#i only just figured out i lost them yesterday and i wanted to wait a bit to see if i could find them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lilacmingi · 2 days ago

Text

ORNAMENT ODYSSEY

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. And please don’t spam-like!

Pairing: Santa!Jongho x fem reader

Word count: 10,300

Note: MERRY CHRISTMAS!! This was supposed to be ready yesterday but I got stuck. If anything seems rushed, I’m sorry. I wanted to get this up by Christmas. Anyway this idea came to me in late November. Very last minute haha. Reader finds a strange ornament and after accidentally breaking it, she’s transported to the North Pole where she meets Jongho who doesn’t look anything like the Santa Claus she was told about as a child 👀

A consistent gust of warm air hit your frozen fingers as you tapped them rhythmically against the steering wheel to a Christmas song playing on the radio, your mood had brightened significantly due to your job giving you a full week off for the holidays. You'd just finished your last day of work before the break began and you couldn't wait to get home to take full advantage of your free time. There was so much you could do: catch up on the shows you'd postponed starting, do some last-minute Christmas shopping, bake some delicious holiday treats, or reconnect with your inner child and do some fun festive crafts. There was always the option to do absolutely nothing too.

Your fingers extended, pleased to feel that they'd warmed up under the steady gust of heat from the vents in your vehicle, a small sigh of relief expelling from your lips.

The commute home was an enjoyable one, your tires coming to a slow rolling stop in the driveway, the engine dying out when you pulled the key from the ignition. Shouldering your bag, you stepped out of the car and walked to the mailbox, pulling open the small door to find a newspaper, junk mail, and a Christmas card from a relative. Collecting the items inside, you tucked them under your arm and started towards your house, slowing to a stop when an object on the ground caught your eye, something you didn't notice before you left for work in a rush that morning. You stepped closer to find an ornament at the edge of your yard amidst the blades of dried grass.

"Hm." You hummed, reaching down to pluck the glass sphere from the ground to examine it. Inside was a crystal snowflake that almost seemed to hover in the hollow space inside the little globe. It was mesmerizing and captured your attention for a few seconds as you tried to figure out what sort of string could've been used to create such an illusion. A sudden gust of wintry air passed, breaking your trance and making you wince. Your eyes briefly swept the area, trying to figure out who could've dropped such a stunning holiday ornament and where it came from. For all you knew, it could've fallen out of a passing car or out of a bag someone was carrying down the street, though it's a miracle it didn't break during its drop... wherever it came from.

Clutching the ornament in your free hand, you started towards the front door, unlocking it and stepping inside, shivering from the chilly outdoor air, the heat inside welcoming you like a cozy blanket.

You dropped your mail onto the coffee table along with the peculiar ornament and went to your room to hang up your bag and change into some looser, more comfortable clothes. Your feet, now donning a pair of cozy boots to wear around the house, shuffled back into the living room where you picked up the glass orb containing the crystal snowflake. You'd never seen anything like it before and felt bad for whoever had lost it. Chances of finding that person were slim, as many people drove through your town and tracking down the owner would be almost impossible. Besides, it was just an ornament.

Scanning your fully decorated Christmas tree, you searched for a place to hang the new addition, finding a bare spot near the top part of the artificial evergreen. A tiny grunt left your lips as your arm stretched towards the peak, gently sliding the ornament over a branch, stepping back to admire it.

Just as you went to sit down and begin your well-deserved holiday break, the ornament, having not been hung properly, dropped from the branch, tumbling from limb to limb down the extent of your tree before shattering on the floor, sending broken glass scattering along the hardwood.

Before you could bend down to start cleaning up the mess, the shards and fragments materialized into shimmer that started to slowly swirl around the floor.

"Oh no. Oh no. Oh no." You panicked, stumbling back as a gaping hole started opening up in your living room where the ornament had shattered, a raging swirl of white and icy blue sank into the floor and created a tunnel going far beyond your comprehension.

How was this happening?

You tried scrambling away, but a gust of wind started pulling you towards the pit. The speed at which the portal opened was too fast for your retreating movements and a scream ripped from your throat when you fell down into the floor, practically being sucked in.

A blur of blue and white moved past your line of vision, making your head throb. It was too much for you; the sensation of plummeting paired with your panic and the disorienting colors was so overwhelming that you began feeling faint. Your throat burned from the abrasive scream that came out and your chest ached from how violently your heart rammed against it. A feeling of lethargy hit you like a ton of bricks as you made your descent, your eyelids becoming heavy. You were about to pass out. The battle to keep your eyes open was lost in a single second, your body shutting down completely from shock.

You groaned softly as you slipped back into consciousness, the feeling of velvet under your fingers and an ache in your back that made you wince. Every limb felt like lead, weighing you down, your muscles riddled with weakness. As soon as your eyes cracked open, you were met with a flash of vibrant red underneath you, your head tilting down to find that you were laid across a couch—a red one.

What happened?

You blinked the spots out of your vision, catching sight of a pair of glossy black loafers attached to the legs of someone standing by the couch. Your eyes following up the body of whoever was watching you.

The man that stood before you was clad in a crisp red suit with a white dress shirt underneath. His black bangs were tousled lightly along his forehead, his soft chocolatey eyes gazing down at you, head tilted slightly.

"Well, hello." He greeted, his voice smooth like silk.

"Who are you?" You asked, sitting upright and rubbing your head.

"Jongho, but most know me as Santa."

You blinked incredulously, brows furrowed.

"I'm sorry? Santa?"

"Yep."

"But Santa is—"

"Fat? Old?" He finished for you.

You nodded, feeling a little sheepish.

He merely chuckled, not bothered by your assumption. "You don't think one Santa can take care of the whole world, do you?"

"That's... how the story goes."

Jongho chuckled heartily. "No. There's Santas all around." He gesticulated in the air.

"Where am I?"

"The North Pole, or at least my personal North Pole. There's multiple of those too."

You shook your head, letting out a huff of disbelief. "No. That's not possible."

"Why? Don't believe in Santa?"

"Not since I was a kid."

"Ah, so you're too old for those kinds of things, is that it, Y/n?"

Your brows furrowed. "How do you know my name?"

"Santa knows everyone's names." He responded simply.

"This can't be real. I've hit my head or something."

"I had you checked out. You have no signs of any head injuries."

"Then I'm dreaming."

"You're not dreaming. You landed here through a portal. How? Humans aren't supposed to have access to this realm."

A portal.

Your mind had finally cleared enough to recall the last thing that happened before you blacked out.

"An ornament."

Jongho's expression shifted into a more serious one, letting you know that what you said held significance. "What kind of ornament?"

"A glass one."

"With a crystal snowflake inside?" He added.

"Y-yes. How'd you know?"

Jongho sighed, moving over to his desk, pulling out a notebook, flipping through sheets of paper, his finger dragging down what you assumed was a list. He closed the notebook with a sharp snap and reached for a glossy green announcement microphone on his desk, pulling it over to speak into it.

"I need to see San and Wooyoung in my office."

You looked to Jongho for answers to unasked questions.

Moments later, the frosted glass door to the room opened up and two men donning green button down silk shirts and black pants stepped inside, each one with a noticeable set of pointed ears.

Elves?

The one with glossy black hair styled into a mullet turned to look at you, his eyes widening. The man beside him with shorter black hair leaned forward a bit to peer past his companion at you.

"Oh. Hello."

"San." Jongho spoke up, causing the second elf to stand upright.

"Yes?"

"I want you both to tell me what happened yesterday."

The duo shared a puzzled expression.

"Our job?" The one named San responded.

"You two went to scope out a neighborhood yesterday. What happened?"

They both stiffened at the tone in their boss' voice. They knew when he meant business.

"We went to count houses and figure out the best places for you to land on the big night." Wooyoung spoke up. "That's it."

"You dropped your ornament." Jongho stated.

San turned to Wooyoung with an expression of frustration, his brows creased so intensely that two lines became visible between his eyes.

"I told him we needed to go, but Wooyoung just had to do a few tricks."

"I didn't know it fell!" The other elf argued.

"Well, it did and look what happened." Jongho gestured to you.

All you could do was stare, shifting uncomfortably on the velvet couch after being the center of attention.

"She was found lying in the snow right inside the entry gates." Jongho explained further.

"I'm sorry." Wooyoung apologized. "I tried looking for it before we left, but I couldn't find it. It was too dark out."

"Yeah and I had to use mine to get us back home." San added, glaring at him.

A prolonged silence stretched out across the room before you broke it.

"You can get me back home though... right?" You looked back and forth between the three of them, your eyes landing on Jongho for a response.

San and Wooyoung's expressions said it all before Jongho even uttered a word. Getting you home wouldn't be an easy task.

"I'm sorry. Each elf gets one ornament to transport them back here after they're done scoping the neighborhood. There are no extras."

Your expression fell at Jongho's explanation.

"Surely there's another way. What if one of your elves loses one like last night?"

"That's why everyone goes in pairs, so there's a backup."

"And we have watches as a last resort!" San piped up, showing off the futuristic-looking tech strapped to his wrist. "We can call headquarters and have them bring us in."

"Couldn't you do that for me?" You turned to Jongho. "Y'know, get someone to open up the portal and get me back?"

"It doesn't work that way. If you want to return home, you'll have to wait until Christmas Eve. The portal can be opened when I make my rounds and I can take you back home then."

"But that's al most a week away!" You exclaimed.

Wooyoung opened his mouth to say something, earning a sharp warning glare from Jongho that caused him to stay silent. This went unnoticed by you.

"I know it's not ideal, but look on the bright side." Jongho stated. "You get to spend Christmas week at the North Pole. Not many people can say that."

Not ideal indeed, but he had a point. Of course you were bummed about the circumstances you found yourself in, but there wasn't anything that could be done. You were stuck there.

"Let me get your sleeping arrangements in order." Jongho reached for the green announcement mic again, speaking into it. "Yeosang, I need you in my office, please." He pulled away and turned to address you. "There's a cabin by the workshop that you can stay in for the week."

This was all so much to take in: Santa, elves, the North Pole, the fact that you were going to be stuck there. All you could manage was a nod in response. What else were you supposed to do? You didn't have a choice but to accept your circumstances.

The soft click of the door to the office announced the presence of who you assumed was Yeosang. He donned the same silk green shirt as San and Wooyoung and a set of pointed ears stuck out from his brown hair.

"You wanted to see me?" His voice was smooth and deeper than you would've assumed just based on his appearance.

"Could you take our special guest to the empty cabin next door?" Jongho gestured to you, Yeosang's eyes following.

"Oh." He blinked, visibly taken aback by the presence of a human at the North Pole. "Of course. Follow me."

You got to your feet and walked over, the fatigue in your limbs still present from losing consciousness earlier. You did your best to shake it off, quietly passing Jongho and the two elves whose eyes followed you all the way to the door.

A look of awe crossed your features as soon as you stepped outside the office, your hands coming to rest on the railing of the second floor overlooking the scene below. Before you was a vast workshop filled with stations and machines, the layered sounds of assembling floating in the air as hundreds of elves worked to create and wrap gifts.

"This... is real?" You breathed out in disbelief.

"It is." Yeosang confirmed. "Must be hard to wrap your head around since you're an adult."

You blinked a few times, even reached over to pinch your arm only to flinch when a sharp jolt of pain ran up it.

"It is, but it's also everything I dreamed about as a kid."

Yeosang smiled warmly, starting down the steps. "If you think that's cool, you should see the cabin you'll be staying in."

"Why'd you tell her you couldn't get her back home until Christmas Eve?" Wooyoung asked after you were escorted out of the room.

"If you say one word, you're in the stables for a week." Jongho pointed.

"Those hay bails are so uncomfortable though." The elf whined.

"I meant cleaning the stables, Wooyoung. Not sleeping in them."

"That's even worse!"

The snow crunching under yours and Yeosang's shoes was the only sound between the both of you as you stepped out of the noisy workshop and onto the wintry terrain. The little village that greeted you was like something right out of a Christmas movie and even more proof that what you were experiencing was very much real. Cabins and even small businesses lined the snow-covered street with lampposts covered in garland.

"What's your name?" He spoke up.

"Y/n."

"I'm Yeosang, Jongho's assistant of sorts."

"You don't build toys?" You asked jokingly in an attempt to ease some of the anxiousness you felt.

That earned a small chuckle from him. "No. I just make sure things are going smoothly in the workshop and help Jongho if he ever needs me."

"I honestly expected kids."

"Kids?" Yeosang chuckled melodically. "Kids can't do heavy lifting."

"Right." You huffed out a little laugh, realizing your perception of elves and the North Pole was extremely warped by films and stories.

"So how did you end up here? I'm assuming it had something to do with San and Wooyoung."

"Yeah." You sighed out. "I found one of their magic ornament things and put it on my tree, but it fell off and broke."

"Ah." He nodded knowingly. "Well, there isn't a better place you could've ended up. Jongho will make sure you're taken care of." He gave you a sincere smile, his gaze lifting. "Here we are."

Sitting before you was a cozy-looking cabin that was similar to the others in the area, a wreath with an empty wooden sign in the middle hung on the front door. As soon as you stepped foot on the stone landing, your name was etched into as if by magic.

The gasp that left you made Yeosang laugh softly. "Pretty cool, right?"

"Very cool." You murmured, your fingers tracing over the letters of your name carved seamlessly into the small sign.

"Well, take a look." Yeosang gestured.

You reached a tentative hand towards the doorknob and pushed it open.

Stepping into the cabin was like entering a warm blanket, a Christmassy one that smelled like peppermint. Every inch of the living area was covered in holiday decor, there was even a tree dotted with stunning ornaments, unfortunately none that could get you back home, you assumed. You turned to look at the elf standing in the front doorway, the wonder evident on your features.

"I'll let you get settled." He bid you farewell and stepped back outside, closing the door behind him.

The crackling of the fireplace filled the area as you moved down the hall to the bedroom, which was equally as covered in Christmas cheer, even the bed had a holiday theme with a fluffy red comforter and throw pillows to match. Taking slow steps towards the window, you gazed out at the fantasy-like village below, your attention drifting from the small businesses and cabins to the workshop that stood proudly at the end of the township. Your accommodation was located beside it and from your bedroom, you had a clear view of the round window on the second floor of the large shop—Jongho's office.

Knowing he had a view of your little cabin gave you a sense of security and you were certain he'd assigned it to you for a reason.

You stepped away from the window and decided to check out your room for the week, opening up the closet to find it filled with garments. Your fingers flicked through each one as you checked the tags, they were all your size. Even the three pairs of shoes lined along the floor of the closet were your size.

"Woah." You breathed out in awe.

The clothes inside varied in style, most of them being sweaters—cute ones too. Part of you expected overly festive holiday sweaters, but these were tasteful. You were even provided with a couple sets of red silk pajamas, one long sleeved with pants and the other short sleeved with shorts.

In the bathroom was a toothbrush, toothpaste, and all the amenities you might need. The cabin was fully-equipped, it seemed.

You left your temporary abode shortly after getting a look around and ventured out into the little village, figuring if you were going to be stuck there, you might as well look around and somewhat familiarize yourself with the place.

You'd thrown on a jacket provided in the closet of your cabin, relishing in the warmth it brought when you braved the elements. Snow had started to fall from the overcast sky above, the clouds sending down small flurries that fluttered down onto the white-blanketed ground.

The quaint elf village had everything: a cafe, a few clothing stores, and even a grocery store. There was much to check out and you weren't sure where to start.

After some contemplation, you decided to pop inside the cafe and see what kinds of goodies were sold at the North Pole. As soon as the door opened, you were greeted by a mixture of various aromas, all of which were pleasant to your olfactory sense: freshly-baked goods, sweets, and warm beverages.

An elf bustled about behind the counter, pausing long enough to ask, "Can I get something for you?"

"I'm just looking." As soon as the words left your mouth, she spun back around and proceeded with whatever task she was doing.

Two large wooden signs hung from the ceiling with a list of what was served there. The categories ranged from savory baked goods to sweets and warm drinks. Unfortunately, you still weren't feeling the best after your little blackout, so you weren't in the mood for anything, but you made a mental note to try it out before your stay came to an end.

You received a couple stares from the few elves sitting in the cafe, probably on break from the workshop, but you didn't pay any mind to it, knowing they more than likely weren't used to humans wandering around the North Pole. Still, you were grateful no one questioned it. Part of you felt bad for Wooyoung, not wanting to spread word of his blunder that caused you to end up there.

After browsing the cafe, you headed out and meandered down the street to peer at the windows displaying different merchandise. If not for the occasional elf passing by, you would've assumed this was a normal town based on its appearance. It had just about every shop your own town had, there was even a post office, most likely only for mail to Jongho since many kids often wrote letters to Santa.

Exploring the festive borough was almost therapeutic, wether that was the visuals of it or the atmosphere, you weren't sure, but once it started getting dark, you retired to your cabin.

You prepared to turn in for the night, donning the pajamas that suited you best at the moment, sliding under the sheets and snuggling into the mattress.

The bed was cozy and cloud-like, but you couldn't sleep. The thoughts in your mind spun around like a blizzard and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't seem to settle in. Though you'd somewhat come to terms with your situation and accepted the fact that everything you thought was fiction was a reality, your body didn't seem to cooperate and you found yourself unable to relax in the unfamiliar environment.

Shuffling along the snow-covered streets of the North Pole village, you made your way into the massive workshop where hundreds of elves were hard at work. Tugging your jacket closer to your body, you made your way up the staircase to Jongho's office, knocking tentatively on the frosted glass door.

"Come in."

The door clicked softly when you opened it, stepping into the room you had woken up in earlier.

"Y/n." You didn't miss the way Jongho's face lit up a bit at your presence.

"Hey." You greeted.

"Can't sleep?"

You shook your head, moving over to sit on the velvet couch, watching Jongho scan a long list that spilled off the side of his desk and went across the floor.

"Sorry if I caught you at a bad time."

"No, no." He looked over at you with a gentle smile of reassurance, grabbing a small sticky tab to mark his place on the list. "I'm just checking it twice. Though I'll have to check it again the night before Christmas Eve. The list is always changing." He turned his chair towards you, giving you his full attention. "How did you like the cabin? Was it satisfactory?"

"It's more than satisfactory, but how'd you personalize it for me?" You asked.

Jongho chuckled softly. "It's magic. As soon as you step foot in the entryway, the house fills with what you need."

Your eyes widened a bit in awe, feeling something akin to childlike wonder spark in your chest. At first, you were in shock about everything, unable to process it all, but you were beginning to accept the reality. The fact that the stories you heard as a child were true would be jarring to just about anyone.

"You know what helps me when I can't sleep?" Jongho asked with a faint grin. "Hot cocoa."

A slightly amused smile tugged at the corner of your lips. That did sound nice and sometimes a warm beverage helped when insomnia was at its worst.

"Would you like to get some?" He offered.

"I'd love some."

Jongho offered you his hand and helped you off the couch, guiding you out of his office. It was after 1 AM, but the elves were working hard, doing preparations for the big night.

"Did you get a chance to check out the village?" Jongho asked while descending the stairs.

"A little bit. I stopped in the cafe."

"And what did you think?"

"It's more normal than I thought. As for the cafe, I didn't really have an appetite at the time, but everything looked really good. Is that where we're going for cocoa?"

"Nope." Jongho had an unreadable expression on his face, but it almost felt like smug excitement.

His eyes drifted over to the lines of workstations as you passed, craning his neck to briefly examine the handiwork of the elves tinkering away and assembling different things.

"Do you ever rest?" You asked out of curiosity.

He chuckled. "I do. My living quarters are over there," He gestured upstairs to a red door with a silver J on it, located just a short distance from his office. "but when Christmas is near, I often stay up into the night making sure everything is running smoothly."

You let out a low whistle, impressed by his commitment, though someone in a position like him had to be committed to what they did or else things would go awry.

"It makes so much sense that there's multiple Santa Clauses around the world. One guy doing the whole job seems impossible."

"It is. If I had to supervise everything and deliver presents to the entire world, I don't think I'd ever be able to rest." He sighed out, running a hand through his shiny black hair. "I don't know how the story ended up being told that way. One guy? Please." He scoffed.

You chuckled, following Jongho into a breakroom of sorts with tables and a wall of what looked to be coffee machines.

"Here's where the magic happens." He grinned, walking over to grab a couple clear glass mugs.

You observed him while he got to work, preparing two machines and sliding the mugs into place. A hissing sound rang out and the cocoa started pouring out into each cup, filling them both perfectly. Jongho took the drinks and relocated to a section of the counter where jars with various toppings were lined up. He scooped out some chocolate curls, putting a small spoonful into each mug, then reached into a nearby fridge to grab a can of whipped cream, spraying a layer over the top of the cocoa, and finally topped each one with more chocolate curls.

"Candy cane?" He offered, gesturing to a cluster in one of the jars.

"Yes please."

He took two and placed one into each mug, handing yours over. "Voila."

You smiled down at the drink as the warmth from it seeped into your palms.

"The extra chocolate curls make it better and I add extra scoops of cocoa." Jongho winked, the gesture making something stir within you. "Don't tell anyone working at the cafe, but I make the best hot chocolate around here."

The smile on your face grew and you brought the beverage up to your lips, taking a small sip of it. The sweet, warm liquid awakened your tastebuds and summoned a sensation you hadn't felt since you were a kid. You had plenty of hot chocolates in the past years but none of them were able to give you that feeling that Christmas brought on when you were a child.

Jongho's boba-like eyes stared at you expectantly, waiting to hear your opinion.

"The only word I can use to describe it is delightful."

"Delightful." He echoed with a proud smile. "I like that."

The both of you returned to his office, sitting on the couch together to enjoy your hot chocolate.

"Do you like the pajamas?" Jongho spoke up.

"Mhm. I like that I got two options. Very thoughtful."

"Good. I want everything to be perfect for you since you're stuck here for a week."

"I'm starting to think it won't be so bad." A soft smile settled onto your lips. "It still doesn't exactly feel real though—being here, I mean."

He nodded in silent understanding, though he was glad you were beginning to get comfortable at the North Pole, except for the fact that you couldn't sleep.

"I'm curious. You said the naughty and nice lists change, does that mean a child can be switched to another one at the last minute?"

"It does. That's why I check one last time a couple hours before takeoff. I want to make sure every nice child gets presents."

"You love what you do, don't you?"

Jongho's face lit up and he nodded. "Bringing joy to children is my whole life."

There was something about the way he spoke with such passion and conviction that let you know being a Santa was his purpose in life.

"By the way, I hope Wooyoung didn't get scolded too much for losing his ornament." You mentioned after a beat of silence.

Jongho found it sweet that you were concerned about someone you didn't even know. "Just a little scolding, that's all."

Comfortable chit chat was exchanged between you and the handsome Santa while you sipped on your hot chocolate, pleased to find that it was working to make you drowsy.

Once your mug was empty, Jongho escorted you back to your cabin, wishing you goodnight and a restful sleep.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to come ask."

The following day of your North Pole stay, you were inside your cozy Christmas cabin, enjoying the warmth of the fireplace when you heard a knock on the door. Jongho was the last person you expected to see, but there he stood, looking handsome as ever. He was in his usual red suit ensemble, but donned a matching puffer coat with white fur around the hood, which you thought was very fitting for him.

"What are you doing here?" You asked.

"I wanted to take you somewhere."

"Take me somewhere? Aren't you busy?"

"Not at the moment, no. Yeosang is monitoring the workshop and he'll let me know if anything is wrong."

"Okay, well, let me get some shoes on and grab a jacket."

You settled on a pair of warm boots and shrugged on your coat, heading out the door with Jongho.

"So, do I get to know where it is you're taking me or is it a surprise?"

"What do you think?" He turned to you with a cheeky grin that said it all.

All you did was nod, holding back a little smile as you walked with him down the snow-covered streets.

"Are you hungry?" He asked.

"A little."

"Maybe we could swing by the cafe before heading to our destination."

"That'd be great."

The cafe smelled even more welcoming than the first time you stepped through its doors. The aroma of cinnamon, warm vanilla, and coffee wafted in the air and wrapped around you like a comforting hug.

"Anything you'd like to try?" Jongho asked.

"I don't know. It all looks so good." You murmured contemplatively, peering through the glass of the display case at the array of baked goods.

"I recommend this one." Jongho offered up an option, gesturing to his item of choice which was some sort of muffin. "I get it often."

"In that case, I think I'll try it."

He approached the counter and ordered two, handing over some money to the elf working there, the same one from the day before who was so busy. He said something to her, but you were immersed in reading the little signs displayed with the baked goods inside the glass case.

The muffin was warm in your palms, still holding heat from being in the oven. It made your mouth water. Jongho turned towards you with an expectant expression on his face.

You took that as your cue to have a bite of the fluffy muffin, humming enthusiastically at the flavor of it.

"It's good, right?" He grinned.

You nodded, following him over to a small circular table for two by one of the large glass windows of the cafe.

"Did you sleep well last night?"

"I did." You nodded happily. "That cocoa did wonders. I went right to sleep."

"I'm glad to hear it. You seem to be having a good time here so far, by the way." Jongho mentioned.

"I am, even though today is my first full day here. I feel like I'm in a Christmas movie."

He grinned, visibly pleased to hear that, especially since he was feeling a little guilty for being selfish and lying about getting you back home.

"Do you ever wish you had a change in environment?" You asked. "A place that isn't covered in snow all the time?"

"Not really." He shrugged. "Besides, on Christmas Eve I get to fly around the country and see different places. That's enough for me."

"So you really like it here?"

"I do. It's my home, after all." He smiled fondly, his warm brown eyes gazing out at the streets beyond the windowpane.

Your attention drifted from the tenderness in his eyes to the slight curve of his button nose and the shape of his slightly pouty lips. He was handsome, that much was obvious from day one, but only now were you really drinking him in. There was a boyish charm about him and yet he was very clearly a grown man.

"You should eat the rest of your muffin before it gets cold." He commented without glancing your way. "It's best when it's warm."

You stiffened and could feel the burn of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks. He'd somehow seen you staring.

Without uttering a single word, you took another bite of your baked treat, your eyes flickering up long enough to see the faintest hint of a smirk playing at Jongho's pretty lips.

A chilly gust of air hit your cheeks when you stepped out of the cafe, having had a little snack before heading to your intended destination.

"Not used to the cold of the North Pole?" Jongho inquired with a slightly sly grin.

"It's just a shock to the system after being inside the toasty cafe." You responded with a barely restrained smile, following Jongho through the snow, heading back towards the workshop.

You asked no questions and trailed alongside him as he made his way to a building located near the back of the giant shop. As you got closer you realized the structure was a stable, your eyes widening a little in realization.

"No way." You couldn't mask the excitement in your tone.

Jongho grinned. "Yes way. I wanted to give you the best North Pole experience and I thought what better way than to let you see the reindeer?"

"I can't believe this is happening." You came to a brief halt just outside the front doors. "Is Rudolph real?"

Jongho's lips quirked up a bit at your question. "He is."

The disbelief and elation on your face was enough to make his pulse skyrocket. Seeing you so enthusiastic about the place he called home was only making his feelings for you grow, not that he minded that.

"Rudolph is a total legend." You whispered out in awe.

"Don't let him hear you say that. He'll get a big head about it." Jongho chuckled. "He's got quite the ego, what with the whole song and movie about him."

Without thinking, he took your hand and guided you into the stable, your heart beating a little faster at his touch.

Nine reindeer in exceptionally clean enclosures were lined up inside the surprisingly spacious building. On the wooden door of each little stable was the reindeer's name, carved neatly into a sign. All you could do was stand there and stare in shock and awe.

"You can pet them if you'd like."

At Jongho's words, you tentatively approached the nearest stable—Prancer's. The reindeer was chewing on a mouthful of hay as you brought your hand up to rub the top of his head. You couldn't believe it, you were actually petting one of Santa's reindeer.

"Are they well-behaved?" You asked, moving to gently rub Prancer's ear, to which he started tilting his head in appreciation.

"They certainly are." Jongho's posture straightened up pridefully at his statement before he approached Comet's stable beside you, pulling out a carrot to feed him.

You watched Jongho grinning adoringly at the reindeer, murmuring things to him while rubbing on his jaw lovingly. In turn, Comet raised his head to rub his nose against the side of Jongho's face, eliciting the most heart-melting giggles you'd ever heard. The way his eyes crinkled up made butterflies erupt in your stomach; his gummy smile and cute little teeth only adding to the intense fuzzy emotions in your chest.

"Here."

Your gaze drifted to the carrot Jongho held out towards you. You took it and started feeding it to Prancer, who ditched the hay immediately when presented with the crunchy orange vegetable.

"If you're one of many Santas, does that mean there's multiple reindeer with the same names?"

Jongho hummed and gave a nod. "Each country has their own Santa and thus their own reindeer."

Every bit of information was being soaked up by you like a sponge. It was so intriguing to find out about such magical things.

"How are there multiple Rudolphs?" You questioned.

"Well," Jongho turned to look at the stall with said reindeer's name on it. "that one over there is Rudolph Jr. Jr. Jr. Jr., well, you get it."

One by one, you went down the line and stopped to give attention to each reindeer, Jongho handing you a carrot every so often to feed them. Finally, you made it to the most famous of them all. You tried to contain your excitement, but your expression said it all—you were so giddy. Rudolph's red nose glowed softly as you gave him some scratches around his ear. He bobbed his head enthusiastically like a horse would, rubbing his nose against your cheek, causing you to giggle.

"He likes you." Jongho commented with a grin, passing a carrot over.

You fed the vegetable to the reindeer who munched on it happily.

"Do you come out here to spend time with them often?"

"Every day." Jongho smiled softly. "Even if all I do is feed them. On Christmas they usually get a special treat for doing so well."

"Just out of curiosity, they don't actually eat dry oats and glitter, do they? You know, the 'reindeer food' that kids mix up at school to sprinkle in their yards on Christmas Eve?"

"Oh absolutely. They love that."

"Are you serious? For real?"

"Are you kidding me? No." Jongho burst out into loud laughter. "They don't eat glitter."

The deadpan expression on your face only made him clutch his stomach, doubling over slightly.

"That's not funny."

"It is." He managed to utter through cackles.

Embarrassment flooded through you at your own gullibility. Then again, how were you supposed to know? You just found out yesterday that Santa Claus and elves existed.

"Seriously, you can't just do that."

Jongho had to brace himself on the wooden railing of the reindeer pen as he laughed even harder. All you could do was stand by and watch with crossed arms. Finally, he let out a dramatic exhale and stood upright, wiping his eyes.

"I can't believe I got you with that one."

"You're horrible." You huffed.

"I just wanted to mess with you." He gave your head a single pat. "No harm, no foul."

"There was harm to my dignity."

He let out a laugh. "You're funny."

The sound of jingle bells emitted from an unknown location, interrupting the moment. The sound alerted Jongho and he raised his wrist, pulling his sleeve down to glance at a watch exactly like the one San showed off yesterday.

"Ah. Yeosang needs me. One of our machines is glitching." He ran a hand through his hair. "I can walk you back to your cabin if you'd like or you can watch me do boring stuff like repair a machine."

Part of you didn't want your time with Jongho to end so soon, besides, mechanical work at Santa's workshop couldn't possibly be boring.

"I think I'd like to watch you save the day."

A smile crept onto Jongho's face. "Alright then. Follow me."

You shuffled into the cafe, curious to see what was available that day, not that you were planning on buying anything. You didn't have any money with you. If you'd known you were going to be sucked into a magical portal to the North Pole, you would've grabbed your wallet first.

"Can I get you anything?" The female elf behind the counter asked.

"No thank you. I don't have any money." You admitted embarrassingly.

"That's not a problem. If you want something, just let me know."

"I don't understand." You huffed out an awkward half-chuckle.

"Jongho said to give you anything you wanted."

The expression on your face shifted, your brows lifting and eyes widening.

"He did? Are you sure?"

"Positive. Yesterday when you two were in here he told me."

It took a moment for you to formulate a response. Jongho was the one that called the shots around here, so you knew you wouldn't be able to dispute.

"I'll have one of those muffins from yesterday, please. I'd also like one hot chocolate if that's okay."

She flashed a friendly smile. "I'll get that for you right away."

Your muffin and coffee was handed over. In response, you thanked the worker and told her she was doing a wonderful job, feeling like you needed to provide something in exchange for free food, even if it was just a few positive words.

You sat by the window, at the same table you were at with Jongho. The muffin was just as delicious as it was yesterday, the hot chocolate was good too, but Jongho was right when he said he makes the best cocoa.

After a warm treat at the cafe, you meandered towards the workshop. The past couple days of your stay was mostly spent in Jongho's office since you felt the most comfortable around him. Perhaps it was the fact that he was a Santa and just exuded a friendly energy, or maybe you genuinely trusted him simply for his personality rather than his title. In your heart, you felt it was the latter. He was kind, funny, and attentive despite his busy schedule.

Whenever you weren't at the workshop, Jongho often peeked out his window at the front of his office, having a clear view of your cabin. He'd catch glimpses of you walking around inside or even standing by your bedroom window to gaze at the town.

Something warm and foreign had made its home in Jongho's chest and it stirred whenever you were around. That feeling started the day you arrived and he'd spent far too long staring at you while you laid unconscious on his office couch. It might've been creepy, but he hadn't seen another human at the North Pole ever, so of course he was intrigued, perhaps even entranced.

Jongho abruptly got to his feet and headed towards the door to his office, surprised to find you standing outside when he opened it.

"Y/n."

"Did I catch you at a bad time?" You asked.

"No. I was actually going to look for you."

"You were? Why for?"

"I wanted to take you on the snowmobile."

"You have a snowmobile?"

"Of course I do." Jongho chuckled. "I've gotta find some way to entertain myself while on vacation. You wanna go check it out?"

You nodded eagerly.

Jongho abandoned his office and led you through the workshop towards the garage where his sleigh and snowmobiles were parked.

"I went to the cafe today." You mentioned, heading down a hallway.

"Did you?"

"I did and the girl working there told me you said I could have whatever I wanted."

"Is that a problem?"

"No. I was just surprised."

"You ended up here because of one of my elves' mistakes, it's up to me to make sure you have the best time here."

The conversation was forgotten immediately upon seeing the magnificent ruby sleigh sitting in the middle of the garage. Your jaw fell open at the wondrous sight.

"There it is." You breathed out, admiring the intricate gold swirls on the side.

Jongho grinned and gave the massive sleigh a pat on the side. "She's a beaut. Never steered me wrong."

"I know I'll get a chance to sit in it in a few days, but may I?" You gestured.

"Knock yourself out."

A small gasp of joy escaped you and you hopped up in the sleigh, gaping at the control panel.

"I wasn't expecting so much technology."

"Well, there's a gps, digital maps to show the layout of everyone's homes, and even a list showing which child gets their next present. All that info gets sent right there from E Tech." He pointed to the two small screens on the control panel. "It's very advanced."

"Wow." Your fingertips brushed over the silver controls, marveling at the screens. "What's E Tech?"

"Elf Tech." Jongho clarified. "Our communications hub in the workshop. The elves there help me make sure I'm on the right track."

You climbed out of the massive sleigh, dropping down beside Jongho.

"You ready for the snowmobile now?"

You nodded, zipping up your coat in preparation. He grinned and snatched a set of keys from a compartment on the wall, along with two pairs of goggles, sitting astride the seat. You slid in behind him, your arms wrapping around his waist, the closeness making you feel warm inside. He passed one pair of goggles to you, letting you slide them on before he did so himself.

"Hold on tight. Don't want you falling off."

At his words, you squeezed him more securely as a precaution, the engine on the snowmobile thrumming to life.

The motor vehicle was driven out of the large garage and out into the snowy terrain. Just outside was wide open space coated in a white blanket, giving Jongho plenty of area for taking off in his sleigh on Christmas Eve. The snowmobile thrust forward and tore through the fluffy snow-covered ground. A little squeal of both surprise and joy slipped out while you pressed your cheek into Jongho's back. He laughed and accelerated, moving even faster, stirring up snow chunks in the process.

You lifted your head, peeking over his shoulder, the icy air blasting your cheeks. Flurries flew by, landing in both yours and Jongho's hair, dotting your heads in tiny white clusters. He cut the steering handles sharply, forcing the vehicle to turn and a yelp to leave your lips. Gleeful laughter emitted from Jongho, who seemed to be enjoying your reactions immensely, trying to pull more startled sounds from you by speeding up and riding over small hills.

"I'm not scaring you, am I?" He asked.

"No." You laughed, your vice-like hold on him getting tighter while you nestled your face at the junction between his neck and shoulder. The faint but warm scent of sugary cookies hit your senses, mixing with the icy air. It took a moment for you to register that the aroma was coming from Jongho. He smelled like freshly-baked cookies. For some reason that little detail was endearing and made your heart soar with adoration. Without making it obvious, you nuzzled a little closer to enjoy more of it.

Jongho was elated to see you becoming accustomed to the North Pole, now knowing your way around fairly well after four days. Though the village wasn't all that big, he was still happy. You'd taken to the streets on your own to peruse the shops and stop by the cafe again. Naturally, Jongho snuck a peek out his office window as you left the workshop and strolled down the wide path through town.

"Hey, boss."

Jongho spun around at the sound of San's voice. "Yes?"

"Wooyoung and I scoped out the Gyeonggi province last night. It's the last one we had, so you're all set for Christmas Eve." He mentioned. "We dropped papers off to E Tech earlier and they're programming the info into the system for the sleigh. Just wanted to let you know."

"Thanks." Jongho gave a small smile. "Wooyoung didn't wanna help you deliver this message?"

"He thinks you're still mad for screwing up, so he just sent me."

"I'm not mad at him, I just want him to be more careful."

"I made sure of that last night. No more aerial tricks."

"Good." Jongho nodded. "Thanks again for the update."

San gave a nod accompanied with a dimpled smile before heading towards the door. His strides came to a halt as his hand rested on the knob. "How's the girl?"

"Y/n? She's fine." Jongho turned to face the window again, the hint of a smile playing at his lips. "Much better than I thought actually. She seems to be having a good time here."

San's grin grew wider. "That's great to hear."

With that, the elf exited the room, leaving Jongho to himself.

Things were getting busy at the workshop and you'd just left Jongho's office to make a trip to the break room for hot chocolate, which you'd been having often, making it exactly how Jongho had the first night you were there.

Yeosang stood by Jongho's desk to go over a list of tasks that had been completed so far, as Christmas was approaching fast. As soon as the door closed behind you, the man in charge started skimming over a stack of papers on his desk, not seeing the expression his assistant had made when you left, his eyes darting between the office door and the boss.

Without looking up from his paperwork, Jongho spoke, "Do you have something to say, Yeosang?"

The elf got a little sheepish at being caught without even being looked at, but Jongho was very perceptive.

"Nothing." He brushed it off. "I should go over this list with you."

"If you have something to say, you should say it." He raised his head and looked over at his assistant.

Yeosang was hesitant to speak, but did so anyway after a moment of silence. "I see the way you look at her, the way you act when she's around."

Jongho's eyebrows furrowed a bit.

"Your whole face lights up and your gaze follows her out the door every time she leaves. I can tell you like her." Yeosang continued.

Jongho pressed his lips together in response to his assistant's observation, which was true.

"Every Santa needs his Mrs. Claus." The elf added quietly.

Those final words seared themselves into Jongho's head. Yeosang was right. He never thought he needed anyone by his side, but after having you in his life, albeit briefly, he was learning that having some company was nice. Jongho had never considered a partner. He'd always been so focused on his job. Focused on making sure everything was on schedule. In all his decades of being a Santa, he never once thought about finding someone to spend his free time with, but Jongho had been selfish, he knew he had. He was keeping you there and withholding information from you for his own desires. There was just something about you that drew you to him and he needed time to figure it out. He had never been so enchanted by anyone at first sight.

Having you around has been such a treat and a refreshing change to the life Jongho deemed perfect. He loved telling you about the inner workings of the North Pole and what he did as a job. He loved introducing you to the wonders of his realm and the magic within it, but he needed to come clean.

"Christmas Eve is tomorrow." Yeosang mentioned. "She'll be going home."

All Jongho did was nod.

"Could you please be careful with the gifts?" Yeosang politely asked the line of elves, watching as they tossed gifts into the back of the magnificent red sleigh.

Even though he was in charge of helping run things, he was hardly able to be stern, always instructing others in the most well mannered way possible. It took him a while to even get to that point, but he'd made lots of progress.

Jongho stood by to observe, donning a red suit similar to the one he had on the first day you'd arrived, except the notch lapels of his red suit jacket were covered in white fur along with the cuffs and the bottoms of his pants. On top of his head was a classic Santa hat, adjusted to where his slightly wavy black bangs showed from the front.

You spent a little longer than intended standing in the living room of your cabin. A dull ache in your chest presented itself when you thought about having to leave. Who knew six days at the North Pole would have such an impact on you? During your brief stay, you'd experienced so much and learned even more. You stayed in a place you no longer thought existed and hadn't believed in since you were a child. All this time, you thought the North Pole was just a barren snowy landscape in the Northern Hemisphere used as a location for a fictional being, not one of multiple magical realms filled with elves and reindeer with glowing noses.

Even as you stood in the garage with Jongho and watched Christmas Eve preparations, you couldn't shake the disappointment of leaving. Part of you wondered if you'd see Jongho again after tonight.

Everything seemed to go by in a blur, your goodbyes with Yeosang and San, the apology from Wooyoung for causing you to end up there, and even boarding the sleigh.

The dreamlike experience of being up in the sky, watching the reindeer guide the magical sled through the air proved to be a good distraction from your thoughts and the dread of having to return to normal life, which now paled in comparison to your experience at the North Pole.

Jongho was incredible to watch, sliding down chimneys with ease and somehow making it into homes without chimneys, dropping piles of presents within a single minute.

"How do you do that?" You asked in awe.

"I'm Santa." He winked.

Jongho had meant to come clean about his dishonesty, but things were so hectic he never got a chance to say anything to you before leaving the North Pole. It was probably for the best, he figured. He'd just tell you when he dropped you off at your house, that way if you were angry with him, you two could part ways there and you wouldn't have to be around him while upset.

House after house, Jongho delivered gifts, filling the homes of all the nice children on the list. Then you arrived in your neighborhood, your heart sinking with dread.

"This is it." You spoke through an exhale, standing by your back door, not liking the heaviness in your chest.

"Before you go, there's something I have to tell you." Jongho spoke up.

"Okay." You watched him expectantly, the look on your face making his gut twist uncomfortably with guilt. You had no idea what he'd done.

"I lied to you. I could've gotten you back home the day you arrived."

You blinked, processing his words. "What?"

"Just... let me explain, please. I've done this job alone for decades. I love it. I love planning each Christmas, getting letters from children across the country, making them happy. I never thought I needed anyone else, it never even crossed my mind—but then you came along. You quite literally showed up out of nowhere and came into my perfect life, or what I thought was perfect."

You watched him, listening intently to his explanation.

"When I first laid eyes on you I felt something that I hadn't felt before. You intrigued me and I wanted so badly to keep you around and see what you were like, to figure out what my feelings were. You've brought so much light and joy into my life in just six days, but I was selfish. You have every right to be angry with me. You're free to go inside and forget all about me if that's what you wish. I'll understand."

Anger. Where was it? Because after hearing Jongho's explanation, you didn't feel it. Instead, you felt relief. You thoroughly enjoyed your time at the North Pole, in fact, it had reawakened that childlike warmth in your chest that you'd been unable to get back, despite loving the holidays.

"There no need for you to apologize."

Jongho's expression shifted from one of guilt to surprise. "I lied to you though."

"Yes, you did. However, you also gave me the best experience I could ever ask for and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't going to miss it."

He blinked in disbelief.

"Truth is, there's something about you too, Jongho. Something that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside and I don't think it's because you're a Santa."

He could feel his heart rate rising, the consistent thud in his chest becoming faster.

"So what you're saying is... you like me too?" He took a step forward.

You nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

"Have you ever kissed under a mistletoe?" He asked you.

"No."

"Would you like to?"

Before you could question him, Jongho pointed up, your head raising to find a mistletoe magically growing on one of the beams of the roof over your back door. You looked to Jongho in surprise. All he did was chuckle, sliding one arm around your waist. The space between your faces diminished little by little, your eyelids slowly falling shut moments before Jongho's soft lips landed on yours. You'd been secretly admiring them almost since the beginning of your stay in his realm and now you could confidently say they were as soft as they looked.

He hummed contently, holding you tighter while depending the kiss, one of his gloved hands cupping your cheek tenderly. Your closed eyes nearly rolled back at the sensation of Jongho's lips dragging slowly over your own, slotting sideways to kiss you wholly. Waves of blissful tingles rolled over you, warmth blossoming in your chest as your hands gripped his fluffy lapel to somewhat ground yourself.

"So you really want to live at the North Pole with me?" Jongho asked after parting ways, his warm breath brushing your lips.

He wanted so badly to keep kissing you, to keep holding you, but he was on a schedule.

"I do."

"It's a big decision."

"I know." You breathed out.

"And you're certain?"

"I am. I just have to tie up some loose ends here."

"Understood." He murmured, still holding your cheek in his palm.

"I can come back and visit, right? See my friends and family?"

"Of course."

You nodded. "Okay. It's settled."

That night, you parted ways with Jongho, no longer feeling upset about the departure, as you knew your separation was only temporary. You quit your job and took care of any other things in your life that you were preparing to leave behind, making arrangements to move away to just one of many North Pole realms.

Three days after Christmas, you heard a knock at your back door, finding it odd. Who would go to your back door? When you peered outside, your question was answered. Jongho stood outside, a bright smile on his face.

You couldn't help yourself, overcome with excitement as you leapt forward and threw your arms around him.

"Aww. How cute!"

The sudden voice that came from above startled you and your head jerked up to find a swirling portal, the sight of Jongho's office on the other side and San poking his head out.

"Would you leave us alone?" Jongho huffed.

"Hey, my mistake is what got you a girlfriend." Wooyoung appeared on the other side of the portal.

"Guys, leave them alone." Yeosang showed up and pulled the two elves away. "You're only here to help her move her things."

You chuckled, amused at the banter going on.

"Do you have your stuff?" Jongho asked.

"Yes, it's all ready to go."

Inside, you had suitcases and duffel bags, along with a few boxes of items you couldn't part ways with, all of them packed and ready to be moved to their new home.

Jongho tossed them up through the portal with ease, Wooyoung and San catching each one, setting it aside in the office. A few complaints were exchanged about how the portal could've been opened a different way so things could be carried in instead of tossed up, but you learned that was, again, Wooyoung's fault.

One by one, your stuff was moved until all that was left was yourself.

"Are you ready." Jongho took your hand, giving it a squeeze.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Yeosang, San, and Wooyoung dropped a short rope from the portal.

"Seriously, you should've opened it on the wall or something." San grumbled.

"I said I was sorry." Wooyoung whined as Jongho made his way up, joining the others.

You took hold and were pulled up through the portal and into the office you'd become so familiar with.

"You two can take her stuff to my living quarters." He told San and Wooyoung, helping you stand up. He leaned in, whispering softly in your ear, "Welcome home."

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

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boomerang109 · 2 years ago

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spent my birthday money on replacing my loops cause somehow i lost them and this world is too loud

#i only just figured out i lost them yesterday and i wanted to wait a bit to see if i could find them #and then today every noise made me ANGERY #so I was like damn guess I need my loops #but I signed up for the one time student discount and got quiets and engage plus #and the ones I have from before are experience plus so even if I find them they’re technically different #one review of the engages said it’s better than the experiences cause it doesn’t make your chewing echo the way the experiences do and I’m #🙏🙏🙏really hoping that’s true cause by far that was my biggest complaint #like when you’re wearing both experience plus loops you want no noise no nothing and then you have to take ‘em out cause holy fuck it’s #making me own chewing echo in my head? those are the bad days lmao #but the engage plus doesn’t actually dampen as MUCH sound since it’s supposed to work better for being *engaged* so idk. could be good or #bad I’m not sure. we’ll find out #but that’s why I wanted to get the quiets too. Just in case #and hopefully my experiences will turn up and then I’ll just have ALL the earplugs #life of a boomerang #oh I just realized no where in this post did I use the word earplugs #if you’ve somehow made it this far and are still wondering what tf im talking about. loops are an earplug brand and my neurodiverse ass (and #many others. I’m not unique) swears by it

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neocrias · 4 months ago

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I just know you - c.hs

synopsis: you take the day to be quiet and distant, but your boyfriend doesn't really seem to notice.

pairing: vernon x gn reader

wc: 1k; super short, really just for the vibes

genre/aus: fluff; estabilished relationship

warnings: none at all lol; vernon is really a simp and reader is a little childish.

"So... you haven't even noticed, right?" you cross your arms, leaning against the wall while giving the most cynical look at your boyfriend sitting at the sofa.

Vernon takes off his headphones clumsily with a confused look on his face, turning to look at you with his eyebrows knit-together.

"Sorry, what?" that's all he says. You almost roll your eyes, offended. You haven't gotten off your bedroom almost all day, so he should at least be worried...right?

But Vernon apparentely was way too off to notice anything. Ever since you woke up, passing through him in the living room only once to get to the kitchen and drink some water, he's been the same: lying there with headphones on while watching something on his ipad.

"I haven't talked to you all day. And you didn't even notice it." You blurt out, coughing after you made your effort to speak.

"Well...I figured you'd have a sore throat after the karaoke you went to yesterday with your friends." He shrug his shoulders, tensing them right afterwards. "Wait...is there another reason? Did I do something?"

You freeze. That's precisely the reason you've been quiet in your room all day. But how did he figure that all by himself?

Actually, you have been enjoying some lazy time to yourself. You woke up with a dry throat and you just knew your day was over, so all you could do ever since then was laying, watching TV, drinking water and staying as quiet as possible not to worsen your condition. At some point, you were even mentally thanking your boyfriend for being so low-maintenance and not getting out of the couch to make you questions or picking up conversation, because you knew you couldn't resist his big brown eyes and would end up talking to him all afternoon. However, after some reflection, you were also wondering why the hell would he think it was normal for you two to spend the whole day going non-verbal. You missed him, and you wanted him to annoyingly make you speak even though you couldn't for being almost voiceless and incredibly tired.

He didn't even notice you were silent all day. He didn't miss you like you missed him - at least that's what you thought, and these thoughts made you march to him pissed off and slightly upset, with a frown and a big pout on your face - all which slowly melted at his confession.

"B-but you didn't even check on me..." You purred, still a little sulky. Vernon just raised his eyebrows, seeming a bit lost.

"I just thought you'd like to rest."

You take a deep breath. Okay. Your boyfriend is, indeed, considerate - which makes your heart flutter a little - but you had somewhat a pride on you, and even though you were speechless - both by your physical conditions and his cute demeanor - you couldn't let him win that easily.

"You...you could've offered me some medicine. Or mint drops. Why didn't you offer me mint drops?" You really had to invent something to complain about at this point, like a child, because he just left you so mesmerized.

"But they're in your bed stand. I bought some in the morning when I was at the grocery shop." Vernon clarifies, smiling a little and your hearts stops for a moment. He's the cutest, and I'm stupid.

You stop for a while, not knowing what to say next.

"...So, you're not upset that I didn't talk or approach you?"

Vernon shakes his head.

"And you didn't mind that I was in my room all day resting?"

He repeats the gesture, pouting a little.

"I don't get it..." You cough. "You knew all of this beforehand, and you didn't even get mad that I didn't talk to you all day!? You just let me be because that was exactly what I wanted? It makes no sense! Wow, you must really-" You raise your voice out of surprise, but it fails in the middle of your monologue, causing you to cough really hard and your throat to hurt quite a lot.

"Hey, you shouldn't force it, babe." Vernon warns carefully, moving a little on the sofa to look at you better. "What was it?"

You grab the closest notebook at the coffee table and a pen, starting to write what you were going to tell him before you got cut out by your own malfunctioning throat.

"Wow, you must really like me then" Your caligraphy spells. Vernon tightens his eyes as he approaches to read the paper in your hands better, and when he's finished, he throws you a shy smile.

"I'd say a fair amount." He shrugs his shoulders, playfully, watching you roll your eyes at him. "Fine, let's get you to bed then. I'll be by your side since you miss me so much and can't stand a whole day without my company. Just remember not to talk, darling."

Vernon motions to stand up, but you stop him before he does it, writing once again on the notebook before showing it to him.

"And how did you know I was voiceless?"

"Well, last night when you arrived and was telling me about the karaoke and how much you had fun, your voice sounded a little odd, so I just figured it would be even worse by today."

"You're really that attentive!?" You can't help but exclamate at loud, surprised at how loved you can feel by him. Vernon rapidly moves to shut you, starting to guide you towards the bedroom.

"Shhh, let's go rest, babe." It's all he says. What Vernon ommits, though, is that of course he'd pay attention to the minimal details of your voice. After all, that's one of his favorite features of you. It's your sweet voice that tells him the most loveable things he's ever heard and of course he missed hearing it during that day, but he just really wanted you to get better.

After all, it seemed like dating super quiet and chill Vernon ended up being more tender than you could ever imagine. He just knew you too damn well.

#svt x reader #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt fluff #vernon #vernon chwe #svt vernon #vernon x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #seventeen reactions #seventeen x reader

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mister0ctopus · 17 days ago

Text

Server Room (2)

(mini series) - jeon jungkook

Pairings: IT!JK x Reader

Summary: Your new IT guy is quiet and shy. But when you accidentally caught him doing something in the server room, while moaning your name, you just had to pretend you didn’t see that, right? Even if you can't help but feel something, like, help him?

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents, Tension, Panic Attack, Alcohol, Claustrophobia

Au/Genre: Office au, Mini Series

Word Count: 3.4k

Note: i initially wanted this chapter to be a little spicy, but the waves of missing bangtan kept crashing over me as i was writing it... and i couldn’t help but be a softie. 😩 nevertheless, hope you all still enjoy this chapter. please let me know what you think. thanks for being here. thanks for reading, love you all <3😊

🐙 Masterlist / AskMeeeeee!!!

<- Part 1 Part 3 ->

You’re a rockstar.

You know it.

You’re commanding the room.

Your high-waisted skirt hugs your curves flawlessly, paired with a crisp white button-up and a belt to accentuate your silhouette.

You stepped into your killer stiletto heels, the ones that always make you feel powerful.

And like the rockstar you are, you breezed through your presentation with ease—after all, you’d poured days of hard work into it, and it showed. Jungkook's tweaks made a huge difference, and despite everything that happened yesterday, you’re incredibly grateful for his help.

The praise from your manager and colleagues felt like the cherry on top of a grueling quarter, and you couldn’t help but bask in a well-earned wave of pride.

After all, being in Sales is not for the faint of heart. It is a demanding job that requires sheer will and resilience.

But you're grateful to have met genuine friends at work.

The kind that makes work feel like less work.

Hanging out with them—whether it's sneaky breaks during the day or wild post-work dinners and drinks—is something you seriously look forward to. You get the juiciest gossip and fresh perspectives from every corner of the office.

“YN! Congrats on the presentation! As expected of you. You did great, babes!” Jimin cheers as he wraps you in one of his signature tight hugs, while you're making coffee in the pantry. He’s a hugger—you figured that out pretty quickly. Jimin was introduced to you by Yoongi, who you were friends with long before joining this company, and the two of you hit it off instantly.

"Thanks, Jiminie. Ugh, I almost didn’t make it today. My laptop broke down yesterday and I seriously thought I lost everything. IT totally saved me, though." You said, still feeling the stress of it all.

"Whoa, jeez... So, you met the new IT guy, Jungkook? Yoongi introduced him to us last week, I think? Said he's a friend of a friend..." He trails off, eyes following a pretty intern passing by you.

You followed his gaze, then quickly turned back to him. "Wait, he was Yoongi's friend? No, I hadn't seen him until yesterday..."

His face flashes in your mind again, and you feel a flare in your chest, and your core...

But the inked arm, the lip ring... his moans when he was—

"—coming?" Jimin interrupts, eyes narrowed, clearly waiting for an answer.

"Wha—huh?” you blink.

"I said, are you coming? Later? Dino's? Let’s celebrate that killer presentation!" Jimin grinned, practically bouncing with excitement.

"Oh! Yeah... Yeah, of course!" you laughed, a little too nervously.

"You good? You look a little bothered," he said, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Yeah! I’m fine. Just remembered something I need to wrap up today," you lied.

"Alright, well, I'll leave you to it. See you at Dino's after 5!" He winked and flashed a final grin before his Chelsea boots clicked down the hall, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You head back to your desk, trying to distract yourself with some admin work as the hours drag on. You make a conscious effort to avoid the IT room, which is easy enough since it’s tucked away at the far corner of the floor.

But your thoughts keep drifting back to the server room...

By the time the clock hits 5, you're more than ready to bolt. Bag slung over your shoulder, makeup refreshed, and a swipe of some cherry red lipstick —and you’re all set to end this interesting week.

Dino’s is the usual spot for your crew. Just a few blocks from the office, it's hosted everything from Yoongi’s promotion to Jimin finally getting his PTO approved (his boss is an ass).

You walk into the bar and spot Allie right away, waving you over with that big, excited grin of hers. You head over to their table, and give her a peck on the cheek.

“Hey girl! I heard you slayed that presentation! Congrats!!!” she says, her voice all sweet and perky, like cotton candy and sunshine.

"Thanks! I really prepared for it," you giggled, feeling proud of yourself.

"Yeah, Jimin told me! Remember what the guy from Marketing called you? The one who tried to flirt with you while obviously married? Anyway—he called you an office vixen with brains and a nice ass. Remember? I totally agree with the guy. 100%," she recalled, laughing.

You love her.

While Yoongi is like rain at night—a brooding but steady force, someone who hangs back like training wheels on a bike. He never judges, but you still tread carefully. A man of few words, but a volume of presence… a warm cup of coffee, and sound advice—

Allie and Jimin are like the sun after the rain—radiant, gentle, and warm. You’ve always admired that about them. They draw people in, like moths to a flame. Their smiles always radiate a comforting energy that makes everyone feel seen.

“So, Yoongi’s out until next week...” Jimin said, scanning the group and doing a quick headcount. “Allie and YN are here. Tae’s coming in a bit...”

Now, Taehyung… is like sunset. There’s ember in his eyes, golden sparks, a warmth that lingers long after the light fades. In those eyes, there’s another universe you can only wish to be part of, a universe no one fully grasps, yet everything he does feels strangely familiar, like a long-lost memory resurfacing. Like watching a VHS tape of your childhood.

You love them. You adore them.

“He said he’s with some guys from his department” Jimin's still on his phone, probably texting Taehyung. “… Jungkook's with them too."

You froze for a moment, your dreamy gaze at your friends quickly replaced by uneasiness.

You love them. You adore them.

It was the kind of moment that made you want to break the fourth wall, shooting a knowing look to some imaginary audience as if to say, “Are you kidding me?”, like you were in a sitcom or some made-up character.

Which, of course, you’re not.

But the thought of Jungkook coming... to this bar, was making you nervous. Your mind kept circling around the word coming, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You wanted to kick yourself for being ridiculously stupid and childish right now.

You’re not sure how to face him. You’re just glad he didn’t catch you in the server room. That would’ve been awkward, right? What would you even say to him? Like “Hey? Nice dick? Need a hand? Or rather… another hand?”

And that you still don’t know what you feel. Flattered? But also creeped out? But also turned on?

That you came so hard moaning his name last night?

Because goddamn...

Your face flushes, and you can feel the warmth in places it definitely shouldn’t be, so you force yourself to pull it together before anyone notices.

Just as you think you’ve regained control, he walks in.

Jungkook.

In black long sleeves, a few buttons undone at the top, sleeves rolled up to show off his tattoos, and dark pants held by a belt, perfectly showcasing his waist.

How does this guy have the face of an angel and the body of a devil? You don’t understand.

You take a deep breath, forcing your thoughts to calm as Taehyung greets you with a quick but tight hug. His other friends follow, entering with happy smiles, high fives, and loud greetings. As everyone settles in, Jungkook casually slides into the seat in front of you. And for a moment, you forget how to breathe. Or how to act. Because what the fuck?

“Hey,” he said, not meeting your eyes, his focus fixed on the menu he was absently flipping through.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice awkward and unsure. You tried to mask it, but the effort only made it sound even more awkward.

“Didn’t know you’d be here. Thought it was just Tae and some guys…”

“Yeah, um, Tae and the group—we come here often,” you say, your voice weak and almost whispery.

But why are you whispering?

No way were you letting him have this kind of effect on you—not when you were rocking your killer stilettos. You, cowering for a guy? Please. Sure, you saw what he did. Sure, you felt what you felt. And so what? Big deal.

You tried to regain confidence. You straightened your back.

You shoved the lingering dirty thoughts aside, reminding yourself you had something important to say.

“Hey, I know I already thanked you, but really—thank you for helping me yesterday. What you did saved me so much time, and honestly, it made my presentation a lot better. So, thanks.” Your tone was genuine, your words earnest.

He nodded, a soft smile tugging at his lips, revealing a small dimple that you definitely didn’t need to notice right now.

“No worries, glad I could help,” he replied casually, wiping the condensation from his beer glass with a napkin, then meticulously drying the table around it. For someone so effortlessly attractive, he was almost annoyingly neat.

The night deepened, and like a typical Friday night, the bar was packed. Everyone seemed tipsy now.

The group was a chaotic mess. Everyone was talking over each other, laughing loudly enough to drown out the bar’s music. Gossip, banter, and office inside jokes flowed just as freely as the drinks. You noticed Jungkook, just as engaged in the conversation, chiming in with playful jabs and high-fives every now and then.

You lost it when Taehyung stood up, dragging a protesting Jimin toward the dance floor. Jimin half-heartedly tried to resist, but it was clear the drinks were starting to work their magic on both of them.

"I don’t dance, leave me alone!" Jimin said, shoving Taehyung.

"I had a dream that in your past life, you were a popular dancer," Taehyung laughed, only to wince as Jimin pinched him.

Just as you were enjoying the chaos the two were causing, a glass of beer tipped over, spilling its contents all over your white blouse. The cold liquid seeping into the thin fabric and drenching your chest.

Taehyung and Jimin, completely oblivious to the whole incident, were now laughing and stumbling their way onto the dance floor, joining the chaotic mass of bodies in the center.

Startled, you glanced down, inspecting the damage as you saw Allie scramble around, searching for something to help with the mess.

But Jungkook was quick to react, handing you a stack of tissues.

“Here,” he said softly.

“Thanks,” you muttered, grabbing the napkins and frantically dabbing at your blouse. It was no use. The thin fabric clung to your skin, and despite the dim lights, the outline of your black lace bra was now clearly visible.

You didn’t see Jungkook swallow hard as he quickly averted his gaze to the crowd, but he felt his pants tighten, forcing him to adjust in his seat.

You stood up as you excused yourself to the bathroom. Time to salvage what you could of your outfit. And your dignity.

You stayed in the bathroom, drying your blouse with the hand dryer, the hum of the machine filling the tiny space against the loud music outside. As you stand there, your eyes catch your reflection in the mirror. Your eyeliner's a little smudged, your hair's a bit messy, in a kind of way that you like.

Your thoughts drift back to Jungkook, and how he carries himself within the group. So effortlessly cool and funny. You notice he wasn’t shy, like what you initially though he was. It’s still kinda awkward to look at him without flashes of him in the server room popping into your mind, but you’ve noticed he tends to avoid your gaze.

It’s strange though, because he’s not like that with anyone else.

After a few minutes, when your shirt feels dry enough, you step out of the bathroom, making your way back to your table.

But as soon as you take a few steps, a group of obviously drunk people shoving each other stumbles into you, and suddenly you're caught in the middle of their wild commotion. You try to make your way through, but the noise and the chaos are overwhelming, and you're shoved in every direction, feeling dizzy and helpless as you're swept along by the force of their movements.

Panic claws at your chest.

And breathing feels suddenly harder.

Just as you feel your knees begin to buckle, firm, strong hands grip your shoulders, steadying you. In one smooth motion, the man pulls you closer, his body a solid wall, caging you against the chaos around you. You glance up, the first thing your eyes catching is the lip ring glinting in the dim light, and then you realize—he’s taller than you, even with your heels.

What… Why is Jungkook here?

You feel his body jerk with every forceful bump from the crowd, each time pulling you closer to his chest. His jaw clenches with every impact, and you feel his grip on you tightens in response.

Suddenly, you feel him guide you away from the crowd. He struggles for a moment as he pushes through, but his strength is undeniable. Before you know it, he's gently steering you to a quieter corner of the bar, where there’s more space and the air feels easier to breathe again.

You close your eyes, trying to regain your breath and balance.

"You okay?" His voice is gentle but firm. He’s waiting for an answer.

You nod, eyes still shut, but words are stuck in your throat.

You hate tight, enclosed spaces, and you know things could’ve turned dangerous if Jungkook hadn’t intervened in time. A pang of gratitude tugs at your chest again.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the ringing in your ears won’t stop, and your lips and fingers feel numb. The air feels so thick, refusing to fill your lungs properly, and everything around you seemstocloseinmakingithardertobreathe.

“Hey, what do you need?” He stares at you with concern, his gaze steady and unwavering. His hands rest gently on your shoulders, his presence calm as he silently waits for you to respond.

The noise grows louder, it's suffocating, overwhelming. You can’t breathe.

Your breathing comes in shallow, rapid gasps.

Without a word, Jungkook caged your frame with his arms, weaving through the crowd toward the exit.

Air.

Space.

The moment you step outside, you hear him say, "Breathe, YN. You're okay," over and over as you manage to let more air into your lungs.

The space feels infinite, and slowly, you finally breathe freely again.

Jungkook sat silently with you in his car, the windows rolled down, letting in the cool night air.

The parking lot was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos inside the bar. The car felt like a fortress, a safe space that shielded you from the overwhelming noise and suffocating crowd you’d just escaped.

You stayed silent, focusing on steadying yourself, grounding your thoughts with the breathing exercises you’d practiced and used countless times before.

He remained quiet, only glancing at you now and then. It was as if he knew exactly what you needed—peace, space, calm.

After a few moments, when you finally felt like you could breathe again, you let out a soft sigh and turned to him. “You saved me again.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, sparing you a brief glance, but he didn’t say anything else.

“It’s the second time you saved my life,” you said, a light smile tugging at your lips.

“Hmmm,” Jungkook hummed again, this time without even glancing at you. His focus remained straight ahead, though there was a softness in his expression.

“Are you always this quiet?” you asked, a playful smile creeping onto your face.

“Hmmm,” he repeated, but this time, his lips quirked into a subtle smile that revealed those tiny dimples on his cheeks.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you feel a jittery sensation in your stomach. You quickly looked away.

Shut up, you thought to yourself. Shut the front door, lock it, throw away the key, and set the whole house on fire.

“Well, thank you. Again,” you said with a soft laugh. Then, in a quieter tone, you admitted, “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t gotten to me on time.”

Jungkook turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with concern. “Does this happen to you often? You know, attacks?”

You hesitated for a moment before exhaling slowly. “In the past... but it’s gotten better. I haven’t had an attack in a year, but... I guess what happened earlier was just too much.”

“I see…” he replied quietly, his tone thoughtful.

You nodded, finally feeling yourself relax a little more. “I feel better now. And really… thank you. I mean it—I’m truly grateful.”

Jungkook gave a small nod, his eyes meeting yours with sincerity. For a moment, there was nothing but the hum of the car and the stillness of the night.

A sudden wave of exhaustion hits, and you can’t help but let out a yawn.

“You should rest,” Jungkook says softly. “I’ll drive you home. It’s late, and you’ve had a few drinks.”

You glance at him, questioning with your eyes, as if silently asking if he’s okay to drive. He notices and reassures you, “Don’t worry. I only had two bottles, and that was hours ago. I’m good.”

Too drained to argue, you simply nod and accept his offer.

7 missed calls.

18 messages.

You finally checked your phone and quickly called your friends back, explaining what had happened and assuring them Jungkook was kind enough to drive you home.

“Here, Taehyung wants to talk to you,” you said, handing the phone to Jungkook.

He took it without hesitation, his expression calm as he listened. “Mm,” he nodded a few times, offering short, clipped answers before handing the phone back to you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Taehyung asked for the third time, his voice laced with concern. In the background, you could hear Allie and Jimin babbling on the phone, their words slurring and pointless, as they were clearly drunk.

“Yes, Tae, I’m fine,” you reassured him with a small sigh, grateful but slightly exasperated.

After a few more exchanges of "call me when you get home," you finally ended the call, leaning back in your seat with a tired exhale.

You entered your address on an app Jungkook’s phone, your fingers briefly brushing against his as you handed it back to him. For a split second, you felt him stiffen, but he quickly regained composure, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot without saying a word.

The drive was quiet, the kind of calm that made you feel sleepier. You stared out the window, the passing buildings turning into light streaks making your eyes heavy.

You were surprised by how comforting Jungkook’s presence was—like yesterday had never happened, but between then and now, so much had occurred, and he felt… strangely familiar.

Jungkook would glance at you every now and then, but the two of you didn’t speak.

The silence spoke words that didn’t need to be said. You basked in the comfort of it throughout the rest of the drive.

The drive felt long, but somehow it went by quickly. Jungkook pulled over with ease, and he glanced at you when you unbuckled your seatbelt.

"Hey, thank you again for tonight— for everything," you say, the hum of the car steady, matching the rhythm of your heart.

He nods. Then he meets your eyes. Then he smiles.

You watch the curve of his mouth, your eyes lingering on the silver ring in his lip.

He catches your gaze, then the rest of your face, then your lips.

Your heart beats loudly now, echoing against the steady hum of the car.

And just as you thought your heart was about to leap out of your chest—

"Goodnight," Jungkook says softly, his voice low and steady, his gaze lingering on yours.

For a moment, it feels like you’ve forgotten how to breathe. You manage to say "goodnight" in the faintest voice, barely audible.

You step out of the car and make your way quickly to your apartment building. Once you reach your unit and close the door behind you, you hear the soft sound of his car pulling away.

And as you settle into the warmth and comfort of your house, a deep sense of calm settles over you. A wave of déjà vu washes over you, making you pause.

You close your eyes, trying to remember when you’ve felt this way before.

And you can almost feel the steady hum of the engine vibrating through you.

Your mind drifts back to the car.

With Jungkook.

🐙 a/n: Hiii!!! Please let me know whatchu think and which part you liked, or did not like lol! I like hearing your thoughts <3 again, thanks for reading and see you in Part 3! Mwaaahh 😘 or if you have kwesjins, letmeknowww!!!

Taglist: @taekritimin123 @vantelover1306 @random-musingsss @likewtaf @jeonmaleficent @daskewl @almatiarau

🐙 Let me know in the comments if you want to be added! 😘

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edenesth · 11 months ago

Text

The Way to His Heart [10]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4.5k

Trigger Warnings: graphic violence/torture, gore, implied mutilation

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 9 | Fic Masterlist | Part 11

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Wooyoung called out, entering the general's study with Jongho following closely behind, having been summoned to the estate.

Seonghwa looked up from his desk, "Ah yes, I heard you turned down the bonus incentive we offered. Why is that? Is there something else that you wish to have?"

Having encountered few who would refuse extra money, your husband found it hard to comprehend the private investigator's decision. Most people around him were usually drawn by the allure of his wealth or other associated benefits, which left him curious about Wooyoung's motives for declining the bonus. Surely, there was something specific he desired.

The younger man beamed, "My lord, I wasn't working so willingly for you because I wanted something more from you. Honestly, nothing makes me happier than being recognised by you! I just... okay, maybe there is one thing I really want."

Raising his brow, the general was not surprised by the sudden admission, "Go on, name it then."

With a cheeky grin, the investigator replied, "It's that you allow me to help you with whatever problems you have now!"

Your husband rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "What do you mean? I have no problems now; the worst is over."

"Really? Is that why you're here sulking alone instead of being with Lady Park? You clearly want to be near her, and yet, here you are, staying away from her because you haven't a clue how to face her after the traumatising ordeal you put her through yesterday."

That finally piqued Seonghwa's attention, prompting him to sit up straighter, though he attempted to maintain a nonchalant demeanour, "H-how did you figure that out?"

Without waiting for Wooyoung's response, he shook his head, "No, wait, actually, I don't want to know that. Just tell me... what should I do? I realise I haven't considered well enough what she went through, but I... I've never had to care for someone like this before, and I'm not really sure how to..."

The investigator offered an understanding smile, "My lord, the key to any relationship is communication. You need to talk to Lady Park. Ask her how she's feeling, and tell her you're sorry for what she went through. Avoiding each other won't solve anything; it will only create more distance between you two. You're her pillar of support now, and she needs to feel that you're there for her. You both deserve happiness, but it starts with open and honest communication."

Absorbing the advice, the general nodded thoughtfully, "You're right, Wooyoung. I appreciate your straightforwardness. I'll go talk to her and make things right."

Without hesitating, he sprang from his chair and made his way out of the study. The assistant and his friend couldn't contain their laughter, covering their mouths with their hands, but quickly composed themselves when Seonghwa glanced back at them, "Oh, and please, accept the bonus. You deserve it, especially after this."

Before Wooyoung could object, he had already exited the room and was rushing down the path toward the House of Lotus, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing his wife again.

He remembered how quiet you had been during the entire journey back home the day before, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. While you weren't overtly distant or cold to him, you seemed lost in thought throughout dinner. You excused yourself early, retiring to your quarters. The atmosphere carried an unspoken tension, making him hesitant to say anything for fear of your potential reaction.

Reflecting on it, he realised he should have assured you that things would be better from that point forward. Rather than maintaining a facade of normalcy, he regretted not breaking the silence and being there for you in that moment of unease.

His steps hesitated, and his breath deepened as you finally appeared in his line of sight, seated alone in the pavilion outside your room. Your lady etiquette books lay open beside you, but the faraway look in your eyes remained glued to the horizon beyond the lotus pond. For a moment, he stood there, appreciating your beauty, suddenly feeling thankful you looked nothing like your father.

However, as soon as you turned your head slightly and noticed him standing by the entrance, he blinked rapidly, feeling flustered. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and approached you.

Just go talk to her, you fool.

Seeing him approach, you closed the books and made room for him to sit in the small pavilion. He offered a warm smile, "Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you or anything."

Shaking your head, you returned a small smile, "No, not at all. I tried to study, but I just... I couldn't."

As he settled down beside you, reaching for your hand, you didn't flinch or pull away. He released a relieved breath and moved closer, "It's alright, you don't have to force yourself. I know you're probably upset with me. I... I'm sorry, my dear."

Lifting your head to meet his eyes, you furrowed your brows, "What? Why would I be upset with you?"

He winced, wondering if you were intentionally testing him to see if he knew what he did wrong. But then again, he knew you would never do anything like that. Sighing, he admitted, "Look, I know I should've thought things through better yesterday. I was so focused on wanting to punish your family for what they did, I forgot about how horrible it must have been for you to go back there and sit through all of that."

"I acknowledge it was a mistake. My intention was to give you a chance to confront your family by taking you to your old room. I didn't think it would affect you so badly. I realise now that it was a misguided decision, and I regret taking you back to that place. I'm a goddamned idiot."

His admission tugged at your heart, and you responded by placing a comforting hand over his.

"Seonghwa, you're not an idiot. I'm not upset with you," You assured him, "I've been quiet since the visit because I'm still processing the fact that my own father killed my mother. All this time, I believed she died from sickness. Now, I can't help but wonder how different my life would have been if only she were still alive. He took her away from me just like that, and for what? All for his own selfish reasons..."

"I just... I feel so—" Tears welled up in your eyes, and your voice broke, "I-I'm sorry..." You pulled your hands away from him, attempting to wipe your eyes, but he gently grasped your shoulders and turned you to face him.

"No, you need to stop apologising. You have every right to be sad, and I'm here to tell you that you never have to endure any more of the pain you're going through alone. I'm here for you, okay? From now on, I want you to lean on me whenever things get too unbearable. Can you do that?"

Feeling the genuine warmth in Seonghwa's tone and seeing the unmistakable care in his eyes, you finally broke down. The weight of the revelations, the pain of your father's actions, and the years of emotional torment spilt over, and you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. He pulled you close, cradling you in his arms as you sobbed against his shoulder.

Whispering comforting words into your ear, he pressed gentle kisses onto the top of your head. His touch was a soothing balm, providing the comfort and support you desperately needed in that moment. As you let out your emotions, he held you tighter.

The sound of your heart-wrenching cries only caused an uncomfortable squeeze in his heart. The general had never experienced this kind of ache before. Throughout his life, he had always believed that no one had a tougher life than he did. But then you came along, with your fragile form, managing to shake his entire world and alter his perspectives on life. All of a sudden, the notion of having someone to protect and care for didn't seem so repulsive, especially when it was you.

You slowly pulled back, staring up at him through your wet lashes, and offered a grateful smile, "Seonghwa, I want to thank you for doing all this for me. I never imagined someone caring enough to go through all that trouble. I promise, in return, I'll try my hardest to be a worthy wife for you."

He wiped away your tears tenderly and gazed into your eyes, "You don't need to prove anything, my love. You're already perfect, just as you are."

Your heart raced, and your eyes widened as you stuttered, "W-wait, what... what did you just call me?"

He stilled, realising the words that had slipped from his mouth before he softened. Leaning close, he pressed his forehead against yours, "My love."

Seonghwa's presence became almost intoxicating. Feeling him so close, as if with a mind of its own, your eyes slowly fluttered closed. He took that as permission to lean in further, and after what felt like an eternity, his lips touched yours in a soft and tentative kiss. When you didn't push him away, he bravely angled his head before pressing his lips firmly against yours.

Finally, our first kiss.

Pulling away after a while to catch your breath, you bit your lip shyly, "I-I'm sorry if I wasn't—"

He shook his head, "Don't worry, it's my first time kissing someone too," He admitted, struggling to take his eyes off your swollen lips. A soft smile played on his lips as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, "Can I..." He asked with half-lidded eyes, and you nodded breathlessly.

Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in another loving kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of each other's presence. His touch was gentle yet filled with a depth of emotion. As the kiss deepened, you felt a rush of emotions, a mix of vulnerability and passion.

Feeling the need for air, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes met, and you could see the affection and sincerity in his gaze, "You're perfect." He whispered, his voice filled with tenderness, realising that kissing you might just be his new favourite thing to do from now onwards. The moment lingered, the air charged with newfound emotions. It was a beginning, a sweet promise of the love that had blossomed between you.

"Your Majesty, please—"

The King slammed his fists against the handle of his throne, causing the minister to gasp and lower his head. He shook like a leaf, awaiting his impending doom as the ruler declared, "I don't want to hear another word from you, Jang. You're a bloody disappointment. Actually, you're worse than that, you monster."

Kneeling beside your father were your stepmother and stepsisters, equally trembling. Pathetic tears rolled down their cheeks as they attempted to put on a pity show, hoping to move His Majesty's heart. However, their efforts did little to appease his rage. He scoffed in disbelief at their audacity to cry, considering all the despicable things they had done to you and your mother.

This marked the first time the four women had set foot in the palace, and little did they anticipate it would be under such circumstances. The visit might also be their only time here, as the imminent judgement from the King would decide their fate.

Seonghwa stood in the corner, arms crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face. He left home that morning after a lingering kiss on your lips, feeling rejuvenated and determined. Choosing not to burden you with the details of today's assembly, he shielded you from further thoughts about your family.

Don't worry, my love. I'll make sure they suffer a punishment worse than death.

"I can't stand to look at you imbeciles for another moment longer. Let's get this over with already. Royal Secretary Choi, would you be so kind as to enlighten us with all of Minister Jang's crimes and his punishments?" said the King.

Stepping forward from his corner next to the throne, San bowed, "As you wish, Your Majesty," Tugging open the scroll in his hands, he began reading out loud, "Minister Jang has committed a total of five crimes. First, he committed adultery voluntarily, and for that, he will be whipped with eighty lashes. Second, he committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, he will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

Dread filled the minister as he gulped, anxiously listening to the secretary move on to the next section, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of his own daughter, an innocent citizen, he will be flogged thirty times. Next, for violating the code of ethics as a minister, which is to be a law-abiding citizen, he will be stripped of his title and flogged another twenty times."

As your father's hands trembled, he attempted to hold himself up by pressing his sweaty palms against the floor, breathing heavily as he awaited the final and most severe punishment. San continued, "And finally, for the murder of his first wife, an innocent citizen, he will be sentenced to permanent exile."

That's... it?

Feeling a sliver of hope, the old man let out a small sigh of relief. At least it wasn't death by beheading or arsenic poisoning as he had feared. Banishment seemed acceptable; he supposed he could still live a quiet life somewhere away from here. Bowing deeply, he cried, "Thank you, Your Majesty! Your grace is immeasurable!"

All the ministers and officials present quickly stole glances at Seonghwa, wondering if he would throw a fit and object to the punishment that was yet to be the heaviest one. However, they failed to discern his feelings, as there was only an unreadable smirk on his handsome face.

Lady Jang and her daughters trembled as they awaited their turn. With a nod from the King, the secretary continued, "Moving on, Lady Jang has committed a total of four crimes. First, she voluntarily committed adultery, and for that, she will be whipped eighty lashes. Second, she committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, she will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

She nodded to herself, seemingly already accepting her fate, as she listened, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, she will be flogged thirty times. And finally, for being an accomplice to the murder of the first Lady Jang, she will be sentenced to penal servitude for life."

Her eyes shot up immediately, finding it hard to accept that she would be separated from her husband. She had believed she, too, would be exiled along with him. But she quickly lowered her gaze as soon as she saw the glare the King had directed at her, as if daring her to complain about it.

Oh god, my life is over...

Noticing the King's patience wearing thin, San quickly concluded with the final sentencing, "Lastly, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, the three young misses of the Jang family will be flogged thirty times each and sentenced to penal servitude for a total of thirty years."

All three of the sisters' jaws fell slack at their punishment. After living luxurious lives like spoiled brats for so long, they were now expected to be servants, performing hard labour for three decades. All their dreams of getting married and leading comfortable lives were shattered. The prospect of finding suitors after serving their sentences seemed bleak. Their lives were forever ruined, and things would never be the same.

"Now that that's settled, remove these individuals from my sight, and see to it that they receive their physical punishments by today. I don't want their presence contaminating my palace walls any longer than necessary. Moving on to the next agenda, let us discuss who will stand in as the interim Minister of Military Affairs until we elect a new one." The ruler grumbled, waving his hands dismissively.

Seonghwa grinned smugly, relishing the way your father's face fell as he absorbed His Majesty's words. The King fully intended to drive the point home, reminding him that, no matter how much he believed he contributed to the nation, he, too, was just as disposable. Consider it emotional torment for further punishment, if you will.

As the members of the Jang family were forcefully pulled to their feet and guided toward the palace torture chamber where all punishments for criminals were administered, the general bowed deeply, "Your Majesty, forgive this humble subject for not feeling too well. Would it be possible for me to excuse myself from the remainder of today's assembly?"

With a knowing glint in his eyes, the King nodded, "Of course, my boy. Nothing matters more than your well-being. I'll have Royal Secretary Choi send you the minutes of today's meeting later on."

All eyes were fixed on your husband as he confidently exited the hall, wearing an excessively pleased expression, looking a little too content to be feeling unwell as he had claimed. It became evident to everyone that he was plotting something, a scheme that even His Majesty was privy to and had tacitly approved.

"P-please, have mercy!"

Screams reverberated within the dim and eerie confines of the torture chamber, a place the general once frequented during his duties of interrogating spies, war criminals, and suspicious individuals to maintain peace within the nation.

The familiar sounds of your family's agonising cries filled his ears, and he couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips as he entered, "Ah yes, music to my ears."

Upon his arrival, all the royal guards present swiftly bowed deeply and greeted Seonghwa with respect, "Good day, General Park!" They dared not continue until he gave them a nod, "Go on, don't let me stop you. I'm only here to enjoy the show."

"Yes, sir!" They chanted in unison. To many young soldiers and palace guards, he was akin to a god, an embodiment of success they aspired to achieve one day. Therefore, his mere presence motivated them to perform their duties with increased ruthlessness and precision.

Taking a seat in the centre of the room, your husband bit his lip with a smug expression, locking eyes with your father whose gaze reflected anguish. The elderly man lay face down on a wooden table, enduring lash after lash on his already bloody and battered back. His painful ordeal was far from over.

Whimpering, your father pleaded, "S-Seonghwa, I'm s-still your father-in-law! Please, at least show a little mercy to your wife's father!" Beside him, his wife nodded pathetically, sharing the same painful fate. Meanwhile, the three daughters stood frozen in a corner, wrists cuffed, awaiting their turn to face their beatings.

A devilish laughter escaped the general as he shot a menacing glare at the former minister, "Oh, I'm sorry, was that supposed to make things any better? I would show you mercy if only you had shown my wife any. You shouldn't have said anything, you fool," Turning to the guard in charge of whipping your father, your husband ordered, "Not hard enough, soldier. I want to see his skin tear."

"Yes, sir!" Striking with increased force, the lashes landed on the old man's back, inflicting wounds that would take months to heal. The continuous shrieks of pain only served to widen the smile on Seonghwa's face, "And to think you were thanking His Majesty for his grace; you've underestimated the severity of being whipped, haven't you? Did you really think you were going to walk out of here with a small bruise? Dream on."

"Oh, I can't wait for all of you to experience the wonders of flogging! It will be delightful, a punishment perfectly suited for your kind." The general sang, eyeing the three girls slyly.

They cowered under his intense gaze, suddenly regretting every action they took on the day of your visit. Perhaps if they hadn't attempted any of those, they might have gotten away with a lighter sentence. But there was no point dwelling on such thoughts now.

"Father! Mother!" The girls cried, witnessing their parents only now completing the first half of their punishment. Before they could continue their wailing, guards approached them, saying, "Quiet down! Worry about yourselves instead; it's your turn."

The former minister and his wife looked practically lifeless by the time the guards were finished with their hundred lashes each. The skin on their backs was completely torn open, blood gushing out relentlessly. They were nearly unconscious by the time the guards moved them to separate poles, where they would be beaten with a heavy stick all over their bodies.

Letting out a small yawn, Seonghwa signalled for them to prepare for the flogging. This would be entertaining to witness; most criminals barely survived this punishment by the time it concluded. He would relish the idea of them being left in critical conditions.

"Enjoy yourselves! Thirty times each for what you've all done to my wife – just the perfect amount to leave you halfway to hell. Don't worry; you'll wish you were dead by the end of this. But rest assured, we will keep you alive," Your husband exclaimed with a clap of his hands, "Now, I want you to think of all the things you've done to my wife as you endure this. Can we all do that?"

In the ensuing silence, the guards approached each family member, forcefully striking them with the heavy sticks in their hands. With just one hit, all of them began howling in pain, "Answer the general! Can you all do as you are told?!"

"Y-yes! Yes!" All five of them sobbed miserably, and the general beamed, "Fantastic! Now, let the official flogging begin! The first one does not count, alright? Consider it warm up!"

The insanity in his eyes was genuinely terrifying, and your family was once again reminded of his reputation. Suddenly, it all made sense. This was how it felt to be a victim of his cruelty. They never should have sent you to him; that was their biggest mistake, and nothing they do or say could ever change that now.

"Yes, sir!"

And so it began, the screams that now filled the room were even more piercing than the ones during the first round of whipping.

Approaching each family member one by one, Seonghwa smirked, "Remember all the times you starved her?" Jinjoo nodded in between shrieks, "Good. And you, recall all the times you insulted her and made her feel small?" Jinhee repeated her sister's actions, nodding furiously, "Very good. And you, remember all the times you did something wrong and blamed it on her so that she would take your punishments for you?"

Jinah cried, tears and snot running down her sweaty face, "I'm sorry!" He shook his head, "Will saying a useless sorry change anything? Nope. Hit her harder, soldier," With a grin of approval, he moved on to your stepmother, "And you, recall all the times you kept her locked up in that prison cell you call her room?" Not wanting to suffer like her eldest, she nodded aggressively, "Good."

Finally stopping in front of your father, he crossed his arms over his chest, "And you, remember all the times you laid your hands on her? Your own daughter?" The former minister nodded quickly but was not spared, "Good, hit him even harder so he never forgets how it feels."

"Twenty-nine, thirty." The beatings stopped for the four women, and they collapsed one by one onto the floor like rag dolls. Blood trickled from their noses and the corners of their lips, their bodies covered in countless bruises and open wounds, soaking their clothes red. And that is only what can be seen on the outside; who knew what fatal internal injuries they could be suffering from.

With his hands propped on his hips, Seonghwa took in the sight with satisfaction, "Very well, some of these scars should last you for life. Now, you look as bad as the way you'd left my wife. Actually, worse. But that's good. I'm very happy with the outcome. Guards, take them away and make sure to send them to places where they're known to treat their servants poorly."

The girls sobbed upon hearing that, "General, please, have mercy! We've already suffered enough!" Your husband scoffed, "Mercy? Have you not been paying attention this entire time? I'm not known for that. Get them out of my sight."

As the guards dragged the wailing women out, they cried for their husband and father. The former minister yelled, still taking his twenty additional beatings as he watched his wife and daughters go, "W-will you not at least let me say my final goodbyes to them?"

"Minister, please don't make me laugh. Did you also allow my wife and her poor mother a final goodbye?" The old man had nothing to say at that, grunts of pain escaping his lips as he tried to endure the remainder of his punishment despite feeling like all of his insides had been beaten to mush at this point. He didn't have to look down to know that he was soaked in blood; he could feel the sting on his wounds whenever the slightest bit of wind blew past.

Just a bit more, and I'm free.

« Preview of Part 11 »

"Forty-nine, fifty." Your father sighed in relief when the punishment finally ceased. Collapsing to the ground upon being untied, he stared blankly ahead, feeling pain throughout his entire body. Slowly but surely, he slipped into unconsciousness due to the loss of blood.

Unfortunately, his respite was short-lived. A bucket of dirty water was abruptly dumped over him, causing him to scream in agony as the injuries on his body stung intensely, bringing tears to his eyes.

"Did you think it was over?" His blood ran cold as he noticed he was now tied to a chair, unable to move. With most of the guards gone, only him and Seonghwa remained.

"What do you think you're doing, general? I've completed all my physical punishments; you're supposed to banish me now!" The old man croaked, his eyes widening in fear as he noticed the dagger in your husband's hand.

The general burst into laughter, "Oh, minister, you can be quite slow at times. Did you genuinely believe that His Majesty's decision not to sentence you to death was an act of kindness? Who do you think requested your exile?"

"Y-you—"

Seonghwa smirked, "Indeed, it was me. Killing you would have been too merciful. No, I want you to endure a life so filled with pain that you wish for death every single day. Now, after seeing how skilled you were at begging all day, I believe you'd make a very talented beggar. Do you know what would make you a successful beggar?"

Tears streaming down his face, your father shook his head hopelessly as your husband traced the blade against his skin before whispering, "One without limbs."

That was the most violence I have ever written HAHA I had to channel my inner Joker for Seonghwa's character. Anyway, I hope that was satisfying enough!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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Tag list (cont.): see comment/reply section

#edenesth #the way to this heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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apute11as · 1 year ago

Text

Chosen family - Barcelona femeni x teen!reader

Summary: You’ve been keeping a secret for too long and the team start to figure it out and how to help you through it!

Warnings⚠️ Abus3, vi0lence, loss of parents, descriptions of injury, angst, hurt comfort, fluff

Author note: hey guys this is an angsty one, don’t read if you get triggered by any of the themes above! Hope everyone is well, I’ll be posting at lot more soon just getting through exam season right now! But yeah enjoy the story, leave any feedback or requests in the comments 🩷

P.s. My DMs are always open for anything, Woso related or if you just want to talk! Always here for anything xx

~~~~~~~~~~

You tried to push down the worry of your current situation as you got ready for training in your room. You were only 16 years old, due to your mother passing a year ago, you lived with your father in Barcelona.

The team knew about all of this of course, Alexia more than anyone had been especially supportive, knowing how it felt having lost her father when she wasn’t much older than you. She’d become somewhat of a sister to you. Her, alba and Eli becoming the female figures you lacked in your life, always offering advice and help whenever you needed it.

They knew your father wasn’t the most loving and that since your mother’s passing he’d become a cruel depiction of his former self. What they didn’t know was quite how deep that cruelty ran. He had turned to drinking when your mother had died, you regularly came home from training to find him passed out from the alcohol. It had started as pitiful, he’d just cry and you’d hug him and the two of you would comfort each other, but recently his sadness had turned to anger.

He’d always had a temper and was never the nicest but your mother’s warm presence always made his outbursts bearable but now that she was gone he had no one to regulate that anger. At first it started with hurtful words, some aimed at you and some not but in recent times, his anger had turned physical.

The first time he hit you, you’d wanted nothing more than to cry into Alexia’s arms and have her tell you everything was going to be ok. You decided against that, using your better judgment that it would cause a complicated mess that you didn’t want to condemn her to. It had happened twice more since, on Monday he’d shoved you backwards into a wardrobe, causing you to cut your head, something you’d brushed off as tripping and falling which the team seemed to buy. Yesterday he’d grabbed you by the wrists and squeezed until bruises formed, before pushing you into the table where you bashed your ribs.

Now as you observed yourself in the mirror, you could see the dark bruises that had already formed across your stomach and ribs, matching ones adorned your wrists. You pulled your hoodie over your head and slung your bag over your shoulder, wincing slightly as it came back round and hit your side.

Ingrid and Mapi would be here to pick you up soon as they’d starting taking you to training as you’d told them your father picked up earlier shifts at work (also known as day drinking). Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door you leaped from your spot in the kitchen and went to open it. You of course, were met with the faces of Mapi and Ingrid who smiled widely at you.

“Hola pequeña!” beamed Mapi

“Hola Mapi” you sighed. What you weren’t expecting was for her to barge through the door.

“Sorry bebita I just need to fill up my water. Someone decided to take a sharp turn whilst I was having a drink.” She explained, gesturing to Ingrid who looked unimpressed at the blonde’s antics.

“Woah what’s all this?” She questioned at the various, empty beer and rum bottles that littered your kitchen.

“Erm my dad had some people over yesterday that’s all” you offered nervously

“Seems like they had quite a party” she said, getting at the sheer quantity of it with a raised eyebrow.

“Haha yeah I don’t know I wasn’t there” you replied

“Wait where were you then?” asked Ingrid, asserting herself into the conversation

“Well… I was at my friend’s house for a bit, then I came home” you offered, unconvincingly.

“Oh ok then, well grown adults really should be clearing up after themselves, we can swing by after and help you if your dad is at work?” Added Mapi

“NO!” You yelled, alarming the pair of them. “Sorry, no thank you he’ll be home later and said he’d sort it but thanks anyways” you said, attempting to save yourself due to the accidental outburst.

“Sure that’s fine…” Mapi replied, sounding unsure

“Ready to go now?” Questioned Ingrid from her new found position in the hallway

“Yep so ready!” You responded

The drive to training was slightly awkward, so you’d ask for some music in an attempt to diffuse the situation (it had little effect).

——

Upon reaching the ground, you hurried out the car and wandered a little ahead, fully aware of the fact that they strolled behind muttering about your odd behaviour. You made it inside with the couple trailing a few paces behind you and were met with the smiling face of Lucy bronze.

“Hey y/n how are you?” She beamed

“Hey Luce I’m good how are you?” You replied, offering her a smile of your own

“Good good, Keira kept pestering me about being late this morning though” she said with a sigh

“You were still in bed when we were leaving in 30 minutes!” Keira insisted with an eye roll.

You chuckled at the couple’s childlike antics as you walked over to your locker and began stripping off your clothing when you heard a sharp intake of breath next to you.

“What?” You questioned the English defender

“What happened to your ribs?” She asked in a hushed voice

“Mierda, I forgot about them. I erm tripped… and fell… into the bed post” you replied, knowing you had to work on your lying.

“It looks quite painful and it’s all around your front and sides, how can you do that from falling?” Asked Lucy, concern lacing her voice

“I just did ok, leave it please!” You demanded with a huff, pulling your jersey over your head.

Lucy didn’t push further, though she did make a mental note to keep an eye on you.

——

When you finally made it outside you were met with the warm Catalonian sun beaming down on your face. You had a mandatory team talk and then Jonatan, as usual asked you to pair up. Without a second thought, alexia gripped your wrists and dragged you to her to partner up. You winced noticeably at the gesture as her firm grip found its self on the new formed bruises from yesterday.

“Estas bien pequeña (are you ok)” she questioned with a concerned expression

“Si Ale estoy bien (I’m ok)” you assured the older girl.

“What’s this on your wrists?” She inquired with a firm tone. “Did I do this?” she was now increasingly concerned.

“No no you didn’t do it it was already there” you replied hurriedly

“What was it from?” She questioned further

“Erm from… the match? I had a tussle with someone she gripped my wrists too hard” you lied

“You’re lying to me bebita I can see it in your eyes” she scolded “but why are you lying I don’t understand” her brow furrowed

“Alexia! Y/N! Stop gossiping and get over here!” Yelled Mapi in a teasing tone, a tone that only she could get away with using towards Alexia due to their close friendship

“ay dios mío Maria we’re coming” replied Alexia and before she could say anything more you’d disappeared, already jogging over to join the group and no doubt, avoid her further questioning.

——

Training ended and you rushed ahead, desperate to get away asap to avoid questioning from the multiple behaviours that had noticed your odd behaviour or the state of your body.

You reached the changing room out of breath (more so from sprinting over there than the actual 2 hour training session you’d just attended). You quickly shoved your stuff into your bag and began to scramble away before your upper arm was grasped.

“Where do you think you’re going” rung the voice of Lucy Bronze

“Home?” You replied as if it were obvious

“I thought Alexia was taking you home?” She questioned

“Oh erm yeah tell her it’s ok I’m gonna take a bus” you offered hoping she’d leave you alone

“Alexia come here” beckoned Lucy, her body shielding you from the exit, as you groaned at the implications of this conversation.

“Que pasa?” Questioned alexia with curiosity

“Y/N says she’s getting the bus home” grasped Lucy

“No she’s coming with me? I’m taking her home” she was confused.

“I think the two of you need to have a chat” suggested the brunette

“Yes I think so too” Alexia responded, her disapproval clear in her voice.

The two of you wandered to her car silently, she kept glancing over at you, almost to check you hadn’t disappeared again. She even opened the car door and watched you get in to ensure your presence.

The drive started in silence yet again, with you picking at the skin on your fingernails, but that was short lived.

“Bebita please answer me truthfully when I ask you this…” Alexia began, her eyes not leaving the road ahead. “What happened to your wrists and ribs? Yes Lucy told me about that before you change the subject again” she finished

“I don’t know what to say Ale” you said, your eyes beginning to gloss over.

“The truth Por favor amor” she insisted, her eyes still not looking at yours.

“My papa, he’s taken up drinking lately, quite heavily and it’s changed him” you started

Alexia knew where this was going but she let you finish, unsure of what to say even when you did.

“He-he gets angry now all the time. He used to be an angry person anyways but Mama always used to calm him down and now she’s gone I just-“ you choked back on tears.

Alexia had pulled the car over and took your hand it hers, squeezing gently as if willing you to continue.

“He would shout at me, come home drunk and just scream” you continued. “It wasn’t physical for a while it was just words, b-but recently…” you trailed off once more, finally meeting Alexia’s eyes that were glossed over and full of sadness. “Recently he started to do other things. He hit me and threw me into things, like in something to take his anger out on” Alexia’s grip lay firmer on your hand as she let you finish. “It’s like he’s a different person lo siento” you spluttered as the tears streamed down your face

“Bebita you have nothing! And I mean nothing to be sorry about. I’m sorry that we didn’t notice sooner�� she replied with a maternal warmth in voice.

“It’s ok Ale I was trying to hide it” you added, calming down a little.

“But why pequeña? We could’ve helped you” tears were threatening to fall from her eyes now.

“But all that would happen is I’d end up in care or on my own and I can’t do that Ale, anyone is better than no one at all” you urged.

“You would have had me! You do have me!” She corrected.

“I know Alexia and I love you so much for that but I couldn’t live with you, interrupt your life, how would you girlfriend feel?” You questioned the blonde.

“She would understand bebita you know that really” insisted Alexia.

“What am I going to do” you cried

“Is he home?” She asked

“Who?” You rebounded

“Your papa” Alexia winced at the name that in her opinion, that man was no longer worthy of.

“No he’ll be at the bar for at least a few more hours”

“Bueno, we’re going to go back to your apartment and gather some stuff and then we’re going to drive to my Mami’s okay?”

“Okay” you weren’t overly convinced yet you still went along with the older girl’s plan, praying your father hadn’t decided to make an early departure from the bar.

——

Upon reaching your apartment block, you gave Alexia your keys as she insisted she would go first, keeping a protective arm on your body behind hers. You let out a sigh of relief when you realised your father was still out.

Alexia’s eyes scanned the floor, taking in the broken glass and general mess everywhere, the two of you tread carefully over to your room. The first thing Alexia noticed upon entering was the sheer contrast of your bedroom, to the rest of the house. It was near spotless, with most of your belongings having seemingly vanished.

“I put most of it under my bed or in the wardrobe” you proclaimed, as if you’d just read her mind. “I didn’t want to give him any extra ammo” you half joked, but Alexia didn’t laugh, instead she pulled you into a tight hug, a hug that said more than words ever could.

You pulled away eventually, realising that you were going to have to start doing some packing as every minute that ticked by was time closer to your father coming home. You started by gathering up your football gear, as it was likely your most important possessions, asides from your memory box that you’d made up when your mother had passed. Standing there for a second, you ran your hands over the cold metal of the lid, reminiscing on a time when your family was “perfect” and things were much happier.

Alexia on the other side of your room, was gathering up some clothes for you. On another day, you’d cringe at the fact that your captain was rummaging through your underwear drawer, but today was not that day.

“Almost done bebé?” questioned the midfielder

“So just gathering some last bits” you assured her, before piling a couple of textbooks, your water bottle and your laptop into your bag.

Just as the two of you made your way out of the bedroom, your mind clicked.

“Wait!” you urged

Alexia turned around at rapid speed, a mix of confusion and concern overtaking her. But before she could question you, you reappeared at the door holding a stuffed bear.

“Sorry it’s childish, it’s just something my Abuela gave me when I was younger”

“No no not childish at all, it’s sweet actually” she smiled. “Don’t tell anyone but I’ve still got my childhood teddy bear at the back of my wardrobe” she admitted

“Really?”

“Sí, now vamos cariño” she insisted

——

You loaded your stuff into Alexia’s cupra before walking around to open the passenger seat door, Alexia following suit.

“I’ve text Mami telling her what’s happened and she said you’re more than welcome to stay at hers” offered the captain “if you’d rather stay with me that’s perfectly fine, I have a spare room, you’ll have to share with the Nala though” she chuckled.

“Thank you Alexia, I’m honestly happy either way I’m just so grateful you’ve been so kind” you replied genuinely.

“Don’t thank me chica te amo mucho ok? If you ever need anything or anyone I’m here, remember that.”

“Gracias Ale”

——

The journey to Eli’s was short and once you’d arrived, Alexia made quick work of unloading your minimal bags and carrying them all herself, despite your protests.

She did however hand one to you when the two of you reached the door, just so that she had a spare hand to knock with, which she did.

The door opened and you were surprisingly greeted with the face of Alba, Alexia’s younger sister.

“Hola chica, it’s been a while” she hugged you, albeit lighter than normal (the first indicator that her mother had told her everything).

“I saw you last week Albs” you smiled

“Oh yes… well it’s been a while anyways” she laughed awkwardly

“Hola mija” came Eli’s voice from behind

“Hola Mrs putellas, thank you so much for offering me a room” you smiled and hugged her back.

“I’ve told you call me Eli, and it’s no problem at all. I hope you don’t mind but Alexia told us what happened, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, you’re basically my daughter already”

She wasn’t wrong, even before your father’s drinking problem, you were here at least once a week for dinner (Alexia and Alba insisting you were their mother’s favourite child, to which she didn’t disagree with).

“Gracias Eli” you smiled at her

——

The four of you sat and ate dinner and discussed what was to happen, ultimately deciding you’d stay with Alexia for a little while as her apartment was closer to the training grounds and it would be easier for her to take you with her everyday. Then it was decided that Eli would file for your adoption, something you knew your father would agree to as just he wasn’t himself anymore. You’d set him up in rehabilitation for his alcoholism and see to it that he gets better.

Despite Alexia’s disapproval, you’d decided not to file a statement and testify against your father, stating that it would cause unnecessary issues and that you’d be far away from him anyways. Eventually, all was agreed and you and Alexia returned home to inform Olga of the plans, which to your slight surprise, she was completely okay with.

Alexia decided that the two of you wouldn’t attend training this week, you had no match anyways due to it being Christmas break so the two of you spent some time together. This helped not only you, but her more than you’d ever know. Ultimately, you decided that you’d tell the team what happened after the break, deciding now to enjoy the holidays with your knew found family.

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #espwnt x reader #fcb femeni x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #mapi leon x reader #ingrid engen x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #I need Christmas asap

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ashwhowrites · 5 months ago

Note

can you pleaseeeee write something like this but for robin? instead, it's just steve who keeps interrupting them. 💀 "damn it dingus you really need a girlfriend."

also, thank you so much for taking time out of your day to always post such amazing works for us to read 🫶

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Interuptions

Robin giggled as she dragged her girlfriend into the video store closet.

"You're on the clock, Buckley" Y/N teased, but doing nothing to stop her girlfriend's wandering hands.

"Just a few minutes, Steve will survive" Robin said, her lips kissing the sweet spot on Y/N's neck. Y/N gave in, shivering as Robin's lips moved around her neck. She stretched out her neck, giving Robin more access.

Within minutes the two were in a heated make out session. Robin had Y/N pushed against the wall, her hand under Y/N's bra. Y/N tried to quiet her moans as Robin played with her nipples.

The two jumped apart when the door swung open. Steve on the other side.

"I thought you locked it!" Y/N whispered harshly

Robin rolled her eyes and walked out of the closet, shoving Steve aside.

Robin moaned as Y/N's tongue swirled around her clit. Her back arched off the bed and her hands were tangled in Y/N's hair.

Robin had no shame as she rode Y/N's tongue, whimpering and whining loudly. Robin loved when her girlfriend ate her out, she was skilled and knew how to make Robin melt into the mattress.

"Close" Robin choked out

"BUCKLEY!"

Robin panicked and threw the blanket over her girlfriend. Y/N under the blanket as she covered her mouth with her hand. She clenched her eyes shut, knowing if she kept them open she'd get lost in the sight of Robin's wet cunt. Robin pushed down her shirt and tried to look presentable.

Robin panted as Steve walked through her open bedroom door.

"Are you ready?" Steve asked, completely oblivious to Y/N hiding in between Robin's thighs.

"For?"

"I have a date and need you to be there In case I need to escape!" Steve explained. "Now hurry, gotta leave like yesterday."

Robin groaned as Steve walked out of her room. Y/N slipped out from the blanket, wiping her mouth.

"Maybe next time?" Y/N offered with a smile

Steve was passed out drunk on Robin's couch, a long night of partying left him unconscious.

Robin waited until Steve began to snore before she got up. Walking as quietly as she could to her bedroom. She creeped in, Y/N was rubbing lotion on her legs. Her hair was still wet from the shower and she only wore a towel.

Robin closed the door behind her, a smirk on her face as she crawled on the bed. She pushed Y/N's wet hair to the side and pressed kisses to her naked skin.

"Smell amazing" Robin hummed, her hands easily moving down to Y/N's thighs. Y/N felt herself getting turned on as her girlfriend rubbed her thighs. Robin inched closer to Y/N's cunt. Using one finger to slide up and down her cunt, Y/N shivered and whined for more.

Robin took mercy on her and sunk two fingers inside her girlfriend. Y/N let out a low moan as Robin's fingers moved inside of her, Y/N clenched around her.

"Yeah? That feels good?" Robin cooed in Y/N's ear.

"Fuck, Rob" Y/N moaned

Robin smirked and slipped in another finger.

"Rub your clit for me, baby" Robin demanded. She picked up her pace, fucking Y/N harder as Y/N played with her clit. Y/N threw her head back as she circled her clit, her brain fuzzy as Robin's fingers hit every spot inside of her.

"I need to cum" Y/N whined, rubbing her clit as fast as she could as Robin fucked her.

"Right there!" Y/N gasped, "there fuck"

"ROBIN I NEED TO PUKE!" Steve's loud voice cut through the room. Both girls groaned with frustration as Robin removed her fingers.

Robin dropped her forehead against Y/N's shoulder.

"I'm going to kill him" Robin growled as she got up, slamming the bedroom door behind her.

Y/N and Robin were tangled together in Y/N's sheets. One place they figured they could escape from Steve. Their clothes were scattered on her bedroom floor.

Robin panted as she moved her hips against Y/N's thigh. Robin's bare cunt easily move against Y/N's skin, the pressure was perfect against Robin's clit. Y/N held Robin's hips in a bruising grip.

"That's it, Roby. Ride my thigh like a good girl" Y/N teased, her lips in a smirk as Robin shuttered at the nickname. Robin smashed her hands on the headboard, right above Y/N's head.

Robin rode her thigh desperately, chasing the burning orgasm she needed for weeks. Her skin was drenched in sweat and her thighs began to shake.

Y/N's phone by her bed began to ring, but both girls ignored it. Y/N kept her focus on sucking marks on Robin's skin, and Robin could only hear her breathing pick up as she got closer to her orgasm.

The phone rang again, Y/N picked it up and slammed it down right away, ending the noise.

"Gonna" Robin choked out

"That's it, cu-"

"RINGGGG"

Robin huffed and kept her hips moving as she reached for Y/N's phone. She chucked the whole thing to the floor, yanking the cord out of the wall.

Both girls sighed with relief as no more sound distracted them. Robin thrashed on Y/N's thigh, her cum soaking Y/N's skin as Robin cried out. Robin rode out her orgasm, her hips jolting as the pleasure became painful.

Robin shivered at the sensitivity on her clit when Y/N gently pushed her off. She pushed Robin on her back and moved between her legs, Robin shuddered as Y/N's tongue flattened in between her folds, licking up all the cum that ran down Robin's cunt.

Y/N jumped as a loud bang landed on her front door, over and over. She quickly threw on a robe and walked to her window.

"It's Harrigton" Y/N laughed

"He seriously needs to get a girlfriend," Robin said as she rolled her eyes.

#robin buckley x female reader #Robin buckley x reader #robin buckley smut x female reader #Robin buckley x smut #robin buckley requests #ashwhowrites

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engie-ivy · 26 days ago

Text

(December time! Festive fics! Trigger warning: mentions of assault, but nothing graphic. Happy ending though🙂)

1257 words.

When his friends are forced to spend Christmas without Sirius, all they can do is hope for a Christmas miracle.

Until You're Home Again

It’s Gonna Be a Cold Cold Christmas - Dana Scallon

“Hello love,” Remus leans over and kisses Sirius’ cheek. “It's cold outside. You would be freezing, stubbornly insisting on still wearing that leather jacket of yours.”

He takes off his coat and hangs it over the chair, rubbing his hands together to get some warmth in them. Before he sits down, he trails his fingers gently across Sirius’ cheek.

“Oh, before I forget.” He rummages through his coat pocket. “Mary baked you a batch of your favourite cookies. I'll just put them here beside you, so you can eat them when… when you can, okay, love?” His hand trembles slightly as he places the box on Sirius’ bedside table.

“Christmas is coming up soon, you know? I haven't put up the tree this year.” He chuckles. “I can just imagine how you would scold me for my lack of Christmas cheer, wouldn't you, love?”

The only response he gets is the steady beep of the machine.

Lily slides into the chair across from Remus and passes over a hot chocolate. “How was he today?”

Remus shrugs, fiddling with the lid of his cup. “The same, I guess. At least it's not worse, but it's not… better either.”

Lily sighs. “I'm sorry. And any news on the upcoming trial?”

“Our lawyer has suggested postponing,” Remus replies, still staring at his cup. “She says that if we wait, maybe we can charge them with murder instead of attempted murder or aggravated assault.” He swallows. “And I want them to get the maximum sentence, of course I do, but…” He looks up and meets Lily's eyes. “I don't want to lose him. I can't… Oh god, I can't lose him, Lily.” His voice breaks towards the end.

A determined look appears on Lily's face. “She's a lawyer, not a doctor! Whatever she has to say about Sirius waking up or not doesn't matter!”

Remus averts his eyes again. “The doctors aren't giving me much hope either. All they're saying is that they had hoped Sirius would've shown more signs of consciousness by now.”

Lily reaches over and squeezes Remus’ hand. “You should come over to our place after visiting hours tomorrow. It's Christmas Day, and we're all getting together.”

“I don't know, Lils,” Remus replies. “I'm not really in the mood for a celebration.”

“Remus John Lupin,” Lily says sternly. “If you think that we're all merrily going to be singing Christmas carols around the Christmas tree while Sirius is in the hospital in such a state you are sorely mistaken!” She lowers her voice. “We're all going to be miserable. We just figured we could be miserable together.”

“I'm sorry, Lily,” Remus says. “Of course you're not…” He shakes his head. “I'm sorry, and I'd love to come over tomorrow.”

Lily smiles at him. “And who knows, maybe we'll get a Christmas miracle.”

1 year later

“Oi! Those cookies are for tonight!” Mary snatches the box away.

“Awww, come on, Mary,” Sirius pouts. “Last year I wasn't able to eat any. I have to make up for lost time.”

“Sirius Orion Black. Are you using what happened to you as a way to get cookies?”

“It depends,” Sirius says. “Is it working?”

“Dammit, yes, it is.” Mary hands him back the box.

James and Lily come out of the kitchen, just as Marlene and Dorcas arrive. “Dinner is in the oven,” James says. “And should be ready within half an hour.”

“Marls, look!” Sirius says, as Marlene kisses his cheek to greet him. He lifts up his right arm almost over his head. “I almost have full range of motion back in my arm!”

“That's amazing!” Marlene beams at him. “All your hard work in physical therapy is really paying off!”

“And I went to the supermarket on my own yesterday,” Sirius adds.

“Mate, I'm so proud of you!” James places a hand on Sirius’ shoulder as he smiles at him even brighter than Marlene.

Sirius huffs. “You two saving lives in the Emergency Room on a daily basis, acting all proud just because I went to a supermarket.”

“Our jobs have nothing to do with how hard you've been working in exposure therapy,” James says sternly. “What we do for a living doesn't take anything away from your hard-earned progress.”

“Yes,” Marlene agrees. “You're actually facing your fears, which is the most difficult thing anyone can do.”

“And he's not the only one,” Lily whispers, looking at Remus.

Remus bites his lip, because she isn't wrong. Remus has been having… not the easiest time himself.

Sirius needs to learn by exposure that it's safe for him to go outside on his own and he doesn't have to be afraid, and it won't be at all helpful for his progress if his boyfriend would prefer to lock him up inside a room where nothing bad can ever happen to him ever again. Sirius is working very hard in exposure therapy, and the last thing Remus wants is to make it more difficult for him by adding his own worries. Just like Sirius, Remus needs to learn nothing bad is going to happen when Sirius goes out on his own.

But then again, Remus didn't think anything bad was going to happen when Sirius went out for a run that one morning.

“This looks wonderful, James,” Fabian and Gideon say in unison, looking at the table covered with food.

Lily nudges James. “Make a toast, honey.”

Mary looks around the room threateningly, making Peter cower. “My make-up is on point today, so no one dare make me cry.”

James chuckles. “I'll keep it short then. Here's to Christmas Eve all together as it should be!”

Everyone holds up their glasses. “To Christmas Eve all together!”

But before they can all start to eat, Remus scrapes his throat and gets to his feet. “I actually have something to say as well.”

“I'm warning you, Lupin…” Mary says with a glare.

“Last year, I thought I was never going to spend Christmas with you ever again,” Remus speaks, turning to Sirius, who is, of course, sitting next to him. “And that made me realize I never want to spend Christmas without you ever again. Apparently, never leaving you out of my sight for a single moment is considered ‘unhealthy’ according to my therapist. So, since I can't glue myself to your side all day, at least I want to come home to you at the end of the day. Always.” Remus drops down to one knee and pulls out a square box from his inner pocket. He flips it open, displaying an elegant, silver ring. “Sirius Orion Black. Will you marry me?”

“Oh my god.” Sirius presses his hands to his mouth as tears well up in his eyes. “Rem…Really? I mean, are you sure?” He takes one of Remus’ hands in his own, the tears now streaming down his face. “I know I like to show how much better I'm doing, but the truth is, I'm still such a mess. Gods, Rem, I can barely go outside by myself! Are you sure you want to be dealing with all of that?”

“One hundred percent,” Remus replies instantly, though his voice is a little choked by the emotions. “Everything. Forever.”

Sirius searches Remus’ eyes for a moment. “Yes,” he then says. “Yes. Please, yes.” He lets himself fall forward into Remus’ arms.

“Damn you, Remus Lupin,” Mary sobs, mascara streaks running down her cheeks.

“Sorry,” Remus says, but he actually isn't sorry at all. Not with his Christmas miracle in his arms.

#wolfstar holiday fluff #wolfstar christmas fics #wolfstar christmas #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius

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alexa-fika · 10 months ago

Note

Hello! I am the anon who requested the winged!child! Dracule reader, I got so giddy when I saw your reply. And yes the red haired is fine.

Seriously your work is awesome ♡♡

Lost Birds ( Red Haired Pirates x gn!child!Dracule!Reader)

A/N: Guys Finally! After watching the screen for hours it finally hit me and I think I COOKED, also thank you anon l, you’re gonna make me blush. -Yall I fell asleep while writing that this was meant to be posted yesterday 💀

Dividers by @saradika

Yassop sat at the crow’s nest, watching over the ship as usual and looking for any danger to the Red Force; his attention diverted to bustle below him, his crew involved in their usual antics despite the dangers awaiting them upon their arrival.

He glanced at his Captain talking to his first mate; when he first announced they were to head to Marineford, he was surprised, but he never hesitated; he knew what was at stake, how much lives could be lost if this was left alone

His thoughts were quickly interrupted as a sound came from above him; his head shooting up, he promptly took out his weapon and aimed it at an approaching figure, alerting the crew below him

His eyes narrowed as a sound started being heard the closer the figure got

“What is it, Yassop?” Beckman questions from the deck

Yassop stayed silent with his weapons still drawn, his eyes carefully analysing the figure in approaching them,

“We have company,” Yassop finally responded in a calm voice.

“There!” He said shooting towards the figure

“Ah!” Dokucha exclaims quickly, diving down to avoid the shot

“Hey! Mister, that’s rude!” they exclaim, landing on the deck of the ship only to shriek at the sound of a gun being cocked right behind them

Behind them stood Benn Beckman, pointing his weapon at them the rest of the officers not far behind

“Who are you?” He inquired, the usual cigarette resting on his lips, his eyebrows raising as Dokucha turned around, his weapon lowering slightly

“You’re just a kid…wait, you’re…”

“Dokucha?” Asks Shanks, walking closer to the small child kneeling down next to them

“Uncle Shanks? Uncle Shanks!” They laugh, throwing themselves at the man

Shanks laughed, wrapping his arms around the child, who was visibly smaller than him

"It's been a while since I've seen you" he smiled, brushing their hair

“You know them, Cap?” Question Yassop climbing down from his previous spot

“Did you drink too much yassop, or did you forget their face?” Pipes Beckman

Yassop Glances at the kid for a few seconds, taking notice of the wings, quickly realizing that not only were those the source of the noise that had alerted him before but that they were too familiar to him

He turns his head around in a flash as recognition washes in his features

“This is Hawkeyes kid?!”

“Papa?” The kid questions happily hearing their father's nickname

Beckmann sighs at this

“What are you doing here?”

“Umm, Papa went somewhere, and I wanted to fly for a bit; I flew too far and got lost.”

Shanks snickers at their words, standing up and ruffling their hair

“I think your father is heading to the same place we are headed, so you are in luck.”

“You’ll take me to Papa Uncle Shanks?”

“I’ll take you to him, but be warned,” he says to the child, smiling,” It’ll probably be a bit chaotic when we get there.”

“Okay!” they exclaim, their eyes glancing at the man behind him

“Hey! You were the one shooting me!” they accused, flying towards the sniper

Yasopp laughs, watching the child make a dash at them

“I wasn’t aiming at you, it was a warning shot,” the man replies nervously

“I ‘m sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

“Don’t be hard on the poor man, Dokucha; you did take all of us off guard,” laughed Shanks

“Hmph”

“Just don’t fly too far from our ship,” he says, still ruffling their hair

“I don’t want you getting lost again.”

“Okayyy, Uncle Shanks,”

“Is this really Hawkeye’s kid?” Mutters Hongo, looking at the child

“Im Papa’s kid!” The child cheers

Hongo smiles a bit, shaking his head at the sight

“I like your wings,” he tells the child

“Thank you!” They said, spinning around and flapping their wings

“Mmhm!”

“How do you sleep without smacking your wings everywhere?”

Hongo asks with an amused smile

They gasp offended

“I know how to use them! Let me smack you with them!” They said, shooting toward the doctor

“Still as lively as ever,” Shanks laughs, taking hold of them

“Let me at them, Uncle Shanks!”

“No need for that; Hongo’s one of us,” Shanks responds, putting the child down

“Hongo is our doctor, after all.”

They pout at him

Beckmann raises an eyebrow at the child

“Do you wanna cause a fight, little one?”

“They were insulting my flying!”

Beckmann sighs in amusement at the child

“He was just asking you about your wings.”

“Oh”

He smiles and ruffles the kid's hair,

“Just don’t smack the doctor.”

Okay I admit that ending could use some work but.. yeah thats it it needs more work 😂

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

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rahuratna · 3 months ago

Text

Synopsis: Five different perspectives on Nanami Kento.

Tags: Angst, humour, mystery, character study.

Warnings: canon-typical violence.

"I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.

Whatever I see I swallow immediately

Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.

I am not cruel, only truthful‚

The eye of a little god, four-cornered."

~ The Mirror, Sylvia Plath

Yoshinari remembers that day well. Even now, decades later, his team leader's near-panicked expression stands out with harsh clarity in his mind. Yoshinari had just mentioned that he hadn't finished the analysis due that afternoon because he'd been struck down with a bad bout of flu. Whirling on his heel, the team lead had really let fly with his irritation.

"But we had an agreement! You were to complete the analysis the day before yesterday! There'll be no excuse at all for us walking into that meeting unprepared!"

"But sir ... I had a lot to catch up on that evening. And I - "

"I'm done with this conversation! Come up with something, or explain to the chief why you couldn't finish your basic tasks on time."

Left standing in the empty hallway, Yoshinari had let frustration, anger, self-pity and helplessness wash over him, bitter as a brackish tide. Nobody ever listened to him. Nobody ever understood how the demands of this job couldn't be humanly met unless he practically lived at the office. Nobody cared what his state of health was. Nobody -

"Are you all right?"

Hastily wiping off the corner of his eye, he turned to see none other than Nanami Kento standing in the doorway leading from the hallway to the main office floor. Nanami, whose reports were always turned in on time. Nanami, whose suits were never rumpled, whose clients never complain, whose presentations were always meticulous, who never spilled a drop or wasted a crumb when he ate -

Tamping down the rising envy and resentment for the tall man standing before him, Yoshinari sighed and embraced the inevitable. It isn't Nanami's fault. Nanami is simply doing the job, like the rest of them. He just happened to be a lot more competent at it than most.

"I'm a bit ... under the weather, that's all. There's a meeting this afternoon. I won't be prepared because I haven't had time to get the quarterly analysis done."

Nanami watched him in silence. Yoshinari continued, chest feeling slightly less heavy as he vented to his quiet companion.

"I just wish ... that we were given more value, you know? We're not robots. We're people. And sometimes, we ... I can't get all my tasks done. I just wanted ... some understanding. That's all."

Yoshinari realized just how petulant he sounded the more he spoke. His voice trailed off, and he avoided the other man's gaze. What must Nanami think of someone like him? Did he pity him? Was he annoyed by him and his complaining? Was he indifferent, like everyone else? It was hard to tell.

Nanami never lost his composure, never expressed strong emotion, never seemed anything other than cool and detached. He must think that someone like Yoshinari was worthy of pity and contempt. Nothing more.

Without waiting for Nanami's reply, Yoshinari turned and made his way to the elevators, trying to focus on the client briefing lined up (and not the humiliation and reprimands he'd have to endure later.)

The humiliation never came, though. Walking into the meeting that afternoon, Yoshinari was met with the huffy, slightly startled demeanor of the team leader when he was complimented on his 'sterling work', handed a steaming cup of coffee and patted on the back. He sat through the rest of the meeting in a daze, mind still struggling to grapple with what had occurred.

When he got a chance, he snuck a look at the analysis that supposedly came from him. There, in the phrasing, the layout, the orderly sequences of figures and the in-depth breakdown of each element, he recognises the hand of Nanami Kento.

When the meeting was over, he tried to find Nanami, to thank him for that unexpected favour. A part of him was beginning to take the assistance with a pinch of salt; what did Nanami expect in return for this?

When he eventually spied Nanami, he paused, the report crumpling slightly in his hand. Coat draped over his chair, tie cast over one shoulder, sleeves rolled up and chair reclining, Nanami's hollowed eyes and sharply-defined cheekbones were covered with a white handkerchief, the marks of exhaustion clear in his bearing.

Many years later, watching his grandchildren chase each other around the darkened trunk of a plum tree, a soft, secret smile finds its home on Yoshinari's face as he remembers that day. He glances up at the delicate blossoms, pushing their heads insistently into the fresh bite of a new spring day and wonders if Nanami ever had grandchildren of his own.

Warmth. Kinship. Command.

When Master calls me out, I recognise the tug and relentless pull into another place. This place. This world of scent and colour and sound, where I am given form.

My Master's hands smell of paper, freshly cut apples and grass. They are firm and familiar as their fingers run through my fur. Sometimes, Master brings us out of the other place without urgency, simply to keep us at his side.

Megumi.

That is my Master's given name. He is dark in spirit, light of foot, and his mouth seldom curves, like the other humans. But when we are all together, pack, bodies curled up and sharing warmth, Master's eyes are like a distant lamp, flickering softly.

The white-veined one names my Master as Megumi. He is the one with power like a great summer storm, sweeping with acrid sharpness across the senses and scorching the unseen world in his wake. His hair is white too, his spirit leaping from one focus to the next, lightning and laughter.

The white-veined one is trustworthy. He is pack, but even though Master trusts him completely, he makes others nervous.

And then, there is the Blademaster. This one is almost familiar. He is like Master in many ways. He smells of good food, old leather and the sharp tang of polished metal. His power is an underground river, swift and subtle, rising to a well-controlled roar when he calls upon it.

The Blademaster avoids pack. He likes to sit alone on the benches at sunset, sometimes, with his food in an oval box at his side. He stares a lot into the sky. Only he knows what he sees there.

The sky doesn't hold much interest for me, but the smells from the Blademaster's box always call for attention. He has meat in there. And cheese. Sometimes, if I press my nose into his hand, he shares his food. It is good food. It tastes better when he offers it out of his own palm.

The Blademaster's hand is bigger, rougher around the fingers than Master's. He is an experienced warrior, and he has been in many fights. The scent of it is on him, in ways that cannot be disguised. He carries the smell of old wounds, of battles that etched away at the parts of him than leave no visible scars.

Sometimes, his pain is great. Those times, he needs pack, even if he doesn't know it. I find him, at his bench. Even though he has no food, I sit with him. His fingers in my fur are different, but warm, like Master's.

We watch the sky together.

It's the bustle of the lunch rush that brings him suddenly into her mind; tall, broad-shouldered, imposing in his dark, pinstripe suit. She's seen many, many salarymen enter her establishment over the years, but none quite like him.

He'd seemed hard, humourless, exacting, a man of substance and character, whittled away bit by bit by the hundred inconveniences and troubles of everyday life. Her attempts to cheer him up always fell flat. Her jokes landed like stale bread on a food critic's plate.

"Hey, Nanami! Good to see you! Decided to loaf around on your lunch break again?"

"How am I loafing?"

"Ah, that was just a pun. You know. Because you come here to buy sandwiches."

"Do you charge extra for the puns? Because I'm not paying for that."

"Wow. So cold ... "

And on another occasion:

"Hey Nanami! Knock knock."

" ... "

"You're supposed to say 'who's there?'"

"Who's there."

"As a question, not a statement!"

"Does it matter?"

"Fine. It's doughnut."

"Doughnut who?"

"Dough nut enter the shop without checking out the specials!"

"Please just give me the sandwich."

Ah, those were good times. Maybe he did appreciate her silly attempts at humour on some level. She'd never know.

Sometimes, she wonders if she shouldn't have asked him for help. Maybe she should have just kept her mouth shut about that pesky stiffness and pain in her shoulder joint. There was no way she could have known what would happen next.

She recalls, with perfect clarity, the sudden change in his demeanour. The subtle straightening of his posture, the focus of that intense honey-brown stare, the way he'd looked at and past her, as if glancing through some secret window into an unknown she could never fathom. And then, he'd raised his arm, swung it in that swift, decisive motion, and her pain disappeared in a matter of seconds.

She still wonders how exactly he'd accomplished that. Was he a spiritual healer of some kind? She couldn't think of an occupation less suited to someone like him. All the same, she was thankful. She'd even packed a free almond croissant and coffee with his sandwich the next day, kept aside for the lunch rush.

Except, he'd never shown up. Not that day, or the next, or the day after that. Nanami simply disappeared from the normal routine of his life altogether.

Of course, she made some enqueries. She was somewhat concerned, considering how sudden his absence had been. What if he'd overworked himself enough to end up in hospital? It wasn't unheard of.

His work colleagues, some of whom also frequented the bakery, told her that he'd suddenly up and left. Handed in his resignation and promptly disappeared.

She'd never heard from him, ever again. It wasn't that she was upset or offended. Customers changed their whims daily. But with him ... something about it concerned her. What would prompt a creature of habit, like Nanami, to suddenly change his routine? There was probably a perfectly sound explanation for it, but it worried her all the same.

After all these years, even now, as manager of her own small dessert shop, not far from the original bakery she'd served at, she'd never taken the casse-croûte off the menu.

It would remain there, for the day he might come through the door once again, and she'd say it, just like she'd rehearsed in her mind so many times.

"Welcome back, Nanami. The usual?"

Pain. This is all that she thinks, all that she feels. It is all-consuming. It isn't like the time she broke her finger after a particularly bad fall when she was ten years old. Not even like the wound left when her mother died; gaping, raw around the edges, on display for all that looked her way.

This pain was, somehow, even worse than that. Pain that twisted and tore through the fabric of her, agony piled on agony, neverending. It stretched beyond her, into a night of unknown horrors that she had no means of comprehending.

Something was very, very wrong with her body. This much she could tell, even as she wove in and out of consciousness. The sense of change to her own form, of being maimed in some fundamental sense, was so strong that she wondered how she was still alive.

His hands. So cold. Pain beyond imagining. She doesn't want to enter that forbidden entryway in her thoughts. Someone did this to her. Someone made her helpless, controlled her. Turned her into this grotesque travesty of a living thing. She should feel furious, that this had been done to her. But she doesn't have the capacity for anything but pleading, begging for a swift release from this torment.

Something is shifting around her now. She cannot even brace for the agony, because there are no known muscles for her to do so. Her body feels like a shapeless, amorphous mass that changes according to the unknown puppeteer's will.

Now, she feels the brush of fetid air on her flesh, the dank, mossy wall of some subterranean feature, a dizzying sense of being propelled at high speed through a narrow space.

Someone is moving alongside her, dodging, weaving. Not the puppeteer. Another. Their movements are swift, strong, filled with a measured grace that dances around her striking, flailing limbs (if they can still be called such) with dexterity. She tries to fight back against the overpowering will, to stop any harm coming to that person. It is futile.

Another shift, her body stretched in another direction. And - oh! Air! Damp and rank in scent, something like a sewer, but never more welcome. Her senses had been cloaked, due to the current nature of her body, but now, she was aware of eyes, ears, nose, a budding mouth that opened in a soundless cry for help.

He heard her.

He was standing over her, feet braced on her alien form. A man in dark glasses and a suit, a strangely patterned sword at his side. The sensation of the strangely blunt blade cleaving her flesh as she hurtles at him is weighted, some kind of energy behind it.

He can cause damage to her in this form! He can ...

But her mouth doesn't work the way it's supposed to. She can't beg him, can't plead with him to end this abysmal existence that only serves as torture. The terror, anger, frustration and hopelessness have no channel by which to reach the outside world any longer.

No! Please! Help me!

Wrung from dregs of her despair, a single tear forms at the corner of her existing eye, rolling down the distended, distorted skin.

Is this it? Is this all she can summon?

But he sees it. His hand is reaching down, towards where she lies, helpless beneath his feet, helpless to the whim of another. His thumb is warm, so warm, as he strokes beneath her eye, dashing away the trace of the tear.

In the moments that follow, before her consciousness finally descends into blessed, blessed darkness, she memorizes the feel of that touch, the last thing on this earthly plane that she'll ever know.

For all her suffering, let it never be said that she hasn't known true kindness.

Gojo and Namamin. Side by side, they're day and night. Yuuji can see that, and often delights in it. He thinks about it now, as he brushes his teeth, one hand carding absently through the tangles in his hair.

Gojo operated on a certain wavelength Yuuji had been attuned to since the very beginning. Nanamin, less so.

When Yuuji really thinks about it, it reminds him somewhat of the recipes his grandfather taught him. Gramps's house was one run on self-sufficiency. There was never an excuse for slacking off.

Gojo was like the spicy miso ramen he'd learned to make, the one with the specially crafted chilli oil and the perfect ramen egg for topping. A wash of heat, scorching the tongue and throat, a burst of flavour that somehow lingered long after it had rushed past your teeth like a flashflood. It entertained, it sustained, it left you feeling warm and energized.

Nanamin was like bread.

Now, Yuuji wasn't crazy about bread. He was more of a rice-bowl kinda guy. But the baking of bread was something he'd never quite managed to get the hang of, to begin with. His grandfather eyeballed ingredients, kneaded with rapid, dexterous fists, added an extra pinch of salt here, or a splash of milk there, depending on the type and texture of bread he wanted. It was as if Gramps could envision an end product that Yuuji had no concept of at all.

Namamin had been just as difficult to gauge in the mixing bowl of Yuuji's experience. Practical, rule-following, collected and proper. Spontaneity could take a hike, as far as Nanamin was concerned. Not the kind of man to pretend to be dead and then hop out of a box when you least expect it.

Ha. Anyway.

Bread. That's the analogy he was going with, and the one he was finding increasingly appropriate.

Pulling on his uniform jacket, Yuuji felt the familiar tug and rumble of hunger ascend from his stomach. He tied the laces on his signature red sneakers and grabbed his backpack, heading for the Tech cafeteria for breakfast.

Thinking over it further, bread was ... a staple. It was not to everyone's taste. It was simple, filling, a great companion piece for more flavourful ingredients. And hellishly difficult to bake correctly. For Yuuji, at least.

Yeah. Bread. It was a good comparison.

Turning the corner, Yuuji nearly ran right into the current occupant of his thoughts.

"Ah ... Nanamin! You're here early today!"

"Good morning, Yuuji. Please be careful. I have a cup of hot coffee here."

Falling into step beside the stoic sorcerer (uninvited) Yuuji decided to share some of his thoughts, an uncharacteristically serious expression adorning his face.

"Nanamin, there's something I've been thinking about."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. If I had to compare you to a food, it'd be bread."

A silence meets this statement. Nanami takes a sip of his coffee. Undeterred, Yuuji continues.

"Like, I love a good katsudon, but when it's midnight and I've been training hard, and I wake up all tired and my body's all sore ... I just go make a sandwich, ya know? Even when Gramps was in hospital and I used to get back from school, and oh, yeah, I sometimes forgot to buy groceries ... there was still bread. Just a loaf, there on the counter. And it didn't matter if there were no other ingredients to cook with, or anything, because you can't go wrong with a fried egg on some fresh, crispy toast. Ahh, yeah. The best."

Nanami adjusted his glasses slightly.

"Itadori ... is this your way of informing me that you find me reliable?"

"Huh? Oh ... I mean, yeah. But that's not all."

"It isn't?"

"Nah. 'Cos I baked bread with my Gramps, see? And it was hard to get right. But I did, at some point. And it felt ... great. And I never got it wrong again. And Gramps is gone now, I know. But when I miss him, kinda, baking bread helps me remember what it was like having him around."

Having said his piece, Yuuji folded his arms behind his head, marching peaceably alongside Nanami, lightly humming the theme song to the latest show he'd been watching. Nanami was now looking down, into his coffee. He didn't take another sip. His voice, when he spoke, was quieter than usual.

"I like sandwiches. Trying different fillings is something of a hobby of mine."

Yuuji nods, a light grin forming on his face.

"I can tell."

"Having said that ... I'm partial to fried chicken and beer on a Tuesday afternoon. It ... reminds me of when I was younger."

"Whoa. For real?"

"Yes."

"But Nanamin ... isn't fried chicken and beer the kind of thing you share with others?"

"It is."

"Hmmm."

Yuuji appears to give this some serious thought, before slapping his fist into his palm as an epiphany strikes.

"But wait! Let's get it together next time! I won't drink the beer, don't worry. I can get a soda or something."

"What - "

"And we can order the MegaBox deal that also comes with a medium pizza and cheese croquettes!"

"Yuuji - "

"Oooh, I'm so excited! I wonder what their pizza base is like? But hey, Nanamin, I've gotta run ahead. Maki-senpai's training with me today and she'll kick my ass if I'm late. See ya on Tuesday!"

All thoughts of bread firmly shelved for the present, Yuuji trotted further up the corridor and through the sliding doors of the cafeteria, pausing to wave at Nanami as he left his line of vision.

Yuuji doesn't get to see the small smile that temporarily eases the harsh lines of the sorcerer's face. It is fleeting, gentle, an echo of a smile he'd worn for another, long ago.

Dividers by: @sister-lucifer

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a-whisper-in-the-forest · 5 months ago

Text

Maybe

Part 1 (coffees and tips)

Part 2 (somebody I care about)

Civilian turns into the next aisle of their local supermarket. They got milk, eggs, something to eat for tonight…snacks. They need snacks. Some candy would be nice. Oh, no, popcorn. Yes, popcorn to eat with a movie. Tonight is going to be a good night. Their shift went well and they got a ton of tips, their toast didn't burn this morning and they haven't lost a single thing. Today was a good day. Only, Villain hadn't passed by the shop today, or yesterday, or the day before that. Maybe the fight with Superhero scared them off a bit? The coffeeshop is supposed to be a safe place for villains and a superhero that just bursts in is kind of contradicting. They really hope they can see them tomorrow, work hasn't been the same.

They turn into the other aisle and see a surprising figure ahead. They are dressed in some sweatpants and a hoodie, hair a little messed up but in a cute way and holding a shopping basket. Civilian’s heart makes a little jump. “Hi, Villain. Didn't expect you here,” Civilian says excitedly. Was that too much? Villain looks up a little surprised but then pulls their lips into a smile. “Hi,” they answer while putting a frozen pizza in their basket. “I normaly don’t come here, but I didn't have anything to eat so… deepfreeze chemical shit it is.” Civilian can't help but chuckle. “Don't you have henchmen that can cook for you?” Villain grabs another pizza. “Technically yes, but after three days of planning and scheming we could all use a break.”

“Oh,” Civilian answers, “that's why you didn't show up.” Villain’s smile turned into a smirk. “What? Missed me?” they ask stepping forward. “Maybe,” Civilian answers, not backing away. Villain hums in agreement and corners Civilian against the freezer door. “I might have missed you too, honestly,” Civilian feels that funny feeling in their stomach flare up again. Was it them or was the room getting hotter? “Really?” they whisper. They are so close together right now, they could practically taste Villain’s lips. Villain leans in even closer and whispers in their ear. “Every minute. I couldn't even focus on my plans, that's why it took so long.” Civilian’s breath hitches and they feel a blush creep up their neck. Villain lets out a soft, but deep chuckle. “Oh, dear, so easily flushed. I wonder…” Before Civilian could do anything, they felt a soft peck on their cheek. They turned as red as the tomato in their cart. Villain was still smirking and let out a satisfied hum. “I should stop there though, before you turn into a puddle.” Civilian didn't want them to stop, they wanted them to keep going. “Please, no, keep going.”

Villain’s smirl grew into a full smile. “That sounded pretty, but that's not for here. How about you go home and I drop off these pizzas to my gremlins that are apparently my henchmen. I'll come to your place later and you can ask me those nice questions again.” Civilian nods but they preferred the Villain coming straight home with them. As if Villain could read their mind they answered: “As I said, my henchmen are like gremlins and it's nearing midnight. Believe me, it’s only chaos that ensues.” Civilian just hoped they won't have to wait too long. “Will you hurry?” Civilian asked. Villain's cocked their head to the side. “Maybe.”

Villain obviously paid Civilian’s groceries.

Hi! This was the obvious poll winner so here it is! It's my first time writing something like this so go easy on me. As always I hope you enjoyed!

My are open if you want to ask me anything! (A snippet, a question, share a thought,... Anything!)

#hero x villain #heroes and villains #snippet #villain x hero #my writing #writing #writeblr #villain x civilian

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justpeaxchy · 11 days ago

Note

Can I request a short fic for Hiccup x fem!reader where they're just good friends, sharing a love for books?

Thank you!

'Oh, Simple Thing.'

A/n: AHH thank you so much for the request! I was actually gonna try and write something with a platonic relationship kind of thing, so you came in at a perfect time lol!

Warnings (?): none!

Hiccup x !fem! Reader (platonic)

Books, books, and more books. And Hiccup also. The two things that can help relieve you from your daily responsibilities.

'C'mon, c'mon, where is it..!?'

Your hands desperately searched through the wooden shelves of your hut, groaning in annoyance every time you couldn't find the one thing you've been earnestly desiring to have for the last ten minutes. It was as though you checked all the cracks in your home to find the treasured object, your frustration increasing with each failed attempt. Out of all the days when you needed it the most, it wasn't there.

"It's gotta be in here somewhere..!" You muttered, throwing your arms out in exasperation. You had one with you almost all the time, so it peeved you that it was nowhere to be seen. 'Think, think, think...where did I have it last..?' Trying to figure out where it may have gone, your feet strode over to the notepad you had made, hastily opening it to check one more time if it was hidden somewhere inside the pages. Again, no luck.

'You've got to be kidding me..'

Stomping over to the desk close by, you practically threw the notepad across it with an irked furrow of your brows. Everything was going fine today, all until this specific item couldn't be located. "Where are you, you little--"

A knock on the door interrupted your complaints, forcing you to trudge over to it with a sigh. "Yeah, what is it?" You grumbled, opening the door with a bored expression. It lightened up a bit at the sight of your best friend, bringing your infuriated guard down. "Hiccup?" Your eyes glanced at the small stack of books he struggled to hold in his arms, not yet noticing something else in his hands. "..Uh, what're you doing..?"

"Hey!" He staggered, "I wanted to bring you these!" He lifted his face above the pile, a genial smile tracing his lips. "It's some extra books my dad said you could borrow for a bit..and I know you've been wanting to read some new ones, so I got these for you."

Briefly skimming over the heaps of the leather coverings that hid each page within them, you didn't completely notice Hiccup almost stumbling to stand straight. "What's it about..?"

He carefully balanced himself again, silently hoping you would lend a hand so he wouldn't be at risk of falling over. "Oh, y'know, the history of Berk, some tall-tale stories...all that good stuff.." He knew you were one to actually like reading those subjects, not fully understanding why you wanted to study on the past of Berk...but everyone had their different tastes, he supposed. His was mostly about dragons after all.

"Oh, cool.." You mumbled, finally seeing a small object in his overcrowded hands. "Wait...is that...?" Your eyes slowly began to widen, heart being filled with joy and relief at the sight of the one thing you've been pining after this whole time. It was excellent, it was splendid, it was practically radiating with light as your mouth gaped. It was...

"My pencil!"

Hiccup blinked in confusion for a moment, only to nod at your words once he grasped what you meant. "Oh, yeah. You forgot that you gave it to me when we went to map out the island yesterday with Astrid--"

He didn't get to finish as you abruptly leaned forward and quickly snatched the cherished pencil, leaving him to yelp as he tried to prevent himself from collapsing. "Hey! Watch it--"

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I've been searching for this for so long!" You brought the charcoaled piece of hewn wood up to your cheek, ‘hugging’ it as though it were a long-lost family member.

Laughing nervously, Hiccup pleadingly stared at you for help. "Yup..! Now, why don't you--"

"Okay, thanks! Bye!" You jokingly moved to shut the door on him, snickering as he hurriedly reeled inside before you could. You firmly put an arm out in front of him so he wouldn't totter down on the floor, stopping a few books from falling. "Geez, you're always tripping in one way or another.."

"And who's fault is that?" He retorted, a fake wearisome expression on his face.

Shrugging, you grabbed a couple of books from him, your whimsical smile not fading away while you did so. "Oh yeah, my bad."

The future Chief sighed, faintly shaking his head. "Why were you so desperate for it anyways?"

The two of you steadily walked towards the desk in the room, your tone of voice suddenly doused in excitement; the usual lighthearted attitude. "Because! I needed it so I could write on some new information I discovered about the Woolly Howl!" Carefully setting the books down once close enough, you continued: "Did you know that they can withstand an entire blizzard? I mean, how awesome is that?"

Hiccup lifted his chin, pretending to be in deep thought before he shrugged. "Yeah, I did actually." He recoiled as you pinched his hand, staring at you as if you'd grown another arm. "What was that for!?"

"For being too smart."

He briefly waved his arms as he stuttered for a response. "W..what? Is it a crime to already know something you didn't?"

Chuckling, you put your witty attitude away and patted his shoulder. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Thank you for bringing me these amazing books-" You gestured at them as you finished: "..And thank you for giving my pencil back!" Without another minute wasted, you swiftly grabbed your notepad and flipped to an available blank page. You were about to write the information you had just obtained about the Woolly Howl, but he interrupted you with a clear of his throat.

Glancing over at him, you questioningly raised your brows. "Yes? What is it?" The amusement that came when he merely tapped the sides of his legs only lasted for a couple of seconds before you paused what you were originally going to do. "C'mon, spit it out."

"Well, I just.." He pursed his lips for a moment before continuing. "So...you're not going to read what I gave you..?" Hiccup muttered, pointing to the books like you couldn't see them.

"...Right now?"

"Yes."

You slowly put your notepad down, staring at him thoroughly to figure out what he was trying to do. "And what's got you so desperate for me to do that?" You reflected his earlier words back to him, watching as he instantly grasped a specific book in his hands, the leather showing signs of old age.

"There's this particular one I, uh, wanted to..y'know, see if we could study.." He held it up to his face, making only his eyes more visible.

You internally groaned, already predicting what it might be. "...Let me guess, it's about--"

"Dragons.." You both said, although your voice was more dragged out than his.

Sighing, your head slightly tilted at him. You loved books, but the more you were stuck on just one certain topic, it got boring quite fast. "Look, you know I enjoy reading...but every time we've been meeting up this past week, it feels like the only thing we've been getting into was dragons--"

"But you were gonna write some new information on the Woolly Howl! Y'know, a dragon?" Hiccup brought the book down so you could fully see him again with a defeated sigh. "...If you really don't want to, it's fine...I guess.." He muttered, a downcast gaze landing on the floor.

Not getting the hint, however, you merely shrugged in agreement. "Okay then."

Your response was seemingly not what he was aiming for. It was evident in the way he briefly threw his arms up with an expression that was no longer so disheartening. "Wow, okay. So that's how it is.." He placed the book down, pulling out a chair to sit at the desk while you stood. "Alright, alright. Enough joking, we can work on your mission of writing any information you want on the Woolly Howl."

He beckoned for you to sit in the other chair, which you unhurriedly did as you tried to conclude if he was truly fine with doing what you were set out to do. Usually, you both read to get your minds off the responsibilities that could so quickly take up a lot of your time; the pressures of growing and actually becoming an adult would sometimes make the two of you scurry off to someplace else. Thankfully, Astrid was there to redirect you both and help you face the reality that life would always be filled with responsibilities which may not entirely be pleasant, but that wouldn't stop you from enjoying yourselves throughout it all.

You viewed Astrid as a sister, someone that you could also easily be around. Her firmness was very much needed and appreciated whenever you started to act a certain way towards that topic, and you wondered how worse your attitude could've gotten if she hadn't been there for you to give you the necessary wakeup call.

Hiccup was the one who would allay you from your anxieties, his personality being the other thing that you needed to balance out your ‘lessons’ from his betrothed. It was the perfect combination of savory and sweet.

Gently pushing your notepad to the side of the table, you leaned your cheek in the palm of your hand, expectantly staring at him for a moment. "Well, are we gonna read that book or what?"

He blinked, putting your words together in the hinges of his mind. "...What..?"

"You heard me. C'mon, let's go, I don't got all day!" You faked a yawn, stretching your arms as you suppressed a grin. You actually did have the rest of the day to yourself, so that statement wasn't fully correct. Not that he would know, of course.

Hiccup didn't fight the smile that was now visible on his face, copying your actions by leaning his cheek in his hand. "Why do I get the feeling that's not true?" He flinched and veered away from you as you tried to pinch him again, chuckling at your failed attempt. "Alright, alright!" He paused, grabbing your attention as he spoke in a more sincere tone of voice. "Thank you, though. Are you sure you want to read right now? I was only kidding...for the most part."

The dramatic roll of your eyes almost made him laugh while you carefully picked up the book he originally had. "Well, if you just keep sitting there I might not be so sure..."

Immediately, he nodded and took it from your hold, hastily opening it like he was receiving a gift of some sorts. "I'll remind you of the Woolly Howl once we're done, don't worry!"

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

After a while of rambling and debating on what certain dragons were able to do, you both decided that it was time to move on. With a content nod, Hiccup closed the book and casually tilted back slightly in his seat. "I can only imagine the look on Fishleg's face when he finds out about this.."

You rested your head on the table, finally relaxed. "Mhm..." After a moment, you abruptly remembered what your intentions were before he waltzed into your hut, making you straighten your back as you quickly collected together your notepad and beloved pencil. "Hey! Didn't you say you would remind me of what I was gonna write?"

You eagerly flipped to a blank page, waiting for him to say something. All that came was silence, causing you to raise your brows at him, puzzled. "...Well?"

He tapped his chin, appearing to be in thought before shrugging. "Y'know, I think I actually forgot what it was you said about the Woolly Howl..."

"Hiccup!"

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry-- Ouch!"

It was safe to say that you managed to pinch him, without missing this time.

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

#This was fun lol..I wanted to make this that type of friendship where they're like....always being sarcastic to each other in a funny way #And also always having something silly to “argue” about lol...but they're not serious #It's just a best friend thing.....😅#I think I have a thing with pencils too... I'm almost always using it in some way for these fics 💀#Httyd #how to train you dragon: the hidden world #how to train your dragon #hiccup how to train your dragon #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #hiccup #hiccup x reader #hiccup haddock #httyd hiccup

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lunalockley · 2 years ago

Text

The Limo Driver (part two)

Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT. Like, a lot. Can Jake on his knees count as a warning?

Summary: It's night, it's raining and reader just wants to sleep, until she doesn't anymore.

Words: 7700+

Notes: Sooooo, I'm sorry, it took me a little longer than planned but here it is, I really hope you like it. And thank you all so much for your comments, always brighten my day.

Specially dedicated to my dearest moon emoji anon who made me feel really good about this one <3

Masterlist

gif credit

So… you’ve been thinking about it. Well, you can’t stop. Of course you can’t. He kissed you once and you spent six months half in lov—Ok, no. Wait, what? No. Half hooked up on him you mean. Three-quarters stupid. Completely insane. But not half in that. No.

Uh, whatever. It’s only been a day, a couple of hours. It’s way too recent. So it’s normal for your mind to keep on spinning the matter. And the eyes, and the voice, and the fingers. It’s driving you crazy, to be honest. The feel of them on your throat, on your hips, on your mouth… inside of you. You barely slept last night, your mind keeps taking you back through every fucking second of it without even trying. And then you can almost hear his voice calling you preciosa in that way he does and everything starts to heat up. That good, nice heat that’s so easy to get lost on.

But there’s also the bad one. The focalized heat that sets upon your chest like a weight is pressing down on you, making breathing a little bit harder. That’s the one you felt when you walked out last night. And you’ve been feeling it every time you think about what you said, and what he didn’t. That’s the part you’re trying to avoid. Yet it comes to mind anyways. It’s pretty fucking unfair.

And it’s pretty fucking ridiculous too because how come that after all that has happened, all the time you two have shared, all the things he has done you still can’t… figure him out? It doesn’t make any sense. How does someone that’s so incredibly hermetic make you feel you can read him just by looking him in the eyes when you actually don’t know anything about him at all? Does he do it on purpose? Is it a calculated move or is he somehow unable to—

—And you’re doing it again. Thinking about it non-stop. You called in sick needing a night away from the restaurant, from Jake’s stupid chair and that stupid bathroom that has been giving you palpitations just by the thought of going in and this is how you spend it. You had planned to cook a nice dinner, watch a movie, water your barely-alive plants, do a beginner's yoga class on Youtube, and maybe even finish reading that book that has been dusting on your nightstand. But no, here you are. Already in pajamas, all you’ve done (besides eating yesterday’s leftovers) is sit on the couch contemplating how time passes with the rain and Viejita’s soft meowing in the background. Is procrastination the root of all your problems? Maybe it is.

Or maybe it’s just time to get up and do what you do best: sleep. Give your body the rest your mind refuses to get. You impulse yourself out of the couch to go and take Viejita with you. Cuddling with her makes it all better. No more stupid Jake thinking. You let your ear guide you, she’s right next to the window. She had never complained about the rain before and as she feels you getting closer she even starts scratching the glass.

“Hey, baby, It’s just a little rain,” you mutter, petting her and trying to calm her down until you rest your eyes on what she is staring at down the street.

What the f—He can’t just—There’s no fucking way.

You’re not sure. You just live on the third floor but it’s dark outside. The street light barely lights anything at all. And the rain makes it even harder to see. Yet the outline of the limousine is clearly visible, and so is the figure leaning against it. But it can’t be. You’ve always thought Jake is unusual in every little thing he does but this? He wouldn’t be crazy enough to be waiting under the rain without a fucking umbrella and without even ringing the bell to your apartment, just expecting somehow you knew he would be there, right? That would be insane. It must be a weird coincidence. Some other limo driver who's waiting for someone else here… in this neighborhood? Weird, yet not impossible.

But then he looks up straight at your window and your heart jumps inside your chest as you instinctively hurry back into the shadows, where he can’t see you.

Fuck, it is him.

What the fuck? He knows your apartment is on the third floor, you’ve told him. You’ve told him the number. You’ve told him everything, for fuck’s sake. It's not like you want him to come up to your house knocking on the door in the middle of the night but what is he doing? At this point, you’re sure he purposefully finds the way to do the least expected, most incomprehensible thing in every fucking little thing he does. It must be his life’s motto: “No matter what, always find a way to stress the shit out of the people in my life”.

He’s an idiot, there’s no doubt of it. The thing is: are you an idiot? Well, yeah. You just saw him outside your place and your heart is already a beat away from a fucking heart attack. But you should try not to be an idiot anymore. You shouldn't go down. Make it clear you said it’s over for good. He definitely saw you, he would get it, and then… and then he would leave. Forever. Yeah, that’s what you should do.

But… goodbyes are a good thing too, right?

Closure and all that stuff. Talk things out, even if it sounds unlikely with someone like Jake. You can give it a chance. A… friendly goodbye. Ok, yeah. Sounds good. And it is the right thing in this type of situation, grown-up shit. A goodbye, that’s all.

You take one last look at the street just in case you’ve lost your mind and you’ve imagined the whole thing, but he’s still right there. Arms crossed, leaning against the limo and probably soaking fuking wet.

“Your dad’s an idiot, Viejita,” you say to the little black beast before taking her in your arms to leave her on her favorite cushion on the sofa. She settles down, pleased and exhausted as if she's accomplished a hard job.

You grab your keys next to the mirror at the entrance.

Just a goodbye.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The bone-chilling air hits you as soon as you step out of the building but seeing him is what makes you stop dead in your tracks for a second. You couldn’t see it up from your floor but he’s wearing his usual type of clothes, not the casual ones that somehow felt so out of place on him yesterday. Now the familiarity of the white shirt, the jacket, and the hat gives you a naive sense of comfort you try to dismiss away. As if this one were more of your Jake than it was yesterday. Stupid, he’s not more of anything and it’s just clothes.

A white shirt, a jacket, and a hat that are drenched, by the way. Which reminds you—

“What the fuck are you doing in the rain? Are you insane?”

Instead of answering he just looks at you and opens the limo’s door. Silently asking you to get in.

Ok, well…. you didn't think this through. You only thought about coming down, not actually getting into his car. But, you guess… there’s no other option. You came here to say your friendly goodbye, after all. Can’t do it in the rain, just like that. And a veil of water drops is already setting in your clothes, you can feel some of the fabric clanging into your body. Another thing you didn’t think through is the worn-out sweatpants you came out with, the old shirt that has somehow become a pajama shirt, and your lack of a bra underneath.

Fuck it.

When you slide into the car you notice how spacious the limousine is yet it surprises you how it does not seem to be room for many people. There are only two rows of red leather seats facing each other. So much space for so few passengers. In order to be more private and luxurious, you guess. It makes you think about the people he drives for. Might he be just as serious and inaccessible as you’ve seen him be with basically everyone else? Or might he show his weird uncharismatic charisma as he has done with you? The latter doesn’t sound so good, for some reason.

You stop nosing around when you feel him sitting next to you a little bit closer than the spacious seat needs. You were right. He's drenched and most likely ruining the luxurious leather of the luxurious car, but he doesn't seem to care as he turns his whole body and attention towards you.

“Is it every day or once every six months with you? No in-betweens?” You blurt out, cornered by the closeness of his body.

Fuck, friendly goodbye. Friendly.

“Sorry. I take that back,” you mumble, thinking your next words before you pronounce them this time. “Why didn’t you ring the bell to my apartment?”

“It’s late. I saw the lights on but thought you might have fallen asleep. Didn’t want to disturb you. You work too much, preciosa,” he answers calmly, his voice softer than you ever heard before. Not in a submissive way but in a disarmingly appeasing tone as if he had come here disarmed, without any shields. Exactly the opposite of how you feel right now. You move back in the seat trying to get as far as you can get in the restricted space. Soft raspy melting voices shouldn’t cause claustrophobia.

“And if I had been sleeping what would you have done? Wait till I wake up tomorrow?” You throw it out half as a joke, but immediately you realize—

He doesn’t even have to answer to know that’s the truth. He had come here to see you and wouldn’t have left until he did.

“Do you always get what you want? Is that how things work for you?”

“If things worked out for me this wouldn’t be the first time I see you outside work,” he says replies, lifting his hat and running a hand through his hair. And to your disbelief, he puts it back with a sigh like he didn't even realize the damn thing is soaking fucking wet just like the rest of his clothes are. He should take it all off before he catches a cold. Ha, go on. Keep thinking of him without his clothes on. Good idea. “Speaking of which, you know what am I thinking?”

“Are you kidding me?” You snort, turning towards him, as shocked by your train of thought as by the audacity of his question. “I never know what you’re thinking,” you whisper, taken aback by the fact that he still doesn’t understand how little you understand him. At all. That’s the whole point here.

“That’s weird, I’ve always felt you can see right through me,” he mutters, frowning at you as if you had any fault in that absurd idea. Stupid Jake. His voice sounds sincere but you chose not to even give it a second thought, can’t allow yourself that right now. Not with the purpose you came here for.

So you cross your arms and frown back at him, refusing to answer anything at all. But he mirrors you, crossing his arms and resting his back against the seat.

God, this is so stupid. You’re so mad at him but can’t help smiling when the stare competition last a little too long. It’s infuriating. And so ridiculous. You came here to say goodbye, why are you smiling?

“What are you thinking?” You ask, defeated.

A crooked smile forms on his lips in victory, but he quickly brushes away with his thumb.

“I’m thinking you look pretty fucking good here like this,” he says taking a look at your body, his eyes somehow soft and dark on equal parts. You try to ignore the effect his tone produces under your skin.

“In pajamas on your limousine?”

“Yeah, it’s a sight,” he breathes lowly, uncrossing his arms and getting a little bit closer. You can’t take it.

“Stop—don't do that, please.”

He waits for you to continue.

“That thing you do,” you explain reluctantly. “You make it sound like you’re joking but it feels like you are telling the truth. It’s confusing. Tell me what you are really thinking for once.”

“I’m telling you in every way I know.”

The words are out of his mouth like a caress and the way he’s—No, no, no. Focus. He’s flirting his way out. Get to the point.

“So? Did you come here to say goodbye?”

“Why would I say goodbye?” He retorts like you had asked him the most bizarre question possible.

“Because we are not seeing each other again, I told you it’s over.”

“Oh, it’s over? So what are you doing here?”

“Would you have left if I didn’t come down? I’m saving you from pneumonia. You’re welcome.”

He shakes his head, a reproachful gleam in his eyes but then he exhales and lets it go. He looks out the window for a moment and then back at you. Outside, the rain pounds harder.

“I came to say that I’m… I’m sorry”

“Oh, that’s a first. What for?”

You cross your legs and he follows the movement. Then he shifts in his seat once more, trying to find comfort.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t—That I left without saying anything—I… I just disappeared. I’m sorry. I understand why you’re angry. If it had been you I would’ve—I’m sorry.”

He’s struggling so much one would think this is the first time he apologizes for something in his life. It cracks your walls a little bit, but still—

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I just had to go and then I couldn’t come back.”

“How so?”

“I… I’m not able to control my time as I used to, just when is necessary.”

Oh. You weren’t important enough to come and let you know he was going to disappear for six fucking months.

“Yeah I get that, you didn’t need to be here,” you grunt moving to get out of the car but he moves from his seat, catching your hand before you even get to touch the handle.

“Let me go, you asshole!”

You try to push him back but in half a second he’s resting his knees on the floor as his hands take yours on a soft grip at each side of your hips. He’s caging you between his body and the seat. And even when your body keeps attempting to get out of the car, the intense heat that radiates out of his body makes you wonder how his wet clothes aren’t fucking steaming.

“Wait, wait—hey, wait, stop,” he says soothingly, his voice not a bit altered by the force with which you are trying to push him. His left-hand find that soft spot on the side of your neck, drawing your attention to his dark eyes. You lose a little bit of your strength. “Listen to me. You’re angry, I know. Take it out on me. You’ll feel better.”

What?

Your heartbeat buzzes in your ears and you feel a little lightheaded. This is the first time he’s looking up to you instead of the other way around. Maybe that's what causes that slight desperate effect in his deep brown eyes, the look that the last speaker of an extinguished language would have. Condemned to never truly communicate with anyone else. And the way he looks kneeled in front of you, surrounded, as if he would let you do anything to him right now. Take it out on me, he said. Is he expecting you to hit him or something?

“That’s not how things work, Jake. I’m not gonna turn you into my… human stress relief ball. You just told me you don’t need this. And I wanna make that call too. So, that’s it. You’re an idiot but we’re good. Now move and let me go. It’s ok, it’s over just like I–”

“No, it’s not. Stop that,” he says all frown and serious, and then a little softer. “And that’s not what I meant. But let me apologize. I wanna make you feel good, baby. Then the rest. Let me have you happy and relaxed first.”

“What?—That’s n-not—We should talk”

“Oh, so you came here to talk not to say goodbye?”

“Are you serious?”

“Sorry,” he says in an innocent tone like he regrets it but he's actually smiling, the widest smile you've ever seen on him yet. A happy smile. The desperate glimmer turned into triumph. He knows you just gave in, he knows he’s won this one. God, you hate him. Stupid Jake.

“Don’t—” take off my slipper, you try to say. But he’s already taking the other one. You really didn’t think about your outfit at all before walking out of your apartment tonight. Whatever. Focus. “What did you mean then, explain it to me. You gotta give me something here because I don’t want to do this anymore, Jake. Not like this.”

He holds your eyes for a moment and then he leans forward, resting his forehead against your knee. One hand slowly making his way up over your calve, the other rolling up the fabric to expose the skin. It takes him a minute to speak again.

“I… I don’t have control over—I don’t really have a—I just do what needs to be done. That’s the purpose of me. That’s all I do. I prevent things from happening and if they happen I resolve them. I… survive, I guess. And this is how it’s been for as long as I can remember. It’s ok—it was, it was ok. It was until one night instead of going to a shitty bar like I always do I decide for some fucking reason to go into that damn 24/7 breakfast and you happened. I didn’t like it, at first, because I knew right there that it wasn’t going to be enough. I already wanted more. I tried to stop it but I kept going and going. You were always there. Lighting things up. Of course, I kept wanting more. It’s never enough”.

While he was speaking his fingertips were gently caressing your calf, his cheek word by word tracing the side of your leg, seeking the reassurance feeling of skin against skin but as soon as the last sentence is pronounced his mouth starts giving open mouth kisses to every inch of uncovered skin it finds on its way and you’re scared your heart may stop working it all. It’s the feel of his tongue in that sensitive spot in the back of your knee, his left hand slowly exploring the length of your thigh but mostly his words and that impenetrable wall finally beginning to break down.

You weren’t expecting this. You thought he was going to come up with a half-true half-joke excuse that you were going to resist not believing in. And then get the courage to walk away just like you had planned. But this is different. You know this is different. You know he meant it. You know for the way he was so evidently struggling to find the right words, the hoarseness on every one of them as if his body were still trying to keep them locked deep inside. This is him. This is what you’ve been asking for. But still—

“The thing is you’re changing things for me, preciosa. I know I’m not made for this. I’m fucked up, I am. I’m not good. And on top of that, there’s not much I can offer you. I’ve nothing. And I can’t even take care of a damn cat without having it all fall over. I’m not even close to being good enough for you. You deserve better, you do—but I’m still here… if you want me. And even if you don’t, I would still be here, waiting.”

It’s raining properly now, hammering on the roof of the limousine. The furious rhythm of hundreds of drops almost synchronized with the rapid beat of your heart. His thumb hooked over the waistband of your pants, slowly pulling until your hip is exposed. Your breath caught in your throat.

“You deserve better but I’m selfish now. If anything is your fault, you turned me into this. I want you for my own,” he mutters, leaning in to kiss the skin of your lower stomach. You can’t help but gasp at the contact, he’s barely touched you and you already can feel the wetness dripping out of you. “Will you let me have you?”

He’s looking you straight into your eyes now, he hadn’t done it since he started speaking, and you can see how much he just gave you. You’ve learned to know him, somehow. Not in the way one learns to read deciphering signs on a page but in the way our eyes become accustomed to darkness after some time. Groping and stumbling you’ve learned some parts of him, his outline. That’s how you know he’s asking for way more than he’s letting on. You have the feeling that saying yes to him involves a lot more than saying yes to somebody else. The feeling that whatever it is he’s asking from you might consume you and leave you heartbroken afterward. But that’s not the hold-up.

The thing is, you want more, you want to see him in full light. You want him for your own too. But you need to understand him. Fully. You won't give yourself up without having him first.

“You want me to beg? I’ll beg if you want me to, but then I’ll be the one taking it out on you later,” he threats when you don’t answer for a while, all teasing voice and mischief glimmer, he’s back to the playful Jake you know so well. A little too long of silence and his defenses go up again.

You don’t think he’ll keep spilling truths voluntarily but now that you’ve heard some of them you want more. You’ve become addicted. You need more. But how?

And how are you supposed to think while he keeps playing with the waistband of your pants? Fuck, unless—He just acted on your terms, revealing himself just like you’ve asked him to. Now is your turn. You probably will get immediately caught up on it, but you can try.

You need to play it his way then.

He sees the change on your face and a spellbound gleam forms in his eyes.

“Show me how it would feel,” you whisper and you don’t need to say it twice.

As soon as the words are out of your mouth the sweatpants are out of your legs. Once he has you only in your t-shirt and your panties he leans back a little bit observing you from head to toe, lingering his eyes on yours, on the contour of your hardened nipples and the wet patch of your panties, as if he wanted to burn the image in his memory, the pervert. Well, you can’t judge, you are the same. Admiring how the white wet shirt clings to his torso, wrapping him like hard candy. You may as well lick him—fuck, focus. Focus.

When he starts to slowly take off your panties you manage to find your voice again.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you undress me on the street.”

“You’re letting me undress you in my car, it’s hot. And its got tinted glasses, and it’s dark outside and you’re with me, bonita,” he answers absently, focused on the delicate movement of the silky material as it slides down your legs. You can't mock him at the implication that you're safe with him though, you know it's true. You’ve felt it from the first day.

Once your panties reach your ankles he carefully removes them to put them in the pocket of his pants. Again, pervert. You ignore the need to clench your thighs together at the gesture and decide to tease him about it. He deserves it. And it’s what has worked the best so far. Pushing his buttons it’s what had you moaning in the fucking bathroom of your workplace anyways.

“To remember me?” You ask as innocently as you can.

But he’s done with it. He pins you with his gaze, raising a thick eyebrow at you.

“Why would I need reminding, exactly?”

“Because this is the last time.”

“What did I just say? Stop that. Don’t make me say it again. You know it’s not enough, preciosa. You know it.” His lips back to your legs, his voice still annoyed but so soft you don’t think you hear right: “Will never be.”

For the sake of your own heart, you rather believe you misheard.

He opens your legs a little bit further and then—

“Fuck, baby.” He sounds so wrecked, you feel weak. You were supposed to do something, what was it? “Voy a despertar soñándote por el resto de mi puta vida.”

“That’s not fair, you know I don’t understand. And tell me… tell me more about yourself first, please.”

“There’s not much to tell. And I’d like to do something else with my tongue right now.”

“What’s your favorite movie?”

“I mean, if I could record this right n—”

“Jake.”

“Whichever you’d like to watch with me, bonita.”

“You drive for a living?”

“That’s how I earn some money, yeah. Stop torturing me.”

“But you’re not just a driver, are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“And is that…dangerous?”

“Not to you. I promise”

“Are you in danger?”

“I’m in danger of dying as a thirsty man here.”

“What’s your last name?”

“Lockley. Come on, baby, don't make me go crazier than I already am.”

“Lockley… Jake Lockley.” That catches his attention back to your mouth for a second. “What’s your favorite hobby?”

“This,” he says sliding you effortlessly to the edge of the seat. You feel his breath near your core and you know you’re losing it. Shit, why were you doing this? Why are you delaying it when you want it so badly? Oh, right, you—

“Jake, wait,” you breathe. “I need more. I need to understand.”

“Then pay attention, preciosa.”

His mouth finds your inner thigh and he’s so close. So close. You won’t hold back anymore. You can’t. Your hand finds his shoulder just to hold onto something but fuck. He’s still in his wet clothes. He can’t stay like this. You gather the little willpower you have left to push him back. You expect some sort of resistance but he moves back with no effort on your part. Take it out on me, is this what he meant?

The way he raises his gaze is enough to set your blood on fire. He looks at you as if he’s about to say fuck it all and push you back to have his way with you mixed with genuine curiosity about what are you going to do next. Submission hanging by a thread.

“Take off your jacket.”

He holds your gaze for a moment and then he does it. Fuck, the power trip you're feeling right now. It feels pretty fucking good having him listening to you like that. More.

“Now your shirt.”

He sighs and begins to unbutton it, somehow amused by how much you're pushing it. Did he just unblock a new kink for you?

Once the shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor of the limo you lean forward to take off his hat. Is soaking wet just like his hair is underneath. And of course, you can’t resist. You take a moment to run a hand through his curls all the way down to his nape until your hand is resting on his shoulder again. He looks so fucking hot like this. You bite the urge to confess it, instead, you lean back and open your legs a little further, an invitation.

“You can go on, now.”

The little smile he’s trying to bite back makes your stomach flutter. You decide to tease him a little bit more.

“I mean, if you don’t want to…” you concede, beginning to close your legs but you barely get to move an inch before he dives right in and—

Fucking heaven.

You loudly gasp at the feeling of the wet heat of his mouth dragging over the folds of your pussy, his groan sending shivers from your core through your whole body. Fuck, it’s too good. It’s too good. When his tongue swirls around your clit your brain short-circuits having at the same the time the urge to push him away and push him impossibly closer. As your hand finds his curls you realize your body has chosen the latter. The movement pleases him, you can feel his smile against you.

“So fucking good,” he mutters, barely pulling back as you feel the movement of his lips with each word. Your hips move forward anyway, chasing the delicious contact.

Fuck, you’re already on the edge. His mouth is giving you everything without holding anything back. Fixed on wreck you from the beginning, desire running through your abdomen.

“Oh, fuck. Jake, I–I’m gonna—”

“Eyes on me, preciosa.” Is all he says but your mind is gone, every cell in your body focused on the sweet hot pleasure that’s rushing to you core. Your head falls back against the seat as the shocks of ecstasy flow through you, your whines chanting his name, your hand holding thigh to his hair, your cunt clenching hard around nothing—his mouth not leaving you for a second, drowning in you.

When your legs twtich a little too much one hand holds your hips down hard into the seat to ensure you keep still but he’s not stopping, he’s—

He’s—

Two long, thick fingers slid in and out of you as Jake’s mouth goes up, focusing on your swollen clit, licking and sucking and his eyes—

Fuck, you can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

His gaze is so deep and strong, melting your fucking bones. You’ve never been seen like that, never.

“Keep your eyes on me or I’ll keep going until you let me see.”

You can’t help but clench at his words, a whine escaping your lips. He feels it.

“Mmm, would you like that?”

It’s too much, too intense. The free fall never stops inside of you. And you can’t even move away from it. You just have to take it the way he wants to.

His tongue swirls, his fingers curl and you completely lose yourself in the pleasure ripping you from the inside. Your sense of gravity changes to where his wet hot mouth keeps taking everything you have to give. His fierce brown eyes the only thing keeping you grounded.

“That’s it. Look at you, so fucking pretty baby,” Jake says in that dark rich voice you love so much, and though he keeps praising you you’re too gone to even hear anymore. All you can do is lay back against the seat of his limo until your heart stops booming in your ears and air reintegrates into your lungs again.

When feeling comes back to your numb body you find one of his hands massaging the back of your neck, the other moving from your collarbone towards that spot that keeps beating strong under his touch. He keeps his warm palm right there in your heart and fuck, he’s still kneeling in front of you, looking at you with Am I forgiven eyes and you know this is not healthy, this is not how things should be, yet all you want to do is to close your own eyes because you know they’re answering him yes, yes you are. Instead, you lower your head to brush your lips into his, an invitation that makes his body go so pliant on you when you grab him and take him up with you, maneuvering him until you’re on his lap and you can finally kiss him like you’ve wanted since the moment you met him.

That first kiss six months ago was tentative and stiff, it felt like he was trying to stop himself but his body wouldn’t respond to his rational wishes, like his mouth was moving against all his fucking will. Yesterday’s kisses were dark and possessive, every movement of his tongue deliberately planned to have you whining at his mercy.

This one is completely different. This time it’s you who’s leading the way. This time it’s you who’s showing him that the despair that’s so evident in the glimmer of his eyes is the same that’s hidden deep down in your chest. And you know, you know, that the moan that sips out of him when you cradle each side of his face and your tongue clashes into his is because he understands what your body is saying to him. He knows.

And it may be minutes or hours, all you’re conscious of is the constant pattering of the rain against the roof of the car, your own taste in his mouth, the way he pushes you closer every time you bite his lower lip, his fingers under your t-shirt caressing the small of your back, tracing your ribs and digging in your hips, the warmth of his skin, the hard muscle underneath, his damp curls when you run your nails through his head, those dark sounds that come out of his throat when you rock against the bulge inside his pants, the slow, steady bone-melting rhythm that completely intoxicates you until you need more, more, more.

And you know he does too.

He takes off your shirt in one swift motion. You feel something icy at the center of your collarbone but you don’t even have time to process it because suddenly your breast is in his hot wet mouth and his teeth are gently nipping the flesh there and then his tongue swirls against your nipple and—

You need—you’re overwhelmed by the need to have him as delirious as he has you right now.

You push him back into the seat and he’s immediately calling you preciosa and complaining but you are already kissing him, shutting him up, and undoing the zipper of his pants. He growls in your mouth when you palm the outline of his cock over his underwear, your walls clench hard in anticipation. And then he shivers when you slowly run your nails throughout his length over the fabric and you know you’re fucked. You will crave this feeling for the rest of your life. The feeling of having Jake Lockley trembling with pleasure underneath you. An instant addiction.

You take his hard cock out and you and you don't even give him time to pull his pants out or take them off before you’re rubbing your slit against his length. Utterly and unashamedly desperate.

“Fuck, baby,” he mutters in your mouth, his tight and raspy voice making you throb in need, his muscles tense under your hands. “Feels soo good, doesn’t it? This is how it will feel like, everything, every fucking time.”

He pushes back a little to look at you. You know he’s talking about what you answered when he asked to have you. Show me how it would feel. You know this is his way to push for an answer. A confirmation that you’re his. But instead of trying to find those words hidden somewhere in your chest you get lost in his deep brown eyes and you realize that all those moments when he looked at you like he wanted to crawl under your skin your eyes must have looked at him just the same way.

“Will you let me have you?” The question leaves your lips this time, yet no words come out of his mouth but a breathless choked sound as if you’ve punched him in the gut. Instead, he just grabs the side of your neck and glares at you with something profound that could be anger or devotion, or maybe both. And then he’s kissing you, his tongue fighting yours, how dare you is saying. A hand on your hip lifts you up enough so that he can line himself up at your entrance and just when you begin to feel that pressure—

“If we are doing this you’re not allowed to leave again without warning, Ok? It’s cruel,” you blurt out without thinking, your helpless heart rising to the surface, exposing itself despite your efforts.

“Ok,” he answers, his voice torn and low, as solemnly as he can with your cunt torturously dripping the length of his cock. You look down, ready to feel him inside but he grabs your chin and makes you look at him again. “And you’re not allowed to say you hate me. Ever again. I mean it. Ok?”

“Or?”

“Or I’ll fuck your pretty little brains out until I have you begging me to stop but I won’t until I’m sure you’ve completely forgotten the damn fucking word. Ok?” He pulls at your hair for emphasis and you have to fight down the moan that threatens to leave your throat with the gesture.

“Ok,” you answer out of breath, obediently.

“Good,” he praises, soothing your scalp with his fingertips. Then, cheeky again. “What am I allowed to?”

“You’re allowed to ring the bell to my apartment, for once.” You laugh but then—

He holds your hips as he slowly begins to slide his cock in, gently and steadily but fuck.

Holy fuck.

You’re so wet there’s barely any resistance bet he’s long and thick and the stretch feels like he’s gonna break you in half. The strong grip of your hands on his shoulders makes him stop before he can go any further.

“You’ll get used to me,” he gasps in your temple. “Fuck, such a tight fucking pussy, baby. But I’ll make you get used to me. All of you.”

“Shut up and just keep going, for fuck’s sake”

“Relax on me, preciosa. I don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispers in your ear, his fingers caressing every inch of skin he can find, his tongue licking the pulse in your neck. “Relax…Mmm, that’s it. Yeah, like that.”

It takes a little. The expert grip on your hips makes you sink into him so, so slowly every inch of him steals a whine out of you but you know it’s driving him fucking crazy too. He’s breathing hard, the muscles in his abdomen jump at the slightest shift of your hips, and a faint film of sweat appears on his neck. It makes you wanna lick him. But you get distracted by how good and how deep it feels and how his hands move from your hips to a playful hold on your throat, until they fall flat on the seat.

“You can go on, now,” he returns your words, a cheeky little grim forming in the corner of his lips as he leans back on the seat. Leaving you to it. Your heart swells at the wrecked and joyful gleam of his eyes.

You try to say something smart and snarky at him but his cock is buried deep inside of you and you can’t think of anything else, to be honest. You lift yourself up and down, tentatively, the burning so good it has so gasping.

“Feels good, baby? Feels so right, doesn’t it? You know why it feels so right, don’t you? You understand it.”

You pick up your pace, oblivious of his words, trying to suppress the hidden emotion behind every roll of your hips. You don’t want to hear those words, you don’t need to. Not now. But he keeps going—

“You have no idea all the times a woke up this,” he breathes, his hands finding your hips again. Unable to stay away for too long. “Preciosa lurking me with her smart mouth and her —fuck— her pretty smile. Letting me punish her for being too good for me.”

He makes you clench hard around him. You can’t help it. It’s his words, the idea.

“Mmm, you’d like that. I’d like that too. I could spank you for every time you wouldn’t leave my fucking head, for distracting me,” he growls grabbing a handful of your ass and squeezing it. “How red would your ass be then, huh?”

His hand goes up to hold your hip again. And now he’s thrusting into you. Reaching places you couldn’t reach yourself, so fucking deep.

“I could edge you to tears for doing this to me.” The pad of his thumb finds your clit and you whine his name in response. The shots of ecstasy are growing fast and intense. You’re gasping, he’s breathing hard. And to your surprise, he keeps talking. “I could have you screaming for—for—”

Before he was forcing himself to get the truth out, struggling to answer your questions with honesty. But now it’s flowing out of him, a little bit of truth with every thrust of his hips. Every word sticking deep into your heart.

“Fuck, I missed you… my whole body felt it even—even when I wasn't myself.”

God, you can’t even process each sensation. And his scent is concentrated in that soft spot on the side of his neck, it makes you dizzy. You’re so out of yourself, so overflowed with sensations and desire, that you only notice you’re running your tongue down the skin of his throat when growls and holds you impossibly closer, just like you wanted.

Is too much. Everything. This is—you’ve never felt anything like this before. Like the whole ground is disappearing under you. All you can do is hold onto Jake, one hand on his shoulder the other on his nape, your face buried in his neck. But he’s asking you something, his voice softer than before.

“Do you understand?”

But you’re too lost on it. You can’t—Your movements start to grow impatient, fast, and erratic. The hot melting pleasure is close once more. But not close enough.

“Preciosa, answer me.”

You keep clinging to him, refusing to do anything but chase the feeling. You’re almost there, almost there, you’re—

You’re suddenly on your back, his body hovering over yours, both of your hands taken behind you, arching you and maintaining you exposed. Making it impossible to hide away. His hand is on the side of your neck, his eyes piercing through you. He’s expecting the same sincerity he has given you tonight. He’s done what you’ve been asking him this whole time—broken down the wall between you two. Why are you so scared to take what was behind it? Because it’ll consume you. It already is. And you know if he disappears again—If he disappears after all this everything it would be so, so much worse. It’s too much risk. It’s all too much. You can’t—

But fuck, he looks so lost in you.

“Tell me, do you understand now?”

At this point, you couldn't lie even if you tried. Your heart is on the surface.

“Yes, yeah. I-I do. Me too, Jake.”

“Fuck, mía.” He groans between desperate kisses on your mouth, then becomes a prayer that escapes from his lips with every needier, sloppier thrust of his hips. “Mía, mía, mía…”

Your whole body tenses under him then the pleasure rips you from the inside, making you scream this time. The hard squeeze of your cunt enough to push him to the edge. He grinds his cock as deep as he can against something that makes you sob and then he’s cumming, hard. You feel his body shuddering above and you want to see every second of it but everything goes blurry.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Somehow, you find yourself on his lap again. Your whole body a dead weight against him. Your head tugged in the curve of his neck. His hands moving up and down along your back.

Your body is tired yet the adrenaline is still running through your veins. You can feel it buzzing somewhere inside, that’s why you are surprised when your voice comes out as a whisper.

“If you disappear again I swear that I—”

“I won’t. I can’t.”

You push back to look into his eyes in search of any sign that may tell otherwise, but you don’t find any.

“I won’t be long gone. I’ll be back soon,” he reassures, running his fingertips from your neck to your collarbone, his lips gently tracing your jawline. “Apenas pude aguantarme esta vez. No soy tan fuerte.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’ll be back. Ok?”

Suddenly he’s looking into your eyes for some sort of final confirmation that you feel the same way he feels, even if he didn’t confess it with words. And you do. You do, you do, you do, your answer to him. Instead, your mouth says—

“Ok.”

He takes your face in both his hands. His lips brushing yours.

“Mi preciosa.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

A few hours before sunrise, long after the rain has stopped, you enter your apartment. Happy and exhausted, you know you’ll fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. You also know you’ll dream of brown deep eyes and a raspy voice calling you preciosa over and over again.

As you put your keys next to the mirror at the entrance your eyes catch a sparkle on your neck. It’s a silver necklace with a little moon on it. It’s beautiful.

Your head turns to the window, to the moonlight and the limousine below it that you know won't leave until it sees all your lights off.

You had never felt anything like this before, you had never been under the weight of an emotion so strong that there was no way to communicate it with words, you had never been able to understand someone just by looking into their eyes. But then Jake isn’t like anyone you have met before either. And there's nothing you'd do to change that.

You know he will be back.

———————————————

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jazziejax · 7 months ago

Text

Queen Treatment for

The King

Pairings- Art Donaldson x black!OC, Tashi Duncan x black!OC, Patrick Zweig x black!OC

Summary- moments between Dion King and her best friends that adore her

Warnings- slight smut, implied sexual content, sexual tension...

Jazzie Notes!- It’s me writing at 1am again knowing I have somewhere to be tomorrow:)….. sorry for any typos or mistakes, I don't enjoy reading back my own work and I type like a mad man with dyslexia. Also, sorry if this is bad, I’ve beer written smut or sexual content of any kind. Might but ever do it again honestly.

Word Count- 2,724

Part I , Part III

Dion heard the soft click of her door closing from her bed. She sat on her bed in her dorm, reading away at some old and torn biology book that was needed for a class. She was barely paying attention to the words on the thin paper, chipped corners obscuring some words as she sipped away at the honey tea Art brought her before he left.

She never raised her eyes away from the page before her as a weight was placed near her feet at the end of her bed. She knew who it was by the sound of his feet. There was silence within the room as she continued to sip from her mug and fake-read the large book in her lap, feeling his stare. It wasn’t long before she made it to the bottom of her mug, the sound echoing as she slurped up the thick honey that settled at the bottom. When finished, she sat the empty cup on the nightstand beside her and then finally looked up at the boy in front of her who had his eyes on her the entire time.

“Are you just going to fucking sit there or are you gonna say something?” She asked, not sugarcoating anything. Patrick’s face looked the same way it did yesterday, sadness etched in every crevice that only deepened with her words.

“I just wanted to explain myself.” He said somberly. Dion sighed, slamming the book on her lap closed. She then filed her arms and sat up more against the headboard, crossing her legs. “Go on then.” She said disinterestedly.

And she honestly was. Art had filled her in about the situation that caused the oddness between them all last night after her fashion show ended in him giving her the best head. He was so fucked out afterward that he just started spilling everything without Dion even having to ask. Not that she had to, Art thought she needed to know.

So, she sat there waiting. Either to hear the same information or something new.

“The whole reason Tashi and I have been acting so strange is because we argued.” He said, eyes never moving from her trying to gauge a reaction. “About you.”

“I mean, I figured that much Pat.” Dion rolled her eyes.

“But it wasn’t what you would think it would be about.” He started, angling his body in the girl's bed to face her. He left his shoes in Tashi’s room so she was just in a shirt, shorts, and gray socks. “She was angry because she felt like we were getting too close.” Dion’s brows furrowed deeply, eyes briefly igniting with rage. Seeing this, Patrick was quick to interject. “But not like that. Not like we were falling for one another or that you had a thing for me.” Then Dion went from angry to confused. “She was angry at me because she felt like I was taking you from her.” He stated, seeing the question circulating in her eyes. At that, Dion kind of just stared at him, lost in thought over the whole situation.

Dion’s never had a serious boyfriend since she and Tashi have been friends. She barely even talks to guys anymore, let alone think about that much. She had all she could ask for within Tashi. So much so, that she was a little heartbroken when the girl said she wasn’t looking for anything too serious with her. But she kept on a brave face as stuck it out. And it’s not like Tashi was doing anything with anyone else, so that kept her at ease about the whole situation.

So when they met Art and Patrick, they never would have thought things would end up the way they did. Tashi and Patrick were together but she allowed him and Dion to do things if they wanted, which was rare if she wasn’t involved. She honestly only agreed because she knew she wouldn’t be dropping Dion any time soon. The girl was like a drug to her.

Art and Dion were pretty official, at least to the people around campus, so they did things all the time. They were the same. They had the same favorite color, the same habits, same taste in music and books. They even served sort of similar. Being around him brought a light into her heart that she didn’t know she needed. And Art depended on her presence more than he’d like to admit. Sometimes just spends time in her dorm to live like a married couple. Being around Dion made him almost forget about his jealousy of Tashi and Patrick.

Almost.

But Dion and Patrick, their relationship was more than just physical. He was like a male Tashi. He was confident and sure of himself. She was lewd and loud, Dion found it endearing. He made her laugh. He taught her things no other guy has, he’s shown her this whole other world of being a person and living. He had so much to offer and this was only the beginning.

Maybe that was it.

Tashi felt as if Dion was slipping away from her. If only she knew how unlikely something like that would be.

“This whole situation is so fucking stupid.” Dion huffed, putting her head in her hands. “I mean?” She exasperated, looking back up at him. Patrick just softly nodded his head, still downtrodden from the whole blow-up of events. “Yeah. And the argument only got worse when I said she was being that way because she can’t admit her feelings for you.” He sighed.

“Oh,” Dion said, crossing her arms. “Well, it’s over now. I’ll talk to Tash and things will go back to normal.” She said, with a shrug. She was trying to quickly change the subject to something else so she wouldn’t have to focus on the fact that Tashi was avoiding her feelings in some way. Patrick could tell what she was doing, he just stared at her, admiring her as she thought.

“Do you have feelings for me?” She asked, looking up at the boy. Their eyes instantly met since he was already observing her as she played with the loose thread on her bed sheet. He jerked his head back at her question, caught off guard by her sudden movements and question.

“Jeez, Dion.” The boy groaned, throwing his head back. While she thought he was doing it out of annoyance, Patrick was honestly trying to hold back the boner he was getting just watching her. The sun shone through the blue curtains giving the girl this ethereal glow. The way her lounge-wear shirt fell off her shoulders because of its size. And those shorts she always wore that showed the bottom of her ass cheek just right. She had hundreds of those shirts and they all loved when she wore them.

“What?” Dion asked, shrugging her shoulders. “You’re the one that told me I need to be more forward.”

“That’s not what I mean, King.”

“Just answer the question.” Dion pouted, watching as he tilted his head back down to look at her. Dion always loved his eyes, probably not as much as Art’s since he had heterochromia, but Patrick’s were a close second. The honey brown starts at the rim of his pupil and expands into this beautiful blue. His eyes were always dilated, at least when she looked into them, and she loved seeing that look.

“Of course, Dion.” That was all he said. His eye herb wavering from hers. Dion smiled at his words before standing on her knees and growing closer to the male. She planted herself right next to him, still on her knees with her hands holding her weight as she sat back in her legs.

“That’s good to know.” She smiled at him. Patrick smirked, seeing the mischief swimming in her eyes. His eyes traced her features, her oiled skin, her curly roots peeking from under the towel on her head, the way one of her eyebrows was a little fuller than the other. Her lips looked sticky from the honey she sucked earlier. Everything about her was a sight to see. “Now do you think you deserve your gift?” She asked, using the sickly sweet voice she always did to get her way. The same way she sounded when they first met. Patrick nodded his head, not even giving the question a second thought as she stared the girl in the eyes.

Dion pursed her lips in a tiny pout. “I should make you work for it after being so absent these past few days.” She said, giving the boy a once over. She could see the huge bulge he had in his shorts that he was trying to hide by stuffing his hands into his shirt. Her eyes trailed back up to see his muscles poking through the shirt, the girl getting wet from his figure. “Do you think you should work for it or do you want the gift?” She asked, finally looking him back in the eye. Patrick licked his lips, eyes darting everywhere on his face before answering. “I think I should work for it.” He whispered.

Dion smirked, rising to her knees again. She never took her eyes off of him and Patrick followed hers. She looked down at him as she took the towel off her hair. Some of the parts were a little wet but that didn’t bother either of them, especially at this moment.

Dion then straddled Patrick’s lap, her knees on either side of his. He immediately untucked his hands from his shirt and latched onto her waist. He leaned in, thinking her lips were gonna meet his but she backed away at the last moment. His lips met her jawline with a wet kiss. Dion looked back and leaned in again but pulled the same move, dodging his lips to his net her cheek this time. Patrick whined at the lack of contact after a few more tries while Dion smirked. She did it one last time.

Only this time, Patrick didn’t stop. He trailed wet kisses anywhere he could as his hands squeezed at her torso. Dion sighed out a few airy moans as his kiss ended up behind her ear. Hearing just those sounds made Patrick target that spot, sucking and licking at the spot until he could feel the skin become tender under his tongue.

Unknowingly, his hands traveled down her back and under her big shirt to grab her bottom. His large hands cupping her ass instantly evoked a reaction out of the girl, letting out a loud moan. At that, Patrick groaned into her neck. He backed away from her neck to see her face morph into one of pleasure as he groped her ass. At the loss of contact, Dion looked down at him. “I didn’t say stop, did I?” She asked.

Patrick immediately got back to what he was doing, licking and kissing anywhere he could on her neck, even going down to her chest at one point. Dion was a moaning mess as he continued to okay with her ass cheeks, just the feeling of him so close to her heat made her feral. And one thing about Dion, she was a talker. She also loved herself a talker.

“You’re just so good to me baby.” She sighed into Patrick’s ear as he went to town at the top of her breast, oh so close to popping them out. “You treat me so well.” She moaned. Patrick's hips jolted at her words, loving when she just talked to him. He could cum just listening to her talk. He has once when he heard her talking Art through a climax. At that, Dion moans again, his bulge hitting her covered heat.

She then pulled away and stood up on her knees. Patrick, too engrossed in the feeling of her soft breasts on his tongue, kept licking away as he washed closer and closer to popping them out of her bra. Seeing this, Dion grabbed the back of the brunette’s head and pulled him back. His face was pink, eyes blown and lips plump. Their eyes met.

“You’ll take care of me, right?” She asked, using that sweet voice on him.

Patrick nodded, his hands still on her ass and his hips lightly rutting up against the air. Dion's eyes turned stern and she grabbed the boy by the jaw, making his lips pucker. “Speak.” She demanded.

“Yes.” At that, Dion leaned forward and gave him a wet and sort of sloppy kiss on his pursed lips.

“And you won’t hide things from me anymore?” She asked, tightening her grip on his face just a tad.

“No, never.” The boy panted with a quick shake of his head. Dion gave him another kiss, this one a little longer than the last. She broke away, a thin trail of spit connecting them. “And you know that I’ll always care for you?” She asked. Patrick nodded before he could form a verbal answer. Her words were working him up and he was close to cumming in his shorts. He’s never been this way with any girl but Dion just bought something out of him. She had a way of getting people to do what she wanted.

“Mmh hmm.” Patrick finally said, trying his best to hold back his climax as his hands continued to grip her ass and she continued to moan and speak to him. Dion brought her lips back down to his, barely moving as the boy stretched his neck to meet her in a head kiss. She was practically shoving her tongue down his throat as they kissed, and Patrick loved it. He loved that his rather docile and sweet girl was corrupting him in ways he didn’t know he liked. He didn’t know he needed it. Dion broke away, feeling the boy’s rock-hard bulge on her pussy when he lifted her ass cheeks and slapped them. She let out a loud moan into her mouth, which made him snack it again. Knowing they were close, she broke the kiss. Much to Patrick’s dismay the boy groaned.

“I know you’re close, baby. I know.” The girl cooed in between kisses on his cheek. But I have to give you your gift before we continue. She then got off his lap and turned to the nightstand next to her bed. She pulled open the first drawer and brought out a dark blue velvet box. She sat back down next to him, both of them igniting the huge bulge in his shorts.

Patrick opened the box to see a golden ring in the center of it.

He didn’t say anything as he started at the price of jewelry.

Scared of his reaction, Dion started to ramble. “It’s, uh, a jasper stone or something like that, I don’t know. I just got it because it matched the one Art has and it’s kind of like the whole fire & ice thing. It’s also a pinky ring because I felt like that fit more of your vibe—” The girl's monologue was cut off by Patrick's lips in hers. The male kissed her vigorously, trying to show all his passion and affection through one kiss. He used so much force that Dion fell back into the bed, Patrick not detaching from her as she followed her down.

Breaking away for air, Dion looked up at the boy in front of her.

“So, you like it?” The girl asked out of breath.

“I love it.” Patrick’s said, sincerity laced in his tone. “But I’d love something else a whole lot more right now.” He said, giving the girl a knowing look, his pupils bigger than before. Dion laughed as she rolled her eyes.

“Okay.” Was all she needed to say for Patrick to trail fine her body and place his face between her legs. He said in his stomach and could practically smell her arousal. It was as if they were both animals in heat at this moment. Before he could dive in, even with her shirts still in, Dion spoke.

“Did you cum in your shorts?”

“Yeah, it happened in our last kiss”. Was all the answer he gave before his lips were latching onto her bottom ones poking through her shorts.

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