury infusion to the prison. She didn’t have a group and sort of ended up in Virginia because she simply didn’t stop walking from where she originated.

One day Daryl, Michonne, and Glenn were out on a run in the closest outdoor mall, which is a few hours away from the prison—so they were going to have to camp. Daryl went to check the store that looked like a miniature Home Depot thinking he could find some camping supplies but when he entered the store…said camping supplies were in use but no person.

“If anybody is here, I ain’t gonna hurt yea,” Daryl stated knowing that wouldn’t go far but to his surprise one of the storage boxes’s lids flung open. Soon a woman’s upper half popped out like a jack in the box and it was a bit unsettling to the archer.

“I had to see who I’m working with and what makes yea think I’ll trust “I ain’t gonna hurt yea” with muscles like those”

“You think I’d hit a woman?”

“It’s the apocalypse. If laws don’t exist, neither does moral code. I follow them still…but still”

“I don’t hit women.” Daryl scoffs. “How do yea fit in there?”

“I don’t know you well enough to share my skills. But I do feel a little better knowing you’re not gonna throw a left hook at my face” the woman began to fully pull herself out of the container and when she stepped out, she locked eyes with the archer’s confused yet curious ones. “Okay I trust you about not killing me but why haven’t you left?”

“Gonna ask yea a few things if that’s okay with you”

“Sure I guess” She put the lid back on the box before taking a seat and crossing her arms.

“How many walkers have you killed?”

“Lost count a long time ago”

“How many people have you killed?”

“Four”

“Why?”

The woman went silent for a moment and avoided eye contact as she held herself. “They were my friends, and brother who were about to turn. They didn’t want to be taken out as a walker and didn’t want to become one so. You know…”

“I do” Daryl leaned against one of the shelves. “It’s hard to take someone you care about out after they’ve changed”

“Getting deep with me and we don’t even know each other’s name”

“Daryl”

“Y/N”

Then she joined their group right then and there. The others that came with Daryl liked her, didn’t trust her right away but given her attitude immediately when it came to them asking the same questions Daryl asked—-both Glenn and Michonne knew that they will grow to trust her. Same with the others. Returning back to the prison with a lot more than they had expected helped the initial image of the new comer. Y/N hoarded a lot of stuff so thinking that she would survive alone in there.

Some part of Daryl wanted Y/N to take the empty cell in their cellblock but given he didn’t speak up and Rick showed her one of the others, that wasn’t happening.

But she was very involved with helping around the prison.

“You good up there Y/N?” Rick calls out to her receiving a thumbs up while she continued to work with fixing part of the fence that disconnected from the gate.

The retired sheriff watches his brother pull in on his bike but stop to watch Y/N a moment. She dropped her wire cutters and as it hit the grass, Daryl hopped off his bike about to grab it when he quickly took a step back when Y/N jumped down somersaulting in the dirt.

“The hell is wrong with you?!” Daryl shouted as Y/N stood up immediately, stretching her back after her action. “Yea could’ve cracked your head open!”

“I’ve done it a million times before. Don’t worry your pretty little head”

“A million times? What, in the circus?”

“How did you know?” Y/N smiles catching him off guard at first and even more when she broke out in laughter. “I wasn’t in the circus dumbass. I’ve done a lot of risky stuff and…gymnastics. But what just happened is nothing compared to other stuff” she states while throwing herself back so she was then in a bridged position and Daryl watched her upper half lay flat on its stomach showing her crawl between her legs and hold her ankles. Exorcist shit.

“Now I think you’re an alien”

“Rude” Y/N scoffs as such action was a bit uncomfortable given her twisted position. “It definitely impressed and freaked out a few hook ups”

Now that led Rick to leave from overhearing their conversation, both knowing damn well he was there. He opened the gate once Y/N was back in the upright position and Daryl was still left appalled somewhat.

Y/N was definitely making a good impression on most. Has been on every run that was planned and no one opposed, she’s especially useful in tight situations.

“Alright, so I was thinking we break down the door and then—-“ Tyreese cut himself off when Y/N gestured for Maggie’s help to hoist her up and she happily obliged.

Next thing the group knew, Y/N was pushing herself through the small window above the locked door landing on the other side and unlocking it.

“Or that” Sasha chimes in with a laugh and smile, impressed by the woman. “Now we don’t have to almost break ourselves to get into places” she walked past her as Y/N brushes off some of the dirt checking her person carefully. Said actions didn’t go unnoticed by Daryl.

After a couple hours passed, the four returned to the prison and dispersed but as Daryl stuck by his bike a moment he noticed Y/N straggling a bit. She stood for a while glancing around and turned to Daryl with a questioning look before turning away.

“If yea need something, you can ask” He didn’t hesitate as Y/N slumped in defeat before turning around and approaching him.

“Crack my back”

“What?” Daryl scoffs confused as he wiped the grime off his hands with his rag. “How am I supposed to do that?”

“Imma turn around cross my arms and you’re going to wrap your arms around me then lean back until a crack is heard.” Y/N explained in the most layman terms she could think of and it clicked instantly to Daryl but he hesitated a moment.

“Is that what yea want?”

“Yes, well. What I really want is someone to step on my back but all of y’all aren’t trained to do that and back in the day I had a friend who was a masseuse.”

“Well, I’ll do my best” Daryl grunts bringing himself over after tossing his rag on his bike watching her turn around and do what she had to do before he wrapped his arms around her. “Just lean back holding yea?”

“Yup” Y/N felt a sudden warmth rise in her chest when she was being lifted and the heat came clear in her cheeks expressing more of a red hue.

She heard the crack a bit ago but they both just. Stood there and it went from Daryl holding her to them both holding each other. Still Y/N’s back against his chest but her arms held onto his. Daryl relaxed setting her down but the way he held her for much longer and Y/N didn’t show any sign of letting go.

There was something

When the illness washed through the prison and a few were sent to get the medicine, Y/N found herself in the doorway watching Bob shove alcohol into his bag. He turned toward her realizing she was there and instead of talking first, he quickly took a bottle and threw it in her direction watching her quickly fall back then swing her body back forward.

“Jesus fucking Christ what are you? One of those inflatable car sales string cheese looking things?!”

“That’s very descriptive. Are you gonna be the same way when telling me why you have a goddamn bag of alcohol and not medicine to save our people”

“Oh for fucks sake! You and I are the newest people at the prison and you’re willing to bend over backwards—-even literally—-for people you barely know”

“So?!”

“SO?!” Bob shouted which caught another’s attention, Michonne as the conversation ended the second she joined. Bob brushed past her as she quickly gave a concerned look to Y/N.

I’m fine. Was all Y/N gave her as she stepped out.

Of course the booze was found out by Daryl and that was a more explosive mess to address than when Y/N first confronted him. But it all stopped mattering when they finally got their medicine into their people.

After getting their medicine in, Daryl went in search for Y/N who disappeared after they did such. It didn’t take long to find her because she was in her cell but she was alone in the old Woodbury cell block. Because of the outbreak.

“You alright?” Daryl asks Y/N even if she was currently hiding under her deconstructed bunk.

“Yeah”

“Don’t look like it”

A few seconds of silence. “Yeah…” she sounded defeated and pulls her entire self out from under bringing herself to sit on her bed. Daryl bringing himself to sit with her leaning his back against the wall.

“You can trust me, with whatever is on your mind”

“It’s strange…how easily it was for Bob to just. Not care about the others in the heat of the moment”

“Some people are just like that. Somethin’ or someone has to change them”

“I used to be like that. Not a warm caring person when this thing first started. I just. Had moments that changed me”

“Yeah?” Daryl gave her a questioning look that she noticed in the corner of her eye. “What changed yea?”

“Having to end the lives of people I cared for, the ones who got bit. When…” Y/N hesitated a second before looking at Daryl. “When I met you”

She’s full of surprises isn’t she? Daryl could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he never felt that feeling before.

But this moment was short lived like the many that followed after.

Until they found themselves alone weeks later…in a new place, with strange new people. Y/N stuck by Daryl’s side since they first entered Alexandria and given how the archer was feeling from all the loss, he would find himself following her if she were to stray or disappear from his side for too long.

“Can you hand me the socket wrench?” Daryl asks while under the car Aaron drives for recruiting as he was asked to check something out for the man. Y/N being there to help in any way even if it is just handing tools to the archer.

Y/N was currently repairing one of the angel wings on Daryl’s vest which led her to using her leg to reach toward the bench then her foot hooked onto the handle of the tool box. She then carefully bent so that she could grasp the box with her hands and go through the kit for what he asked for.

“Damn”

The annoyingly familiar voice caught both of their attentions as Daryl pushes out on the skateboard sitting up to look at Spencer confused. Y/N equally confused on the matter while handing the tool over.

“You know I saw you the other day doing your…morning stretches or whatever. Didn’t think you’d be THAT flexible…and limber…” Spencer was starting, or continuing to make Y/N uncomfortable as he starts to check her out making her cover herself with Daryl’s vest in her lap.

Daryl quickly taking note of the reaction and glaring at the man. “Beat it”

“I wasn’t talking to you” Spencer brushed him off keeping his attention on Y/N. “I bet you’re even more flexible in more intimate situations”

Y/N scoffs instantly but before she could bite the guy’s head off. She felt herself being pulled toward Daryl’s direction. Daryl having grabbed the blanket she was seated on pulling it closer to him so he could protectively wrap his arm around her shoulders as she instinctively leaned into him.

“She’s taken. Now I’d fuck off and bother somebody else before your mommy sees her little boy’s face smashed the fuck in” Daryl threats and didn’t let his guard down but it got Spencer to storm off defeated. “What a tool”

“He’s not wrong about something”

“Huh?”

“I am very flexible when we’re intimate” Y/N laughs slightly catching her own boyfriend off guard resulting in the red hue rising in his cheeks.

[hispg]

Between royalty and vows

Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.

In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.

Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.

Wouldn't it?

Wc:2.4k

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one sided love, affairs, (I'll put more once things starts to progress).

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

An: So, initially I was going to post the other fanfic I did with Fuckboy! Leon, but I thought it was bad and decided not to post it for now. But I still have plans for it.

I intend to do several chapters on this fic(I'm sucker for royalty AU), I don't know exactly how many but I plan to do more than 10 or 15, since I have a lot of stuff I want to put in. Most of them are not comforting.

This is a thank you to the 200 followers, which by the way is almost 300 by now. I'd like to genuinely thank each and every one of you<3 And I hope you enjoy this story, because I'm genuinely excited about it.

Prologue

Royalty wasn't for everyone, that much was obvious to those who already lived in this reality. A world of appearances where everything was perfect, people, everyday life, relationships. But that was a facade, the reality took place between closed doors.

It was never clean, the backstabbing behind the king's back, the betrayals, the lust that hid behind the elaborate and sophisticated costumes. But in the end, what mattered was how beautiful that royal family was to its subjects, honor being a crucial element to maintain.

Faced with all this, the Italian prince, Leon, was well aware of the dynasty's sacrifices. He was already aware of his duty, and knew that at some point his life would take a completely different turn from what he had expected. As the only heir, he knew that it wouldn't be long before his father wanted him to marry, after all, he had to carry on the line. The honor of the kingdom had to continue, and he was the only one who could.

Although he already knew that the burden of succession would come to him one day, he just didn't expect it to be so soon.

Leon was a man known for his accomplishments, despite his young age he was a brave man, as well as the incomparable beauty he contained. Sharp features, a piercing blue gaze, a prince who wasn't afraid to speak his mind. He had a unique authenticity.

Yet he still couldn't fit in with his surroundings. His eyes staring at the chandelier, seeing how decorated everything in the castle was. Seeing the expensive clothes of each of the invited guests, the glittering dresses of the ladies who were there. He watched the people walking around the hall, seeing how comfortable they were in that situation.

But not him.

The evening was planned to be perfect, days and weeks of planning went into making this great event happen. All the most important royals were present at the castle, from the most prestigious dukes and duchesses to other kings and queens.

Today was the day that the Italian prince, Leon, would be presented to his future wife. He was the rightful heir, the next to rule his own kingdom. That's why the ballroom was perfect, every last detail thought of and worked on to create the perfect occasion.

To show off the future rulers of the country. The next ones who would take care of that kingdom and prosper it. It was a more than necessary moment to demonstrate the future couple.

Despite all the sophistication and dedication that the queen put into the celebration, Leon didn't seem to be at all excited or happy about the situation. He was sitting in one of the royal chairs, taking small sips of the most expensive wine, his expression sullen and bitter.

He didn't ask for any of this.

The day when the fates of two royals would cross, intertwine and become one. A marriage that would unite them, a commitment that once made could not be broken.

If he was being honest, he didn't even want to be a prince. This royal life didn't suit him, all these comforts and perks that didn't seem to fit in with anything he liked. A forced life, just because he was born into this family.

From where he was sitting, he could see you coming. The beautiful British princess, dressed in the most expensive of dresses, hair tied up in a bun. The ornaments that shone on you, as well as the enchanting smile that could melt even the hardest heart. At that point, all eyes were on you, curious and expectant. Everyone there was close to the soon-to-be queen.

Admiring your features, he couldn't deny that you were beautiful. Your sweet features, your face that exuded the purest grace and youth. Your way of walking that seemed to make you flutter with every step.

Still, you weren't her. You weren't the woman he loved. The only one capable of bringing a genuine smile to the skeptical man he was.

You weren't Ashley Graham, the princess he had fallen madly in love with. The one with whom he had sworn several vows of love, the one with whom he had promised to spend the rest of his life.

And there he was, preparing to marry another woman. One he didn't even know, or have any proximity to, and even worse, to marry a woman he didn't love. No matter how much he protested this to his father, nothing he said was listened to.

'You're going to marry her, whether you like it or not.' Words that still echoed in his head, and seeing how close this marriage was, he felt the weight of the situation on his back.

Yes, he had always known that this moment would come. His duty as a prince, to follow what was prescribed. What fate was supposed to have in store for him, even if he didn't believe in it.

But all his thoughts vanish once he hears a sweet voice calling him:

"Your Highness." The tender feminine voice coming from your lips, along with the elegant curtsy you made.

He blinked a few times, holding back a sigh out of politeness. Like the gentleman he was, he rose from his seat, returning the bow to you.

"Good to see you here, Your Highness." He says courteously, even if it's a lie. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was keep up appearances.

It was hard not to notice the prince's beauty, his handsome and charming face, his eyes the lightest shade of blue you'd ever seen. His blond hair was just as captivating. No wonder he was one of the most desired.

You felt lucky to be the woman who would marry him, even though you knew that the prince already had someone else in his heart. Rumors spread fast, especially when it came to a family as important as his. But magically things remained under wraps, even though the suspicions of this secret relationship were well-founded.

You always knew that like most marriages, you wouldn't marry someone you were in love with. But you still had a glimmer of hope that you could make him like you, at least a little bit. You hated to think that maybe your marriage was a ruin like all the others.

Love and royalty didn't go together, yet you wanted to try and make it something unique.

"Would you like a dance?" Leon asks, snapping you out of your deep trance of thoughts.

You nodded with a polite smile, holding his warm hand as he led you into the middle of the hall. The classical music that echoed through the space, as other people danced and celebrated, gave the place a joyful atmosphere.

As soon as you were in the middle of the ballroom, all eyes were on you. With a gentle kiss on your gloved hand, he bowed and began to dance with you.

One hand on your back, the other intertwined with yours, your bodies very close, your faces almost touching.

His feet moved in sync with yours, both of you moving gracefully. Whirling around the ballroom. The two of you waltzing all over the place, keeping smiles and gentle glances for each other. Acting as if you were a couple in love, making silent vows. His eyes not leaving yours for a minute, his hand briefly squeezing yours, the moment seemed magical. In a way you never imagined it could be.

His cologne filling your nostrils, the heat emanating from his body. Everything about him seemed to draw your attention, as if it were a temptation.

You could feel your heart beating fast, the butterflies in your stomach that showed your clear nervousness. But still you didn't stumble once, your grace and elegance being whispered about among the guests.

His eyes staring into yours, a slight smile at the corner of his lips. This dance was a demonstration of the cooperation between the two countries, the union that was about to take place. A reason to be honored.

Despite the delicacy of the moment, the fluidity with which you danced, the mesmerizing sophistication of your movements. The way your dress dragged across the floor and danced with you. The passionate look you insisted on seeing in him.

You knew it was a lie. A damn lie.

It was confirmed once you saw his eyes light up, the outline of a sincere smile forming on his lips. At first you thought it was directed at you, but that feeling was crushed when you decided to take a look back.

There she was, the breathtaking Highness Graham, the blonde who had captured Leon's heart. The girl who wore a delicate white dress, with sophisticated and expensive accessories, enhancing her beauty. She stood among the others, just admiring him with a beautiful smile.

She knew she had his heart in the palm of her hand, so she couldn't feel the slightest bit jealous of you. He belonged to her.

You felt it in the way he admired her, in the way he looked at her in a way you couldn't even dream of. He was hopelessly in love, to the point where he even forgot you were standing in front of him. His body just moved on automatic, as if his focus was only on Ashley, only on her.

Although you wanted to pull back a little, you couldn't. The waltz wasn't over yet, it was a tradition, and you had to go until the music stopped. You couldn't help but feel a pang in your heart, the feeling that you had already lost a battle that hadn't even begun.

Nobody said you could have his heart.

As he twirls with you, he seems to focus his attention on you once again. Just for a brief moment, he was smart, he knew he couldn't give too much leeway for other rumors to spread around.

It was imaginable that the marriage would be a failure, since both kingdoms only saw it as an opportunity to increase business. However, you didn't expect to get this response so quickly.

Destined for an unreachable man, who was so close and yet so far away. How cruel could fate be?

And so you continued, keeping up the play of a couple in love, dancing and waltzing around the room. His gaze shifting between you and her, just as his expression changed with every glance. For one he gave a polite smile, for the other he gave a genuine one.

And you already knew who was who in the story.

After what seemed like an eternity, the waltz was over. You are presented with a round of applause, whistles and sincere words of approval for your union.

This while you waved and smiled, then bowed to each other, a sign of respect from both sides. As well as showing your gratitude to each other for the opportunity to dance. Etiquette and tradition, which you were following to the letter.

As soon as the applause stopped, Leon held out his arm for you to take, so that he could guide you to the place where the king would give a speech about the future marriage.

Consequently, you and Leon would officially become engaged. There were many looks on both of your faces, so many that you couldn't even count.

One in particular caught your eye, the same woman who had captured Leon's attention earlier, Ashley Graham.

The subtle smile, which was soon reciprocated by Leon, although discreet, you were able to perceive this small exchange between them. You couldn't deny the lump that was forming in your throat as you tried to let the situation sink into your head, that you would at least understand how it would go on.

As you walked through the great hall, stepping on the expensive marble, making your way to where the king would make his pronouncement. Walking through the crowd of distinguished guests who were there.

You noticed him looking at you from the corner of his eye, as if he were analyzing you from head to toe. It wasn't as if he was judging you or anything, it seemed more like the look of someone who wanted to look at his future wife, as if he was thinking about how things would be from now on.

Which you didn't even know what it would be like, either.

It wasn't long before you arrived at the King's chambers, a polished and expensive place, you could feel the sophistication of his throne just by looking at it. The place was perfectly tidy, the carpet had no fuss at all, perfectly done. Every butler and waiter duly took their places, bowing as you walked.

It seemed that the king had already started his speech, but he hadn't gotten to the important part yet. First, he had to give a statement to those attending the event, nothing more than a courtesy to them for being there, as well as reinforcing his duty to his kingdom, and to each of his subjects.

A while later, the king stood up, raised a glass of wine and said loud and clear:

"Tonight is a special night," then his gaze falls on the two of you, and he smiles broadly, "My heir, my only son is going to marry."

Despite the obvious, a round of applause echoed around the room, whistles and compliments. Which caused you and Leon to smile at each other, acting as if the happiness was genuine, as if you weren't two unacquainted people about to get married.

As soon as Leon's father saw the general reaction, he raised his glass and said, "Cheers."

Enough for another wave of loud sounds and murmurs from people. They seemed to be very happy about the future of the kingdom.

Leon then gave you a hug around the waist, swirling you in the air. Even his smile changed, and you believed even for a second that it was real.

"We'll be happy," Leon murmurs, loud enough for the people around you to hear and giggle at the new couple.

"Yes, of course." You say with a sweetness in your voice, buying his conversation. Deep down you wanted it to be real, but you knew the shadow that stood between the two of you.

It was a lie, a facade, and maybe it would never be real.

[dreamauri]

𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 - part four ┇୧ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ :🪴: ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ୨୧ ╮ ┇arranged marriage does not always hold ┇the outcome you expect !! ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊   ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max vertsappen  x  wife! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( romance )  ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠song — ( link ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠word count — ( 982 ) ╰  🌿 :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )

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"Yeah, to be honest I'm a little bit scared." You chuckled as you got out of the car with Max. The blond didn't waste anytime going around and holding your hand. You two have been doing that for a while, it was comforting. And although it was just simple, holding hands, it was helping a lot with your relationship.

"Why? I wont let the media bother you." Sure this would be your first time in public public with Max. Everyone knows that he got married but they don't know to who. This would be your first official appearance as his wife. People are going to take pictures, write articles about you, they might antagonize or judge your every move and mistake.

But what scared you more is watching your husband go in a miniature Rocketship, driving 250 kph around the tight circuit of Monaco, which you could've just watched from your balcony. But no. Max wanted you here. And here you will be.

You stuck close to him the entire morning. Either holding the back of his shirt or sitting in the back of the garage. The only alone time you did get was 30 minutes before race prep, sitting with him in his driver's room.

"I'm scared." You said again, slumping your back in the chair. Max looked furrowing his eyebrows taken aback. Since he was used to getting in the car every weekend. He didn't really understand your fear. "What if you crash? Or you get caught in a crash or— I don't even want to think about it." You groaned, leaning your face in your hands.

"Mijn liefje," [my love] He got on his knees in front of you, gently pulling your hands from your face. "I'm gonna be fine." He tried to assure you but you shook your head quickly. What if you weren't a lucky charm. What if you were the complete opposite?!

"Hey! Hey. Relax. I'll be fine." He kissed your cheek sitting beside you and pulling you into a side hug. "But if something happens? I don't want you to get hurt." it was surly a pleasant surprise, you initiating a hug. Max liked it, for sure (you're his wife). The embrace was warm and calming. You didn't want to let go.

"If something happens . . ." He tried to think of something, something that would comfort you. He wrapped his arms around your hack and rubbed it gently.

"I'll do whatever you want. For a month." "Max!" "What?! het is een redelijk goede deal." [it's a pretty good deal]

At least he got you to laugh it off.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Kiss." Max told you as he went to take his helmet off.

Kiss?! Infront of everyone?! Max Verstappen you are crazy.

Max made a 'mmmmuah' sound as he pressed his lips to yours softly. Sure that was one way to celebrate a win, BUT NOT WITH THE WHOLE WORLD WATCHING!! You felt flustered.

Everyone was looking at you and you could only look at max who was held your hand softly at you whilst he chatted with his mechanics and team principle.

He was all flushed and sweaty, that soft, yet cute smile on his face as he used his hands to 'maxplain'. You couldn't help the chuckle that left your mouth. You wrapped your arm around his, leaning your head on his shoulder. And you stayed like that until Max had to leave for the podium.

The minutes the top 3 spend in the cool down room felt too long but it was all worth it once you heard his name be called to the stage. Hearing the Dutch anthem gave you a sense of pride as you watched max. You even pulled your phone out to record him receive his trophy and the blond even waved to the camera.

"its heavier than I thought." you chuckled quietly once you got to hold the trophy. Max laughed with you, putting a hand on your opposite shoulder, watching you admire the prize. "It's for you." He kissed your temple. You couldn't help but smile and giggle like a child, kissing your husband on his lips.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"There she is." You smiled as you neared max with the two drinks he asked for. You could tell he was already drunk as he pulled you to sit on his lap, not even bothering to take the glass of whisky out of your hands so he can wrap his arms around your waist and drink from your hand.

"Oh- sorry. Gorge, this is my lovely wife. Lovely wife, this is gorge." He pointed between the driver sitting on the couch with you. The conversation went on and you got to meet other drivers along with their wives or girlfriends.

The night ended after a game of beer pong and soon very tipsy you and drunk max was dancing mindlessly and very off tune on the balcony.

"nooit geweten dat ik met Angel getrouwd was." [i never knew I was married to angel] You giggled slightly at his words, sloppily sharing a sweet kiss. Your hand was in his hair and the other on his cheek. The moment was perfect, the moon was only light you need to see his eyes. The way he held you, the way he looked at you. You could swear you were going to melt each time he said your name quietly.

click

You frowned turning around to see where the flash of white light had come from. You were sure you heard a camera click and women giggle but your eyes found nothing.

"nee nee, mijn lieveling. blijf bij mij." [no no, my darling. stay with me] Max held you from your chin, pulling you back into the kiss with a satisfied hum.

"ik deel je mening." [im with you] You nodded wrapping your arms around his neck.

[iseos]

: RULE OF THIRDS

library. p. bf!lee heeseung x f!r x (platonic) nishimura riki s. three times it was you, your boyfriend…and niki g. fluff wc. 993 © iseos

YOU LEANED AGAINST THE CART, watching heeseung have an internal debate trying to decide which of two types of cereal to buy. the group had designated him to be the one to buy groceries for the dorm and he brought you with him to help. except, you weren't the only one to accompany him to the store; niki took it upon himself to join you both, much to heeseung's dismay.

he eventually picked one and placed it in the cart just as niki came bounding into the aisle with something in his hand. he holds it up for you both to see; it's a brightly colored pack of candy.

"can i get this?" he asks.

heeseung responded flatly, "no."

but almost simultaneously, you waved your hand dismissively and said, "sure, whatever."

maybe your voice overpowered his, or niki just chose to ignore heeseung completely, but the younger boy tosses the bag into the cart with a happy smile and walks away again.

"we aren't buying this," heeseung huffs, reaching into the cart and placing the candy on a nearby shelf. you scoff at his behavior but don't protest.

heeseung continued to shop with you by his side as mental support while niki wandered around elsewhere in the store, occasionally picking up snacks that caught his attention, but ultimately putting them back.

at one point, while you and heeseung were scanning the shelves in another aisle, niki snuck up behind you both and put his original candy back in the cart when you weren't looking.

once the shopping list had been fully crossed off, you made your way to the checkout registers; niki eventually returning as well—still empty-handed.

you couldn't help but laugh seeing the colorful package again amongst the other groceries. once the cashier scanned it, you sneakily handed the candy off to niki instead of putting it in the bag.

with all of the items paid for and bagged (well, most of them at least), the three of you finally left the store and niki ripped open the packet with a happy smile as he walked a few steps behind you through the parking lot.

you and heeseung were by the front door, getting ready to go out to dinner, when you called out through the dorm for niki. the older boy furrowed his eyebrows at you, clearly taken aback.

"what are you doing?" he inquired, to which you just shrugged as you continued focusing on putting your shoes on.

"well, earlier he mentioned that he hadn't really eaten yet today," you finally stand up straight, "so i thought he could come with us."

although heeseung had initially expected it to be just the two of you, he couldn't argue with your thoughtful gesture. with a nod, he agreed, allowing a small smile to creep onto his face.

once the youngest boy finally emerged from his room, fully dressed and excitement visible on his face, the now-three of you left the dorm together.

at the restaurant, you sat across from your boyfriend, like usual, and niki quickly slid into the seat next to you. heeseung couldn't help but roll his eyes at the ease with which niki had become a part of your outing.

heeseung watched from across the table how you and niki playfully elbowed each other with each bite of your food or during conversations. he rolled his eyes lightheartedly at the ease with which niki had always joined your outings together.

while he was grateful for the bond you had created with his fellow members, he couldn’t help but wish he could spend more time with just the two of you. it seemed that finding time together, away from everyone else, is easier said than done.

wanting to indulge in your boyfriend's hobbies, you agreed to play video games with him, so the two of you had taken over the living room for most of the day.

you were settled on the couch, absentmindedly using your phone while heeseung went to get more snacks for you both from the kitchen.

when niki walked out of his room and saw the tv screen showing the game's main menu and the unoccupied controller on the table, he couldn't stop himself from moving toward it. before you could even register what was happening, niki had taken heeseung's once-vacant spot beside you.

you looked up from your phone to the boy who was staring at you expectantly, "yes, niki?"

"wanna bet on who's better at this game?" he asked.

you raised your eyebrow, intrigued by niki’s challenge, “sure,” you chuckled, “but be prepared to lose; i’ve gotten really good at this game.” the younger boy laughed at you as you both picked up the controllers and began playing.

it wasn't long before heeseung returned to the living room. he was slightly confused when he turned the sounds of the game resuming from the kitchen, but he thought you accidentally pressed a button. however, he could only sigh when he came back to see you and niki with your attention focused on the tv screen.

silently acknowledging the new seating arrangement, heeseung sat down on the other side of you since niki had taken his original seat.

as he watched the two of you play, niki was noticeably better at the game than you. heeseung leaned against you, whispering tips quietly into your ear occasionally.

once the round finished, you and heeseung both jumped out of your seats, arms raised in the air before you hugged each other while niki sprawled dramatically across the couch, whining in defeat, “rematch! rematch! you’ve been playing for a while already, that was just my warm-up!”

heeseung immediately shut him down, “nope, you lost. now leave me alone with my girlfriend.”

niki just let out a dramatic huff as he lazily sat up and dragged himself back into his room, muttering to himself the whole way about how he should’ve gotten a rematch.