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sunrizef1 · 7 months ago

Text

The Alchemy

Pairing: Logan sargeant x singer!reader

Warnings: Cursing

Authors note: recently realized that every time i include Logan in a fic, he gets points. That is me manifesting xx Not edited, ill edit later. Very loosely based on the alchemy by Taylor swift. This album has me in a chokehold. Also!! Tysm for 1k, I’ve been trying to think of something to do for that xx

Word count: 7.6k (took way too long, thanks Tay)

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“Do you want to go to the f1 race in Miami? Ferrari invited you.”

Your head snaps to your publicist who tilts her head with a questioning look on her face. You set your guitar down, putting an end to your idle strumming. It rests on top of your notebook filled with random lyrics and doodles.

“I didn’t know I was allowed to do that,” you reply, laying back onto the couch you were sat on, shifting to sit in the seat more comfortably.

Your publicist, Aimee, rolls her eyes at your response, clicking away quickly on her phone, “I mean, you’re one of the biggest stars in the world, you could technically do whatever you wanted. It’s just never been in your image to go to sports or whatever. But everyone is gonna be there.”

There it is, the real reason you’d be allowed to go to a race was to be amongst the famous people that Aimee would, no doubt, want you to mingle with. Mingling wasn’t your strong suit.

“Ill think about it,” you give her a tight-lipped smile which she hums in response to, sliding out of the room without another glance at you.

The second she's gone, you collapse against the leather couch, eyes locked onto the ceiling of your studio.

The real reason you wanted to think about going to the race wasn't because Aimee only wanted you to go to get good pr but, instead, it was because of your own personal connection with one of the drivers.

You'd met Logan a year ago at the previous Miami Grand Prix. Noone knew you were there and you had intended to keep it that way before you ran into the driver.

You got in fairly easy, Mercedes VIP pass wrapped around your neck. You were close friends with Lewis who promised he could get you in and out with it still remaining a secret. You had your jacket hood up above your head, hair pulled back away from your face and a pair of sunglasses resting on your nose.

You hadn't thought about how many people you knew would be there. Your eyes stayed trained on the ground for the most part, hoping that it you didn't look up, no one you knew would notice you.

Because you weren't looking where you were going, you didn't see yourself run straight into a taller figure, landing against his hard chest.

Both of you stumble back a bit from the impact and you immediately open your mouth to apologize to the man in front of you but when you look up, the words die in your throat. Your eyes trace the features of the blond man, soaking up every little detail of his pretty face. You can tell he's muscular through his blue t-shirt and your breath catches slightly.

He's speechless when he sees you as well but for a completely different reason. You may not have been in your flashiest clothes or have your usual makeup or hair but anyone with a brain could recognize you if they actually bothered to look. Your music had been everywhere for so long and Logan would be lying if he said he hadn't had a crush on you for the longest time.

When you look up at his face and see him gaping slightly in an attempt to make sure you're actually you, you grasp his hand and start to pull him along before he can blow your cover. You pull him along until you reach a quiet corner, quickly pushing him away from the eyes of other people.

He leans against the wall behind him, crossing his toned arms across his chest and you find yourself gazing again.

“So,” he starts, voice filled with humor, “What is Americas sweetheart doing at a Formula 1 race... Undercover?”

You roll your eyes but cant help the grin that starts to form from the mans words, “I'm not actually supposed to be here.”

“Oh and that's why I got dragged into a dark corner?” the man asks, grin splitting his pretty face.

You laugh but don't catch the pleased look on the man's face, “Yeah, sorry about that. Didn't want anyone to, I don't know, mob me or something.”

“I get it,” when he says it, you can't help but believe he really does get it for some reason. For all you knew, this man might just work PR for…you glance down at his t-shirt to check, Williams Racing!

“Well, thank you for cooperating…?”

The man raises his eyebrows at your questioning tone, “Logan.”

“Thank you for cooperating Logan. I know a lot of people that probably would've fought me for grabbing them like that.”

Logan laughs, head leaning back against the wall gently as the noise leaves his throat, “Its no problem. Are you in the Mercedes garage today?”

You nod at his words, glancing back out to make sure the both of you are still hidden from the outside, “Lewis said he could sneak me in.”

“He didn't do a very good job, then. If I found you out,” Logan grins, leaning away from the wall.

“Maybe not. But you're not gonna tell, are you?” you tilt your head teasingly at the blond, eyes crinkling with the weight of your smile.

He laughs again, sticking his pinky out between the two of you, “I won't, pinky promise.”

You giggle and Logan decides its the only noise he cares to hear from now on. You stick your hand out as well, wrapping your pinky around his and the two of you just stand there for a second, gazing toward the other.

But eventually, both of you seem to remember that there were time-sensitive events about to happen just about 10 meters from where you're stood. You break away from him, smile stuck on your features.

He walks away first, his grin replicating yours. He turns toward you as he walks away, pulling a hand up to wave goodbye slightly as he slides out of the corner.

“See you later, y/n,” he smirks before disappearing from view and something in you tells you you will be seeing him later.

You hurry to the Mercedes garage, having told Lewis you were there 15 minutes ago. He ushers you into his drivers room, telling you that you could chill there until the race started, only a slight bit of concern for your previous whereabouts written on his face. You don’t tell him you think you’d just fallen in love with some random teams random employee, deciding that was a bit too off topic for the currently rushing Lewis who was practically running around his room trying to get his stuff together. He wasn’t stressed since he was, of course, Lewis Hamilton, but this was the most frazzled you’d seen him

“Ill be back before the race starts,” Lewis nods toward you while he opens the door, things clutched in his tattooed hands.

“Have fun, Lew!” you call out, collapsing against his couch the moment he leaves.

You pass the time scrolling through your phone, scribbling random lyrics into your notes app and trying not to fall asleep. Lewis comes back quick enough, sneaking you into the garage with your hood pulled tightly over your hair and sunglasses sat firmly on your face.

No one spares you a second glance and if they do, they know better than to question Lewis Hamilton.

Your eyes are drawn to one of the screens above you, the drivers all stood out in a line together for the national anthem and your eyebrows raise when they land on a certain blond man. Right in front of your eyes, Logan is stood in Williams blue and white next to his teammate as the national anthem plays behind them.

Oh, that cheeky bastard.

Well, at least you now knew where to find him after the race. When the race starts, you try your hardest to stay focused on the Mercedes and cheer for Lewis but you can’t help but let your eyes trace the path of a certain blue car instead.

When the race ends and Logan’s in p8, you find yourself anxiously waiting for Lewis to get back so you can dip. You bounce passively on your heels, fingers picking at the fraying edge of your jacket. The Miami sun beats down relentlessly, making sure you stay safely in the shaded garage.

Lewis gets back quick enough, having not been on the podium this race. You give him a quick hug and a congratulations, telling him you’ll text him if you ended up wanting to get dinner later. You didn’t give him a concrete dinner plan since you had a feeling you’d be busy later.

You practically sprint out of the garage in your effort to find Logan before he leaves, missing the confused look you leave on Lewis’ face as he watches you run.

You honestly had no idea where the Williams garage was but when you see the familiar blue, you stop in your tracks outside the exit. You lean on the wall just outside the door, hoping no one will see you as they leave.

A driver in orange passes you, Oscar maybe, giving you a perplexed look as he walks by. You just dip your head farther, hoping he didn’t recognize you. Or worse, think you’re some kind of stalker.

But before the kid can call any security or ask you for a picture, a familiar laugh sounds out as someone opens the door next to you. You glance up and see Logan exiting and you reach over and grasp his wrist. Logan looks up to see you, his infinite smile seemingly stretching even wider as he see your concealed state.

“Hi, y/n,” he laughs dopily, abandoning whoever he’d been walking out with. You glance over his shoulder to see Oscar with his eyebrows furrowed and you pray any of his concern had disappeared when he saw Logan’s positive reaction.

“Hi, Logan,” you smile back, pulling him away from the garage and hopefully away from anyone at all, ending up in a corner not dissimilar to the what you had pushed him into earlier that day, “Congrats on the points. Can’t believe I thought you worked PR or something.”

He grins again, carding a hand through his sweaty hair. Your eyes trace the fireproofs he hadn’t taken off yet, trying not to ogle the muscles under the shirt.

“Thanks, I’m pretty sure both parts of those are compliments?” your eyes snap back to his and away from his chest. You can tell from the smirk on his face, he had noticed your stare and you try your best to control your blush.

As you two stand in the corner quietly for a moment, you’re surprised when Logan’s the one to break the silence.

“Do you want to get dinner later?” Your eyebrows shoot up in shock at his confidence but they quickly settle as you smile softly.

“I’d love to.”

Logan grins once again, shoulders obviously relaxing at your response, “My phones in my room… or I’d get your number.”

You laugh slightly as he leans back against the wall behind him, his own blush covering his cheeks as you giggle.

“I’ll go with you,” you state simply, shrugging your shoulders and watching as his own eyebrows raise.

“You sure?”

You laugh as he leans closer to you, “yeah I’m sure, Logan. I’ll give you my number and you can send me dinner plans and we can have a great time. Celebrate your win.”

“I didn’t win,” Logan’s face looks somewhere between a grimace and a smile. His hands moved to wrest against his hips. Right where his race suit was also sat.

“You got points. Close enough to a win in my book,” you shrug, smiling big.

Logan laughs loudly, head leaning back against the brick wall behind him and your own laugh joins his, creating a chorus of joy that wasn’t to common on these parts of the paddock.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll text you then. Come on, I need to shower,” he says to you, returning the previous favor by grasping your wrist in his and pulling you along to his drivers room. When he starts walking, you slide your wrist out of his grasp and intertwine your fingers instead, pretending not to see the grin that splits his face.

When you get to his room, you quickly put your number in his phone before exiting. As much as you wish you could’ve stayed, you had places to be and if you were going on a date, you'd need a few hours.

Logan texts you the minute you're in the car back to your place and you grin stupidly at the words on your screen, texting back quickly.

The date goes well, Logan being a perfect gentleman the whole time. He had picked a nice steakhouse he had no doubt been to a couple times growing up, considering you knew how he’d grown up. You had definitely not pulled his Wikipedia up the second your feet hit the floor of your room.

He sips his wine passively, much more interested in the stories you were telling about being on tour and the time one of your backup dancers had accidentally hooked up with one of the drivers. He offers to cut your steak for you and you let him, simply because none of your ex’s would have ever done something as small as that. He reads the dessert menu to you, asking the waiter for a second fork when you order the chocolate cake despite your objections about having your own slice. You both laugh but you shake your head when he offers to get a different piece. He picks up the bill despite your protests, sliding his card into the check and handing it back before you can even attempt to grab it from him. Then he walks you back to the car, arm around your shoulders as you try not to trip in your heels. When he drops you off, he moves to walk away from your doorstep but you’re quick to grasp his wrist, pulling him in and slamming the door behind the both of you.

That had been a year ago and you were still in love with Logan.

A year of Logan sneaking you in and out of the garage and a year of coincidentally scheduling tour shows to line up with race weekends. You’d released two albums about him. Not even your own manager knew who the songs were about. The only person who knew about the relationship was Lewis, who figured it out pretty quickly when you didn’t text him to get dinner that very first night. He was actually quite helpful in getting you in and out of the paddocks all across the world. He was pretty private to begin with so no one asked him many questions about where he was sneaking off to.

It’s not that you didn’t want to world to know about your relationship. It’s more that it was nice to have something you loved be private for once. Every boyfriend you’d ever had was inevitably mobbed by fans every time they stepped outside. Not that you were too empathetic. Half of your ex’s were contractually obligated to date you by your agency and the other half just sucked as people.

Logan was the first boyfriend you truly loved and got to choose to be with every day. Also, if your agency found out you’d secretly been dating someone and sneaking around for a year, you’d never hear the end of it and you’d probably get dropped for breach of contract, or whatever.

You didn’t tell anyone else on the grid. You would've but Logan dissuaded you after telling you that none of them could keep a secret for their lives.

So, the second Aimee left the room, your first calls is to Logan.

“Hey baby,” Logans voice echoes across the phone. You can hear a bit of exhaustion in his voice and recall him telling you he was about to work out, “Whats up?”

You can't help the heat that rises to your cheeks at even his simplest words, “Hey, are you free to talk?”

“Yeah, yeah, just finished working out with Benny,” He replies, and you car hear the beep of a car unlocking and the door opening before closing, “Everything okay?”

You hum, shifting in your seat, “Yeah, I'm fine. Aimee just asked if I wanted to go to the Miami gp with Ferrari.”

There's a few seconds of silence from Logans end of the phone before he responds, “Do you want to?”

“It’d be nice to go and not have to hide in the back of Mercedes,” you sigh, weighing the pros and cons, “But I don't want to go with Ferrari.”

“You can't pick the garage?”

“I’ll try but I feel like Aimee will just stick me in whatever garage she wants me in,” you sigh again, sinking dejectedly into the couch, “Not sure I'd get much of a choice.”

“I’d love to have you there,” you can hear the slight smile in his voice and you laugh warmly despite your previous annoyance.

“Ill try and convince her. I'll see you there Logan,” you smile, sitting up in your seat. You fiddle with a piece of your hair, glancing around the small room you're in. You weren't super confident you could convince Aimee but if Logan wanted you there, you'd try your hardest to get in the Williams garage.

Logan laughs, “See you there, babe. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Logan hangs up and you smile, tossing your phone down next to you. You're quick to pick it back up though, texting Aimee to ask if you can be in the Williams garage instead.

When the day of the Miami GP arrives and your stood in the Williams garage, its as much of a surprise to you as it is to everyone else. You had spent the past month trying to convince Aimee to let you sit in Williams instead of Ferrari. She had spent the past month telling you that it’d be better for your image to be in Ferrari.

You hadn't told Logan you’d be in his garage since, until that morning, you didn’t know you would be. You weren’t initially sure what made her change her mind but when you entered the garage and saw several celebrities almost more famous than yourself, it made sense. Of course she’d only agree to get you to be seen interacting with more a-listers. Jokes on her, though, because instead of staying in the garage for the next few hours, you decided to walk around. You were actually hoping to find Lewis in something other than a dark corner for once.

On the other side of the paddock, Logan had ended up in Ferraris hospitality after Oscar had dragged him along to meet up with Lando who was meeting up with Carlos who was meeting up with Charles who was meeting up with Max. So, in the end, Logan felt out of his element.

He chair sat slightly away from the others as they all talked about Miami, a place that Logan honestly didn’t have much to say about anymore. Maybe if someone asked, he’d say something. But he honestly wasn’t feeling it. He’d be more enthused if you were stood in his garage instead of Charles’, cheering him on. But, no, Aimee had you stuck in the red and yellow.

“Did you guys hear that y/n l/n is here?” A Spanish accent rings out from across the little circle of chairs, causing Logan’s head to snap up.

Lando’s head shoots up as well, eyes locking onto Carlos’, “You’re kidding! I love her!”

Carlos nods his head at the Brit, grinning widely, “Yeah, I heard some engineers talking about her earlier!”

Max snorts, shaking his head in disbelief, “If she was here, one of us would’ve seen her already. She’s not in either of our garages,” Max gestures between him and Charles who’s sat with an agreeable look on his face, nodding at Max’s words.

“I’m gonna ask around. If she’s here there’s no way I’m not giving her my number,” Lando laughs, already looking around for someone to interrogate. Logan has to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. Although it was weird Charles hadn’t seen you. Maybe he’d just left before you’d arrived.

“You sure she’s even single, mate?” Oscar asks the brunette man, laughing slightly as he turns around toward the Aussie with a smirk on his face.

“She hasn’t been seen with anyone in like a year and a half and there’s definitely no shortage of men in love with her. I’m about to jump on that before anyone else here snatches her up,” Lando laughs again, standing up from his chair quickly almost as if he’s about to sprint out but suddenly Lewis appears beside the little group, catching Lando before he can.

“What are you guys doing?” Lewis asks with a raised eyebrow, eyes surveying the group before they stop on Logan. Logan glances away from the older man quickly, choosing instead to stare at the ground.

“Talking about y/n l/n. Apparently she’s here and Landos so in love with her that he’s about to sprint out and find her. I’d want her number too but Lando seems more passionate,” Carlos laughs and Charles nods along with a grin. Lewis’ eyes land back on Logan with a small smirk gracing his features.

“Yeah but we’re not sure she’s even here, we all think she would’ve been in one of our garages if she was here,” Max continues, gesturing toward his fellow drivers. Logan has a sneaking suspicion he meant every garage beside Williams.

Logan grins again, pushing Lando softly back into his seat. Logan can feel the man’s gaze on his lowered head as he respond, “Well, she’s is here. She’s in the Williams garage.”

With that, Logan’s head snaps up to meet Lewis eyes and the eyes of all the other drivers move quickly toward Logan who’s too busy looking at Lewis to sink under their piercing gazes.

“She’s looking for you,” Lewis nods at Logan who’s quickly to stand from his seat, six pairs of eyes on his back as he turns away.

“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath as he starts to walk away from the group, his movements quickly turning into a run.

Back in the little circle, Lando sits with a pouty look on his face while everyone besides Lewis sits with incredulous looks on their faces. Lewis sits proudly, a small smirk on his face. Oscar is the one to break the silence.

“What the fuck just happened?”

Logan reaches the garage quick enough, hearing whispers of your name echo between engineers and PR workers alike, all mumbling about your surprising presence in the garage.

He jogs lightly over to Alex, slinging an arm around the taller drivers shoulders. The man turns away from the conversation he was having with Lily, furrowing an eyebrow at the weirdly exhausted American.

“What’s up mate?”

“Have you seen y/n?” Logan says through labored breaths, eyes tracing every corner of the building in search of a sign of you.

Alex shakes his head, glancing back toward his girlfriend, both with matching confused looks on their faces, “Nah mate, apparently we’ve just missed her.”

Logan groans dramatically, sliding away from Alex and moving toward the exit once again, correctly assuming you must be looking for Lewis. Alex turns back to Lily whose confusion mirrors his.

“What was that about?”

“No idea.”

Logan’s once again jogging through the paddock in search of you, praying he gets there before Lando can thoroughly weird you out or flirt enough to give you trauma.

His heads bowed to shield himself from the Miami heat so he doesn’t see himself run straight into someone. He reaches out to catch whoever he’s just thrown toward the ground and when he looks up he’s met with your pretty face. He’s honestly never been more relieved to see someone.

“Hi,” you smile softly as he leans you back to standing, arms still wrapped gently around your torso.

“Hi,” he laughs, out of breath from his jog. You both stand and stare in each others eyes for a moment, adoration in the air between you.

“That felt quite familiar,” you break the trance, laughing as his arms finally move away from you in order to keep a little decorum.

Logan barks a laugh, hand moving to run through his blonde hair as he glances toward the ground abashedly, “Yeah, except this time, you’re not pulling me into a dark corner.”

You glance around at the bustling people around you, realizing how little you cared about people seeing you interact. A weight feels like it’s been lifted off your shoulders at the fact you don’t have to hide your conversations around here anymore. It actually felt quite freeing.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you reply, smiling as sunlight hits the side of your face, eyes not catching the loving stare Logan is sending your way as you bask in the Miami sun.

Logan grins, eventually pulling you away from the sun as he grasps your wrist. You lean into his side slightly, keeping a reasonable distance for people to think you’re just close friends. You’d already talked about how mad your agency would be if they found out you were dating. So you both agreed interactions in the paddock would be kept to platonic.

But as much as you tried to keep them so, you could only do so much. It was hard to keep the love out of your eyes as you stared at Logan, eyes tracing the side of his face. Anyone with eyes could see how gently he held you, with all the love and care in the world.

As you arrived back at the Williams garage, Logan kept walking and pulled the two of you back into his room as quietly as he could. Shutting the door gently behind him. As soon as the doors closed, your hand is wrapping around the side of his face and pulling him down to meet him in a gentle kiss.

He smiles into it, arms wrapping around your shoulders as you walk the two of you back to the couch, both flopping down onto it. You lean back against the arm rest as he lays against your chest, the exhaustion of a race weekend finally catching up with him.

“Go to sleep baby,” you say quietly, fingers carding through his sun-bleached hair, “You’ve got more than a few hours. I’ll wake you up when someone comes to get you.”

Logan hums half-heartedly, eyes already closing as he shifts to sit against you more comfortably, sleep quickly overtaking him. You scratch his head passively as he sleeps, almost petting him as if he was a golden retriever. You slide your phone open, mumbling lyrics and rhythms under your breath. You mange to type a few verses into your phone with one hand, occasionally having to pull your other hand away from his head momentarily. Every time you did, though, he’d shift in his sleep and your hand would go right back.

It’s a few hours of this before anyone comes to disrupt his nap, the door sliding open without a knock. Your eyes catch Alex’ and you quickly raise your hand with a shushing motion, gesturing down at the man sleeping on top of you. Although, Alex seems more preoccupied with your presence than Logan’s sleeping state, mouth dropping open as he takes in you and his teammates predicament.

“The team needs Logan, they’re about to start getting ready,” Alex manages to spit out, eyes still bouncing between the two of you. You nod, moving one hand to tap at Logan’s face lightly. The man groans through his tiredness, eyes cracking open slowly.

“Teams getting ready, they need you,” you smile down at him. He glances up at you with a small smile, eventually rolling off of you to stand up with a yawn.

Only then do his eyes catch on his teammate stood by the door, shock and confusion lacing his figure. Logan just waves slightly, drowsiness still fogging his mind. Alex blinks, arms frozen to his side.

When Logan grabs his stuff and steps out of the small room, stopping to give you a kiss on his way out, Alex finally snaps out of his haze.

“What the hell, man?” Alex manages to spit out.

Logan yawns as he walks by his teammate, a hand reaching up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, “Huh?”

Alex splutters through his words incredulously, “Why were you sleeping on top of y/n l/n? One of the biggest stars in the world was just hanging out in your room!?”

Logan hums, running a hand over the lines that had appeared on his face during his nap, “That’s my girl, man.”

Alex stops in his tracks, eyes wide and mouth dropped in shock, “What!?”

Logan rolls his eyes at his teammates dramatics, dragging him along next to him and also gesturing for Alex to keep his volume down, “Yeah, we’ve been together for a year and a few months.”

“Mate, what? She’s released like 3 albums in that time,” Alex starts before he seems to come to a realization, eyes snapping back to Logan again, “Oh my god, is reputation about you!?”

When Logan concedes and nods in response, a grin break out on his teammates face, “What about Lover? Or nonsense? Or espresso? Oh my god, so many of her songs must be about you!”

Logan holds back his annoyance, blaming his exasperation on his quite recent wake up call, taking a moment to remind himself that Alex was just surprised. If this had been any other day, he’d take any chance to talk about how cool you were or how much he loved you. But after everything with Landos crush and the boys thinking you’d only ever been seen in their garages, he was honestly annoyed. Not at you, of course, just at how everyone was acting without any tact.

“Yeah, come on, the team needs us,” Logan yawns, dragging his teammate down the hall, the latter still with a stupid grin on his face.

You stepped back into the garage again eventually, eyes scanning the parts of the garage you hadn’t seen before while hidden in the corners. Of course, the Williams garage was completely unfamiliar. But you hoped it wouldn’t be unfamiliar anymore after today.

You can feel the cameras and questioning glances on you, wondering why you’d be at an f1 race, let alone Williams. Everyone thought you’d be in Red Bull or Ferrari or at the least, Alpine, since several of your athlete friends had invested.

You’re not sure what the rules are for drivers going into garages that aren’t theirs but you’re ninety-nine percent sure Lando wasn’t supposed to be here. It didn’t help that he seemed to have dragged Oscar, Max and Charles along with him.

“Oh my god, y/n l/n!” You hear the Brit call out first, giddiness lacing his words. You glance over to see the four drivers approaching, turning your gaze back to the team momentarily to check if this was allowed. There’s uneasy looks on their faces but none of them move to kick them out so you turn back to the quartet.

“Hi?” You smile with a raised eyebrow and you swear you see Lando blush. Oscar rolls his eyes as the older driver starts dramatically fanning himself.

Charles is the first person to respond normally, sticking out his hand as he leans toward you, “It’s nice to meet you, we’re big fans. Some of us obviously more than others.”

You laugh as Charles side-eyes Lando who responds by sticking his tongue out. Their interactions made sense considering you were pretty sure half of them never graduated high school. You reach out and shake Charles’ hand before dropping it as Max reaches out his own.

“I’m Max, not sure how much you know about F1,” Max states, tilting his head. If only he knew just how many races you'd been to.

You nod your head with a small smile, ignoring the way Lando is staring with a dopey look on his face, “Yeah, yeah, I've actually watched a lot of races, so I've seen you win a lot haha.”

Max smirks slightly, shaking his head. Lando frowns as Oscar elbows him and mumbles something under his breath, “She’s never seen you win, mate.”

Your head snaps toward the drivers in papaya as Lando practically tackles Oscar, putting the Aussie in a headlock. You tilt your head toward Charles who’s watching with a frown but makes no effort to separate the pair, “This happen a lot?”

He hums, nodding his head, not taking his gaze away from the thing 1 and thing 2 now on the ground in front of you, “Yeah, they’re like puppies, got to let them get their energy out somehow. No ones been seriously maimed. Yet.”

You snort, finally looking away from the idiots as you hear someone walk up behind you, Charles and Max, the latter turning around as well.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” The commanding voice of the Williams team principal rings out, causing the two mclarens to halt their movements, immediately separating as they stand up.

James surveys the little group for a few moments and you look over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of blond hair before it disappears.

“Now,” James starts, scanning the drivers in front of him, all in varying colors of team shirts, “I could probably get you all in trouble for being in my garage but since I’ve heard a lot of excitement about our guest today, I’ll let it slide.”

You looks back to the man in front of you when you hear a mention of yourself, skin heating as several pairs of eyes all look to you. You look away and back to where you’d seen Logan, hoping for a quick escape. You find him but you watch as he makes eye contact with Lando before turning away as quick as he can. Lando, on the other hand, shoots a hand out to point at the driver, moving forward toward him.

“Logan!” He yells as the aforementioned driver turns away, making himself busy with pretending to be helping Alex, “I need to know what he did to get you in his garage!”

Lando gestures at you before moving to walk past you. He only makes it a few steps before James is stepping in front of him, pushing the lighter man back slightly, “I actually believe you will all be going back to your own garages, yes? It’s almost time for the race.”

Lando frowns with a suspicious look on his face, planting his feet firmly in the ground beneath him as if challenging James to move him. Oscar rolls his eyes before grabbing the brunettes wrist and dragging him out of the room, waving slightly at Logan as he exits.

Charles and Max both wave at you as they leave but Max is the one calling out, “Nice to meet you, y/n.”

You smile at the pair, waving them goodbye. You sigh as you turn around, tiredness filling your face. James stops you before you can stalk off to your seat for the race, hands grasping your shoulders lightly.

“It’s nice to finally meet my drivers girlfriend,” there’s a knowing look on the man’s face and you open your mouth to respond but he beats you to it, “He didn’t tell me. But I saw you two in the hall earlier, the boy had love written on his face, it would’ve been hard to miss.”

You blush, looking down toward the ground with a smile, “Thanks Mr Vowles, it’s nice to meet you as well.”

James laughs, ruffling your hair as he leans away, “Have a fun day, kid. Maybe you’re his lucky charm. And you can call me James.”

You smile as you walk away, smoothing your hair back to place. You weren’t too annoyed by the antics since it was pretty windy anyway, your hair had already been going wild.

“Thanks, James. Good luck, today.”

He just nods in response before slipping away, no doubt to get ready for the race. You turn to talk to Logan but he’s already been swept up in the chaos of the pre-race so you leave him to it, finally making it to your designated seat for the day.

It’s not long before it’s lights out and away we go.

P3. P fucking 3. Logan had just gotten a podium.

You don’t think you’d ever screamed as loud as you had when he crossed the line. Luckily, Alex’ girlfriend, Lily seems just as excited as you, jumping up and down as the team celebrated around you. Fortunately, Alex had had a good race as well, finishing in fifth.

You didn’t bother wiping the tears that were falling from your eyes, too busy trying not to fall over in your expensive heels as Lily dragged you to where the team was meeting at the barriers. Sun shines brightly down on you all, painting your faces with a warming light. Williams employees revel in joy from all around you, pure happiness gracing their usually joy-deprived faces.

The crowd seems to part as you and Lily make your way to the barriers, grasping at each other tightly, trying to make sure this was all real.

Tears stream down your face, no doubt taking your mascara with them. You have to gasp for air more than a couple times, pure elation taking over your breath. You watch as the blue car rolls in front of you, slowing to a stop. Lily hugs your arm tightly, already having heard about your relationship from Alex. You see Alex’ car out of the corner of your eye but you’re too busy trying not to collapse.

Logan steps out of the car, hands visibly shaking. You can practically see the smile through his helmet as he stands on the nose of his car, the crowds of Miami cheering for their hometown hero.

He jumps down and moves to take off his helmet, gloves coming off with them. He glances around at the crowd above him, taking in the moment he gets to be the hero for once, gets to be revered. But his eyes do move away, tracing the crowd for his team.

When his eyes land on yours, another tear slides down your face and drops off into the warm concrete below you. His grin in that moment could move mountains, filled with enough pure joy to heal any aches and pains you’ve ever felt. You can’t look away from his child-like joy, having never seen him this happy in your entire year of dating. His eyes widen with a warmth you wish you could find a way to stay in forever, almost rivaling the warmth of the Miami sun.

Someone from race control tries to get him to go get weighed but he’s dropping his helmet before taking off in a run. He reaches you and before you can even say a word, he’s grasping your face in his hands and leaning down to put his lips against yours, melting into your embrace.

Screams echo around you but all you can hear is the words Logan whispers as he breaks away, leaning his forehead against yours, “I did it, baby.”

You laugh, leaning toward him as he reaches a hand up and wipes away your tears, “Yeah, you did. I’m so proud of you!”

Logan smiles, closing his eyes momentarily to take in the love between you, “Thank you for coming, I love you so much, baby.”

You tilt his head up to catch his lips in another searing kiss, hoping he can feel just how proud and in love with him you are, “I love you too, so, so much.”

You’re both just grasping at each other, praying to be able to simply hold each other for as long as you can before someone pulls him away. Unfortunately, that comes sooner than you’d hoped as someone from race control pulls him away to get weighed. You finally break from the trance he’d put you in, looking around to see Charles and Max staring at Logan as he walks in front of them, glances shared between the pair in p1 and p2.

Lily wraps an arm around you as Alex walks away from her as well and you lean your head on your shoulder, watching as your boyfriends talk after getting weighed, obvious congratulations and pats on the back being shared between the two.

You knew this would make Aimee mad, but you honestly couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were too busy being young and in love. You could always find a different agency, you were in high demand after all.

Logan’s stood to the side with Alex when Lando walks up, eyebrows furrowed deeply as he surveys the Williams drivers.

“What the hell was that, mate?” Lando calls out to Logan, confusion creeping through his outward disapproval.

Logan laughs at the Brits face, sensing a bit of disappointment in the McLaren drivers demeanor, “The podium?”

Lando rolls his eyes, running a hand through his curls, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Logan laughs again as Alex throws his arm over the younger drivers shoulder, preparing to steer the two of them to interviews, “Just kissing my girlfriend, mate. Nothing else to it.”

Lando seems to be even more confused as the Williams drivers walk away, although he does eventually manage to shout out a final sentence, “How’d you manage that!?”

Logan practically cackles as Alex snorts, knowing as much as he did that it was a miracle he had pulled you, “I’m not sure either!”

They do eventually make it to interviews and then podium, Logan sending a heart down at you with his hands before Charles and Max turn to him, champagne in hand. Logan stands there and takes it, Miami sunlight bounces off the rivulets of alcohol that cascade across his tanned skin, still hot with the warmth that had infected him during the race.

The next morning, you don’t remember much from the night before. You had gone out to celebrate with Logan and of course, it was Miami and you were known so it wasn’t too hard to find the best spots. Drinks flowed and music pumped and you’re pretty sure you were hanging out with pitbull at one point.

Logan was still asleep in your bed in your Miami home, shirt missing and a distinct smell of beer sticking to his skin. His hair was ruffled and random pieces of glitter floated around his skin. His shins were hanging off the edge of the bed and random marks littered his exposed back, scratches and bruises, no doubt your fault, painting his usually blank skin with hues of red and purple. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been more in love with him.

You slide from the bed quietly, moving toward your guitar as a sudden bout of lyrics plagues your mind, begging to be released. You strum passively as you sit out on your balcony, humming lyrics under your breath as Logan remains asleep soundly in your bedroom.

“Said it’s still reserved for me … who are we.. fight the alchemy?”

A month later, Logan’s entering the paddock, his phone clutched tightly in his hand and headphone covering his ears. He’s making his way to his garage when he’s suddenly bombarded by the same five drivers from Miami, all talking over each other.

“Calm down, one at a time, please,” Logan sighs, waiting for them to quit speaking at the same time. They all stop, Carlos being the one to speak first.

“Have you heard the new y/n song?” Carlos asks, eyes raised widely. Logan laughs as he asks it, sliding his phone open to Spotify, proudly showcasing your new song playing on loop.

The Alchemy - y/n l/n

Logan slides his phone in his pocket, walking away before Lando can wax poetic about you or complain about Logan stealing you away from him. Logan glances back to see Oscar covering Landos ears as the song starts to play from a nearby speaker. Logan laughs as Charles, max and Carlos do the opposite of helping by deciding to sing it loudly in the Mclaren boys face.

Alex watches his teammate walk up, pulling off his headphones to find the song also playing the garage. Alex laughs, leaning his head back in content, basking in the pure happiness radiating through the atmosphere this weekend.

“Good song,” Alex hums, cracking an eye open to see a wide grin split the younger man’s face.

“Thanks man, it’s about me.”

Alex laughs, leaning back against the chair he was sitting in, watching as Logan sways to the song, lips moving to the words no one else had had time to learn yet.

Alex closes his eyes again, letting the rhythm of the song and Logan’s hums take over his hearing. He wasn’t sure about your relationship at first but he honestly hoped you’d stay together just so he could see Logan this happy every weekend.

You, on the other side of the world, were listening to the song at the very same time, singing the lyrics to yourself and dancing to a song Logan had been hearing for the past month non-stop.

As you danced along, you just knew Logan was out there somewhere, dancing with you.

———————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

#scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smau #logan sargeant x fem!reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargent fluff #fem!driver!reader

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ja3hwa · 23 days ago

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♡ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐲 | 𝐒.𝐌𝐆 ♡

Day Sixteen Special - Collaring

【Synopsis】 : Who knew Mingi would be into collars.

『Word count』 : 1.87k

-> Genre: Pwp. Non!idol au

Pairing: Bf!Mingi x Gf!Reader

[Warnings] : Making out. Hickies. Bite marks. Fucking on a rocking chair (yes thats a warning). Unprotected sex. Dirty talk. Pet names. Switch leaning Sub Mingi. Switch leaning Dom reader. Use of the name Mistress. Mingi likes to whimper. Photographs, hehe.

Note: Sooo if anyone knows what Love and Deepspace is... uh, this fic is inspired by Sylus in a collar and the rocking chair card with Zayne.. enjoy hehe. ♡♡

This is my second day of @whatudowhennooneseesyou 's kinktober event. Please make sure to check out all the other fantastic writers who have also joined this event ♡

Network: @k-vanity @cromernet @wonderlandnet @illusionnet

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List | Tip Jar ♡

You were baffled at first when you found out Mingi loved chokers. More so, he loved them more than just a simple fashion statement. The first time you found him eyeing the collars in a Gothic store, your mind wandered to the extent of your lover boy's obsession. And that’s when you found yourself noticing Mingi’s quick glances at the various collars on the wall in the local sex shop. You needed to stop in to buy some lube and condoms since you had run out, but you had decided to have a look around as well. To skillfully watch your lover's reaction, of course. Truth be told, you just wanted to see what Mingi might be into. Your relationship wasn’t new at all, but Mingi and you had yet to try anything outside the basics. Mingi knew what he liked, and he showed confidence in the bedroom a lot. But you, on the other hand. You had no clue. Mingi was your first real committed relationship, so exploring new things was something you both wanted to do.

So this is how you ended up standing right where you are now, collar in hand, feeling the soft leather between your fingers. Mingi was too busy chatting with the clerk about the lube options to notice the item in your hand at first. But when the staff left for the front desk, you sprung into action. Opening the collar, you reached up to hold it against Mingi's neck. He was surprised to say the least, taking a moment to stumble with a confused expression. “W-what are you doing, princess?”

“Just looking.” You giggled, smiling ear to ear as you took in the collar. The metal buckle in the front of it displayed so prettily against Mingi's strong features, while the leather complimented his skin tone. “We need to get this.” You expressed with urgency, looking up at him with bright eyes.

“Y-you want me to wear a collar?” Mingi could feel himself get hard embarrassingly quickly, his palm slightly rearranging his junk inconspicuously. He didn’t think you would be into collaring him. Heck, he didn't know he would be into it, but here he is. “You sure?”

"Oh, I'm more than sure. You would look so cute in nothing but a collar, Min.” Your smile was way too innocently sweet for what had just spilled from your lips. Mingi’s hand came up to grab yours in order to pull the collar away from him before quickly leaning down and whispering in your ear.

“If we don’t get home right now, I might just cum in my pants.” That was all you needed to hear as you both raced for the front counter before running off with cheeky smirks and hushed giggles. The store clerk obviously knew exactly what you two were going to get up to, but neither of you seemed to mind as you both quickly got back to your cozy home in no time. Mingi almost practically broke the front door down with the way he was shaking with the keys tightly in his grasp. But once he got the key into the lock, it was game time.

Shoes and jackets were left in a pile by the entrance; clothes trailed the hallway. Mingi had meant to land on the couch when he picked you up, but you both ended up on the rocking chair in the corner from him tripping on the carpet. Your hand braced on the dark brown leather, sitting up to see your lover’s lust-hazed expression, “Are you okay?” You huffed weakly with a growing smile.

“Better than okay.” Mingi’s lips found yours in haste, his hands squeezing your bare hips while his fingers danced along the hem of your pants. The collar was still tightly in your left hand, while your fingers dug into the cushion. “You smell so delicious, you know…”

Mingi's moans were muffled against your bra-covered tits as he kissed along the top of your chest. Your legs were on either side of his right thigh, letting him lift up the limb so he could press it against your clothed cunt. You sat up, making the chair rock back and forth, your clit rubbing firmly on his thick flesh. You had to bite your lip as you tried to compose yourself, unbuckling the collar with your shaky fingers. “You ready, big boy.”

“You have no idea.” He grunted, pushing his leg up to rock you gently on his leg. If you weren't so desperate to get this collar on him, you would have lost yourself in the pleasure. But you shook the feeling aside, snaking the leather around his exquisite neck. You looped the buckle, fastening the leather, smirking as you watched your gentle giant roll his eyes back slightly.

“Tight enough?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. Mingi’s hand grips your hips harder, his nails digging into your skin as he lets out a noise you’ve never heard from him.

“A little more...” he panted, bucking his hips as the rocking chair kept a steady sway. You followed his request, watching as his brows knitted together weakly and his bottom lip sank between his teeth. He was enjoying this a lot more than you and you couldn’t help but smile at that thought. Your finger slotted in the little half hoop that dangled in the front, before tugging him sharply, making the chair rock forward. He whimpered, his eyes snapping open to look at you pleadingly, your big dom baby was now nothing more than a pathetic mess beneath you.

“Such a pretty boy. You enjoying this baby?” You had no idea where your boost of confidence came from, but you ran with it. Maybe it was the way Mingi looked at you with such submissive eyes or the way you could feel his cock twitch through the thin fabric of his boxers.

“Yes…” He sighed, using the rocking chair to keep you grinding on him steadily. This is when you leaned down to whisper in his ear, your breath tickling his neck gently…“Yes, what?”

Mingi’s mind wandered for a moment, but his mouth moved before he could get in another thought, watching as the words slipped off his tongue without any fight, “Yes, mistress.”

Fuck, if that didn’t almost make you come. The higher pitch in his tone, the way he hiccuped in with the 'm’ to the word. To think Mingi couldn’t get any more perfect, then he pulls this shit. Your hand doesn’t leave the collar while your other moves from the head of the rocking chair to his clothed cock, nimbly pulling it out of its confinement. “Such a good boy.” You purr, stroking his cock firmly. Mingi’s hips buckled and his leg that was held against you dropped, making you get to work by pushing your soaked panties to the side. “You need my pussy big boy?”

“Y-yes. Please. Mistress. I need to feel you so badly.” Mingi felt tears welt on the corners of his beseeching eyes. Shifting quickly with a smug smile, you placed your legs on either side of him, slightly wobbling from the chairs' increasing rocking. Your cunt was directly over his cock, the tip just barely touching, letting him feel the heat drip from your body. His eyes sewn shut as he begged, “Please, hurry. I need it. I need to feel your pretty pussy wrapped around me.”

You were a little stunned, granted a little taken aback. You never thought you’d be into being on top or dominating a man, but here you were, growing more and more turned on by your giant baby's begs and pleas. The way he was crying to feel you. The way he called your mistress. It brought a new and thrilling tingle in your belly. So you bit your lip, slowly lowering yourself onto his cock, feeling every inch sink deep inside you with each passing breath. Yours and Mingi’s moans were harmonised as you both felt like you became one at this very moment. Your eyes fogged over, watching your lover thrash lightly under you while he used the rocking chair to tug you forward, the rest of his length bottoming you out. Mingi’s hands that were still on your hips moved to your ass, his feet planting on the edge of the rocking chair legs, using his strength to rock the chair, so your body would grind against him without the need to thrust his hips. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.”

“Min…Argh.” Your hand found its place against the head of the chair once more, but the hand that still held onto the hoop of the collar tugged, hard, causing Mingi to let out a beautiful gasp, his cock twitching at the painful pleasure. Your fingers untangled from the collar to grab his chin, turning his head to the side so your lips could latch onto his soft, heated skin. “Such a pretty boy. I told you, you’d look good in nothing but this collar.”

It was like something snapped in Mingi’s head when he heard those sweet words leave your lips. Bringing his knees up, he fucked up into you with passion, precision, and determination. Your light nibbles turned to bites, as you latched your mouth against his shoulder, screaming as you chomped down onto his flesh. Mingi roared from the pain mixing with pleasure, snapping his hips faster, while snaking a finger to your clit to help you reach the end. It all happened so fast, you swore you saw a white light cloud your vision as you came all over Mingi’s cock. He drilled into you a few more times before he came too, emptying his load heavily inside your abused cunt.

“Fuckk…” You sighed, sitting up slightly to see the hickies littering his neck and the bright bite mark decorated on his shoulder, topping off with the delicate leather tightly bound around his perfect neck. “Pretty boy.”

“Don’t call me that right now. I’ll fuck a baby in you if you’re not careful.” Mingi panted, his chest rising and falling quickly. You just simply chuckled, hopping off him. He watched you shakily walk over to his jeans, taking out his phone that was still in his pocket. While you bent down, he could see his cum dripping down your thighs, making him groan, stroking his already half-hard cock.

You waddled over, sitting back on him with a cheeky smile. Turning on the camera to snap a picture of his destroyed neck, to show him your work. You watched his expression redden when you showed him what he looked like, watching the fire burn in his gaze when you whispered, “Pretty boy."

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 8 months ago

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Half A Bed

No, this is not the "only one bed" trope I'm afraid, although if anyone has any ideas for a fic w that trope, do drop you ideas in the inbox!

Summary: You and Astarion share a bed

At this point, it has become a habit for Astarion to move and leave half his bed free for you to plop yourself on whenever you enter his tent, despite all his grumbling about needing to move from his comfortable position. You then accept the invitation and happily lie down next to him, stretching your arms above your head with a relaxed sigh.

Tonight, Astarion wraps his arms around you, nuzzling into your neck and deeply inhales your scent. He loves how you smell like him, bergamot filling his nose and he lets out a contented sigh. You exude a pleasant warmth as per usual, sharply contrasting his own cold body. He shifts a little so that you can wrap an arm around him, nestling him in a cocoon of your embrace. His cold slender finger draws random shapes on your stomach while he rests his head on your shoulder, enjoying the silence that has befallen his tent.

It wasn’t long ago when such silence would have made him uncomfortable, unsure of what to do, unsure of what you wanted to do, but you had explained yourself upon noticing his discomfort, telling him that sometimes you were just too tired to do anything but still wanted his company. He had agreed to allowing you to do that, despite his reservations about what he himself could do during that time but soon realised that you really didn’t mind what he did.

If he felt just as exhausted as you, he would simply lie next to you, cuddling in the bed. If he still had some energy to spend, he would play with your hair or trace doodles on your stomach. If he felt peckish, he would drink from your neck. The only thing he couldn’t quite bring himself to do was trance whilst you were still awake. He told himself it was because he wanted to watch over you, but in reality, it was because deep down, he still feared that one day you would leave him.

The comfortable silence washes over the both of you, save for the quiet sound of your breathing and the rustle of book pages as you read the book you had brought along with you.

You glance down to check on your vampire lover, a small smile on your face when you notice how relaxed he is and start running your hand through his hair with your free hand. He croons in response and leans into the rhythmic touch, letting the calm wash over him. Your smile only grows wider, a small chuckle slipping from your lips which causes Astarion to look up at you, eyebrows furrowed.

“What, may I ask, is so funny?”

“Nothing, Star. Don’t worry.” You press a kiss to his creased forehead. “Although, if you keep frowning like that, there will be permanent wrinkles on your forehead.”

“Excuse me? I am a vampire! Eternally young and beautiful, all thanks to my already handsome features from before I was turned.” He huffs, burrowing his face deeper into your shoulder.

“Mmhm, if you say so,” you hum, setting aside your book to fully focus on him. As you play with strands of his curly silver hair, he gives yet another exaggerated huff, wrapping his arms around you and lightly nips at your exposed shoulder. He gives you a pout as he has done many times before and at this point, you would think you’d be immune to it but something about the way he pouts makes your heart melt each and every time.

“Come here,” you groan, rolling over to wrap your arms around him. He grins, happily nuzzling into your shoulder and welcomes the familiar embrace, filled with warmth and love. He feels safest like this, knowing that whatever happens, he will always have you to return to, that you will always have his back just like he has yours. You’re also permanently warm, and while that was something you found annoying, Astarion thanked whoever it was that made you such. He never needed to worry about the cold, not when all he needed to do was snuggle against you whenever he started to get cold, or simply felt like it. Not once did you ever turn him down, and he doubted you would ever do so.

You bury your face into his soft curls, suppressing yet another chuckle when you hear him mutter something along the lines of being one of the most beautiful vampires in all of Faerun.

“My apologies, one of the most beautiful vampires in all of Faerun.” You snort.

“Apology accepted,” he crows, ego stroked.

You can’t help but laugh, holding him close and pressing more kisses to the top of his head.

“Simply calling you beautiful doesn’t do you justice, you know.” You ruffle his hair.

“Oh? Do go on, darling.” His eyes twinkle with amusement and happiness.

“You see,” you indulge him, “it’s really easy to call you beautiful because everyone does that, and the phrase ends up losing all meaning. Calling you…say…‘my entire world’ however, still holds a lot of meaning because nobody else calls you that.” You’re not sure why you’re being sappy tonight but you do know that you’re more than happy to give Astarion all the compliments in the world and more. He deserves at least that much.

Tears prick the edges of his eyes at your words and he quickly buries his tearing face in your shoulder, not wanting you to see how your words have affected him.

“It means everything, coming from you,” he whispers, the words struggling to leave his clogged up throat. He squeezes your hand tightly, hoping that the small gesture can convey everything he cannot say and from the look you give him, you’ve received the message.

He shifts to rest his head on your chest, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat and closes his eyes, letting the feeling he can’t qute describe wash over him. He sinks into the endless abyss of warmth that is you, barely aware of your arm moving to wrap around him to pull him closer but he likes the support that it brings. Even if he were to sink, he knows — no trusts — that you will be there to catch him. Maybe he could let his guard down for just a little while, a short respite from the exhausting day and trust that when he opens his eyes again, you’ll still be there, watching over him with that soft look in your eyes. You wouldn’t leave him when he’s at his most vulnerable, would you?

Ignoring the nagging feeling in his heart, he lets himself slip into a trance, lulled by the soothing sound of your heartbeat and the warmth of your body heat. It’s times like these where he misses being alive, he wishes he could feel his own heartbeat, feel the warmth of his body but when you still curl up against him even on the chilliest of nights, he thinks to himself that perhaps he is alright the way he is, with his cold undead body and sanguine hunger. You may have already told him such when he was confronted with the choice of ascending but while you may have accepted him as who he is, he still struggles with it from time to time. Doubts continue to claw at his thoughts, no matter how many times you drive them away, but if you will continue fighting against them for him, he will not give up.

Your heart flutters when you realise he’s drifting off into a trance. He subconsciously curls tighter into your side, fingers tightly grasping whatever they can reach.

“Rest well, my star.” You murmur, lips ghosting his forehead. It doesn’t take long for you to drift off as well, holding your world in your arms.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion x durge #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion ancunin #astarion fluff #astarion fanfic #astarion fic

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thewritingrowlet · 6 months ago

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The Outing Trip pt. 1, ft. tripleS Xinyu

tags: daddy kink, anal teasing, creampie, praise kink (just a bit), rough

tw: violence (OC takes a punch in the face, nothing crazy I promise)

word count: 12k+

author's note: this is the first part of a small series (4 parts max.) inspired by an anon's idea of a university outing trip (minus the "stranded in an island due to a storm with a bunch of girls" part) featuring a handful of tripleS members. This part also mentions Yooyeon, Nakyoung, Dahyun, and Chaeyeon as I consider them to be candidates to be featured in future parts.

p.s. after I finish writing part 2 of this series, I'm gonna stop writing about tripleS members for one or two fics. Let me know if you think there's anyone (who is over the age of 18 in May 2024) that needs attention (be it bcs they're from a less-popular group, or bcs they only debuted recently and you're a fan, etc).

It is now September. The hot summer days are starting to go and be replaced by the chiller and refreshing days of shorter daylight that autumn usually has in its bag. September is also the month where every single student organization in the university goes on outings to welcome their new members. That includes the student council that you’re the president of. You’re having a meeting with a bunch of council staffs and governors—the term your university uses to refer to council leaders on the faculty level because the university wants to replicate real-world governmental structure—in about 10 minutes to talk about details about the outing itself. Everyone will be wearing their uniform, which is a sight you find to be cute.

“President-oppa!”, you hear a girl’s voice behind you as you’re walking to the meeting place, so you turn around to see who it is. You see Xinyu, the council’s vice president who also happens to be your lovely girlfriend, walking like a supermodel towards you. “Hey, princess”, you greet her before taking her hand and pecking it. Xinyu loves it when you do those two things (call her “princess” and kiss her hand), blushing every time she sees you do it. You, on the other hand, don’t really care if her fondness of praises is a sign of narcissism because no one can tell you she doesn't deserve such treatment. You also don’t really care about displaying affection in public—why wouldn’t you want to show affection to your perfect-in-every-aspect girlfriend all the time? It also serves as an announcement that both you and Xinyu are off-limits since the relationship is not a secret.

“O-oppa”, she looks down at her shoes to hide the red hue on her cheeks, “you always do these sweet things to me”. You wrap an arm around her waist, “because you deserve it, sweetie”. She twiddles her index fingers in shyness, “but my heart can only take so much of it in a day, oppa”. “Skill issue, baby”, you chuckle—how adorable is it that you’ve been dating her for over a year and living together in an apartment for almost as long and she still gets overwhelmed with your sweet gestures and words?

“Xinyu-yah”, you throw a lifebuoy to save her from drowning in her own thoughts, “we need to get to get there fast, baby; there’s only a few minutes left and we’re the last people who get to be late”. You take her hand and start running, making Xinyu yell in surprise and possibly turn some people’s heads. You stop running when you’re in front of the elevator and press the button to go up. It’s nice that the elevator doesn’t have a CCTV in it, because you can share a bit of intimacy with Xinyu by pecking her on the lips and forcing a blush once again—her poor heart is guaranteed to give out by the end of the day. “Oppa, I really can’t take much of this anymore”, Xinyu complains. “Of course you can, what are you talking about?”, you laugh. You and Xinyu need to put on a serious face soon, though, as the elevator doors are opening, and you’ll be met with people outside.

“I thought you two were going to be late, not gonna lie”, Nakyoung, Xinyu’s best friend and fellow council member, greets you at the doors of the auditorium. “Do you really think that low of us, Nakyoung-ah?”, Xinyu protests. Nakyoung laughs, “not really, no—just thought maybe you ran off on a date or something”. Xinyu pinches Nakyoung’s cheeks in annoyance, making a small scene in front of a bunch of council members. You shake your head in amusement, “alright, that’s enough, kids. Is everyone here, Nakyoung-ah?”. “Almost; the Faculty of Medicine’s governor will be late. She’s still assisting in a lab and said you can start without her”, Nakyoung explains before taking you and Xinyu’s hands and pulling the both of you into the auditorium. You look at the clock hanging on the wall and see that you’re perfectly on time—perfectly calculated, if you say so yourself.

“Good afternoon, governors. Thank you for taking the time for today’s little meeting”, you take the center spot on the stage. You sometimes wonder why you talk and act like this in front of fellow students but since the university wants this to be as authentic of an experience as possible, you can’t help but play along. “This is September, and you guys know what it means: we need to welcome the new members of our councils on both the university and faculty level. Would someone kindly kick us off and report their preparation progress?”, you see the Faculty of Science’s governor, Kim Yooyeon, raise her hand so you step to the side and let her take your spot on the stage.

She starts presenting the things she and her members have done to prepare, such as consulting with the dean, surveying the area she wants to go to, and calculating the cost of the entire thing. You admire her thoroughness and ability to think ahead—the girl students call the goddess isn’t just known for her looks, but also sharpness of mind. Just one thing, though: she doesn’t like attention, as shown by the way she jogs back to her seat while partially covering her face after she’s done talking. “Thank you, Yooyeon-ah—oh, hello, Jiwoo-yah!”, you greet Son Jiwoo, the aforementioned governor from the Faculty of Medicine who just entered the room. “Hi, hello”, she rushes to her seat, “sorry for being late, I was needed in the lab”. “No, you’re fine, sweetie. Let’s continue, though”, your over-friendliness spills out and Xinyu glares at you from her seat, but you miss it since you don’t have eyes on the back of your head.

One governor after the other takes turns to present their plans; some have come up with elaborate plans, while others have simpler ideas as to how to welcome their new members. Once everyone is done presenting their plans, you wrap up the meeting (not without expressing appreciation to everyone) and let them go so that they can go about the rest of their day. Yooyeon stays behind, probably because she has some things to discuss with the three of you. “Hey, guys”, she approaches slowly, “I want to talk about something, but can we get out of here first? This auditorium keeps reminding me of some of my hardest days”. “Yeah, sure. Lead the way, unnie”, Nakyoung says before suggesting another idea, “are you guys free, by the way? We can talk over some food if you are—oppa will pay since he’s the richest among us”.

Nakyoung and Yooyeon walk side-by-side while holding hands, while you and Xinyu walk behind them with your hands intertwined. Xinyu then slows down her steps, creating a decent gap between Nakyoung and Yooyeon. “Oppa”, she tugs your hand, a hint of sadness in her voice, “you.. you’re not interested in Jiwoo-unnie, are you?”. Her question catches you off guard, “Jiwoo-unnie? Son Jiwoo? No, of course not. Why?”. “You, um, were a little too friendly with her earlier—I mean, she is pretty, so I understand”, she sulks. You try to recount what happened during the meeting, and you realize that you called her “sweetie”—that pet name is supposed to be reserved for Xinyu only. You instantly feel a huge wave of guilt at the realization, “I’m so sorry, baby. I promise you it was nothing but a slip up”. She lets go of your hand and hugs the clipboard she’s holding with both arms, “please don’t do that again. I-I didn’t like it”, she says.

She refuses to hold your hand for the rest of the walk, and that’s a hint the size of a mountain that you’ve fucked up and you’ll need to make it up to your princess. You finally arrive at the student-favorite noodle spot after a few minutes of walking. It’s not too packed since most students are in class, considering what time it is. Nakyoung joins your group after ordering for everyone. Yooyeon sits across Nakyoung, so that leaves Xinyu no option but to sit across you. Only when she sits down can you see her teary eyes, “you fucked up and now you’re in trouble, son”, your heart says. “Okay, unnie, we’re here. So, what was it you wanted to talk about?”, Nakyoung says. Yooyeon scratches the back of her head, “oh, um, I actually just wanted to hang out with you guys. You seem to be a fun trio to be around”. You chuckle, “yeah, that’s fine, we were getting food regardless. Welcome to the fold, I guess”. You arrange your words more carefully this time because you don’t want to fuck things up even further.

You’re now standing at the bus stop after the meal, still surrounded by your friends. “So, what now?”, you ask. Nakyoung, oblivious to your situation with Xinyu, throws her idea into the ring, “let’s go to your place, oppa. I really wanna lay down on that gloriously soft and fluffy sofa of yours”. You glance at Xinyu, who doesn’t seem to hate the idea, and nod in agreement to the idea, “yeah, we can do that. What about you, Yooyeon-ah? You have other classes after this?”. “N-no, ca-can I join you again? I-I don’t have many friends, you see”, Yooyeon hides her face behind her hands after saying that—you never knew a goddess could be so shy around people and have so few friends, but here you are. “Alright, let’s get on that bus so that we don’t have to walk to the parking lot”, you point to the approaching yellow campus bus—the off-site parking lot is not too far but you just can’t be assed to walk at the moment.

Doesn’t take long for the bus to arrive and take the four of you to the parking lot. You lead them to your car and Yooyeon makes a comment when she sees it, “nice car, Jisung-ah”. “I’m telling you, Jisung-oppa is rich, unnie. Daddy and mommy’s money, right, oppa?”, Nakyoung chimes in to tease you—this mischievous cat never runs out of ideas to tease her friends. “Well, when you put it like that”, you say. You’re never one to brag about your wealth, so you simply thank Yooyeon for the compliment and unlock the car so that your friends can get in. Xinyu gets in the front passenger seat like usual while the other two sit in the middle row.

You’re now out of the parking lot and on the way back to your apartment. “I need to stop at a convenience store, sorry. I need to buy something”, you say to your friends. “I bet he’s buying condoms”, Nakyoung chirps. Xinyu is probably not too entertained with what Nakyoung is suggesting, but they tease each other like that all the time. “I promise you I’m not”, you say as you pull into the driveway of the convenience store. “You guys do it raw, Xinyu-yah?”, Nakyoung lets out a fake surprise gasp at the end. “Kim Nakyoung, I promise I will throw you out the window of our apartment if you keep teasing me”, Xinyu says. “Look at them, unnie; they live together and have unprotected sex all the time”, Nakyoung turns to Yooyeon, who hides her face behind her palms again. You roll your eyes and get out of the car—you just want to get Xinyu’s favorite chocolate and snacks, it is not supposed to be this difficult, ever.

You finally arrive at your building after a short drive from the university. You hop off the car and walk in front, and would you look at that: Xinyu is wrapping a hand around your arm and leaning her head against your shoulder; “glad you’re feeling better, baby. I’m so sorry for being an ass”, you whisper to her. “I can’t stay mad at you for long, oppa, you know this”, Xinyu whispers back. Nakyoung is used to seeing your public display of affection, but Yooyeon, who is hanging out with your bunch for the first time, is not; she’s probably looking away so that she doesn't have to see this. You walk to the elevator and continue to your unit followed by the three girls, until you finally arrive at the door. Xinyu does the honors and unlocks the door before running into the bedroom. “Welcome to our little apartment, girls. Please make yourself at home”, you stand to the side and let them in. Nakyoung, as she has promised earlier, runs straight to your sofa and lies down on it, “Little apartment, my ass—oh my God, it’s so comfortable; this thing must be mad expensive. Unnie, come here, what are you doing?”, she invites Yooyeon who’s standing awkwardly in the doorway. “You can go with her, Yooyeon-ah. Please, make yourself comfortable”, you encourage her.

You then make your way to the bedroom to follow Xinyu and close the door behind you, you see that she has ditched her shirt for a white sleeveless tee that fits her perfect body like a bespoke glove. “I know you bought me snacks. Show me where they are or I will, I will—what’s a good one—not kiss you for the rest of the day”, she knows she can’t threaten you to save her life, so she must improvise to make herself sound scary. You chuckle and fish a bar of chocolate and a bunch of chips out of the bag, “for you, princess”. “Oh my God, chocolate too?! Thank you, oppa, you’re the best!”, she happily accepts your tribute and rips open a bag of chips. You peck the girl who’s munching so enthusiastically on the forehead, “anything for you, love. My world is dark without you”. Xinyu blushes at your words, “I can say the same about you, oppa. You know that right?”. You open your mouth to answer her, but that’s when you hear a knock on the door. “Oppa, Xinyu-yah, are you guys done having sex? Yooyeon-unnie wants to talk”, Nakyoung says from the other side of the door.

Xinyu rushes out of the bedroom and flicks Nakyoung’s forehead, “we were not having sex, God damn it!”. You follow Xinyu out of the bedroom and head to the dining table, “play nice, girls. Come, we can talk here”, you call out to your friends. Yooyeon joins you on the table, followed by Xinyu and Nakyoung who have broken their little scuffle. “Before we start”, you poke Xinyu on the shoulder, “order some pizza for us, sweetie. We can get your favorite”. Xinyu runs back to the bedroom to get her phone and order her favorite pizza—food is truly the bullet train to her heart (and pants but we’ll save that for later). She high-steps her way to the table to join you, seemingly excited at the prospect of having her favorite pizza. She stops next to you and pecks you on the cheek, “I love you”, she says. “I love you more, sweetie. Sit, please”, you pull a chair for her. Nakyoung sighs, “I know you just joined us, unnie, but I guarantee that you’ll get tired of seeing these two act like this very soon”. “Oh, uh, I personally find it cute, actually. I’m happy for them; I hope I can experience that myself one day”, Yooyeon confesses before looking away.

“It’s nothing crazy, really”, Yooyeon starts, “I was just curious about your council’s plans to welcome the new members of your own. I-I was thinking maybe I discuss it if that’s okay with you guys”. Xinyu gets excited hearing those words, “of course, unnie. We would love that”. “Can you tell me a summary first?”, Yooyeon says. You tell her how you and Xinyu plan to do a 3-day trip to the nearby island that also happens to be a famous tourism destination. Nakyoung helps explain the schedule and agendas that she and another council member have come up with. Lastly, Xinyu explains other details such as logistics, methods of transportation, and accommodation; “we are prohibiting alcohol for this trip, by the way. The last thing we need is some drunk freshmen fucking things up”, she adds. “How do you plan to do that, exactly?”, Yooyeon inquires. “Well, I called the manager of the accomodation and specifically and precisely asked them to not sell anyone from our group alcohol and to notify ask should someone try”, Xinyu explains.

Yooyeon gets up from her seat and asks for your permission to get water, so you tell her to get some from the dispenser in the kitchen. She then gets back in her seat and starts talking again. “So, president, vice president, and—what are you again?”, Yooyeon turns to Nakyoung, who lets out a frustrated grunt, “Oh, God damn it—I’m the secretary and the third wheel to the president and vice president. Remember that, please”. “Right, sorry”, Yooyeon clears her throat, “The reason I wanted to talk to you guys is because I have some potential candidates that might be able to join you guys in the council at the university level”. “Okay, go on”, you encourage her to keep talking. “They initially wanted to join us at the faculty, but we couldn’t accept them simply because we were full. I was thinking that maybe these two can thrive under your flag instead”. “Names, unnie?”, Nakyoung asks as she pulls out her phone to write their names. “Seo Dahyun, born in ‘03, and Kim Chaeyeon, born in ‘04”, Yooyeon says, “Dahyun had to retake the SAT for the second time; that’s why it took her a bit longer to get here, but that fact doesn’t take anything away from her, I assure you”.

Yooyeon obviously knows these people better than anyone in the room, since she knows them and has interviewed them personally, so the three of you decide to trust her perception of them. Xinyu arranges an interview for each of them tomorrow at noon—no precise time yet since you’ll need to confirm their schedules with each of them. Yooyeon gives Nakyoung their numbers and she starts hitting them up on CocoaSpeak. “One more thing, Jisung-ah”, she looks at you, “I want to be in the room where it happens”. “Sure, you can be there with us for the interview”, you say to her. “Won’t that be too intimidating?”, Xinyu utters her concern. Yooyeon shakes her head in disagreement, “these two don’t get intimidated easily, they’ll be fine��.

You hear a buzz from the door, so you ask Xinyu to get the pizza from the delivery guy. You make sure to pay attention to the exchange because Xinyu has had a bad experience with a degenerate delivery guy who thought that she was attractive and decided to take his 1-in-a-billion chance. You understand that you can take the pizza yourself but letting her do it helps Xinyu overcome her trauma as she knows that you have her back. Xinyu slams the door a bit too roughly and runs back towards the dining table. “I present to you, the Zhou Xinyu Special!”, she opens the box and puts it down on the table. Yooyeon keeps staring at the large pizza on the table in confusion, until Nakyoung notices and pokes her in the arm to get her attention, “it’s a pizza with ground beef, pepperoni, mushroom, and extra cheese, unnie—they use a lot of cheese, hence the pie-like visual”. “Ah, I see”, Yooyeon nods after hearing the explanation.

You take a slice from the box and start eating, followed by the three girls. “I’ve eaten this pizza so often, but it still amazes me every time. You really know your way around food, don’t you, Xinyu-yah?”, Nakyoung remarks. “Of course, food is the second thing I love the most in this world after oppa”, Xinyu says before exclaiming at the taste of her favorite pizza. “I love you too”, you wipe your mouth with a napkin before pecking Xinyu on the cheek. Xinyu blushes after hearing your words and receiving a peck, as she tries to hide her face behind the slice of pizza in her hand. “You two are so cute”, Yooyeon comments, not helping Xinyu overcome the heat on her cheeks.

The four of you start talking about a bunch of topics, from how Yooyeon initially wanted to join the university’s council but got rejected, how Nakyoung met Yooyeon for the first time and thought that she was a cold and scary person, and, at Yooyeon’s request, how you and Xinyu started dating. You explain that you had known Xinyu for a while as a fellow member of the council during freshman year but only admired her from afar. The two of you were then placed in the same group for a community service project the president at the time had come up with. “Xinyu was crying alone after the first day because of how exhausting and hard it was, so I mustered up the courage to approach her and offered to take her to dinner because I always hate seeing a girl cry, no matter what reason she might have. I actually was so scared that she would push me away instead of taking my offer”, you explain to the small crowd in front of you. It’s now Xinyu’s time to tell her side of the story; “I saw how kind oppa really is behind his rich guy façade; he was super helpful and attentive to everyone that day and there was no way I would’ve pushed him away—I wanted him for myself”. Xinyu leans against your shoulder before continuing her speech, “After our first time having sex, he revealed that I was his first and all I could think about was how I hoped he had been my first as well—I’m so sorry, oppa”. You squeeze her hand, “there’s nothing to be sorry for, love. You’re here with me now”.

Everyone has dispersed from the dining table and is now in their own worlds. Yooyeon is looking at notes on her tablet, Nakyoung is lying on the sofa with her eyes closed, Xinyu is chilling in the bedroom, and you’re sitting on the toilet with your phone in hand. You’re mindlessly scrolling through social media until you see a notification from Xinyu. It’s a picture of her lying in bed in her pajamas with one of the dolls you bought for her. “How cute”, you think to yourself. She sees that you’re not replying to her, so she expresses her unhappiness, “>: say something already”. “I’m busy, bby”, you reply to her before flushing the toilet and cleaning your ass. You’re on your way to the bathroom door as it swings open seemingly on its own. Xinyu barges into the bathroom and locks the door behind her. She puts her hands on your chest and pushes you to the wall, “if you won’t give me the attention I want, I’ll get it myself”. She pulls your shorts and boxers down together as she kneels in front of you, making your cock spring out of its restraints instantly.

“We could’ve done so much more had you given me the attention I wanted”, she’s doing her best to instill regret and guilt in your heart. Her hand is wrapped around your cock tightly and you don’t want to make her mad even more because you don’t want her to break your cock. “P-princess, they’re still here. We can do this later”, you persuade her. “I don’t care, they can go suck cock if they want”, she says before taking you in her mouth. The wetness and warmth of Xinyu’s mouth sends shivers down your spine. You dare hold her hair in your hand as she bobs her head up and down your shaft while gagging every now and then. “P-princess”, you mutter before moaning, “you’re so good, baby”. She instantly removes you from her mouth and squeezes your cock, “stay quiet if you want to make it out of this alive”. “Oh, fuck—I’m-I’m sorry, please don’t break my penis”, you say to the angry-but-horny girl kneeling in front of you.

She accepts your apology for now and gets back to stuffing her face with your cock. You don’t want to upset her considering how vulnerable you are at the moment, so you do nothing but moan. She removes your cock from her mouth once again when she feels it twitch in her mouth, “I’ll let you cum if you ask nicely”. You take a deep breath before ‘asking nicely’, “please let me cum, princess”. “Not good enough, but I’ll take it for now”, she says before letting you in her mouth once again. It doesn’t take long until your cum is accumulated on the tip of your cock. Xinyu knows this, so she goes deeper until she reaches the base of your cock. “I’m cum-ming”, you say with heavy breaths, “princess, please”. Your cock blows a load as soon as you say that, and Xinyu tries her best to not let a drop leak out of her mouth.

You lean back against the wall to catch your breath, feeling drained—quite literally—by Xinyu’s little stunt. You look down at Xinyu who is still on her knees, and you see her gulp down your load into her stomach. “Xinyu, baby”, you say with heavy pants, “thank you, that was really good”. “Of course, oppa. I love you—I’ll drain your soul the next time you ignore me, though”, she rises to her feet and wipes her mouth before pecking your cheek. “Now how do we get out of this place?”, you ask her for ideas. “Just walk out, we’re adults”, she shrugs. You do as she suggested and walk out of the bathroom as casually as possible. Yooyeon sees the two of you walking out together and covers her face with some papers. You see Xinyu give her a wink and gesture to her to stay quiet.

Xinyu then walks to the sofa and poke Nakyoung in the arm, “Naky-yah, are you staying the night or what?”. Nakyoung wakes up slowly from her peaceful nap on your sofa, “hngh, what time is it?”. You look at the clock above the TV, “about 7.30 pm”, you tell the sleepy cat. Nakyoung rises and walks to the fridge like a zombie, “I’m tempted to stay but I imagine you two want some private time”, she says. You can tell that her playfulness hasn’t returned to her entirely, as shown by how she hasn’t bantered or teased anyone yet. She takes a few gulps of fridge-cold water out of her bottle—she visits your apartment a lot so a few months ago she decided to leave a bottle in your fridge so that she wouldn’t drink from one of yours—and turns to you, “did you guys have fun when I was asleep?”. Xinyu answers her right away with confidence, “I did—I don’t know about oppa, though”, she says, hinting at sex. Nakyoung smirks as she walks back to the sofa, “if you had fun, then so did oppa, most likely”.

Nakyoung spends another 30 minutes lying on your sofa while on her phone, while Yooyeon is still busy with studying. “Unnie, I think we should leave soon”, she says to the studying goddess as she gets up. “Hm? Oh, yeah, sure”, Yooyeon says as she starts tidying up her papers and tablet. Nakyoung takes Yooyeon’s hand and walks to the door with her. “Thank you for the hospitality, you two”, Yooyeon bows slightly and waves at you and Xinyu. “You should hang out with us more, Yooyeon-ah. See you at the interview— byeee”, you say as they exit the door and close it behind them.

Seeing that the coast is now clear, Xinyu runs to you and jumps at you, so you catch her with both arms. “I’m tired, oppa. Take me to bed, please”, she says with a cute whiny voice. You peck her temple and carry her to the bed as requested. You set Xinyu on the bed with you on top of her body, and she immediately wraps her long limbs around your body. “Stay, please”, she says, acting cute to convince you to do what she wants, “I can feel you poking me down there, by the way”. It’s not that you’re horny, it’s just that you’re long—almost too long, “I’m sorry, sweetie”. “I’m horny and tired at the same time, which one do I choose, oppa?”, she pinches your cheek playfully. “I suggest sleeping, love. I don’t know if I have another load for you and I would hate to disappoint”, you kiss her forehead apologetically. “Hmph you’re no fun, oppa, but I love you so I’ll listen to you”, Xinyu pouts and lets you go from her strangling limbs.

It is now Friday. You and the usual suspects will be interviewing the candidates that Yooyeon told you about a few days ago. Nakyoung gave each candidate freedom to choose the place of the interview, and they both chose the multipurpose meeting room in the library building, so now you and Xinyu make your way to the appointed place—one problem, though: there’s quite a commotion in front of the meeting room. “You’re holding an interview, aren’t you? I know you are. Why aren’t you letting me in?”, the guy is shouting at Nakyoung who’s holding the line at the door. You see that Nakyoung is in deep distress, but you want to observe the situation a little bit more before jumping in. That is when you see the guy lay his hands on Nakyoung, which you’re not a fan of—Xinyu’s friends are your friends, and you’re not letting harm come their way. “Listen to her and just leave, man. We’ll pretend this never happened”, you say with a serious voice and grab him by the shoulder.

Surprisingly, the guy thinks that it’s a good idea to get violent and punches you in the face as he turns around, “SHUT THE FUCK UP”, he yells out. Nothing could’ve prepared you for a punch in the face, so you took a few steps back in surprise. Xinyu rushes to your aid in panic while screaming, “oh my God, oppa! Oppa, are you okay? Somebody, get security!”. “Holy shit, you’re so fucked”, Nakyoung says to the guy, who only now figured out who he just punched, “out of all the people present, you chose to punch the president—absolutely incredible. You still expect us to accept you after seeing you act like this? We will make your life miserable for this, by the way; we don’t forget”. The guy approaches you slowly in fear, “I-I’m so sorry, sunbaenim, I don’t know what got into me. Are you okay?”. You sigh in disappointment, not because you just took a punch in the face, but because someone thought it was okay to be violent, especially on campus grounds. “I suggest finding a lawyer”, you say, angriness obvious in your voice. He kneels and bows in front of you to beg for forgiveness, “no, no, please. I’m so sorry. I’ve learned my lesson, sunbaenim, please”. You hear the boots of the security guards approaching, so you say your last piece to the brat, “you have not, but you will soon”.

Once you see that the security guards have control of the situation, you leave the scene and forcefully drag Xinyu and Nakyoung by their wrists into the room. “Op-oppa, you’re hurting me; please let go”, Nakyoung tries to pry your fingers off her wrist. You didn’t realize that you were holding their hands so tightly, so you let them go and apologize. “Thank you for saving me, guys”, Nakyoung sobs as she hugs Xinyu for comfort, “he-he was so adamant, and I got so scared”. “I’m glad he decided to punch me and not one of you”, you sigh, “where is Yooyeon, by the way?”. “I’m here”, Yooyeon says as she closes the door behind her, “what just happened? Why are there security guards?”. “Someone thought it was a good idea to punch Jisung-oppa”, Xinyu explains to the confused girl. Yooyeon shakes her head and sighs, “are you okay, Jisung-ah?”. You rub the spot where the punch landed and reply to her, “I’ll be fine—it hurts, though”.

You take a few minutes to catch your breath and process everything that just happened while Xinyu, Yooyeon, and Nakyoung brief each other about the upcoming interview. You soon hear some knocks on the door and a girl peeks into the room, “excuse me, we’re here for the interview”. “Oh, hello, you guys must be Dahyun and Chaeyeon”, Nakyoung greets them and lets them in. Dahyun gasps in surprise when she sees your face, “oh God, what happened to you, sunbaenim? Why is there a bruise on your face?”. “We can talk about that as we go. Please, have a seat and stop calling me and everyone else in this room ‘sunbaenim’. We’ll interview you guys at the same time, I hope that’s okay”, you gesture to the empty chairs on the round table, and they take a seat in them. “So, there’s something I need to explain before we start”, you start the conversation, “you guys are here because Governor Kim over here recommended that you be considered to be recruited into the university council because her faculty council is full”. They turn to Yooyeon and express their appreciation to her, which makes Yooyeon smile in shyness.

You take the first turn to ask them a bunch of questions, from what makes them interested in joining the council, what they think the council should be for students and the surrounding community, and if they’ll interested in becoming the president in the future. They answer each question with some of the best answers you’ve ever heard in your term as president, and you can tell that everyone in the room is impressed and is starting to like them. Xinyu and Nakyoung then take turns asking them questions of their own while Yooyeon opts to observe and listen in silence.

Once they’re done asking questions and getting answers, it’s the recruits’ turn to ask questions. Dahyun kicks off the session by asking you about your wound, “can I ask what happened to your face, oppa?”. “You can, Dahyun-ah”, you sigh, “someone punched me in the face after screaming at Nakyoung-ie because she didn’t let him join the interview—disappointing behavior, if you ask me”. Xinyu moves to you in her chair and grabs your hand, “are you actually pressing charges, oppa? I would love it if you did—no one gets to punch my boyfriend like that”. “He’s your boyfriend, unnie?”, Chaeyeon asks the vice president. Xinyu brings a palm to her forehead, “oh, right, I forgot that you’re not in our circle yet—yes, he is, and I love him and I hate seeing him get hurt. We’ll go get some ointment after this, oppa, okay?”. “The president and vice president are dating, unnie. Are we in a drama right now?”, Chaeyeon turns to Dahyun, who lets out a giggle.

The six of you spend more time getting to know each other better as individuals, and you can tell again that everyone is really interested in having them join the council and this small circle of yours. Nakyoung explicitly tells them about it; “I know we only met today but I know that everyone here likes the two of you, so I sincerely ask you to consider joining our little friend group once you’re formally accepted as members of the council. Your cute little governor here is also with us, by the way”, she says—the way she’s saying it makes it sound like it’s a circle of nepotism with leading figures of the council and a bunch of new recruits. Dahyun shyly accepts the invitation, “we would love that, unnie. Thank you for being so kind to juniors like us”.

The interview is now done, and you find yourself surrounded by 5 girls outside the library. “Oppa, I’m hungry. Can we get lunch?”, Xinyu tugs your hand. “We can, sweetie. Wanna invite the others as well?”, you reply to her. Xinyu turns to the others, “guys, we’re gonna go get lunch, wanna join us?”. Nakyoung and Yooyeon obviously nod in agreement, but Dahyun and Chaeyeon are hesitant. “You two can join us as well, no need to be shy. We’re your friends, just a bit older in age”, you say to them. Chaeyeon answers for herself and Dahyun, “we would love that, oppa, if that’s okay with you”. Nakyoung pinches Chaeyeon’s cheeks playfully, “we’re friends, God damn it. Start acting accordingly, will you?”. You lead them to your car that’s parked in the campus’ parking lot—the parking lot is not as packed on Fridays since the professors are usually doing other stuff off campus, and you managed to find one because you arrived early. Chaeyeon makes a comment when she sees your car, “OF COURSE HE’S RICH—oh my God, I’m so sorry, oppa”. You chuckle at her comment, “it’s okay, I’ve heard that a lot before. Come on, let’s get in”.

You find yourself sailing the slow sea of Friday afternoon traffic, thankfully it’s not as bad as usual. “Does anyone have any idea where we should go?”, you ask the crowd in your car. Dahyun raises her hands after mustering up as much confidence as she can, “can we go get burgers, oppa? There’s a good burger shop nearby—if-if everyone else agrees, that is”. Xinyu is the most excited one at the prospect, “we sure can, I looove burgers. Drive faster, oppa!”. You laugh at her words, “just admit that you love everything, sweetie”.

Dahyun wasn’t lying when she said it was near, as you are now parked in front of an alleyway where the burger shop is. “We’ve been students for so long, but we’ve never heard about this shop once”, you remark. Dahyun shyly confesses to the group, “Th-this place is my parents’, oppa. I-I wanted to promote my parents’ business since they only opened recently, I’m sorry”. Xinyu rushes to hug Dahyun from the side, “awww, how cute. You’re such a good daughter, Dahyun-ah”. Dahyun hides her face behind her palms before replying to Xinyu, “you’re so kind, unnie”. “Now you know why people fall for her, Dahyun-ah”, you say, bragging about your lovely girlfriend to your new friend.

Dahyun leads you into the shop and runs towards the cashier to hug the lady attending it. “Everyone, this is my mom, you can call her Mrs. Seo—duh. Mom, this the council’s president, vice president, secretary, and governor—obviously you know Chaeyeon already. We just became friends today”, she introduces everyone to her mom by pointing at you one by one. “Aigoo, you brought your friends, Dahyun-ah? Welcome, kids—oh my God, what happened to your face? Also, you don’t need to pay today since you’re Dahyun’s friends”, Dahyun’s mom says to your group. You don’t want to not pay, considering how much your friends eat and the fact that your friend’s parents own the place; “It’s a bit of a long story, madam. We would hate to not pay; we eat a lot, you see”, you try to convince her mom. “Okay but promise us you’ll come back. Now what can I get for you?”, Mrs. Seo asks you. You turn to Dahyun, who most likely knows what’s best here, “you have any recommendations, Dahyun-ah?”. “I mean, I think everything is good but I’m very biased”, she giggles.

Since this is your first time here, you decide to choose whatever catches your fancy, which happens to be a double cheeseburger with portobella mushroom and beef bacon. Everyone else then takes turns to order before leaving to find a place to sit together. Mrs. Seo tells you to join two tables together since they only have 4 chairs each, so you do as she says. While you wait, you decide to talk with your friends—you know, like friends do.

It takes about 20 minutes for the food to come out, not bad at all considering how big of an order it was. Mrs. Seo calls out to Dahyun to help carry the food to your table, so she stands up and heads to the kitchen to help. You see the visuals of each thing on the trays, and you can’t help but drool at the sight. “Holy sh—excuse my language—that looks so good!”, Nakyoung shows her enthusiasm to the food. You see that Yooyeon, who usually shows little emotions, has an excited face as well, and it brings joy to Mrs. Seo. “You are such sweet kids. I’m glad Dahyun can be friends with you”, she says. “The pleasure is ours, madam. Dahyun is such a sweet girl as well”, Xinyu says.

Dahyun and her mom set the trays on the table, and everyone jumps to get their stuff right away. Nakyoung is the first to take a bite, and she exclaims in excitement immediately, “oh my God, this is incredible—Mrs. Seo, this is amazing!”. “Omo, I’m so glad you like it”, she says before putting a big squeeze bottle on the table, “try this with the fries, will you? We’ve been developing a sauce recipe and would love to hear some feedback—Chaeyeon-ie has tried this before so she knows already”. Xinyu squeezes the sauce on a piece of fry and shoves it in her mouth, “oh my, that is glorious. What sauce is this, Mrs. Seo? Oppa, try this, quick!”. You take the bottle from Xinyu’s hands and do the same thing she did, and you instantly let out a satisfied groan thanks to the taste. “it’s minced garlic, chives, and white pepper mixed with mayonnaise and a little bit of my husband’s hot sauce—you know, you two look so cute together; have you considered dating?”, she explains. “They are indeed dating, madam”, Nakyoung answers for you with a laugh like the spokesperson that she often is. Mrs. Seo gasps, “oh, that’s so cute. Alright, I’m gonna stop bothering you guys—enjoy!”.

No one says anything for the rest of the meal as they savor every glorious bite of their food, letting out excited yelps and satisfied groans at the incredible taste. “Dahyun-ah”, you say after swallowing a bite, “would your parents be interested in getting some investment?”. “Look at him, flexing his wealth in front of his junior”, Nakyoung says. Dahyun’s eyes widen at your unexpected question, “I-I’ll need to ask my parents”, she says. “Can you please ask now? I’m curious what they’d say”, you push further. Dahyun sips her drink before running to the cashier and dragging his mom back to the table. “Mom, mom, president-oppa wants to invest in us!”, Dahyun excitedly says to her mom. Mrs. Seo’s turns her head to you in surprise, “do you actually?”. “I do, madam”, you say, as humble sounding as possible, “I think you can do great things with this business, hence my interest”. “I, I”, you see tears gathering in Mrs. Seo’s eyes, “thank you for the kind words, son. Yes, we would love to get an investment—what are the terms, though?”. “My family’s treasurer will reach out to your family in less than 7 business days, madam. You can discuss the terms with her—I’ll make sure it’s more favorable to you than me”, you say to her. “Please stand up, son”, Mrs. Seo says to you, so you do as she says. She hugs you warmly as she’s shedding (you hope) happy tears, “thank you so much, son; it means a lot to our family. How rich are you that your family has a treasurer, though?”. You answer her question with the answer your parents have taught you since you were a kid, “we are comfortable, madam”. She lets go of the hug and wipes her eyes, “I gotta call my husband; this is crazy! Dahyun-ah, isn’t this crazy?”. Dahyun bows to you, “thank you so much, oppa. We won’t forget your kindness”. You’re surprised to see her bow to you, so you grab her shoulders and make her straighten her back, “oh, c’mon, there’s no need to act like that”.

You excuse yourself and head to the back alley behind the shop to call your family’s treasurer, Mrs. Kwon Yuri. She picks up immediately after one ring, “Good afternoon, Mr. Jung. Can I help you?”. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Kwon”, you greet her, “I’m planning to make an investment in a burger shop owned by my friend’s family. Can you please handle it for me? I’ll send you their number after this”. Mrs. Kwon stays silent for a few seconds, but you hear her keyboard clacking over the phone, “I can, Mr. Jung; I will reach out to them in two days”. You feel a wave of relief in your heart, “sounds great, Mrs. Kwon. Be sure to make it favorable for them, please—5 or 10 percent is fine. Thanks for the help”. You send her their number after hanging up and with it, your investment will soon be confirmed, and they’ll get a small boost to grow their business.

Unbeknownst to you, Xinyu has been hiding around the corner waiting for you to end the call. She runs to you when she hears you hang up the phone and hugs you tightly. “My God, that is so sexy, oppa”, she says. “What is, baby?”, you say, unsure about what she’s referring to. “The fact that you’re willing to use your money to help someone else. I know it’s probably spare change for you but it’s still meaningful”, she looks at you straight in the eyes as her hands are on each side of your head. ”I was just trying to help, it’s not like they don’t deserve it—I mean, you know how good their stuff is”, you tell her. “Oh, I know, but you know what else is good?”, she smiles at you. “No?”, you say, oblivious. “My boyfriend’s lips on mine”, she says before pressing her lips against yours. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like kissing Xinyu but kissing her in broad daylight in a back alley feels scandalous. You let your lips stay pressed against Xinyu’s for what feels like a few seconds before you push her away. “Baby, we can’t afford to get caught”, you bargain. “You’re right”, she sighs, “we’ll continue this later”.

You take her hand and enter the shop again. You see Dahyun and her mom crying while a man, who you assume is Mr. Seo, tries to calm them down. Dahyun then points a finger to you and the man walks up to you and reaches his hand out to shake yours. “You must be Jung Jisung”, the man says, “I’m Dahyun’s dad. Thank you so much for your help, son. It means a lot to us”. You’re surprised by how Dahyun’s family is reacting to your little feat, “I-I just wanted to help, sir. My friends and I really like the products your family is selling here”. Mr. Seo pulls you into a hug and you see that Nakyoung and Chaeyeon are leaning against Yooyeon’s shoulders on each side while sobbing. “What is happening, man?”, you think to yourself. Mr. Seo lets you go after a few seconds and shakes your hand one more time; “I need to go; I have two ladies to attend to”, he says, referring to his wife and daughter who are still weeping.

You sit down at the table again and ask your friends about what happened when you were away for that short a time. “They-they told us how hard it was to start this business, oppa”, Nakyoung holds back a sob before continuing, “they-they had to take a bunch of loans and barely had customers at the start—our tab today is one of the biggest ones they’ve had so far. Dahyun even had to do several part-time jobs to help her family’s economy”. Chaeyeon is making it obvious that she’s the most sensitive person in the friend group, as she cries even more after hearing Nakyoung’s summary of what has just happened. “They were over the moon when you said you were going to invest, and now the emotions have finally caught up to them”, Yooyeon says before wiping her eyes with a napkin. You realize that this is what your parents have been preaching for your whole life: to be able to help someone with what you have—especially money—no matter how big or small it is. You silently praise your parents and pray to whatever celestial being is up there for their health and safety.

You wait until everyone has calmed down before walking to the cashier to pick up the tab. “Ji-Jisung-ah”, Mrs. Seo’s emotions are still high as she keeps sobbing after all this time, “are you 100% sure you’re going to invest in us?”. “I am sure, madam. I’ve called the treasurer; she’ll reach out in two days. It’s the least I can do to help, madam”. Mrs. Seo opens her arms and hugs you, “thank you, son; thank you so much”. You close your eyes and savor the genuine emotions she’s showing you, “the pleasure is mine, madam; believe me”. She lets go and fiddles with the computer in front of her, “since you insisted on paying, everything will be ₩50.000 and I’m giving you a 10% discount—so what is that, then?”. Your eyes widen in surprise when you hear her words, “wait, no, no, no. Please, there’s no need for that”. You argue back and forth with Mrs. Seo until she agrees not to give you a discount. You hand her two ₩50.000 banknotes and tell her to keep the rest, which makes her bawl her eyes out again. You’re starting to feel terrible for making these people cry so much today, so you awkwardly walk back to the table so that you can get your friends to leave with you.

Everyone stands up when they’re finally ready to leave and file out of the door one by one except for Dahyun. Before it’s your turn to leave, Mr. Seo pulls you to the side and hugs you one more time. “Thank you for everything, Jisung-ah”, Mr. Seo says to your ear, “I would offer you my Dahyun but I was told that you have a girlfriend already”. Your eyes widen in shock, “That won’t be necessary ever, Mr. Seo. I don’t even know if Dahyun likes me like that—also she’s not anyone’s property, respectfully”, you whisper in his ear. He lets go of you and shakes your hand softly, so you reciprocate his gesture and do the same. “Oppa”, Dahyun calls out to you, “thank you so much for everything, seriously. I promise I’ll do my best in the council; I’ll do whatever you guys ask me to”. You smile at her, “I know you will, Dahyun-ah. I can tell that you’re a hardworking person as well”. Dahyun looks at the door and makes sure that the coast is clear before hugging you. “I know you have Xinyu-unnie but please let me have this for now”, she then gets on her tippy toes and pecks your cheek, which makes the two of you blush at the same time. “Thank you, Dahyun-ah. I wish you and everyone health and safety. See you soon, okay?”, you make to leave the restaurant and catch up with your friends.

You get back in the car and start driving again; everyone except Xinyu (obviously) asks you to take them back to campus, so you do as they ask and take them back there. They get off at the campus gate and wave at you as you leave, and now you’re left alone with Xinyu. “Let’s go home, oppa”, she says before reaching over and palming your cock, “I’m so fucking horny, oppa—if you hadn’t stopped me back in the alley, I would’ve got on my knees and sucked your cock”. You can feel your cock getting hard and your patience running thin, so you take a deep breath before replying to Xinyu, “patience, princess; we’ll get home before you know it”. You hope that your words were good enough to convince her to be patient, but they apparently weren’t, as she keeps palming your cock the rest of the way home.

You make it back to the parking lot of your building again. You stand next to the car and wait for Xinyu to get off. Instead of taking her hand and walk side by side, you lift her by her thighs and carry her to your destination. “You’re not getting away with being such a brat—you wanna palm my cock because you’re horny? Fine, I’ll show you horny”, you whisper aggressively in her ear. “You’re gonna make me pay, daddy?”, she whispers back, her voice laced with lust. You rush to your apartment and enter the bedroom straight away. Your lust-controlled brain doesn’t want to play nice, as it makes you drop Xinyu on the bed not-too-softly. Xinyu bites her bottom lip; “I like it when you’re rough”, she says, trying to rile you up more. You want to talk dirty with her, but you’re given another idea instead; “let’s make a deal: if you can make it through this session without cumming, I’ll buy you whatever you want—including Dahyun’s restaurant. Now pick a fucking safe word”. You take off everything you have on your body in front of her, and she bites her lip again, “Oh please, just who exactly do you think I am? Just come and punish me, daddy; use me, stretch me, choke me, cum in me—do whatever pleases you and I’ll take it like a good girl, because I am one”.

You pull her off the bed and onto her feet; “strip”, you command. “Yes, daddy” is her reply; short, but laden with obedience. She takes her sweet time to take off each thing and tries putting on a show for you, but since you’re now thinking with your cock and not your brain, you’re getting impatient; “I told you to strip, princess, not to take off your clothes”, you say as you palm her neck and squeeze it slightly while glaring right into her eyes—she’s taller than most people but you still tower over her (shoutout to dad for his genes). You see that she’s starting to get intimidated but still has her strong girl façade on, “hngh—patience, daddy, plea-please”. You let her neck go and she takes the rest of her clothes seemingly nervously, as seen by how her hands shake as she’s doing it. Xinyu gets back in bed when nothing is on her body, now ready to start the session. As much as you’re horny and rough, you’re never one to act without consent, so you ask the seemingly scared girl in your bed, “are you okay? Was I too mean? Do you want to keep going?”. “N-no, you’re okay—I’m okay”, she takes a deep breath and welcomes you to bed.

You get on top of her and start sucking and nibbling her neck, marking it with your lips as she moans and sighs at the contact. “You love marking me, right, daddy?”, she eggs you on, “you like showing people who I belong to, don’t you?”. You leave her neck when you see that it has a red spot on the side, knowing that it will turn into a decently sized hickey tomorrow, “Uh-huh; they’ll know if they haven’t already”, you say to her, “if you cover it with makeup, I will make you sleep on the sofa for a month”. She pleas her case, “but what if my professors see it?”. You shrug, “we’re adults—your words, not mine. Now stay still, I have things to do”.

You move to her breasts, putting one in your mouth while fondling the other. Xinyu has always been sensitive there, so you know it’ll be plenty of stimulation for her. “Daddy”, she sighs, “why do you like my breasts so much?”. You lift your mouth off so you can reply to her; “because they fit in my hands so well”, you palm a breast; a perfect handful in your hand, “can you feel how perfect it is in my hand?”. Xinyu nods to your question, “ye-yes, daddy; they’re perfect for you, just like the rest of my body”. “Good answer, princess—you should be able to feel this as well”, you pinch a nipple and tug, making Xinyu scream instantly, “oh, fuck, fuck—the-they’re sensitive, daddy”. You chuckle, “I know they are, but you’re mine to play with”.

You play with her tits a bit more before moving on. You opt to skip her tummy (no matter how firm and soft it looks) and go straight to her pussy. “Open your legs, princess”, you command her, and she instantly spread her long legs enough for you to fit your head between them. “I-I hope you like what you see”, she says with a blush on her cheeks. Honestly, how can you not like the sight despite having seen it a lot—her perfectly pink and glistening pussy is making you drool, literally. You dive into her pussy right away; your tongue is pressed against her entrance, threatening to invade it while your index finger is on her nub. Xinyu starts moaning and squirming around as you start licking her pussy, so you hold down her thighs so that you don’t miss your target. “Remember to hold your cum”, you remind the moaning girl. Her heavy breathing makes it hard for her to verbally answer you, so she just nods to your say.

“Op-oppa”, she calls out with heavy pants, “you-you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that”. You lift your face off her crotch and look at her in disbelief, “is that supposed to be a threat? You dare threat me, you slut? That’s the wrong name too, by the way”. Xinyu panics, “no-no, daddy; I would never—oh, fuck—I would never threaten you, I swear”. You plunge two fingers into her pussy, “that’s what I thought”. “Oh, fuck—daddy, please”, she lets out whiny moans. You know that she’s doing her best to hold off her orgasm, and you praise her for her efforts; even good girls have their limits, and hers is very close. You keep fucking her with your fingers until you feel her pussy squeeze them, indicating that she’s having her orgasm soon. True enough, she screams from the top of her lungs after a few seconds, “I’M-I’M CUMMING, FUCK!”. You pull your fingers out as she squirts her juices out and stroke her thighs to help her calm down. It takes a few minutes of moaning and whining until her mind is cleared and her high is dissipated. “You came”, you say with a fake disappointed voice. Realization of what just happened slaps her in the face, “I’m so sorry, daddy; please don’t punish me, I beg you. I-I’ll give you my mouth, I’ll give you my asshole—anything you want. Just don’t punish me, please”. “There’s no way she’s offering you her ass”, your brain says, “she’s never trained for it, has she? She’ll never be able to take your cock there—don’t take it, son”.

You decide to keep her in the dark and not tell her that you’re not getting in her ass because you’re naughty like that. “On your stomach, princess”, you command her, and you see that she’s nervous because she’s clueless as to what you have in mind. “I’m so dead; we’ve never trained my ass before and he’s getting in there—this is why you don’t run your mouth, Zhou Xinyu”, Xinyu thinks to herself. She gets even more scared when you lift her ass but not the rest of her body. You make her think that you’re going in her ass by asking her to spread her cheeks. Xinyu’s fear peaks when you put your thumb on her asshole and slather spit on it—she even sheds a tear because she’s that scared. “Look at it”, you say, “that must be so tight and snug”. “I guess this is how I die”, she thinks as more tears are released from her eyes, “he’s going in there dry, too—fuck, this will hurt like a bitch”. You remove your thumb and announce to her that you’re going in, so she closes her eyes and braces for the pain. To her surprise, you decide to plunge into her pussy instead, so Xinyu lets out a loud moan immediately; “oh, God, daddy, yes, yes—I’m your good girl, daddy”. A wave of relief washes over Xinyu; “he’s not getting in my ass!”, she thinks to herself.

You lean forward and whisper in Xinyu’s ear, “you thought I was gonna take your ass, didn’t you, princess?”. She moans before answering you, “ye-yes, daddy. I-I was so scared”. You laugh at her; you’d think she would know by now that you’d never do anything without her explicit and clear consent, but here she is, scared shitless at the prospect of losing her anal virginity to you. “I might not be taking your ass today, but I’m taking your pussy”, you say before pulling her gloriously thick jet-black hair. “It’s yours, daddy—I’m yours; take me anytime you want—oh, fuck, that’s so fucking deep”, she replies. You press Xinyu’s head into the pillow, “I’m cumming in your pussy and I want you to keep it in”. You feel her nod against your hand, and you pick up the pace of your thrusts.

You keep pumping her pussy deep and fast, just like how you like it. Xinyu is holding the pillow under her head with all her might, her knuckles turning white thanks to how hard she’s gripping it. You feel your lust peaking, so you give her rougher thrusts as your crotch makes clapping sounds when it hits Xinyu’s cheeks. Xinyu is moaning and screaming your name away, as she feels the rough thrusts you’re giving her; “I’m gonna feel this tomorrow”, she says in her head. You can feel your orgasm approaching, so you get in a squatting position without pulling out and keep thrusting into her pussy with all your strength. Xinyu knows this as well, so she eggs you on, “keep stretching me like that, daddy—oh, fuck, you’re in my belly”.

You start feeling tired from fucking her in such position. Thankfully for you, you’re so close to cumming as well. “Princess”, you say with heavy breathing, “I’m so close”. She turns her head to see you over her shoulder, “yes, daddy; I’m so close as well—oh, fuck—please let me cum with you”. You’re reminded of her words a few days ago when you said you were close, and you decide to use it against her, “I’ll let you cum if you ask nicely”. She takes a deep breath so that she can ‘ask nicely’, “daddy, please, let me cum with you—I’m-I’m begging you, daddy”. Satisfied with her answer, you pet her head; “good job, princess”. To make sure that she indeed cums with you, you reach around her waist and rub her clit as you’re fucking her.

Your orgasm finally hits after some more thrusts. You plug your cock deep into her and start shooting your cum deep into Xinyu’s pussy; at the same time, Xinyu’s legs quiver thanks to her second orgasm—no squirting this time, unfortunately. You stand up on the bed after all your cum is released into her; “if you let it leak out, I’m taking your ass”, you threaten her falsely. You know that Xinyu lacks training, so unless she trains her ass, you’re not getting in there—unless she decides to act like a brat again. Xinyu doesn’t know that it was a fake threat, so she keeps her ass up to prevent your cum from leaking out while she tries her best to catch her breath.

You jump off the bed and leave to get water and towel, “be right back, princess”. When you return, she still has her ass up because at heart, she is very obedient and just wants to please her boyfriend as much as she can. “Daddy”, she calls out with teary eyes, “can-can I put my ass down now? I’m s-starting to get tired”. You feel a rush of guilt in your heart because she actually fell for the false threat; “you can, princess. Just relax, okay?”, you say as you guide her waist down by pressing down on the small of her back until she’s flat on the bed. “I’m gonna wipe your body with this towel, okay, princess?”. You see her nod, so you start wiping her body from her nape down to her legs, making sure not to miss a spot as you go. You roll her over onto her back to clean the other side of her body and that’s when you see the messy makeup on her face—solid proof that tears were running down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, princess”, you stroke her cheeks softly with your thumb, “I was so rough on you, wasn’t I?”. She sniffles before answering you, “you-you were, but it’s okay; nothing I’m not used to”. “Can I clean that makeup for you, or do you want to do it yourself?”, you ask her. She reaches out to grab the towel from your hands and wipe her face with it, “this should be enough”. She then returns the towel to you so you can clean the rest of her body.

“Honey”, you call out to her, “wanna shower or no?”. She sighs in exhaustion, “no, too tired—you can shower if you want”. You jump back in bed and lie next to her; “no, too tired”, you return her words. She gathers all her might and scoots over so that she can cuddle you; “I hope that was satisfactory”, she says. You peck her head, “of course it was. Thank you very much, love”. “I was so scared that you were going to fuck me in the ass, daddy”, she hasn’t dropped the name yet, “you know I’ve never trained my ass so I thought you were gonna take my anal virginity raw and dry—I mean sure, it’s only right that I give you that but I was super scared”. You stroke the back of her head softly, “we can talk about that later, sweetie—just know this: I would never do anything to you without your clear and explicit consent, so until I hear that you’re ready to take me in your ass, I’m not fucking you in the ass. I promise you that”.

She hums in understanding—you can tell that she’s grateful too—but is then reminded about the deal from earlier, “so I guess you’re not buying me whatever I want since I came?”. You let out a chuckle, “what do you want to get, sweetie?”. She blushes when she realizes that she didn’t lose the deal because of how sweet and kind you really are behind all those façades, “oh-oh, um, I-I wa-want burgers and fries from Dahyun’s place again, oppa”. You nod to her, “sure, love. We can go after this if you want”.

You and Xinyu get back in the car after regaining energy and showering, as you two are now on your way to Dahyun’s restaurant for the second time today. When you arrive, you see that Dahyun’s attending the cashier this time. She sees you two in front of the door and rushes to open it for you, “oppa, unnie, welcome back!”. “Hey, baby. Nice to see you again”, Xinyu hugs the girl in front of her. “We promised we would return so here we are”, you say to her. “Where are the others, though?”, Dahyun asks. “No idea; we just had sex at home and came here after cuddling and showering”, Xinyu utters oh-so-brazenly. “OH MY GOD! UNNIE!”, Dahyun covers her ears and runs away from the two of you. You palm your face, “I’m so sorry, Dahyun-ah; you didn’t need to hear all that”. Dahyun fans her cheeks with her hands to fight her blush, “oh my, how could you say that so casually—wh-what can I get for you guys this time?”. You pinch Xinyu’s cheek for her little shenanigan before turning to Dahyun and repeat your order from this afternoon; “oh, can we get 2 more fries and that sauce again? So 4 fries in total and the sauce”, you ask her. “Of course you can, oppa. Please wait at the table for your food”.

Dahyun brings a tray of food to you after about 15 minutes. She thinks that she can waltz away after that, so you call out to her, “where on God’s green earth do you think you’re going, Dahyun-ah?”. Surprised to hear you call her that way, she walks back to you your table awkwardly, “I-I’m sorry?”. “Why do you think we ordered 4 burgers?”, you point at the empty seat next to Xinyu, “have a seat with us. We can have a little chit-chat—you can get back to work if there’s another customer coming”. “Uwuwu, my baby”, Xinyu peppers Dahyun’s face with pecks. “I’m sorry, oppa, but is unnie always like this?”, Dahyun asks you. “No, only to people she likes”, you say with a smile, indicating to her that she’s one of those people.

No other customer ends up coming, so you have the entire restaurant to yourselves. “Dahyun-ah, would you be able to cater for the entire council? I would love to introduce your products to our staffs”, you say before shoving another piece of fry coated in sauce, “holy shit, that is glorious—you know what, we’ll pay for this bottle of sauce since we’re probably finishing this”. “Oppa”, she says with a soft voice, “you.. are you serious?”. You’re not sure what she’s talking about, “pardon?”. “Are you serious about asking us to cater for the council? That’d be, like, our biggest sales so far”, she says, tears threatening to burst out of her eyes for the second time today. “Let’s ask Xinyu what she thinks”, you point to the girl sitting next to Dahyun. “I agwee wif offa”, she says with a full mouth before swallowing her food, “ehm, excuse me—yes, I agree with oppa’s idea; we should introduce this to everyone. We’ll need the sauce as well, by the way”.

Dahyun sits in silence before covering her face to hide her tears; “oppa, unnie, why are you guys so kind to us? First it was the investment and now this?”, she says with trembling voice. Xinyu hugs the crying girl, “because we love you and we love your food, baby”. If Xinyu was calling another guy “baby”, you would flip out, but you don’t mind since it’s Dahyun. “I know that we sound like a broken record, but we genuinely love the food here. Can you give me an estimation as to when you think you’ll be able to do it?”, the way you say it makes you sound like your dad right now. Dahyun sniffles and gathers her mind to think of an answer, “um, probably in a few weeks; I need to talk with my parents, though”. “Very cool”, you clap your hands once, “we’ll be having a meeting with everyone in the council at the end of September. We’ll tell them to come with an empty stomach”.

You’re now ready to leave the restaurant after finishing your burgers, fries, and a whole bottle of sauce. “We’re gonna need to hit the gym this weekend”, you think to yourself. You’re standing in front of the cashier with Dahyun and Xinyu, and that’s when Xinyu excuses herself and runs to the toilet. Dahyun keeps her eyes on Xinyu until she disappears behind the toilet door and walks up to you slowly. You’re not too sure what she’s trying to do, so you opt to let things run their course for now. She wraps her arms around your nape and pulls you down for a kiss. As she’s kissing you, you can’t help but notice how soft her lips are. Dahyun then pulls away from the kiss after a few seconds; “I swear I’ll find a way to repay you, just wait—also, don’t think that I didn’t see your mark on unnie’s neck; sex with you must be amazing, oppa”, she says before taking a few steps back to avoid Xinyu’s suspicion. “You’re saying a lot of nonsense right now, darling”, you say in a quiet voice—that’s another pet name spilling out of your lips and Dahyun catches it right away. “Darling, hm? I like the sound of that, darling”, she winks at you and walks away. Perfect timing, really, because you see that Xinyu is opening the toilet door and about to walk out.

You close your eyes and put a palm on your forehead; “what is happening right now, man?”. Life is throwing another girl at you, and you’re not sure why because you already have a girlfriend—a lovely one at that. You take a deep breath before holding your girlfriend’s hand and leading her out of the door. You take a glance at Dahyun over your shoulder, and you see her wink at you once again. “I’m so fucking cooked”, you think to yourself.

#girl group smut #triples smut #kpop smut #smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader smut #male reader

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weirdkpopgirl · 7 months ago

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Stealing Kisses | Dream Reaction #14

Reaction: When their gf steals a kiss from them

Genre: Fluff, slight angst in some

Warnings: insecure thoughts, kinda suggestive, light making out in Jaemin's, kissing (obviously lol)

Word Count: ~3.1k

Author's Note: This idea came to me last week I think, and I thought it'd be fun to write. I think you guys like this type of stuff too lol. It was also nice to write something sweet and fluffy, a break from my recent stuff. Hope you all like it and thank you for reading ^ ^

P.S. I'm currently have a few fics I'm working on. But I'm going to try writing some shorter stories for the members and group things to fill up my second masterlist.

~ ~ ~

mark

The two of you were lying side by side on his bed, your gazes fixed on the ceiling. Mark was sharing his late-night thoughts, and you were listening attentively. Nights like these were a regular occurrence, mostly because Mark often had something weighing on his mind. Though it was usually just him recounting his busy day, tonight things seemed to carry a more serious tone.

“Sometimes, I’m just really not satisfied with myself,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Like so many people are relying on me— with the company, 127 and Dream. Then there are the fans too, I don’t want to fail them. But no matter how much time and energy I put in, it’s not enough.”

You carefully processed your boyfriend’s concerns, trying to put yourself in his shoes. It was so easy to say he was just overthinking and shouldn’t worry so much. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do so, given that you faced similar struggles. Those dismissive words weren’t what either of you needed to hear. Mark was undoubtedly the most hardworking person you knew, but you understood all too well the feeling of never quite doing enough.

Before speaking this time, you opted for a different approach of consolation. You shifted around to gently place your hand on his cheek, guiding his gaze towards you. With closed eyes, you leaned in to kiss him softly. Your lips moved slowly against his, hoping he could feel the comfort of your touch. Soon enough, Mark’s hand rested comfortably on your back, reciprocating the affection.

You stifled a light giggle as you pulled away, catching his slightly confused expression. Offering a small smile you used your thumb to caress his cheek reassuringly.

“You’re doing great, Mark,” you whispered sincerely. “You might not think so at times, but I’m always so proud of you.”

And it was those words that caused tears to gloss over Mark’s eyes. Then he was pulling you into a much-needed embrace, holding you tightly in his arms. You could feel the warmth of his smile as he mumbled, “Babe, I love you so much.”

Though you didn’t necessarily need to return the words for him to understand, you still said you loved him too. He deserved it, after all. He deserved every bit of love, understanding, and support. And you were more than willing to give it to him, wholeheartedly.

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renjun

You emerged from the kitchen, holding a plate of freshly cut mango in your hand. Renjun was sitting at the table, fully absorbed in the watercolor painting in front of him. Seeing him use the paint set you got for his birthday brought a smile to your face. He was so engrossed in the activity that he almost didn’t hear you sit in the empty chair beside him.

Renjun momentarily glanced up from his artwork to greet you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you replied quietly, carefully placing the plate of fruit on the table. The two of you shared a smile before his attention was on painting again.

For a moment, you paused to admire the way his focused expression softened his features, making him even more endearing in your eyes. You always found joy in watching your boyfriend immerse himself in the things he loved. Renjun consistently poured his heart and soul into everything he did, and that dedication was one of the many reasons your relationship flourished so beautifully.

After a few minutes passed by of you silently observing the boy, you leaned into place a quick kiss on his cheek. His eyes widened in surprise, and a faint blush followed.

“What was that for?” he asked, voice laced with curiosity.

You simply shrugged in response before confessing, “Just thought you looked cute.”

Renjun’s soft chuckle was like honey for your ears, and you couldn’t suppress a smile. “Oh is that so?” he teased, amusement twinkling in his eyes even as his gaze softened when he looked at you.

Now it was your turn to feel shy, heat naturally rushing to your face. Without a word, you reached for a slice of mango and lifted it to Renjun’s lips, quietly offering the yellow piece of fruit to him. Lucky for you, his eyes sparkled with fondness as he accepted the treat.

However, he didn’t waste the chance to quickly steal a kiss from your lips, before taking a bite. Your eyes mirrored the surprise he had experienced earlier, and Renjun laughed now the tables had been turned. He savored the sweetness of the mango, just as he savored the sweet moment shared between the two of you.

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jeno

You weren’t exactly expecting to return home to Jeno sprawled across your sofa. It was late at night, and you technically should have been back in your apartment much earlier. However, you got caught up in helping your friend rehearse for an audition and lost track of time. If you had known your boyfriend would be coming, you definitely would’ve gone home sooner.

After quietly removing your shoes and shedding off your jacket, you carefully crossed the room to check the man resting on the couch. He looked so peaceful with his eyes blissfully shut and the pillow he held close to his chest. Yet, you couldn’t help but frown, thinking about how he must’ve been exhausted from work. While he never complained, you usually saw through his facade.

With a barely audible sigh, you fetched a cozy blanket to drape over him and tucked it snugly around his sleeping form. Leaning down, your lips pressed to his forehead and let your lips linger for a moment before pulling away. You straightened up, ready to start your nightly routine before heading to bed yourself. However, you froze when a warm hand tugged at your wrist.

“Don’t go,” he murmured, almost sounding like a child begging his mom not to leave.

The unexpected sound of his voice made your heart skip a beat. “Sorry for waking you up,” you apologized sheepishly, turning back to see him.

He shifted over a bit to give you some space, and you sat down beside him. Without thinking, your hand subconsciously moved to stroke his hair gently. He hummed at the sensation, appreciating any sort of affection from you.

“Don’t apologize. I liked it,” he said softly, leaning further into your touch. “Do you always kiss me when I’m asleep?”

“Sometimes,” you admitted quietly, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks.

A small pout formed on his lips in response. “You should just kiss me when I’m awake so I can give you one back.”

His words would’ve sounded playful if they hadn’t been spoken in such a sulky tone. But of course, you sort of expected this reaction from Jeno. Chuckling softly, your embarrassment gradually began to melt away.

Moving your hand to caress his face, you casually said, “Well you can give me one now if you’d like.”

With your permission, Jeno happily sat up to pull you closer for a kiss that made your head spin. Nonetheless, it was a tender moment that left you both with silly smiles as you parted. Afterward, you took his hand in yours and suggested you both move to the bedroom so he could sleep more comfortably.

Later, as you cuddled up together in bed, Jeno smiled to himself as he felt a rush of love he felt for you. Even though it was past one a.m., he still found himself falling for you all over again.

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haechan

To say the least, Haechan was a little restless just chilling in his apartment with you. Usually, he liked being at home, especially with your company. But the original plan for today was to have a lovely date at Han River, which was forfeited due to the ongoing thunderstorm outside. He regretted not looking at the weather forecast beforehand.

So to cure his self-proclaimed “boredom,” Haechan proposed the idea of playing the pepero game. At first, you tried to decline, knowing that you’d be signing up for endless teasing and blushing on your part. That didn’t sound very fun to you.

“Oh come on, babe!” he pleaded, shaking the pepero box. “I won’t be annoying this time, promise.”

Knowing he was going to keep whining until you agreed, you reluctantly set aside the book you were using to ignore him. “Ugh, fine. But just this once!” you conceded, holding your pointer finger up as a warning.

Haechan grinned triumphantly as he tore open the bag inside the box to retrieve a Pepero stick. He moved to where you were sitting on the couch and lifted the chocolate-covered treat to your lips, gesturing to open it. With a resigned sigh, you reluctantly complied and took the stick with your teeth. Haechan took hold of the other end, his eyes already sparkling with mischief.

As the two of you started nibbling, Haechan promptly contradicted his earlier promise of not being annoying. His eyes sparkled with mischief when you hesitated after he took the next bite, leaving only a few centimeters left. No matter how often you had been in close proximity with your boyfriend, there was something uniquely captivating about the way his warm tan skin was adorned with scattered moles, and how you could get lost in his deep brown eyes. Seeing those features up close always stirred a weirdly fluttery sensation in your heart.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting shy already, (Y/n),” he teased, his words slightly muffled by the long biscuit between his teeth. You merely glared at him in response, unwilling to admit how easily you were influenced by him.

To rebel, you decided to make a bold move of your own this time. Despite your racing heart, you seized the opportunity and bit the remaining piece, but not without planting a swift kiss on his lips. Haechan froze for a moment as you pulled away. A laugh escaped when you saw that he was too stunned to speak. Well, that was one way to shut him up.

Feigning innocence, you asked, “That’s what you wanted, am I wrong?”

It didn’t take long for a grin to spread across the boy’s lips. The initial shock of your unexpected kiss was replaced by a look of amusement. In the next moment, his right arm encircled your waist, drawing you close once more. You didn’t even have time to blush before his lips began to explore every exposed inch of your skin.

“You’re so bad for me,” he murmured between kisses, his fingers tangling your hair. “But I love it.”

You giggled, surrendering to the warmth of his affection. Maybe you’d be more inclined to indulge in games with Haechan now, knowing they’d end up like this.

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jaemin

In the solace of his apartment, Jaemin observed you interact with his cats in the living room. Usually, he’d be cooing and snapping a hundred pictures of you and his children. However, he wasn’t very amused at the moment.

Na Jaemin never thought he’d be jealous of his babies until he saw Luke rubbing against your leg and hopping into your lap. Your giggly response and the way you tenderly stroked your fingers through the feline’s soft white hair, certainly didn’t make him feel any better. Although he loved his pets dearly, seeing them snuggle up to you so easily made him feel a bit envious.

“Hmmph, it seems like you’ve become more fond of Luke than your own boyfriend,” he scoffed, not even bothering to hide it.

You looked up, noticing how he was resting his head in the palm of his hand, his elbow propped on the couch’s armrest. His body language fully displayed his discontent, and you tried not to laugh. Rolling your eyes, you returned Luke to his siblings and tugged the collar of Jaemin’s hoodie to pull him in for a sweet kiss.

Any negative feelings dissipated instantly as his heart fluttered at the touch of your lips against his. Warmth spread through him like wildfire. But before he could reciprocate the kiss, you pulled away with a playful glint in your eyes.

“Does that make you happy?” you teased, gently pushing him back to give yourself some space.

Adoration shined over Jaemin’s eyes as he grinned. “Hm, I think another one would make me even happier,” he said, his voice husky with desire.

Before you could even respond this time, Jaemin was already leaning in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that sent sparks flying between you. One of his hands rested on the nape of your neck, allowing him to press his lips harder against yours, while the other was placed firmly on your waist. Though you were initially caught off guard by the sudden intensity of the kiss, you decided to enjoy this moment of intimacy.

As you melted into each other’s arms, Jaemin was reminded once again of just how amazing it felt to be loved by you. Honestly, if he could have one wish, he’d probably wish to kiss you forever.

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chenle

The steaming pot of oxtail soup stared up at you, and you lowered the heat to let it simmer some more. It was your first time cooking the Chinese soup. But recalling how your mom used to make it when you were younger, figuring it on your own hadn’t been too difficult. Although you were mostly confident in your culinary skills, you still wanted to be sure.

“Lele, can you come here for a sec?” you called out to your boyfriend who was probably playing some mobile game in the living room.

You could hear rustling sounds, and soon the sound of slippers padding against the wooden floor reached your ears. “Smells good babe,” he said, shuffling over to your side.

Something about seeing Chenle waddle into the kitchen, wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood over his messy hair, made your heart strangely beat faster. But instead of ignoring that feeling like you usually did, you decided to act on it this time.

After dipping a spoon in the red broth, you raised the utensil to his mouth. “Taste it for me.”

Chenle complied, allowing you to feed him some of the soup. You tried to suppress a laugh as a smug yet impressed expression appeared on his face. However, before he could give you his feedback, you swiftly leaned in to give him a peck.

The male froze for a moment at your actions. You chuckled softly and hugged his waist, as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. His eyes widened in surprise before the corner of his lips curled into a smirk. A part of him wanted to tease you for stepping out of your shy image, but he also found himself enjoying it a little too much.

“Did you like it?” you asked, glancing up at him innocently.

Chenle’s cocky grin widened as he leaned in closer. His eyes twinkled with mischief, as he used his pointer finger to gently tilt your chin upward. “Wait, let me taste it again to just be sure,” he teased.

It didn’t take much for you to understand that he was not talking about the food. You simply smiled as his lips brushed against yours before he went all in. Shivers danced down your spine as you melted into the electrifying kiss. By the time you finally pulled apart, Chenle was smiling like an idiot.

“Hm, that was delicious,” he breathed, earning a playful smack on the shoulder from you. Even though you had started it, his comment was unnecessary in your opinion. Was he trying to kill you?

Trying to recover from your now flustered state, you returned your attention to the brewing pot on the stove. Chenle’s laugh rang through your ears, and then he was squeezing you into a backhug. It was those types of moments that reassured you that being with Chenle could never be boring.

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jisung

Amidst the dark sky, the street lamps cast a soft, golden glow as you walked back to your apartment. Jisung strolled beside you, holding your hand securely. Occasionally, you smiled to yourself, thinking about how tonight had been another lovely date, filled with laughter, shared stories, and stolen glances that spoke volumes without a single word.

As you neared your apartment building, you felt Jisung’s fingers intertwined with yours tighten. A sense of reluctance washed over him, realizing that he wasn’t ready to say goodbye tonight yet. Your presence always brought Jisung a sense of warmth that made him the happiest when you were together. He wanted to experience that just a little while longer.

Pausing in front of your door, your eyes widened when you were pulled into a tight embrace. Jisung seemed clingier than usual this evening, but you honestly couldn’t complain. You returned the hug by wrapping your arms around his waist and letting your nose press against the oversized hoodie he was wearing. The scent of the perfume Renjun recently bought for him filled your senses. It wasn’t bad, you thought to yourself.

“I miss you already,” Jisung murmured, his chin relaxing against your head.

The soft longing in his voice left your heart melting. These were the types of words you expected to read in texts from Jisung. So hearing them in person was even more touching. A smile tugged on your lips and you pulled away slightly to glance around, ensuring there were no cameras around. Once you confirmed there were no prying eyes that might stir trouble for either of you, you reached up on your tiptoes and pressed a quick but passionate kiss to Jisung’s lips.

He blinked in surprise, heat immediately rushing to his cheeks as the unexpected affection registered through his mind. Any kiss from you always made his heart flutter and left him wearing a shy smile. Nonetheless, witnessing the fondness in your eyes as you were blushing too was irresistible for Jisung.

Chuckling he moved his hand to gently pat your head. “Cute.”

You blushed a little at his words and squeezed in one last hug before he reluctantly released you to head inside.

“I love you, Ji,” you said quietly, glancing back one last time to ensure he heard you. He exhaled shakily and said he loved you more.

There was an unspoken sadness shared between you, both feeling the weight of the parting. The two of you were uncertain of when or where you’d meet again. However, you found comfort in the knowledge that the love you had with Jisung was too strong to let too much time pass without seeing each other. In the meantime, you would cherish those precious memories together.

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previous masterlist -> new masterlist

#nct dream #nctzen #kpop #czennie #nct dream imagines #nct #jeno #nct dream fluff #jaemin #renjun #mark #haechan #jisung #chenle #nct dream x reader #nct dream reactions #7dream #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios

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prentissluvr · 3 months ago

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now you know — sam winchester

cw : gn!awkward!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, canon typical violence and monsters, near drowning experience, poor editing as usual, 6.8K words. part two of makes you wonder.

summary : you become more entangled in "agent" sam's case when you come across the monster he seeks. pronunciation guide (using scottish gaelic) : each-uishge — yahk-oosh-ga. [ disclaimer, i found this on the internet! i’m not scottish nor do i speak scottish gaelic, so correct me if i'm wrong ! ]

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

the bar isn’t your go-to spot after work, mostly because that means you have to talk to people for some reason or another, but you’re feeling good tonight. good, and also still questioning your entire worldview so you figure it’s a good time as any to get a drink.

you’re halfway through your drink, eyes downcast and tracking the details of the table’s wood, when a hand on the back of the chair across from you snags your attention. you look up, slightly startled by the sudden appearance of a stranger. the first thing you notice is how beautiful he is. his rich, lightly curled dark brown hair and finely sculpted features are the kind of handsome that resemble a classic greco-roman kind of beauty.

his unrealistically good looks and charming scottish accent as he asks, “would you mind if i sit here?” almost disarm you completely before you remember that means you’ll have to talk to him. plus, you have a date to schedule with your mysterious agent sam.

“well, i’m headed home soon, so i guess that’s alright,” you say, trying to immediately display your disinterest without flat out rejecting him. when he slides into the chair with a smile that teeters between sleezy and charming, you wish you’d just said no.

“maybe i can change your mind,” he drawls, and you have to hold back from physically cringing. you now desperately want him to go, but don’t know how to get him to politely after having made the mistake letting him sit. “let me buy you another drink,” he offers.

you shake your head. “no, that’s– that’s not really very necessary. this is enough for me,” you refuse, motioning to your half-empty glass.

“oh, come darlin’! a free drink might not be necessary, but it surely’s a nicety, don’t ya think?” he raises a thick, neatly groomed eyebrow at you, making an unfortunately successful attempt at a handsome, flirty look.

for once, you hope that your smile looks just as pained and awkward as it feels. “it’s a kind offer, i just, you know, don’t want another drink, so… that’s okay.”

he lifts his hands a little to signal surrender. “your loss then, love.” as he searches for some other flirty quip that might persuade you better, he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, and if you weren’t paying close attention in that exact moment, you would’ve completely missed the sprinkle of sand that falls from his hair and into his lap at the movement. you inhale sharply, suddenly afraid.

you try to sound casual when you pull a classic, “you know, i should really get going. i have an early morning tomorrow.” gathering your stuff up into your arms, you stand and try to convince yourself that you’re seeing things and that even if there was sand in his hair, it was just a coincidence. “have a nice night!”

then, as you spare him one last glance, he tilts his head when he bids you a flirtatious goodbye. “hope to see you here again,” he grins and a few more grains of sand fall to his shoulder, it’s light color stark against the dark fabric of his button up shirt. you try to stay unreadable, but your gaze follows the sand as it falls and his eyes follow yours to his shoulder. he brushes the dirt off and a dangerous look crosses his face. quite frankly, the look terrifies you, so you don’t waste a second to spin on your heel and rush out of the building towards your parked car.

the moment your back is turned, you’re digging around your bag until you find sam’s business card. with shaky hands and hurried feet, you punch the phone number into your phone and hold it to your ear, silently begging for him to pick up as you exit the building and the cool air of the night hits you.

“hello?” comes the newly familiar voice of sam through the phone speaker.

“sam! hi, it’s me, from the museum. you know, earlier today,” you think your voice may have come out a little panicked.

“yeah, yeah, of course,” he answers, voice please at first, then turning more serious, “good to hear from you, is everything alright? it’s sort of late.” he seems to have picked up on the scared edge to your voice.

“i, um, god, i’m about to sound a little bit insane, but i’m just gonna say it. are you a real fbi agent? if yes, that’s great and i’m probably just really paranoid and making things up, if not, can i say something sort of crazy because i think that you might actually believe me? you know, if you’re, uh– not actually an fbi agent who thinks that totally normal reasons can explain those deaths you’re investigating?” you ramble, stumbling awkwardly through your words and feeling like a complete fool. there’s a moment of silence where you curse the fact that you had to park so far away, because you just want to be safely tucked into your car and headed home. the thought that sam thinks you’re totally off your rocker crosses your mind.

but sam’s sigh on the other line sounds almost relieved, and he answers. “i’m not– not an fbi agent. and trust me, whatever you could say that you might think is crazy, is probably nothing compared to some of the shit i’ve seen, so you can say whatever it is. i promise i won’t think you’re crazy.”

“okay,” you say breathlessly as your vague suspicions are confirmed. then you let it just tumble from your lips. “i think that the each-uisge is real and that i just met it and–” you cut yourself off when you hear something behind you. you’ve been so focused on sam that you haven’t been paying enough attention to anything else, and when you whip your head around, you see the man from the bar following you from a bit of a distance. you draw in a sharp breath of fear.

“shit,” sam curses, “where? you gotta get away from it, meet me at the–,” he instructs quickly.

you cut him off, real panic entering your voice as you pick up your speed, almost at a run. “fuck, sam, he’s coming for me, i think– i– i don’t know. but he had sand in his hair and he saw me looking at it and he’s following me and i’m almost to my car,” you ramble, glancing over your shoulder. the man is closer than before, he’s clearly picked up his own pace as well. “but he’s getting closer and i don’t have any iron or silver or anything and i–”

“hey, hey, listen to me. run as fast as you can to your car. you’re gonna be okay.” sam’s calm and level headedness are helpful, and immediately, you begin to sprint. but with a glance backwards, you see the thing gaining on you with unnatural speed. “drive anywhere and i’ll track your phone, i’m already on my way to come get you, okay? you’re gonna be fine.”

you don’t realize you’re crying until you choke on your tears when you try to speak. “sam i– i don’t think i can make it, he’s too fast. the lake isn’t far from here, just head there, i–” you scream when an unnaturally strong hand clamps around your wrist.

you hear sam shout your name as you’re whirled around to face the creepy man from the bar. you try to pull away, but his skin is like adhesive, literally. you can feel your skin sticking to his like there’s super glue leaking from his pores.

“sam, please,” you sob out before the phone is ripped out of your hand and tossed aside. the man, or creature, or whatever bares his teeth in your face.

“it’s too late, sweetheart. all that hunter’s gonna find of you is your liver in the water. but you already know that, don’t you? hmm? how’d you know what i am?” he snarls, tugging you closer to him and smirking.

you don’t answer, just growl in frustration and struggle helplessly against him. “let me go!” you demand through tears.

“‘fraid that’s not an option, lass.” he smirks, then he’s yanking you behind him, pressing you into his back and in horror, you realize that his shape is changing right against you until you’re stuck to the back of a tall, dark horse, high above the ground. you let out a strangled scream and desperately struggle to get off. but, just as the folklore tells it, his sleek coat is impossibly sticky, as the lake must be close enough for him to smell its waters.

the horse leaps into a gallop, and another yelp is pulled from your lips from the speed he takes off at. panic rips through you and you grip the hair of the horse’s mane to keep your upper body from being yanked backwards. in a small moment of clear thinking, you keep your other hand from touching the horse. indeed, even his mane is adhesive, and you’re now stuck with just a single free hand.

the streets and buildings are a complete blur to you with the combination of such speed and the tears in your eyes. all you can tell is when the town fades into the forest, and you’re being torn at by harsh, unforgiving tree branches. at this point, you know that begging or screaming is useless. so, you let tears be ripped from your eyes and pulled into the air by the wind rippling past you, and silently beg to whatever entity may be listening that sam gets to you on time.

suddenly, you’ve torn past the trees and straight into the shallow waters of the lake, and your hope fades. in seconds, your feet dip into the cold shock of water, and you think of how you never imagined your life would end this way. mostly because you didn’t think that shape-shifting killer horse-men were real, but here you are.

as your helplessness increases, you remember the silver necklace around your neck. it’s small, mostly likely inconsequential, but you still yank it off of your neck and press it against the neck of the large animal. it rears up, whinnying in pain, and you would’ve fallen and likely cracked your head open if you weren’t stuck to the creature’s back.

the silver clearly burns, but it’s too small to keep the large creature from completing its mission. it’s hungry.

as your knees dip under the cold water, you hear the rumble of an old engine, then glance back just in time to see a tall, broad silhouette against the car’s bright headlights, running towards you as your waist, then chest are pulled under.

it’s sam, and he yells your name as he splashes into the dark water. you choke out his name, then gulp in a full breath as the water reaches your chin, then swallows you up whole. it’s coldest against your head, suffocating and heavy and horrifying.

you don’t stop struggling when you’re submerged, hoping maybe the adhesive wears up under water. of course, you’re not so lucky, but your struggle seems to slow down the horse as it dives deeper into the water. there’s a long, torturous moment that passes where you’re positive that sam will be too late; your lungs already burn and you don’t think it’ll take too long for you to be drowned and eaten by something that probably shouldn’t exist.

but, your hopelessness is interrupted when the dulled light of his flashlight hits you, just as it begins to flicker and fail from being under water. then, his long arm is reaching out, grabbing hold of the horses mane to tug himself closer. the horse attempts to kick him away, but sam is able to sink a long dagger blade into the horse’s neck. a shudder passes through the monster, then it stills, and your immediately begin to float away from it. it’s magical properties fail as it dies, dark blood oozing out into the water.

in a haze, you notice the water tainted with blood is warmer. it’s darkness and the way it seeps through the water reminds you of the ink of a squid. in a split second, sam’s strong arm wraps around your waist as his flashlight dies and the darkness in your vision isn’t just from the loss of light, but the loss of consciousness too.

you do your best to cling to your awareness and sam’s broad shoulders, but you go limp in his arms just a few heavy moments before he breaks the surface, gasping and struggling a bit from holding both you and the dagger.

dean is right there to help sam, knee deep in the water. he quickly takes a hold of you and carries you to the edge of the water where he lays you down on your back. sam drops to his knees right beside you, and immediately, his hands are cupping your face, one hand slapping your cheek gently to see if you’ll wake up on your own before he starts cpr.

dean’s about to shove sam out of the way to do it himself, given that he’s far less exhausted, when your eyes fly open and you cough violently, your lungs doing their best to expel the unwelcome water from your lungs.

even soaked in cold water, sam’s hands are still steady as he turns you to your side and pats your back to be sure that you don’t choke. you can’t really make out what he’s saying, but his voice is comforting as you gasp and sputter, your hands grasping at his for something solid to take hold of.

“it’s okay, it’s okay. you’re safe now, i got you.” sam reassures, voice soft and steady. he pulls you up and into his chest as your coughing becomes less laden with lake water and more so with tears. it crosses your mind that you hate to be seen so uncomposed and vulnerable, choking a little on your own sobs, shaking from cold and residual fear, and sort of unable to speak after your whole entire view of the world has been grabbed hold of by some other force and tilted to a whole new angle. but you let sam hold you anyways; his broad frame, large set of hands, and hushed voice are so grounding that you wouldn’t dare move away.

you’re vaguely aware of someone else shrugging a warm, dry jacket over your shoulders, and sam is quick to readjust and pull it tight around you. and with that, your head tucked into his neck and your arms wrapped around his middle, you finally begin to calm down. your breathing evens to match the pace of his hand rubbing up and down your back and you shudder against him one last time before you shift to put a palm on the ground and take responsibility for some of your own body weight. you’re still leaning against him, because you’re not sure you could hold yourself up on your own, but you want it to be known that you’re regaining your composure.

the first words that you mean to say to sam are thank you, but the moment you open your mouth, you catch sight of something glinting in the moonlight just a foot or two away. so instead of the gratitude you mean to express, the words, “is that my dirk?” tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. sam winces guiltily underneath you and in an instant, you’re stumbling to correct yourself.

“oh god, that’s not what i meant to say, i’m so sorry. that is so horribly ungrateful of me,” your voice shakes from the chattering of your teeth as you look at him with total regret. “i was trying to say ‘thank you’ and i got distracted and i said that instead, but i didn’t mean it that way, i was just… confused.” you don’t even catch the way that sam smiles at you, all soft and endeared.

and in reality, you are worried about the state of your priceless knife. you truly mean that you’re sorry for saying that instead of thank you first, but you still scramble away from sam in order to get the knife in your own hands.

the blade has mostly been washed up by the waters of the lake, but there’s residue of a dark, sticky substance that makes you cringe. but, with a sigh of relief, you realize that there’s no further damage to the artifact and carefully clean it with the still dripping wet fabric of your shirt.

behind you, someone’s laughing and it’s not sam. you finally fully register the presence of another person. you look up to see another man, pretty like sam, but with an amused smirk on his features.

“sorry,” you mumble sheepishly. “thank you, both of you. for, you know, saving my sorry ass.”

“of course,” comes sam’s sincere voice, “i’m just glad we got here in time. i’m sorry this happened. and for stealing your dirk.” you look over at him with an embarrassed, shaky smile. he points to the other man with his chin and you return your gaze to him. “that’s my brother, dean.” dean holds up his hand in a sort of greeting and you nod back.

“let’s get you two dried off,” dean says, voice still a little amused. “where can we drop you?” he asks kindly, stepping towards you and holding out a hand to help you up. you take his hand, still dripping the dagger in your other, and he hoists you up. as you’re still finding your footing, you feel sam by your side, then his big hand on the small of your back keeping you steady.

“thanks,” you murmur to the both of them. sam smiles at you, and dean lets your hand go, knowing that sam will be plenty pleased and anxious to be the one to lead you to the car. he managed to annoy sam into admitting that he asked you out on a date within minutes after he got back to the motel from the museum. sam had been trying not to be too smiley. he absolutely had been all smiley.

now, sam’s not smiling. he’s worried and completely guilt-ridden because he’s managed to see the sweet, awkward, and at ease you, and then a version of you that’s limp in his arms. as he ushers your shaking form into the back of the impala, he wonders if he should call it off. tell you he can’t make it to a date, that there’s a new case and he has to leave right away. not call you back. it’s nowhere near his fault that the each-uisge got to you, and yet, he knows that proximity to him means danger. that’s the last thing that he wants for you, even if he thinks he might want you.

and yet, you shiver and gingerly clutch onto your 16th century scottish dirk in the back seat of his brother’s car and when he glances back at you, you have the audacity to send him an adorable, lopsided little smile. you’ve just found out that monsters are real and nearly drowned at one’s hands and you have the audacity to smile at him? smile at him like you’re just fine when you’re so cold he can see you shivering through the rearview mirror and he feels like it’s his fault? and you look like you feel awkward, like you think smiling at him is the most normal thing you can think to do, and it makes him like you very much.

you’re irresistible, and he’d really like to be able to resist you, for your own sake.

“so,” when you start to speak, your voice trembles a little, just because of the way your teeth chatter. sam’s cold too, but it seems to be affecting you more. “hot, homicidal horse-man shapeshifters from scottish folklore are real,” you state, sounding an odd mix of afraid, confused, and very curious. you lean forward and lean against the seats in front of you. “is there… more?”

sam turns his head to look at you, his face full of regret. “yeah,” he says, sighing. “pretty much anything supernatural you can think of. from werewolves, vampires, and ghosts to djinn, each-uisge.”

“oh,” you ponder, “that’s… insane,” you settle on. sam nods in agreement.

dean lets out a huff of laughter. “you got that right. sounds like you’re handling it pretty okay, though,” he commends you.

you shrug, then admit, “i’m actually… trying not to be excited right now because i almost just died from that shit, but… it’s– sort of, kind of, just a little bit cool to me. to know that it’s all real, not that there’s dangerous creatures out there killing people. very not cool,” you nod at your own words awkwardly, trying to be honest about how you feel without sounding insensitive. “and you two… what? go around and save people from them?” you ask, tilting your head to the side curiously.

“yep,” dean chimes, “we’re hunters. we find monsters and gank ‘em for a living. not that it pays.”

“huh. hunters… that must… suck,” you conclude, then try to backtrack, “not– not that i’m saying it’s not important or– or that your lives suck, or– or… yeah.”

“no, no, it’s okay,” sam assures you, “it kind of does suck. a lot, sometimes, but we… we help people, and it’s worth it.” he wants you to think it sucks. he wants you to hate it and he wants you to think it’s too dangerous and awful that you don’t even want to be associated with him. and at the same time, he wants you to think that he helps, that he thinks it’s worth it because he can’t lie about that either. and he already knows, from the way you’re taking things, you won’t think of it as any reason not to be at least alright with him. god, sam’s got no idea what the hell to think, or what the hell to want.

“yeah,” you nod, “yeah, that’s– that’s good of you two.” you sort of wondered before if all this might change how you feel about going on a date with sam. when you think about it now, it doesn’t. it doesn’t change a thing. you still think he’s delightful. “so… where are you two staying? the bed and breakfast?”

“uh, no, we’re staying in the motel just outta town,” sam answers.

“in that shithole?” you raise your eyebrows skeptically. “gosh, i hear there’s never any hot water.”

“damn straight,” confirms dean with a humorless chuckle. “but we’ve had worse. at least this the water gets lukewarm.” sam shoots dean a look that neither of you catch, and the next words that you say are the reason for it.

“well, you two should come shower in my apartment, then,” you don’t seem to realize that’s a little bit suggestive, but neither could care less. it’s clearly just a kind offer. “it’s always hot and the water pressure is pretty much perfect. and sam, if you’re anywhere near as cold as i am, you definitely need a hot shower.”

“no, no, we shouldn’t,” sam refutes, voice kind and regretful in a way he hadn’t meant to show. “we don’t want to intrude after all the shit from tonight.”

you swallow, wondering if you can convince him to stay without admitting that you’re still scared. but you figure that might be the only way. after saving your life he seems to feel guilty, and you can’t understand why. “you wouldn’t be intruding, i promise. you… you really need a hot shower.”

“i’ll be alright,” he assures you, adding, “i’ve had much worse,” for good measure. he needs you to know that it’s dangerous to know him.

you sigh and sit back, leaning into the leather seat. “would you… would you mind, you know, staying with me a little longer?” you let a little bit of vulnerability seep into your voice; you don’t want to say the words i’m still scared, but you do want to give sam a reason to stay that he’ll actually take.

he glances back at you, and it’s too dark to see the look on his face; still guilty, but soft, warm, and understanding.

“no, no, i wouldn’t mind,” he says, voice extra gentle. you let out a relieved breath, glad that he understood your message. the rest of the car ride is quiet aside from your instructions guiding dean to your apartment. he pulls to the side of the road in front of your building. sam gets out first, opening your door for you and hovering his big palm over your head as you step out of the small car. you thank him quietly with a soft smile. he heads to the trunk to grab a spare change of dry clothes and you pull the big brown leather jacket off of your shoulders. you assume it to be dean’s, so you open the passenger’s side door and hand it to him.

“thank you, dean. you, um, if you want, you’re welcome to take a hot shower here, too,” you offer, noting the way he doesn’t actually park the car or step out himself.

“that’s alright, sweetheart,” he grins, “i’ll leave you and sammy alone.” his tone is definitely suggestive, and he winks at you. you sputter for a second, then clear your throat awkwardly.

“i, um, sure! sounds good,” you squeak out, quickly retreating from the car and shutting the door. it’s very quiet, but you think you hear dean laughing a little. you try not to look completely embarrassed when sam approaches you.

“dean say he’s not coming?” he asks.

you shake your head. “uh, n-no he said he’s fine.”

sam raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t say anything about the way you seem much more flustered than you were just moments ago. he’s sure than dean made some inappropriate comment, and he’ll apologize for it later.

“he say he’d wait here?” he asks instead. the last thing he wants is for dean to have inadvertently invited sam over for the night.

“um, no, i-i figured that he’d- that you’d…” you swallow thickly, unsure how to proceed. then dean shifts the car into drive and begins to pull back into the street.

“dean, wait!” sam calls after him, certainly loud enough to hear. sam is ignored, and the gorgeous black car just rumbles down the street. “god, i’m sorry about him. i’ll call him to pick me up.” he looks at you apologetically but you shake your head.

“no, no, it’s okay! i sort of thought that you… you know, might… stay over? only if you’re okay with that, i- it’s okay if you want him to pick you obviously, but… my couch is free and comfortable. probably better than the shitty motel mattresses.” you look at him, eyes both kind and unsure, and he finally remembers that you’re still shivering, even more without dean’s jacket pulled over your shoulders.

“i… if you’re sure. let’s just get inside for now,” he urges, hovering his hand over your shoulder blade as you both turn and walk into the building. you lead the way to your apartment, quiet and soft in your movements. somehow, sam is softer.

inside, he insists that you don’t worry about him, that you head right into the shower because you’re still shivering and it’s got him really quite worried. but you resist, first grabbing him a dry towel and a big fluffy blanket to warm himself up with while he waits in the living room. you tell him where the mugs and the tea can be found, and that the kettle should boil filtered water only.

“you should make yourself a hot cup of tea,” you say, and tell him that the decaffeinated green genmaicha is your favorite for this time of night if he’d like to make one for you too. sure that he’d feel unuseful just sitting on the couch, you give him something to do.

when you step into the shower, you expect to be soothed. you expect your shoulders to relax and your limbs to stop shuddering and your teeth to quit chattering. it’s true that the bone deep chill begins to fade, and you stop fearing hypothermia. but you are not near soothed or relaxed. it’s not horrible because of the heat, the light, and the familiar surroundings. but the water on your skin is not as welcome as you’d wished. it’s not cold enough or suffocating enough to pull you back down into the lake with the sticky flesh-eating horse, but it’s not pleasant at all.

you wash up quickly, then step out, dry off, and get dressed even quicker. you cover yourself in the sort of clothing fit for the middle of winter when you’ve been snowed in. fleece pajama pants, a cotton, crew neck long-sleeved shirt, and a sweatshirt to top it all off with. you don’t forget thick socks or the fuzzy blanket from your bed.

you find sam in your living room, a cup of tea on the coffee table and another in his hands as he stands with the green towel you gave him before wrapped over his shoulders.

“why aren’t you sitting?” you ask, perturbed by the idea that he’s been standing this whole time.

“i… didn’t want to get your furniture wet,” he explains, almost sheepishly. you shake your head at him, half amused by the lengths he goes to be gentlemanly.

“that’s sweet, but unnecessary. i wouldn’t have minded,” you say softly. “anyway, the shower’s all yours. take as long as you like.”

he sets his mug down and gathers up his change of clothes before heading towards the bathroom.

“and there’s a fresh towel on the counter! don’t use that green one,” you call after him lightly, wanting to be sure he won’t reuse the already damp one.

“okay,” he calls back, and he’s turned away so you don’t see the soft smile on his lips. you settle into one end of your couch, curled up with the blanket wrapped tight around your body for warmth and comfort. no matter how much you wish you weren’t, you’re still shaken from everything, especially after the feeling of water on your skin again. you reach for the mug on the table, it’s ceramic material warm on your hands, but no longer too hot to hold. it’s a soothing feeling, along with the hot, earthy tea that slides down your throat and into your stomach when you take a long drag of the drink.

all you do is sit there, drinking tea and wondering when sam will be done. you told him to take as long he wanted, but the sight of him is comforting, and you hope he’s done soon.

he looks refreshed and relaxed when he emerges from the bathroom. he sits in the chair across from you with a grateful smile.

“thank you,” he says, voice quite lovely and sincere, “it’s been a while since i’ve had such a nice shower.” to you, he wasn’t gone too long, but for him, it was special and an absolute privilege to have a hot shower last that long. and your bathroom isn’t that nice by any stretch, but it certainly beats anything he can find in a motel. it’s homier, warmer, and familiar only because it suits you. honestly, he had trouble getting the courage to turn off the shower head; it was just too pleasant. but he didn’t want to wrack up your water bill, so he gave himself an extra minute before stepping out and getting redressed.

and now you’re telling him about how easy of a favor it was, and that he’s welcome to that sort of thing anytime. he’s so unsure of how to proceed, so conflicted, that you’re the one to bring it up.

“so… are you still, y’know, um, interested? in going out to lunch, that is,” you ask hopefully, clumsily.

oh god. he doesn’t think he has the strength to say no, to disappoint you, to ruin this chance with you. but it’s dangerous for you and that’s the last thing he wants. yet, he’s not sure he could ever bear the face you might make if he makes some lame excuse to blow you off. and it would all be a total lie. he is interested, maybe more than just that. he goddamn wants it.

“i am. of course i am.” he’s more relieved than scared when he says that, so he feels like it must be right. and he hates the idea that you’d even doubt his interest in you. if anyone has the right to be second guessing a date, it’s you. he’s honestly a little surprised you’d still want this. surprised, and beyond flattered. “i… don’t know how long i’ll be in town, but i’ll of course be here tomorrow, if that’s okay with you.”

you grin widely. “yeah, yeah that’s perfect.” your expression shifts and you look at him carefully. “and… after that? i don’t mean to jump ahead or anything and i… i know you’ll be… traveling, but it sort of seems like sometimes, you know, maybe, i could possibly… help you out? if you ever need information on weapons and lore and that sort of thing… you could, y'know, call me? i… i’d love to help, at the very least.” hopeful and clumsy. that seems to be the theme of the night for your words.

sam’s gaze, no, his whole form softens. he loves the way you talk and he finds it sort of crazy that he’s met you only this afternoon. for a moment he thinks he’s surprised by your offer to help, but when he considers it for a moment, he’s really not. it fits you; your warmth, kindness, passion, and intelligence. he’s still scared about involving you with him at all, even more scared about involving you in hunting directly, even if you just help with information.

yet somehow, your offer eases him. it’s a thought you’ve had all on your own, something you say you’d actually like to be able to do. he supposes he should just be honest with you.

“i’ll call you. not just for help,” he begins, nodding to assure you that he wants that, and more. he’s so torn. torn between caving and just diving into this chance that he has or walking away and most likely saving you a whole lot of grief. and yet, it absolutely wouldn’t be fair to not give you a choice, so that’s exactly what he’ll do. “but… you… are you sure about this?” he asks with a heavy sigh, eyes careful and sincere as he examines your expression, your curled up form indicating you might still be feeling shaken.

“it’s not pleasant. people die,” he says, frank, but still gentle in tone. “dean and i, we could die. and you being involved… it makes things dangerous for you. even if you’re not out there, physically in the fight, it… it’s dangerous to be associated with us. with me. i don’t want that for you, but i… i would like to get to know you better, i know that much. and i know that it’s your choice, not mine. if helping is what you really want to do… i’m sure that you could save lives. we… could use your help. just… you can back out at any time. you can back out right now, if that’s what you want.”

he’s grateful that you really take a long moment to consider what he says. your eyes roam over his face, taking in the details of his expression, his sincerity, all of the changes in tone that you can pick up on. you think about it, you really do.

“let’s get to know each other,” you decide, voice soft. as you go on, you sound both unsure, like you’re still finding your footing, and determined, like you’re sure you’ll be steady eventually. “i’d really like that… as for the rest… for the monsters and all that, i… i’d still like to help. or at least try. if… if it’s too much, or feels dangerous, then i can… i can figure out what to do then. but if i could help save lives? i… i can’t just ignore that. i don’t want to ignore that. i do really appreciate that you're, you know, worried about my safety, it– it’s very sweet, i just– i know that i want this.” you say the last bit definitively, like you’ve been building up to it, convincing yourself of it and now you really believe it.

sam’s relieved. he shouldn’t be, but he is. he wanted that answer, no matter his worries. he nods simply, giving you a soft smile. “okay. thank you.”

you smile back, thinking it’s sweet that he thanks you for offering your help, and maybe for something else too.

“my, uh, my lunch break is only half an hour,” you state, shifting the conversation just a little bit. “and i– i get if you’re tired, but we could… start now. you know, the getting to know each other part,” you offer, voice a little quiet and unsure again. you’re a bit clumsy and awkward when it comes to… well, most everything, but especially this sort of thing. you’re not even sure exactly what this is supposed to be. flirting? dating? or maybe it’s just as simple as that; getting to know each other. sam’s not perfect at this either, but he can certainly step into the more confident role for you. he wants you to feel at ease.

“yeah,” he says softly. “i’m not too tired. i don’t want to keep you up late, though. tonight was… tiring, i’m sure, and you have work in the morning.”

goodness, he’s so caring and considerate that it almost hurts. you fight back a yawn, trying not to prove his point as you think about waking to your alarm clock tomorrow morning. you don’t want to go to bed yet, and you don’t want to miss out on whatever time you have to talk with him.

“well… maybe i can call off. even just for the morning. i’ve got plenty of paid time off saved up,” you suggest, glad for this idea. you’re positive that you deserve to miss a little bit of work after what you just went through.

if you were offering just for him, sam would shake his head, insist that you don’t have to. but he considers that not having to worry about work in the morning and being able to sleep in would likely be very good for you.

“if that’s what you want, it makes sense,” he says, smiling softly.

“okay,” you smile back, “i’ll email my boss, it’ll only take a minute. she’ll see it in the morning.” your computer’s in your room, so you leave sam to his own devices for just a moment. in the hallway on the way back, you speak up so he can hear you as you approach. “would you like to watch a movie? you might be right that i’m a little too tired to stay up talking, but i… don’t quite want to go to bed.” your voice quiets once you’re back in the small living room. frankly, the idea of being alone in your room, of laying down with nothing to do but think or sleep, frightens you.

his face softens like he can read your fear. “that sounds perfect to me.” you relax at his constant sweetness and subtle encouragements.

“perfect,” you smile. “you’ll… have to get up so i can move that chair out of the way. you can sit on the couch, though.” he stands and moves the chair away from the tv for you, then sits on the other end of the couch. you snuggle into your own corner after picking a dvd. turns out that sam has seen and loves your favorite movie.

turns out that he’s also a little too respectful and careful to get very close to you as you watch, but he doesn’t mind when you grow sleepy and stretch your legs a little more over the cushions. you don’t ask; you’re a little embarrassed, so he tells you it’s alright if you rest your feet against his thigh. and he doesn’t know where to put his hand after that, so you tell him that he can rest it on your calf. he does, and just that is infinitely comforting.

and turns out that, halfway through the movie, when you fall into a soft, quiet sleep, the only thing that sam’s worried about anymore is if he should let you just sleep there or carry you to your own bed. he doesn’t care if he has to sleep curled up in the corner of the couch or that chair or on the goddamn floor; he just doesn’t want to wake you.

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livingdeadgirlflorette · 1 month ago

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YOU KNOW WHERE TO FIND ME ⊹˚. ♡. ݁ ˖ carl grimes x fem! reader

summary : With Carl's dream's being invaded by a girl of all things, curiosity gets the best of him when he sees her pass by in real time— and he couldn't just let her slip away just like in his dreams, not this time.

word count : 6.2k

tags / rundown : fluff, strangers to ???, reader is a sucker for cute boys, carl is confused, carl doesn't know how to talk to girls, reader is an archer and all that jazz

a / n : i'm not really sure if i like the theme, but the tv girl theme just had to be made with the fic >< I think I really like Y/N and Carl's relationship here! i'm definitely gonna make a part 2 to this ^^ also thank you again for the support! I didn't think my fics would get a lot of traction but here we are! I love each and every single one of you from the bottom of my heart (*≧∀≦)

dividers by me ! ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

"Be careful, alright?" Rick places Carl's hat on his head, squeezing his shoulder lovingly then pulling him in for a hug.

Carl knows he shouldn't feel down, but with his father getting all caring for him now that he was going on his first solo run he couldn't help but let his parent-like tendencies out.

"I'll keep a vigilant eye out for you, okay Dad?" Carl assures his father. They both pull away and they say bye to each other at the gate, waiting for the gate to fully close to have one last glimpse at one another.

When the walls finally shut and he's officially seperated, Carl gets into the car that was supplied by the community; he's quite smug about it, knowing how to drive a car and all (he literally wouldn't stop bragging to Enid about it, who was praying to any deity out there for him to stop).

Driving was like second nature to him, it was therapeutic to say the least. There was nobody and to bug him about, at least when he was driving. That's what he loved most about it; no questions, no thoughts, just the stable whirring of the car engine and the stepping of the pedal harder every once in a while. But sometimes the silence and calm gets shrouded by a storm of thoughts he never could get to cease, even in the comfort of his own room.

On the off chance that Carl was relaxed and tired enough, he'd pass through the gateways of his mind and slip into his dreams. From the amount of times that it'd been there whenever he did dream, there was a constant variable that he would always expect when coming into the languid dimension of sleep.

It was always the same event; he would always have a blurry vignette of a vision of him on an unspecified person's bed— yet he felt heavy, not being able to move. The only thing he could barely move was his eyesight.

From his impaired vision he could see a woody ceiling, one that you'd see from a regular house made from tree. Multiple graphic posters on the wall, yet he could see the familliar colors of the comic franchise he was actively reading.

Looking around, he could only see the blurred vision of candles and oil lamps surrounding him. And the one thing that was always there was a girl; sitting on the edge of the bed, tending to presumably some kind of wound he'd have on his head.

The countless times he has been there, he tried to clear his vision from the lethargy-induced haze to make out some kind of features on your face. But to no avail— all he could remember was the warmth of your hand tending to him, using the back of your hand to check his forehead.

Carl tried to stop it, he swears he did. He tried prohibit himself from getting used to the comfort of the looping dream, because that's what they were. Just dreams— yet his mind seemed to betray his body, subconsciously opening the door of the scene of girl in that house, tending to him with such care. He guesses since there was no stopping it, he'd rather just indulge himself in it.

But before Carl could let himself dig deeper into the unanswerable questions he had, he barely registered the stable whirring of the car had ceased. He logically looked at the fuel gauge, seeing it empty.

"Fuck. . ." He muttered with his voice low. How could he have forgetten to bring extra gas?

Sighing frustrated, he grabs the fire-red fuel container from the passenger seat and got out of the car— He figured he'd just have to look for gas farther from here, since there didn't seem to be any sign of cars anywhere near where he was. With a bored expression on his face, he put his bag on his shoulders with fuel container in hand, and he sets out south. Going in one direction would be better, he could easily make his way back.

Even with the constant cricket of bugs and the sound of moaning of walkers he'd pass through, Carl's mind seemed to rebel him; his thoughts going back to the girl that was tending to him in his restless dreams. But he figured that maybe it wasn't too bad, cause he remembered another variable he saw in his dream, and that was a recurve bow, lying just a few feet away from the blurry-faced girl.

That was something that he'd always get irritated by— how no matter how hard he squints his eyes until it makes his dream-self's mind hurt, the frosted vision of his never clears to see even a feature of her face.

From all his thinking, he didn't even realize the terrain his feet were walking on had changed. He comes across a small town a few minutes away, he never knew there was one—and how close it was to Alexandria. He'd be sure to tell his Dad about it later.

He walks through the empty streets, trying to find any sign that there could be gas somewhere, anywhere. With nothing to show for it, Carl thinks next best thing he should do is find food, pills, or anything at this point. He guesses he'll have to stay for a day, recoup and make a plan how to get back. Right now he was stranded in an abandoned town, at least he could try finding something, or somewhere to help him get through the night.

Carl decided a first stop wouldn't hurt to be a department store, but he bangs on the glass doors, waiting a few for any sign of walkers. When nothing happened, he pushes through the doors. Almost everything on the shelves were on the floor, but it looked to be all sealed.

Just like clockwork, he gets to checking the items on the shelves and puts a few items in his bag, then going on one of his knees to kneel and observe the dropped items— looking at labels seeing if it could still be usable. But before he could do anything more, he saw a singular figure passing by with a weapon he was sure engraved in his memory by now— a recurve bow. But through the frosted glass of the entrance, just like in his sleep— and just as fast as it came, the figure was gone.

His eyebrows furrowed— why would someone still be here? He swore there was no sign of life and no use to be here, the town was practically wiped of anything. Did he miss something? But more importantly— why did the figure have a recurve bow that looked exactly the same in his dreams? He needed to get to the bottom of this.

With a light pace, he opens the door to the creaky glass entrance as quiet as he could and goes to follow the person. He thinks it's a girl though, seeing a brief glimpse of their attributes, and no walker had normal footsteps and walked that brisk. He ensues his trail, wanting to find out— who was this girl?

Carl knows he shouldn't, he should turn back and keep looking for stuff he could use for tonight, but there was some kind of alluring aura— pulling him in and making him want more than just a passing view. He doesn't pay mind to how he should be looking for items to bring back to Alexandria, but that's a problem he'll cross later.

After a good while of walking, he's sure this girl had some kind of problem, 'cause she would've heard him by how many twigs and sticks he's stepped on. It's either she knows she's being followed by him, or she simply doesn't care. That conclusion eludes him.

But he guesses he should've have kept a vigilant eye as he said to his father last time he saw him, because once they made it in the dense forest, the girl's figure was getting harder and harder to spot. Maybe it's cause he's still adjusting to his new perspective with having one eye now, but focusing on one singular moving object through a mess of fauna is harder than it was last time he remembered.

But he had another problem to deal with now. One moment the girl was in his sights, then the next she was gone. It was like she was never there, and he was just following some kind of higher entity. He was dumbfounded, and it was prominent on his face. Maybe his eyesight was playing with him?

She was just there! Where could she have gone?

Before he could think anymore rhetorical questions, last thing he had seen with his vision before going black was him falling down. He knew it was a bad idea abandoning the town and following this stranger, but maybe he just dug himself a hole he couldn't get out of.

You were worried for your life, to put it short. You were just going through the town a walk away from the cabin, with just your recurve bow and your scavenging bag. You thought it would be a quick sweep, easy and light. But once you made it out of that town and started by going to the direction of your camp, you were starting to hear footsteps.

It was scary enough that it was constant, not stumbling or moaning behind you. But that was what worried you even more— if a walker wasn't behind you it was a person; and people were far more dangerous than walkers in this world.

Trying to steady you're breathing, you think what could you possibly do to get out if this predicament you're in. 'Should I run?' If I do, the person will probably run after me. 'I'll fight then.' But you aren't sure if their stronger than you, and you don't want to find out. 'Maybe sneak around him in the forest?' Your panicked thoughts ceased momentarily.

You could try, going back to the camp you'd get to a densely packed forest— and most probably you know the way around it more than the person behind you does.

Trying to steady your breathing, you grip your bow just a little tighter when you see the forest getting thicker. It's now or never. You walk a little more just to find somewhere you can sneak under, then acting on it when the moment's right.

You see him from behind, looking left and right for you, but you stop his movements by using the back of your bow to hit his head— not enough to add permanent injury, but enough to cause a major headache when he wakes up.

When his body falls to the ground, you're still in a hostile stance, but your actions soften when you realize he isn't getting up anytime soon.

With a careful hand, you turn him around on the ground by grabbing his shoulder. What's before your eyes slightly shocks you. It was just a boy— you're age, if not older than you. He had long soft hair, as if he had just showered not too long ago. You wonder how he kept it looking like that, especially with freshwater scarce now.

But what caught your attention the most was his bandage. It was wrapped around his forehead to help support the gauze on his eye. His eye. It was covered, but you could barely see peeking out of his bandage was slight scarring. What happened to this boy? It made you slightly guilty. Well, even more now that you realized his bandage was coming loose.

You were at a cross road, were you going to leave this boy in the middle of the woods where he doesn't even know the way out or which direction is which— or should you haul his ass back to your camp and take care of him? He was following you from the town into the forest, but he didn't look like he was raised to do heinous acts to a girl. He looked like he wouldn't hesitate to hurt you, but he also looked vulnerable, and undeniably— so adorable.

You couldn't deny it no matter how hard you tried. Even in this wretched apocalypse— you still had a soft spot for cute boys. But can you blame yourself? You've been by yourself for years, and he was the first boy from the handful of people you've seen from your time in the apocalypse that was genuinely attractive.

With a heavy heart and a deep sigh— you put your bat in your bag of scavenged stuff, then ready and stretch your muscles cause you're about to drag (from your analysis) a 5'7 weight back to your cabin.

You didn't expect he'd be so heavy, but with you forgetting to exercise and him being a teenage boy— you guess it wasn't all that surprising. When you get back to your camp, it's hard getting the door open.

But you push through and try your best to put him on your bed so he can at least get comfortable. When you pull back finally from that exhausting feat, you realize his bandage had come off. You guess it fell off from the journey of you dragging his weight back here, you didn't even notice it. but now you do.

You should be disgusted, but you weren't— you thought he got hurt. You were worried. Looking at it longer made you realize that this kid went through it, losing an eye and still living. One eye in the apocalypse and he's still alive? He was starting to get a lot more badass in your book.

But then your mind thinks that you should change his bandage, it fell off and the least you could do was replace it. Scrambling to find any of your medical supplies, you wonder what you're doing, running around trying to find clean medical supplies for a random stranger. But to you, it's all worth it when you have to get close to him to clean around his eye.

With a gentle hand, you lightly dab around his scarred skin, getting all the dirt and debris off that had accidentally made its way near the wound. You don't know why, but even with his scar as large as that— he's still so handsome. He must have won the genetics awards, cause to you he got the best of both worlds from his parents.

Going back to reality, you use your other hand to lift his head to wrap the bandage around him, using is to support the bandage now covering the scar. You take your time with it, subconsciously trying to touch his hair in the process. It makes you blush, knowing if your body was reacting like this when he was unconscioud, you don't know how you'll manage when he wakes up.

Oh. You need to be real with yourself for a minute. When he wakes up, he'll freak out because he's in an unknown place with a girl that knocked him out. He's going to panic.

You can't have that right now. Maybe you could restrain him? It sounds unethical, but you can't take any chances. Getting your rope, you grab both his wrists and tie them above his head to the headboard. You know it'll be uncomfortable for him, but you're not going to let him thrash around your house freely until he calms down.

You stand up from sitting on the edge of the bed, and open a sliver big enough to see through the curtains. With nightfall coming, it's getting cold. You look back at the unconscious boy, 'it wouldn't be so bad if I just covered him with a blanket, right?' Everything you're doing for the boy seems too nice to just be welcoming, but you don't want to pay attention to it anymore. Maybe you were going crazy.

Going back to where he was sitting, you take a folded blanket next to him and place it on his lower half. It's quite adorable, really— none of the blankets you had seemed to cover all of him (it barely even covered you too) so you just had to do with covering his lower half and a quarter of his upper half, barely meeting his torso.

With no more space on the bed, the edge seemed to be your only option. So you do, then just play with your fingers, thinking. From carrying that boy through the forest and in your camp— you're too tired to eat, and all you wanted to do was wait for the long-haired brunet to open his eyes— so you figured just tinkering around the room. You arrange your stuff, organize all the stuff you had found from your journey before this whole 'knocking-someone-out' debacle.

You were doing just about everything to pass the time, waiting for just any sign that the boy would wake. But you guess someone out there was listening to your thoughts as your head turns to the sound of faint moaning from the boy. You guess you were right to assume that he'd have a killer migraine when he would stir.

When he flutters his eyes open, he quickly lets his fight or flight control him as he wriggles around, you try to diffuse the situation.

"Hey— woah, calm down. Stop moving." You say, but it seems like it doesn't get to him when he just continues his actions, thrashing harder even.

You try to think of something to calm him, or make him stop moving around that is. Without thinking properly and with his panicking also influencing you, you grab his gun that you took from him when he was knocked out and pointed it right at his head.

"Listen, if you don't stop that i'll blow your fucking brains out. Get that?" Your threat had seemed to work partially, since he had stopped moving erratically. But what you don't understand is how his eyes soften. What the hell? this guy's for sure got something knocked out of his head when you hit him.

'What's with this guy?'

Carl thought he was dreaming. He felt relieved, confused, and a whole lot of pain from the back of his head all at the same time. His eyes really weren't deceiving him, the girl he saw pass by was actually you. The constant blurred haze in his vision wasn't there, and he saw it all the more clearly. He looked around, seeing the same wooden ceiling and posters— but what sealed the deal was that distinct recurve bow.

And you. Even in his blurred dreams, he could already tell you were enthralling, beautiful but fierce-eyed. However, now that he can see you all the more clearly, he thinks he may have understated you.

"Okay, you're weirding me out. First off, why the hell were you following me?" Your voice didn't the same enough bite it did at first, now just confused. You really were weirded out. You had threatened him just mere seconds ago, but now he was looking at you, like you were under a microscope, waiting to be observed. It made you a little self-conscious.

Carl knew he would sound ridiculous. 'I kept seeing you in my dreams.' Like the girl wouldn't be creeped out even more than she is right now. So he starts off vague.

"I thought I saw you somewhere. Sorry if it felt like I was creeping up on you." He figured it wouldn't be too bad to apologize now and get it out of the way.

". . . It's all cool," You say. "Not the uh, you— not you creeping up on me, but like— it's water under the bridge for me now, yeah?" You reiterate.

It's stupid. You feel stupid. Here you are stumbling over your words to a boy that you tied up in your cabin, it makes you feel like you're the one being tied up instead.

"Cool, thanks. But can you uh. . ." He waves his hands to gesture them. "Could you let me out of these?" Carl really wants to feel like he has freedom from his movement. It's one thing that you're actually talking and not just caring for him in his visions, but it'll be the nail in the coffin if he could move. Then he knows this isn't just a hyperrealistic dream he's having.

"I dunno. . ." You're genuinely thinking if you should or shouldn't cut him out of his ropes. "How can I be sure you won't hurt me the second I cut you out of those?" You nod at the knots around his wrists, they look like they aren't getting loose any time soon— no matter how childish the achievement is, you pat yourself on the back mentally.

"I promise I don't plan on hurting you, okay?" He tries to assure you. He really won't, he doesn't really don't know what to do even if he does get cut loose— it all seems too surreal.

"Also— even if I was going to, my head is pounding and I don't have the capacity to do anything but go through it." Carl said. His head wasn't just pounding, it was like someone was hammering into his skull— his head felt like it was gonna burst.

"Oh yeah, i'm sorry about that—" You get up and grab your bag, opening it to fiddle through it, before finally finding what you intended to give to him. "Have these, I couldn't really give it to you when you were. . . y'know? When you were knocked out and all that." Maybe your social skills weren't the best, but you were trying.

You showed him a pill bottle, with a weathered label that boldly spells out 'Ibuprofen'. He was thankful, you seemed just as clumsy and cute as you were in his dreams. You were stumbling, but you meant well.

"Thanks, but i'm still tied up, so. . ." His remark made you realize you were trying to give it to him but you forgot he was still in his restraints.

"Oh! Yeah, uh- sorry about that let me just—" You hover him, trying to cut the ropes that was tying him to the headboard.

Carl thought of himself as a respectful guy, he'll look the other way when something racy is infront of him, but it's hard to look any other way than in front of him when you were leaning slight above him, his eyes directly in level with your chest. He tries to just focus on how much the rope was uncomfortable and how it chafed against his skin— probably giving him rope burn when he looks at his wrists, anything else to focus on to stop the blood from flowing through his face.

"There, sorry about your wrists though." You finally pull away. Your knots were severely hard to cut through, something you'd have to remember just in case. Carl's thankful you seem so awkward and in thought, cause if you weren't, you'd notice how red his face had gotten.

"Yeah— uh. Thanks, for this— I mean." Carl takes the pill bottle you were giving to him, not ignoring how even just the brush of his fingers against yours feel like a dozen jolts going through his hands then to his heart.

"Why didn't you just leave me there? I was following you, surely you didn't think it was just the wind." Carl was curious, why did you let him follow you? he knows if he was being followed he'd get up and running through the woods in every direction if he was getting trailed, so why didn't you?

"If I left you there, i'd be as good as the people that don't deserve to live in this world." That and also how you couldn't just leave such a cute boy alone in the woods, but you think you should keep that to yourself. "Also, your bandage came off so," You gesture with a nod to his bandage.

"I changed it for you. Your welcome, I guess." You finish off, not really sure if he was comfortable about the topic, so you'd tried to keep it quick and straight to the point.

His facial expression goes icy and touches the bandage on his damaged eye, and just as you had said, you had changed it. But that wasn't what he was worried about. You saw him? No, you couldn't. He looked monstrous, abnormal— but you seemed unphased. You were getting all the more interesting. He was curious to find out more and more about you.

"Don't I look hideous to you?" Even from meeting mere moments ago, it felt so easy to get vulnerable with you. Like you had known him for longer than you actually did. Maybe it was because he knew you for much longer than you knew, but he digresses.

"Hideous? Oh God no!—" You laugh at his question, you look at him with a small smile growing on your lips. He looks at you, muddled.

"You look fucking cool, dude. Don't think about it too much." You were being sincere. You really did think he looked badass. He shouldn't feel insecure about it, especially when it made him look so tough.

Your answer made him seem to relax, less apprehensive and more— calm. Calm. That's what he calls it. That feeling he always felt when he saw you in his dreams seemed to carry on to the real you. It made his heart relax, going into a steady rhythm.

"Thanks." Carl didn't want to keep saying the same thing all over again, but he can't help it. Whenever he looks at you all over again, and knowing you think that— that he looked cool, not anything else— all the words his mind had remembered were turned into nothing, just plain word vomit.

"It's nothing. Uh. . . Oh! I'm uh— I'm Y/N, by the way." Not wanting to seem rude, you reach your hand out— gesturing for a handshake. Even in the apocalypse, you couldn't help but keep up with your manners. Carl thought it was silly, but in a good way.

Carl looks at your hand then back at you, hesitating— before reciprocating the gesture. Grabbing your hand firmly and shaking it softly.

"Carl." The boy you'd been nursing had finally had a name to him. Carl. You couldn't help but think it suits him, but you shake that thought.

"You know— for a person who knocked me out first time we saw each other, I'd think you wanna be friends." Carl jokes. Under all that playfulness in his tone, he really did want to be your friend. More than that even, but he'll keep that locked in his mind for now. The boy wanted to know more about the girl he'd been seeing every time he went to sleep. You made him curious, something he rarely ever felt.

"Yeah! Heh. . . Sorry about that again," You apologize. "It's getting late, you should sleep in. Those painkillers I gave you can only do so much to help your headache." You get up and grab another blanket next to him.

Carl stood up straight. "Hey wait— ugh." He groaned in pain and frustration and grabs his head from the pain in his head from moving too fast. Okay, maybe he didn't think that through. But he'd be stupid if he let the literal girl of his dreams sleep on the floor. "Let me sleep there, okay? I'm the one intruding." He tries standing up, but the only he achieved was stumbling up a little and sitting back down.

"What? No–! Absolutely not." You scoff, grabbing his shoulders, firm and stubbornly.

"I can't let you sleep on the hardwood floor, Carl. You're hurt. And that's bad guest etiquette, Especially when you feels like your head's cracked open." You say. Even with all you said, all Carl could focus on was when you said his name. It flowed so serenely out of your mouth, like it belonged. He didn't know why, but he wanted to hear it more from you.

"You can't be serious." Despite Carl being in pain, the sassy tone he always had when talking could never be covered by it.

"Just stop trying to be a gentleman right now and just focus on getting better," You uttered to him, with a tone that spoke you didn't want anything else and this was final. "Got it?" Carl liked this side of you, even with you pointing a gun at his face, all he could think about was how it was pretty charming.

Something he never really got to experience in his dreams— and realized he liked about you— was your bossy tone. Although, it couldn't really be called demanding if the person saying it didn't have anything to back it up. In the end, it just made you look endearing, trying to seem all authoritarian.

"I'll try." He sighed, before laying back down on the bed— with you copying his actions, taking your bag then putting it next to the bed. You had laid down, fluffing the backpack like a pillow and opening your blanket, scrunching into a ball to cover most of your body.

"Goodnight, Carl. Sorry for knocking you out." You said before turning the other way and shutting your eyes. Carl slowly looked at the your lying figure, before deciding to sleep also.

". . . I— Goodnight, Y/N." Carl said, before turning the other way. That was the first time he said your name. Without even knowing it, he said your name so softly. Even if you don't want it to, it makes your cheeks flush. You're happy you turned the other way, you don't want him to possibly see you blush just 'cause he said your name.

Carl fell asleep faster than he normally would. Maybe it was the painful headache he had, or was it because he was next to you? He'd rather not think about it, it'll add more fuel to the fire of questions he already had about the girl. But as fast he fell asleep, he woke up just as quick as well. With fluttering eyes, getting used to the blinding light that was seeping through the curtains, his eyes adjusted to the scene.

He looked around— and just like yesterday, it was all still the same. Same house, same bed, and the same pounding headache he had. Now he was sure he wasn't dreaming. But the one thing he was trying to find wasn't there just like he expected to. You weren't there.

Where did you go? Carl slowly stood up and put a hand to his head. You were right, it'll hurt worse than it did yesterday. He was starting to internally panic. He was silently praying, begging for a sign that you were real. Anything just so he could believe what he experienced yesterday wasn't just his imagination.

But before he can scour his mind for answers on where you were, it's like you heard him— pleading in his mind that you would show up, just to see you again. You opened the door, then closed it shut. Your movements halting when you see him standing now, looking at you, visibly worried. 'What happened to him while I was away?'

"Are you okay? You look anxious." You put what you were holding— a water container and your bow on the table in the cabin and walked closer to him.

"Yeah, I— I was just wondering where you went." He cleared his throat and put his hands in his pockets. He had never really talked to a girl his age before other than Enid, but this was different. He was talking to a girl he actually liked. So given that, his social skills were at an all time low.

"I was getting more water. You were worried about that?" You were starting to grow a smile. He was getting worried about you, and for whatever reason, that made your heart feel fuzzy and mind go blank.

"Where'd you put my gun?" Carl dodged the question. He'd rather not get into him getting troubled about his dream girl right now, so he wanted to know where his weapon was. He patted himself down, trying to look more preoccupied.

"Huh, yeah sure. It's in here." You dismissed your teasing tone, getting his gun out of your bag. "I wasn't sure if you'd attack me when I get home, so I just brought it with me. Take it." You hold the barrel in you hand, holding it out to him.

Carl pauses, before taking it and observing the gun, releasing the magazine from the chamber and checking its ammo before putting it back and placing it in his holster.

"Thanks." He sees you moving back to the table.

"Where are you going?" He asks. It confuses you, what did he mean by that? "I'm. . . getting my bow?" You say as if it was the most obvious thing ever. What is he trying to say?

"No— I know that. I mean like where are you going after," He gestures with his head to the whole cabin they were in. "This?"

Your body freezes, why would he ask you that? Did he want to come with you? You scratch the back of your neck in boredom, before answering his question.

"I dunno? I just keep moving. That's all I ever do. Nothing I ever stay in holds up, so better stay safe than sorry." Your answer gives him an idea. Maybe you could stay with him in Alexandria?

"This is sudden, and we just met briefly yesterday but," He looks at you intently. "Do you want to come with me? We have a place, it has walls and a home. You could stay with us." Us? There were more of him? How lucky was he that he had people that were trustworthy around him that he could confidently deem where he was as safe?

You think about it. You really needed a safe place to stay, and he seemed focused on letting you come with him. But you didn't want to trust him fully yet. You know better than to just blindly trust people in this world.

"Take me out for dinner first, geez—" You quip. You want to come with him, but you're still on the fence about everything. "I'll think about it. For now, i'll stay here. M'kay?"

You decide that maybe he'd want to visit you, but you suggest it just in case he was thinking something else. "You can visit me anytime, cowboy." Saying that, you grab the hat he was wearing first time you met and put it in his grasp.

He looked at his hands with the hat, and you. He was still kind of sad you didn't want to come with him, but he understood why. He was still a stranger, no less. But with you saying you didn't mind that he could visit you whenever made him feel a little more chipper than usual.

"I will." He smiled at you and put his hat on. "I'll get going now, the people where i'm from are probably scared shitless about me." Carl was telling the truth— Rick probably was tearing anyone apart just to find where his son was right now. You laughed a little at that. Still, it made him feel good knowing he made you laugh, be it a small one but a laugh still.

"Sure, your stuff's next to the door." You point to where his bag is. "I didn't take anything, don't worry." And just as he looked through the bag, your words had ringed to be right.

And he sees something else; it was a map showing your cabin and the way back to the town you both were in. He looks at you, and even with the uncomfortable hammering in his head he still needed to see you again. But he remembers he really should back to Alexandria.

"Thanks. I'll come back for you." His words were light, but it was more than that. It was a promise to you, whether you wanted to acknowledge that it was or not. It made you giddy, he'd be coming back for you.

"Well, when you do—" Walking up to him close, "You know where to find me." You take his other hand and open it, putting in a protein bar before closing his palm. You gave it to him, just a goodbye souvenir. It was a throwaway though, only giving it to him so he could have something so he could eat (but you actually just want him to think about you when he eats it).

"And i'll know where to look." He gazes down at you, relaxed from just seeing you. You were actually real. "See you." He smiles at you. Carl's heart felt like it was going soft, all from you and your fleeting touches— gentle and caring. Your teasing tone and nature made him feel like he wants to stay here forever, never wanting it to end.

But he knows he'll have to wait, going out the door and waving back to you. You wave back and go back to what you were doing. He's overjoyed— the dream girl he always wondered who was, was you.

He swore he'd make you come with him, but all he had to do was wait. This wasn't going to be the last time you see each other— because he isn't going to let his dream girl go that easily, not this time, not ever again.

I didn't even realize how long I made this one! wowiee this was such a cute fic, i'll make a part 2 to this, let me know if you want one ! also might take me until next week to make a part 2 to "so high", just figuring some school stuff out :3 ✮⋆˙

tags : @carlslvr @shadowybasementmiracle

wanna be tagged the next time I post my fics? let me know ꩜ .ᐟ

#carl grimes #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x reader #the walking dead #twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x y/n #the walking dead x reader #carl grimes x you #twd x reader #𓂃🖊 — florette's fics

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withloveajaxx · 2 years ago

Text

are you forgetting something?

𓂅 genre: modern! childe, scaramouche, diluc, and xiao x gn! reader fluff

𓂅 warnings: none

𓂅 summary: how they react when you forget to kiss them or say "i love you" back to them before you leave

𓂅 notes: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONEE. here's some smol hcs to kick off 2023 hehe. i've never really written for scaramouche before so forgive me if his characterization is a little off for this fic :"D i'm trying to slowly get back into writing for genshin so i'm going with a classic, fluffy crack prompt that i've always felt like writing ^^ hope you guys enjoy and have a wonderful day ahead!!

CHILDE

he's dropping you off at your friend's house for your little night out and your rushing to belatedly make yourself a little more presentable

childe can't help but chuckle when you turn to him asking, "what do you think? do i look alright?"

"you look beautiful as always, love. now go get in there before your late."

he leans his cheek closer to you, expecting a goodbye peck when you open the door to get out. "take care and call me when you need to get picked up, alright?" when you hum in response he adds, "love you!"

"yup! see you, ajax!" you reply, getting out and shutting the door. at this, childe is offended, jaw dropping at the lack of a reply and a kiss.

he thinks this is completely unacceptable. mans literally honks his horn aggressively until you come back to the car, brows furrowed in wordless confusion.

"excuse me?" he questions you, rolling down the window with a faux pout on his lips as he crosses his arms over his chest. "are you forgetting something?"

cheeky bastard taps his cheek with raised brows in part question and part demand. "i said i love you too, you know?"

you can't help but laugh at his absurd behaviour, leaning into the window to finally plant a kiss on his awaiting cheek. his charming smile finally makes its way back onto his features when you accompany your gesture with a, "love you too."

"mhm. now get in there and have fun. i'll see you later, love.". he can't help the slight blush that dusts his freckle filled cheeks when you peck him one last time, just for good measure, before heading inside the house. god he was so whipped for you.

SCARAMOUCHE

when you're rushing to leave your shared apartment for a class you were running late for one day, scara is suffering on the couch with his laptop on, research document open and empty.

he eyes you as you're rushing to gather all your bags and other belongings, making sure you don't trip or hurt yourself in a rush from a distance.

once you finally have all your things, you turn to see scara, who is already glaring at the blank document on his laptop.

in usual fashion, he hears you greet him a goodbye with, "i'm heading out now. see you later, kuni."

in an unusual fashion however, he doesn't hear the familiar and cheerful "i love you!" that escapes your lips once you open the door.

he coughs loudly and repeatedly when you put even a single foot out the door and levels you with a look that screams "are you stupid?"

"what?" you ask him obliviously, rechecking all your bags and documents before also asking, "am i forgetting something?"

"yeah. a really important thing," he comments with an unreadably, deadpan face. when a confused silence is all he gets in reply, he sighs, narrowing his eyes at you with a light blush blooming across his cheeks.

"don't make me say it.". it's only then that you realize what you forgot, smiling and laughing lightheartedly with amusement.

"you're cute kuni." his cheeks flush brighter at the statement. "i love you and take care!". he returns your greeting with an exasparated sigh and a light nod before you go rushing out the door, unable to witness the smallest smile that creeps onto his lips.

DILUC

it's a daily routine for you guys to get ready for school/work together and greet each other with a goodbye kiss once you part ways.

on a particular day when you had a really important presentation, the walk to your usual parting point was enveloped in a comfortable silence.

diluc simply held your hand and let you practice your presentation, muttering unintelligible words and phrases under your breath.

when you finally get to parting ways, diluc takes a moment to encourage you for your presentation.

"good luck with your speech today, darling. i know you can do it. i'll see you when i get home alright?"

you nod absentmindedly, smiling before routinely pecking diluc's cheek. "mhm. have a good day, luc."

when you start to walk away, he grabs your wrist gently and unexpectedly, turning you to face him once more.

"yes, luc?" you ask curiously, intertwining your fingers with his own gingerly.

"you're forgetting something, love," he chuckles lightly, squeezing your intertwined hands gently. "i love you."

a soft smile adorns both your features as you give diluc a lingering kiss before replying with your own "i love you", regrettingly parting ways afterwards.

XIAO

both you and xiao are walking into the school's campus. after a mundane lunch, it was time for both of you to part ways and get to classes.

he accompanies you to your class, walking with you hand in hand in the school's surprisingly free hallways.

the short stroll is accompanied by a comfortable silence, the lack of a crowd of students creating a peaceful atmosphere.

it's only when you arrive at your lecture hall that xiao loosens his hold on your hand, gesturing for you to go inside.

your friends are excitedly waving at you from the other side of the hall, thus you hurry to get to them.

"i'll see you later, okay?" you squeeze his hand reassuringly before looking at your friends with a glimmer of excitement. "bye, xiao!"

the moment you let go of his hand without your usual goodbye kiss or at least an 'i love you', his hand subconsciously reaches out for yours once again.

thankfully, you take notice of his action and turn to him once more with a quizzical look on your face. "is something wrong?" you ask him.

he wants to say something about you forgetting to give him a kiss but the thought of saying something so sappy makes his face heat up in embarrassment. you can tell he wants to say something by the unsure look in his eyes, but he holds himself back, shaking his head. "nothing. you should head to class."

the blush gives him off entirely because you can read him like an open book. his heart skips multiple beats when you lean in and plant a brief kiss on his cheek with a wide smile. "there. love you, and see you later, okay?". his cheeks flare up even more as he replies, "mhm. love you too…"

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whimsyfinny · 9 months ago

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 1762

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

——————————————————————

I'm Not Your F*cking Maid

Please read Prologue before starting.

Chapter 1

I sat in the window booth at the typical sleepy diner, tapping my fingers on the sticky wooden table and checking the time on my phone every minute. She was late. She was never late. And now I’m getting worried. I’m sure she’s fine, I had convinced myself as I reached for my backpack and pulled out an old tome on burial rights over various different cultures. I might as well read to distract myself whilst I wait for her to arrive. I try to relax into the monotone ambience of the room, and just as I get settled into the scrawling text on the ancient pages, a growling engine pulling up outside draws my gaze away from the long paragraph on ‘Cremation’. I return my attention back to the book after a second as the engine ticks over outside for a few more beats before being turned off. The waitress returns to my table to collect the empty beer bottle I’d drained when I first arrived; she smiled and asked if she could get me anything.

“Just another one of those please,” I smiled back, hearing the bell ring as the front door opened and my gaze jumped from the waitress to Charlie as she came skipping towards where I was sitting, sliding into the booth opposite me.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I’m late, I had an errand to run and it took waaaayyy longer than expected.”

“It’s ok, I was starting to get a little worried so I’m just glad you’re alright….” I felt my voice trail off as I felt the booth cushion dip as someone sat next to me. I whipped my head around and came nose-to-nose with a man I’d never met before; with the most enticing green eyes I’d ever gazed into and annoyingly kissable lips pulling into a devilish smirk. Just as those lips parted to speak, I blurted out without thinking:

“Who the fuck are you?”

He blinked in slight shock, and paused like he was rethinking what he was going to say. He opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted a second time.

“Dean, don’t sit so close,” another man, who I didn’t even realise was there, had sat down next to Charlie. He was taller, with impressive hair and softer features than this Dean guy, who was practically sitting in my lap and eyeing me up and down. Dean gave this other man a look as if to say ‘shut up’, before turning to me once more, devilish grin back in place. He opened his mouth to speak a third time right as the waitress returned with my beer.

“Here you are,” she said sweetly, not knowing she was interrupting as Dean threw his hands up in defeat at not being able to get a word in, slumping back in the chair. The waitress put the bottle down in front of me.

“Can I get anything for your friends?” She looked around the table and before either of the men could answer, Charlie jumped in;

“Three very strong coffees please.”

Dean huffed, “Oh so I can’t even order a beer?”

“You two boys have been living on pizza and beer for God knows how long. At least drink something that contains some water,” Charlie quipped, looking at them both like they were naughty children. She sighed when she realised they looked slightly ashamed of themselves. “Anyway, (Y/n), this is Sam and Dean. I know you’ve been looking for work and these two might be able to help. They’re good friends of mine and they’re-“

“Hunters,” I interrupted, feeling my blood start to run cold, “yeah I know who they are. Winchesters,” the name felt bitter on my tongue, like poison.

They must have noticed the change of tone in my voice because the table went quiet, even the mischievous glint seemed to have gone from Deans gaze as he looked at me with intrigue. Annoyed at myself for not realising who they were sooner, I grabbed my backpack and unzipped it, packing away my book. I stood up and glared down at Dean, about to bark at him to move when Charlie grabbed my wrist.

“(Y/n) what’s wrong? What are you doing? Please don’t go, we…they could really use your help right now.”

“And why should I? They’re the reason I’m struggling in the first place,” I paused, staring down at the two men who now had dark, ashamed expressions cloaking their features, almost like this wasn’t the first time they’d heard this side of the story where they weren’t always the hero’s. “They’re the reason my family is dead, and I’m all alone.” More silence hung over the booth like a dark cloud. It was Sam who spoke up after a minute or so, genuine sorrow in his eyes.

“(Y/n) I’m so, so sorry. Who-”

“Bobby Singer.”

The Winchester brothers shot each other a stunned look.

“B-Bobby?” Sam stuttered whilst Deans eyes widened. He looked like he’d taken a blow to the chest and had the air knocked from his lungs, “We didn’t know he had any living relatives…”

“He was my uncle,” Deans jaw clenched, “And you guys didn’t know because he knew I’d end up being used against him. I collected books for him to help you guys on all your bullshit missions, so haven’t I already helped you enough? Don’t you owe me some peace?” I threw my bag on the floor and picked up my beer, taking several gulps before slamming it back onto the table before continuing, the words just spilling out. “He was my only living relative for as long as I can remember. So fuck you guys for taking him away from me.”

“We loved Bobby,” Dean spoke suddenly in a grave tone and his gaze went dark as he stood up to face me. His tall form with strong, broad shoulders loomed over my much smaller stature, one of his fingers jabbing into my chest.

“Dean-” Sam started but was silenced by a wave of Deans other hand.

“You can get down off your high fucking horse if you think that you’re the only family that he had. You weren’t. He raised us more than our own father did, and I’ll be damned if I don’t think about him every day and wish he was here. You’re not the only one grieving him so stop acting like a precious little bitch and grow up,” Deans voice grew louder and more pissed as he spoke, and with every word he spoke he got closer and closer until he was right in my face, our noses almost touching. My heart rate was starting to pick up and I could feel the anger start to boil in my veins. Without missing a beat I threw my fist out and punched him in the face, making him stumble out of the booth and into the aisle in the diner. I heard gasps around me but didn’t look up. When the anger in my veins didn’t fade with the single punch, I didn’t give him a chance to gain his composure as I tackled him, making him fall on his back as I straddled him, my knees gripping his hips as I began punching him again and again right in that stupid face of his. Charlie and Sam seemed to sit there in disbelief for a few seconds before springing into action and lifting me off the older Winchester brother. Sam held me back gently but firmly as Charlie helped Dean to his feet, handing him a napkin from the table for the blood pouring from his nose and lip.

“You crazy bitch!” Dean spat.

“Fuck you!” I tried to break free so I could slap him but Sam held me tight.

The whole diner had gone silent as they watched me lose my shit, some amused but most were horrified. It took a few more moments of silence before they all went back to what they were doing and Sam let go of me, watching me like I was a time bomb. I heard Charlie giggle quietly.

“Holy crap (Y/n) I had no idea you had that in you. I’m actually a little impressed, you were always so quiet.”

“What can I say,” I turned to glare at Dean “I learnt from the best,” as I turned away I heard him mutter under his breath.

“Yeah you aren’t the only one.”

For a second time I saw red, and before Sam could grab me I spun on my heel and threw my fist out. CRACK.

The car doors slammed closed next to me after I was crammed into the back of Deans car. It wouldn’t have been that bad - the seats were oh so plush - if it wasn’t for the handcuffs tight round my wrists and duct tape across my lips. Oh, and that my thigh was rubbing up against the man that I had just assaulted. Dean was in the same situation with the handcuffs and the tape, his long legs having to spread wide so he can fit in the back of his own car. I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my face as I watched Sam and Charlie apologising to the diner staff through the front window. I was trying to find any sort of distraction right now, as Deans body temperature was hot and I could feel it through both his jeans and mine as he pressed into me. He was starting to make me sweat a little. Luckily it wasn’t long before Charlie and Sam hopped into the car, Sam in the drivers seat. They both turned to face us, smiles of bewilderment on their faces as if they were still processing what had just happened. Sam spoke first.

“(Y/n) is now officially barred from that diner, and honestly they wanted to call the cops. Charlie managed to save your ass as she still had her FBI badge on her,” he shot her a look and she grinned.

“So because now, you technically owe me a debt of gratitude, you will be staying in the bunker with the boys and helping them with their research.” She chimed, like she had won a game. In the end they got what they wanted.

I groaned and rolled my eyes. Of course. I heard Dean huff next to me, and he sounded just as displeased as I did. To be honest at this point, that’s fair.

Although he had it coming.

——————————————————————

Up Next

Chapter 2

#dean x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean x female!reader

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binniesbooks · 2 months ago

Note

hi fayebae(again), clearly our convo from insta got to my head, once again feeding ur soobin delulu(that's what I'm here for) bf!soobin x reader! (soobin and reader is dating and are living together)

it was mayb a few days before your cycle, which meant that you were hornier than usual. you waited for soobin to get home from work until you fell asleep. let's say your horny thoughts were really apparent as while you were having wet dreams, your moans were also happening in real time. and that's what soobin came back to. you moaning his name, asking him to fuck you deeper.

soobin couldn't hold back his thoughts either, and ended up joining you in bed. he starts leaving kisses along your prominent jawline, which he loved so much, until he reached your mouth, giving you soft pecks to wake you up from your slumber.

you were shocked when you realized that everything happening in your dream was happening to you in real time.

"wanna tell me what you were dreaming of? i heard you moaning my name and I want in on it." soobin said

(you alr know!! SMUT SMUT SMUT LETS GO hehe i hope it awakes smth in you gahh <33) enjoy~

• ENGAGEMENT RING

SB 000 .F23 2024

wc 2.9k

pairings officeworkerbf!Soobin x ovulatingfem!reader

warnings slight fingering, edging, marking, breeding kink, cum play, mention of marriage (+ anything I've missed)

faye's note this would be special for my fellow moas who has sharp features like me. (I think this fic would come out a little bit biased than the others, please don't roast me 😖 I have a prominent jawline, and she's just feeding my delusions these past few weeks 😭😂) I just had to do it. Nevertheless, I hope you still enjoy this one, please just disregard the personalized features 😖😖😖)

"Bin, seriously! My back hurts so damn much," you groaned as you tried massaging your back for the nth time today.

Your body has been aching for a while now as your cycle was nearing. And there were no other symptoms to check, other than your aching lower back and a pounding headache.

Soobin was panicking, again. He doesn't know what to do first. Should he check on the food that he was cooking, answer the ringing phone, or attend to your needs?

You chuckled as you watched him pace around, not knowing what to do.

"Turn off the stove first, loverboy. Then answer the phone." You were now sprawled out on the couch. You tried your best to stretch, straighten, and relax your back. It just felt like you were being torn into two.

"Yes, I sent it already. All right. Let's check it tomorrow." Soobin was speaking to someone on the phone. Maybe his manager?

"Is something wrong?" you asked when he hangs up.

Soobin hums, sitting down on the couch in the free space just above your head.

"I think my manager misplaced, no, probably deleted the file I sent him," he said, gently stroking your hair.

You moved up a bit, making his thigh a makeshift pillow as you nuzzled your face against his abdomen.

"You're gonna go out early tomorrow then?" Your voice muffled with his shirt as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

"Looks like it," he sighs. "Lay on your stomach, I'll give you a massage," he adds.

"Dun' wanna," you pout, burying your face more in his abdomen.

"Come on, little bun," he coos, still running his fingers through your hair.

You eventually gave up. Especially since you were feeling so sore and achy in your lower back. Soobin gave you a massage just enough to ease the pain in your back. Not too much pressure, not too little.

After eating dinner and watching him do the dishes—he doesn't want you to do it, of course—you trudged your way to the bathroom. You wanted a warm bath. And a warm bath should be shared by two, right?

"Soobin," you warned. Soobin was planting wet kisses on your shoulder as you two were soaked in the water. The tub is overflowing as you two move.

"Yes, little bun," he answered innocently as he grinned.

"I wanted to relax," you said, rolling your eyes as you leaned on his chest, your head resting on his shoulder.

"Relax then. I know you're cycle is near, I just want you closer to me," Soobin muttered under his breath as he wrapped his arms around you. Your eyes were closed, relaxed from the steam coming from your warm bath, until you felt a wet, cold, slimy thing touch your skin.

"Hmm, Soob..." Your voice came out soft and whiny.

Soobin continued kissing and licking your shoulder. His kisses became open-mouthed as they traveled up to your neck.

"Fuck, Bin h-hah..." you squirmed, clutching his hand that was wrapped around you, tilting your head sideways to give more access to your neck.

"Ahh!" You yelped as you felt him sucking on your skin. His tongue is dancing across the red mark on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.

"Bin, please..." He knows you want more. He could feel it. Five years of dating isn't nothing, he totally knows you now. What you want and what you don't.

Soobin pulled away, rubbing the mark with his finger. "Let's go and dry up, we might end up catching a cold," he announced.

"Soobin!" You screamed when he got out of the tub and grabbed the towels. He was silently smiling to himself. He got you all worked up, only leaving you wanting more.

After slipping on your pajamas, you quickly buried yourself in bed. Creating a huge distance between the two of you, pouting at what he just did.

Soobin stretched his hand out to reach your waist, trying to pull you closer. You swat his hand and place your pillows between the two of you. "Don't get any closer, I hate you," you pouted. Soobin only chuckled at you. He didn't move, and you fell into a deep slumber.

You woke up with a warm feeling on your cheeks. You snuggled closer to what you thought was your pillow, but weren't pillows supposed to be soft? They are in no way hard at all. You couldn't remember a time when you had a hard and warm pillow.

You opened your eyes to meet a shirtless man—your boyfriend. You were snuggled close to him, with his arm acting as your pillow. But his arm wasn't on your waist, it was just laying on his own waist.

"Hey Mr. Bunny, didn't I tell you not to get close to me?" You gently poked his chest, causing him to groan as he woke up.

"Hmm?" Soobin hums, clueless as to what was happening.

"I said, I told you not to get close to me, and you're even shirtless," you nagged.

"Excuse me, Miss Ma'am, you were the one who snuggled close to me, in this hot season at that." He yawns, his voice deep, hoarse, and sleepy.

"Why would I do that?" You questioned, still angry about last night.

"You don't believe me, don't you?" he chuckled, "Check the CCTV."

Your eyes flew towards the CCTV on the corner ceiling, flashing a small red light, almost invisible to bare eyes. You clicked your tongue, you know that CCTV footage could stand as big evidence.

"I hate you, Bin," you muttered, burying your face in his neck as you ran your hands along his fairly toned chest and abs before wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Mhm, I love you too, little bun," he said, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.

"What do you want for breakfast?" You asked, still feeling his body warmth radiating off of him.

"Little bun, I want some morning sex," he whispered, gently stroking your hair.

"Don't joke around like that. You're not the one to want those types of things." You pinched his waist as he chuckled, wincing from your pinch.

"You need to get up now, you're going out, right? I'll cook something for breakfast real quick." You sat down on the edge of your bed, fixing your hair. Soobin only sprawled his whole body on the bed. "Wake me up when breakfast is ready, I still want to sleep." His lips were pouty as he uttered his plea.

You gently tapped Soobin's shoulder to wake him up. "Bin. Wake up now, you're gonna be late," you whispered. Soobin grunts and only stirs for a bit before continuing to sleep.

"Loverboy, wake up now." You dipped your head down, kissing his shoulder.

Soobin's eyes flutter with your warm lips touching his fair skin. He smiles to himself, realizing you're giving him shoulder kisses.

Soobin turns, pulling you in for a kiss and a tight hug. Getting up to start preparing for the day.

"I'll get going now, little bun. Take care of yourself, 'mkay? I love you, sweetie," Soobin kissed the tip of your nose before closing the front door. You heard the car engine switch up and the faint sound as he drove away.

You plopped down on the couch, watching your favorite show, when your doorbell rang.

It's not Soobin, you're sure. He never rings the doorbell.

You peeked outside from the window, and you saw a delivery guy standing in front of your house. You open the door slightly, keeping the chain lock intact, just to be sure. You don't want your boyfriend to come home and find you dead.

"Ma'am there's delivery for Mr.... Choi Soobin?" The delivery guy reads the package. It was a small box. "Please sign here as you receive the package," he added.

You thanked the delivery guy and watched him stride away before locking your door.

You sat on the couch once again, turning off the TV as you searched for a cutter or a pair of scissors in the drawer just beside your couch.

You carefully cut the package. It's not yours, but Soobin never questioned you, even when you kept opening his packages. At least he knows it's safe.

You opened the small box, and a shiny little piece of jewelry was neatly sitting inside the box. Your initials and his surname were written in small letters, on a pendant.

You smiled, chuckling to yourself as you wore the necklace and took a picture of yourself. Your jawline was prominent as you looked sideways, taking multiple shots to send him.

Loverboy <3

You: I just received a package, loverboy. I love you :* [5 image attached]

Loverboy: Oh, I even forgot that. That's supposed to be my gift to you, but it was shipped so late. It looks pretty on you, little bun. You're so pretty. I love you so much :)

You felt so excited wearing the necklace, however, your shared apartment always felt empty whenever Soobin was out. It was boring. It was plain. It was just a building whenever he was out—a complete contrast to a home whenever he was with you inside.

After you've completed the chores you were supposed to do, eating your late lunch, and sneaking in an ice cream, the food coma kicks in.

You felt so sleepy, so you headed inside your room. "I'm just gonna take a small nap and wait for him," you muttered, scrolling through your phone to shake off your sleepiness.

You stopped scrolling when you saw a video in your gallery—it was Soobin, and it was a mirror shot. He's shirtless, only wearing his work slacks, and you were on his lap, his dress shirt only draped over your shoulder.

And you were reminded once again about last night. How he kept on fueling your heat only to leave you unsatisfied.

Your ovulation wasn't helping either. Feeling a lot more horny than usual. Especially with your boyfriend being as hot as freshly made bread.

You're body felt on fire as you clicked the video, he was moaning as you kept grinding above him. You played it so many times that it even served as a lullaby to you, slowly lulling you to sleep.

You didn't know how long you were asleep. It was only supposed to be an afternoon nap, but you haven't woken up yet. You didn't even notice the sound of the engine turning off in your garage. Nor the click of the key on the front door. And even the opening of the door to your bedroom.

Soobin watched your sweaty figure sleeping on the bed. Your brows are creasing, your fingers are twitching, and you are clutching the sheets. Small whines and soft whimpers are coming out of your mouth.

His eyes caught the phone warning for a low battery. Soobin swiped on the phone, almost throwing it back to the bed with how hot the phone was. The short video is on replay.

"Soobin..." His head snaps towards your figure as he watches you squirm.

"B-bin... More. N-need you..." You were whimpering. Soobin felt his tiredness suddenly melt away as he felt his cock twitch underneath his pants.

"Please... Deeper ohh, fuck..." Your moans were so soft that they made his stomach twist. You sounded so subby.

Soobin sat beside your sleeping figure, gently caressing your cheeks. Carefully putting away your hair strands, that were stuck against your sweaty forehead.

"Mmmph!" Your head turns to the side, as you rub your thighs together.

Soobin couldn't hold it any longer either. He dipped his head down, kissing your exposed and prominent jawline.

This was only one of the things he really loved about you. Your unique features. Your sharp facial feature completely contrasted with your soft heart.

Your breathy moans made the hair on his nape stand up, it felt too arousing for him. Especially how your lips were being caught between your teeth as you kept on clutching on the sheets.

Quickly slipping out of his buttoned shirt, he bends down once again, gently grabbing both of your wrists to pin them above your head as he continues to kiss your jawline. Soobin left pretty marks on the junction of your neck and shoulder, making him more worked up as your moans got more high-pitched.

His lips move back to your jawline, and he pulls back a little to hover above you, giving you small pecks on your lips as he slowly grinds above you. His hard and throbbing cock felt choked inside his pants.

Your eyes flutter open, grunting at the heavy feeling. Your eyes are meeting his pretty ones.

"Wanna... Wanna tell me what're you dreaming about, little bun? Hm?" Soobin asked, staring down at you, brushing his tongue over his red lips.

"You keep on moaning my name, it's making me feel aroused, you know," he grunts, bucking his hips.

"B-bin?" Your eyes widened, realizing this was not a dream. The real deal was already in front of you, no, above you, rather.

"Yes, pretty. The owner of the name you k-kept on moaning, hah..." His hips started rolling again as his eyes caught the dainty chain wrapped around your neck. "You look beautiful, it suits you," he muttered, barely above a whisper.

"Please," you whined, feeling his hardness pressing on you.

"You don't have to beg this time, I'll gladly give it to you." Soobin pressed on your wrists above your head with only a single hand, while the other travels down your body, feeling your curves.

"My beautiful lady." You bit your lower lip as you looked at him in the eye, doe eyes pleading for more intimate skin contact.

"L-let's get married, soon. I n-need you to carry my babies," he stutters as blush crept on his cheeks.

You nodded, wanting to be with him forever and build a family together.

"Are you on the pill?" he asked, unzipping his pants with a single hand.

"N-no," you whispered. "There's a condom in the draw--"

"Can we do it raw? Fuck, please." His hand is now pulling your pajama shorts away. "Please, baby. Let's do it raw, please," he begs.

You felt the swirl of butterflies in your stomach. You haven't seen this side of Soobin yet. It feels new yet excitingly familiar. Being with Soobin, he had always practiced safe sex. Begging you to take the pill every time and always check to see if there's still a condom left.

"O-okay loverboy. Let's have it your way." You smiled at him, nodding.

Soobin lets go of your wrists, making you wrap one hand around his nape and the other on his back.

"You can be as wild as you want, bun."

Soobin slides in slowly, making you feel raw for the first time. It felt so different. You could feel every vein and curve of his cock. His warm shaft felt hot inside your wet cunt. Your head thrown back to the pillow as he pushes, reeling in the new feeling.

"H-hah! Fuck, S-soobin!" You let out a wanton moan.

"Mhhmp!" he buried his face in your neck as he thrust slowly, loving the new and raw feeling too.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, as you pulled him impossibly closer to you as your other hand clawed on his back.

"Hell..." Soobin winces at the pain from your nails clawing against his back. Maybe it was just him, but they felt sharper against his skin. Multiple long red marks are now visible on his back.

His thrusts were painstakingly slow. He was obviously living in the moment.

His lips and tongue wander on your skin once again. Leaving wet kisses and hickeys along your shoulder and chin. One of his hands sits under your head, holding you still. The other carefully massaging your mound.

"Lil bun... Baby..." he whispers, his pace slowly getting a bit faster.

Your answers turned out to be moans, whines, whimpers, and groans. You couldn't form coherent words.

"Will," he pauses, giving you one harsh thrust. "Will you marry me?"

You were lucky you could even let out a chuckle after receiving a harsh thrust.

"W-will you marry me, y/n?" He asked once again, his thrusts became harder and faster.

"Fuck, ahh! Y-yes!" You held his arm tight, jaw clenching at his fast pace.

"Mmmph! Ahh.." he tried muffling his moans by keeping his mouth closed and just letting out breathy moans.

"B-bin, I'm c-close..." You whined, your hands flying towards your mouth to cover it.

"Be loud," he commands, prying both of your hands away from your mouth.

One more harsh thrust pushed you to the edge, cumming and creaming on his cock, as a wanton moan of pleasure and overstimulation washed over you.

The hot and sloppy feeling made Soobin reach his own orgasm, spurting inside your walls.

He sweeps his hair back, still thrusting inside you from time to time, making sure you'll carry his babies.

Soobin pulls out, some of your mixed essences spilling through your hole. Soobin swipes a glob of it.

He then grabbed one of your hands, swiping the glob of cum on your ring finger in a circular manner.

"I'll ask again, will you marry me?" he chuckled.

"You're really dirty, Choi Soobin, but yes," you answered, smiling ear to ear, still catching your breath.

"Let's see who's the dirty one," he taunts as he swipes his finger once again on your seeping hole, making you suck on his digits.

"My pretty and dirty wife," he smirked as you looked at him with eyes full of lust. Deliciously sucking every drop from his fingers.

@binniesbooks 2024

#faye's library #soobin's books #soobin x reader #soobin smut #soobin x you #choi soobin x reader #choi soobin smut #choi soobin x you #soobin imagines #soobin scenarios #choi soobin scenarios #choi soobin imagines #txt smut #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts

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wileys-russo · 10 months ago

Note

stanway x reader where r is basically the back up cdm for england, only really plays that last few minutes of games if any so when keira gets injured at the wc, r freaks out because they have to go on and then play after until keira is back. maybe have georgia trying to comfort and hype up r before and then in one of the games where r plays the full 90, r makes like a big game saving tackle and georgia is super proud and happy for r after (you’re like carrying the woso fics on this app rn so thank you!)

crucial touch II g.stanway

"babe i'll be lucky to even see the pitch this tournament, i'm the back ups backup and i know that. i knew it when i accepted the call up!" you smiled at your girlfriend who frowned back at you from where she stood at the end of your bed.

"but i'm just sayin maybe if ya just talk to sarina and make your case you could get a start!" georgia pushed, knocking your legs apart and crawling up the bed to sit herself between them looking down at you.

"are you telling me to go behind your best mates back to try and get a start over her? harsh." you whistled teasingly, panic flashing across your girlfriends face as she stammered out that wasn't what she meant.

"gee! baby relax, i'm only teasing." you laughed, sitting up and grabbing her hands to still her.

"i love you and i appreciate you going to bat for me but i promise i am just happy to be here. would minutes under the belt be amazing? of course. but is being in australia, training with the squad and being with some of my best friends and girlfriend every day also amazing? yes!" you squeezed her hands with a smile of assurance, frown still dented into her features.

"but you've had such a great season and moved to the european league baby and-" "no more buts, i'm not going out of my way to plead for minutes with sarina. i trust that she always knows whats best for the team, that was well proven in the euros and i felt so much pride even just watching from the stands." you'd torn your hamstring mid last season which had unfortunately meant you weren't fit for squad selection, but despite how hard it was at times to watch your friends and wish you were in their position you learnt a whole new set of valuable lessons.

"babe i promise i am okay." you continued when once again your girlfriend opened her mouth to argue, finally giving in with a sigh and a nod.

"georgia!" you laughed as she pushed you back down onto the bed and flopped her body on top of you. "m'tired baby, lets cuddle and have a nap." the girl patted your head as her own settled on your stomach and your hands threaded her hair tugging it out of the bun it once was.

"what happened to going to watch the sunset before dinner?" "well, it rises and sets every day doesn't it? i'll take ya tomorrow."

"did she just say its her knee?" you whispered to lotte who was sat beside you, eyes flashing with the same fear you knew was conveyed in your own as she nodded. "shit." you mumbled, biting your lip nervously as the medics rushed on toward keira.

your leg bounced anxiously as they called for a stretcher, your stomach falling as sarina gestured for laura to start warming up as one of the coaching staff hurried over to run her through the plays.

all of you on the bench sent smiles to keira as she was stretchered off and disappeared down the tunnel, the sub made official as laura ran on and everyone tried to shake off what happened.

"they could have given us a small break of time to reset, they're clearly shook up." you mumbled to lotte who hummed in agreement, both of you watching on with limbs locked tight in stress.

thankfully the girls scraped by taking the 1-0 win against denmark and you didn't think you'd ever held your breath as long as until that final whistle blew ending injury time and the game.

you walked in between ella and georgia as you did your lap, thanking the fans, but you could tell that despite the smiles on everyones faces nobody was thinking about the win and rather worrying for how keira was.

and in particular if the team would see yet another victim to that dreaded three letter curse.

despite keira thankfully not having done her acl, she was under forced rest and a careful rehab program, and wouldn't be playing in the next game against china.

knowing that your teammate was okay had eased the mounting tension within the team and after a bonding day at the local zoo everyone was in high spirits.

which was likely what lead to the following 6-1 domination over china a few days later, everyone in even better spirits that night which was filled with karaoke, dancing and cheese boards much to lottes delight.

things took a more serious turn two days later at training when laura took a rather abrupt tackle from millie and headbutted the goal post, winding up with a concussion and with keira still not cleared to play that was how you found yourself sat across from sarina in one of the hotel meeting rooms.

she informed you'd not only be getting your first minutes of the tournament but would be in the starting eleven in tomorrow nights game. you had to ask her how to repeat herself making the dutch woman laugh and congratulate you, making a point to say she'd noticed that despite not playing you had still played a very crucial role within the team lifting morale.

still slightly in disbelief and pinching yourself with a sharp hiss you exited the room, making a beeline right towards your girlfriend who was mid darts game with niamh, ella and lucy.

with a wordless shake of your head you grabbed her hand, ignoring all of her questions and your friends teasing remarks behind you as you dragged her away from the game, staying silent right until the two of you were back in your room.

"baby whats goin on? you're bein very weird has somethin happened?" georgia asked for the tenth time, taking a seat on the edge of your bed as you shook your head and paced back and forth.

"oi, sit down and speak to me love ya gonna wear a hole in the carpet." georgia grabbed your hoodie and pulled you to stand between her legs, hands on the small of your back holding you there.

"i'm starting tomorrow." you blurted out with wide eyes, georgias own bugging nearly out of her head as her grip on you tightened. "you what!" she gasped out as you nodded firmly. "yeah, coombsy's still not cleared and neither is kei." you shook your head in disbelief.

"baby! you're starting in the fuckin world cup!" the breath was stolen from you as your girlfriend lovingly slammed you down onto the bed and jumped on top of you, kissing all over your face and mumbling how proud she was as you couldn't help but grin.

"wait!" you pushed her off and sat bolt upright. "what if i get injured? or i let in a goal? or i cause a penalty? or-" all of the worse case scenarios flew through your head, slamming around and around like a pinball machine.

"hey hey, stop that." georgia frowned, grabbing your face in her hands and forcing you to look at her. "you won't. you are so so brilliant, and hardworking, and passionate. it doesn't matter if this is your first start in a world cup or another match for bayern love, you tackle it the exact same way you enter any game. with your whole heart and ya head screwed on right!" georgia gently squeezed your cheeks and placed a tender kiss against your lips as you exhaled and collapsed into her.

"i'm starting tomorrow." "you're starting tomorrow, and you are gonna smash it baby."

the day of the match itself you were still a nervous wreck. word had spread of your start and in small groups all of the girls came over to congratulate and hype you up.

and as much as you appreciated each and every single one of them all of their hope and praise was just adding onto your existing nerves, which your girlfriend seemed to pick up on as she gently shooed everyone away, tucking you into her side at breakfast and changing the subject.

she made sure to sit beside you on the bus and walked you around the stadium for the pitch check with your fingers interlocked tightly with hers, swinging your hands together and distracting you with kisses when she noticed your mind start to wander.

right before warm ups your phone rang and you lit up seeing it was leah, you'd played with her for years at arsenal before taking the plunge to germany when both frankfurt and bayern came knocking.

so stepping out of the room the blonde gave you a stern talking to about believing in yourself and making the most of the opportunity the situation had presented you no matter how it came about.

and with that in mind you reset your headspace and tuned in, georgia sending leah a quick text thanking her as whatever was said worked as you now seemed your confident self when walking out for the line up.

unlike last match against china the game against nigeria was anything but easy. they were a fast and agile side and came out aggressive, so you did your best as a team to meet them like that but after a brutal 90 minutes it was still deadlocked at 0-0.

mary had been putting in a shift, everyone had, and with lj earning a red card you were down to 10 when they announced there would be extra time as a break was called and everyone huddled together on the sidelines.

sarinas words ringing in your ears you sucked up how much your body ached and readied yourself to go again, vowing to leave absolutely everything on the pitch as if it was the last game you ever played.

your chance came in the 118th minute as you missed a crucial tackle and one of the strikers snuck past you. you knew from watching her throughout the game where she'd likely shoot from so you diverted tactics.

you knew it was a risk but you had to trust your gut like always and sprinting down the length of the field on the opposite side your legs burned and ached but you just used that to spur yourself on.

sure enough it was a risk that paid off as the striker slotted the ball past mary who watched in horror as it slipped beneath her thigh and she crashed to the ground.

but you were there without even a millisecond to spare, the ball clipping the edge of your studs as you slid your body across goal and tapped it out earning them a corner but preventing the winning goal.

you only breathed once the referee signaled for nigeria to take their corner, your head slumping against the ground as you took a moment to reset and marys gloved hands hauled you up off the ground.

"you are a fucking superstar for that one mate." she grabbed your face and kissed your forehead with a loud mwah, brushing the grass off of you as you grinned and everyone set in for the corner which would be the last play of extra time.

your hands falling to lucy's waist you felt millies grab yours from behind, a defensive tactic which was yet to fail you as once again a goal was prevented with mary jumping to tap it over the top of the goal as the whistle blew yet again signalling the game would go to penalties.

you watched with baited breath, squished in between beth and millie as each kick was taken. you winced as your girlfriend missed, watching her face fall but sending her a reassuring nod and mouthing that you loved her.

beth, rach and chloe were next all sinking their kicks as chloes hit the back of the net with record speed and the stadium erupted into cheers, you'd done it and you lived to see another day, you'd won.

you raced right over to your girlfriend amid the celebrations who had the same idea, jumping onto her and wrapping your legs round her waist, both of you forgetting you'd just played over 120 minutes as her legs buckled and the two of you crashed to the ground.

"i am so so so fucking proud of ya!" georgia beamed, pressing her forehead against yours as you lay on the grass tangled up with one another. you were well aware of your surroundings but in her arms and by her side everything else slipped away, the two of you lost in one anothers eyes which shone with pride.

"can i kiss you?"

your girlfriend seemed taken aback by the question and your eyes widening you went to stand but your body locked up in surprise as her hand balled your jersey and tugged your lips to meet hers, neither one of you caring for a single moment what anyone thought.

in that triumphant moment all you had eyes for was each another.

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #georgia stanway x reader #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso community #engwnt #georgia stanway

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cosmoeticss · 1 year ago

Text

Haven’t I Loved You Well? | Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader (part two)

my masterlist

Words: 2.8K

Warnings: (18+ minors dni) angst, mentions of death, violence, marital problems

Notes: I’m so manic rn I can’t even decide if I like how the end of this turned out. I want to wrap this up but I don’t think I know how to continue this without making it a full fledged fic, and I don’t have the mental capacity to do another one of those right now. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this. I love you guys. Also I’m sorry there’s no seggsiness, mom and dad are fighting, their grandpa/father just died.

Part Two of Haven’t I Been Good to You?

You stirred awake in the early hours to find the bed next to you empty and the faint sound of toddlers playing. Your hand smoothed over Aemond's side of the bed, your fingertips meeting cold and empty sheets. Your husband had been gone long before you had awakened. A deep sigh erupted in your lungs as you stretched your limbs, uncovering yourself and rising from the bed. Bare feet hit the cool stone floors as you reached for your silk, Velaryon Blue robe, slipping it over your thin white night shift and finding your woolen slippers under the bed.

A bright smile split your lips at the sound of your son's laughter in the adjoining chambers. You practically skipped to the sitting area, pulling the doors open to find the two silver haired boys playing with your handmaiden. When they finally spotted you, they jumped up with glee, running to tackle you.

"Mama!" Your youngest son, named Laenor after your father, had jumped into your embrace and twisted his arms around your neck. Aemon, your eldest boy, hugged your knees tightly.

"Good morning, sweet boys," you beamed, bending to place a soft kiss on little Aemon’s hairline. "How long have you been up? You should have woken me earlier."

"They've only just stirred, Princess." Brynna, your chambermaid, assured you softly. "I thought you could use rest in your condition."

"Mama," Aemon grabbed your hand in excitement. "We're playing Conqueror again! Come play with us."

You smiled sadly at his request. "I'm afraid it shall have to wait, my love," you squeezed the boy's fingers in comfort. "Your father and I have a council meeting this morning, and I must dress."

"Princess, I’ve been asked to deliver the message that all your engagements have been canceled for the day,” Brynna interrupted. “The Queen has asked that everyone stay in their chambers.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Well, where is my husband then?”

“I was told to inform you that the Prince has urgent matters to attend to and will return when he has finished.”

Something static is evident in the air, raising suspicion deep in your bones. You cling to any ounce of calm you have in you, as not to distress the children, breathing slowly. A forced smile reaches your lips, and you hope your sweet sons are none the wiser as you address them. “Why don’t you boys keep playing with Brynna, and Mama will join you after I’m done talking to Ser Arryk, alright?”

The boys do as they’re told happily, and you make your way to the door of your chambers, attempting to open it to no avail. Panic shoots through you as you pull at it again, bringing your shaky knuckles to wrap against the hard wooden door. “Ser Arryk?” you call out, and you’re met with a moment of silence before the whirring of the lock before the door cracks open.

It’s not the familiar face of Ser Arryk Cargyll you’re met with, but a man a bit shorter and stockier, with dark black hair and hard features. “Princess,” He bows his head to you. “The Queen has requested that everyone remain in their chambers until further notice.” “So I’ve been told,” you affirm, confusion written all over your face. “Who are you? Where is Ser Arryk?”

“I am Ser Gyles Belgrave, your highness,” he says stiffly. “Ser Arryk had very urgent matters to attend to, I have been tasked with guarding your apartments in his stead.”

Your hold in the groan of annoyance that threatens to unleash itself. “Well, everyone just has very urgent matters to attend to today, haven’t they?

“It appears so, Princess,” his tone is flat and unwavering as he addresses you.

“Forgive my unusual lack of patience on this morn’, Ser Gyles,” you sigh, closing your eyes as you briefly regain any semblance of composure you can manage. “Might you take me to see the Queen to find out what in the Seven Hells is going on, or at the very least to my husband.”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that, Princess.”

You furrow your brow. “Yes, you can. I’m a Princess of the Realm in direct line for the Iron Throne, and I have – very politely might I add – asked you to escort me to Queen Alicent at once.”

“I’m sorry, Princess,” he urges. “It is a direct order from the Queen that you stay here.”

You huff out in frustration, your fingers tightening on the handle of the door until your knuckles turn white. “Thank you, Ser Gyles,” you force the corners of your lips to curl into a synthetic smile. “You’ve been ever so helpful.” And with that you slam the door shut, pressing your forehead to the wood and breathing deeply to calm your nerves and trying to quiet your own nagging voice hissing in the back of your mind.

It’s happening.

The King was in good spirits yesterday. He addressed the courts just last night, and was conscious and present all throughout dinner. He is fine. We have time.

Time is up.

Your mother and the Queen had reconciled their differences, toasted in each other's honor, embraced before the night had ended. Everything would be fine.

There will be no reconciling. Spool of green, spool of black. The cuts run too deep, the wounds have festered.

Where is Aemond?

Not even your love can save the noble House of the Dragon now.

“Mama!” you snap out of your panic at the sound of your son's beckoning, your chest heaving in time with your labored breath.

“Coming, my loves,” you call, swallowing the feeling of dread whirring deep in your chest, and putting on a brave façade as you face your sons.

It feels, for a moment, as if time freezes when your husband finally returns to your marital chambers that evening, his good eye heavy with empathy and guilt. You shoot up in your chair, the boys both looking up from playing with their model dragon figurines on the floor to their father. He doesn’t have to say a word. The truth you’ve been denying yourself since they locked you away is written clearly on his face.

“Kepa!” The boys cry out as they run to jump into his arms, their father’s entrance being the most exciting event of the day.

“My little princes,” he laughs, embracing them, the wear of the day's trials is hidden just underneath the surface of his smile. You wonder to yourself how many lives Aemond has lived today, what he had seen, what he had done.

Slouching back in your chair, you slide a hand over the swell of your stomach, the other coming to pinch the bridge of your nose.

Aemond tends to the children, answering their miles of questions and listening to their detailed accounts of make believe lands they’ve visited and play pretend battles they’ve fought during the day since they’d been confined inside. Aemond takes the explosion of excitement from your boys steadily, with a kind of patience he didn’t have for many others. The boys adore him. You adore him more than anything, and here you sat picking apart your husbands every move, trying to determine whether he was friend or foe.

The hour is late when Aemond finally gets the boys settled. You had not spoken a word to him, not touched him since he came back. You didn’t join in as he read the boys a bedtime story. You didn’t assist him as he carried their sleeping figures to their beds one by one. You hadn’t moved from your spot in the lounge chair since. You weren’t even sure you were real until Aemond was kneeling before you, his large hands engulfing yours as he pressed delicate, apologetic kisses to your palms, not yet daring to find the courage to meet your gaze.

You hold back the tears pricking at your eyes, swallowing the bile rising in the back of your throat. “Tell me the truth of it, Aemond,” you manage, your voice pained and hushed.

He finally meets your hollow stare. “My love, please—“ his voice is soft and desperate as his lips work their way to the skin of your wrists.

“—I just need to hear you say it,” you press, words wobbling from the threat of your unshed tears. “Tell me what news of the King.”

He clasps your hands tightly in his, clinging to them like a prayer as he hangs his head low before you. “The King is dead,” he rasps the words, silence filling the room in their stead. A strangled, guttural gasp forces its way through your lips, your eyes fluttering shut as hot tears finally fall freely. In truth you hadn’t expected to be so shocked when news came of the King’s passing. Despite his faults, you loved your grandsire deeply, and though this day had long been lingering just out of sight, you never expected it to happen so suddenly. This felt wrong.

“Say it,” you snap, trying desperately not to fall apart before him. He didn’t have to speak it, you knew in your heart what was coming next.

“My father declared to mother on his deathbed, that it is Aegon who will inherit–”

You scramble to twist out of his grasp before he can even finish his sentence, but he clings to you, holding you in place and forcing you to look at him. “No–”

“-- Aegon will be crowned before the masses tomorrow morning.”

You try your best to wriggle from his torturous warmth, grunting and hitting his chest as you attempt to push him away from you with all your might. “How can you let them do this?” you wail. “You’re liars! Traitors to the Crown!” “My love, please,” Aemond begs as you cry out. “You must understand–”

“--I must understand?” She barks a humorless laugh, silver hair clinging to her tear stained cheeks. “What is it that I am to understand? That you are no better than the rest of them? A liar? A traitor to our house and the realm? This is treason! Don’t you understand the gravity of this?”

“It was the will of the King,” he proclaimed, as you gave up your fighting out of pure exhaustion. “With his dying breath, this is the succession he wished for. We have no choice in the matter.”

“You expect me to believe that after twenty years of upholding and defending my mothers claim, the King relinquished the throne to your drunken, depraved, imbecile brother moments before his death with no one around to hear but your power hungry mother?” you snipe, face hardened with distaste. “I at least thought you to be a sensible man, husband.”

Aemond catches you off guard when he captures your jaw in his hand forcefully. “You will watch your tongue, wife,” he snarls.

You had seen that familiar glint of anger in Aemond’s eyes many a time, you were no stranger to his fire. He was a man with a quick temper, it often didn’t take much for him to unleash the fury of the dragon. You just never thought in all your years he’d direct it towards you.

You attempt a disinterested laugh, but it comes out as more of a whimper, your eye’s glistening as they fan over his features in disbelief. “Is this what we are to become?” you whisper pitifully. “Is it true what they say, that I am wife to a cruel man? A man who has now fashioned himself a traitor. Perhaps I do not know you at all.”

His eyes flutter shut with shame, his stinging grip softening as he drops his forehead to meet yours, pulling you closer until you're practically on his lap. You don’t fight him this time, exerting your strength proving to be fruitless. “You are married to a man who loves you. A man who has been fighting all his life to protect you. You know me, you are the only person alive who truly knows me, and I love you with everything that I can give,” he tries, squeezing his eye shut tightly as he forces his next words out. “But I have a duty to my family–”

“I am your family,” you plead, taking his face in your hands. “Our sons are your family. That is your duty. What do you think they will do to us when war ensues?”

“I will keep you safe,” he promises, pulling back to hold your gaze. His expression is desperate, for what you don’t know. Forgiveness? Submission? Blind Devotion? In your fury you could not muster any of it. “Anyone who dare harm you or our children is a fool.”

“You are the fool for thinking that you could protect us from what is to come,” you interject, pressing your lips together. “No one wins this war, and there will be war, Aemond. “Everyone knows what I am,” you don’t say the word itself, but you can see he understands. Its venom is hissed towards you at every turn you take. Aemond holds his tongue as you brush his hair back over his shoulders, smoothing down the disheveled strands as you choke out the words, trying despairingly to get through to him. “It is another doing that is not my own, one that I have suffered for everyday of my life. If this is where your loyalties will lie, husband, it is another price that I must pay.”

“That is where your loyalties lie? You would crown the woman who placed that cloak of shame upon you,” he reasons.

“As opposed to staying with the man who is practically handing his wife and children to the executioner himself?”

He whispers your name, only your name, softly and stoically like a prayer, and you continue your pleading. His face is held in between your hands, your lips peppering persuading kisses across his velvet skin.

“Please,” you echo over and over. “Don’t do this. You promised.”

Aemond seems to snap out of your trance quite suddenly, pulling himself far enough away so that your prodding halts. His gaze lifts to yours, slower and more certain than before. Your heart clenches in your chest as he takes your wrists in his hands, pulling them away from his jaw.

Aemond’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. “The decision is final,” he clears his throat, rising from the floor and leaving you behind on the cold stone below. “I will tell the boys, or at least Aemon, he is old enough to understand.”

Your hands fall to your lap as you sink further to the floor in defeat. “He is six,” you grumble.

“He will be a man grown sooner than late,” his voice is distant and nearly unrecognizable. “He is old enough to stand by our side in the Dragon Pit tomorrow in support of his uncle, and he will, as well as his mother.”

“I will never bend the knee to that man,” you hiss, hot tears caking your rosy cheeks. “I will not stand by as he is crowned.”

“You will come freely or there will be consequences,” Aemond commands. “Not only for us, for the children.”

“Let them see the consequences,” you stand, legs wobbling as you force yourself upright. “Let them see how quickly their father folded before a usurper, let them understand how thinly his loyalty runs. Then they shall know who to blame when the sky falls down upon us.”

Before your husband can interject, you push past him, fleeing to your shared chambers and slamming the heavy door behind you as hard as you could. The sound of it echoes heavily through the room, you can feel it in your bones and it rattles your soul. You spin on your heel, gaze softening as you eye the wall between you and the man you love – the wall you’ve just put there. You stifle a cry, it feels final, it feels like the entire Keep is crumbling from beneath you.

Your mind and your senses are at war as you approach the door slowly, trying with everything in you to push down the desire to be held by him, to forgive him, to do anything he desires just so that you might be together.

Your loyalty is stronger than your yearning to be his and his alone. Your palms, aching for contact, find their solace against the surface of the door. It’s cold, harsh, and stiff, but if you close your eyes and concentrate you can pretend it's his soft, burning skin pulsating under the tips of your fingers. If you focus on nothing else you can remember what it feels like to be enveloped in his arms, you can almost smell the smoke on him, almost hear his voice lulling you to sleep, almost taste his perfect lips against yours.

In your anguish, you can’t fathom that his heart is aching on the other side as well, and you don’t feel his palms pressed against the other side of the door begging to be let back in.

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astraystayyh · 1 year ago

Text

Orange

hyunjin x reader. childhood friends to lovers. implied soulmates. hyune's pov.

this is the prequel & sequel to you're in the wind, i'm in the water. you need to read the prev fic first to understand how hyunjin and mc confessed to one another!!

this is very self indulgent but it's also my bd gift so i get a pass hehe also a tribute to one of my fav love languages which is peeling an orange for someone :')

based on Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey,, so highly recommend listening to it while reading :)) feedback is appreciated as always <333

i'm on the run with you my sweet love

The beige sand warms the soles of your feet as you and Hyunjin run along the shore. His parents sit by a towel, watching you with idle curiosity as you’re propelled forth by the brisk winds; and a sense of feedom only found in the tender hearts of children.

Hyunjin doesn’t know where you’re taking him. He didn’t question you when you entwined your fingers with his before running away, your footprints etched upon the sandy canvas. His sole attention was on your clammy hand, tightly clasping his.

Hyunjin didn’t yet understand what it meant to crave the hand of someone in yours, for it to feel natural for fingers to hold one another. He was only seven. What does one really know at this age?

But he knew that he was drawn to grand things. The beauty of fireworks as they unfold in the sky, dazzling colors rivaling the hues of sunsets. To the towering sunflowers his mother takes him to see, so tall their petals almost seem to be reaching for the sun’s embrace. To the full moon and the way it hangs close to earth, as if yearning to enter our horizon, to sink into the soil and rest.

But in that moment, as he watched your gleeful smile, the blush tinting your cheeks as you tugged him along, a different amazement grew within his soul. It was quiet, it was soft, it didn't overwhelm his seven-years-old heart. It was enough.

You finally stop by a rock, settling in the sand with your hair fanning around you like a halo. Hyunjin hovers over you, his tentative gaze tracing your features, trying to pinpoint what had made that peculiar feeling pour over his body, like candle wax finally meeting its destined mold.

He doesn't find an answer, only your kind smile as you tap the place near you. You were giddy, as if you had run far when his parents remained mere meters away.

Hyunjin had noticed this urge in you to flee, to wander, always. He didn't know what it means. He thought that perhaps you didn't know either. He wondered if you'd ever run away from him. The question burned the tip of his tongue.

"Will we always run together?" Hyunjin suddenly asks, kneeling to meet your eyes.

"If you want to," you shrug. "Will you run away with me when we're older?"

"Where to?" he asks, a note of apprehension coloring his tone.

"I don't know. We'll know later."

"Okay."

"You pinky promise?"

"I do," Hyunjin entwines his pinky with yours, before leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your thumb pad. He avoids your eyes as a dusty blush cascades on his cheeks, akin to the fading pink of a sunken sunset. You giggle, reciprocating the kiss before pressing your thumbs together.

"Sealed forever," you grin, eyes disappearing into moon crescents. Your contagious happiness mirrors instantly on Hyunjin's face, his nose scrunching up in delight.

He wants to keep this smile on your face, he thinks, this intricate joy that dawns upon your features, brightening up your face, making your pinky in his feel lighter, warmer.

So, he takes out an orange from his pocket.

"Where did you get this?" you chuckle, eyes widening in delight as if presented with the world's most treasured jewel.

"A vendor gave it to me," he shrugs, handing it to you.

Your thumb punctures the tangerine's thick skin, making the fruit’s juice drip down your hands. You attempt to peel it but the skin breaks instantly, falling into the sand.

"Here, let me," Hyunjin offers, taking the orange from your hands, peeling it for you.

A strange warmth slowly spreads through his being, akin to tree roots anchoring onto the soil, to the unfurling of petals on the first day of spring. It feels good, for some reason, to do this mundane task for you.

This newfound feeling only solidifies when you smile brightly at him, breaking the fruit into two halves and handing one part to Hyunjin.

You no longer look like you want to run. You look content here, simply sharing an orange with him.

Hyunjin suddenly wants to buy you a whole crate of tangerines. Maybe even a farm of it- just trees upon trees that he can plant for you. He chases the thought away, he's only seven, he doesn't have money, where would he even store the oranges?

Hyunjin didn't have the answer to this question, nor the million ones swirling in his mind. But he knew your smile, the kindness in your eyes, the lingering scent of oranges on his fingers, even after washing his hands. And the word that sat heavy on his soul, from that night forth.

Hyunjin knew he loved you when he was seven years old.

there is nothing wrong contemplating God; under the chemtrails over the country club

"Found you," Hyunjin whispers, reclining on the rooftop near you.

"Wasn't hiding from you," you respond just as softly, your gaze fixed on the turquoise sky overhead. Your words cause Hyunjin's heart to swell within his chest, growing, expanding, pushing against his ribs, yearning to escape and splatter at your feet.

His emotions were always so grand- his happiness consuming his entire being, the sadness, the loneliness rattling his bones with an invincible cold. Then the love for you, not in dependence, the way the planets orbit around the sun. But with choice, because he wants to, craves being near.

"What are you doing?" he asks after a while, his voice slightly hoarse.

"Watching the chemtrails," you point out a tiny plane leaving a white trail in the sky.

"It looks so far away," he whispers in wonder, and you hum with a melancholic expression. Hyunjin curls his hand into a fist, resisting the urge to smooth the delicate frown etched on your brows.

"Didn't you like your birthday celebration?" he finally asks. He knows the answer before you quietly say, 'yes.' You were never one for the chic attire, the fine china and polished silverware reflecting the guests fake smiles. You only ever came to the country club for Hyunjin.

"I just... these people are here for me, supposedly. And yet, I feel so invisible downstairs. I bet no one even noticed my absence."

"I did," he replies instantly, contradicting you vehemently, wanting to dispel the shadows that cloud your mind. "And... I brought you an orange," he adds, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It grows when you beam at him, the chemtrails momentarily forgotten.

"Did you?"

"Mm, here," he swiftly peels the fruit for you, instinctively breaking it into two halves.

"I'm sixteen and I don't know how to peel a tangerine because of you," you giggle, biting into one part eagerly. Water dribbles down the side of your mouth, and Hyunjin delicately wipes it away, his hand cradling your jaw gently.

His heart beats wildly, drowning out the country club's orchestra. He's never been this close to you, noses nearly bumping into one another.

"Don't learn how to," he whispers, licking his lips nervously. He hopes you can't feel the tremor in his hand as it slides down your cheek.

"Why?"

"Then you won't need me anymore," he says honestly, and your eyes widen at his words. Say it, his heart pleads, I can't contain this love anymore. Hyunjin shakes his head, silencing his own thoughts. He'll make room for it; his heart will expand, even if it means bursting at the seams. He can't face your rejection.

"Can I ask you something?" you say after a while, still as close to him.

"Anything."

"Do you ever feel like you don't belong anywhere? You have friends and family, but you feel like..."

"Nobody's son?" he suggests.

"Yeah, nobody's daughter."

"Maybe we're not meant to belong to anyone else but ourselves."

"Isn't that sad?" you ask, bringing an orange wedge to Hyunjin's mouth. "What if I don't always have myself?"

"Well, you'll always have me."

"Do you promise me?" you ask eagerly, eyes wide, tone almost desperate.

"I promise." The fog dissipates, light spilling over your face once again.

"Even though you're so sought after?" you giggle.

"I'm not!"

"You are! Everybody wanted to talk to you downstairs. You're always the man of the hour," you wink, lying down on the floor once again.

"Really? I didn't notice," he says, settling next to you.

"Mm, you never notice anything," you sigh, resting your cheek atop his shoulder.

It's quiet again, save for the tranquil sound of your breaths. Your eyes are trained on the sky, following the path of each plane.

"They look really tiny."

"Maybe we're the small ones," you muse.

Hyunjin doesn't agree. Not when his love for you feels almost ancient, drawn from the depths of the very first fountain of love. It has stayed with him for nine years, intermingled with the very molecules of his being. You can't be small when what he feels for you is grander than the world.

"Maybe we are," he says as he slides an arm underneath your back, pulling you closer to his chest.

"Hyune," you call out softly.

"Mm?" he hums in reply.

"What do you think you're made for?"

I'm here to love you, he wants to say, achingly, fully, on your grand days and your small ones. To fall apart at the altar of your soul and to rise anew, by you, for you. To be yours.

"I'm here to peel you oranges." He whispers instead, his confession, for now.

"And I'm here to eat them, then."

we laugh about nothing as the summer gets cool; it's beautiful how this deep normality settles down over me

"Did you know you have a straight trail of moles on your back?" Hyunjin whispers, his cool breath akin to a gentle zephyr.

"It starts here," he bestows a tender kiss beneath your shoulder blade, as if marking the start of a constellation. "Then you have another one here," his lips brush against your skin, coaxing forth delicate goosebumps, like ripples on a moonlit pond. "And here," he trails down your spine, his mouth weaving a trail only he can see. "And a final one here," he lingers longer near the last mole, lips meeting your lower back delicately, akin to the tender graze of a feather.

If you had told Hyunjin that he would freely kiss your moles, hands trailing down your skin scented with chlorine and vanilla, he would have thought you were insane. But now he has you, because you want him too, against all odds. Hyunjin wasn't alone in his love; every emotion in your soul mirrored his own. Two sides of the same coin. Two halves of the same tangerine.

"And then... it wraps around your stomach," he flips you around until you face him, giddy giggles escaping your lips. "You see it? It goes right here, another straight line," he whispers in wonder, tracing over the moles on your skin as if in worship. There is so much he longs to articulate, words yearning to spill from his mouth. He realizes he can say them now, drape them over your body like a blanket knitted with love.

"Someone plucked stars and arranged them on your skin. You're a galaxy on your own, you know that right? So beautiful," he whispers, eyes wide in adulation, raking over each feature of yours, so much they're seared behind his eyelids. The only sight he sees when he goes to sleep.

"So are you," you smile, hands gently cradling his cheeks. Hands that held him at age seven, then eight, ten, thirteen, and twenty. Hands that dried his tears, patted his back, and played with his hair. Hands that are much more sacred than his own.

"No, you don't understand," he hovers over you, gently smoothing down your hair. "You're so beautiful, so much it dizzies me, consumes me. You consume me, entirely, and I-" He sucks in a deep breath as you smile lovingly, reassuringly.

"I know," you say. "I feel it too."

"I can't believe this is real," he shakes his head, thumb tracing your lower lip gently. "I didn't even plan on confessing when i brought you to this pool. And yet... it feels natural for us to be this way."

You nod, grinning. "Like we belong to one another."

"I told you I'd stay," his eyes soften, capturing you with the same tenderness as always, savoring every part of you.

"You always keep your promises," you smile, hand sliding down the nape of his neck, smoothing a stubborn tuft of hair.

Normal, that's the elusive term he was looking for. It is normal for him to hold you, to kiss you, to look into your eyes and find love swimming in your irises. It is the way it's supposed to be between you. He couldn't ever think of another outcome.

His eyes trail down to your arm, where two moles match perfectly with his, down to the placement, the space separating them both.

"Is this where we kissed each other the most in our past lives?" he trails off, knuckles brushing against your arm gently. You mirror his touch.

"So you believe we're soulmates?"

"Mm, I've always known."

"And why didn't you tell me?" you grin, tilting your head to the side.

"I peeled you tangerines."

His words seem to ignite something within you, memories of each time he peeled you oranges flooding back. Every birthday, each time you were sad, every time the fruit was near.

You stand up, straddling Hyunjin's lap, and then you kiss his eye mole, then the one on his cheek, trailing down his jaw mole, his neck, his arms.

"What are you doing?" he giggles, warm hands on your lower back.

"Making sure those moles show up in our next life too."

And at your words, Hyunjin swore that the citrusy scent of tangerines suddenly wafted in the air.

washing my hair, doing the laundry, late night TV i want you only

Your legs are comfortably propped on top of Hyunjin's, matching pairs of beige pajamas seamlessly merging into one another. The sweet scent of shampoo lingers in the air—a fragrance Hyunjin carefully massaged into your hair twenty minutes ago, his fingers still as gentle as they grazed your scalp, now at the age of twenty-six.

Nearly two decades later, Hyunjin still knows that he loves you. It is a different one from the love he felt at seven—a metamorphosis akin to the moon's phases, from crescent to full, distinct yet continuous. It clung to his being, melted into the very essence of his soul.

"Just how many white shirts do you own?" you giggle, folding another pair of Hyunjin's clothing, the melody of your laughter still rattling the insides of his heart. He smiles sheepishly, planting a tender kiss on your forehead before responding, "You wear half of them with me."

"Your clothes are mine. You agreed on this when you proposed to me," you state matter-of-factly.

"And what else did I agree on?" he smiles, placing two pairs of matching socks in the basket—yours and his.

"That you'd kiss me instead of doing the laundry," you say mischievously, and he chuckles, tilting his head back. The clothes are momentarily forgotten as he lowers your body onto the couch, one hand cradling your head.

"You know I can't say no to you," he smiles, left dimple appearing as it always does when you're near.

"I know," you grin, pulling him down by the hem of his pajamas, your lips meeting his.

Hyunjin still kisses you with the same quiet passion, slowly, as if rediscovering you all over again. His hand cradles your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek gently, as his lips find yours again and again—rosy, plump, seeking solace in your familiar warmth.

He's always been drawn to mysteries, grand things, and overwhelming emotions that defy comprehension. Things he'd never fully know, things he'd never be bored of. Yet, with you, it's different; he knows you, he's learned you, and he loves you more every day—purposefully, by choice, because he can't fathom a reality where he doesn't.

His lips press upon yours one last time before he pulls you onto his lap, burying his head in the crook of your neck. "You smell nice," he whispers.

"I smell like you."

"I know," he smiles, a gentle breeze escaping his lips and caressing your skin.

He closes his eyes, savoring the quietness, the domesticity of the scene—the folded laundry on the table, the background hum of the TV, the meal you'll cook later, waltzing under the fridge's light. You, the one love of his life—the small love and the grand one, the first love and the last one. The embodiment of it all.

Your arms drape around his shoulders as you relax in his hold, your breaths syncing into a tranquil rhythm. He's built himself a home in the ridges of your collarbones, a place for him to rest in the crook of your shoulder blade. Both of you are okay, both of you are safe.

"Do you remember when we were seven? We traveled together for the first time," you speak after a while, a weighty emotion enveloping your voice.

"I do."

"You promised me we'd run away when we grow older."

"I did."

"I don't want to run anymore. I'm content with you, right here," you whisper, and the words feel like sunflowers blooming in Hyunjin's chest. "I was so scared of growing up, of never feeling like I belong. To myself, to anyone. But I do, with you."

"Always," he pulls away, bringing your hand to his mouth, leaving sweet kisses on your ring finger.

"Thank you, my Hyune," you say, tears gathering in your eyes like morning dewdrops on leaves. "Thank you for peeling my oranges."

Your nose brushes against his, his thumb drawing circles on your palm.

"Thank you for pretending you don't know how to."

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