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Yan!JJK x Reader: How you met!
Fun Fact: It's wholesome! What could possibly go wrong in the future? :)
Characters: Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Choso and Shoko!
TW: Mentions of partying (it's brief), pet names, maid cafe (Suguru gets a little pervy thoughts), Mostly Fluff. Oh but it's yandere fluff :)
WC: 5.1K
A/n: So anytime I do a Yan!JJK this is the lore for those headcannons. I might make it, its own masterlist? idk still debating. Also, I rotated through so many ideas. My drafts for this are insane (Literally). I tried different variations for each one. Feel free to give me feedback if there are certain yan tendencies you want to see.
The dark content for this week: How they kidnapped you :)
Satoru: Are you an angel? Â
Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer of the century, was running a high fever.
Swaying slightly as he walked down a quiet neighborhood street, his head spinning, he tried to focus. He just needed to get to the pick-up location. That was it. He could handle it.
But it was getting harder to concentrate. The heat of the summer sun seemed to beat down on him relentlessly, his body too weak to handle the intensity. His normally steady steps faltered, and for a moment, he thought he might collapse.
Then, he heard it. A soft, sweet voice, like the melody of an angel.
âYou alright?â
Gojo turned his head toward the sound. An angel?
There you were, standing in front of your apartment, your hands gently watering the flowers that lined your balcony. You were older than himâmaybe five years, judging by the way you carried yourself, the maturity in your voice, the way you looked at the world like you had it all figured out. There was something about you that made his pulse quicken. Why was he feeling this way?
He blinked, his feverish thoughts clouding his focus. You were so gentle, so sweet. His head throbbed, but your soft gaze was like a balm.
âCome have a seat here,â you continued, your voice soothing. âAnd is that a blindfold? Honey, thatâs probably why youâre running a fever. Weâre going through a heat wave, you know?â
You chuckled lightly, but it wasnât condescending. No, it was sweet, nurturing. You carefully led him to the small outdoor patio that was adorned with delicate chairs and a charming little table, a tiny vase of flowers sitting in the center.
Gojo followed, his head still dizzy. How could an angel like you ever trick him?
You werenât just sweet, you were⊠perfect. He couldn't remember the last time heâd been so caught up in someone like this. His usual cocky, overconfident demeanor felt like it was slipping away, replaced by something softer, more desperate. Something heâd never let anyone seeâuntil now.
You guided him into one of the chairs with gentle hands, taking the blindfold from his face with the same tenderness. His fevered skin flushed under your touch. He couldn't help but let out a low groan of relief as the air hit his face, the sensation a small comfort amidst the haze of his fever.
"Stay here for a minute," you said softly, your smile so warm and sincere that it made his heart skip. "Iâll be right back with something for you."
He nodded, feeling a strange sense of peace wash over him. There was no reason to leave now. He felt dizzy, weak, and content to stay under your care forever.
And when you returned, he saw that you werenât just being kindâoh no, you were going above and beyond.
You made him rice balls, neatly wrapped in seaweed, and a glass of iced tea, its chilled surface sweating under the heat of the day. Homemade baked goods sat on a small plate next to the drinks, their scent filling the air with sweetness.
"You must be hungry," you said, setting the food down in front of him with a smile. "Itâs not much, but I thought it might help."
Gojo picked up one of the rice balls, staring at it for a moment. There was no way he could say no to you. He didnât even want to. Your kindness, your soft voice, the way you treated him like he wasnât just the strongest sorcerer, but someone who needed careâit was intoxicating.
He bit into the rice ball, the taste as comforting as your presence.
You were perfect. Sweet, caring, thoughtful, and so effortlessly graceful. It was as though the universe had put you in his path, just for him.
But he knew better than to trust anyone so easily.
Gojoâs mind was clouded, his thoughts sluggish under the feverâs grip, but there was one thing he was sure of: You were too good to be trusted.
You were standing right beside him, still watching him with those soft, caring eyes as if you really cared about him. Your gaze was warm, concerned, butâhe couldnât help itâhe felt a twinge of doubt. People like you didnât just act like that without wanting something. Heâd seen this before, felt it tooâpeople were always after something, even when they pretended to be kind.
And yet, in the back of his mind, a darker part of him couldnât shake the thought. Maybe this time was different. Maybe you werenât like the others.
âThank you,â he murmured between bites, his voice thick with something more than just gratitude. Did rice balls always taste this good?Â
You hummed sweetly, a soft smile playing on your lips as you shrugged. "Just doing the right thing."
You werenât just being kindâno, you were going out of your way to care for him. It felt too personal, too intimate, but he didnât mind. In fact, the more you did for him, the more he wanted from you.
âYou shouldnât be wearing all that black during a heat wave, yâknow?â you chided lightly, your voice lilting with that same gentle concern. But when you looked into his eyes, Gojo couldnât miss the way your gaze lingered, like you were looking at himâ just him. Sick, weak, and so very human.
He wanted to laugh at the thought. He was Gojo Satoru, after all. The strongest, untouchable. But in this moment, with you here, something about the way you cared for him made him feel... vulnerable.
âEven the cicadas arenât singing today," you said, tilting your head as if you were pondering something deeper. "Is there somebody I can call for you?"
Gojoâs pulse quickened at the soft weight of your words, the way you framed your question. Was it concern? Or was it an invitation? He leaned back slightly, the fever making his thoughts blur, but he didnât want to let go of that feeling of closeness youâd given him.
Someone to call?
A soft, amused smirk spread across Gojoâs face as he locked eyes with you. âIâm fine,â he said, his voice low and almost teasing. But inside, something darker flickered. âBut... if you really insist, you could always stay with me for a while. Keep an eye on me.â
You blinked, caught off guard, but there was no hesitation in your answer. You didnât sense the undercurrent of possessiveness in his words, didnât feel the quiet edge to his smile. You were too kind, too innocent, to see the real reason Gojo had said it.
But Gojo? He knew what he was doing.
You had helped him. You had made him feel seen.
And now... well, now he would make sure you never left his side.Â
Suguru: Maid to Fall for You
The girls were turning six this weekend, and all they could ask for was some⊠magical girl doll? Suguru recognized the figures. Satoru used to make him watch that show all the time. Yet, did they really need to sexualize the magical girls so much?Â
Suguru was genuinely concernedâhow could anyone fight in a mini skirt and high-heeled boots? But, if thatâs what the girls wanted, then thatâs what they would get.
The problem was that the doll was so limited edition, the only place in Tokyo that had it was this⊠maid cafe? Suguru sighed, looking at the cute pastel pink exterior of the shop. He had missions to complete and didnât exactly want to be seen here.
As the bell above the door jingled when he stepped inside, Suguru scanned the room. His eyes were immediately caught by you.
Was it the pretty lolita black dress with the dark red bow tied around your waist? Or maybe it was the collar wrapped around your neck, or the cute garters hugging the soft fat of your thighs. Perhaps it was the little cat ears with bells that sat perched atop your head.Â
No⊠it had to be the way you looked at him. Your flushed face, the innocent sparkle in your dewy eyes as you purred, âWelcome home, Master!â
Oh, God. Suguru had to bite his lip to stifle a frustrated groan. The cuteness aggression was overwhelming. He just wanted to pick you up, throw you over his shoulder, maybe chain you to his bed so no one could ever find out how adorable you were.
No. No, he couldnât think like that. He was here for one thing, and one thing only. He wasnât some pervert who went to maid cafes. But still⊠he couldn't help but wonder if the dress came with matching⊠No! He couldnât think like that either.
âYes, I, uhâŠâ Suguru, fumbling with his words? A first. âI need a limited edition magical girl doll. The pink one and⊠the purple one?â
You blinked for a moment, and then your eyes lit up in recognition.Â
âYouâre a fan of Magical Girl: X&X too? Oh my goodness, Iâm a huge fan too!âÂ
You squealed, practically bouncing on your heels as you turned to lead him toward the back of the store. Suguru had to look away, his cheeks flushing slightly as he tried to keep his gaze from lingering on how cute you were. Focus, Suguru. Focus.
You practically skipped toward the back of the store, the sound of your little heels clicking on the floor making Suguruâs heart race. He couldnât stop his eyes from following the sway of your hips as you led him deeper into the shop. The way the skirt of your dress swished, revealing cute little bloomers under your petticoat. He mentally slapped himself. He had to keep his thoughts in check, focusing on the task at hand. Geto Suguru was not some pervert!Â
As you reached the display, you turned to face him with an excited gleam in your eye. âHere it is! The last one in stock,â you said, pointing proudly to a pair of limited edition dolls. The pink one, with her sparkling pigtails, and the purple one, holding a very magical looking wand.Â
Suguru's gaze briefly flickered to the dolls, but then it shifted back to you. The way your eyes lit up, the excitement in your voiceâit was all so⊠intoxicating. Like you were holding onto his every word. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.
âThanks,â he mumbled, still not quite sure how to behave around you. "I didnât expect⊠I didnât think it would be so hard to get."
You giggled, a soft, melodic sound that made something flutter in his chest. âWell, Magical Girl: X&X is a very popular series! Itâs hard to find the dolls, especially the limited edition ones. Iâm glad you came in time.â
Suguru didnât trust his voice to speak anymore. He just nodded and pulled out his wallet, handing over the money. You didnât even look at the transaction, instead continuing to talk to him as you carefully wrapped the dolls in bright, crinkling pink paper.
Focus, Suguru. Focus on the dolls. Youâre just here for the dolls.
But how could he? His eyes couldnât seem to leave the way you tilted your head just slightly, your little cat ears bobbing with every movement. The little jingle that came with every movement. And the way you smiled at him, so genuinely, with that adorable little glint in your eyes that made something inside of him twist. He couldnât stop itâhis heart was pounding, and his brain was screaming at him to do something.
You handed him the dolls with such enthusiasm, your hands barely brushing against his fingers as you passed the package over to him.
Oh god, even the way you handed me the dolls is cute. Why are you so cute?
Suguru swallowed hard, the overwhelming desire to just⊠hug you, smother you, rising up in his chest. He wanted to pick you up, hold you close, and just protect you from the world. He wanted to be the only person you ever looked at, the only one you ever smiled at like that.
You were practically defenseless anyways.Â
But he had to hold himself back. He couldnât be that person, could he? No, noâhe was here for a reason. He was supposed to be here for the dolls.Â
âUh⊠Thanks,â Suguru managed to choke out, his voice coming out hoarse and unsteady. He was so aware of the way his hands were shaking, holding the package. He needed to leave. Now.
But you were still looking up at him, your lips curving into a playful little smile. âYou know, youâre really serious about this, arenât you, Master?â You giggled, the sound so light, so melodic that Suguru almost felt like he could die from the sheer cuteness of it all.Â
No, no, stop, Suguru! Stop!
âIâyeah, I guess,â he muttered, looking anywhere but at you. His gaze darted over to the corner of the room, anywhere but those soft eyes that were making his chest feel like it was going to explode.Â
The urge to reach out and squeeze your cheeksâto just hold youâwas so strong. His fingers twitched, his jaw clenched. He wanted to pull you closer, get a better look at how delicate you were, how fragile.Â
âI hope you enjoy your figures, Master!â You brightly smiled up at him. God, how he wanted to strangle that pretty little neck of yours. How he wanted to tug on that collar so tight that you were choking with tears in your eyes. How he wanted to bite your cheeks to see what sounds youâd make.Â
Stop smiling like that. Stop acting so cute. Itâs too much. Itâs too fucking much.
His hands tightened around the package, the sharp edges digging into his palm. He wanted to scream, to yell at you to stop making him feel like this. But instead, he just smiled back, a smile that felt more like a grimace than anything else.Â
âRight⊠right. I will,â Suguru said, his voice barely a whisper now. âIâll⊠Iâll come back soon.â He forced the words out, though they felt foreign on his tongue. The truth was, he didnât just want to come backâhe wanted to stay. He wanted to be close to you. He wanted to know everything about you, every little detail.Â
You smiled even wider, completely unaware of the danger you were putting yourself in. âIâll be here! Iâll be waiting for you, Master!â
Suguru turned on his heel, trying desperately to calm his racing heart as he walked toward the door. But the entire time, his thoughts were consumed by you. The way you looked at him. The way your voice sounded when you called him âMaster.âÂ
His thoughts spiraled as he stepped outside, gripping the package tightly in his hands. His chest felt tight, constricted. He had never felt this way about anyone before. This level of intensity, this overwhelming desire to possess and protectâit was like nothing he had ever experienced. He didnât know whether to run or stay. All he knew was that you were the most perfect person he had ever met, and the more he thought about you, the more he spiraled.
But you were still so innocent. So dumb to how he felt. And thatâthatâwas what made it so unbearable.
Nanami: Online Dating
Nanami Kento didnât have time for dating. Not that anyone believed him when he expressed that.
Gojo, that meddling idiot, had sneakily downloaded a dating app on his phone, swiping through profiles until Nanami found himself matched with youâa party girl, as Gojo put it. The last thing Nanami needed was some whirlwind romance or a string of distractions. He had work to do, responsibilities to handle. Yet here he was, standing outside a quaint little cafĂ©, a man of routine now playing the part of someone interested in this game.
He glanced down at the photos on his phone. There you were: pictures of you laughing with friends at clubs, holding drinks in your hands, the glamorous nights out at fancy restaurants. And then there were the modeling shotsâposing next to sleek supercars, all shiny and polished. Nanamiâs lips pressed into a thin line.
He didnât need to be a mind reader to know you were probably a disaster waiting to happen. You had issues, he could tell. And that was the last thing he wanted to get entangled in. He wasn't the type to judge a book by its cover, but he knew enough to assume you wouldnât be the kind of woman he'd ever bring home to his parents.
His brows furrowed slightly, a sigh leaving his lips as he shoved the phone into his pocket. He adjusted his long coat, letting the cool evening breeze swirl around him. This date was probably going to be a waste of time.
Then, out of nowhere, you appeared.
You walked toward him in a soft pink maxi dress, the delicate fabric flowing behind you like some ethereal vision. A simple, sweet white bow tied neatly in your hair. You radiated a charm, an innocence that Nanami hadnât expected, and for a brief moment, his chest tightened with something he couldnât immediately place.
You smiled at him, sweet and genuine, and he couldn't help but feel...
âAm I late?â you asked softly, your head tilting as you looked up at him, your eyes bright with genuine concern. âSorry, I had a late shift at the cocktail bar I work at, so I was really worried I was going toââ
Your voice trailed off as you noticed the strange expression on his face. Nanami blinked, clearing his throat, but the chill of his cynicism seemed to melt under your gaze. The hardness in his chest softened, and that unsettling feeling gnawed at him again, the one that made him feel like he should be on guard. But why? Why did you make him feel like this?
âNo,â he said, his voice gruff but steady. âYouâre fine. Iâm just... surprised.â
He hadnât meant to say that last part out loud, but there it was. He was surprisedâsurprised by how genuine you seemed. It wasnât the image heâd built in his mind based on the photos. He was used to women who were superficial, all looks and no substance, but you⊠you didnât fit that mold.
You smiled again, this time a little more shyly, before giving a small nod. âIâm glad. I really didnât want to make you wait too long.â
Nanami nodded curtly, unsure of what to do with this strange reaction inside him. His eyes studied you more closely now, noting the little detailsâthe way you moved with a kind of quiet grace that almost made him forget the judgment he had passed on you. You werenât like the other women heâd met, and that was... unsettling.
You stepped closer, the scent of your perfumeâsomething light and floralâlingering in the air around him. He found it strangely intoxicating, though he hated to admit it.
"So, what do you want to do?" you asked, the sweetness in your tone making him feel almost... guilty. He was supposed to be the one guiding this evening, not you. But it was hard to ignore the pull you had over him already.
He cleared his throat again, pushing the discomfort aside. âI was thinking dinner. Nothing fancy.â
You smiled softly, your eyes twinkling, but there was something behind that smileâsomething that made his stomach twist, and not from discomfort. It was an entirely different kind of tension, one he had no intention of analyzing too deeply.
âSounds perfect,â you agreed.
As the Date Continues:
Nanami hadnât expected much, but as the evening wore on, he found himself listening to you in a way he hadnât done for a long time. You werenât just talkative, you were engaging, and each laugh that escaped your lips seemed to stir something inside him. You were kind, warm, easy to talk toâand it was starting to unsettle him. This wasnât what he had imagined, and that, in and of itself, was a problem.
Every time you reached across the table to grab your drink, or brushed a lock of hair from your face, Nanami couldnât shake the growing sense of... need. It wasnât the typical attraction he feltâthis was different. You were slipping under his skin in a way that was both dangerous and familiar.
By the time the meal was over, Nanami was no longer concerned about how out of place he felt. He was no longer thinking about the party girl who didnât fit into his carefully constructed life. Instead, he found himself obsessed with the way you moved, the way you spoke. Everything about you now seemed... necessary.
âAre you sure you want to head home alone?â Nanami asked, his voice quieter than before.
You paused, blinking in surprise, but your smile remained sweet. âIâm used to it. My apartmentâs not far.â
For a moment, Nanami didnât speak, just watched you with an unreadable look in his eyes.Â
âIâll walk you to your door,â he said finally, his tone calm, as he gave you a smile. âItâs the right thing to doâÂ
Choso: Heart Shaped Lattes
Choso stood outside the small café nestled in the heart of Akihabara, waiting for Yuji and his friends. The city buzzed around him, but he remained still, his gaze distant as he watched the passing crowds. His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling his attention. It was a message from his little brother:
âSorry Choso! Weâre running a bit behind, you can order first if you want! :)â
Of course, he wasnât upset. Even though Yuji was already fifteen minutes late, and Choso had been awkwardly standing alone outside, he would never feel anger toward his brother. It was just a small thing. A human thing.
With a quiet sigh, he pushed open the cafĂ© door, and the familiar sounds of clinking cups and soft lofi music washed over him. The dimly lit interior felt cozy, a warm contrast to the bustling streets outside. Chosoâs tired eyes scanned the room, his thoughts clouded as he made his way to the counter, gaze fixed on the floor.
âOne latte. Please,â he ordered in his usual low, steady voice. He glanced up at the menu, as if the words there would help him understand what to say next. âHot.â
It was the only drink Yuji had introduced him to, and despite its simplicity, Choso had come to enjoy it. There was something comforting about it. Something predictable. He was still getting used to thisâthis human lifestyle, the routine, the small moments that made up their lives.
The barista behind the counter smiled, her eyes warm as she took his order. Choso barely noticed the kindness in her expression, too focused on his own thoughts to appreciate the way she smiled at him. She handed him the receipt with a soft clink, and he nodded in acknowledgment before stepping away to find a table.
The cafĂ© wasnât crowded, but it wasnât empty either. It was just the right amount of busy that allowed Choso to sit quietly in the corner, unnoticed. He chose a seat by the window, glancing at his phone again to see if Yuji had messaged. Nothing. He smiled faintly. He could wait. He had all the time in the world.
A moment later, his latte arrived, set on the table with a soft clink of ceramic against wood. Chosoâs eyes flicked down to the cup as the barista placed it in front of him. He froze.
There, on the surface of the coffee, was something unexpected. A perfect heart, etched into the foam.
Chosoâs breath caught in his throat. His mind spun in confusion. Why was his heart beating so fast? Was itâan enemy? Was someone threatening him? No⊠that wasnât it. This wasnât danger. It was something else. Something he didnât understand.
Blood rushed to his face, and he quickly glanced away, his eyes darting around the cafĂ© in a frantic search for a distraction. But there was nothing. Nothing to explain this.Â
No. It wasnât possible. Was it?
His gaze snapped back to the barista. The girl who had taken his order. Her face was bathed in the soft glow of the cafĂ© lights, and now that he was lookingâreally lookingâhe saw how stunning she was. Her lips were slightly pressed, a small concentration as she worked, preparing drinks with smooth, delicate movements.
You. You were the one who had made the heart in his coffee.
Choso swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. His pulse was erratic, the sensation almost overwhelming.Â
A heart. You had put a heart in his latte. The pretty little barista.
That must mean⊠love, right?
His mind raced with the possibilities. Was this some kind of sign? A gesture? Were youâinterested in him?
No. It couldnât be. He didnât even know your name. He had barely spoken to you, hadnât even properly looked at you until now. But still⊠the heart was something. It had to mean something.
He couldnât tear his eyes away as you moved behind the counter, your every action now laced with meaning. The simple task of preparing drinks had transformed into something so intimate, so personal.
Choso leaned forward, his fingers curling tightly around the edge of his coffee cup. His thoughts churned as he staredâŠ.at that sweet little heart.Â
Yuji and his friends would be here soon, but for now, he was lost. Lost in the warmth of the coffee, and in the warmth of a feeling that was newâand so very dangerous. A feeling that crept into his chest, tugging at something dark inside him.
Choso couldnât help himself. He ordered at least three more drinks before his friends showed up. His heart is racing every time. Each time, you greeted him with that same smile, handing him the perfect coffee, each cup as flawless as the last. Each one had that sweet little heart in the foam. When you even gave him a free pastryâsomething small, something extraâhe was sure of it.Â
Surely, this was love.
Surely, he was meant to be here every day, because you twoâyou and himâwere meant for each other, right?
This was what a soulmate was.Â
Shoko: Medical SchoolÂ
Oh, medical school. What a joke.
Shoko could cheat her way through most of her labs using her techniqueâhealing, manipulating, fixing. But there was one thing she couldnât control, couldnât fake: Organic Chemistry.
She could easily fix broken bones, curse away a cold, hell, when her students lost limbs, Shoko could put them back together without even breaking a sweat. But Organic Chemistry? That was her undoing.
How was she supposed to understand what a nucleophilic attack was? Why were there shapes in chemistry?
It was a joke.
Which, of course, led her to you.
It was a slow morning, and Shoko dragged herself to the lecture hall, already exhausted from last nightâs work. She slumped into the back row, hoping to at least catch a nap while pretending to take notes. Her eyes half-lidded, she scanned the room, not expecting anything interesting. That was until youâsweet, innocent little youâsat right next to her.
âHah... I was worried I wasnât going to make it. I never miss a lecture, yâknow!â You said brightly, your accent heavy from one of the more rural areas of Japan. You were so⊠casual, so warm.
You leaned over, extending your hand to her with a smile. âIâm Y/n, and you areâŠ?â
Shoko blinked, looking at your outstretched hand for a long beat, her gaze flickering from the innocent shine in your eyes to the warmth in your palm. She didnât even bother to hide the smirk that tugged at her lips.
âIeiri Shoko,â she hummed, amusement dancing in her tone as she took your hand and gave it a firm shake.
You were like a cute little puppy, werenât you? Too trusting, too innocent.
She could already picture you with a tail waggingâcompletely unaware of what she might do to you.
Then, her gaze shifted.
You pulled out your notesâso detailed, so organized. Color-coded, of course, and even had cute little doodles in the margins explaining everything. A simple little smiley face here, a heart there, like a childâs drawing. Everything was perfect.
It irritated her. Not in the usual way. It wasnât jealousy. No, it was something else. Something darker. Something that whispered: Youâre the answer. You could help meâŠ
Shokoâs eyes lingered on the page as she tried to suppress the urge to take those notes. She wasnât proud of it, butâwell, she had to admit it to herself. Organic Chemistry was her weakness. And you? You were her ticket to fixing that.
It didnât take long for Shoko to fail the first exam. Sheâd be fine, of course. She could always cheat. But for now, it was an excuse to get closer to you.
She leaned over, her tone casual, but with a hint of something moreâsomething almost⊠possessive.
âYour notes,â she began, voice dripping with barely-contained amusement, âtheyâre cute.â
Your face lit up immediately, a pure excitement in your eyes as you beamed at her. âOh, thank you! I almost always get a seat in the front, but today I just missed my train after my shift at the Lawson, and wellââ
Shoko didnât need the backstory. She never did.
Her lips curled into a teasing, playful pout, the kind that didnât quite reach her eyes, which glinted with something more dangerous. She leaned in just a little closer, lowering her voice.
âCould you lend them to me?â she asked, her tone silky and smooth, the words almost too innocent. âI really need them for studying. And I didnât quite catch everything in the lectureâŠâ
Your enthusiasm was infectious. You beamed, completely unaware of the darker edge in her voice. âWell, I canât exactly lend them to youâŠbut I could give you a copy!â you chimed brightly. Your excitement was so pure, so sweet, it made Shoko have to stifle a laugh.
Oh, you were cute.
Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as if she were plotting something already. âSure, sure. How about you come over to my apartment and drop them off, yeah? Maybe we could study together too⊠You seem to know your stuff.â
She watched as you nodded eagerly, too eager. Someone could just easily kidnap you, couldnât they?
âOh, that would be great! Hereâs all my contact information!â you chirped, pulling out your phone and eagerly handing it to her.
Shoko took the phone from your hand, the faintest smile playing at her lips.Â
You had already caught her interest. In more ways than one.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk geto#jjk gojo#geto suguru#geto x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#Nanami x Reader#Yandere#Yandere Geto#Yandere Nanami#Yandere Choso#Yandere Shoko#Yandere Gojo#Shoko x Reader#Choso x Reader#JJK Nanami#jjk Shoko#Suguru x Reader#Kento x Reader#satoru x reader#Yandere Fluff#jjk yandere
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because even then, i knew â l.sm { 1 }
genre: non idol! seokmin x reader, stanger to lovers / kdrama au
cw: female reader, petnames, cursing, seokmin is desperately down bad, slowburn, pining, so much fluff, mentions of alcohol, consuming alcohol, nsfw, oral (f recieving) protected sex, mentions of cheating, angst
wc: 21k
tracklist: {spotify} {apple music}
navigation: {one} {two}
note: this story is my absolute baby. i stared writing it one day with no plot in mind, and ended up with 45k. it's supposed to feel like a kdrama as you read it (and i mean this in every sense of the wordâyou will see), so please listen to the tracklist as you scroll. the songs are carefully timed in order to play as you read certain parts, but if you're not sure you're listening to the right song, part two will tell you where you should be and you will resync.
please love this story, it was written with an unbelievable amount of care, detail, and intention.
audio message from: seokmin <3Â
â¶ïž âąáá||á|á||||áá|âą 0:58
âHey. I know we havenât talked in a while but⊠I wanted you to know that I miss you, and I miss us. And⊠Iâm in love with you, if that means anything to you now.âÂ
âĄ;- ê° Â° one ê±
Love at first sight is undoubtedly the biggest fabrication that the media and modern culture has ever tried to push on society. It only happens in the movies, and even then, itâs barely done right. There is no such thing as happy endings, because thatâs not how things are in the real world.Â
Make no mistake; Lee Seokmin is not a pessimist, nor is he a bitter person. Heâs the kind of guy who helps old people cross the street during rush hour, or helps kids pluck their balloons out of trees so they wonât cry. He actually does like long walks on the beach, as a matter of fact, and he happens to be a casual enjoyer of rom-coms, something his other male friends would rather die than admit to.Â
Once upon a time, he used to be a hopeless romantic, but that rug was pulled out from under him on a few too many occasions, and while heâs still a positive, amicable guy, he had learned that sometimes, things were too good to be true.Â
For example: when he was 7, he fell in love.
His 20 year old babysitter, who his parents had hired to watch over him on evenings while they were at work, was absolutely perfectâhe knew from the moment he met her, she would be the girl heâd marry.Â
She was Korean, and a freshman in college with a major in business management. Every week, she would walk hand-in-hand with him to the corner store to buy him sausage sticks and sticky tteokbokki at the food cart with the money she could spare from her part time job as a tutor, since his parents would only leave money for emergencies. In return for her generosity, heâd sit still and play while she finished her homework, and occasionally, Seokmin would even pick flowers from his momâs garden for her. This earned him a few scoldings, but that didnât matter to him, because she was, and would always be worth it.Â
Until one day, where he had promised to behave while she finished a practice test. Poor, unsuspecting, seven-almost-eight-year-old Seokmin with his cheeks stuffed full of sausage and rice cake, overheard her calling another boy (albeit a boy her age who could actually reciprocate her affection) a sweet name over the phone. He dropped everything and stomped over to her, bursting into tears and rambling on about how she broke his heart. She was fired the very same evening as a consequence of his tantrum.Â
When he was 14, he fell in love again. And this time, it had to be love⊠right?Â
A family of foreigners had moved in across the street, and their daughter, who was the same age as him this time around, would come over to study with him after school and on the weekends. Sheâd teach him English, and heâd teach her Korean. She was his first kiss and his first girlfriendâthey lasted a reputable two monthsâuntil they moved back overseas. Apparently, her parents had only moved there for the summer as part of a work-related trip, and when they said goodbye and promised to write, little Grace revealed she didnât want a committed, long-distance relationship at the ripe age of fourteen.
In retrospect⊠maybe she was right, but Seokmin would never forget the way his heart shattered.Â
The only real, long-term girlfriend heâs had was a little over two years ago. They dated for over a year, she met his parents and he met herâs, the two of them even exchanged promise rings. At the time, he would gush to his friends about how heâd never met anyone as funny and brilliant as her, and how lucky he feels to have done so.Â
Then, the week before his birthday, Seokmin found out she had been sleeping with her best friend for months.Â
Love at first sightâtrue loveâIt was a flat out lie, and he refused to fall for its charm ever again.Â
So why, he thinks to himself, why canât he stop looking at you?Â
He noticed you for the first time last week after his car had been totaled during an impromptu road trip the day prior. Soonyoung, one of his best friends, had gotten on the subway while drinking and somehow ended up eight stops away from his apartment at an ungodly hour in his wasted state. Seokmin was the only one that answered the phone. He picked him up, but on the way back, Soonyoung tried to crawl out the window of the passenger seat and Seokmin, whilst trying to pull him back inside, had crashed into a tree.
The car was old, and he was saving up for a new one anyway. That, and the insurance gave him some chump change for the wreckage, which was more than heâd thought heâd get, so it wasnât too bad. The biggest inconvenience he faced now was getting to and from work.Â
Every night, after his shift at the flower shop, Seokmin would take the bus transit home. The first night, he only saw you in passing, because he practically had to run after the bus to catch it after arriving late to the stop. He took the first seat he could find, panting and exhausted after his long shift and the blip of a marathon he just ran, and sunk down into it.Â
Since he had never needed to take the bus until now, he spent some time glancing out the window and studying the route, discovering the stop near his apartment was the very last one, arriving at nearly 10:00 P.M. Yours was the second to last one, only a few blocks over. That evening, he only barely caught a glimpse of the side of your face as you climbed off, crossing the street and strolling out of sight with way too many things clutched within your jacketed arms.Â
The following night, he made it to the bus on time, thankfully, and spotted you sitting near the back, though that didnât mean much to him yet. He took his same seat near the front, despite the many empty spots throughout the vehicle. And just like before, at the second to last stop, you walked down the middle aisle to exit.Â
This time, while wrestling your books, laptop case, walkman, and coat, your headset wire had snagged on the seat in front of him. He watched as you turned around and detangled it hurriedly, your gaze barely flickering up to meet his curious one for a split second. You flashed him a ghost of a smile and then, you were gone again.Â
Seokmin found himself looking forward to seeing you every single night from then on.Â
He decided to start sitting in the back of the bus too, blaming his avid interest in you purely on the distorted conclusion that it made no sense to sit in the front! He was always the last one aboard, and the back had so many more seats for him to get comfortable.Â
Thatâs what he convinced himself of, at least for the first few days. He tried sitting in a couple different spots, though he wouldnât dare sit too close to youâheâs not that bold. He did, however, decide after his trial and error period that his favorite seat was the far left one on the last row. Your seat was forever unchanging, on the second to last row and all the way to the right.Â
This way, he could watch over your shoulder as you typed away on your computer. You seemed to be writing something personal, because night after night, youâd create paragraph after paragraph, working tirelessly to craft whatever it was that you were working on so extensively. He figured it couldnât be just any assignment or work-related exposition. This meant something to you, and that only spiked his curiosity more. The only pause in your routine of clicking away at keys was skipping a song or two on your walkman or glancing out the window for inspiration.
Heâs never sat close enough to actually read the words on your screen, but then again, that might be overstepping a bit. The urge does frequently bug him, though, especially when he notices how immersed you become the moment you lift the screen of your laptop and open your document. Every night, he watches you do the same thing, and every night, he fights the urge to strain his neck and catch a glimpse of a single word on your screen.Â
He contains himself, though, on the principle that eavesdropping is wrong, and he intends to never do you wrong.Â
On the sixth night he spends in his new seat, he notices about twenty minutes in when your fingers stop clicking away. At first, he considers the possibility that you may be thinking or planning your next sentence. But, as the bus nears your stop, you donât move to start picking up your things. It immediately alerts him, and he sits up straighter as he realizes, youâve fallen asleep.Â
Heâs never given something so simple so much thought in such a short time. He can feel the bus slowing down, and he can hear the brakes screeching and wheezing. Would he feel worse for disturbing your rest and making an inevitably awkward first impression, or letting you continue to sleep and possibly (definitely) miss your stop?Â
Certainly the latter.
Without a second thought, Seokmin hurriedly slides out of his aisle and climbs down the two steps of the back row to reach you at your seat, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder and giving it a light shake. You donât budge, even when he calls out to you.Â
âExcuse me, Miss. Miss?âÂ
As the bus comes to a full stop and the engineâs roar becomes suppressed, he can hear the music playing through the headset that sits still over your ears. With a grimace, he softly slips them off, and the action is enough to stir you awake. You blink in confusion as you adjust to the brightness of the lights inside the bus, and your eyes land on his widened ones.Â
âSorry for waking you, but,â he gestures outside, âthis is your stop.âÂ
You look around to confirm, and upon seeing the familiar intersection and corner store, you realize what heâs saying is true.
A few things go through your head: First of all, the stranger in front of you has the kindest brown eyes youâve ever seen. Secondly, his nose is absolutely huge, and for some reason, he knows your stop, which makes you wonder where else heâs capable of poking it. So naturally, you ignore the sweet charm behind his eyes and shrug off his arm, grabbing your things quickly and booking it for the door that the bus driver has to reopen when he sees you approaching.Â
You climb off and consider taking a different route, but if he knows your stop, he likely knows which way you walk every single night. You curse at yourself for even falling asleep in the first place, then drag your feet along towards your apartment after accommodating your headphones back over your ears, your walkman clutched in hand, its music swirling in your ears once more.
Because of this, you miss the way Seokmin shouts after you for leaving your phone behind, and the way the bus driver then shouts at him for holding him up.Â
âIâve got a wife to get home to, kid. Get back on the bus or Iâm leaving you here.âÂ
He looks between the device in his hand, you, and back at the burly bus driver who raises a threatening brow his way.Â
In defeat, he gets back on board and walks down until heâs reached his seat, but not before stopping at yours, or rather stumbling there with how aggressively the driver steps on the gas and sends him flying. He does a quick once over your seat to make sure you havenât left or dropped anything else, but your phone is the only thing you forgot in your rush.Â
The drive to his street is rather short, and when he does some calculations on the maps app, he discovers itâs at most a half-hour walk from his place to yours. That revelation makes him regretful, because as he dismounts the bus, crosses the street, and climbs the flight of stairs to his apartment, he realizes he couldâve run after you and given you your phone and just walked home after. It wouldâve allowed him to explain that heâs not a creep, and that he only knows your stop because youâre the only other person on the bus at that hour.Â
He thinks about his encounter with you the whole way to his apartment, and even at home while he takes his shower and brushes his teeth. And still, when he plugs your dead phone in, so that he can give it to you fully charged the next day. As it comes to life, half a dozen messages come in with a series of âdingsâ from a contact you have saved as just a heart. He canât read what the messages say because of the privacy settings you have in place, so he just silences it as more messages come in. He would have tried to let them know your phone isnât with you, but the person with the heart alias never tries to call, and so thereâs nothing Seokmin can do about it but hope tomorrow comes quickly.Â
That thought brings him back to you, and as he lies down, he finds himself tossing and turning in bed, unable to fall asleep because heâs mulling over the way you shrugged him off. Itâs only the long day at work, where he spent eight hours on his feet watering ficuses and making arrangements with daisies and lilies, that manages to silence his brain and lull his eyelids to a close so he can get some rest.Â
Ë àŒâĄ âïœĄËÂ
His shift at the floral shop had gone by painfully slow today. The hours that usually pass relatively quickly with the friendly faces of Korean grandmas that stop by after going to the market, have dragged on for an eternity.Â
He reminds himself that heâs going to see you tonight and that thought gets him through the day. Heâll at last be able to redeem himself of the interaction thatâs been haunting him for the last twelve hours. He even dreamt about you, specifically about the conversation going a completely different way than it did.Â
âSorry for waking you, but this is your stop.âÂ
âOh, my god,â you said. âThank you. I didnât even realize I drifted off.â
âNo worries,â Seokmin would flash you a smile and help you with your things, since he had noticed your tendency to travel with more than you could carry. âHere.â
âThanks again, uhâŠâ
âSeokmin.â
âSeokmin,â youâd repeat, and even in his dream, he had reeled over the way his name rolled off your tongue.
In an extra effort to mend things over with you, Seokmin dips into his weekly paycheck at the end of his shift to buy you a tote bag from the shop. That way, youâd have a place to pack your laptop when you werenât typing up stories, and your coat that you insisted on draping over your arm? It could go in there, too!Â
Why you chose to listen to music on a walkman in todayâs modern age, he has no ideaâbut now youâd have a place to store it so you wonât leave it behind like you had your phone.Â
The tote bag he picks out for you is the nicest, most sizable one in stock. Itâs the first time heâs bought anything from the floral shop, so the measly ten percent employee discount he got was rather underwhelming. Still, it would be worth it. Heâd hand you your phone, explain himself to clear up the previous night's confusion, and offer you the tote bag as a gift.Â
When he climbs on the bus later that evening, youâre sitting in the same spot as always, except this time, youâre expecting him. Your eyes flash up at him then fall back to your laptop. Subsequently, you slump further down in your seat, and Seokmin quickly realizes youâre trying to avoid him.Â
Nowâhe had talked himself through the plan of approaching you all day, itâs all he thought about during the less busy hours of his shift to pass the time. He had walked through the process once, twice, and then again in hopes of nailing down every detail, but he didnât once account for your very obvious disinterest.Â
It offsets his mood entirely, which was confident and sociable just moments ago, and he trails down the aisle, past your seat, and to his own instead with discouragement.Â
The moment he sits, itâs as if someone winded up his leg: it starts restlessly bouncing, and his mind mirrors the action, his inner monologue providing no relief for his grief.Â
If he was any other rational person, he wouldâve taken your coldness with a grain of salt; heâd hand you your phone, say âyou left this.â and go on about his dayâno, his life, as if this moment, as if meeting you, was nothing more than an insignificant scene in the story of his life. He wouldnât spend every hour overthinking your first impression of him, or feeling disappointed that it wasnât what he wanted it to be. And he certainly wouldnât be here, talking himself up to the task of walking over to you once more.Â
Even his own forgiving conscience is embarrassed when he readies himself to stand, chanting âOk. 3âŠ2âŠâ and then sits back down in defeat.Â
This goes on for the better part of an hour, until Seokmin remembers youâd be getting off soon. This realization materializes as the last person besides the two of you gets off, and the familiar buildings that are just a few blocks away from your stop come into view. At the same time, a new string of messages come in from the same individual who was writing to you last night, and Seokmin decides itâs about time that he returns your phone to youâfor real this time.Â
With a nod to himself, he pushes off the chair with his legs and forces them to move him over to you, where he stands for a few seconds, waiting for you to notice him. In one hand, heâs holding out your phone, and under his other arm is the folded tote bag heâs planning to give you. He canât get his tongue to comply, making his feet work was hard enough, so hovers over you a little longer until you practically feel his eyes on you and look up.Â
âHiââÂ
You slide your headphones off one ear, and he clears his throat.Â
âHi.â He repeats, âMy name is Seokmin. Iâm the guy who woke you up last night.âÂ
âI know.â You cast your eyes down to your phone and he leans it closer to you.
âYou left your phone here.âÂ
Your lips purse contemplatively as you take it, mumbling out a quick âthanks,â and unlocking it to inspect your pile of notifications. Seokmin only clears his throat again.
âI also wanted to apologize for yesterday. I didnât mean to come off as a weirdo, Itâs justââ
You seem to lose focus of what heâs saying as you read through the messages on your phone, a deep frown molding over your features. The fact that youâre not listening at all trips him up, especially when heâs trying so hard to recite the mental script he prepared for this very moment.Â
âUh, I just⊠The only reason I know your stop is because itâs only you and me on the bus this late. So, you knowââÂ
As he points this out, you perk your head up and look around, as if to check for yourself that this is, in fact, true. It doesnât ease your apprehension about him, but his kind eyes look so desperate in their plea for your understanding that, for a fleeting instant, you manage to hone in on his explanation and dismiss your suspicions about his nosy tendencies.Â
âNaturally, I just noticed, and I didnât want you to miss your stop.â
When you nod once and say âok,â he almost wishes you hadnât said anything at all. Thatâs it? Thatâs all you have to say to ease his discomfort?Â
âOh, I almost forgot,â he didnât almost forget, he just wanted to sound nonchalant, âI got you this since youâre alwaysââÂ
âWell, SeokminâŠâ Itâs even better than in his dream, hearing you say his name, âYou should know better than me by now that,â you point outside and the bus reaches a halt, âthis is my stop.âÂ
Hurry up, Seokmin. âI got you this bag for your things.âÂ
You take it from his outstretched hands with the smallest mutter of gratitude, but donât bother to inspect it or put it to use. You simply pile it atop of your laptop and coat with pursed lips, not sparing it a second glance. Heâs almost confused about why youâre still staring him down expectantly after that, until it becomes clear to him that heâs blocking the aisle and in turn, your exit.Â
Somewhat awkwardly, Seokmin moves aside, and you waste no time in passing right by him and heading for the door with all your trinkets stacked up in your arms.Â
Dejection is an appropriate word to describe how Seokmin feels right about now. So is frustration.Â
Even after you leave, cross in front of the bus, and make your way home, Seokmin stands in the same spot, dumbfounded. He stays like this for a few seconds, even when the bus moves and messes with his balance. Itâs not until his annoyance really settles in, nestling in his bones and making his face glow red, that he manages to stomp back over to his spot and plop down.Â
You are easily the most irritating person he has ever met; ill-mannered, ungrateful, rude, and downright selfish. Seokmin stopped going to therapy months after he recovered from his ex, but he finds himself regressing in the âself-recognitionâ area at this moment. Although he can consciously acknowledge that his anger stems from your interaction not going as he wanted it to, he still decides to dump the blame on you and call you all these names in his head. Why he so desperately wants to be liked by you, he doesnât know. Why heâs irrationally spiraling in the absence of your approval, he also doesnât know.Â
What he does know is that the next twenty-four hours are going to be just as bad as the last, and heâs going to be kicking himself until he sees you again and gives you a piece of his mind.Â
Tonight, he rolls around in bed longer than usual, until the clock strikes two and he canât keep his eyes open any longer.
The next day, when Seokmin boards the bus, youâre nowhere to be seen. Youâre not at your seat, nor anywhere else for that matter, which he decides is for the best, because heâs able to swallow down his explosive complaints for another day instead of possibly causing a scene on the bus.Â
Ha! Youâre lucky you didnât get on tonight, he thinks, I'll spare you from my lecture for another evening.Â
Except the following night, you arenât there either.Â
As it turns out, you arenât on the bus for the next six days straight.Â
And instead of recovering from his emotions like a normal person, Seokmin is only spurred on, tormented and pursued by his thoughts of you. They've shifted, because now he can only help but wonder what youâre up to. Heâs back to square one, wondering if he weirded you out so much that you resorted to finding another means of transportation with the sole intention of avoiding him.Â
Then, he reproaches himself, his rationale telling him that surely, there must be another reason for your absenceâone that isnât at all related to him. He ponders this as he piles a few stems of lilies and eucalyptus on one another, wrapping them and tying them closed.Â
âSeokmin-ah. Whatâs the matter?â
He turns quickly to face Ms. Boo, the owner of the flower shop and the grandmother of his best friend. On more than a few occasions, she had acted as a grandmother to him, tooâbringing him lunches and pestering him about eating enough, or nagging him for not dressing properly in cold weather.Â
âNothing!â
âLook what youâre doing to my flowers.â She narrows her eyes, extending a wrinkled finger out in his direction.Â
Seokmin glances down to find that his knuckles have gone white against the stem of the babyâs breath he's been unconsciously shaking like a rattle. The delicate white flowers have been pulverized, reduced to white fuzz on the arrangement he was attempting to make and the surrounding surface of the work station.Â
âAh, shi-â She gives him a glare, âSorry.â He quickly rephrases, âIâll clean this up.â
As Ms. Boo straightens out some gardenias in a vase, she asks him again, âWhatâs wrong?âÂ
He takes a deep breath, reaching for the dustpan under the counter. âItâs just⊠Someone I met on the bus.â
âIs she pretty?â
âVery.â He nods, then sighs. âI just wish the conversation we had went differently, thatâs all.âÂ
âWell,â She seems to be mustering up her years of wisdom, eyebrows raising as she fixes her apron, âYouâre a handsome boy, Seokmin-ah. And youâve got good sense. God knows youâve got more than Seungkwan,â she grumbles the last part, and it makes Seokminâs lips curl up a bit. âYour car isnât fixed yet, right?â
He shakes his head, âNo.âÂ
âSo, then get back on the bus tonight and talk to her.â She insists with the assurance only an 85 year old grandmother could have.Â
âI would, butâŠâ
âAnd stop moping. Youâre making the flowers sad. They feel these kinds of things.â She nods, feeling the petal of the lily between her fingertips. Suddenly, she snaps her fingers, âFinish this arrangement and get back to work.â
He finishes brushing the white fuzz of the carnation into the dustpan and discarding it before tackling the bouquet he was previously working on with a tad more care. He finishes after deciding the pale flowers need a touch of color, so he adds a few pink roses and places it in a bucket near the front window of the store on display.Â
He takes a moment to glance outside at the busy street, watching the people that pass by. Couples stroll hand in hand, and more often than not, the girls will stop their partner to point out the flowers. This was a common occurrence, and if Seokmin was lucky, the displays would draw in a few more customers than usual.Â
Not today, though. As he does a once over every arrangement heâs chosen to display on the window, he realizes they all lack something besides effort. He canât put his finger on exactly what theyâre missing, but Ms. Boo was rightâ the plants do feel emotionsâand these werenât particularly joyous creations.Â
As he sprays the leaves with a little mist bottle he carries around in his apron, he watches through the window each person that passes by in an effort to pass the time. It isnât like thereâs much to do during the less busy hours, and thereâs only so many arrangements he can make when theyâre all coming out dull and lifeless to match his gloom.Â
So, Seokmin opts for people watching, until a specific individual catches him by surprise.Â
At first, he thinks heâs seeing things.Â
Not only have you stopped outside the shop to gaze and gawk at the flowers while wearing a soft, admiring look, but soon enough, the bell above the door has chimed, meaning youâve actually come inside.Â
He would greet you, as heâs supposed to do when a customer enters the shop, but he⊠canâtâat least not from where he is now, ducking behind the sales counter.
Before you could have spotted him, his fight or flight reflexes, or in this case just flight, had kicked in. He couldâve easily ran behind the curtain to the room where some of the flowers are stored, but then he wouldâve ran into Ms. Boo, who would have questioned his reasons for leaving the counter unattended.
Then, he realizes that Seungkwan wouldnât be coming in until later, and their other part-timer Eunchae didnât work today because she had an exam at school.
The service bell at the counter rings once and he grimaces, full of hopeful thinking that youâd just go away if no one appeared. Instead you ring it again, and he ducks lower, until some shuffling behind him and the voice of his best friendâs grandmother gives him away.
âSeokmin-ah, thereâs someone at the counter!â
Thereâs a pause, and though he canât see how your ears perk up at the sound of the familiar name, he knows heâs absolutely busted because even if you didnât correlate that âSeokminâ was also the same guy who woke you up on the bus, heâd be forced to show himself before long. Ms. Boo continues to ramble, much to his dismay.
âAre you still sulking over the pretty girl from the bus?â Yeah, thatâll do it. âAh, Seokmin-ah⊠I donât pay you to sulk.â
At this, Seokmin covers his face with his palm.Â
He has no way of knowing that as heâs willing and pleading with the ground to swallow him whole and spare him from the incoming embarrassment, Ms. Booâs comment had brought a little smile to your face. Youâre peering around the shop for him when you see someone start to peek out from the other side of the counter.Â
First, his fingers. They land on the marble surface, and less than a second later, his dark mop of hair follows, appearing past the slope. Then, his kind eyes, big nose, and his teeth, clenched together tightly in reluctance as he takes in your amused gaze.
You cross your arms over your chest and Seokmin scoffs, shooting up suddenly.Â
âThis is unbelievable!â His laugh is loud and theatrical, though a touch ironic, given the whole âhiding-from-you-behind-the-counterâ situation just seconds prior. He doesnât let his obvious preposterousness stop his rampage, though. In very Seokmin fashion, he commits to the bit, puffing up his chest a little. âYou call me a stalker and now you go and stalk me to my place of employment!âÂ
âI never called you a stalker.â You say simply, and his face falters only slightly. âNor did I stalk you.â Seokmin rolls his eyes as you continue. âAlso, who even says âplace of employment?ââÂ
As if straight out of a bad middle school play, which Seokmin had plenty of practice at back in his day, he regains his confidence at his turn to speak his line, scoffing again at your nonchalant attitude. Why were you so unbothered about the way you treated him? He ignores your question, and readies his next comeback.
âYeah? Well, then how did you know where I work, huh?â
When you wordlessly turn to show off the tote bag slung over your shoulder, a few things occur.Â
The color of Seokminâs cheeks become very red, very fast. His ears quickly glow a similar shade to match. He completely deflatesâletting up on his accusations and dropping the theatrics. Thereâs a reason heâs a florist and not an actor.Â
Then, he realizes what youâre showing offâthe tote bag! Youâre wearing the bag he got you! Youâre actually using it! He can see the wire of your headset poking out of the top, and the square mold of your laptop filling the material!
At the same time, however, his eyes land on the only design or pattern it has. Sewn in black, the bag boldly displays the name of Ms. Booâs flower shop. At this, Seokmin smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his neck. Â
âI figured Iâd find you here.â You mumble, taking a look around, âitâs a pretty place.â
âYeah.â He nods, but heâs still eyeing you suspiciously, waiting for you to announce the reason for your visit.Â
âI came toâŠâ your fingers reach over the counter to brush off the fuzz of the babyâs breath that remained on his dark green apron, and Seokmin tucks his chin to his chest, exposing all of his chins as his eyes shift between your hand and eyes that are both set on his torso.
âThere.â You sigh, âI came to apologize. I was going through a⊠Well, anyway, I wasnât exactly nice to you, soâŠâÂ
âYeah, thatâs an understatement,â Seokmin grumbles.
âSorry. And thank you.âÂ
âFor?â
You swing the bag around again, âIt came in handy.â
âOh,â He knew it would, âIâm glad.âÂ
âSeokmin-ah⊠Thereâs someone at theâOh, hello.â Shuffling over with a wad of eucalyptuses in her arms, Ms. Boo smiles warmly at you, as she does with all customers who stop by the shop.Â
âMs. Boo, this isâŠâ
âY/N.âÂ
âY/N.â Both of them echo your name, though Seokmin does it under his breath, in a quiet affirmation to himself. He decides instantly that itâs perfect, and that it suits you perfectly. He doesnât intend for it to be a Tony and Maria situation, but the way it sounds, rolling off his tongue, is seamless and simply, right.
âItâs lovely to meet you,â Ms. Boo adds. Â
âLikewise. Excuse me, I wanted to know if I borrow Seokmin real quick? I owe him a coffee.âÂ
Seokmin hisses apprehensively, reinstating his act momentarily as he begins rolling up his sleeve to search for the time on his watch. âYeah, well, my break isnât for anotherââ
âTake him, please. But only give him back when heâs in a better mood.â She gives him a light-hearted glare as she scurries away, calling out, âevery plant heâs walked past today has wilted.âÂ
âI plan to do just that. Thank you.âÂ
He makes it look like heâs in some kind of distress when he unties his apron and lifts the neckloop over her head, but really, he canât wait to cut work for a coffee with you. Thereâs a little cafe nearby, and heâs almost sure thatâs where youâll be taking him. He also canât wait to recommend his favorite drink to you, though part of him worries you might not enjoy it and consequently bruise his ego a littleâgiven the fading but still ever-present grudge heâs holding against you.
Seokmin canât help but prolong the act of clocking out: changing shoes, grabbing his wallet and phone from his cubby, folding his apron (instead of hanging it up in whatever state itâs in, as he usually does), while you shift your weight between your heels and gawk at him in wait. He does all this in an effort to extend the minutes he has with you. His break is fifteen minutes, but those fifteen minutes canât go by if the clock technically hasn't started counting.
You stand by patiently, following him around with your eyes as he tidies up a single flower out of place or wipes his hands down on a rag. When heâs finally ready, and canât be bothered to pretend that lacing his sneakers actually takes longer than two minutes, he joins you on the other side of the counter and follows you to the door.Â
Feeling a little nervous, he clears his throat. âYou donât have to do this, you know. We can just go our separate ways.âÂ
âI do. This way, I can properly convey my apology and gratitude. You know: two birds, one stone.âÂ
âThose are two separate things⊠Itâs only right that you would owe me two coffees then.â The way he grumbles under his breath unveils some of his bitterness, though you can tell by the half-hearted side-eye he gives you as he fights back a grin, that heâs really only messing with you.
So you laugh, and Seokmin feels his heart do a somersault in his chest. With a shake of your head, you turn to him, defeated. âAlright. You can get a coffee and a muffin.âÂ
Suddenly overwhelmed with the need to see your smile again, he brings his hand up to rub his chin, âHmm, I donât know. I donât really like muffins.âÂ
âWell, then Iâll just have to stop by tomorrow, too.âÂ
At this, Seokmin smiles from ear to ear, tilting his head away towards the street so that you donât catch the way he lights up at the prospect of possibly seeing you again.Â
As the two of you cross the street, you notice a bus stop a little up the way, nodding towards it so he can look. âIs that where you catch the bus?â He nods. âFunny, my stop is only two blocks down the street we came from.âÂ
Seokmin reaches for the door of the cafe, holding it open for you to walk through. To his delight, you seem to be fascinated by the spaceâmeaning itâs likely you havenât been here before. He watches as you study the rustic lights on the ceiling, the shiny wooden tables, and the botany at the window.Â
âThese look like the ones from your shop.âÂ
âThatâs because they are.â He stands beside you. âThe owner of the cafe loves the classics. So do I. So, in exchange for a floral arrangement or two, he lets me borrow a book.â He watches your gaze leave him to face the singular bookshelf he had gestured to, a tall collection of literary classics neatly sorted by author. Your eyes almost bulge out of your head as you take it in, mouth agape as you slowly step toward the shelves.Â
Not yet grasping the extent of your fascination, and with the line to order clearing out, Seokmin remembers heâs on a schedule. âDo you wanna order?âÂ
âIâŠâ You shake your head, fingertips ghosting over the spine of the books without grazing them, because you know better than to touch an antique collection. It doesnât stop you from admiring them, mumbling out a response to the boy next to you without giving it much thought. âI usually get⊠You know what, just order whatever for me.âÂ
You dig for your wallet in the tote bag, handing your card to him without tearing your eyes away from the sight before you. Seokmin only laughs and takes it without the slightest intention to use it. He orders you the drink he thinks you might like the best, as someone with a taste for the traditional things--like classic literature and walkmans--and orders himself a more sugary poison to nurture his sweet tooth.Â
When he pays, he doesnât use your card, but he wraps the receipt around it anyway so you wonât holster any suspicion that he did exactly what he did. He only checks over his shoulder to make sure youâre still distracted, and you are, ogling the books as if you had never seen anything as marvelous as the contents of this bookshelf before.Â
He feels something fluttering in his chest, and he knows very well what caused it, but he pays it no mindâopting instead for leaning into the cashier who heâs frequently talked to during his coffee breaks with his caffeine crazy friend, Boo Seungkwan.Â
âHey, Josh. Do you know if Mr. Kim is in today?â Kim Jongdae, the owner of the cafe, had a soft spot for the flower shop boys ever since they helped make him a beautiful bouquet for his wifeâs birthday. Then, for their anniversary and every celebration thereafter.Â
Joshua shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he starts on the drinks. âHeâs out for the day. Itâs the little oneâs birthday.âÂ
âShame. I wanted to borrow a book.â
âI mean⊠You know you can just grab any off the shelf.â He mumbles, hissing as he nearly burns his finger with the steaming espresso maker, âWhich one do you want?âÂ
âWhichever one she does.â He turns to you,âThatâs why I wanted to ask. Itâs not for me, but for her.âÂ
âAh.â Joshua looks between the two of you, without missing the gentle smile on Seokminâs face as he watches you. He only manages to look away when the older boy at the counter sets both drinks down and clears his throat. âHere.â
âRight.âÂ
âAnd about that book,â he gestures to you, âIâll ask Mr. Kim when I see him tomorrow.âÂ
âThank you, I appreciate it.â With both drinks and your card wrapped in his receipt all clutched in his hands, he makes his way over to you quietly, as if any abruptness would disturb your studying of each and every title. But you hear him comingâthat, or you smell the fresh coffee nearing youâso you spin around on your heels quickly, whisper-shouting as if he wasnât right beside you now.
âThis is incredible. Iâm usually at the library until I get on the bus butâthank you,â You take the drink and instantly bring it to your lips for a sip, âEven the library doesnât have this good of aâah, hot!âÂ
âBe careful!â Seokmin fights the urge to beckon his hand closer to you, but his shoulders still jolt up in concern that you may have burned yourself.
ââgood of a collectionâwow, this is really good.â Your shift in focus makes him hold back a snort.Â
âYou like it?âÂ
âYes, thank you. Should we sit?â He follows you to a table by the window, where the two of you can glance out at the bustling street as you chat.Â
âMs. Boo is nice.â You comment, as you notice one of the displays from the shop sitting at the sill.
âShe is. She nags, but itâs only because she cares. I wouldnât change anything about her.âÂ
You wear a warm smile on your lips as you take another sip, savoring the rich taste of your coffee. âI really like my drink. What did you get for yourself?â
Seokminâs fingers move lazily to push the cup towards you. âDo you wanna try it?â
You hesitate, your gaze flicking between his inviting smile and the drink. After a momentâs pause, you reach for one of the wrapped paper straws sitting near the sugar and salt. You peel it open, pop it into the cup, and take a sip. You seem to like it at first, but then, the overwhelming sweetness hits, a syrupy storm that floods your taste buds, and you immediately regret your decision.
Your face scrunches up in disbelief as you try not to choke on the sugary onslaught, your throat resisting the thick sweetness. âOh god,â you gasp, your eyes wide.
Seokminâs laughter bubbles up effortlessly, and he rolls his eyes, clearly entertained by your reaction. You slide the drink back across the table to him, still reeling from the shock of it. âThatâsâhow can you even drink that?â you manage between soft chuckles.
âReally? Itâs not that bad,â he says with a teasing grin, unbothered by the fact that youâre clearly struggling. âIâd say your drink needs an acquired taste.â
âMine? Iâm drinking coffee.â You set your cup down, now fully convinced that whatever heâs drinking is a bizarre concoction. âI donât know what youâre drinking.â
Seokmin shrugs, his grin only widening. âAgree to disagree.â His cheeks aching from the persistent smile that seems to be permanently affixed to his face now.
You laugh in disbelief before taking a few large gulps of your own coffee, feeling its familiar warmth wash over you and effectively wiping away the remnants of Seokminâs sugary disaster from your palate.
âSo,â you begin, eyes narrowing slightly as you shift your focus to him, âhow long have you been working there?â
âFor a year now.â He leans back slightly in his chair, clearly more relaxed than before.
âDo you like it?â you ask, your curiosity piqued.
He pauses, as if considering his words carefully before answering. âItâs⊠I mean, yes.â
You raise an eyebrow, âI spotted some hesitation there.â
He sighs, a quiet exhale of air as he rubs the back of his neck. âItâs not like I wanna be there forever.â His tone shifts, like heâs trying to brush off the weight of the subject, but it lingers.
Glancing down at your cup, you swirl it around absentmindedly to cool the contents. You try to lighten the mood, teasing him, âNot taking over Ms. Booâs position in the future?â
Seokmin smiles, clearly amused by the suggestion. âIâll leave that to her grandson. He works there, too.â He shrugs, a nonchalant gesture, but there's a quiet finality in his words.
Feeling the need to dig a little deeper, you sit up straight, eyes bright with curiosity. âOkay, so what is it that you wanna do?â
Seokminâs smile falters just a fraction, and for a brief moment, the easy-going confidence he always wears slips. His fingers fiddle with the edge of his cup, and he looks off into the distance, his expression turning distant. âItâs nothing,â he mutters, his tone dropping low.
You pause, sensing something behind the simplicity of his words, but you donât press further. âIt isnât nothing.â You shake your head, âItâs what you wanna do with your life. I wouldnât call that nothing.âÂ
After a brief pause that consists of looking between your eyes and playing with the syllables stuck thickly in his mouth, Seokmin mumbles a single word. âMusic.âÂ
âMusic?â You echo him, then stay silent so he can elaborate. You can tell he feels some degree of discouragement, obvious in the way his shoulders slump down. His hands start fidgeting and he looks out the window again as he seems to recall some memory.Â
âBut itâs nothing serious right now. I mess around with my guitar and write stuff every once in a while, but⊠I havenât really played sinceââÂ
âI would love to hear,â you cut him off, leaning forward, âIf you ever feel like showing someone, I would love to listen to you play.âÂ
Thereâs a sudden bitterness in his throat (that definitely isnât his coffee) as he recalls a slightly stirring memory. Itâs not as distant as he would like it to be, despite his attempt to store it in the âdo-not-openâ file of his mind, but it doesnât stop him from nodding along and agreeing to your offer with some apprehension, because truthfully, you had no part in carving that scar.
Simply put: you were not her.Â
âI havenât played in a while,â he rephrases, âbut when I pick it up again, youâll be the first person I show.âÂ
It doesnât take long before you start telling him about your studies, now that you had succeeded in interrogating him with a few of your burning questions, and it becomes apparent to Seokmin very quickly how easy conversation flows with you. Each word you utter is warm, welcoming, almost familiar, as if he had known you for longer than he didâand he suddenly feels very guilty for having misjudged you.Â
Itâs not like you know of the way he bad-mouthed you in his sensitive mind, so there really is no need to compensate for it. Even then, he feels he owes you somethingâlike he should make it up to you for thinking such things about a person of your nature.Â
He learns that youâre a student whoâs majoring in English literature, with the aspiration to be a writer. The two of you agreed that heâd show you his music, and youâd show him what youâre working onâthe last of which delighted him, seeing as heâd spent weeks trying to guess what your fingers typed away on your computer each night on the bus. You hate sugary drinks, that much you made clear, and you had a strong distaste for the smell of holiday candles.Â
Every word youâd spill left him on the edge of his seat, wanting to know more about you. If it wasnât for the fact that he needed to go back to work, heâd have sat with you for the whole afternoon listening to you talk.Â
But instead, you join him on his walk back to the flower shop, unknowingly having fulfilled your promise to bring him back in a better mood.Â
âMs. Boo?âÂ
âSeokmin-ah? Youâre back right on time. Thereâs a customer who needs a graduation arrangement for their son.â Seokmin can tell sheâs in the backroom, wrestling the hose to fill the watering can from the strain in her voice.
âIâll get my apron on!â He calls, then spins around to face you, âThank you for today. I liked my coffee, even if you didnât think it was great.âÂ
âGood to know. Iâll see you tomorrow, then?âÂ
âTomorrow? Wonât I catch you on the bus tonight?â As soon as the words leave his mouth, he hopes you didnât catch the disappointment behind them.
âTonightâs the last night of my study group, and those usually run late.â So thatâs why you hadnât been taking the bus lately, âSo, tomorrow it is. Unless you donât want that second coffeeâŠâÂ
âI do.â He insists, and your lips curl up as you reach for the doorknob.Â
âAlright, then.âÂ
The instant the door shuts behind you, he starts counting down the hours until he can see you again.Â
Ë àŒâĄ âïœĄËÂ
Seokminâs shift could not have gone any slower. Unlike any day before, the hours could not seem to pass, despite how badly he willed them to. Aside from Seungkwanâs occasional side-eyed-glares and complaints of his uncharacteristically fast work pace today, Seokmin has managed to complete his tasks for the day and more: he prepared two graduation orders placed last minute and a walk-in customer who was uncertain of what âIâm sorryâ bouquet to get his girlfriend, all while trying to appease potential buyers who entered the shop, drawn in by the six new bouquetâs heâd made this very same morning and displayed at the window.Â
All that, and itâs only fifteen past eleven in the morning.
âWhat has you in such a rush? Iâm like four orders behind you. Usually, itâs the other way around.â The last part is but a grumble under his breath.Â
Unable to explain, because he isnât exactly sure of the answer either, Seokmin brushes Seungkwan's suspicious raised brow off and mentions something that would pique his interest instead, in hopes of changing the topic.Â
âYou know Soonyoung said Chan blew him off for a date? They were supposed to go out drinking and thenââÂ
âAnd then Minji called him and he bailed, I know. Canât say Iâm surprised.âÂ
âAnd thenââÂ
âSlow down!â Seungkwan all but yanks the scissors from his best friendâs hands, which is, needless to say, not the safest thing to do, and puts them at his own station. âYouâve been hogging them for the last hour.â he hisses, âIf my grandma comes in and sees that Iâm this far behind, sheâll make me skip my break.âÂ
âI just need time to pass by quickly. I figure if I keep myself busy, it just might.âÂ
âTime doesnât work like that, idiot.âÂ
âActually, it does. Idiot.â He sneers back, and Seungkwan could not look more offended if he triedâeyes wide, lips puckered to shape a word he doesnât quite get to say. He swings back his arm, but before Seokmin could get smacked by the handful of tulips in his grip, Ms. Boo comes bustling through, humming a mindless tune as she clutches a pen and a few envelopes in her arms.Â
âBoys, I've got your pay for this week and the next. I have an appointment with Dr. Hong next Friday, so I wonât be here. I expect youâll take care of the shop while Iâmâthese arrangements are lovely. Who made them?âÂ
The boys look between each other, and Seokmin huffs out before answering. âWe both did, Ms. Boo.âÂ
âGood work. LovelyâŠâ She starts mumbling to herself again as she shifts her attention from the flowers at the windowsill to the bills in her hands, counting them and separating them into two even piles.Â
At Seokminâs reply (call it an unspoken truce), Seungkwan visibly relaxes, releasing the flowers before he could ruin them and scurrying over to his grandma. âHave you been taking your medicine? You know heâll scold you otherwise.âÂ
âIâm too old to be scolded,â She replies stubbornly, and their conversation fades momentarily as the door chimes again.Â
âWelcome to Botanicalâoh.â Seokminâs scripted introduction is cut short as he notices that itâs you who has entered the shop, wearing a small smile.Â
âHi.â You greet him, âand hello, Ms. Boo.âÂ
âHello.â She chirps, âY/N, was it?âÂ
âYes, thatâs right.âÂ
âHey,â Seokminâs wide smile, which nourished the moment he laid eyes on you, suddenly falters as he realizes the time. âShit, are you here for-âÂ
âLanguage.âÂ
âSorry,â he bows his head apologetically at Ms. Boo, then grabs your arm to drag you a little further from the pair, âI canât take my break right now.â He tells you, regretfully. Your smile falls a little.
âReally? I was looking forward to our coffee time. Plus, I desperately need some caffeine. Iâve been reading this boring manuscript since seven.â You scowl, gesturing to the stack of papers overflowing from your bag.
That pout, the one on your lips: it needs to be fixed as soon as possible. Seokmin holds a single finger up as he scours his brain for a plan, âWait here a second. Let me see what I can do.â With that, he turns around and speedwalks over to Seungkwan, who hands him his half of the money.Â
âHere.âÂ
âThanks.â Seokmin takes the bills, not quite meeting Seungkwanâs eyes as he pockets them. âHey, listenâŠâ His voice drops, just low enough that it almost feels like a secret. âI need to take my break now.â
Seungkwan blinks in confusion, his brow furrowing. âWhat?!âÂ
âShh!â Seokmin urges, his face a mix of impatience and pleading. He tugs at his sleeve, leaning closer so only Seungkwan can hear. âPlease.â
âNo way,â Seungkwan protests, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest. âI take the morning breaks, you take the afternoon. Thatâs how this works.â
Seokminâs expression hardens just a fraction, the edge of desperation creeping in as he stands a little taller. âSeungkwan, Iâm begging you to switch with me just this once.â
Seungkwan stares at him, weighing his options. His arms remain crossed, a stubborn defiance settling into his posture. âNo way.â
With no other option, Seokmin huffs and crosses his arms firmly over his chest.Â
âFine,â Seokmin finally says, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. âIâll just go tell your grandma how many customers Iâve helped today and that all the displays were my doing andââ
âOkay, okay!â Seungkwan interrupts, throwing his hands up in surrender. âGod, dude, you really suck. Donât make this a habit, yeah?âÂ
Spoiler alert: he would.
Seokminâs face lights up with a grin. âThank you!â he exclaims, not even giving Seungkwan a chance to protest before his apron is untied with a swift yank. Itâs tossed into Seungkwanâs arms, and Seokmin is already dashing toward the back, his shoes clacking against the floor with each hurried step.
He doesn't wait for the usual stream of complaints to catch up to him, knowing full well that theyâre coming. Quickly, Seokmin kicks off his non-slip shoes in one fluid motion, leaving them in a pile as he slides into his own sneakers.Â
Less than a minute later, he joins you by the door.Â
âCoffee time?â His tone is playful, and you mirror it as you nod once. Â
âCoffee time.âÂ
The cafe has a few students scattered around with their laptops when you enter. Thereâs also a few others, people who Seokmin knows work in the stores and buildings nearby. They stop by occasionally for their lunch and coffee breaks, but even then, the cafe is emptier than it is most days at this time. Mr. Kim is alongside Joshua, tending to something on the register, when the two of you approach them.Â
âMorning,âÂ
âGood morning, Seokmin.â Kim Jongdae offers the boy a warm smile.Â
Thereâs a bit of small talk exchanged between themâMr. Kim asks about Ms. Boo and Seungkwan, Seokmin asks about his sonâs birthdayâuntil Seokmin goes to introduce you, but turns around to find you near the bookshelf once more. This seems to remind Mr. Kim of something he discussed earlier with Joshua.Â
âMy answer is yes, by the way.â He starts, âJoshua asked me this morning. He said you, or rather, she wanted to borrow a book. Go ahead. Itâs the least I can do to repay you boys for the hard work you do to make this place look nice.â Mr. Kim gives him a firm nod, patting Joshua on the back after briefly explaining a new menu item on the screen. He walks off, and Seokmin calls out to him.Â
âThank you, really!â He turns to Joshua, âand thank you, too. Iâll get the same two drinks as yesterday. â
âYou got it.âÂ
He pays quickly and turns around, pausing for a few moments to admire you before taking two long strides over. When heâs beside you, he lowers his head so itâs by your shoulder and speaks quietly, so as to not disturb you. âWhich one piques your interest?âÂ
âWhich ones,â you correct, marveling up at him before looking back to the shelves. âThereâs so many. I wouldnât know which one to grab first if I could.â Your index finger comes up after a pause, âMaybe this one.âÂ
âGo on, then.âÂ
âI wish.â you sigh, and he can no longer withhold his smile.
âIâm serious. Grab it. I asked the owner for permission.âÂ
Your head cranes slowly over to him, eyes so wide he swears he could have seen his reflection in them.
âAre you serious?â Your voice is soft, unsure, surprised, grateful. Youâre almost not sure whether to believe him or not, but when his gentle brown eyes look between you and the book, and he gives you a little encouraging nudge on your shoulder as a go ahead, you finally move to reach out slowly and pick it off of the shelf, cradling it in your hands as if it was a precious thing.Â
âThank you. You didnât have toââ
âI wanted to.â His voice is calm but sincere, and thereâs a small, almost thoughtful smile tugging at his lips as he watches you. The shelf youâd been looking at earlier, once so absorbing, now feels distant as your attention shifts entirely to him.
You blink, unsure how to respond, and for the first time in a while, you find yourself lost for words. âGosh, I-I donât⊠I donât even know what to say.â
âYou donât have to say anything.â He mutters with a crooked smile.
âThank you.â You repeat the words, quieter this time.
âAnytime.â He shrugs. For a moment, the two of you are caught in a quiet, comfortable pause.
Itâs only Joshua calling Seokminâs name from across the room that snaps the two of you back to reality. You blink and suddenly rememberâyouâre the one who owes him a coffee, not the other way around.
âWait, you ordered already?â
âI kinda had to.â Seokmin shrugs sheepishly, his eyes flicking over to the counter before returning to you. âHonestly, Iâm more scared of going over my break time while Seungkwan is there than when itâs just Ms. Boo.â
âThatâs your friend, right? Seungkwan?â you ask, tilting your head slightly.Â
âYep,â Seokmin replies. âThe one with the dyed blonde hair who always looks like heâs about to complain about something.â
âThatâs Ms. Booâs grandson, then.â You piece it together with a grin, and Seokmin hands you your drink. You take it but find your thoughts drifting again.
âWhatâs wrong?â Seokmin asks, noticing your distracted gaze.
âI still owe you,â you admit softly, looking down at the drink in your hands. âFor the bag and the book.â
Seokmin bumps your shoulder lightly, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. âI guess youâll just have to keep stopping by.âÂ
âI guess I will,âÂ
To his delight, the rest of Seokminâs shift was effortless and quick. There was the occasional bickering with Seungkwan, but thatâs nothing out of the ordinary. And, for some reason, he didnât seem to mind it as much today. Because, waiting for him at the bus stop when he arrived later that very same evening, was you, eager to tell him all about the book you had started reading.Â
Ë àŒâĄ âïœĄËÂ
Seokmin had never been a fan of routines. His personality was spontaneous, and so the things he did on a day-to-day basis were too. Up until now, the only constants in his life were the flower shop and his friends, who provided their own random spontaneity in the form of unpredictable weekend plans or an ever-changing work environment that depended solely on which side of the bed Seungkwan woke up on that morning.Â
Seokmin gets bored easily, an issue he resolves with movie marathons or long walks or hangoutsâjust about anything will suffice, if it means his mind is occupied and distracted the majority of the time.Â
Lately, though, a new element has been introduced to his daily life. A routine.Â
A routine where, during every shift, you stop by after your time studying at the library and pick him up for âcoffee timeâ during his breaks (much to Seungkwanâs disappointment, coffee time was usually during the first half of the day). Then, youâd stay at the coffee shop reading the bookâbecause despite Seokmin insisting that it was okay for you to take home, youâd always refuseâuntil his shift was over. Heâd find you at the bus stop, waiting for him, and the two of you would chatter on until you were dropped off at your stop.Â
In a way, he had become dependent on this routineâsomething he thought could never happen. It was admittedly his favorite part of the day, catching up with you, hearing what you had to say or what thoughts you had cultured after your time reading the book. And when you finished that one a few weeks in, he made sure to take some new potted plants and flowers over to Mr. Kim in exchange for another.Â
And for some time, thatâs the way things were. He had contemplated asking to do something with you outside of the usual bus or coffee shop pattern, but everytime he intended to ask, heâd cower and procrastinate. Next time, heâd tell himself.
Early on a Sunday morning, Seungkwan came into the shop rambling about how his Grandma was at his older sisterâs house and wouldnât be coming by. Itâs not like the two of them couldnât handle the shop aloneâthey had done it countless times beforeâbut her presence was primarily longed for when it came to getting the two of them back on track. Especially on Sundays, where the task at hand was to clean, fertilize, and redecorate wilted displays. For obvious reasons, this was something neither of them enjoyed doing.Â
At the moment, itâs just him in the store. Seungkwan was taking his morning break that he insisted was non-negotiable today and Seokmin only agreed so easily because Sundays are the only days he doesnât see you.Â
The doorbell jingles softly as you step into the flower shop, and Seokmin glances up from behind the counter looking for a customer or Seungkwan, his hands momentarily pausing in their careful arrangement of flowers. A surprised look crosses his face as you poke your head in.
âHey,â he says, his voice lifting with a bit of surprise, but the smile that quickly forms softens his expression. âI didnât think youâd stop by today.â
âActually, I only came by to see Ms. Boo,â you tease, and Seokmin hisses through his teeth.Â
âI regret to inform you, sheâs not in today.âÂ
You grin, stepping further into the shop, the familiar floral scent filling the air around you. âIâm kidding. I was nearby and I thought Iâd keep you company for a bit.â
âItâs not usually this quiet around here,â he says, his hands brushing against the flowers almost absently as he talks. âItâs kind of nice when itâs just me, but I guess I donât mind the company.â He rolls his eyes, but itâs easy to see right through him when heâs so clearly beaming that you're here.
Your presence, standing so casually by the counter, feels like something he didnât know he was waiting for. Heâs used to the steady hum of the shop, the quiet buzz of the day, the mildly irritating sounds of Seungkwan, but with you here... itâs different. He canât quite pinpoint why, but thereâs a feeling in his chest that settles somewhere between contentment and something else heâs been trying to ignore for a while now.
Before he can dwell too much on it, the door jingles again, and Seungkwan strides in, looking as effortless as ever. His eyes dart between you and Seokmin, already catching the shift in the air.Â
âWhy, hello,â Seungkwan says, grinning widely as he crosses the shop and leans against the counter. âI was wondering when weâd be properly introduced.â
âYou must be Seungkwan,â you say, arching an eyebrow at Seokmin, who rolls his eyes in mock exasperation.
âAnd you must be Y/N. It seems like I took my break right on time.â Seungkwan continues, throwing an exaggerated glance at Seokmin. âHe canât shut up about you.â
Seokmin groans as he shifts uncomfortably behind the counter. âSeungkwan, please. You donât have to make it sound so weird.â
You smile at the light teasing, the way Seungkwanâs attention naturally shifts to Seokmin with that familiar comfort only best friends seem to have. Itâs clear theyâve known each other for a while. Seokmin, though, is less than amused by Seungkwan. His cheeks glow pink as he glares.
âWell, you are weird,â Seungkwan mutters.
âAlright, Seungkwan,â Seokmin says with a sigh.Â
âOkay, Iâm off to the back to unload fertilizer.â He announces and you give him a polite wave as he turns to you, âIt was nice to meet you.â
As Seungkwan heads out the back door, Seokmin lets out a quiet breath, shaking his head. The shop feels quieter, now that it's just you and him. Itâs strange, but Seokmin finds himself oddly aware of the space between you two.
He glances over at you again, trying not to seem too obvious, but thereâs something about the way youâre standing thereâeasy, comfortable, but somehow still pulling at him in a way he canât ignore. His fingers hesitate over the vase in front of him, caught in the motion of arranging flowers but not quite focused on the task.
âSo,â you say, breaking the silence. âI guess you get to work in peace for now, huh?â
âYeah, it seems that way.â Seokmin huffs. He takes a step toward you, to reach for something behind you. His hand brushes over a batch of roses, then pausing as if heâs suddenly unsure of the next move, painfully aware of how close heâs gotten. He clears his throat, the casual tone of his voice not quite matching the thoughts swirling in his mind. âSo, um... you like flowers?â
You tilt your head, a teasing smile on your lips. âIs that a serious question?â
âI-â Seokmin laughs softly, his fingers running over the petals of the flowers before grabbing them and attempting to focus on his station.Â
You lean a little closer, your voice light but playful. âWell, I like you, donât I?â The way you say those words with a teasing tone makes Seokmin nearly choke, âSo I kind of have to like flowers. Otherwise, how am I meant to hang around you?â You gesture at the shop.Â
Seokminâs breath catches, and for a moment, he feels like heâs losing the thread of the conversation.
"I didnât expect to find you working today. I didnât even know the shop opened on Sundays," you say casually, glancing up at him. âIâm sure the flowers appreciate the extra attention.â
"Iâm pretty good with the flowers, but I think theyâd appreciate the company more if you came by more often."
You arch an eyebrow, âOh? You think theyâd enjoy my company more than yours?â
âI know Seungkwan would.â You laugh at this, and Seokmin revels in the sound, joining you.Â
After a pause, he shifts his attention back to the flowers, showing you the final product. âWhat do you think?âÂ
âTheyâre pretty.âÂ
âI think so, too.â He decides, not necessarily talking about the flowers, âEven though I was a little distracted.â
"Distractions can be good, though,"
"Well, youâre a pretty good distraction," he tries for the words to sound casual, but his tone betrays him. He also said it much quicker than he intended to, and heâs grateful for the chance to turn around while grabbing another pot because it offers him a means to hide his reddening cheeks.Â
You let the words hang in the air for a beat longer than usual, enjoying the teasing, the way it feels easy between you two. "Good to know," you reply, smirking.
Before Seokmin can respond, the door swings open and Seungkwan walks in again, wiping his hands on his apron and immediately launching into his usual dramatic self.Â
"I swear, Iâll never get used to that fertilizer smell," he complains, tossing his apron on a hook. He looks over at you and Seokmin, "Glad to know you two havenât burned the place down."
You grin, "Not yet, but weâre working on it."
Seungkwan scoffs half-heartedly, glancing between you. "Nice to see him finally making some friends outside of the plants."
As Seungkwan heads toward the back, he gives you both a knowing look. âDonât let him get too distracted, alright?â he calls over his shoulder with a grin.
âIâll try my best.â You give Seokmin a wink and he shakes his head, showing you an idea for another potential bouquet.
The last hour passes seamlessly fast, now that youâre here. Before Seokmin knows it, you, him, and Seungkwan are locking up the store and parting ways from the blonde as the two of you walk side by side to the bus stop.Â
As he sits beside you on the bus later that night, looking over your shoulder at your collection of tapes for your walkman, he wrestles with the invitation that sits in the forefront of his mind. Spending time with you at the shop was great, but it somehow still feels like it follows your usual pattern. That, and Seungkwanâs presence, albeit lively and entertaining, keeps him from being able to spend as much time as heâd like with youâwithout the time constriction of a fifteen minute break or a forty minute bus ride. But like always, he decides to ask a different question in place of the one he really wants to.Â
âHow come you use a walkman? I always meant to ask you.âÂ
âI like the way the music sounds on it. I donât know. It was my dadâs.â You smile warmly, âHe used to let me borrow it when I was younger and I just kind of⊠inherited it.âÂ
âItâs cool. Makes you look all mysterious. Like youâre from a different time.âÂ
âYou think?â He nods fervently, but your shoulders still sink in doubt as you fumble with the multicolored tapes. âEverything sounds nicer on it. When you listen to music on it, itâs like a mini time-machine. Or, it might just be me, I donât know.âÂ
âIâm sure itâs not just you. Here, let me try. Pick one for me.âÂ
The corners of your mouth twitch upwards for a second as you ponder which song to play. Delicately, your fingers brush over each tape, hovering in thought like they had with the books on Mr. Kimâs shelf, until you finally land on one. Â
âItâs my favorite.â You tell him shyly, âI think youâll like it.â
Carefully, you pull the cassette out of its case and click it into the audio player with a low snap. Seokmin watches as your hands slip the headset off from around your neck, watching as you shift in your seat and place them gently over his head. He tries not to think about how close your face is to his but⊠how can he not? Youâve leaned in to ensure that both spongy cushions are perfectly sat over his ears, and now youâre only a few inches awayâclose enough that he can catch the faint scent of your shampoo. It lingers, soft and floral, wrapping around him like the embrace of something he hadnât realized heâd miss until you finally sat back, asking âready?âÂ
You press down on the play button and look up at him, eyes full of expectation.
Thereâs that familiar, comforting crackle of the cassette winding into motion, a sound that makes Seokmin feel as if heâs in an old-timey dream. And then, the music starts: your songâyour favorite songâsomething you had chosen specifically for him to hear. Every note feels warm, intimate, melodic. For some reason, it temporarily diminishes his burning curiosity about you, but not because he finds himself any less intrigued, but because it finally feels like heâs taken a real peek inside your mind.
As someone who loves music, Seokmin is a firm believer that a personâs favorite song says a lot about them. The more it plays, the more he realizes that this song, in every sense of the word, is an extension of you.Â
As the melody flows, you watch him, eyes studying his reaction with that same teasing smile. You lean closer again, and he subconsciously holds his breath as you whisper, âDo you hear it?â He nods.
Thereâs a warmth in it, a rawness that makes it feel like more than just music. This was something deeply yours, a piece of your world that you were letting him in on, if only for a few minutes.
He listens with his eyes closed, letting himself drift along the rhythm, feeling the weight of each tone and key change and lyric the artist sings, full of intention. When he finally opens his eyes, he finds you still looking at him with a kind of question in your gaze, a quiet hope. The song fades out, but Seokmin keeps the headphones on for a second longer, letting the last notes dissolve into silence. He looks up again, meeting your gaze.Â
For a moment, heâs not sure what to say. Anything he could say feels too small, too plain for what he wants you to understand. So he starts with the only words that come out easily, his voice low and sincere. âI⊠I think I get it.â He pauses, then adds, âAnd this song⊠it feels like you.â
Your eyebrows lift slightly, a playful gleam in your eyes. âWhat do you mean?â you ask, though thereâs a softness in your tone, like youâre hoping heâll really answer.
He glances down at the walkman, watching your thumb tracing along the edge as he gathers his thoughts. âI donât know. Itâs just⊠this song is so warm. Itâs like the way you laugh, the way you make everything feel a little bit lighter.â He feels his cheeks warm but keeps going, his words coming out before he can second-guess them. âItâs like a piece of you, and I can feel it, even with my eyes closed.â
You go still, your expression shifting, the playful smile that played on your lips softening into something more serious. Neither of you say anything for a moment.
The bus begins to slow, and you both glance out the window, realizing this is your stop. You reach up, fingers brushing his ear as you gently pull the headphones from him, careful not to disturb the sense of closeness still hanging in the air. You slide the walkman back into your bag, a little slower than necessary, as if that might make the night last, if just for a few seconds longer.
âThis is me,â you say softly, feeling the finality in the words as the bus comes to a gentle stop and the doors sigh open. You start to stand but pause, glancing down at him one last time. Thereâs something unreadable in his gaze, as if heâs searching for the right thing to say, something more than just âgoodbye.âÂ
âIâll see you tomorrow?â you ask, your voice soft, almost hopeful.
He nods, his smile widening just a little. âYeah,â he says, gentle but certain. âTomorrow.â Youâre about to turn around when he adds, âbut not here. I want to go somewhere else with you. I mean, if you want to, that is.â He finds his breath catching again, âThe flower shop closes early on the weekends. I was thinking... Maybe we could go to the beach?â
With a grin playing on your lips, you nod, âYeah. Iâd like that.âÂ
Giving him one last glance, you turn and step off the bus, feeling the warmth of his gaze linger behind as you walk down the street. As the bus pulls away, you catch his face framed in the window, waving until youâre out of sight. And though the music has stopped, the tune of this moment plays on, promising something to carry with you both until tomorrow.Â
Ë àŒâĄ âïœĄËÂ
The sky stretches out in a hazy blue as Seokmin walks toward the beach, his guitar case slung over his shoulder. His fingers tap a nervous rhythm against its side as he looks around, hoping to spot you before you see him.
He barely slept the night before, having spent the better part of the morning hours contemplating and talking to himself with his guitar on his lap. It hadnât been touched in nearly a year and a half, so he had to spend some time wiping it down, re-tuning it, and even fixing a string that had managed to come loose in the process.
He said heâd play for you, but then again, he hadnât played for someone in a while and naturally, that made him extremely nervous, though that feeling didnât even fully capture what he felt when he remembered heâd be playing for you. What would you think? Did you actually mean it when you said you wanted to hear him play? Or was that some automated response to boost his spirits? Would you even remember? It was weeks ago, on the first day at the coffee shop. Needless to say, he mulled over it endlessly.
Seokmin sighs, trying to calm himself down. By now, he had to slip off his shoes that were sinking in the cool sand, so he chooses to focus on the sensation of it against his skin instead of overthinking any longer.Â
He finally spots you standing by the water, arms wrapped around yourself as a light breeze blows through your hair. When you turn and see him, your face brightens, and that smile of yoursâbright and openâfills him with warmth instantly. âIs thatââ you begin, your eyes widening as you notice the guitar.
âThought it was time,â he says, shrugging like itâs no big deal despite his heart thundering as he sets the guitar down and dusts off a spot in the sand beside you. You sit next to him eagerly, your excitement spilling out in the way you lean closer, eyes sweeping between him and the guitar case, as if youâre finally being let in on a long-held secret. And, in a way, you are.Â
He stretches his legs out, digging his heels into the cool sand. He watches you rummage through the tote bag beside you, and a curious smile tugs at his lips.
âYou came prepared,â he chuckles, watching as you pull out a couple of neatly wrapped sandwiches and a small container of fruit.
âOf course I did,â you say with a smile, offering him a sandwich and holding out the fruit container. âI figured weâd get hungry eventually.â You shrug, glancing out toward the waves. âBesides, I thought it would be nice to have a little picnic.â
Seokmin accepts the sandwich with a grin, unwrapping it and taking a bite. Heâs pleasantly surprised by the fresh crunch of lettuce and the perfect balance of flavors. âDid you make these?â he asks between bites, raising an eyebrow.
You nod, a bit of pride flashing in your eyes. âI did. You think Iâd risk buying store-bought for a beach day?â
âTouchĂ©,â he laughs, grabbing a few grapes from the fruit container youâve placed between you. âHonestly, this is already ten times better than what I packed.â He gestures vaguely to a plastic bottle and an uninspired granola bar that now seem almost laughable compared to your carefully prepared spread.
The sun has settled lower in the sky, casting the beach in a soft, golden haze. Seokmin leans back, resting his hands behind him as he glances over at you, a lazy grin playing at the corners of his mouth. The two of you have polished off the sandwiches, and now the empty wrappers lie folded beside the fruit container. He pops one last grape into his mouth, savoring the refreshing sweetness as he watches you tuck the food away with a little, satisfied sigh.
âSo, did I earn any points for bringing the snacks?â you tease, dusting a few crumbs from your hands before looking over at him expectantly.
Seokmin laughs, squinting a little in the sunlight as he tilts his head, pretending to think it over. âHmm⊠Iâll give you extra points for the sandwiches. But for the fruit,â he says, grabbing a couple of the last grapes with a mischievous smile, âI think youâll need to try a little harder.â
âOh, please,â you scoff, leaning back beside him. âYouâre just mad you didnât think to bring anything.â
âMaybe,â he admits, laughing as he looks out at the waves. âBut next time, Iâll bring something better.â
âAlright, big shot,â you say with a smirk, crossing your arms. âWhatâs on the menu then? A charcuterie board?â
âDefinitely,â he says, nodding with exaggerated seriousness. âMaybe even some tiny, fancy desserts, the ones that look way too pretty to eat.â
âSounds like youâre trying to impress someone.â You raise an eyebrow, letting the words hang in the air just long enough that Seokmin canât miss the playful edge in your tone. Not like he could have missed it anyway, with the way he hangs on your every word.Â
He laughs again, but thereâs a slight flush to his cheeks. âHey, Iâm just saying I know how to put together a memorable picnic,â he says, attempting a casual shrug. âBut, you know, only if youâre there to witness it.â
You grin, unable to help the smile that breaks through at his subtle, almost shy attempt at flirting. âIâd hate to miss such an extravagant spread,â you reply, matching his casual tone with your own. âGuess youâll have to invite me.â
Seokmin pretends to think it over, tapping his chin. âHmm, alright, youâre in. But no backing out,â he says, his smile widening. âIâm holding you to this.â
Thereâs an ease between you, a lightness in the conversation that feels effortless, and for a while, the two of you just sit there, chatting about nothing and everything. He asks you about your favorite places to visit and listens as you share stories about the other hobbies you have. In return, you ask how he met Seungkwan, and he tells you about him and Soonyoung, recounting each memory he has made with them with an enthusiasm that makes you feel like you were right there with him.
Then, as the conversation dips, he glances down at the guitar case beside him. He reaches for it almost absentmindedly, brushing his fingers along the edge of the case, but thereâs a faint look of hesitation in his eyes that you donât miss.
âYou donât have to, even if you brought it all the way out here. Itâs up to you.âÂ
Seokmin lets out a small laugh, scratching the back of his neck as he glances away. Heâs more grateful for your patience than you could ever know.Â
 âYeah⊠I havenât really played in a while,â he admits, his voice dropping slightly. âItâs been over two years, actually. I brought it⊠Well, because I think itâs about time I get back into the habit.â He trails off, watching the waves again, his mind flickering to a different time, a different place, one heâs not sure heâs ready to revisit.
Thereâs a quiet understanding in your eyes as you nod. You donât press him, donât ask for more details. Instead, you just let the silence stretch out between you, the sound of the ocean filling the space where words might have gone. Itâs almost as if youâre giving him permission to take his time, to decide for himself if this is something he wants to do.
After a moment, he takes a breath, exhaling slowly. âI used to play a lot, actually,â he says, almost to himself. âJust⊠havenât felt like it in a while.â
The air feels thick with unspoken things, but Seokmin pushes past it, fingers brushing the guitar case almost impulsively. The weight of the past lingers for a second, but with a quick glance at you, he lets go of the hesitation clinging to him. This is different, he reminds himself. This isnât for anyone else, no memories he needs to cling to. Just the open beach, the sun dipping low, and you, waiting beside him with a patient, easy smile.
He pulls the guitar from its case, its weight grounding him, though it feels different today than it had last night. Itâs less scary, now that heâs with you.Â
He glances over at you, a grin tugging at his lips. âReady?â he asks. You nod, your eyes wide, leaning just close enough for him to catch the faint, floral hint of you drifting in the salt-laced air.
Seokmin strums the first couple of notes, letting the music rise and blend with the gentle crash of the waves. His fingers move on instinct, but his mind is all on you, capturing every little reactionâthe way your eyes soften, the way your shoulders relax, reassuring him that his music is something youâve been waiting to hear. Heâs suddenly very relieved.
âI wrote this a few years back. Itâs⊠Well, yeah. I think the lyrics speak for themselves.âÂ
It takes a few seconds and one or two badly played chords for him to regain a little bit of the confidence he had lost some time ago. But his fingers find their place quickly enough, and he parts his lips to sing.Â
As Seokmin's voice fills the space between you, soft and hesitant at first, he notices the subtle shift in your expression. Your eyes widen ever so slightly, brows lifting in quiet surprise as if you hadnât really expected him to sing so well. Thereâs a moment of stillness, only filled with his voice, warm and unpolished, floating in the air.
Your gaze flickers to and from him, watching the way his lips move to form each syllable, and then back to the water, where the waves blur in a streak of light. You canât help but notice the way his face softens when he sings, his features loosening as he melts into the words.Â
You look back at him, your lips parting in surprise. Thereâs a shy kind of amusement tugging at the corners of your mouth, like you're unsure if itâs okay to smile just yet, but the quiet joy you feel is evident in the warmth that floods your chest. You tilt your head slightly, caught between admiration and a soft, disbelieving smile.
I shouldâve told you Iâm in love with you
Then I wouldnât have been regretting right now
The longer you listen, the more the words heâs written seem bound to him, something like an itch he couldnât reach. You find your lips curving upward again, but thereâs a sad sentiment behind your smile this time, eyes full with a kind of quiet affection. Something tugs at your heart just then, causing your brows to furrow slightly. Maybe itâs from the lyrics he wrote, or maybe itâs the simple, unguarded way he sings, youâre not entirely sure.
When he looks up, your gaze meets his, soft and steady. You donât speak when he finishes. Instead, you reach over, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead, your fingers as light as the spring breeze.
âThank you,â you whisper, and in that moment, Seokmin realizes he doesnât need to say anything at all.
You sit back, letting the sound of the water fill the space between you, the silence stretching just long enough for Seokmin to look out at the horizon, his fingers still idly plucking at the strings of his guitar. His expression has changed slightly, distant, like he's somewhere else for a moment, lost in thought.
You turn toward him, studying his profile. âWhy donât you play anymore?â you ask softly, not wanting to break the calm vulnerability of the moment, but still unable to ignore the quiet curiosity rising inside you. âI mean, youâre really good. Why keep it to yourself?â
He freezes for a second, his mindless strumming halting abruptly. He exhales, the sound almost like a sigh.
âI used to,â he begins to explain. His voice is quiet, almost like heâs talking to himself. âBack when I had someone to play for. It didnât work out.â He swallows thickly. âShe⊠She had been hooking up with her best friend practically since we got together.âÂ
You wait, letting him speak, but his lips press together for a moment, unsure if he should say more. His gaze turns toward the ocean, but thereâs a shift in his eyes, which are normally so kind and full of spiritâsomething like a hard edge, as if a memory he had thought of has sharpened into something more painful. âI played for her all the time.â
You canât hide the surprise that flashes in your eyes, and Seokmin glances at you. He doesnât want pity. Heâs not asking for it.
âI stopped playing after that,â he continues, âIt just... didnât feel the same anymore. It was something I gave to someone who didnât deserve it.â He shrugs, as if the words are too heavy for him to carry all at once.
You can feel the hurt in the air, hanging around him like a shadow. You want to reach out, but you donât know how to offer comfort without crossing a line, so you just sit still beside him, close enough that he can feel your presence but far enough to give him space.
And at the time, you didnât know it, but for him, it was enough.Â
After a long pause, you finally say, âIâm sorry. Thatâs... thatâs a lot.â
He nods, and the tightness in his jaw softens slightly. âYeah,â he says, his voice a little steadier. âBut... maybe itâs okay.â Seokminâs eyes flicker to you, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. âToday felt right, you know. Playing for someone whoâs actually listening.â
And in the quiet that follows, he feels something shift between you, the weight of unspoken things starting to lift.
âSeokmin,â you say, your voice gentle, as if careful not to disrupt the quiet peace heâs settled into. He can tell youâre about to say something, maybe offer some comforting words about his story, but heâs already lost in thought.
It hits him, then, so suddenly it almost makes him laugh at himself. The way the late afternoon light catches in your hair, the soft curve of your smile, the way youâre watching him with that steady, thoughtful gaze. Itâs all so striking that it feels like something heâs never noticed before, and yet it feels so familiar at the same time.
He decides then, that this is the prettiest youâve ever looked.Â
Suddenly convinced you might be able to read his mind, he clears his throat, feeling a warmth creeping up his neck as he looks back down at the guitar, trying to hide the smile thatâs fighting its way to his face. He wants to say itâwants to tell you that you look beautiful, that sitting here with you feels like some kind of dream he didnât know he was allowed to have. But the words donât come out; they sit, caught in his throat, trapped by the sudden nervousness thatâs settled over him.
Instead, he finds himself brushing a hand over the guitar strings again, as if that small action might keep him grounded. âThanks⊠for listening,â he manages, hoping itâll distract from the fact that he can feel his cheeks warming.
You smile, nodding gently, still looking at him in that quiet, understanding way, and it only makes him want to blurt it out more. But for now, he lets the moment stretch, watching as you lean back in the sand, your gaze shifting back to the waves. The sun is sinking lower, and everything is bathed in that soft, warm light that makes the world feel as if itâs been suspended in time. And Seokmin realizes, right then and there, that this is one of those good memories heâll hold on to; one he doesnât intend to forget any time soon.Â
Ë àŒâĄ âïœĄËÂ
It starts with a simple conversation over coffee, the two of you tucked into a cozy corner booth at the cafe, each with a steaming cup in hand as usual. It has become the norm, seeing you like this, nearly every morning and evening. Seokmin stirs a bit more sugar into his drink despite the crazed look you give him, then glances up at you with a warm, toothy smile as you tell him about your latest read. He leans in, listening intently, nodding as if every word you say is the most fascinating thing heâs heard all week.Â
When you pause, taking a sip of your drink, he takes a chance to jump in, âYou know, Iâve been meaning to go to the art museum downtown. Itâs supposed to have this new exhibit.â He hesitates, looking down at his cup for a moment, then back at you with a shy, hopeful glint in his eyes. âIf⊠youâd want to check it out with me?â
You perk up at the suggestion, grinning. âIâd love that! Museums are kind of my weakness.â
Relieved, he chuckles, âThen weâre in good company,â he says, the words coming out a little softer than he intends. He clears his throat, trying to play it cool, but his heart beats a little faster as you chuckle.
âAlright, Mr. Museum,â you say, teasing. âIâm ready whenever you are.â
âGreat,â he replies, glancing out the window at the overcast sky. âHow about today, then?â
With a nod, you grab your things, sliding out of the booth as Seokmin hurriedly follows, waving goodbye to Joshua. As you both step out onto the sidewalk, he canât help the familiar rush of excitement at the thought of spending the rest of the day with you. The two of you stroll side by side down the bustling street, exchanging small talk and the occasional smile, his heart lifting with every step closer to the city.
The walk to the museum is a mixture of laughter, subtle glances, and playful nudges that neither of you can seem to resist. The air is crisp, a light breeze tugging at your sleeves as the two of you meander down the busy street, dodging the occasional cyclist or dog walker. Every few steps, one of you makes a half-serious commentâmaybe about the art youâre about to see, maybe about the bizarre mannequin display in a shop window you passâand it doesnât take long before both of you dissolve into laughter, your steps momentarily slowed as you lean into each other, trying to catch your breath.
Seokmin, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, finds himself glancing your way more often than heâd like to admit, watching as you tuck your hair behind your ear or lift your face to the sky for a second, enjoying the clouds. He doesnât know why he feels like a kid right now, heart skipping with each shared smile and laugh, but he canât seem to shake it. The closeness of walking side by side with you makes him almost giddy.
At one point, you nudge him with your elbow, a light-hearted challenge in your eyes as you try to keep a straight face. âSo,â you say, feigning seriousness, âready to become cultured?â
He rolls his eyes, laughing as he nudges you right back. âPlease.â
Seokmin steps into the museum lobby with you by his side, wandering across the high ceilings and polished floors. Thereâs almost a sacred quietness to the place, the kind that makes every sound seem amplified, even the shuffle of your footsteps.Â
You hand him a ticket that you get from the booth, brushing his hand lightly, and he tries to hide his smile, hoping you donât notice the faint flush that blooms in his cheeks. He doesnât know why heâs nervous; he always is around you, but he never knows why. Somehow today, heâs more nervous than other days. Maybe itâs the atmosphere, or maybe itâs just youâstanding there beside him, glancing around with the same sort of wide-eyed curiosity that makes him want to see everything through your eyes.
The two of you wander through the galleries, pausing in front of each painting and sculpture, taking your time. Every so often, you glance at him to see his reaction to something particularly strange or fascinating, and catch him already looking back, smiling at your expressions just as much as he is admiring the art.
âDo you think they meant to paint it like this?â you ask, leaning closer to a particularly loud modern piece thatâs all bright, chaotic lines. Your voice is soft, as though youâre afraid of disturbing the tranquility.
Seokmin leans closer, squinting as if trying to unravel some secret meaning, though he hasnât a clue what heâs looking at. âMaybe they were just⊠feeling inspired,â he replies, lips quirking with a grin he canât suppress.
âOr maybe they dropped their paintbrush,â you add, matching his grin.
The sound of your laughter echoes slightly in the otherwise silent gallery, and for a moment, heâs aware of how close youâre standing. The space feels smaller, and though there are other visitors around, it feels for a moment like the museum is yours alone. You move on to the next painting, your eyes bright with curiosity, and he follows, longing to shorten the distance once more.Â
He notices a stray piece of hair thatâs slipped from behind your ear, and without thinking, he lifts a hand to tuck it back. But at the last second, he hesitates, his fingers barely brushing your shoulder as he pulls his hand back, a shy red spreading over his complexion. You donât seem to notice, lost in thought as you step closer to the next painting, tilting your head to take it all in.
At one point, you point out a painting of a starry sky, something dreamlike. âImagine being under a sky like that,â you murmur, almost to yourself, your gaze soft and wondrous as you look at the canvas.
More and more often throughout the visit to the museum, Seokmin finds himself staring at you instead of the exhibits. On this specific one, he canât seem to look away from your face, your expression so captivated, as if youâre somewhere far away.
âMaybe one day we can find a place like that,â he says softly, almost not meaning to say it aloud. When you turn to look at him, a bit surprised, he clears his throat, pretending to be suddenly very interested in reading the placard beside the artwork.
Seokmin finds himself feeling almost weightless, caught up in the dizzying whirlwind of his own thoughts for a minute. Thereâs something about youâsomething he canât quite put a name toâthat makes him feel like heâs constantly walking on a tightrope, and with each step, heâs leaning a little further in, a step closer to letting go of the balance heâs tried for so long to keep.
You whisper an eager âcome on,â and grab his sleeve to drag him further into the maze of galleries.Â
As you wander into a room filled with ancient statues, he catches you examining one with a particularly serious expression. âThinking of getting one of these for your place?â he teases.Â
You laugh, rolling your eyes. âOnly if you help me carry it,â you reply, and he finds himself grinning again.
Soon, you reach a new room, filled with work from the Renaissance, each painting rich with detail and vibrant colors that have held their vibrancy for centuries. You lean in slightly, admiring the delicate brushstrokes, and Seokmin watches you, his gaze drifting from the artwork to the fascinated look in your eyesâpossibly for the hundredth time today.Â
âI feel like Iâm supposed to be having some deep, life-changing revelation right now,â he whispers by your ear, half-joking.
âWho says art has to be that serious? Sometimes, itâs just⊠pretty.â
Youâre just pretty.Â
As you move through the quiet museum halls together, Seokmin catches himself watching you again, realizing just how pretty you look in the warm glow of the exhibit lights. Itâs not the first time he's felt this way; he remembers the flutter in his chest when youâd gone to the beach, and the way his thoughts had lingered a little too long on the curve of your smile. He watches as you lean a bit closer to a painting, eyes narrowing in focus, oblivious to his gaze. Thereâs a calmness to you here, the way you examine each piece as if it holds a secret, and he finds himself drawn to the little things: the way your fingers rest on your chin in thought, the faint lift of your brows when something catches your eye, and the gentle concentration in your expression.
He watches you for longer this time, taking advantage of the fact that youâve busied yourself reading a plaque, and noticing things he hadnât paid attention to before right now: today, your smiles linger a little longer, your laughter rings out just a bit brighter, and he finds himself captivated by these subtleties, like he's uncovering new pieces of you with each glance. When you look at him, eyes crinkling in a way he hadnât dared imagine was just for him, his heart stirs, and he canât shake the thought: Have you always been this lovely, or am I just starting to see it now?Â
His mind drifts, painting scenes of possibilitiesâfleeting, half-formed images of laughter, of late nights talking, of small moments shared just between the two of you. Each image feels almost real, so vivid he can practically reach out and touch it.
Thereâs a spark in his chest, a sensation thatâs both exhilarating and terrifying. Part of him wants to pull back, to reel himself in, a quiet warning in the back of his mind whispering not to get carried away like he had before. But he canât help it; thereâs something magnetic about this, about you, something that pulls him closer despite himself.Â
He steals another glance at you, his heart racing as he does. Youâre just looking at the art around you, as though this is any other day, but for him, it feels monumental. His thoughts get lost again, imagining what it might be like to hold your hand right now, to simply be beside you without any of this hesitation.
And then, you look at him and laugh, catching him staring, and his ears go red, a little embarrassed but somehow happy to be caught.
By the time you reach the last hall of artwork, the sun has started to set outside, casting a warm glow through the large windows. Seokmin watches as the light catches in your eyes, making them shine in a way that leaves him a little breathless. Thereâs a comfortable silence between you as you look around.
As you both step outside into the cool evening air, he catches your eye, intentionally this time, his smile small but genuine. âThanks for coming here with me,â he says, his voice soft, almost shy.
âAnytime,â you reply, and the word feels like a promise.Â
Ë àŒâĄ âïœĄËÂ
The night starts with laughter and neon lights as Seokmin leads you through the bustling street to the karaoke room, his two friends, Seungkwan and Soonyoung, trailing just behind and rambling on about something indiscernible. The place is lively, bursting with music from rooms down the hall, each one echoing snippets of songs and off-key shouts.Â
Seokmin canât help but beam when he sees how easily you fall into conversation with his friends, joining in their jokes and even taking a dig at Seungkwan when he hypes himself up as the âtrue vocal talentâ of the group. Having heard Seokmin sing just a few weeks back, you couldnât help but feel defensive on his behalf.Â
Once everyoneâs settled, drinks start flowing freely. The first few songs are cautious, each of you easing into the familiar, buzzing rhythm of karaoke night. But as the night goes on, any sense of shyness melts away in the glow of pulsing lights and laughter.
Seokmin watches with undeniable fondness as you and Seungkwan bicker over song selections, and he tries not to grin too widely when he catches you belting out the lyrics with Soonyoung during a duet.Â
At some point, he notices how naturally you fit with his friendsâthe way you make Seungkwan laugh with a remark about his questionable song choices, or how you nod along enthusiastically as Soonyoung gives a dramatic toast, proclaiming you as âone of them now.â For Seokmin, itâs everything he hadnât realized he wanted: his closest friends getting along with you.
As the night hums along, Seokmin picks up the microphone, sending you a lopsided, slightly tipsy smile that makes your heart flutter before selecting a song. His choice surprises youâitâs one of those classic ballads thatâs probably too high for anyone but the original singer to sing. The melody starts slow, and his voice flows soft and easy, but with a control that reminds you just how talented he really is. You practically feel your admiration soar, and as you watch him, his hazy, glossed over eyes settle on you.Â
Every so often, he adds a bit of exaggerated flair, trying to coax a laugh out of you, playfully stretching out the notes or adding dramatic hand gestures to match the lyrics. Itâs impossible not to smile, and you feel yourself relax as his antics draw you in. The song suddenly feels a little less serious, a little more fun, as he throws in a wink here, a knowing grin there.
As he finishes, you clap, unable to hide your smile. "You know," you say, a little breathless, "itâs honestly unfair that youâre this good."
He laughs, cheeks pink from both the praise and the drinks. âWhat can I say? Talent just comes naturally,â he jokes, a little bolder, that playful gleam returning to his eyes. Then he looks at you, his expression softening. âHow about we do one together?â
âOh no,â you protest with a laugh, shaking your head, âI canât follow that.â
âCome on,â he coaxes, handing you a microphone and grabbing you by your hand to pull you to your feet, âIâll sing the verses, you can handle the chorus. It'll be easy.â
With a mix of reluctance and excitement, both of which mix together with the alcohol in your system, you take the mic, scrolling through songs until you settle on something you both knowâThe music starts, and the two of you exchange a grin before starting.
At first, you both sing a little awkwardly, tipsy laughter interrupting every other line as you stumble over the lyrics and try not to trip over each otherâs parts. But as the song goes on, you find a rhythm, and every so often, Seokmin leans into the mic to harmonize with you, his voice blending with yours. By the end, youâre both laughing, the microphones forgotten as you clutch your sides and stumble around, out of breath and giddy.
Seokmin looks at you, eyes bright, face flushed, smile so wide that you could count his teeth if you wanted to. He reaches out, touching your hand ever so lightly, his fingers warm and steady. âYou did amazing,â he says, voice soft, his smile a little shy despite everything.
âLikewise,â you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you thatâs more than just the drinks. And as you both sit there, you realize that thereâs other people in the room.Â
Before you even have time to catch your breath, Soonyoung jumps up, grabbing the microphone. âMove over!â he declares with a grin, completely ignoring the indignant look Seungkwan shoots at him as he stands up to join him. âItâs duet time for real now.â
Seungkwan, rolling his eyes, snatches the other mic and leans in with a smirk. âPrepare yourselves. You two are about to be outshined.â He cues up a song with exaggerated flair, and the upbeat tune starts, loud and impossible to take seriously as they start belting the opening lines completely off-time.
âTheyâre usually better than this,â Seokmin tells you, âespecially Seungkwan. I think itâs the alcohol.âÂ
You laugh as you watch the pair start to coordinate with each other, finally managing to sing to the beat of the song.Â
âItâs good!â You argue, âAre you all just super talented?âÂ
Seungkwanâs voice suddenly cuts through, loudly. âHey! I canât hear myself over you two!â He shoots you both a look, his mock glare breaking into a grin as Soonyoung pulls him back to belt out the chorus.
Seokmin shakes his head, laughing as he leans in closer to you, his shoulder brushing yours. âI warned you about them, didnât I?â he says, his voice soft, heâs close enough that you feel his breath beside you, gaze lingering as he speaks. Heâs a little past the point of tipsy, cheeks and nose slightly flushed, but somehow the hazy glow of the karaoke lights makes him look even softer, easier to smile at.
You giggle, feeling a little light-headed yourself, but whether itâs from the drinks or the warmth radiating between the two of you, youâre not entirely sure. Your eyes subconsciously bat at him as they trace his features, tugging at his heartstrings as Soonyoung and Seungkwan sing with wild abandon in the background.
Seokminâs arm rests casually on the back of the booth behind you. âYou know,â he murmurs, leaning just a bit closer, âIâm glad youâre here.â
The words are simple, but somehow they send a warmth spreading through you, making the whole room seem to slow down. âMe too,â you say, a little shy but meeting his gaze, feeling that same unspoken something settle around you.
Then, somewhere between another toast and Soonyoungâs next drink, things start to get a little fuzzy for him. Soonyoung has, predictably, taken things a bit too far, eyes glazed as he sways to the music, occasionally belting out lyrics that donât match the song on screen. Seungkwan sighs knowingly, standing and giving Seokmin a helpless shrug. âIâm taking him home before he tries to start chugging Soju.â He nods at you, adding with a smirk, âGood luck with this one.â And then, with a wave, theyâre gone, leaving the two of you in the dimly lit room, half-empty drinks scattered on the table.
Alone with you now, Seokminâs pulse races, the soft glow of tipsiness making him feel both bold and nervous. The room feels quieter, somehow more intimate, with just the two of you here. He reaches for the remote, scrolling through song choices, trying to keep his eyes on the screen and not on the way youâre leaning back on the couch, your gaze drifting over to him with a glint he canât quite decipher.
âDo you want to pick the last one?â he asks, his voice a little more shy than he intended.
You smile, shrugging casually, but he doesnât miss the hint of a blush on your cheeks. âOnly if you promise not to laugh if I butcher it.â
He grins, feeling his own face warm. âI make no promises,â he teases. But thereâs something in his gazeâa hint of anticipation that he canât quite hide, even if he tries.
As you start singing, he watches, captivated by the way you let loose, tipsy confidence making you bolder. The words are a little off-key, your voice rising and falling with the tempo, but to him, itâs perfect. When youâre finished, he canât help but clap, cheering as if heâs at a concert.
âYou sounded amazing,â he says, his voice softer than the playful bravado heâd intended. He feels a little too exposed under your gaze, a little too aware of just how close youâre sitting.Â
âThank you, thank you,â you reply with an exaggerated bow, but your eyes linger on his a little longer than they should, and the tension between you feels thick, heavy with possibility.Â
He clears his throat, laughing nervously. âYouâre going to put me out of a job with that voice.â But his words sound almost sincere.
Thereâs a lull in the conversation, a quiet beat where neither of you says anything, just looking at each other, the warmth of the drinks and the moment settling over both of you. You move a little closer, your knee brushing against his, and Seokmin swears he feels his heart stutter.
âSeokmin,â you say, voice barely a whisper, eyes bright with that boldness that only alcohol can provide.
âYeah?â His voice comes out breathier than he intended, and he has to resist the urge to reach for your hand.
You smile, almost shyly, but thereâs a warmth in your gaze that reassures him. âThanks for inviting me tonight. I had⊠a really great time.â
âMe too,â he murmurs, his eyes meeting yours. His hand, almost on instinct, drifts a little closer to yours, his fingers brushing against your knuckles.
As you step out of the karaoke bar, the cool night air feels refreshing, and Seokmin falls into an easy rhythm beside you. The streets are quiet, the lights soft and glowing, casting a warm hue on everything around you. He insists on walking you home, and you can see a bit of that familiar determination in his expressionâa mix of sweetness and subtle nerves, the kind that makes him even harder not to smile at.
The two of you talk softly as you walk, laughter spilling into the night as you recount moments from earlier, but the conversation drifts into a quiet calm. Seokmin feels a little tipsy, though he knows itâs not solely the drinks making him feel this way. Itâs the warmth in your laugh, the way your gaze lights up when you look at him. Everything feels a little brighter, softer, like the worldâs colors are blurring into a hazy glow.
Eventually, you pause, looking over at the buildings below the hill youâve climbed, and above them, the faint sparkle of stars cutting through the cityâs glow. Seokmin stops beside you, following your gaze, but when he looks back down, itâs not the skyline heâs mesmerized by. Itâs you, standing there with that quiet, contemplative look in your eyes.
At that moment, heâs overwhelmed. Something about this night, this moment, feels like a dreamâone heâs afraid might slip away if he blinks too long. He wants to say something, to tell you how lovely you look standing there, bathed in city lights. He can feel his heart pounding. Heâs been trying to find the right words for some time now, something that could capture the feeling building up in his chest when heâs with you. Heâs not sure if itâs the night, the laughter still echoing in his mind, or just the way youâre looking up at the sky. Before he can overthink himself out of it, he takes a breath and speaks, his voice just a little unsteady. âYou know⊠you look beautiful right now.â
Itâs the first time heâs said something so openly to you, and he can feel his cheeks heat up the second the words are out. You turn to him, a bit taken aback, your eyes wide with surprise before a smile slowly spreads across your face, soft and a little shy.
The moment stretches between you, and for once, he doesnât feel the need to fill it with laughter or play it off. Heâs content just looking at you, watching that glow in your eyes as his words settle in.Â
A soft laugh escapes you, and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, looking down for a second before glancing back up at him. âI was going to say the same about you.â
He canât help but laugh, his own nervousness melting away a little. You both stand there, caught in the gentle pull between you, feeling a little bolder, a little lighter.
When you start walking again, his hand brushes against yours, and this time he doesnât pull away, letting his fingers linger close enough that if you reached out, theyâd intertwine. Itâs a simple gesture, but it says everything heâs been holding back, and as you walk together through the quiet streets, he knows something has shifted.
The stone path thuds beneath your footsteps, clumsy and unsteady as you both navigate the uneven terrain, sharing quiet laughter over your shared lack of coordination. Seokmin, glancing down, suddenly stops.
"Look!" he says, his finger pointing at a small penny on the ground, glinting faintly in the light. âWhatâs this doing all the way out here? Take it. For good luck.â
You shake your head, amused, and explain, âItâs only good luck if itâs face up when you find it.â
âAh.â Seokmin considers this, then immediately drops into a crouch, carefully flipping the coin over so Lincolnâs head is proudly facing the sky. He straightens up with a grin as if heâs just accomplished something important.
âWhatâd you do that for?â you ask, your tone laced with affection.
âNow someone else can have good luck,â he replies.
You feel something warm tug at you in response, watching him as he stands there, content with his small gesture of kindness. Suddenly, you see very clearly the kind of person Lee Seokmin is. Itâs so like himâturning even the smallest, most mundane thing into something significant. As he begins walking ahead, you linger just a moment, looking back at the coin on the ground, then up at him.
You donât move to follow him. Seokmin halts, slightly startled, his gaze questioning as he glances at you. But before he can ask why, you step closer, closing the space between you. Youâre both quiet, caught in a bubble of giddy anticipation, his eyes searching yours, wide with surprise. And then, without a word, you reach up, resting a hand lightly on his chest, and lean in.
The moment your lips meet his, itâs like everything else falls away, replaced by a feeling thatâs as soft as it is electric. He lets out a small, breathless laugh amidst his shock, hands stuck to his sides as your mouth presses to his.
When you pull back, you find him grinning, a little dazed, his eyes bright with surprise. Then he closes the space again, meeting your lips in another kiss, quick but more eager, like heâs savoring the feeling.
And then another. His hand drifts to your waist, drawing you in just a little closer each time your lips meet, each kiss growing a little bolder, a little sweeter, until the space between you disappears entirely. By the fourth kiss, his fingers have settled at the small of your back, warm and sure, and this time he lingers, letting the kiss deepen. Itâs slow, unhurried, something unknown flooding through him as he feels your hand slide up to cup his cheek, tilting his face toward you so you can taste his mouth with ease.
You both feel a little unsteady, leaning into each other for balance, your hands anchoring each other as the world spins quietly around you. His heart races, thrumming against yours, and thereâs a shy smile on his face when he finally pulls away, keeping his forehead close to yours, his eyes searching yours, dazed and happy and overcome with affection.
âI⊠I wasnât expecting that,â he says, his voice a little unsteady but full of quiet excitement.
âI wasnât planning it,â you admit, your cheeks flushed, but you donât pull away, savoring the closeness.
For a moment, you both just stand there, eyes locked, breaths mingling in the cool night air, as if tethered to each other by an invisible string. Then, without thinking, you lean back in, your lips finding his once more. This time, there's no hesitation, no pause, just a shared need to be closeâas close as possible. His hands tighten at your waist, pulling you in with a touch thatâs both careful and desperate, as though heâs afraid you might slip away.
He lets out a quiet laugh against your lips, a sound thatâs soft and breathless. It makes you laugh too, and you pull back for a moment, catching your breath, only to find his lips chasing after yours again. Thereâs something almost frantic in the way you keep returning to each other, like youâre both overwhelmed by the discovery of this closeness, unable to let it end just yet.
His hand moves gently to the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he deepens the kiss, and you can feel the tenderness in his touch, in the way heâs holding onto you.Â
His voice is barely a whisper, warm and a little breathless. âYou have no idea how long Iâve wanted to do that.â His words, shy and sincere, only pull you closer. Hand in hand, you start walking, the quiet night around you filled only by the soft sounds of your steps. He keeps his grip loose, fingers intertwined with yours, thumb brushing along the side of your hand as if he canât bear to let go ever again. You walk in silence, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering touches, both of you stealing glances, unable to stop smiling.
Every so often, he pauses, as if some thread is tugging him back to you. He leans in to press a brief kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then your jaw, reeling over the way your eyes flutter closed from the feeling, and before you know it, his lips are back on yours. You laugh against his mouth, feeling both light-headed and grounded in a way thatâs wholly new and otherworldly. He pulls back with a grin, his eyes crinkling, looking both bashful and thrilled, like he canât believe this is real. Youâre unreal, you have to be. A fabrication of his imagination, so delicate, so perfect, so you.Â
As you continue walking, his arm slips around your shoulders, drawing you closer to his side. You lean into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace, and the quiet contentment that settles over you feels as natural as breathing. When he stumbles slightly, you catch him, and he grins sheepishly, pulling you close again in a half-hug that turns into yet another kiss.
âI might never get home at this point,â You say breathlessly.
âWould that be so bad?â Each word is mumbled into your mouth as his fingers weave into your hair, holding the back of your neck and letting his tongue shyly lick your bottom lip.Â
The hum that you let out, either as a response to his rhetorical question or his tongue now moving against yours, makes his head spin. Your nails, raking down his chest over the material of his shirt, your hips pressing to hisâitâs all too much and at the same time, not enough.Â
The closer you get to your doorstep, the slower your steps become, as if prolonging the walk will somehow stretch this night just a little further. Every so often, Seokmin pulls you close, and you laugh as he wraps an arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss you again, each one deeper and more unhurried than the last.Â
Neither of you speak, as if words would break the fragile spell cast over the night. Instead, you stand there, wrapped up in each other, exchanging soft, dizzying kisses that grow lazier, more lingering.Â
Thereâs a pause, a beat of hesitation, as he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes warm and soft, and he murmurs, âI should probably let you go.â But even as he says it, his hand remains on your cheek as if heâs not quite ready to leave.
âProbably,â you whisper, lips barely brushing his, but neither of you moves. It takes a moment, maybe two, before he reluctantly lets out a quiet laugh and pulls away, his hand slipping from your cheek to squeeze your hand, holding onto you just a moment longer. He gives you one last look, filled with a warmth and tenderness that leaves you breathless.
âIâll see you soon?â he asks softly, already a few steps down the hall, as though heâs hoping for just one more promise to look forward to.
âSoon,â you reply, smiling as he finally lets go of your hand and steps back, his gaze lingering on you as he walks away. You watch him go, the warmth of his kisses still lingering, the last few moments of the night settling over you as you turn to head inside, feeling light, tipsy, and wonderfully, utterly alive.
[click here to continue]
#seokmin x reader#lee seokmin x reader#dokyeom x reader#dk x reader#seokmin imagines#dokyeom imagines#dk imagines#seokmin fluff#dokyeom fluff#dk fluff#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#seventeen#svt#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#svt reactions#svt scenarios#svt imagines#dk#svt dk#seventeen dk#dokyeom#lee seokmin#svt dokyeom
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During your courtship, Jiaoqiu makes you get snakes for his pharmacy. It's quite common for couples that include at least one Foxian to hunt together so he doesn't leave you to do it alone. But this is less for the sake of tradition and more for the sake of his amusement as you jump around in long grass, holding a viper behind its head and forcefully keeping it from biting your face or arm or leg and any other body part. You really sound a bit pitiful as you yelp, nearly stepping on another one before pouncing, shouting so loud there can't possibly be anything in the way of game left within a half-li radius, and stuffing it into the special basket he prepared for you. You don't complain even once, though you sniffle when you hand him the basket, so he doesn't tease you that much.
#hsr#jiaoqiu#jiaoqiu x reader#hsr x reader#you don't understand how much he makes me personally have heart palpitations#but i also think he would be MERCILESS about teasing us#imagine this scenario as like when you're chasing bugs in your own house and being Unhappy about it including the yelling at no one#except x10 because it's venomous snakes#and yeah he's carrying plenty of antidote. but does he bother to reassure you of this beforehand? no#based off his consumable prescriptions#one of which sounds like a ginger jujube pheasant viper hotpot. Which would probably taste a lot like a ginger chicken/ginseng chicken#perfect summer food for the last days of summer#from the notebook#midnight fics
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desperately looking for a good tweet/twitter thread template who can help a friend out
#also yes i am in fact still alive even if u hardly see me on here lol#i saw barbie and oppenheimer yesterday!! did the whole double feature thing#it was incredibly fun#the energy during the barbie showing was absolutely perfect#i had soooo much good food we went for korean fried chicken for dinner#i havent been that satisfied on food for like#a long time#also i had my last day of work on friday! so now im free for six weeks until starting my next job after the summer#but yes okay the twitter template#my life's been taken over by my fake kpop groups sdfgh#it is what it is#ill be back on regular oc stuff i dont doubt it#but for now im having a lot of fun with these guys#less pressure somehow#aside from the fact that i cant find the right twitter template!!#so if anyone has a good one theyd like to share ill give u kisses#okay thanks#chats
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â HUSH â â sakusa kiyoomi
cw. f!reader, fluff, olympics au, athletic trainer!reader, timeskip characters, established relationship, secret marriage, language (omi swears like once), not beta read (sorry!) word count. ~ 1.6k
âjapanâs outside hitter sakusa kiyoomi and newly revealed wife, athletic trainer y/n l/n, steals the spotlight in the city of love!â
@tetzoro's summer olympics collab
your eyes glance in his direction, letting it linger on his figure as the team settles down into their corner. heâs a little tense, understandably soâ itâs his first time at the olympics, and with the pressure of the finals sitting on his shoulders, the nerves are showing, though carefully hidden behind his standard resting face that you can see through so well. the lights hanging along the ceilings of the south paris arena cast a tasteful warm glow along the contours of his face. despite the subconscious clenched jaw and slightly downturned lips that make you want to kiss the frown off so badly, thereâs a shine in his eyes like no other.
the last few days have been pretty rough, of stiff beds, subpar food and sleeping without kiyoomi. you know he feels the same if the progressively increasing frequency of late night calls and texts are any indication. with the boys sharing rooms in twos amongst themselves and the rest of the teamâs staff being housed in a separate wing of the building, falling asleep in his arms was a faraway thought since you arrived at the olympic village.
loml ⥠: miya snores so fuckinâ loudly i canât handle this me : well it wouldnât be the first time youâve dealt with it baby loml ⥠: i still think we shouldâve fought harder for us sharing a room
he drifts off into slumber easily after washing up and getting his fill of talking to you (never enough), the mental and physical fatigue of matches and practices in between taking a toll on his body, but for you, being wrapped in his warm embrace was the perfect recipe and vital to a good night's sleep. itâs safe to say that you havenât been sleeping well for the past week.
it didnât help that being sworn to secrecy about your relationship also meant that any interactions you had with him outside being the teamâs athletic trainer was like treading on eggshells. it feels like youâre in high school again, sitting next to him in the dining hall during meal times with your clasped hands hidden under the table from watchful eyes, his thumb rubbing soft circles against the back of your hand or squeezing ever so often, as if to affirm his presence and silently reassure that iâm here.
it seems to be a trend lately for athletes to be active on their social media platforms, be it their teamâs or just a personal account, recounting stories or even taking avid viewers through âa day in the life of an olympic athleteâ â without looking too far, even miya jumped on the bandwagon, often seeing suna running around filming short clips of their shenanigans in free pockets of time during the day. you and kiyoomi talked about it before the season began, keeping any non-professional interactions to a minimum. thereâs eyes everywhere and itâs better to be safe than sorry.
both of you are very private people, it was only natural that you preferred to keep your personal life and matters to yourselves behind closed doors. this ended up being a double-edged sword, because everyone wants to be all up in your business, especially kiyoomi who finds himself in the spotlight more often, being apart of the âyoung handsome eligible bachelorsâ of the MSBY 4 and now one of the most sought-after new additions to japanâs national team.
you on the other hand, were better known by twitter as âthe pretty trainerâ from the shweiden adlers and now the national team, standing next to another fan-favourite, iwaizumi hajime. thankfully your role is kept more so behind the scenes, checking on the players during games and making sure they remain in tip-top shape on and off the court.
being the quiet and brooding one amongst outgoing chatterboxes meant that the media would try to dig any information out of kiyoomi, but prying interviewers and prodding questions towards him and his love life were smoothly deflected and brushed aside, the boys even coming to his defense if anyone got too pushy with it, which you were beyond thankful for. not that they needed to most of the time, heâs known to be curt with his responses and quick to bring the topic back to the game, and no one likes a snappy sakusa anyway, many have learned this the hard way.
just months prior to the both of you getting called in to begin training for the olympics and before schedules start to pick up, you had a small private wedding in your hometown with just close friends and family, the ceremony kept under lock and key and tucked away from the public eye. it made it all the more intimate, more like a quiet gathering to celebrate your union than a grand spectacle, which suited you perfectly. the honeymoon hasnât happened yet with the timing of everything, youâre saving it for post-season when you both can finally take a break and relax for a little while.
you wonât deny that there are some days where you wished that things were different, and that you could openly express your love for each other without scrutiny and attention being on you, but alas, that is to be expected as someone exposed to the public eye.
the olympics is your first public appearance as married individuals, not that anyone particularly cares about your status, their eyes instead zeroing in on kiyoomi and the chain around his neck carrying a shiny new silver band. it's safe to say that judging by the scowl on his face and the chatter buzzing around the front rows of stands as the team settles into their side of the court, his âmystery wife" is the new talk of the town.
when he comes over to you during timeout, his eyes meet yours bashfully as you hand him a bottle, fingers brushing against yours in an unspoken apology. you just smile and lightly pat his back as he turns to join the team huddle. thereâs nothing to be sorry for, silly.
these little moments mean everything to you, even though it looks like nothing in the grand scheme of things. just being there with him and coming together with a shared passion even if it's in different fields of the broader spectrum of sport, fills you with a sense of happiness and content. watching him in his element and being able to support him on the sidelines through it all, you'd never trade that for the world.
and as youâre sitting at the edge of your seat with your bum hanging on for dear life, you lean forward with your hands pressed together, the top of your index fingers resting against the tip of your nose like a pseudo prayer. match point.
it feels like youâre watching the longest rally of your life and like a bad habit, your knee begins bouncing up and down in your nervousness and anticipation. iwaizumi too, is so engrossed in the play at hand that he doesnât notice, or maybe he just doesnât care enough in this moment to stop you with his usual slap to your thigh and a chiding comment, âstop it, even my grandma back in sendai can feel the tremours from your goddamn knees.â
with bated breath, you watch kageyama tosses one beautiful arc of a set to kiyoomi as he leaps into the air and makes contact with the ball.
with a powerful spike, he is a force to be reckoned with, sending the ball home as the opponents dive to save it, their arms hands and fingers stretching out in a last ditch attempt to connect and rescue the point, but to no avail. the ball lands with a harsh thud and as he stands tall above their groveling, the whistle blows and the crowds roar.
your arms instinctively raise in a cheer, and in the next moment theyâre closed over your mouth, tears pricking your eyes as you stumble over your feet and scramble to get up. as the team rushes towards him with shouts of celebration, his eyes immediately dart in your direction, softening as he sees you dashing over. with knowing smirks and crescent moons for eyes, the boys follow his line of sight and give him firm slaps on the back, parting the hoard for you and giving just enough room for him to uncharacteristically swoop you up in his arms and crash his lips into yours, all caution thrown to the wind.
all the noise halts and time stands still, everything fades away and nothing else in the world matters in the moment, not the people, not the cameras, just the overwhelming rush of joy and pride, and love, oh love, swelling from the depths of your chest and your heart bursting at its seams.
your senses flood with everything kiyoomi, from the way the sweaty strands of his hair at the back of his neck feel on your fingertips, his cheeks dampening from your tears, the nudge of his nose against yours, and the press of his smile on your locked lips. he breathes out and you breathe him in, letting all of his being rest in the room in your heart saved specially for him, seeping into every corner of your soul.
when you inevitably pull apart for air, the current predicament doesn't exactly click in your mind just yet until he grabs your hand and pulls you into his side, shielding you from the onslaught of reporters and press looking to get a fresh scoop on the hottest piece of news. with blown out eyes, you look at him in a daze and disbelief, did that really just happen?
the smug smirk on his face says it all.
the matching silver bands on your finger and hanging around his neck, it was always there. for the longest time it was your little secret, and now a declaration of love and devotion â not even a shiny new gold medal could compare.
© yogurtkags. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.
#áŻâ
: written in the stars !#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa x reader#sakusa kyoomi x reader#sakusa fluff#sakusa kiyoomi fluff#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#dividers: @/cafekitsune
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BEACH DAY â BLUE LOCK
SYNOPSIS: as a manager during the nel, a well-deserved rest was needed. what better way to rest than a fun day in the hot summer air, in a bikini, at the beach?
note: this was originally a special for 100k reads on my wattpad book found (which u should SO read btw #shamelesspromo) but to avoid confusion i edited out a lot of mentions of the manager characters who were included in this short! i really hope you all enjoy!
wc: 6.2k
TODAY
is a completely regular day of fun outings. Shidou had (in)formally organised a beach trip, something you decided would be a good idea. The NEL has been stressful on all of you, whether it be you and the other managers, the players, or even coachesâtaking a good day off seemed to be a good idea.
So, you were heading to the beach.
The place where women can wear skimpy bikinis without being called promiscuous names (it would happen anywayâbut in a perfect world everybody would mind their own business) and the place where strange men (some of those men may happen to be named Otoya and Aiku) would check out the local fauna dressed in said skimpy bikinis.
It was a fun day of splashing around in the waves, ignoring all problems present in your life, and unwinding in the grainy sand. You miss it. That is why, even though you're sure this will happen to end up in disaster, you agreed.Â
So, this is what got you in this predicament nowâthirty minutes before you had to get there with a ten minute trip drivingâthat was all that was left for you to remember everything.
Swimming outfit. A change of clothes. Sandals that won't trap sand. What else...
You ponder as you stare down at your duffel bag, filled with everything you need. Moneyâfood stalls at the beach were always ridiculously expensive for no apparent reason, Floatiesâyou never know when somebody might just need some abrupt saving. Towelsâplenty of towels, A robeâyou'll probably be a little chilly when you get out of the water.
Apart from the obvious essentials like hair ties, deodorant, sunscreen, keys and whatever other odd things you need whenever you go outâyou think you're good to go.Â
You take a good look at your swimsuit. You haven't worn it in a while. A simple black two-piece with each front piece of fabric being held together with two silver ringsâit's a little smaller than you would've liked, but you don't own any other kind, so you decide to just go with it.
You roll up your towel nicely and tuck it into your bag, then zip it up. You stare down at the fat duffel bag that is practically bursting at the seams. You are ready to take on the final bossâthe beach.
âáą. .áąâ âËâčâĄ
You stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom, pulling at the tight elastic band of your bikini. It digs into your skin slightly. Hissing through your teethâyou decide it's nothing, and quickly make your way outside.
With your bag under your arm, you walk out and look around. Two of the other manager girls said they'd saved a spot underneath a bright purple umbrella. It takes little effort to spot it in all its neon glory.
They both sit atop a beach towel, with odd things like sunscreen, keys, and waterproof mascara all scattered around them. You wave a little before you sit down on a part of the towel, taking in the sight of the beautiful beach.
Children running around, adults chasing after themâsome guy was even getting told off in the middle of the waves for losing his swim trunks. All in all, the beach was positively bursting with rich energy.
You missed this. You haven't felt this calm in a good while. Dealing with all those rowdy boys vying for your attentionâit took a toll on you.
Too bad this peace would not last for too long.
Your phone dings. You pick it up and press on the notificationâit's a snap from Shidou. You hesitantly click on the picture and it's a closeup of his left eyeâbut in the background, you can see the side of the building you had just changed inside, and a shirtless Otoya is trying to kick at somebody.
You don't even have the chance to properly react when a loud yell interrupts your thoughts. You snap your head towards the sound so fast your neck achesâthe source was Rin on the floor while, even though a second ago a phone should've been in his hand, Shidou is jumping him.
A smart, sassy quip and loud groans erupts from both you and the other manager girlsâyou slap your phone down and squeeze your face in your hands.
Perhaps this is the start of doomsday, you think as the overly massive group starts making their way towards you and your blaring purple target of a neon umbrella.
âáą. .áąâ âËâčâĄ
"[name]!!" Bachira crashes into youâwith the way he knocks you both to the sandy ground, he should be playing rugby instead of soccerâand rubs his cheek against yours like a loving cat. "I'm so excited to see you again! You never come by our stratum!!"
He's flat on top of you and the stares you're receiving start to grow uncomfortable. You push back at his chest but he simply opts to sneak his arms around your shoulders, "Bachira...!! Let me... get up..."
It takes the brute force of Barou King Shoei to remove his figure from latching onto yours. With a twitching brow and eyes that could stab daggers into Bachiraâa small laugh unintentionally escapes your lips when he talks, "You're all sandy, you disgusting bug. If you get all that sand on the towel, I'll seriously kill you."
Bachira is being held up by the scruff of his water suit like a cat. He dangles in the air and flings himself at Barou nextâ"Fight me, king!"
"YOUâ!!!"
Ignoring the upcoming brawl on the ground, you step over the two and you find your way towards...
"Hello, Isagi."Â
Your voice seems to make him jumpâhis eyes widen in surprise at the sight of your face and he looks far too nervous to be speaking to you. "OâOh... Hello, [name]...! It's good to see you again..."
He's trembling and making such intense eye contact that you wonder if he's okay. His fists are clenched hard beside his body and you think he might just about have a heart attack. "Are you... okay?"
He answers a little too quickly, "Yes! I'm fine, haha, why would you worry about me? I'm totally good! Best I've ever been! Why would you ask? I look okay, right? Well, I gotta go now! I'll see you later, [name]!"
He runs off like he's a high school girl who's just had her first conversation with her senior crush. I can't tell if he's insecure about how he looks or worried about being disrespectful to me.
Maybe it's a mix of both. Isagi is on the slimmer side, compared to guys like Barou. Even though I know he's not, he looks like he's on steroids.Â
And Isagi's always been worried about being disrespectful to youâworried about overstepping boundaries and making you uncomfortableâat least when he's in his usual, clear state of mind. There's no telling what he's thinking when he stares down at you late at night after a good game with that overconfident, egotistical smirk.
Anywaysâhe's rushed away by now, and you're just standing here looking all stupid. Oh well. At least you're not alone for too long, because your attention is quickly stolen away by a certain trio.Â
Karasu, Otoya, and Yukimiya all come up to youâonly one bothers to wave or even smile (there's no surprise he's a modelâhe's seriously gorgeous, you note when glancing down at his torso).
"Hey." The sneaky ninja is not so sneaky anymore, because he doesn't even try and disguise the way he's staring at your chest. He gives you a thumbs up, to which you scowl, "Lookin' good."
"Get your eyes off my chest."
"Sicko." Karasu shakes his head with a disappointed expression. You deadpan.
"You too, stupid crow."
"Did your mothers not teach you respect?" Yukimiya clicks his tongueâeyes fluttering closed as he shakes his head. He soon turns his head towards you and he actually does make eye contact with youâa step above his two friends. "It's nice to see you, [name]. You look very nice. Ignore these two."
You promptly ignore the offended looks shot at the modelâyou opt to just stare, perhaps a little too dreamily (but you couldn't care less, really), and smile back, "It's nice to see you too, Yukki. Thank you, you look handsome today, too. I was planning on ignoring those two, anyways."
"Woah, that is seriously hurtful." Karasu places a hand over his bare chest where his heart would be. "Too bad I don't care."
You roll your eyes. "Of course you don't, stupid crow."
"Would you stop calling me that?"
"Would you stop staring at my boobs?"
He pauses. "Point taken."
âáą. .áąâ âËâčâĄ
Having Nagi cling to you during your time at Blue Lock is pretty hard already. Believe it or not, he's 6'2, and believe it or not, having a grown 6'2 man hanging off your side makes it pretty hard to get around.Â
Having a shirtless, messy-haired Nagi plant himself right on top of you and having his face smushed against the top of your chest is a little worse.
You can feel a burning stare at the back of your head. You're not sure if the stare Reo is giving you is directed at you or the snow-haired boy. (Perhaps it is both and he's just conflictedâyou would understand).
"Nagi..." You push back at his head and slowly intertwine your fingers in the white locks. They're softer than you imagined, but the ends are unmistakably dead. You should cut it for him later. "Go swim or something."
You are disappointed (yet, not the slightest bit surprised) when he promptly shakes his head no and proceeds to dig his nose even deeper into your exposed skin. His voice is slightly muffled, but still plausibly understandable, "Nuh-uh. Dun' wanna."
Your eyes twitch. Perhaps you have been spoiling him a little too muchâso much so he refuses to leave you be.Â
"'Cause I didn't wanna go, but then mmmm... uhâReo told me you were gonna come... and it wouldn't be too much of a hassle if you stayed with me. Hadn't seen you in so long. Missed you."
Right. You forgot he told you that before, too. Perhaps you had been a bit too doting on Nagiâhe's clingy-er than you remember. Or perhaps it had been similar to that saying, distance makes the heart grow fonder.
A loud shriek (it sounds far too girly to have come out of Nagi's mouth, but go figure) alerts you and you see Nagi has been grabbed backwards into a headlock by Barou King Shoei. Perhaps he had turned away from the villainous side since your last meeting with him, because right now, he's saved you twice, like a hero.
Nagi doesn't even fight the King's death gripâhe flops like a dead fish and it looks rather funny seeing it so closely. Nagi is taller, yet much lankier than Barou, who looks like a bodybuilder compared to the lazy snowhead.
"You're kicking sand all over the towel, Mr Hassleman." Barou snarls and jerks Nagi's head back. The boy doesn't react other than wearing his little :x face. "Go swim it off. Now."
Nagi does not make any visible effort to move. Barou still holds him like a ragdoll in his grip when he turns to look at youâyou laugh a little and move your sunhat out of your eyes. "Hi, Barou. It's nice to see that you came. I didn't think you'd like the beach."
He looks a lot different with his hair down, you note. But in a good way. Fallen beneath his shouldersâyou wonder why he does not wear it this way more often. He still holds his signature forever pissed-off expression, "What the hell is that supposed to mean? You think I'm incapable of having fun?"
You pause, with a small grin. "Yeah, kinda."
He gives you a deadpan expression. "You're the same as always, you shit manager."
"I thought our relationship had progressed to the point we'd gotten past these mean names." You place a hand over your chest, a cheeky smile on your lips with a faux-hurt expression. You didn't usually joke around like thisâit wasn't really your thingâbut he was just far too easy of a target to tease. "I'm hurt, King."
He cocks a browâyou see Nagi trying to wriggle around now, and it's good to know he didn't actually dieâ"Seriously? Didn't think you were the type of person to care."
"Doesn't matter now. You're gonna swim, right?" With a nod of his head, you break away from his sharp stare and give him a small wave with a closed-eye smile. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Oh yeahâby the way, you look good with your hair down. You should do it more often. Anyways, see you later."
You do not catch the half-hearted wave Nagi sends youâwhich was just him flopping his arm up in the airânor do you catch the look Barou throws over his shoulder at you, "... Not too bad yourself."
He says, but you do not catch it.
Nagi stares up at the man with a blank expression, "Who knew you were all sweet on our manager, huh, King?"
The King in question growls like an animal and tosses Nagi into the ocean like a ragdoll, "Shut the fuck up!"
âáą. .áąâ âËâčâĄ
"Beach volleyball?" Chigiri stares with confusion in his bright pink eyes as Kurona sits on Gagamaru's shouldersâsetting up the tall net. His hair is tied up in a high ponytail, and his bangs fall over his eyes. "Are you serious?"
His head turns to yours when you shrug, "Why not? Beach volleyball is super fun. It's not like you guys can play soccer on the sand."
Chigiri pauses to think your words over for a second. You give him the most empty stare you can muster before you speak, "You really can't play soccer on the sand, Chigiri."
"Well, still. Are you gonna play?"
You shake your head and spare him a small smile. "No, I think I'll pass on this one. I'd like to see you play, though. You seem like you'd be really good at volleyball."
He gives you a pretty smile and shakes his head. "Oh, I don't know. I wasn't really planning to play either. I was honestly just thinking of sitting down with you and just relaxing."
"Oh, but I really would like to see you play. I bet you'd be better than anybody else out there, Hyoma." Not to be brass or anything, but you like to think you know a good amount about Chigiriâincluding how to get him to do what you'd like:Â Fan his ego. Or to put it in better words, praise him. "I think you'd look pretty cool."
You give him the nicest smile you can muster, and you're sure that's what seals the deal. He turns his head away from yoursâyet you can practically sense the smirk he now holdsâ"Well, if you really think so, why not?"
You laugh a little as he walks onto the court, and each side with six playersâeven if in official beach volleyball, there were only two on each side, this was the most unofficial game you've ever really witnessed.
Otoya and Karasu are jumping on each other's shoulders in an effort to block the spikesâit only ends in the one on top tumbling to the ground and Yukimiya shaking his head in an I'm not mad, just disappointed motion.
Bachira is using his feet to play, kicking the ball up even when his hands were a completely more viable optionâyou think this is illegal, but who are you to judgeâand Shidou is doing the same thing, except he... is hogging the ball. You aren't even sure how you hog the ball in volleyball, but he's managing it.
Rin is the one who manages to get it away from him but it only ends up in another tussleâsomething you do not bother to stop because one of the manager are already running toward them with a can of hairspray (which, if you were not previously aware, has the same effect as pepper spray if directed into the eyes).
You loll your head back and let out a heavy sigh. This beach day was going better than you had expectedâstill, your group by far had gained the most traction from how loud you all ended up being. You've gotten countless stink-eyes from old people, especially when Shidou yells out profanities in the vicinity of little children.Â
You wonder if the police may get called on you all. Maybe you should pretend you're not in their group as a last-ditch effort if it does end up happening.
You are broken out of your thoughts by a small, almost nervous greeting, "Um... hey, [name]."Â
You look to where the source of the sound came fromâyou get an eyeful of Isagi's bare torso before you see his face. He's looking off to the side awkwardly as if the mere action of looking at you would be purgatory, and he looks like he doesn't know what to do with his hands so he grips the end of his swimming shorts awkwardly. It's cute.
"Hi, Isagi." You smile. You shuffle over to create a little more room on the towel you are sitting on. You pat the free spot beside you and nudge your head towards him, "Come sit."
Obedientlyâyou didn't expect him to move so fastâhe sits beside you. He still looks stiff and nervous, so you ask him what's up. He responds, quickly but much quieter than his usual calm tone, "I was... um... ah, this is so stupid..."
He sucks in a deep breath of air and turns his back towards you. It's a little more built than you imagined. "I was... just gonna ask if you could put sunscreen on my back... I can't reach, and I trust you more than the... others."
You can practically feel the way his face burns up from how his voice cracks and grows more hushed with every word. To save him from the embarrassment, you decide to spare him from teasing words. "Sure. I don't mind. I'm glad you trust me, Isagi."
The words come out a little more sultry than you intended as you test the waters and place your fingertips on his bare shoulders. He shivers. You can feel it.
You spread the sunscreen all over his backâhe places his face in his hands as you work your hands a little lower. When your fingertips brush against the waistband of his shorts he has to bite back a small groan. This was utterly humiliating for himâseriously, this was sad.
You're not completely oblivious to this fact, so in a menial act of pity for the poor guy, you try and finish up as quickly as possibleâif only to save him from the embarrassment.Â
It feels far too intimate to be just a friendly gesture. He wonders if you feel that way too. You lightly rest your palms on his tense shoulders when you are done, sitting on your knees and leaning your face near his own, "Done."
He'd be lying if he said his heart didn't skip a beat. He swallows thickly, blunt nails digging into his palms as he shuffles around so he faces you. The words that come out of his mouth are a little shakier than he would've liked, "T... Thanks... [name]."
The smile you have plastered on your face is nothing short of pretty, he thinks. "No problem. You can come to me if you need anything, okay?"
Why do you have to say things like that, [name]?
Isagi gives you a small nod, and practically forces a wavy smile onto his lips. "Yeah... You're really helpful, you know that?"
You laugh. "I know."
The mood between you two is calm and the strange tension from before has dissipated. You're smiling from ear to ear, about to say somethingâwhen Isagi's demeanour changes completely. You're not too sure why, but he seems to spot something behind you and his eyes completely shift.
Gone is the meek and shy boy, and in his place is a coy, smiling man. He places a hand on your upper armâit makes you jolt and look at him in surprise. A second ago, he couldn't even look you in the eye, and now, he was shuffling closer towards you like it was the most natural thing ever.
"Anything, right?" He finally speaks, and he moves his hand up, away from your arm and it lightly traces underneath your jaw. He looks deeply into your eyes, but still keeps glancing behind you. "Can I do this?"
You do not get a chance to ask what this happens to beâalthough, it does not take a genius to figure it out, and you are no geniusâor even spare him an answer before he grabs your hardcover novel and holds it up in front of where the two of your lips meetâcovering your kiss from the other players that surround you all.
He doesn't dare take this further than a small kissâyet, it wouldn't be considered a simple peck either. His hand holds the underside of your jaw lightly and tilts your head up so he can easily feel you and the back of the hard-cover book feels cool against your cheek.Â
You'd like to believe the reason your cheeks are on fire is from the blaring heat of the sun shining down on youâeven though you are underneath the shade of that purple umbrella. His lips taste sweet, like a fruity drink. You think a stall nearby is serving something similar to that.
You can feel his smile against your lips, and he seems to be all too happy to have you like this. He tilts your face forward and your body has to followâto the point you practically collapse into his lap. It feels much more intimate now that you can feel his bare skin against your own.
Isagi moves his hand down from your jaw down toward your waist, holding you taut against him and letting his fingertips rest in the dip of your back.Â
You finally end up moving backwards, and your sunhat almost falls off your headâIsagi quickly readjusts it when he pulls away. He gives you a sweet smileâthough, it grows more cocky when he glances behind you againâand says, "You really are helpful, [name]."
You blush a little but still retain that same smile when his hands trace down your spine gently, romantically. "I know."
âáą. .áąâ âËâčâĄ
Isagi joins in on the beach volleyball fun with Nagi after Rin and Shidou leave in favour of taking a dip in the sea (you think you hear Shidou saying something about skinny-dipping, and you pray to every god imaginable you heard wrong), so you are left to yourself once more.
You are perfectly content. Your sunhat lay on the towel beside you and your legs are peeked out in the sunâreading your book where you last left off.
Your life is perfectly calm until it is not.
Hands suddenly cover your vision and all you see is darkness. You jerk your head up and are about to say something when a heavily accented voice suddenly rings out throughout your ears, "Guess who?"
You could recognise that voice in your sleep from how often it haunts your dreams. You recognise that voice even before you hear it. You slump down where you sit, letting out a heavy, almost tired sigh. "Kaiser..."
"Ah! How did you guess it so easily, hĂŒbsches MĂ€dchen?" He removes the hands blocking your vision and he suddenly plops himself down, right in front of youâof course, his little guard dog is right by his side, sporting his usual guileless expression. "Perhaps you think of me far too often, hm? Also, I told you to call me Michael. We are closer than that, no?"
You shake your head, eyes slightly squinted at him. "I don't know about that. Hello, Ness."
The puppy-dog boy waves his hand at you, clearly delighted. "Hello, [name]!"
Kaiser looks annoyed at this interaction. He scoffs, rolling his electric blue eyes and waving you off mindlessly, lashes fluttering closed, "Whatever. I cannot believe you're just reading at the beach."
You raise a brow. "What's wrong with that?"
He picks up the book by its spine and tosses it nonchalantly on the towel beside you, lips curled downwards into a sneer, "It's terribly dorky. You look like a huge dork."
"You sound like you care about that more than me."
"I don't want my love interest to look like a huge geek. Appearances matter a lot, you know." Yeah, you make that really clear. He abruptly stands upâNess scrambles to get up as wellâand looks down at you, finger curling upwards towards you like he's beckoning you to follow him. "Come on."
You blink with your nose scrunched up. "Excuse me?"
He coughs into a closed fist, looking up at the bright blue sky so he doesn't have to meet your gaze. He still holds a hand out to you, "Come on. Don't keep me waiting."
You're so shocked that you actually find yourself following after himâthough, you do not take his outstretched hand and it is left hanging awkwardly. Ness would've taken it.
Your sandals flop on the sand as you walk down the beach, past families and couples and people simply wanting to tanâyou follow behind Kaiser in silence while Ness walks beside you. You hope people don't think of you three as a throuple. That would absolutely not be good for your image whatsoever.
You pause as soon as you realise exactly where he is leading you. He's stepped halfway into the water when you halt your movements right before the splash of a wave hits your toes.
"Yeah, no thanks." You abruptly turn on your heel and proceed to try and make a getawayâyou don't get too far until Ness grabs your wrist and tugs you backwards. You tumble into himâsomehow, he doesn't fall over and only grabs your upper arms in his hands with a frantic expression.
"Please, [name]! Kaiser really wants to swim with you!"
Kaiser hisses through his teeth lowly and stares at Ness like he's just cursed out his mother, "What the hell, Ness?! I never said that!"
The small boy does not make it very subtle when he gasps in shock. Ness slaps his hands over his mouth and shakes his headâhis voice is muffled when he speaks, but you can still understand slightly, "IâI never said that! Nobody said that!"
He's so embarrassed the poor boy rushes into the water and disappears beneath the waves. You wonder if he has become one with the sea. In the distance, you can see Kurona and Hiori chilling on a large unicorn floatieâwith drinks and colourful strawsâthat should've only been able to fit one person.
You and Kaiser are now just staring at each other in very much awkward silence. You take a languid step back. "Well... If you don't want to swim..."
Once again, you do not get the chance to dash away because he's grabbed you and pulled you into his grasp before you could even react. You look at him with wide eyesâbut you're practically putty in his hands when he bends down and clasps his arms over the back of your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder like a menial sack of potatoes.
Your sandals fall off your feet as soon as you find yourself tucked over himâyou let out a very loud, very offended, very embarrassed gasp of shock, "What the hell... ?! Kaiserâput me down! Sick bastard!"
Your words have no visible effect on him. Your head slumps down when you feel him walking, and your hair hangs over your head. You get a good eyeful of his back. He's also more muscular than you imagined. Makes sense why he could even do this. That doesn't mean you're not pissed, though.
You can't see his face, but you can practically envision his signature cocky smirk and how it paints his stupidly handsome features, "I'm all fine, hĂŒbsches MĂ€dchen. Are you ready?"
Huh? Ready for whatâ!!!
You feel so indiscriminately stupid for even asking this questionâyou should've already known the answerâbecause you suddenly find yourself collapsing into the water, salt filling each of your senses and the loud noises of children screaming around you fading to muffled nothingness.Â
You jump up as fast as you canâyou're just tall enough so you can stand with your chest above the waves. You start coughing to try and get the small amount of water you happened to swallow out of your systemâyour hair is now wet with the water and is suddenly heavier, and you're shivering cold.
Kaiser, the asshole he is, is laughing wildly at your expression. You push your hair away from your vision and you receive an earful of hisâstupidly charmingâlaughter. His hands clamp over his mouth in a last-ditch effort to muffle himself, which only makes your face flush hotter with anger and your chest tightens.
You want to yell and scream into his face, but you choose the better way out. You puff your cheeks out and hold your breath as you dive back under, swimming behind him and slamming your foot into the back of his knees so that he tumbles forward, face-first into the water.
You've never felt prouder of yourself.
You bob your head back up and start to laugh wickedly nowâit was his turn to look like a drowned rat. When his head comes above water, you can't help the tears of laughter that brim across your waterline when he gives you a deadpan, silently fuming glare.
His wet bangs cling to his face (somehow, it suited himâthe mere thought made you feel a little angry, in the way that your stomach started to feel all weird and your heart skipped a beat or two) and his red eyeliner is smeared down his cheek. He pushes his blonde hair back, so that his damp bangs fall over his left eye and his hair is parted strangely to the side.
"Hmph." He looks away from your figureâyou have to cling onto his shoulder to stop yourself from falling over, and your chest heaves up and down wildly to breathe. "I don't know what you find so funny."
You look up at him from your slumped position, eyes squinted upwards and you're practically sparkling with joy, "You... you look hilarious! Ahahahaâlook at you! I can'tâ" Your words are cut off by your gasps for air.
Kaiser does not look the least bit impressed. He stares down at where your cheek is planted on the side of his neck, right where the blue rose lies. His hands stabilise you by falling into the small of your backâright where Isagi's fingertips once touched.
You finally regain your composure and move away from how you were practically pressed up against himâyour cheeks are starting to hurt from how hard you were smiling, and you now sport a much calmer sort of grin when you stare up at him. "Ah... I'm sorryâdon't look so madâ"
He rolls his eyes, which makes you chuckle, hands resting on his shoulders, "Oh come on... don't look at me like that... I'm sorry..." Your tone is far too playful to sound apologetic. He is slightly enjoying the attention you bestow upon him, but the thought makes his head hurt so he chooses not to reflect on it. "Michael..."
Fuck. His name sounds so nice coming out of your mouth.
He still keeps up the annoyed act, however, even when you grin up at him with that stupidly pretty, stupidly knowing look, "Don't be like that... I'm sorry, okay? What do you want me to do to make it up to you?"
The blonde pauses, blinking owlishly and looking down at you. You are still smiling, and he can feel your heart beating loudly in your chest. You almost look dazed, probably from your previous session of full-blown laughter.
His hands still rest lowly on your hips. He moves one and tilts your chin up with his thumb, "Hm." A smirk coils onto his lips and in an instant you can see the happiness that practically radiates off his being. "I think this will suffice, for now."
He leans forward, and suddenly, he is kissing you. Unlike Isagiâhe wastes not a second to slip his tongue between your lips and kisses you as deeply and passionately as he can musterâit's so Kaiser, so him that it makes your stomach twist within itself.
His hands run down the side of your bodyâthe places where his rough fingertips meet the skin that you usually cover with clothing make you jolt and goosebumps form on your wet skin.
His bangs tickle your cheek and despite how wet they are, they are soft. His left, tattooed hand finds itself on the side of your stomach and his blunt nails sink into the soft fleshâhe grabs at whatever he can get his hands on. It's lowly and desperate and so unbefitting, so uncharacteristic of himâbut in this moment, he can hardly find it within himself to care.
The hot sun beams down on you both and it causes your head to grow all hot and fuzzyâKaiser's natural warm body heat is not helping either. You're feeling so much all at once that your hands unconsciously place themselves on his bare chest in a small attempt to create a sliver of distance between you two.Â
It does not work. Your torso leaves no room or gap as you're sunken into his armsâit makes him groan into your mouth and god, you almost feel sick to your stomach when you realise your first thought after hearing it is that you really want him to do it again.
You're not underwater anymore, but you might as well be. Every sense is muffledâthe children screaming, the cool, glittery water that surrounds your bodies, even the blackness that clouds your closed-lidded visionâall you can feel is him, his tongue in your mouth and his hands running all over the smoothness of your skin.
Suddenly, you feel your lungs aching, and you realise you need air. You try to pull awayâbut his face follows yours like he's a mindless dog, and you could've laughed at it if you had not been so stripped of oxygen. You need air and yet he's kissing you like you are his airâit's a fact that makes your cheeks flush red hot.
The only option you can think of is the next action you takeâyou squeeze your hand out of where he presses your chests impossibly close and entangle them within his damp, blonde locksâtugging backwards and forcing him to leave the slightest amount of space between your mouths, so you can gasp for air.
Your hand tugging at Kaiser's long hair, hard, and you hotly panting into his mouthâhe'd rather be caught dead than admit this aloud, but it doesn't feel half bad.
Your eyes crack open slightly, and you have to choke down a laugh when staring at his expression. His face is flushed bright redâcompared to his usual pale complexionâand his squinted cerulean eyes are clouded with unmistakable desirable passionate lust.
"ScheiĂe, hĂŒbsches MĂ€dchen." He curses lowly, chest rising and falling erratically as he pulls you in even closerâif that were possible. You can feel every ridge and bump of his hard torso against you and the smirk that pulls across his lips makes your heart pound. "You make my heart race."
When your breathing starts to even, he closes the gap between you both once more, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and biting downâyou whine into him and he kisses you softly as some sort of minor apologyâyou'd never hear the word sorry come out of his lips, after all. His hand dips down to trace up and down your spine, while the other rests below your ass.
He slides his lips away from yours, down your neck and he rests his face in the crook between your neck and shouldersâpressing languid, open-mouthed kisses against the salty skin. His hair falls over his shoulder and trickles into the water like molten honeyâit flutters around in the sea and he looks stupidly gorgeous like this.
Now that he's not blocking your vision nor taking over each of your senses, you can see now see the distant figures of your friends all playing together in the sea, including that of Isagi. He's talking together with the others and having fun while you're over here, making out with one of his most hated rivals.
Still, you can't find it within yourself to give it a second thought when his teeth sink into your neck, and his hands tighten around your upper thighs. He lifts his head after you whimper a little and push him backâhe follows where your eyes lead and you're sure he also happens to see the head of your dear friend.
The smile that curls across his lips is nothing short of dangerous. "Oh, is that Yoichi? Are you worried about him seeing us?" You do not give him a verbal answer, but the way you look down and the way your lips tremble gives him everything he needs. "How cute. No worries."
He lifts his face and all you can see is him. His hair falls over his shoulder and his bangs tickle your cheek once more. His touch is undeniably soft despite the carnal look he sports in his sharp, angled eyes. "Why don't we give him a show, hĂŒbsches MĂ€dchen?"
He whispers so delicatelyâyou do not have the mind to shake your head no, nor do you protest when he slips his tongue between your obediently open lips once more, hands tucked around your hips.
Your heart will not stop pounding. Kaiser smiles at the fact that he is doing this to you. He smiles at the fact you are like mindless putty in his hands, and he smiles at the fact that he can feel bright blue eyes staring holes into himâthere's nothing wrong with showing off, right?
© ILIVERAEE 2024
#blue lock x reader#bllk#bllk x reader#blue lock#blue lock manga#michael kaiser#kaiser x reader#michael kaiser x reader#kaiser#isagi#isagi yoichi#isagi x reader#isagi yoichi x reader#nagi#nagi seishiro#nagi x reader#nagi seishiro x reader#karasu#karasu tabito#karasu tabito x reader#otoya#otoya eita#otoya eita x reader#karasu x reader#otoya x reader#yukimiya#yukimiya kenyu#yukimiya kenyu x reader#barou#barou shoei
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Summer Break : ÌÌâ Max Verstappen
summary: with three weeks off to enjoy yourselves, you and max make the most of it adventuring together
Ë*âąÌ©Ì©Íâ©âąÌ©Ì©Í*ËïŒ
liked by ynusername, danielricciardo and 2,582,608 others
maxverstappen1: great way to end the first half of the season, looking forward to a nice break before pushing for the title đïž
138,163 comments
username1: congrats on such a great start to the season max
ynusername: can't wait to finally get you all to myself đ„°
danielricciardo: @/ynusername did max fail to tell you that i'm coming too?
maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo like hell are you coming on holiday with us
username2: enjoy your break, you deserve a great rest â€ïž
username3: how am i supposed to survive three weeks without you???
landonorris: try not to injure yourself, that would be a shame wouldn't it... đ
maxverstappen1: @/landonorris careful you almost sound like a sore loser
username4: the title isn't far away...we know you can do it!!
username5: we all know you're going to win so there's no point even trying đȘđ»
redbullracing: thanks for all your hard work so far max, enjoy the break!
username6: that's more like it, my world champion! đ
georgerussell63: don't think we'll let you get that title so easily
username7: i can't wait to see what you and y/n get up to
alex_albon: can't wait to see you tonight on a double date we've had no say on
maxverstappen1: @/alex_albon i'm already sick of the sight of you đ
alex_albon: @/ynusername sort your man out
ynusername: @/alex_albon sorry the only reason i'm hanging out with you is to see lily đ€·đ»ââïž
Ë*âąÌ©Ì©Íâ©âąÌ©Ì©Í*ËïŒ
liked by carmenmmundt, maxverstappen1 and 427,189 others
ynusername: belgium might be up there as one of my new favourite places. such a great way to spend the last couple of days before holiday season đ§đ
42,816 comments
username8: i've never felt so jealous of a food pic in my life
carmenmmundt: and whereabouts was my invite to going and eating all the waffles?? đ
ynusername: @/carmenmmundt you're still in monaco so stfu
username9: thank you for always showing up and supporting max yn!!
landonorris: i see, we all eat strict diets in the paddock and you walk around eating any sweet you can find đ
ynusername: @/landonorris perks of being a wag
username10: speaking for belgium, we'll welcome you back anytime đ§đȘ
danielricciardo: i don't recognise you with all these aesthetic photos these days
ynusername: @/danielricciardo thought i'd better up my game, aiming to graduate to a .jpg account soon
username11: pls yn we're relying on you for max spam over the next three weeks
maxverstappen1: glad you enjoyed the trip love, the perfect start to our break đ
username12: it's not fair how one person can be as beautiful as you are
username13: i'm praying for plenty of yn posts to get me through this summer break đđ»
alexandrasaintmleux: next year you're taking me to wherever that is
ynusername: @/alexandrasaintmleux pencilling it into my diary as we speak âïž
username14: i just adore the relationship that yn and the drivers have together
Ë*âąÌ©Ì©Íâ©âąÌ©Ì©Í*ËïŒ
liked by landonorris, schecoperez and 2,173,690 others
maxverstappen1: up, up and away to our first destination. looking forward to a fun couple of weeks with my favourite person đ«¶đ»âš
285,682 comments
landonorris: itâs taken four years but youâre officially an insta boyfriend đđ»đđ»
maxverstappen1: @/landonorris if I knew what that meant Iâd say thank you
username15: i cannot believe it's been two days and max has already posted omg đ±
danielricciardo: still offended that you didnât organise this trip with me included
maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo still offended that you think weâd want you as a third wheel on our holiday đ
username16: two people are not allowed to be this beautiful on a flight
charles_leclerc: alex is also very disappointed that we didn't get an invite on this trip too...
username17: my heart can't take this and it's only the first post đ
ynusername: tbh Iâd go anywhere in the world as long as I was with you đ„ș
username18: praying you two can have a peaceful break without any interruptions
redbullracing: safe travels and see you in three weeks!!
username19: are you really telling me that max managed to take a photo that good of yn???
aussiegrit: i don't recognise you on social media these days...
username20: my two favourite people in the world ahhhhhh đđ
oscarpiastri: i think i need one or two photography tips off of you verstappen!
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liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe and 529,319 others
ynusername: enjoying the views and the company, never wanting this trip to end
22,492 comments
username21: damn yn you've got the best view out of all of us
alex_albon: you're obliged to come home as your absence is making my girlfriend incredibly annoying!!
danielricciardo: you two make me sick sometimes... đ
ynusername: @/danielricciardo no one asked you to come and see this post??
username22: the beach photos omg i can't cope
landonorris: we get it. you're in love. now please stop bragging.
username23: what are you doing to me yn?? stop messing with my heart â€ïž
maxverstappen1: you always manage to find those angles that make me look good!!
ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 any angle of you is a good angle! đ„ș
username24: well that's certainly one way to make us all jealous wtf
carmenmmundt: i fancy you so much omg
ynusername: @/carmenmmundt just missing my true partner in crime by my side đ©ââ€ïžâđâđ©
username25: these photos remind me daily why i dream of having a relationship like these two
charles_leclerc: now alex is mad at me that i've not taken her to a beach to see the sunset, thanks guys
ynusername: @/charles_leclerc @/alexandrasaintmleux i've got your back! đȘđ»
username26: all i want is to be lifted on the beach as beautifully as max lifts yn
Ë*âąÌ©Ì©Íâ©âąÌ©Ì©Í*ËïŒ
Ë*âąÌ©Ì©Íâ©âąÌ©Ì©Í*ËïŒ
liked by redbullracing, danielricciardo and 528,193 others
ynusername: i promise i'm still making him work hard despite the fact it's off season. those other drivers won't know what's hit them soon
68,291 comments
username27: couples who train together stay together...or something like that đȘđ»
lilymhe: come and train me instead wtf...
ynusername: @/lilymhe i'm all yours when we get home i promise
username28: max secretly looks like he's loving it don't worry yn
georgerussell63: did you and carmen make a deal to torment your boyfriends with the gym over the summer?? đ€
ynusername: @/georgerussell63 we just want you to look your best
username29: running must be easy with views as good as those
danielricciardo: stop showing off that your boyfriend is a professional athlete even whilst on holiday đ
username30: now this is a world champion, on holiday and still making sure he's staying strong...
landonorris: do you reckon you could accidentally trip him up and rule him out for the next few months?? đ€
ynusername: @/landonorris i'll break your ankle before i break his...
username31: notice the colour coordinated outfits? no? just me?
username32: this'll have the other drivers quaking in their boots yn hahah
schecoperez: how much did max protest that he wouldn't go out for a run?
ynusername: @/schecoperez i bet you deal with less tantrums at home then i do with him! đđ
username33: it's not fair, max is already at an advantage getting to work out with you!!
Ë*âąÌ©Ì©Íâ©âąÌ©Ì©Í*ËïŒ
liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 2,583,597 others
maxverstappen1: riding into the second half of the season like...
427,078 comments
username34: fast, strong and in the lead, just how you'll be for the rest of the season
landonorris: congratulations on finally making a funny post đđ»
username35: someone looks like they're showing off for their girlfriend lmao
charles_leclerc: damn you're such a cool kid these days
username36: no way did max come up with this caption, it's far too funny for him
ynusername: with how big a crash you had earlier i hope you don't race like that next week đ
maxverstappen1: @/ynusername that was supposed to stay between us!! đ€«
username37: everyone say thank you yn for showing max how to do social media properly
carlossainz55: the name's verstappen...max verstappen đ¶ïž
danielricciardo: how much did you have to pay yn to come up with this caption for you??
username38: i don't think i'm prepared for the off season spam to end
username39: now we watch max go silent again until december when the season ends
redbullracing: we can assure you max will not be arriving back at red bull on jet ski fyi đ
username40: out in front and world champion again no doubt!!
oscarpiastri: at least if you're on a jet ski i've got a chance of beating you... đ€
Ë*âąÌ©Ì©Íâ©âąÌ©Ì©Í*ËïŒ
ËËË đđđđđđđđđđ ! ÂŽËË
#f1#f1 imagine#formula 1#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#f1 fanfic#formula one#f1 reaction#max verstappen smau#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#formula x reader#formula 1 social media#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 smau#f1 fluff#f1 x you#f1 fic
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I CAN'T LIE TO YOU âź LN4
pairing: Lando Norris x bestie!Reader (childhood best friends to lovers) summary: Lando Norris decides to surprise his best friend after being a long time away from home. What she didn't expect was that he had a big secret that he couldn't share with her words: 4.5K - warnings: swearing, suggestive content & not proof read author's notes: I'm back once again! Now you just know I'm a sucker for childhood besties to lovers. Also, I may have already started writing a part two for this one... let me know if you want it!
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The days in England have become more boring with time. Y/N was losing her mind over the repetitive routine that follows the life of a college student. Work, study, beer with close friends and bed. So when her mother invited her for a family dinner, she worried about how excited she got with the event. It wasnât supposed to be anything special, just her parents and a few of their close friends gathered to catch up over nice food.Â
Coming home felt way too good. Itâs a feeling most college students get when they go back to their hometown, leaving their crappy flat in university to be served with their parents pampering during their quick visit. Y/N was supposed to be back to her place in just a couple of days, but she felt satisfied to be in a different place than the four walls of her house. Not to mention that she was having a good laugh with everyone at the table.
Her mother always takes dinner parties to another level, serving the best food in her special crockery, saved for moments like this. So Y/N packed a nice new outfit; a cute long-sleeved dress that looked perfect with tights and heels. Not that the guests cared about how she was dressed, but it felt nice to look beautiful and all put together for once after months of hoodies and leggings.
As usual, her parents invited the Norris family, as theyâve been the best of friends for the longest time. Not only they lived next to each other for years back when she was younger, all of their kids were really close friends with Y/N. But the spotlight always goes to Lando, who is the same age as her, making them grow up attached to the hip.
They all grew up going to the same school, not to mention that she would always tag along in Lando and his brotherâs karting sessions, having the best time watching them drive flawlessly on tracks. He always enjoyed the times when sheâd steal her parents cameras so they could make some homemade videos of their time together. Or when they would sit back, watch their dads play golf every Saturday and share candies in the cart.Â
 Y/N and Lando have been inseparable since the age of four, growing up side by side, going through everything together. She was so important to him that, when he joined Formula 1 and had to choose a number to race, he chose the age the two of them had become friends.Â
âThe number four is for my best friend, Y/N. She was the one to suggest it, and the meaning behind it is very cute. Actually, I donât want to tell you to not spoil anything, but I can only say that itâs very dear to my heartâ, Lando said once in an interview during his second season in F1, making every single one of his fans curious about the meaning.
But itâs been a while since the infamous duo had been together. They supported each other from afar; Y/N sometimes joining him for race weekends and Lando coming back to see her on birthdays and weekends in London, while he visited the McLaren factory. But the last time they had been together was four months ago, during summer break, when he dragged her to join him for his crazy trips around the world. When racing and university was back on, they lost a little bit of touch; almost no calls and only a few texting breaks so they wouldnât fall apart.
A lot happened in those four months. Lando had a new gorgeous girlfriend; a model who everyone had become obsessed with her TikTok videos for beauty tips. They had been seen together a few times around the world, her joining him for the races and a lot of make-outs behind DJ booths at parties. Y/N, on the other hand, was lacking in the dating department. But the friends she made over the past year made everything worthy. After years of pretty much having Lando as her only very close friend, she finally found new people to go out and have fun as a normal 20-year-old.
With that, Y/N and Landoâs friendship got weird. He had been avoiding her for a while, with the excuse of being too busy with racing, but actually not wanting to talk about his personal life with someone who knew him like the palm of her hand. Meanwhile, she was having a good time with her friends to be bothered by anything. But lately, life had become more boring and Y/N felt like having Lando back would bring some more fun into her life again, with all the epic parties and the good times they always managed to happen.
âOnly one month leftâ, she thought, as winter break was approaching, meaning that Lando would finally be free to come home for the holidays.
She was pushed out of her thoughts by Adam Norris, who now seemed interest in Y/Nâs life after a long catching up with her dad. âTell us more about college! Are you having fun? Learning anything special?â, he asked with a kind smile.
âOh, Iâm graduating this spring, so itâs been⊠roughâ, she chuckled. âBut everything has been amazing, you know? The internship is so cool and the people are nice as wellâ.
âI just canât believe it will all be over soonâ, his wife, Cisca, responded. âIt feels like it was just yesterday when you joined uni and Lando started his first season in F1. Time really flies, uhm?â
Every mention of his name made Y/N smile like a fool. But lately, it has been accompanied by a ting of pain on her chest. God, she missed him so much.
âWhat is it that you miss?â, Cisca asked, pulling Y/N out of her thoughts. Shit, did she say that out loud?
âI said I missed your pie so much, Cis. You know I have always loved it growing upâ, Y/N tried to cover it up by stuffing her mouth with the cheesy pie, trying to keep her thoughts of being spoken out loud. But something caught her by surprise.
âYeah, mumâs pie is the best in the world, isnât it?â, a male voice said from behind her, one that she hadnât heard in person for a while. Her eyes widened when she realized who it was, only to turn around and see Lando standing right behind her tugged into his signature comfortable hoodie, with a giant smile plastered on his face, and a bouquet in his hands. âSurprise!â
Y/N brought her hands up to her mouth, trying not to cry at the sight. She couldnât believe what was standing in front of her. So she jumped out of her seat and jumped into his arms, not caring about anyone else in the room or the flowers being crumpled up in his hands. Lando buried his nose in her hair, taking in her scent, making him feel at ease for once
âWhat are you doing here?â, she leaned back, holding his face between her hands. His soft eyes looked down at her, his smile never faltering.
âI thought I could surprise my best girlâ, he admitted, digging one of his hands into her hips, making her securely close to him. âI had a break before the end of the season, and it had been so longâŠâ
âShut up, you idiot. I just want to hug youâ, she cut him mid-sentence, burying her face in his neck, making his smile even wider, if that was possible. Everyone on the table laughed at her reaction, but let them have their moment after months without seeing each other. It felt too good to be true.Â
âI missed you so muchâ, he whispered in her ear, pressing a small kiss to the top of her head.
âI missed you too. Welcome home, Lanâ, she leaned back and kissed his cheek, making it tinted red. Lando was so cute when he blushed. âYou brought me flowers! How cute is this?â
She took the giant bouquet filled with red and pink roses out of his hands, bringing it close to her body. âItâs an apology for not being here as much as I shouldâ, he said, making her heart so warm with the thoughtful gift.
âYou being here is enoughâ, she pressed another kiss to his cheek and quickly pulled him for another hug. They just couldnât get enough of each other.
âAlright, we all know you both really miss each other, but you can catch up after dinner. Food is getting cold and poor Lando must be starvingâ, her mother cut them off, making Y/N look back at the table, her face burning in embarrassment. He laughed at her behavior and pulled the chair next to her so they could sit together.
Through the whole dinner, Lando told all of his amazing stories traveling the world, leaving all the âbest friends onlyâ parts for later, when he would be alone with Y/N. She felt so happy to finally have him by her side, making fun of her table manners, resting his hand on her knee and cracking any bad jokes just to see her roll her eyes. And even though he lived those many adventures, Lando knew life couldnât get better than having his favourite person in the world back on his side.
âSo, Lando, what finally brings you back home?â, Y/Nâs father asked, making him shrug.
âYou know, the championship couldâve been better and I feel really tired, you know?â, Lando searched for his best friendâs hand under the table, entwining their fingers once they met. Then he looked at her with an adoring smile on his face. âI just need some recharging. Thought I could use some home time before the last few races of the yearâ.
âYouâre always welcomed to recharge in our house if you want to, Landoâ, her mother said before the conversation was taken somewhere else once again.
While everyone else chatted, Y/N and Lando updated their phone gallery with new pictures of them. A lot of cute selfies and pictures of their homemade dinner which soon found their place on their Instagrams.
y/username
liked by landonorris and 3,419 others
y/username: always feels good to have my best friend back in the house
tagged: landonorris
landonorris Besties reunited LFG!
âȘ y/username youâre such a bore
fanacc1 FINALLY SOME Y/N AND LANDO CONTENT
fanacc2 Wasnât him dating a model?
âȘfanacc3 He is, but Y/N is his childhood best friend
fanacc4 ugh, if i was his gf, i would be so jealous of them together
âȘfanacc5 I bet his girlfriend actually hates them
fanacc6 Does this mean more Y/N around the paddock?
The dinner was coming to an end with the delicious sweet treats they prepared for dessert. At that point, Lando and Y/N were just existing at the conversation. He slipped an arm around her shoulder and she found a comfortable spot to lean into him and keep sipping on her wine while they shared a slice of cake. But even though they were quiet, they surely werenât tired. So as the rest of the adults continued with their chat, they took their glasses of wine to the backyard, just so they could have some alone time.
Lando chuckled when he saw what was still standing strong in her backyard. âYou still have our old treehouse?â, he asked and she nodded excitedly. âWow, it looks so much nicer than beforeâ.
âItâs because I renovated it, you fool. Havenât I told you?â, she asked, but Lando shook his head. âOh my⊠you have to see this! Now itâs a grown up treehouse! Take a lookâ.
Y/N dragged him to the small construction and made him climb all the way up to the house. It changed a lot with the renovations. Their wall doodles from when they were little kids were preserved by a varnish coat on the wood. She also substituted the old toys for books and her collection of vinyls, making the place look extra cozy. There was even a table for afternoon tea and card games, a TV and a huge futon, with lots of cushions, so they could just lie down and spend the rest of the day hidden from the world.
âWhat a glow up!â, he joked. âI loved it. This is amazingâ, Lando took a place next to the window, where the moonlight invaded the room. Y/N sat next to him and almost immediately pulled out her camera just to capture the moment. And just like old times, they had fun doing a tiny photoshoot together, only to be cut off by his mom, calling them from the ground.
âAre you coming, Lando?â, Cisca asked, making him look over to Y/N, who replied for him.
âIâm not letting him go anywhere, Ciscaâ, she joked, throwing her arms around Lando, making his mother laugh. âDonât worry, Iâll take good care of your sonâ.
âHave fun you twoâ, they waved at her and sighed after finally being left alone for a proper catching up between best friends. Lando had a satisfied smile on his face and he felt so calm at that moment. He threw both of his arms around his best friend and hugged her tightly.
âHome, at lastâ, his cheek was pressed on the side of her face, making her giggle with the contact. âI want to know everything going on with you. Just blurt it all out. I owe you thisâ.
âOh, nothing great happenedâ, she shrugged. âNothing that you didnât know already. The internship is nice, but itâs coming to an end soon and Iâm not sure theyâll keep me with them. And college is almost finished, so thatâs kind of bittersweetâ.
âI thought you were excited to have a degreeâ, he said, making her sigh. âAre you not happy about graduating?â
âOf course I am. You more than anyone knows how important this is to meâ, she answered. âAnd I made so many good friends and Iâve been having the best time with them. I know graduating will make us grow apartâ.
âEndings arenât always nice, uhm? But you have to look at the bright side of thingsâ, he started. âYouâre finally achieving something great and you managed to have a really good time along the way. Made friends and worked really hard to become the best professional out there. Iâm so proud of you!â
Lando has always been her biggest supporter on pursuing her academic path. He remembers all the talks they had about her wanting to master in communications. While he didnât get to finish school to up his game in racing, he was there for every step his best friend took until enrolling in university. So when they talk about it, he always has that beautiful proud smile on his face, to which Y/N loved seeing.
âThank youâ, she smiled shyly. âAnd what about you, Mr Worldwide? Youâve been everywhere these past months. How was it?â
âOh, always amazingâ, he beamed. âI got to see so many amazing places around the world. You wouldâve loved all the clubs I went to. The DJ booths are amazing. Oh, and the golf courts⊠breathtakingâ.
âYeah, I saw all the picturesâ, Y/N arched her brows and rolled her eyes. âYou didnât even bother on calling, telling me about your adventuresâ.
âSorry, I lacked in that departmentâ, he apologized. âEven though everything has been amazing, Iâm so tired of this year. I couldâve done better on the track and the last few races have been exhausting. I knew that I needed to recharge before the last two races, so I came back to youâ.
âItâs always a pleasure to have you homeâ, she ran her hand through his curls and smiled. Lando always saw Y/N as his home. She always brings him that sense of familiarity, and her absence in his travels around the world were taking a toll on him.
Not to mention that hiding a big secret from his best friend also wasnât doing him any good.
âBut Iâm not here to talk about me. I want to know everything about youâ, he poked her side with his index finger and smirked. âAnyone special appeared in your life in the past few months?â
âPleaseâ, she rolled her eyes. âThe last time I had a proper hook up was during our summer trip to Bali with that guy on the clubâ.
âCome on, it canât be that badâ, he giggled, but Y/Nâs face was burning in embarrassment.
âI had a few dates in the past months, but fuck me, they were annoyingâ, Lando laughed at her statement. âOne of them found out youâre my best friend and spent the entire time asking questions about you. And the only guy who was actually decent came in his pants when we were making out in his car. Didnât even get to touch meâ.Â
âOh, poor youâ, he giggled. âSo no boy to be my new best friend? I mean, come on, we need more male energy in this friendshipâ.
âSorry, Lan. No boyfriend this timeâ, she said. âYou, on the other hand, started dating this gorgeous model and forgot to tell me about everything.â
And there she said it: the topic Lando had been avoiding the most throughout the whole night. He really didnât want to talk about it with Y/N, because his big secret had been hiding right there. He knew he couldnât, and didnât want to, lie about anything to her. And he also knew that he really needed to vent about this secret with her as well.
Lando turned really quiet, and looked away, avoiding her eyes. âDonât start now, Y/N. I mean, thereâs not much to say, to be fairâ, he mumbled.
âCome on, I want to know everything about the woman who stole my bestieâs heartâ, she poked him, but Lando didnât dare to look Y/N in the eyes. âI mean, everybody loves her and she seems sweet. Why donât you want to tell me about her?â
âBecause weâre not togetherâ.
âWhat do you mean? Iâve seen the Instagram pictures and the gossip pages posting videos of you two kissing in the club. I thought you were becoming a thingâ.
âY/N, donât push itâ, he asked, his voice bargaining on his throat.
âWhy donât you want to tell me about her?â
âBecause weâre not together, I told youâ, he sighed. âSheâs a PR stunt. Sheâs not my girlfriend, and itâs been consuming me from the inside ever since we started this little thingâ.
Lando finally looked her in the eyes and Y/N saw them brimming with tears. As an immediate response, she rested a hand on his arm and waited until he was ready to talk more. He leaned into her touch and the tears started to stream down his face. Heâs never one to cry for anything, so the tears meant that it was so much more than he was letting show. Her heart broke at the sight of her best friend.
âIs this why you look more tired than usual?â, Y/N asked and he nodded, making the tears fall harder. âOh, Lan⊠Come hereâ.
She pulled his head to rest on her chest and Lando wrapped his arms around her, needing some sort of comfort. He didnât say much for a couple of minutes after, feeling his heart aching on his chest. He wanted to talk about everything with Y/N, because he knew she would understand him. He always feels vulnerable and safe enough to talk about anything with his best friend.Â
âEverything is so fucked up, Y/Nâ, Lando cried out. âGod, I canât take this fake relationship anymore. Do you know how disgusting it feels to pretend to be in love with someone youâre not? And to lie to everyone, hiding it from my parents. From you. I canât stand itâ
âIâm sure you have a good reason to be doing soâ, she said, fingers running through his curls and making him sure that she was right there with him. Y/N felt his fingers clinging tighter onto her. âYouâre just doing your job and thatâs okay. This wonât last foreverâ.
âI feel so lonely, you know? I was doing so bad on the last few races and I missed home so much. I missed talking to my dad and hugging my mom. I missed making fun of my sisters and going for a drive with my brother. And I missed you so much. I wish I could just stay here for a long whileâ.
âSoon youâll get to be here for as long as you want, babyâ, Y/N pressed a kiss on top of his head and Lando sighed in comfort. It ached a little less with her there. âAnd weâll get to spend so much time together. You can come over and weâll have sleepovers. We can take the car, drive around and go clubbing until sunrise. Whatever you wantâ.
âGod, it would be so easy if it was youâ, he whispered, still holding onto her as if his life depended on it. What did he mean with that? Just those single words made Y/Nâs heart skip a beat. Truth is, while her heart ached for her best friend, she was relieved heâs not in love with someone else. Did he have feelings for her?Â
âYou know, I looked over my so-called girlfriend one night while we were hanging out at the club and I wanted to shout to everyone that it was all an act. Sheâs like a solid reminder of how lonely I am all the damn time. Itâs ridiculousâ, he grunted.Â
âCome on, look at meâ, Y/N pulled his face to look up and held his head between her hands. âLan, you are never alone, okay? Even if you feel like you are, and even if Iâm not there physically, you know that Iâm always with you. Iâm right hereâ, she rested a hand over his heart, making him smile through his tears. âI've been in your heart since the moment we metâ.
âIâŠâ, he started, but couldnât get to say the rest. After all this time, Lando was afraid that the next move would ruin their friendship forever. But looking her in the eyes, comforting him through this rough time, he knew she felt the same. âI love you, Y/Nâ.
She was expecting anything. âI knowâ, maybe. That was so much bigger than what she imagined. Lando had said he loved her countless times over the years theyâve known each other; after all, they grew up together, almost like brother and sister. But this time, it was different. Y/N knew it, and Lando knew it too.
Y/N was too stunned to speak, so he continued with his confession. âI always have, you know? And I only hid everything from you because I canât lie to you. And because I thought youâd never look at me the same way if you found outâ.
âLando, IâŠâ she stopped mid-sentence, trying to catch some air. âFuck, this is a lot. Just wait a secondâ.
They giggled together and he leaned his forehead against hers. âItâs okay to not say anything right now. I just dropped a giant bomb on your lap. This wasnât the way I wanted to confess to you, but I just couldnât keep it to myself anymoreâ.
âAre you saying this because youâre emotional? Because I swear to God, if you are, Iâm gonna kill you for misleading meâ, her eyes were brimming with tears and Lando whipped them away.
âIâm telling you the truthâ, he assured. âI think Iâve loved you my entire life. With all the crazy things Iâve experienced in my life, you were the only constant. Youâre home, Y/Nâ.
âWhy didnât you tell me before?â, she asked and he took a deep breath.
âBecause I was afraid of losing you. Scared this might ruin our friendship somehowâ, he admitted. âYouâre the most precious thing in my life. Do you know how scary it is to fall in love with your best friend when youâre just a kid? And then grow up, and those feelings never go away, just getting stronger every day. I just didnât want to lose youâ.
âYou werenât going to lose me, Lanâ, her eyes softened at his confession and now he was the one wiping her tears. Y/N brought him back for a hug and even though he didnât have an answer, deep down he knew she felt the same.
âIâve loved you since we were four. Thereâs a reason why I always carry this number with meâ, Lando confessed. âGod, look what you do to me. I never cryâ.
âYou only cry for the important thingsâ, she reminded. âThatâs why I love you, Lando. Iâve been in love with you for my entire life too, idiotâ.
His eyes widened as he looked up to her, who had a smirk plastered on her face. âCan I kiss you?â, Lando asked, but before she could properly shake her head in agreement, he crashed his lips into hers. He needed to be home, and Y/N has always been home for him. It was the most intense kiss they ever had, like years of lingering had finally paid off for both of them.
Lando pulled her closer with a hand on the back of her head. She wrapped her fingers around his neck, smiling into his lips. Then, as if it wasn't enough, he pulled her to sit on lap, making them closer somehow. She slowed down the pace, making the kiss needier and more delicious. Lando even let out a satisfied throaty moan, his heart speeding on his chest. Her touches made him feral, knowing that after years of pinning, he finally had his dream girl.
âThank you for thisâ, he whispered against her lips, a wide and satisfied smile on his face. âThank you for all the years, all the times you've been here for me, to tell me everything is going to be alright.â
âAlways, Lanâ, she played with the hairs on his nape. âI love you so muchâ.
âI love you too. So muchâ, he left one more peck on her lips before hugging her again. âI don't know what I'd do without youâ.
âYeah, me tooâ.
The story of how they fell in love with each other was long, but beautiful. Lando and Y/N sat in that tree house all night and shared all of those stories with each other. And for a second, he really believed everything was going to work out. After all, if he had Y/N, Lando would be just fine.
âââââââââââââââ
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hungry eyes | f. odair
masterlist
summary: finnick is a great cook, and a chef must taste-test all his meals, mustnât he? including you.
pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader
warnings: smut, oral (fem receiving), finnick is a munch and a thigh man, praise, swearing, cum swallowing, fingering
notes: iâm so sorry about the long-writing-time-to-short-word-count ratio. i donât know if i like this ahhh. lmk what yâall think <3
word count: 3.5k
You were passing through the entry room of your house when the front door opened with a slight creak. Stepping through the doorway was Finnick, dressed in a white billowy Henley shirt (he had a few buttons purposely left open and the sleeves were rolled to his elbows) and a pair of dark grey pants.Â
His hair was a windswept mess of bronze waves with different strands poking out in various directions, but he somehow made it work. He lookedâŠÂ
Wow.Â
You, on the other hand, were still in your pyjamas, wearing a pair of thin cotton shorts and cosy thigh-high socks.Â
As soon as he entered the house, you could tell what kind of mood he was in. Drained. That tended to happen whenever he had to spend the day with his prep team and prepare for an upcoming event in the Capitol.Â
His cheerless eyes found yours and you swore a spark of life flickered in them.
âHey, Finn,â you said. âAre yâoh!âÂ
Before you could finish, he had wordlessly stepped towards you and collected you in his arms. Your feet left the ground as he picked you up and continued walking further into the house.
âWhat are you doing?â you gasped.
Your legs curled around his back, your body leaning into his chest so as not to fall backwards. He smelled really nice, like how you imagined sunlight hitting the sea on a warm summerâs day would smell.Â
âMaking something to eat,â he finally spoke. His eyes briefly flickered to yours. âIâm hungry.â
Well, you did send him off that morning with some of last nightâs leftover crab cakes, so he couldnât have been that hungry. Plus, he was with his prep team. They wouldâve had plenty of fancy Capitol-esque food on hand to satiate him.
Weird.
âSo that means I donât get a hello?â you teased.
Finally, a small smile worked its way onto his lips. He leaned forward and pressed his lips sweetly and softly to your own, his hands not-so-sweetly squeezing the plush of your ass as he did.
He pulled back and gave you a mischievous look. âHi, sweetheart.â
You smiled bashfully in response. âHi.â
You had passed through the archway into the kitchen, the entire room now being bathed in sunlight from the four oâclock sun. It was the picture of a perfect beach houseâdriftwood and seashell ornaments, sand-coloured benchtops, and large wooden-framed bay windows.
Finnick set you down on the counter facing the stove, your legs now dangling over the edge.Â
âYou just had to bring me into the kitchen with you?â you asked.
He was already out of your arms, scouring the cupboards for various ingredients for whatever it was he was planning to cook up.Â
âGotta have something pretty to look at,â he said, throwing a wink over his shoulder.
Warmth crept into your cheeks. âRight. Obviously.â
A comfortable silence settled between you, apart from the clatter of a metal pot being set on the stove and the splashing of various vegetables and chicken stock being thrown into boiling water. Your legs swung lightly as you watched Finnick in quiet admiration.Â
Steam wafted into the air, bringing with it a sweet herbaceous smell. You hated to admit it, but Finnick was an unbelievable cook; much better than you were. He was constantly offering to teach you his culinary skills which often led to the two of you spending hours together in the kitchen. Burnt and over-salted meals were a common result. Regardless, you enjoyed the time together.
Sometimes it even led to other things as well⊠things very unrelated to cooking.
Finnick seemed to hyper-focused on the soup he was stirring; he was being unusually quiet, making you wonder what was going on inside his head. Had something happened during the time he was away?
âHowâd you go today?â you asked.
He shrugged his shoulders, humming a vague response.
âMm,â you copied, wearing a teasing smile.
He shot you a playful look over his shoulder. Then he did something weird.Â
His head turned again, and he gave you a double-take, eyes falling from your face and to your legs. Your pyjama shorts had ridden up to the crease where your legs and hips connected, and your thighs were squished together on the counter, the cuff of your thigh-high socks digging into the soft flesh. His eyes flickered to yours once more before he turned back around.
Very weird.
An unexpected wave of goosebumps travelled down your entire body. You swallowed nervously and averted your eyes to your lap. It was absurd how a single look from him could cause you to react so strongly. He had so much power over you.
You crossed your legs, palms flat against the bench top on either side of you for support. The entire room was filled with the sweet aroma of the broth Finnick had made, causing your mouth to water from the mere thought of the warm liquid soaking into your tongue.
He lifted the pot from the stove and turned it off, scooping the contents into two bowls. However, when he turned around and walked over to you, he was only holding one.
âJust glad to be home with you,â he said and offered you the bowl.
âOh, thank you,â you said, taking it into your hands.
The bowl was hot against your palms and fingertips, almost burning right down into your bloodstream as the golden liquid wafted steam into your face. Finnickâs gaze followed your movements as you lifted the spoon to your lips and finally felt the delicious heat seep into your tastebuds.Â
Your eyes fluttered shut as you hummed a noise of pleasure, already craving another spoonful. âTastes really good.âÂ
âYeah?â He tilted his head.
Finnick was gently lifting one of your legs into his hands, massaging your calf through the cotton of your socks. His hand wandered down to your ankle, stroking over it with an affectionate touch before gliding back up to the underside of your knee. You had hardly noticed his affectionate behaviour, too distracted by the vibrant tastes filling your mouth.Â
âArenât you gonna eat?â you asked half-heartedly, focused on getting another mouthful in.
âSure am,â he murmured.
Selfishly, you paid his words no mind even though you really should have. You had just lowered the spoon back into the bowl, watching the soup cover the metal when suddenly, your leg was being lifted over the other.Â
Now this got your attention.
You swallowed the warm liquid, eyes looking up at him in confusion. He uncrossed your legs, nudging them open with his hands on your inner thighs before he positioned himself between them. Your thighs were now hugging either side of his hips, your grip on the bowl frozen with uncertainty.Â
âWhat are youâŠ?â you began, but then he was gently taking the bowl and spoon out of your hands and placing them on the bench beside you.
âTold you Iâm hungry, sweetheart,â he said. He placed his hands on either side of you, leaning in until your faces were inches apart. âBeen waiting all day to see you. And these socksâŠâ he trailed off with a sigh, sliding his fingers just beneath the band digging softly into your thigh before letting it snap back in place. âWell, now Iâm practically starving.â
You stared at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. God, you were already breathless.Â
âOh,â you whispered.
He bit his bottom lip and kept lowering his gaze to your mouth, looking at you as if you were a grand three-course meal and he was on death row.Â
âI just need a taste,â he spoke almost pleadingly. âWill you let me?â
Not a single neuron in your brain was firing at that moment. With the way he was staring at you, how gorgeous helooked, and the fact that he was practically begging to be between your thighs, it was almost impossible to say no. It was also impossible for you to verbalise it as well.
âPlease, baby. Youâll let me, wonât you?â he pleaded.
The growing desperation in his voice had you sinking your hips into the counter, feeling yourself begin to ache for him. Of course, as you did this your thighs grew expanded even wider from the pressure and Finnick seemed to like that very much. You could tell from the way his cock left a large print across the front of his pants.
You nodded, speechless.
âYou will?â His hands found the sides of your thighs. âGood.âÂ
Within seconds, he had dragged your body to the edge and collided your pelvis with his. He felt as hard as he looked. You gasped at his eagerness but were immediately cut off by his lips crushing against your own, leading you into a kiss that mirrored the hunger he must have been feeling inside all day.Â
His hand moved into your hair, holding you with a firm yet gentle grip. He was leaning into you, moving his lips so assertively that your body had to lean back to get a sliver of respite. You were buzzing with anticipation like electric currents were moving through your veins. If he was kissing you like this, what would it be like when his lips were further below?
He then pulled away to observe you.Â
âMy beautiful, beautiful girl,â he whispered, gently smoothing the hair beside your face.
You leaned into his touch, enjoying the brief tender moment. Your hand moved onto his and gently squeezed as you looked up at him, gaze doe-eyed and full of false naivety. You knew you were only spurring him on.
âYouâre perfect, you know that?â he said before pressing another peck to your lips. Then he started to go lower. First, he kissed the length of your neck and then the skin above your breasts exposed by your low-cut shirt. âPerfect eyes, perfect lips, perfect thighs.â
He was crouching now, trailing kisses down your stomach which had your fingers weaving into his hair. The descension halted at your upper thighs. His lips left a warm tingling sensation that spread across your skin with each tender touch. You watched him begin moving higher, entering a dangerous region of your inner thighs with lips that were trademarked for trouble.Â
The air in your lungs was in short supply now.
âJust so sweet and soâŠâ His fingers slipped into your waistband and pulled your shorts down your legs. The fabric fell from your ankles and there you sat, your glistening cunt bare and reflecting in Finnickâs green eyes. âSo wet.â
Feeling nervous due to his penetrative stare, you attempted to conceal yourself and began closing your legs. He tsked and forced them open with two sturdy hands. He continued marvelling at the slick that coated your folds, committing the image to his mind.
âSo perfect,â he exhaled.
You were getting impatient now.
âFinnick,â you whined. âPlease. Just⊠Just do someâ"Â
You inhaled sharply. He had rushed forward and finally connected his warm mouth to your cunt.Â
High-pitched breathless moans were already spilling from your lips as his harsh tongue delved between your folds, lapping up the arousal that had leaked out. Your body was restless, which was evident from the way your fingers pulled at his hair, hips bucked into his mouth, and thighs clenched around his head.Â
Hunger and starvationwere not the right terms to describe how he was acting. Not at all.
He was insatiable.
Finnickâs shoulders slid beneath your thighs, forcing your legs to dangle over them. His arms were curled around your legs while his hands kept your legs clamped open from the top of your thighs. He suctioned his lips around your clit, the sensitive flesh growing more swollen as the pressure he applied increased.
You placed a hand on the counter behind you to keep yourself steady, keeping the other hand buried in his golden waves. Your head fell back with a loud moan. He was shaking his head side-to-side in a manner that could only be deemed as animalistic. He was eating you out like a fucking animal. Like he was a predator, and this was his kill.Â
âOh, my god!â you cried out.
He moaned into your pussy, tongue dragging from your opening and back to your clit, savouring every ounce of sweetness he could pull from you. A dull pain was coming from your upper thighs and you quickly realised Finnickâs fingers were digging into your skin. Each time your thighs tried to shut, his fingers buried deeper into your flesh. And mixed with the feeling of his tongue lapping you up, it felt rapturously overwhelming.
His tongue began flicking your clit at such rapid speeds that you werenât even sure a vibrator could replicate it. You were now pulling, no, yanking at his hair all the while your hips were moving closer to his face. The pleasure was so devastating even your body wasnât sure what to do with itself.
âFuck, sweetheart,â his hoarse voice vibrated against your clit, âyâgotta strong grip.âÂ
Your chest heaved as you looked down at him. âFinn, donât stop.âÂ
And of course, he pulled back an inch to look up at you. The sight of him between your legs was fucking glorious. A mix of your juices and spit was dribbling down his chin, coating his lips in a shine you wanted to taste. His hair was dishevelled in a way you could only describe as a sex-crazed mess. Oh, and the way his blown-wide pupils were looking at you⊠like he had a whim to devour you whole right then and there.
âStop? Who said I was ever going to stop?â He smirked.
Then he leaned in and fell back into his previous rhythm. The heels of your feet dug into his back. He was essentially making out your cunt. His tongue was swirling around your clit and kissing it sweetly, as if doing so offered you any reprieve from the exquisite torment he was inducing. Your stomach muscles were aching in the most pleasurable way, sending signals of pure arousal to your brain that made you feel intoxicated.
âLike fucking sugar,â his voice muffled into you.Â
He tongued your entrance, forcing as much as he could inside you. Your walls fluttered with warmth around him and you let out a needy little whine. He flicked his tongue upwards inside you as he slid in and out, thick eyebrows scrunched together as he moaned at your taste soaking into his tastebuds. Â
One of his arms unravelled from your thigh and his tongue retracted from inside you. You whimpered in displeasure, only to gasp as something longer immediately replaced his tongue. Finnickâs mouth was entirely focused on suckling your clit, meanwhile, the two fingers he had slid inside you were focused on pushing your body over the edge.
âFuck,â you breathed heavily. âFuck. Oh, fâah!â
The pads of his fingertips pressed into that swollen spot deep inside you, knuckles prodding your walls as he curled his fingers. He was wildly flicking his tongue over your clit with the added help of his head shaking side-to-side.
You were writhing. Your body had never known such powerful sensations before meeting Finnick. Even after all the time you had been together, you were still trying to get accustomed to how intensely he made you feel. Given that information, you could feel your orgasm rocketing from deep within and to the surface. Flames licked at the muscles in your stomach, spreading like wildfire from your clit.
Finnick looked up at you, and you looked down at him. Look how good I make you feel, his cocky eyes spoke. Your parted lips were dark, flushed with heat and arousal, letting each and every debauched sound echo around the ceramic-tiled room. He plunged his fingers inside you again and your head fell back. You knew he was laughing. You could feel it.
The noises filling the room were pure sex. The sound of Finnickâs fingers squelching inside you, of him sucking and lapping at your pussy, and your whiny half-crazed moansâthey were all that could be heard. And then suddenly your body started tensing.
âIâm so close,â you panted. âFinn, IâmâIâmâFuck!â
And there it was.
Finnick didnât stop. Hell, he somehow even managed to pick up his pace.
Your thighs clamped harshly around his head; this wouldâve worried you if your brain actually had a single thought running through it. Shockwaves of bliss crashed over your body; they consumed you. Your moans came out as choked noises and filthy gratified cries of Finnickâs name as he sucked and curled his fingers in and out.Â
You felt him speaking, most likely words of praise to talk you through your high, but you couldnât hear. White noise buzzed in your ears. Part of you could feel him collecting your juices with his tongue as the built-up tension gushed from your cunt. The other part of you was gone.
At least for a brief period.
When you came back to reality, Finnick was starting to stand back up. His hands were holding both your thighs, keeping them from violently trembling. You stared at him, waiting for the spots in your vision to disappear and the buzzing in your ears to settle. There was nothing you could do about the liquid seeping onto the bench top.
He surveyed your dazed expression, mild concern etched into his features as his eyes flickered between your own. His hand gently cupped the side of your face.Â
âYou here?â he asked, lightly dragging his thumb down your lower lip.
Sweetness coated the tip of your tongue as you licked your bottom lip. Well, no wonder he enjoyed doing that so much. You tasted reallyâŠÂ good.
âIâm okay,â you whispered.
He gave you this beautiful dimpled smile, and he dropped his hand once more. His eyes were on yours, gleaming with mischief as he dragged two fingers up your folds, glazing them in a white shine. You were so sensitive that your hips jerked forward at the light contact, causing him to chuckle softly.
You watched as he lifted his fingers to his lips and within milliseconds, you were reaching out to stop him.
His fingers were so thick and long, and with your arousal coating them, it was damn near impossible to deny yourself the pleasure of having a little taste as well. So, with two hands holding his palm, you guided his fingers towards you.Â
You eyed the liquid for a moment, hesitated, and then licked a long strip from the base of his forefinger and up to his fingertip. Then, closing your eyes, you wrapped your lips around the length and began sucking. It was a potent taste, both overpowering and lingering. Not bad though. You moved onto his middle finger, this time keeping your eyes on Finnick as you sucked it clean.
His expression reflected something of astonishment, letting out a perplexed chuckle as he watched. With a wet pop, his fingers were out of your mouth. You were holding his large palm and pressing a soft kiss to each of his fingertips, a tender and affectionate gesture compared to the act you just pulled.
Finnick shook his head at you, wearing a disbelieving smile.
âWhat?â you asked, feigning innocence.Â
âWhat,â he echoed your response under his breath. He grabbed your chin, leaning down until you were face-to-face. âYou play a dangerous game, sweetheart.â
Then his lips were on yours and when his tongue slipped into your mouth, all that could be tasted was you. That previous animalistic air about him had dissipated; he was gentler now, kissing you in a way that was adoring rather than bordering primal. Not that you had been complaining.
His pelvis was pressed against yours. More accurately, his cock was pressed against your pelvis. Whoever made his pants must have used strong threading. He was so hard that you were surprised the seams hadnât ripped apart and exposed him altogether. You were surprised but also thankful because undoing his pants was your job.Â
Your hands moved to his chest and pushed him backwards. His lips left yours with a displeased grunt.Â
âOh, donât you worry, Finn,â you said, your hands trickling down his torso. âIâve worked up an appetite myself as well.â
He looked down at you, eyes oozing with seduction. âReally?â
âMhm.â
You slid off the counter, feeling his erection glide over your body. The fragrant smell of marinated vegetables and chicken still lingered in the room. You should have felt disheartened about not finishing the mouth-watering soup Finnick had madeâor perhaps even the entire pot. But as you sank to your knees and began unbuttoning his pants, you realised there was one thing that was a great deal more appetising.Â
Peering up at him through your lashes, you saw him looking down at you with a lazy smirk.Â
Your lips stretched into a sinful smile. âMy turn.â
#finnick odair#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair smut#finnick odair fluff#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x y/n#finnick odair x fem!reader#sam claflin#the hunger games#mockingjay#catching fire#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair drabble#finnick x reader#finnick imagine#thg finnick#finnick x you
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EVERY MINUTE OF IT
Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Bucky x Female!Omega!Reader Word Count: 4k Summary: Claimed unequivocally by Alpha Bucky Barnes, leader of the growing HYDRA faction, that's not the end of it. But what exactly is in store for you? What will it mean to be his Omega?
Content/Warnings: omegaverse; reluctant attraction; power dynamics; mild manipulation; threats; dirty talk; explicit smut: spanking, vaginal fingering, biting, rough sex, choking, edging, orgasm denial, slapping, spitting, oral (male and female receiving), unprotected vaginal intercourse and insemination, dacryphilia, overstimulation, erotic picture taking
Author Notes: Part three to what I never planned on being a series - the Alpha Bucky April drabble was only 500 words, the next part hit 1.5k, but this... well, let's just say this Bucky absolutely had his way with both me and my muse. This one will be a make up to tick orgasm delay/denail for MARCH of @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ; and the dialogue, alpha, and pet prompts for the second week of Hot Bucky Summer (thought this was going to be a short little thing I was going to whip out before week two had finished, but alas hahaha).
A/N 2: We've seen only a bit of his rough side up to this pont, but in this part we will truly see mean Alpha Bucky. Don't say I didn't warn you - here and with the actual content warning list.
A/N 3: I tried not to write any plot with this porn, but a minimal amount forced its way in.
He had made good on his threat, using your body for pleasure and for show under the full moon until there was no one left to watch, but you were not sure he had been keeping close track, instead merely taking you over and over until they grey hours of dawn. You had been too exhausted to register anything much after that â being carried away, a car ride, being tucked into a bed.
You had woken up in the afternoon alone.
Alone for the first time in three days.
On hearing you make your way to the bathroom someone had brought in water and left an impressive spread of food that lasted you through the afternoon and evening. You grazed and slept.
Your body and mind had been pushed beyond all previous limits, and so the sleep and rest had been most of those first few days after the full moon and the conquerorâs bonding ritual.
But now, a week on, you are tired, restless, and impatient.
You were in a spacious penthouse, you had been offered many luxuries, well fed by a personal chef, attended to by an assistant, your only restrictions being denied access to a phone or internet and barred from leaving the premises.
Should you have chosen an unplugged retreat or vacation, it would be perfect.
After contemplating and debating internally all morning, at lunch you make your decision. You finish yet another delicious meal, wipe your mouth with the beautiful linen napkin, and then set it down next to the bone china and plated gold utensils. The staff begins to move around you, and your assistant approaches.
Before she can say anything else, you take a deep breath and say, âI need to see him.â
Thereâs no question of who you mean.
She nods. âIâll make the request.â
Whether pet or prisoner and left alone for more than seven days, you do not believe your request will be seen as any sort of priority, so when you see the more formal dining table set for two for dinner, your mouth drops open for a moment, and you stop in your tracks.
You turn to your assistant â even though she tries to afford you most of your privacy, she is ever on the edge of your presence. She looks as surprised as you. âI was given no response other than that theyâd take the request under consideration.â
You nod, then pace, padding barefoot across the hardwood floor in front of floor-to-ceiling windows, until you finally hear the rustle and then commotion of activity that announces his arrival.
Your heart races, but itâs only a few more moments before the large and imposing alpha, Bucky Barnes, appears in front of you.
âOmega,â he says with a mere nod of his head, no pretense.
Your eyes narrow a fraction, wary of his seemingly easy demeanor. âAlpha.â
âShall we?â he asks, and motions to the table.
You nod and take a seat as he does.
Within seconds, the meal is brought in by two attendants and the chef, and Bucky thanks and praises them very simply.
He occasionally looks at you, regarding you, but does not speak.
Before long, you huff, and he looks up sharply, pinning you with his steel blue eyes, harsher than at any point since heâd arrived. âWhat?â he demands.
âWhat is all of this?â you start, gesturing your hand to indicate the penthouse. âAnd where have you been?â
He sets down his knife and fork and straightens a little more. âIs it not to suited to your liking? You can change anything you want. This is your place.â
âMy place?â you ask.
âYes, your place. It is not far from the place Iâve taken up residence.â
The revelation is not surprising, but somehow more irritating. âAnd what? Youâve had me and now youâre discarding me?â
âI should have thought youâd want your own place.â
Maybe you should want your own place, away from him. And yetâŠ
âI should be wherever you are.â
âWhat?â he scoffs. âSo you can be embroiled in my affairs and bring me down? âKeep your friends close and your enemies closer?ââ
The accusation wounds you, though you know itâs only logical â and you know what youâre thinking and feeling isnât logical. You have determined to put off thinking about it.
âIâm not your friend,â you state, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. âbut Iâm not your enemy either.â
âWhat should I call you then?â he challenges.
You raise your chin a fraction. âIâm your Omega.â
He doesnât speak or move immediately. Instead, his eyes somehow fix you even more intently. Thereâs a burning in your chest under his scrutiny, but you remain still.
Finally, he stands and moves toward you, the two of you never taking your eyes off the other.
âYou are my Omega.â
He comes to stand behind your chair, and you remain unmoving. He takes your chin in his left hand and tilts your head to expose your neck to him. He leans down and noses along your jaw, inhaling your scent and putting your body on alert. You feel the curling tendrils of want stir in your core, already awakening for him. He tilts your head even more and draws his teeth along the side of your throat, causing a shiver you canât suppress, and he chuckles darkly and licks at the fresher of the two bonding marks he gave you. His hot tongue, insistently pressing at the bite elicits a small noise from you, and your right hand shoots up to card into his hair. Your full omega side wants him, has started to slicken your pussy for him already, you can feel it. You know your alpha can smell it.
He bites over the mark, but not roughly enough to break the skin, and you arch up for more, but he pushes himself back up, away from you and the crook of your neck.
âSo needy,â he remarks, âI like this.â
The first few days youâd spent with him, heâd kept you full of his cock, tortured with pleasure, overwhelmed, exhausted by him and the recipient of a seemingly insatiable lust unleashed on you.
This feels like the predator is going to play with his prey, and you bite your lip. He pushes your head, tilted to the left, to the right to drop into his other hand, clearly testing your compliance. Itâs gentle, but itâs dominant. Back to the left, then to the right, and then he dips to nip at your ear, and you gasp.
Bucky releases your head from between his large hands then pulls your chair away from the table. âUp.â
You stand. He puts one hand on your hip and ushers you around the edge of the table and to the side, in the middle, and turns you to face the wide expanse of mahogany and its centerpiece of fresh flowers â white peonies, white roses, white hydrangeas.
âPut your hands on the table,â he instructs.
You press the palms of your hands onto the smooth, dark wood. Your omega side is ready â even eager â to comply, but with your own long game to play, you know you must play out whatever game he desires now.
âArch your back,â is his next direction.
Keeping your breathing even, you do, hips jutting away from the table, on display for him.
The back of his hand lands at the nape of your neck, and he drags his knuckles slowly down your spine. Your body rocks back, seeking more, as he reaches the small of your back, and he hums in self-satisfaction.
While his vibranium hand plants itself on your hip, he moves the other around to skim slowly over your stomach, then up your rib cage, and to your breast. He gropes the round flesh through your shirt and bra, but the fabric does nothing to quell how the pressure stokes the fire growing in you.
You feel the heat of him press up your back as his hand moves now up your neck, turning your head to kiss him. You push back against him, and he ruts his bulge slightly into your ass. Your lips are hungry in the kiss, but itâs like he only provided his lips for you to kiss him, receiving what your lips want to give. He moves his hand back down to your chest, but this time slipping beneath the neckline and going flesh to flesh to palm your breast. He kneads diligently, almost methodically, and you know all of this is designed to warm you up, tease you, get you burning for him. Heâs still largely a stranger to you, but you also know you canât resist him. Heâs spent so much time already playing with your body. He knows where and how to touch you to make you respond to him after those first days and nights spent naked with him.
Bucky moves again, ending the kiss, drawing away from your back and removing the hand from your breast. You whine, but that hand goes to the small of your back again, the vibranium hand squeezing your hip as he forces you spine to resume the curving posture for him once more.
âWeâre only getting started, Omega. Be patient.â
You huff, and he laughs.
The fingers of both his hands slip into the top of your waistband. He slowly pulls your pants and underwear down over your hips, and down your legs to mid-thigh. It restricts your bottom extremities, and that plays into the mental game heâs clearly playing with you. His hands move up the back of your naked thighs, and then palms your ass with both hands. He squeezes both cheeks, goes back to palming them again, then withdraws his right hand and slaps that cheek harshly. You jump and yelp, but he merely goes back to palming and squeezing, soothing the smacked flesh. Then another slap, and you hiss at the sting over the first sting. His vibranium hand continues groping your round flesh, but instead of soothing the second smack, his flesh hand dips down to your dripping hole, where he inserts two fingers, then quickly adds a third.
âAlpha,â you moan, and your head falls back, eyes closed both to hold back a couple of tears and to soak in the barrage of sensations.
He doesnât answer, but his fingers continue dipping in and out, slow and shallow.
He delivers another harsh slap, immediately returns to the maddening fingering until youâre keening and trying to hump his hand.
Abruptly he grips your hips with both hands and turns you around to face him. The cool metal hand grips you by the neck, tilting your face up helplessly to him, and this kiss is messy, demanding, teeth nipping at your lips. You kiss him back as well as you can as he is in full control of your head and holds you where he wants you. Both your hands hold tightly to his forearm, and you squeeze.
His other hand goes to the cut of you again below, but thereâs more fervor there this time. He plunders your mouth and plunders your pussy, and youâre losing your breath, but you have no wish for him to relent as you feel the powerful orgasm you crave building and barreling towards you. His fingers curl against the spongy spot on your inner wall, this thumb is demanding against your pulsing clit, and his tongue is licking dominantly into your mouth. Youâre trembling and clutching at him, moaning, only when your breath hitches, inches away from bliss, he pulls back.
You cry out as he looms over you. His smirk is cruel, and his eyes spark with fire.
âAlpha!â
He licks his one of his fingers, just one.
âAlpha, please,â you groan.
âMy well-mannered Omega,â he coos. âWeâll make a mess of you yet,â he says. Youâre unsure whether itâs a threat or a promise, but you have no space or time to think as he moves you again, hoisting and pushing you by the grip on your chin around and away from the table until your back is flush against the wall.
Bucky pushes you down to your knees, pinches your mouth open, then spits on your tongue. "Swallow it."
You donât think, just swallow as his eyes bore into yours as he towers over you.
He strokes his thumb over your cheek â nearly a caress, and you canât help leaning ever so slightly into his touch. Then his thumb moves from your cheek to your lips, tracing them before pressing down to open your mouth again. He inserts two of the fingers that had been in your cunt into your mouth, and you close your mouth and begin to suck without him having to say so. The look on his face shows his approval. As you suck, thereâs something so soothing about, the weight of his fingers pressing down on your tongue, the stead rhythm, that it that lulls you even further into a state of submission for him. Your eyes begin to droop.
He chuckles and withdraws his fingers, wiping them on your face. âDonât want that so soon in our evening.â
He begins to unbuckle his belt, and you reach for the button and zipper, but he bats your hands away and slaps your cheek.
You look up sharply at him, reaching to soothe your cheek.
âAsk nicely for your Alphaâs cock, Omega.â
His first nights with you were about physical domination. This is the other half, yielding, submission.
You think best how to ask, before saying, âPlease let me put my lips around your cock, Alpha.â
He unbuttons his trousers but keeps his eyes on yours. âTell me how you want me to use your mouth, Omega,â
âIâŠâ you bite your lip. You arenât a stranger to sex, but speaking so directly about it isnât something youâve done with any of your partners in the past.
Bucky lowers the zipper. He pushes the band of his boxers down far enough to free his cock, and you whimper. He fists his arousal slowly. âYou want it, then tell me what you want exactly. Youâve already let me use your body in so many ways, we both know you want more. What are you craving?â
You wait only another beat before answering, âWant you to fuck my throat.â
You are impressed at the evenness of your own tone in that moment, and his lips tick up as well.
Bucky widens his stance, then leans down to wrap his left arm around your head, holding it â almost cradling it â in the crook of his elbow. The he pushes his cock to your lips, you open for him, he pushes in, and starts truly fucking your mouth. The first few thrusts are slow, but insistent. He fills your mouth with more of him with each of those first thrusts. Then the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. He thrusts out and in again, again, again. His other hand strokes your cheek. Then he slaps it, and you groan around his cock.
âMmmm, fuck you feel good,â he echoes your groan. âGonna take all of your alphaâs cock down this pretty throat,â he says, and his hand moves down to your neck, feeling himself push in there.
Your eyes are tearing up, and the tears quickly start to spill over as he continues to use your throat, never removing himself completely now that heâs overtaken your mouth. He slaps your cheek twice in quick succession and you sob around his cock as you can manage. Itâs hard to breathe, and your chest heaves. You brace yourself against his thighs, and he straightens and pulls out of you.
Bucky moves quickly, taking you by the shoulders and tossing you into the middle of the floor â rough but not violent.
âClothes off,â he barks, but itâs he didnât need to employ an alpha command to get you to comply. You barely have enough time to discard your pants and underwear the rest of the way, and only manage to get your shirt over your head in the time it takes him to get naked.
Heâs on you the next instant, covering your body with his. With his chest pressed down against yours, you feel how his breathing is just as heavy as your own, glad heâs not as unaffected as heâs tried to play this encounter.
You hitch your thighs up around his torso and squeeze your knees around him.
But he doesnât give you what youâre most anxious for yet, instead pausing to study your face.
âSuch a pretty mess,â he admires.
Heat pulses through your body, his praise undeniable to your omega side.
He dips his head to lap up the salt of some of your tears, tongue dragging slowly up your cheek. When he draws back again, he merely looks at you. His eyes seem to be looking for something, but you donât know what. You try not to give him anything outside of this moment.
His pelvis is lodged between your hips, so you squirm beneath him, hoping your hot, dripping cunt will call him back to your pressing needs. He groans and drops his forehead to yours, another sign heâs not as cool and detached as he was at the outset.
âPlease, please fuck me, Alpha,â you beg.
âFill you up with my cock? With my seed?â
âYes, Alpha!â
He draws his hips back and you reach down and help line up his cock with your hole. He spears in with no mercy, and you donât need or want it. You groan together as he fills you completely.
Your mouths meet again, and itâs a combination of rough messy kisses, nipping and bites, licking, mingled heavy breaths. Itâs primal and unhinged, and thereâs no thought to it as he continues to fuck you.
The pace at which he thrusts is relentless and just what you need, but also not enough.
You want more and you whimper and beg through kissing for it.
Bucky continues fucking you and pulls away from your lips, but in no way is he done overwhelming you. Leaning heavily onto his vibranium arm planted next to your head, he moves his other arm and presses his inner wrist up and down your neck insistently. The sound that escapes your mouth is broken and needy as the flooding of his scent directly In and around you engulfs your senses. Then heâs also sucking on your original bonding mark until you are a heaving, panting, crying mess, clawing at his back, unable to even put coherent words together to beg for him.
His shifts just enough that his pubic bone grinds down against your clit as he pounds into your pussy. You are practically vibrating with the impending orgasm, and as your alpha can undoubtedly sense that through the bond, he bites down on your mark, and you scream and fly into your release. Your walls clench hard around him, and he growls through two more powerful thrusts before he shouts, and you feel the heat of his seed star to fill you up. He pumps and pumps until heâs left every drop he can inside of you, then collapses on top of you.
He doesnât move, pressing you down with all his weight as you both recover from the ecstasy youâve just experienced. You almost move to stroke your fingers up and down his spine, but you quell that impulse. You do allow yourself to keep your hands on his back though â still, but connected to this man, your alpha, who dealt you such rough but undeniable pleasure.
Finally, Bucky pushes up off you, but surprises you when he scoops you up and carries you away bridal style, heading toward your bedroom.
âAlpha?â
âYou really want to live under the same roof?â he asks.
 âYes,â you answer simply.
He glances down at your face, brows furrowed, then looks back ahead as he heads down the hallway.
âOkay then.â
âYes?â
âYes,â he affirms, entering your room.
He tosses you onto the bed, and crawls up over you again. He reaches beneath your back to unclasp your bra, and you let him pull it from your shoulders and toss it off to the side. Closing the gap between your bodies, you relish the feeling of his bare chest against yours, his chest hair teasing your nipples. He grips your chin yet again, this time with his vibranium hand, and looks into your eyes with a steely, cold stare.
âIf youâre anything other than the good omega I require, I will send you back here, but it wonât be like this last week has been. You will be in absolute exile. Donât test me â there will be no chances.â
You give a single nod of your head.
He pushes up and leans back then, kneeling above you.
âBut you donât want to jeopardize or risk that, do you?â
âNo, Bucky.â
Itâs the first time youâve called him anything other than alpha and he clocks that, you see the flash of acknowledgement in his eyes.
âYou want to be with your alpha, you want the limited freedom you know I can give you if I choose to, but you also have your own agendaâ
It wasnât a question, and you know you canât fool him â you know he is too smart for that, and you know he knows you are intelligent in your own right. He made it clear when he closed in on your peopleâs territory thatâs why your compliance and claiming you as his omega was part of the deal of surrender to spare any more bloodshed.
âCross me and your future will only be visitations when I require you to service my ruts.â
You donât doubt his threat.
âDo we have an accord, Omega?â
âYes, Alpha.â
The words you two exchanged the fateful night of that initial surrender.
He nods.
âIt seems fitting to seal it by kiss.â
You sit up and then kneel before him on the bed, he bends his head down to kiss you. Itâs fervent, solemn, but he cuts it off before it develops into anything more.
âStay here,â he orders, sliding off the bed.
That was an alpha command â wholly unnecessary except to remind you of his power.
You scowl at his retreating form, then huff once heâs out of the room.
Heâs quick, and when he comes back in the room, he is slowly stroking his cock with one hand, and holds his phone in the other. He steps up to the edge of the bed.
âA kiss here, as well,â he says, pushing his hips forward.
You crawl to him, lower your head, and kiss his cock. He nods at you, indicating he expects more. You take the tip of his semi-hard cock into your mouth, lave your tongue around the tip, and then suck, looking up at him. He takes a few photos, moaning at your ministrations.
âFuck you couldnât look more pretty and more ruined,â he whispers. He tosses the phone down, then pushes you off him and back onto the bed, manhandling your hips to get you planted in the center of the mattress with your thighs splayed open obscenely.
âOnly fair for me to finish sealing the agreement and kiss these lips as well.â
He dives in like a man starved, despite the rounds youâve just finished. He pulls your next orgasm quickly from your fluttering pussy. You would be surprised, only youâve come to accept that he has already acquired a dangerous â and delicious â knowledge of your body.
He looks up at you and grins and then goes in immediately for another.
You try and push him away and close your legs, feeling overstimulated, but he growls and roughly forces your thighs open again.
âYour one chance of being my good omega is already begun. So, youâre going to let me eat the pussy that belongs to me until youâre a sobbing overstimulated mess and think you canât possibly take any more, but you will. And since this should be the last night we ever spend in this bed, when Iâve had my fill of lapping at your sweet, dripping cunt, Iâm going to see if I canât fuck you hard and long enough to break the bed.â
You can only hope your gamble to deal with the devil of HYDRA will not be your undoing.
â Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest full Fine Line Collection
Everyone check your pulse, please. Mine is gone.
I'm not saying this is officially a series, but I think we HAVE fallen into a collection territory... Unless y'all are through with this Alpha Bucky...
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#alpha bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#female reader#aspen wrote something#fine line collection
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cursed : azriel x reader
in which azriel has a crush on a witch, and thinks she cursed him.
warnings: none (unedited)
word count: 1.4k
âSheâs quite the character huh?â Cassian says to Azriel, staring at you. He grunts in response wondering why you are currently in a handstand competition with a couple of kids in the middle of town. Kind of in awe how your little black dress didn't fall down to your face with you being upside down, but that's a perk of being a witch, he thinks.Â
As if you heard them talking about you, your gaze finds theirs. You grin and then lose balance and gracefully fall out of the handstand. It being the last day of summer did make it a cool one but still having been outside with a summer camp of kids you were quite dewy with sweat. Your face was flushed and damp as you made your way towards the two men.Â
âHi Cassian!â You say with a grin, you turn and look at Azriel, your smile falling into a smaller one. âSpymaster.â You nod. Cassian lets a chuckle slip through at Azâs blank face. You were always like this with him. He never fully understood why. You kept him at a distance always but managed to be involved in every one elseâs business. He often thought it was because you could not stand him. And then he thought you were terrified of him, because letâs face it, that was more believable.
You were making small talk with Cassian when Azriel started to get lost in his mind thinking of you and how it seemed you teased him on occasion. With your little quips here and there. Constantly smelling like those fresh baked chocolate-chip muffins that were his guilty pleasure to eat when he got back from long missions
He noticed eventually that Cassian had walked away from you two when a group of kids started playing tag with him. He turned to look at you where you decided to sit on the grass, he made a quick decision to sit next to you. Both of you were silent, but for once it was comfortable.
The path leading up to your small little house on the bank of the Sidra was always well lit at night. Glowing with purple and orange lanterns their reflection makes it seem brighter than it was that night. Your house was on the smaller side (still fairly large all considering.) But you loved to host seasonal parties due to them being in connection with your magic and since summer was ending and fall was starting, it was the perfect time to throw one of your celebrations.Â
Currently the Inner Circle is in your living room drinking and eating food you have made for them. Your familiar, Silly the tabby cat, has made their home on Azrielâs lap. He doesnât seem to mind though. Gently petting the cat's soft fur. You stare at them from the kitchen with a soft smile on your face.Â
âYou could just tell him you know.â Nesta says from behind you, scaring the absolute shit out of you. You place a hand over your chest and let out a deep breath. âNesta, Iâm going to put a bell on you.â She laughs lightly as you scrunch up your nose.Â
âI am not joking though.â She says softly, and you look back at him now playing with Silly on the couch. âHe canât even stand to be in the same room as me for more than ten minutes. There is no way I could tell him how I feel.â She hums in response.Â
âI think youâd be surprised.â And then she walks back out to sit with Cassian. You did deeply care about Azriel, borderline loved him. You felt connected to him in a way you couldnât describe, just that your soul was at peace with him. Your magic proved that theory too. It sometimes appears to you in colorful hazes around people.Â
Every color had a different meaning, the majority of the Inner Circle had a warm orange around them. Your magic had to be newer or just not have a written history because there is barely any research on what these colors mean. However, you chalked it up to orange meaning some of the most important people in your life. Azriel though, he had a beautiful blue humming around him almost constantly for you, and you had no idea what that meant.
You must have been lost in thought for a while because the next person to scare you was Rhys with Nyx on his hip. He was building another plate for Feyre and Nyx to pick off of.Â
âYou okay?â He asked you softly. Nyxâs grubby hands reaching for the fresh food on the plate, you and Rhys both grin at that. You nod your head in response to his earlier question.Â
âMaybe ask him to hang out with you?â He says, like it's that easy. You shake your head, âI donât know about that.âÂ
âWell, it doesnât hurt to try.â You watch him leave the kitchen and decide it's time to do the same.Â
You follow Rhys back into your living space, where it's warm of laughter and love. You sit down on the only open seat, which happens to be on the couch next to Azriel. Silly runs over to your lap and demands petting. You look down at the orange cat with love and when you look back up you meet Azrielâs puzzled stare.
âWhat?â You ask him softly, nudging the cat off your lap gently. You turn to fully face him when he abruptly stands up. He grabs your arm and pulls you towards the outside.Â
âWe will be back.â He says gruffly towards everybody, dragging you along.
âPlease for the love of Mother, take your time.â Cassian says with a cheeky grin, âWe have bets placed.â to which earns him a vulgar gesture from both you and Azriel.
When you go outside he drags you closer to the river and further from the house. Probably to avoid prying ears and eyes, but with everyoneâs magic you go ahead and place a sound proofing spell over the two of you.
âIs everything alright Azriel?â You ask him after a moment of silence. He turns back around to look at you with something close to⊠fear? Â
âSo, what is it?â You look at him deadpanned and tilt your head in confusion.
âWhat spell did you place on me? Why, when I go to sleep I think about how I hope you had a good day. When I wake up I wonder if you actually ate breakfast and not forgetting after you have your morning coffee. And tonight, I wonder where you go when this party is mainly in celebration for you and I am busy playing with your cat and not with you.â He gets out in one breath. I stare at him for a moment and when I open my mouth he interrupts me again,
âWhy is it when you are near my hands shake less and my worries ease but when you are gone I crave your scent. What curse? What spell?â Azriel genuinely looks shaken for a moment, and for a second so do you.Â
âI didnât know you felt that way too, Azriel.â You say and approach him with a soft smile. When you guys finally make eye contact though something inside you both, snaps. Your eyes widen and so do his. Mate.
You let out a little giggle that eventually turns into a full laugh. âYou thought I cursed you?â You say through giggles, âI thought you hated me Az.âÂ
âAh, well that goes both ways.â He responded with a smile. You look at him in confusion. âI could never hate you.â
âYou couldnât stand to be near me.â He quips back.
âNo. You couldnât stand to be near me.â You say and jokingly sniff at him. He shakes his head and grins. âWe are both stupid.â You nod your head in agreement.Â
âA couple of stupid mates, huh.â You look up at him, now leaning shoulder to shoulder.Â
âYeah something like that.â And then he kisses you.Â
Warm lips slotting over yours softly, you both start getting a little more heated with each other. Hands finding their way into your hair while yours go around his neck. His lips softly biting yours and then pulling away. You arch and reach up on your tiptoes in a feat of chasing his lips. He grins at you, puts his hands on your cheeks and kisses your nose.Â
âLetâs go back inside.â He whispers and leans back, as if heâs afraid that this will all be a dream if one of you speaks too loudly.
âI am kicking everyone out the minute we get back inside.â You whisper back and kiss his collar bone.Â
âThat sounds great to me.â he says and with that you both walk back to your house holding hands.Â
a/n: so this was completely self indulgent, I wanted a cozy azriel fic!
please tell me what you think!
I don't own any characters that sarah j. mass created.
#acotar#azriel acotar#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x you#azriel fluff#azriel fanfic#azriel x yn#azriel spymaster#acotar fluff#acotar fanfiction#cozy azriel fanfic
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Tolerate It
pls enjoy this kinda angsty little thing I wrote a couple of months ago when I was really going through it in a relationship and have been too shy to post anywhere until today. I miiiiight have the second part to this halfway done. If this sucks I'm so sorry lmao itâs very lightly proofread and I have not written anything that hasn't had to be turned in for a grade in years.
Part Two
You sit alone at the table wondering how you ended up here. The dinner you'd spent the better part of the evening preparing grows cold as you sip on what has to be your third glass of wine. From your spot you can see Abby standing at the counter, speaking softly into the phone while she reads through the mail that had piled up over the last week. You pick at your food, hoping she'll join you eventually, but when fifteen minutes turns into twenty and then thirty five, you realize you're wasting your time. The laughter from the other room tells you the work part of the call ended long ago. Pushing your chair back, not caring when the loud noise earns you a glare from Abby, you gather your plate and blow out the candles at the center of the table.
Abby moves to sit on the loveseat in the living room after her call. It doesn't take long for her to get lost in the new book she had just brought home. Your eyes shift to the untouched plate of food still waiting for her in the dining room and then to the apple in her hand. The sound of your throat clearing catches her attention.
"Your plate is still at the table if you want it, babe." You gesture to the lone plate at her usual spot.
There's a pang in your chest at the sight of the floral arrangement you'd chosen for the week. Behind that, strong wind pelts rain at the window. The gloomy weather a perfect representation of the storm brewing inside you.
"I thought I told you I had an early dinner with a couple of colleagues."
"Oh."
It comes out as a whisper. Not bothering to tell her she hadn't called you back after her lunch break. Again. You make a mental note to put the plate away before bed, knowing she'll pack it for tomorrow.
Your arms are elbow deep in soapy water, trying to rush through the last couple of dishes before she retreats to her study. The clanking of pots and pans fills the quiet space. You scrub at a particularly stubborn spot, trying to think of a way to bring it up without sounding too obvious.
"How was work today?"
"Fine." Your wife replies, not elaborating further.
"It's the twenty first, right?" There's some hesitation in the question.
"Yup."
Okay.
She doesn't look up from her book when you shuffle past her a little while later, placing a steaming mug on the coffee table. Her hand caresses the soft skin of your thigh and you perk up when she mumbles a soft thanks, placing a quick kiss on her temple. The sleeping cat on her lap stirs when you give him a gentle scratch behind the ear.
You settle into the sofa across from her and watch her read. She's in the cotton pajamas and fuzzy socks you'd laid out in the closet for her. It makes you feel ridiculously overdressed. Your hands fist the skirt of your dress, feeling foolish. There's a dark spot on the satin material from leaning over the wet counter.
The record player in the far corner of the room catches your attention. You miss the nights where she'd play you one of her favorites and dance with you around the living room before letting you sit on her lap as she read out loud to you. You never thought you would miss those boring medical journals. These days you're lucky if you get more than an hour with her before she locks herself in her study.
It hadn't always been like this. The two of you have been together longer than you've been apart. Visions of eleven year old Abby teaching you how to braid her hair for soccer practice flash in your head. Crawling into her bed in the middle of the night after another nasty fight between your parents. Summer vacations to her family's lake house. Her and her parents at every dance recital and play you'd ever been part of in high school. Realizing at sixteen that your feelings for the girl weren't so platonic. Then moving into the spare bedroom down the hall from her a year later after coming out to your family. Prom dress shopping with her and her mother, sneaking kisses in the tiny fitting rooms. The Anderson's were the family you never had.
Navigating young adulthood with Abby had been fun. You'd rented a tiny apartment in Seattle and paid way too much for it while attending university. It wasn't much, but it was home. You remember the dance parties in the tiny living room. The time the blonde begged you to let her keep the tiny cat she'd found in an alley on the way home one random afternoon. Going on dates and exploring the city. Staying up late and fantasizing about what life would look like in ten years. The look on her face as her thumb rubbed small circles on the exposed skin of your belly after you'd shown her your list of baby names. Getting married just after graduation.
Abby had never been too busy to show you how much she loved you, no matter how busy she got with school. Packing your meals for work, making sure your car had enough gas in it, organizing stay at home date nights whenever your schedules aligned. And you doing the same for her when she was up to her eyebrows in work for school.
The notes were your favorite. They had started appearing randomly after you'd been unexpectedly laid off. You'd been moping around the house for weeks, losing hope after not hearing back from any of the companies you'd applied to. Always in your favorite color, the purple post it notes could be found stuck to the wherever you'd see them first thing in the morning. The silly declarations of love and the affirmations always made you smile.
Those days were long gone. You were slowly going from high school sweethearts to two people who simply co-existed. No matter what you did or how hard you tried, it was getting harder to deny the lack of warmth in her eyes when she looked at you sometimes. Today proved what you had been too afraid to admit to yourself. The only person who had ever felt like home has slowly started becoming a stranger that slipped into your bed later and later each night.
Your eyes start stinging and you bite down on your lower lip. There's no way you're breaking down in front of her, not tonight. The warmth radiating from the fireplace does little to keep away the chill running through your body. Shaky hands bring the mug to your lips, hoping some tea would calm the nausea swirling in your stomach. You're not surprised to find yourself unable to keep drinking after a few tiny sips. Abby's favorite mug grows cold on the coffee table and you're positive she doesn't even remember it's there.
The sound of her phone ringing startles you both. Abby snatches the phone off the counter, a tired sigh leaves her parted lips when she sees who's calling. She jogs up the steps, intently listening to whoever is on the other end of the phone. You pick at the chipping nail polish on your left hand, watching the way your engagement ring glints in the dim light of the fire. Your stomach dips as you slip the stack off your finger, placing them in the small bowl on the coffee table.
"Are you going somewhere?" Your head shoots up to where she's standing in the threshold. The sight of her in a fresh pair of navy blue scrubs doesn't surprise you. Her loose bun traded for a tight braid that hangs over her shoulder.
"No. Why would I be?"
She gestures at your dress. Eyes roaming over your face, finally noticing the makeup you'd carefully applied hours before. You see her lock in on your empty hand, her sculpted brows furrow in confusion. Please say something. You beg, just wanting to understand why this is happening. Was she so busy she couldn't even bother to ask what's wrong? Did she even care anymore?
The constant buzzing of the phone in her tote bag answers your question for you. She shakes her head and turns to the door, stopping to slip her feet into her sneakers. You follow silently behind her, wondering if you should say something.
"Abigail?"
She hums in acknowledgment, not bothering to look up from her phone. Her fingers move at lightning speed across the touchscreen. Your nails dig into the palm of your hand, fighting the urge to snatch her phone and chuck it against the wall.
"What?" She asks again when you don't speak up. The look of annoyance on her face has you taking a step back.
"Nevermind," you turn towards the coat closet, pulling out her winter jacket. "It doesn't matter." You don't have to look back to know she's rolling her eyes.
"I should be back before you leave for work." You busy yourself with the already organized closet, pretending to move things around while she gathers the rest of her things.
"Be careful." You mumble, blinking rapidly to stop the tears from flowing. Not trusting yourself to say much more without your throat closing.
"Always am." She plants a kiss on the back of your head and heads out the door. It's only when you hear the sound of her car pulling away that you let yourself cry. No longer caring about the mascara that is certainly smearing.
Unsteady legs carry to the foot of the stairs where you collapse into a pathetic heap. Tears freely flowing down your cheeks, further staining the material of your dress. Your hands harshly pull at the fabric, wanting nothing more than to rip it off. The pins in your hair clatter loudly on the floor as you harshly pull them out.
Your sobs echo throughout the empty house. Pain radiates through your body, from somewhere in your chest to the tips of your fingers. The nausea has increased tenfold. You inhale sharply, resting your head on your knees. Watery eyes fixed on the front door your wife had just walked out of, this gut wrenching feeling of loneliness overwhelms you.
"Happy anniversary Abby."
#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson#abby tlou#abby the last of us#abby x you#abby anderson angst#abby anderson x female reader
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Old dog
Daryl Dixon x reader | SMUTđ
Daryl is never been watched with such interest before, and it grabs his attention. But he feels like he got his order of actions wrong..
The Kingdom was a strange place.
First there was the King, with his pet tiger.
The King spoke in a strange manner, and his ever so friendly right hand too.
The Queen was a kind woman, she had shown you around and given you a roof over your head after you wandered into her lands.
The Kingdom had guards on horseback, and all its residents referred to their leader as the King.
Like a true old age Kingdom.
It was near summer when you arrived and took some time to get settled, now having your routine all worked out and were a happy new addition to the bakery.
While it meant crazy early mornings, it brought many people a good start of their day. You made your delivery rounds as the first people got up to tend to the gardens before the sun got too hot, passing then with a kind smile and a good morning wish on your way to the school building where you'd make your last delivery of the day.
You continued your daily tasks back at the bakery when a returning resident came by.
Each day he'd come by to pick up the same order, so by now it was standard to have it ready by a certain time.
Like clockwork he showed up, the gorgeous older man with his grey streaked hair that framed his bearded face oh so perfect.
You always wondered about the scar that sat around one of his sea blue eyes, but you never found the courage to ask.
You only knew his first name because the baker mentioned it once.
Daryl.
With rough, scarred hands he accepted the packaged food but remained in his spot.
"M'sorry, ya don't happen ta have sun leftovers, do ya? 'M headin' out fer a couple days 'n could use some extras." A little stunned by the sudden change in routine had you stammer a response neither of you could make out before you disappeared further into the back.
To your luck a fresh batch was just taken out of the oven, so you quickly grabbed a few buns and put them in a tea towel before moving back to the front.
"Here you go, fresh out of the oven." You smiled nervously as you held out the makeshift pouch, almost freezing as the calloused pads of his fingers brushed your skin while taking the bread from you.
With a charming as ever thanks he made his way out the door.
After the third time preparing the order for Daryl, who wasn't in town to come pick it up you were told to go take a day or two off, relax and go try and catch him come back home later during the day.
On your delivery routes and walks around the community you had caught wind of some kind of guard dog. You'd pick it up from time to time but today had been much more frequent.
You wondered what they meant. Maybe you'd ask Carol about it later.
The Kingdom was a nice place.
Each day there would be someone in the community's centre, playing some kind of instruments. Alone or in a group, it varied, but it was always nice to enjoy when you could.
You were enjoying it for so long you barely noticed the sun starting to set and Carol finding you. "Couldn't catch you at the bakery today, was told you were given the day off."
She came to sit beside you, enjoying the music and sharing a small snack she brought with you.
After a short while she got up, turning to you and offering a hand. "Come, we're gonna see something. If I have to believe the baker's words you're gonna love it."
Carol's words confused you, the thought of the baker casually talking about you with her wasn't really a happy one. Yet you followed her every step as she made her way to the front gates of the Kingdom.
"We're heading out? Without weapons or gear?" There was nothing around for you to see, confusion rising even more and edging on annoyance. Why wouldn't she just way where you were going?
You stood and watched as as she bounced on her heels with her arms behind her back. She was being all giddy about something and your mind could not come up with what on earth it could be.
Option after option ran through your mind until the guards spoke and the gates started to open.
Carol passed you a smile and raised her brows as she nudged her head towards the gate before turning back to watch.
You took a step closer to see what she was on about, and within the reach of your first step a figure came into view between the large gate doors.
"Holy shit." You stood frozen, much like those few days ago when Daryl suddenly asked for additions to his bakery order.
Despite the distance between the two of you and the low volume of your words, it looked like he heard you and gave you a smile and a small wave.
The scene before you became crazier by the second, on his shoulders a large deer that he carried without any visible strain but that wasn't all. Tied to his waist with a thick belt he lugged a tarp stacked with different hunted animals.
But something else felt off, beside the show of inhuman strength he seemed to possess.
Out from underneath his hair poked an ear, like it did sometimes before as well, although they seemed.. pointed?
His smile as well. You had seen the stubby pointed canines he had, but there were loads of people who had those slightly longer than average. Why did they look bigger now, accompanied with a similar set on his bottom teeth that surely weren't there before.
Also, was he fuzzier than normal? It was all hard to see in the dim light. It could just have been dirt stuck on his skin from being out in the woods so long. Surely he didn't bother cleaning up out there.
All the while Daryl dragged his game inside and stopped to report to Carol, glancing your way every so often as he could feel the energy radiating off you. He was enjoying the way you stared at him with confusion that slowly morphed into something he almost wanted to categorize as adoration.
It wasn't often Daryl got that look from anyone, so to say he was suddenly more intrigued by the baker woman was an understatement.
"Hey," Daryl's voice pulled you from your thoughts, staring at him without a single word running through your mind. "Wanna help unload all'a this at the butcher?"
A silent nod was all you managed as you followed him, hearing Carol say something but not entirely registering her words.
It was the next day when you saw him outside of his usual routine yet again, before the time of his usual pickup. The early summer sun was up when you made your rounds, and so was Daryl.
Across the street from the butcherâs place was a small area that used to be a childrenâs playground where you caught him doing pull-ups, flannel hanging open over his torso that you secretly expected to be way more toned, but instead you saw lightly furred soft flesh.
He hadnât noticed you as you moved past to the butcherâs doorstep where youâd leave her order, quietly mumbling to yourself as you stared at Daryl again. âLords, I want that man to fold me like a lawn chair..â You were so lost in the view of him pulling up his full weight with just one arm, his legs crossed under him, that you didnât hear the butcher arrive until she pat you on the shoulder. âI may not be into men, but even I can see the appeal of that old dog bending me over the nearest surface.â
The sudden contact made you squeak and jump away, only to be laughed at as you stumbled over your words before running along on your delivery route.
It was only a couple of seconds after you were out of earshot that Daryl appeared on the butcher's steps, shoulders shaking as he softly laughed at the interaction he heard all too well just a moment ago. "Yer horrible, ya know tha'?" He bumped her shoulder aa he walked past her, into the shop to start working on all the kills he brought back the day before.
The butcher let out a breath through her nose. "And you love me for it, mutt." Behind her she closed the door and flipped off the hunter, sticking out her tongue behind his back. "'Course I love ya, ya crazy knife wieldin' hag."
The rest of the day after running off at the butcher went fairly normal, Daryl picked up his order and you cleaned the place alone with the baker having to leave early for a meeting.
It was only when you closed up shop for the day that it got weird. Daryl stood outside, seemingly waiting with his arms crossed under short sleeves so tight you wondered how they hadn't cut off circulation yet.
Without missing a beat he pushed himself off the wall and stepped beside you. "C'mon. Wanna show ya som'n." His gruff voice could tell you to eat dirt and you'd do it so naturally you followed suit, walking around the community until you reached the homes placed at the far end, right at the forest wall.
You took in the beat up old truck with the hood popped and one wheel missing, and next to it inside the garage with the missing door a bike that looked like it was made over years of collecting parts. Was this his home?
You followed him inside the garage, the door in the back opening and leading into a small kitchen littered with tools and materials. The tea towel you gave him the bread in laid neatly folded on the corner of the messy table, not a single grease or oil covered item near it.
In the moment of distraction Daryl's hand landed on your hip as he scooted past you in the narrow space between the counter and the table, his crotch brushing your ass in the process.
He felt you become rigid at his touch and apologized. "Sorry, doll. Place ain't made fer two."
His hand remained in its place, squeezing as he apoligized making you want to just give in to your haunting daydreams and let him take you right then and there.
"So, what did you wanna show me again?" You were fidgeting, trying to calm your nerves with Daryl so close.
"S' upstairs. Sum ol' items ya can dig through. See if ya wan' sum." With a hand placed on your hip he led you upstairs, steering you around the corner and through one of the doors, ending with your knees pressed against a bed.
Before you had a chance to ask anything one of Daryl's hands came around your front, resting on your lower belly as the other one snuck around your chest. "How 'bout ya be a good girl fer me an' lemme fold ya like a lawn chair." His beard drug across your skin as he came to bite your earlobe. "Tha's what ya want, righ'? Got all hot 'n bothered when the butcher mentioned me bendin 'er over the counter.." with one hand sneaking under your waistband and the other softly squeezing your breast he had you whimpering.
"S'fine, righ'?" His hands stilled at your silence. "Words, doll. Ain' gon do anythin' unless ya give me an okay." His hands moved to cafefully turn you around to look you in the eye, but you quickly buried your face in his chest, hands against him as well and all your body wanted was to squeeze.
Squeeze your fingers into his plump, soft chest. Squeeze your thighs together for some desparately needed friction.
You softly nodded, murmuring something Daryl couldn't make out.
"Need ta hear ya." Daryl softly caressed your shoulder, moving to tilt your head up so you'd look at him.
Your eyes scanned his face, soft and gentle. Eyes glistening a bright blue between the thick, red scarred line that cut right through an eyebrow. Your eyes wandered to his lips, partially hidden by the grey scruff that occupied the lower half of his face as you breathed. "I want this."
With your eyes on his lips you saw his concerned look change into a wicked grin that showed his pointed canines.
In a split second after that you were thrown onto the bed and caged between Daryl's limbs, his face buried in your neck as he nipped and sucked at your skin.
"Go on." He whispered. "Take 'em off. I know ya wan' it." Daryl was on his way to the hem of your shirt already as you slowly worked your hands towards the buttons of of his flannel, undoing them with trembling fingers, focus drifting away with every drag of his teeth across your flesh.
With some assistance your top halves were soon bare. Daryl's hands on your soft chest, tongue all over them as he sucked bruises to the underside.
Your fingers found his hair, pulling at the strands in pleasure as the others traced every scar on Daryl's body. From the small puncture wounds to the large gashes on his back, you caressed each one of them.
Letting out short, panted breaths your body burned wherever Daryl's fingers trailed, the rough pads leaving a path of tingling flesh from your chest down to your side, his tongue following down your body between where his hands had gone.
With the descent of his body his scarred frame moved out of reach, placing both hands in his hair and tugging as his teeth dug into your skin, earning a growl that sounded from deep in his chest.
With newfound interest you pulled again, your nails scratching his scalp in the process as your hips rolled up against his torso.
The low, scratchy moan that left him rumbled against your hip and had him quickly slide his hands down your hips. With no effort you felt your hips rise as two strong hands grabbed your ass and fabric slide off your body. Both your loose trousers and panties were shoved down the rounds of your hips as they lifted off the bed, the fabric pulled off your legs before your knees ended on both sides of your chest and Daryl's teeth were back just below your bellybutton where the meat of your folded torso met in perfect, bite-sized rolls.
You watched him litter your stomach in marks, clamping his jaw onto your thighs to color your skin in where only he could admire them.
"Daryl, please.."
Your voice had him lock eyes with you from where he sat between your legs and watched your pleading gaze with a soft nod before leaning back down and licking a broad stripe over the back of your thigh, moving to delve his tongue right into your centre.
Your moans of his name added fuel to the already raging fire, parting your lips with his tongue and drinking up all of your sweetness. With each stroke against your clit your walls clenched around nothing, muscles tensing but your body laying unmoved under Daryl's strong grip.
You squirm, hands finding his on your thighs as you whine and mewl, signaling you being close to finishing.
"Such pretty sounds, all fer me.." Daryl speaks against your clit before wrapping his lips around it once more and teasing you, making you hold back your own thigh so his fingers could join his mouth, stuffing two down your entrance with ease as he kept licking and sucking in tandem with the curls of his digits.
Your sounds increase in volume with Daryl's ministrations, crying out at your peak, clenching your walls tightly around his fingers as you finished.
"'Ere, lemme stretch those legs fer ya." With gentle hands he laid your legs flat against the bed on either side of him, allowing the blood flow to return while you came down from your high.
You watched him with hazy eyes, on his knees between your legs tugging at the button and zipper of his black jeans. Beneath the oh so inviting trail of dark hair he lowered the layers still on him to reveal his thick, hard cock.
Your view was close to perfection, a gorgeous old man between your spread legs. The lines of his body like rings on a tree, showing signs of age and survival. From the scar at his collarbone, at the edge of the soft dusting of chest hair down to his thick strong legs he was removing his clothes from he was like a piece of art for you to admire as you desired.
And gods, you desired him.
"Ya look like ya wanna eat me alive." He looked down at you, one hand running through his hair while the other slowly stroked his cock.
You licking your lips as you stared at his impressive length was all he needed to ler himself fall forward and catch himself right before he'd make contact with you, calmly catching your lips in a deep kiss. With your tongue against his lips you asked for more and he obliged almost immediately, parting his lips and swiping his tongue against yours, lips moulding together in percect harmony until you desperately needed air.
Your hand lingered on the side of his head, thumb caressing the scar around his eye.
"What's the story on this one?" Daryl couldn't get enough of that look on your face. The one filled with curiosity, not a speck of fear or disgust on you.
"Old girlfrien' decided she didn' like me no more." He averted your gaze as he remembered the fight in the cabin back then, and the serrated edge of the knife catching the skin of his face. He deliberately left out the terms his then lover called him as she chased him out the door with a shotgun. That was a tale for another time.
Right now all he wanted was to ravish the woman underneath him.
The setting sun caught his eyes and for a fraction of a second they seemed to glow, icy blue in a sea of black. When they looked back at you it was gone, a pair of normal blue eyes looking at you.
He shook off the memories and brought his focus back to the now, to you underneath him, the scent of your arousal, and his painfully hard cock.
Daryl adjusted his position, his length rubbing your folds in the process earning a soft moan from you.
"Gonna make more o'them pretty noises fer me, doll?" His hand reached for his member and rubbed the tip between your folds, spreading your wetness around, listening to your soft mutters of "yes" and "please".
Daryl needed no more convincing, nuzzling your noses together before kissing you deeply as he slowly inches himself inside of you. The initial stretch hurt and you couldn't help but groan into the kiss at how big he was. His cock was way girthier than just two fingers, and it had been years since your last time before this.
Daryl's hand moved down your body, slowly rubbing your clit to distract from the stretch. His kisses deepened, your tongue sliding past his teeth, feeling around his fangs with fascination.
A soft whimper sounded from you as he bottomed out, making him halt a moment to let you adjust. "Ya tell me when yer good, 'kay?"
You nodded and answered a soft "uhuh." and a bit later, after a few experimental squeezes you told him you were good.
With his hand still on your hip Daryl carefully pulled back and slid inside at a slow and steady pace, letting you get used to him for a few thrusts until your heels came up to dig in his rear.
"Hmhm, eager are we?" Daryl grinned against your neck, taking the hint and quickening his pace. His hands had your hips in a bruising grasp, his hips snapping against yours earning soft gasps on each impact.
"H.. hah.. ah Daryl fuck--" you were a beautiful piece beneath him, with your head thrown to the side, arm covering your eyes and chest heaving and shaking with each thrust.
"So good, doll. So pretty for me." Daryl was huffing out a laugh, moving his hands off your hips to grab at your lower legs. Deep, short thrusts continued as he moved your legs from around him back to up beside your torso, knees pressed against your shoulders as he fucked into you with your ass up off the matress.
He was so deep all of a sudden it had you see stars, crying out his name aa your orgasm crashed down on you.
You were sweating all over, breaths deep to get enough air and body heavy. With your eyes closed you laid still, getting the air back into your lungs as Daryl teased you by softly rutting into your overly sensitive cunt.
"Don' tell me yer tired already, I haven't even finished yet.." His thrusts changed angles and now brushed your clit, having you mewl out pleas he chose to ignore. "Tha's more like it, music, those sounds o' yers." His thrusts continued, as did your pleas. You didn't even know what you were begging for but the knot in your belly was quickly returning in time with his thrusts getting sloppier, not long after crying out again as you came a few thrusts before je did too.
There were tears rolling down your face, laying limp on the bed. Daryl's hands had let go of your legs again, letting you stretch them for thr short moment before he was fully hard again.
Unexpectedly Daryl flipped you onto your stomach and moving your hips around to his preference.
"Time fer round two?" He wached you nod wit your face in the pillows, moving to slowly press inside you once more and bending down to press soft kisses to your back. Your mind went back to being hazy a few thrusts in with how good his cock felt at this new angle fist gripping at the pillows beneath you that muffled your moans.
His hands were all over your backside, kneading every soft surface he could reach as he continued his steady pace.
Your sounds were like music to his ears, wishing to hear them every night, over and over again until your throat was so soar he had to bring you medicine and nurse you back to health. Your curiosity was already enough to make him want you, never having anyone radiate such a type of energy towards him and it has him hooked. But having you here like this now had him almost addicted, wanting to keep you, claim you but he knew he didn't have the right to do so. He didn't deserve it, for he was sort of still lying to you about large aspects of his life.
But if he could make you feel this good now in this moment, that was all he cared about.
He fucked you from behind until you came once, twice and then moved you onto your side, holding onto one of your legs against his chest as je continued rutting into you, earning two more orgasms from you right before finishing himself for the second time.
As he came down from his high he stared at you, passed out and asleep beneath him. Ever so carefully he moved you so he could lay down as well, pulling you against his chest as he settled to drift off too.
It was morning by the time you woke up, groaning in pain as your legs resisted being moved off the bed. You blinked the sleep from your eyes and shot up off the bed. "Ah, god damn oww.." Your ass hit the matress again, the crunchy layer of dried fluids scratching your thighs.
"Oh for fuck's sake I'm gonna be late!" You stumbled around the place searching for the shower to scrub yourself clean, picking up your shirt off the floor and sniffing it. "Nope, can't wear that. Shit!" You found the bathroom and were vigorously scrubbing your legs and quickly back to digging through all of Daryl's drawers in a panic, trying to find something decent to wear.
"Ya know ya can just ask, right?" You didn't even register what he said and grumbled back at him. "I don't have time, okay? I'm already gonna be late for work and I got nothing to wear because my own clothes stink so I'm gonna have to run home first and be even later."
Face down in a drawer your attention was pulled by a short whistle, and the second you were up and turned towards the noise an entire outfit found your face.
Underwear, socks, simple sweats and a flanel.
"Why do you have a stash of women's clothes?" You were genuinely curious but that didn't stop you from struggling to put on the clothes with your entire body aching. "I don't even know how I'm gonna walk my rounds. Everything hurts.."
You were already dreading today and it had barely even started.
"Need me ta make yer rounds? Got time so I don' mind." Daryl was following you down the stairs now, hands ready to catch you as you stumbled, not wanting you to fall.down the stairs on your wobbly legs.
"No way I'm letting you do my rounds. I don't want the whole community on my neck tomorrow about why I sent you." You were halfway out the door already, walking as fast as possible and waving Daryl off on your not so fast way to work.
You arrived late and got told off for it, but the baker quickly changed his demeanor once he saw you limp. He gave you a quick rundown of what he had planned to do at the bakery and let you stay in as he took over your rounds, which you were very thankful for.
The front door bell rang and Carol appeared, a while after Daryl had dropped by for his usual, and bringing in a bag with your clothes.
"Hey, didn't see you this morning." Carol was as cheery as ever, her hair braided and her smile kind and motherly.
"Yeah," you leaned against the counter, wincing as you moved your weight. "Hurt my leg yesterday, so I'm in here thr whole day now." You tried to shrug it off, not feeling like coming up with a decent enough lie. Not that you needed one anyways.
"Which clearly has nothing to do with you spending the night at Daryl's place?" A knowing smile spread on her face as she looked you up and down, arms crossed over her chest, laughing as she watched your eyes about to pop out of your head in response. "You're wearing my emergency clothes. Looks like we have about the same size."
You felt blessed with today being a quiet day and could clean while you chatted with Carol and closed up shop after, with the baker off again while you ran the bakery.
"There's something wrong with that man." You sighed as you bent down to lock up the garage door, groaning as you came back up. "He's like, what? Almost sixty? And he still held out longer than me. I swear I passed out once before he was done."
Carol was giggling all the way with your bags in her hand. "He's fifty-four, but alright."
"Yeah, okay. That fifty-four year old would have kept going if I hadn't clocked out after lord knows how ma--"
"Five, doll." Daryl's voice suddenly behind you had you jump up and almost fall if it wasn't for his quick response to steady you.
"How the hell are you fine?" Your question was directed at Daryl, but your eyes were on Carol who was having the time of her life seeing you be so confused about her best friend's energy levels.
"There's a lot about Daryl you don't know yet, dear." She winked at her friend, who only grunted in response.
"Oh really? When are you planning on telling me all about yourself? Do I need to cook you a romantic dinner?" Your words came out with way too much excitement, letting out how eager you were to learn about Daryl.
"Ya'll learn eventually. No need ta rush things, righ'?" His voice kept cool, but Carol read his body language like a book and quickly saw he needed help to cross that line. Him scratching the side of his fingers, and obsessively wiping the hair out of his face, eyes looking everywhere but at you. They were all tells, and Carol felt bad for him.
"Why don't you two stay over for dinner? Ezekiel won't make it home in time so I'd be all alone otherwise." Carol quickly set up a plan, making it all seem like coincidence but in her mind she had all the steps figured out already.
"I'd love to stay over, but only if it's not too much effort." Peeking past Daryl you saw her wave your assumption off and assure it was fine.
And thus you three ended up around Carol's nice dinner table in the King's home.
Somehow you expected it to be fancy and pristine, but that would never happen with how selfless the King was.
The food was nice and Carol had gifted you some stronger painkillers she had laying around to ease your body, you all just chatted about your day, and you thought your subtle questions about him were going okay, until Daryl excused himself to go smoke what seemed in a hurry.
"It's okay honey, Daryl has a hard time opening up to people. He needs to find the right moments to talk." Carol gave you a loving shoulder squeeze and pointed you towards the back door where Daryl had just left through.
"He loves the forest, he feels safe there." With a wink she sent you off.
You carefully approached him and settled in the doorframe. "Hey," Your voice was soft as to not startle him. "Wanna go for a walk? Outside the walls."
With a nod he got up and offered you his hand to take, and with a sigh he let a smile come through. "Carol really set us up, didn't she?"
You laughed along with him and decided then you wouldn't push him, and let him talk at his pace.
With your gear gathered the two of you found yourselves walking along the tree line in silence.
"M' sorry." Daryl kept his eyes on the ground where he walked, but with his pinkie he touched yours and hooked them together.
"When Carol brought ya to welcome me back after the huntin' I was confused. But when I felt yer curious stares instead of gettin' negative 'n scared I got.." He fell quiet, his hand pulling away from yours but you quickly grabbed it fully, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles.
But you stayed quiet, and just walked with his hand in yours.
After a long stretch of only hearing the ground crunch under your shoes Daryl stopped.
"S'where I stay when I go out each month." You stood a few feet away from a rock wall, overgrown with green and a small clearing in it. Looking around you there was no way of being seen here from any angle.
You also saw trees with torn off branches and what looked like deep claw marks. "Should'a shown ya 'fore last night."
You looked over at him and made sure he saw you smile. "You really think anything would have changed my mind?" Your hands came up to his face to hold his gaze on you, hoping he'd see the truth in your eyes.
"I know yer not lyin'. Ya haven't lied since we started talkin'." His hand moved to touch the small of your back, the other one gesturing at the overgrown wall. "C'mon."
Daryl had his knife ready as he moved past some hanging vines with your hand in his to keep you close.
The area was void of any dead, except for the picked clean bones covering the ground.
And the seemingly random pile of fabrics and signs of humans staying here.
He let go of your hand and let you wander around, staring at every little thing.
You kneeled down off to the side, getting up to move some vines to let in more light before walking back.
"You stay here?" Your fingers traced the print in the sand, glancing over at Daryl who was slowly stepping closer with calculated steps, like a true huntsman would to not startle an animal.
Quietly he leaned down next to you, and without saying a word moved his hand to the print in the loose sand.
The world went blurry around Daryl's hand as you watched it change. Muscles under the skin warping to reshape as flesh darkened and nails grew, and then fit perfectly into the indentation.
Daryl was hyper aware of everything around him, senses almost overwhelming him as he felt the worms crawl under the earth and heard the birds fly over outside. But even with his senses running on overdrive he couldn't find a single negative feeling coming off you.
You stared at his hand, now more a claw and it felt like everything suddenly made sense.
His strength, the way he heard things from so far off, his way of using terms that didn't make sense and that strange glow in his eyes.
Daryl's mind kept showing you running away, crying as he got closer each time.
Instead, there in the small cave like structure he called home once a month, you reached out your hand and placed it on top of his changed one.
"I don't regret being curious." Your shoulder rested against his, slowly easing into more contact. "And I'm still happy I went home with you, and came here to see this. To see you." Your weight was now entirely resting against his side, and for the first time since he sat down he dared to look at you.
You, who laid comfortably against his side.
"I'm honestly kinda glad you showed me this." You watched Daryl raise his brows at your words. "Suddenly your strange but interesting things make sense. Kinda obvious for someone to be so strong, or have glowy eyes when they're not human."
Your hand gave his a comfortable squeeze. "I hope you'll show me all of this you one day." With a finger pressed to his knuckles you moved your head to kiss his cheek.
"Close yer eyes fer a minute." Daryl moved to stand after he kissed your head, moving behind you.
Noises filled the air. Clothes being undone and landing on the floor.
And then cracking. Tearing and groaning. Coughing and growling, a thud that acompanied a shove against your backside that almost made you turn around, but je asked not to, and you were going to respect his wish.
Once the noises died down and all you heard was deep breathing you opened your eyes again, staring straight forward as you waited. Waited for something to signal it was okay to turn.
That something was a press against your shoulder, a press and a huff of air against your exposed neck.
From the edge of your vision a nose peeked, making you turn and stare right into his scarred eye.
"Wow." It caught you off guard and you stubled backwards just a small bit, staring and laughing at yourself for falling on your ass. "Okay. Big guy. That's ..wow."
You followed his movements as he walked into your view. And you recognised him. All ofrhe features that made Daryl look like himself changed along with him, from the dark, shaggy mane to the scar and beard. Even his tattoos were spots of darker fur, especially clear on the lighter areas.
But, still..
"Wait. So Carol knows about," you wildly gestured at his entire self. "you know, this. She's seen you? And what about the butcher? That comment of hers, she knew."
You gasped in realisation. "You were testing me! You could hear us, you were there on purpose oh my god."
Daryl only sat and listened to your rambling. If anyone had asked him how he envisioned this scene to go, he would have never guessed this to be the way. Not that he was complaining or anything, he liked this.
He liked you, and you liked him too, even in this shape.
With a tap to your hand and his paw covering his eyes he asked you to look away once more, changing back to his human self and getting dressed before coming to press a kiss to your temple. "So, ya sure this's all fine?"
You stood up to join him at eye level. "You're either the most dense man ever, or are still convinced you don't deserve love just because you're different." Your deadpan look spoke more than needed.
"Yeah, alrigh'. Sorry." He shook his head in apology.
"You literally just turned into a goddamn werewolf." You paused. "Wait. That is correct, right? You're a werewolf? I mean, I don't wanna assume and be wrong, or offensive.."
He kept his head low but nodded, telling you were correct in your observations.
You stepped into his space and peppered his face with kisses, grabbing his hands to fake a sense of chaining him to you and it worked. He let himself melt into you and accept your affection.
Your love.
"Let's go home?"
With a nod he stepped back go retrieve your items. "Yeah. Home's good."
The walk home was silent, only sporadic and very random questions with short and simple answers.
Only when he dropped you off at home he spoke full sentences again. "I wan' ya t'move in with me."
You shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, okay. But we gotta clean the place first."
With a nod he agreed and let you go for the day. Only a week later moving the last of your items into his home after strategically cleaning and rearranging his home to accomodate two people.
That night, in bed all cuddled up together after a shower, Daryl pressed his lips against your jaw and uttered three simple words.
"I love ya."
A/N: Okay yeah damn that became way longer than I originally planned. But it wad fun! Hope you enjoyed it~
#sometimes i write#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl smut#daryl x reader#twd#twd daryl#twd x reader#the walking dead#twd smut#twd au#werewolves#werewolf
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Stay A While (5)
Summary: Terry and Patrice enjoy each other with the promise of bright future.
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC
Word Count: 4.9k
Part: 5 of 5
Warnings: Smut (18+), NSFW
A/N: Thanks so much for joining me on this ride. I hope the journey turns out to be worth it.
Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four.
âUh, my name is Terry, Iâm from North Carolina, and I wanna dedicate this one to my lady over there in the orange dress. You look good, girl.âÂ
âOh no.â
âSing your song, baby!â
A mix of encouragement and admiration at Terryâs public display of affection rang out in a poorly lit karaoke bar in the French Quarter. Liquor, good food, and good people were the perfect mix for a good time with the vestiges of Summer break rapidly slipping away. Terry stood on stage with a goofy grin and low eyes, pointing everyone toward his favorite audience member.Â
Patrice had never been so embarrassed in her life. When sheâd dared him to do something crazy on the last night of their spontaneous vacation, she thought heâd finally get that tattoo of her name on his ribs like he promised way back when. Singing in front of a crowd of rowdy strangers wasnât on her bingo card.
Her hands covered her mouth to muffle her near-uncontrollable laughter.Â
Terry couldnât sing. At least not well enough to give a tipsy rendition of Patriceâs favorite Usher record. She still remembered forcing Terry to listen to Raymond v. Raymond over and over again in her cramped bedroom, many times not getting past Track 3 without gushing over how she hoped to marry the R&B heartthrob one day. Terry secretly carried a deep disdain for Usher up until his mid-20s, but couldnât dodge the memories any time âThere Goes My Babyâ would play and take him right back to that cramped bedroom with his dream girl.Â
He started just as Patrice expected. Though he knew the words like the back of his hand, his pitchy tenor was a far cry from the vocals needed to properly serenade an audience. He didnât care though. As long as he could pull a belly laugh from Patrice heâd make a fool of himself in public every time.Â
Between the second verse and bridge, Terry decided to take his antics up a notch. He abandoned the stage to make a beeline for Patrice with the mic in hand for a personal show. She was sure to play into the bit with playful hoops and fake screams between giggles. When he was close enough to touch, she pretended to fangirl like she was front row at one of Usherâs Vegas shows.Â
âBaby, lovinâ you feels better than everything, anything. Put it on my heart, you gonâ get a ring,â he sang, spontaneously remixing the lyrics so far off-key that, if not for the levity of the ordeal, heâd surely offend every music lover in a 50-mile radius. âAnd I promise, our time away didnât change my love.âÂ
Completely enamored with the absurdity of the moment, Patrice ran her fingertips across Terryâs abdomen underneath his shirt like a crazed fan and winked. Terry acknowledged the dangerous line she was toeing by flashing her a flirtatious grin to match the seductive sparkle in his eyes.Â
Their connection overrode Terryâs awful singing performance enough for the crowd to show support through an assortment of cheers and supportive hollers only a city full of spirited Black people could provide.Â
Always the perfect gentleman, Terry bid Patrice farewell for a moment with a peck on the cheek before returning to the stage to cap a truly unexpected performance and receive thunderous applause.Â
âOooo-weee. Thatâs your man, love? Iâm talking official official?â The middle-aged touristâs question and her thick accent interrupted Patriceâs daydreaming while she watched Terryâs every move with part of her bottom lip caught by her top row of teeth.Â
âYeah,â she answered, finally tearing her gaze away to acknowledge the woman while fiddling with the opal necklace heâd gifted her at dinner. It was the necklace symbolizing their first real date and the end of their friends only arrangement. âThatâs him. Ainât he somethinâ?âÂ
âSomethinâ ainât the word. I might need to head on up to North Carolina and get me one of them. My God today!âÂ
âHeâs got a cute little single friend out in Percyville if you down with our Asian brothers. Former Marine too.âÂ
âYou got a picture?âÂ
The two women fell into conversation about Kenâs availability while Patrice waited for Terry to rejoin her side. He soon returned with two shots of tequila in hand and a smile fighting to be freed from behind his poker face.Â
âWhat was that about,â he asked, nodding at the woman whoâd begun to show her friends photos of her potential beau as he placed a shot in front of Patrice.
âMightâve gotten Ken somebody to take him out of the streets. You know he like âem thick and fine.âÂ
âI taught my boy a few things.â He used the hand closest to Patrice to breach the split in her dress and grip her inner thigh. He maintained contact, waiting for her to get shy and shoo him away.Â
But she didnât. She met his show of dominance with one of her own and crossed her legs to keep him in place, keeping him close to the pulse at her center. Two could play the secret foreplay game.
âWhatâs that about,â she asked, pointing at his gift of top-shelf reposado and ignoring the flutter in her stomach once he began rubbing slow circles on the top of her thigh with his thumb.
He smirked. âA little something to toast with.âÂ
âOooh. Whatâre we celebrating?âÂ
âBeing free, being together, andâŠâ He lifted his shot glass, prompting Patrice to follow suit.Â
âAnd what, TJ! Câmon!âÂ
âAndâŠI got the job.â He followed his surprise by taking his shot, finishing with a quiet laugh while watching Patrice sit in unblinking shock. He squeezed her thigh again. âDonât let me drink alone now. Bottoms up.âÂ
Shock gave way to a soft squeal and tiny, animated hand claps before Patrice took her gulp of tequila. Excitement had her rushing to swallow so that she could pull Terry into a series of quick kisses across his face.Â
âIâm proud of you,â she complimented against his lips. âTell me about it.âÂ
She stole another kiss to taste the remnants of buffalo sauce and alcohol on Terryâs tongue. He let her explore uninhibited until sheâd had enough. If she wanted to put on a show, heâd be a willing participant. Even more so in the privacy of the Airbnb that belonged them to until sunrise.
The sexual tension had reached a tipping point and the clock was ticking. Images of her body beneath his were starting to be the only thoughts Terry could concoct.
Terryâs face was completely flushed, usually even caramel skin now red from lust and one too many drinks. A slow, tipsy grin put all his teeth on display before he ran his tongue across his bottom lip.Â
âWe can talk about that later. Can we get out of here right now, though.âÂ
âYeah? Why?âÂ
Patrice assumed they were having a good time with at least one more stop on their self-guided nightlife tour. His eagerness to abandon plans was uncharacteristic.Â
Terry continued to smile then leaned forward to whisper in her ear. âI really wanna make you cum tonight. You been waiting too long.â
A shiver hit Patriceâs spine as she tried to maintain some level of composure in a room full of people. Terry easily pushed her thighs open to free his hand, being sure to brush against her lower lips with the tips of his fingers.Â
Terry didnât need to speak when he stood to pull her chair back from the table. Patrice allowed him to tug her to her feet and out of the bar, waving goodbye to her new friend who gave her a congratulatory thumbs up.Â
However, any morsel of confidence she had while they made out like teenagers in the backseat of a taxi had waned once they reached their dwelling for the night and the reality of their situation set in.Â
Their first time together was her first time. She was young with too many influences in her ear telling her that the only way to make a man love her was through her body. No matter how many times Terry assured her that they could spend that truly imporable hour of alone time in her hotel room catching up, she insisted that they test the boundaries of their affection.Â
Now, with history repeating itself, she couldnât help but feel a deep pit of nervousness and uncertainty growing in her belly.Â
Patrice stood in the bathroom mirror, tussling with her hair that had gone from pressed roots to a mess of frizz and curled ends. She suddenly hated the way her cotton slip dress fit and how the lace bra and panty set seemed to bunch in all the wrong places. The only thing she wanted to do was look like the woman of his dreams, but her confidence was waning with every second she spent judging her appearance while Terry waited patiently in the bedroom. Frustration was building and bringing the sting of fresh tears to her eyes.
On the other side of the door, Terry spent his time adjusting and readjusting the pillows on the bed. His bare back and shoulders glistened under the soft, warm light emanating from the floor lamp across the room, partially from the heat, but mostly from sheer nervousness.Â
âWhat the fuck are you doing,â he whispered to himself, suddenly embarrassed.Â
Terry forced himself to take a seat at the edge of the bed to calm his nerves. The last time heâd been on the brink of having her in this way, he was a young man with no clue how to love a woman. Now, all he wanted to do was prove that heâd earn every morsel of her trust back if she let him.Â
He never told Patrice that their first time was his first time. He was scared out of his mind, wanting to give in to his fantasies but afraid to send the wrong impression. The memory of that summer afternoon never left him. But, it was time to start anew with a title and the promise of a different result on the horizon.
Taking a deep breath, Terry wiped his sweaty palms against the soft fabric of his briefs and sighed.Â
âYou okay in there,â he called out, concerned as the minutes ticked by with no communication. âI donât wanna rush you. Just checking in. Tell me to leave you alone if Iâm doing too much.âÂ
âIâm okay. One second. Iâm fixinâ my hair.â
âTake your time. Iâm sure you lookâŠâ
The soft sound of the door opening stopped Terry mid-sentence. Patrice stepped out, one foot in front of the other, until she was past the threshold and under his doting gaze.Â
â...gorgeous,â he finished, the word coming out in one breath. âYou are absolutely gorgeous, Treece.âÂ
Patrice had decided on a bun on top of her head with tendrils in the front and back that couldnât quite reach the rest of her hair. Sheâd traded her light makeup for a bare face still glowing from her nighttime skin routine. Her slip dress clung and dipped in all the right places without the lace from her lingerie interrupting the smooth fabric. She looked at him through long lashes, her expression reading as the same timid girl from all those years ago.
Terry stood to his full height in reverence of her breathtaking form. The most skilled artists and creators from around the world couldnât have dreamt of a more captivating marvel in his opinion. She was the pinnacle of beauty.Â
Patrice watched him draw closer, her head slowly tilting up as he began to dwarf her with his stature. He reached out to trace her jaw before lightly gripping her chin between his thumb and pointer finger.Â
âHey.âÂ
âHey, yourself.â
Goofy smiles and giggles followed their awkward introduction to ease the anxious energy in the room.
âIs Terrence James Richmond nervous behind little olâ me,â she teased with a tickle to his sides.Â
âI got a few butterflies, Iâm not gonâ lie,â he laughed. âJust wanna make you happy, is all.âÂ
âI was gonna say the same to you.âÂ
âYou have no idea how happy you make me.âÂ
His voice came in just above a whisper, nearly drowned out by the chirping of crickets outside.Â
Their noses brushed against each other as Patrice stood on her tip-toes to rest her arms around his neck. Her fingers traced circles at his nape, making the hair all over his body stand at attention.Â
A tentative peck connected their lips and gave way to more needy, hungry kisses that transformed them into eager teenagers making out for the thrill of physical contact.Â
Euphoria wasnât enough to explain Terryâs headspace. He was high off every kiss, lick, and bite Patrice allowed. He couldnât get close enough. It wasnât sufficient to pull her closer with a firm grasp on her ass. He needed to taste her, to be consumed by her, to consume her in every way possible.Â
âPut me to work. Tell me what you need,â he whispered, breathless as blood began to rush south from the slight pain of Patriceâs fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.Â
âYou. Fold me, bend me, flip me, I donât care. I just need you.âÂ
Patrice was far beyond playing coy. Sheâd drop to her knees and beg at his feet if he asked. Whatever she had to do to feel him from the inside was on the table.Â
Terry didnât make Patrice go to extremes for his affection. He preferred to acknowledge her request by carefully sliding the straps of her dress down her shoulders and arms.Â
He watched her skin become more and more exposed with intense focus, taking note of the way her nipples seemed to salute him once they met the bedroom air. He acknowledged both of them with a soft caress that earned a whimper from Patrice as she watched him handle her with care.
Never in her life had been methodically unwrapped like a present on Christmas morning. Her heartbeat had gone below her waist, throbbing in an almost painful cry for her loverâs attention. Terry kept her yearning at bay with a slow kiss while he pushed her garment past her hips and to the floor.Â
Patrice disrobed him with an equal measure of care, offering quick kisses across the expanse of his chest while she slid her hand past his Calvin Klein waistband. Round, doe eyes looked back up at him to catch the precise moment when Terryâs eyelids blinked closed from the sensation of her fingertips brushing past his sensitive tip.Â
Her soft palms worked his shaft - up and down, up and down - until his member was proud and bobbing from the weight of itself without something keeping it at bay.Â
Fearing what might happen if he let her continue, Terry pulled her back to his body for sensual openmouthed kisses on her full lips. The soft smack of their lips and tongues created perfect harmonies in the still room, communicating more desire than either of them could effectively vocalize.Â
The intensity began to rise at exponential rates, sending them in a clumsy frenzy to the bed for somewhere stable to fully experience one another. Terryâs back hit the cool cotton sheets first with Patrice collapsing on top with a surprised yelp that made them both laugh.
âDonât fight it,â Terry instructed, pushing a stray piece of hair from her face while he stared up at her lovingly. âLet go. I got you.â
His reassurance made her heart do a backflip on the way to its new home between her legs. She needed him in the worst way.
Terry leaned up to kiss her lips once, twice, and once more to linger. His fingertips traced a blazing path from her waist to the bottom of her ass to partially push her forward in a silent plea to kiss her where he missed her most.Â
âLet me taste you. Is that okay?âÂ
Something about the way he asked for permission with eyes those stormy eyes robbed Patrice of her ability to respond with words. He prompted her to move forward again with a soft tap on her backside, finally convincing her to lift her hips and scoot toward his face.Â
Cautiously, she hovered above his mouth with thick thighs flanking either side of his head.Â
He moved slow with sweet kisses and lazy licks to mix spit with her wetness in a one-sided love song to his favorite girl. He was effortlessly sexy, combining broad strokes of his tongue between her lips with expertly timed sucks at her clit to elicit filthy words that fueled his best oral performance yet.
He ignored every plea for mercy and her cries for a break to compose herself. There was only one objective. Two if he were lucky to push her into a water show for the ages.Â
Animalistic instinct had them trading moans in time with each other, fully in throws of passion. Every grind against his nose and call of his name made Terry want to show her the full extent of his skill.Â
His face glistened beneath her with his eyes still low but open enough to get the full visual of her undoing.
âTerry, that is - ohâŠshit.âÂ
Full sentences became senseless babble as she clamped her eyes shut to brace for that familiar feeling pooling in the pit of her belly. Patrice struggled to maintain focus on herself while Terry enjoyed his new favorite meal.Â
The velvety smoothness of his tongue took broad passes from her entrance to her clit, stopping every so often to chase wetness that had escaped to her thighs. He wanted every drop and then some.Â
His moans and groans as he feasted vibrated against her most sensitive spots, turning her mind into television static. Seeing her unravel with every soft suckle at her clit and agonizingly slow, broad lick across her swollen lips drove him to near-obsessive levels of lust.Â
Her chest heaved in a fight to keep her heart rate level as his efforts to make her cum for the first time became more targeted.Â
âFuck, babyâ she moaned, finally taking a look down to watch the master in his element. âLook at you. You gonâ make me cum, huh?â
Terry seemed to smile at her admiration. If he could get her to talk back, her eventual undoing when all was said and done would be that much more satisfying.Â
Taking her challenge, he began to push her to her limit. She was putty in his mouth as he brought her closer and closer to the edge, soft sucking turning into a talented tongue making moans devolve into nonsensical utterings until she was squirming for release while his arms kept her locked in place for a wild ride.
Almost there. Almost there. Then a brief pause to start from the top. More lazy passes and passionate kisses to rev her up to the point of delirium and practically screaming to finish.Â
Just when she thought she may have to threaten him on the third revolution of his torture, he delivered on his promise from the bar.Â
Colors emitted smells. Sounds became vivid pictures across her eyes. She could taste the stars as she erupted in a way sheâd never done before. The prickle of his facial hair on sensitive skin felt like shockwaves on her skin.Â
âOh fuuuuck! Yesyesyes!âÂ
Her hips jerked without her permission, taking Terryâs face on the ride of his life. He kept up through it all with no objections. If death came from her thighs cutting him off from the oxygen needed to breathe heâd wear death like a badge of honor in the afterlife.
Another string of expletives fell from her lips in tandem with Terryâs muffled groan as she gripped the sheets below her for dear life. This was Heaven. She was sure of it.Â
Terry took one last deep inhale with his nose pressed against her pussy before kissing along the warm skin of Patriceâs inner thigh while she came down. She caressed what she could reach of his head in appreciation and beckoned him to release his suction on her pussy.Â
She rushed to get back to his lips to taste herself on his mouth and he welcomed her with open arms.Â
Kissing. Grinding. Skin-to-skin friction. None of it was enough for Terry. He desperately needed to be inside her to satisfy the near-painful stiffness he was experiencing.Â
His attempt to flip Patrice on her back was futile once she pressed her weight into his legs to keep him in place. He roughly nipped at her shoulder before trying again with the same result.Â
âCâmon,â he pleaded, almost begging for the go-ahead to fill her to the hilt in one smooth motion.
Still, she denied him pleasure. Patrice shifted to straddle his waist, slowly dragging her hands up and down his torso while his stomach clenched from the warmth of her core on his body.Â
âLay back,â she breathed out, partially lifting her hips to reposition herself on top of his length. He hissed at the sensation of her gingerly dragging her wet, warm entrance against his shaft. âIâmma handle this one. Relax, baby.âÂ
If there was a thought to be had, Terry couldnât piece it together to save his life once Patrice completely enveloped him inside her slick walls. His jaw tightened then fell slack once she began to work her magic. A slow bounce and grind combination in his lap kept her breast rolling in a lewd show with Terry as the lucky winner of a front row ticket.Â
Patrice kept her head thrown back like a cowgirl, feeling perspiration gather on her forehead while he gave him all she had. His hands giving her firm smacks on the hip and ass acted as a round of applause each time she buried him deep and pulled back up with expert precision.Â
Her right hand slid from its spot on his chest to his throat for a barely there squeeze just as a quiet gasp made her aware of another incoming orgasm.Â
The feel of her thumb gripping his esophagus made Terry expel a sound that he wasnât aware he could make, somewhere between a whimper and a growl awakening each of his senses.Â
The sight brought him the beautiful visual of her eyes shut tightly in concentration while she glowed like a heavenly body from the lampâs light. Her hair had slipped out of its bun, leaving a lionâs mane of coils to toss wildly in the wind.Â
Smell brought with it the earthy scent of sweat and the lingering musk of her pussy. A smell that could awaken a deep longing in him in even the direst circumstances. If he could bottle it and wear it as fragrance, heâd do so proudly just to have her with him at all times.
Hearing pulled in the sound of their skin slapping together in time with the intermingling moans in the room. Heâd never been so loud before, so unabashedly in the moment with another woman. He cursed, called her name, and praised her with equal ferocity.Â
Touch was satisfied by the handful of ass he used to ease the stress on her thighs while she bucked wilder than ever before.Â
Something akin to a growl erupted from his throat as he strained to hold back release. âYou doing so good for me, baby. You know I love you right?âÂ
âYes!â she cried out, hips starting to sputter out of control with Terry gently stretching her on every stroke.Â
He wrapped his arms around her waist tighter as he fucked into her in search of their shared release. She sagged forward for the ride, her brain turning into mush while her mouth hung open with no sounds.
âGood.â His voice came through clenched teeth. âBecause Iâm about to fuck you like I donât.âÂ
She put up no resistance as he paused his pounding to flip her onto her back with a dancer's grace. Having her laid out beneath him, body open, leaking, and waiting for him was as exciting as the first time. He was reinvigorated. Any onset of sore muscles and tired hips was gone the moment she keened for his attention.Â
Terryâs eyes were blown wide with excitement while he decided where to put his mouth first. He quickly settled on one of her legs, slowly lifting it by the ankle to lick and kiss the birthmark by her Achilles. His tongue traced an invisible map past her heel, to her pedicured toes, and back to her calf before closing his lips to cap his display of affection. He propped the leg on his shoulder and then pressed forward to bring his chest down over hers.Â
Patriceâs small mewls from the burning in her hamstrings became caught in Terryâs mouth as searched her mouth with sloppy enthusiasm. Her whining grew louder still once his tip pressed past her entrance.
âYou can take it,â he affirmed, pushing deeper. âI know you can. Iâm so proud of you.â
Affirmations and appreciative pecks across her face overrode aching muscles. She wanted, needed, to please him.Â
They released content sighs in tandem once they were pelvis to pelvis. A snug fit made every long stroke intoxicating as Terry set an even pace.Â
The repeated squeak of the bed added to their symphony of sounds growing more rabid by the second. They were off to the races on the way to an explosive finish line.Â
Terry was relentless as he kept her in place for a proper and precise fuck that reached all the way to her heart. Sheâd begun thinking up baby names and nursery themes when he split his attention between earth-shattering penetration and the addition of his thoughtful stimulation of her clit to cover all bases. She was just along for the ride and hoping that she could keep her volume at a reasonable level when the inevitable took over.Â
Patrice was the first to cum just as Terry intended. Her back arched off the bed in near levitation while she called his full name and the Lordâs to the ceiling.
âThatâs what I like, beautiful. Give me everything.âÂ
He smiled down at his work, obsessed with the sight and sounds of her much-deserved orgasm. She couldnât hold back if she wanted to. Wetness coated both of them as her hips circled to feel him fill her to the brim while a rush of endorphins flowed through her nervous system.
At the crest of her wave is where he came undone.Â
The involuntary clinching sent Terry into a tailspin of frenetic strokes and broken sentences with his face tucked firmly into Patriceâs neck. She comforted him through it all, speaking directly into the shell of his ear and punctuating every few words with a soft kiss.Â
âI wanna do this for the rest of our lives. Donât you want that, baby?â Terry forwent a verbal answer in favor of a short grunt as his pace became erratic. âFill me up. Letâs try for that son you used to tell me about.âÂ
âFuck, Treece.âÂ
âMaybe weâll name him after you. Heâll have my eyes and your smile, hm. Think you can do that for me tonight. I know you wanna cum. Do it for me, baby. Go ahead.âÂ
The magic words. He came with a gruff groan and a slew of profane words that would otherwise be offensive to any outside of the bubble theyâd created in those walls. His toes cramped, eyelids clamped shut, and ears rang while every breath came out shaky and labored. Patrice joined him throughout the ride until he returned to the Earthâs atmosphere.Â
Neither of them moved, preferring to hear the otherâs steady in and out while their chests rose and fell together.Â
âOne year,â Terry started, keeping his attention focused on bringing Patriceâs ring finger to his lips as he lay on her chest.Â
She paused the imaginary circles she was drawing on his shoulders and looked down at him. âOne year what?âÂ
âGimme a year and youâll be coming down the aisle or standing in front of the judge, whichever one you want. Where you wanna honeymoon?âÂ
âMmm, how about Puerto Rico?âÂ
âDone. Summer wedding?â
âEarly fall.âÂ
â10-4.âÂ
âYeah,â Patrice questioned, giggling. âAnd what else? Whatâs next?âÂ
 âMaking our parents grandparents, hopefully. Iâm trynna be an honest man. Take me out the streets, please!âÂ
Patriceâs cackle at Terryâs antic invited him to join at full volume. âAn honest man, huh? I can do that for you. Iâll make an honest man out of Terrence Richmond, no problem. Itâs the least I could do.âÂ
âMhmm.â Regaining some strength in his body, Terry kissed his way from her chest to her mouth, only stopping when he had her arching into him for more contact. He spoke with his nose pressed to hers. âPatrice Nicole Richmond. Sounds good, right?âÂ
âSounds perfect.âÂ
Terry hummed his approval, preferring to get back to the worship he had planned from the moment they set off to New Orleans.
Every second in their lives, together and apart, had brought them to a new beginning that neither of them couldâve imagined. If tonight was day one of forever, they vowed before each other and God to make it glorious one day at a time.Â
Terry had lost a lot. Money, family, himself. But under the white glow of a full moon and the touch of the one he cherished most, heâd gained so much more. Something heâd been searching for without the word to call it by its name until he got back to her front step one afternoon.
Love.
----
TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @hrlzy @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl
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Parenting Practice (Lando Norris)
A look into the Norris family summer vacation
Note: english is not my first language. It's been some time, hasn't it? A lot has been going on, and my mental health has taken the biggest toll, so the blog hasn't received much attention as I'm trying to keep the train going! For those who are here and have stayed, thank you for being so patient and for staying - I hope this is good enough âšïž
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated đ€ and I'm not taking requests right now, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to send them in but know that I don't know when I'll be able to get to them!
my masterlist
Cw: reader is pregnant
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @sltwins
"Are you all packed, my love?", Lando asked you as he zipped his suitcase effortlessly.
"Yes - are you sure it's fine if I take my pillow?", you wondered, holding the pregnancy pillow close to you, folding it into the carrier bag.
"It's regular carry-on, and as much as I hate that I have to share my cuddles with it, I know you sleep better with it so you definitely need to take it", Lando winked.
Blushing at your husband's antics, you made sure it was packed before looking around in case you missed something you needed to pack, "seems like I'm all good too - when do we need to leave?".
"In thirty minutes - how about I make us a snack to eat, then you can go pee before we go and then we head to the airport?", Lando suggested.
"Why did you need to specify that I have to take a pee break?", you poked you tongue out at him, pinching his butt as he walked past you.
"You were the one that told me I should always inform you of when you couldn't pee for a long time! The jet will touchdown to pick us both up and go straight up again - I don't think we will have time to use the base's bathroom, and you say you don't like the jet's bathroom, so I was just warning you, woman!", he bit back playfully.
Recalling the last time where you tried to use the bathroom and had to call Pietra to hold you in case you couldn't get out on your own, afraid that the bump would make moving around the tiny space impossible, you swore you'd always plan your pee breaks carefully from now on, "I'm craving something salty", you beamed as Lando walked down the stairs.
"A salty snack for mama and baby girl coming right up!", he yelled back and you could just imagine his head shaking from side to side with a charming smile on his face.
Your mother in-law was the first to greet you as soon as you stepped inside the aircraft, Lando holding your hand to make you didn't fall and helping with your shoes, "Y/N! Oh, you look so gorgeous!", she cooed.
"It's the compression socks, isn't it?", you giggled, lifting up your long skirt to show her, "doctor said it would be better for the swelling - Goodness knows I need all the help I can with that", you mumbled the last bit.
"Don't be silly, you look beautiful!", Pietra complimented.
"She does, doesn't she?", Lando complimented, kissing your cheek before letting you go and feeling slightly jealous that everyone was now looking at you when you had been a sight for his eyes only for the past few days.
.
"Is all of that jealousy, brother?", Cisca asked her brother, touching her toes on his thigh after she sat down on her beach chair. The sun had finally showed up and there was a light breeze going on, making it the perfect beach day and it was only lunchtime as they sat on the beach bar after making the food orders.
"Jealousy? Of what?", Lando quirked his eyebrow over his sunglasses, drifting his attention from you and looking back to his youngest sister.
"The girls haven't left Y/N since the plane, only to sleep and Sav was just saying she swears she heard Athena call your wife before she fell asleep", she snickered, "You've lost favourite uncle status, we all have I think".
"Like we stood a chance to begin with", Lando scoffed, "she was made to be a mother, and before that she had all the practice with being an auntie. And the girls genuinely think they can play with baby girl like they play with their dolls once she's here with us".
"Mila is gentle most days, Athena is... still a bit hard on her movements I think - oh, just on cue!", she yelped.
"Oh, darling, that was a bit strong, wasn't it?", you scolded softly, taking her hand away from your ear after she pushed on your hoop.
"Come here, you trouble maker!", Adam called, grabbing the little girl away from your lap as you rearranged your jewellery.
"She surely has a strong grip!", you chuckled before winking at Lando, mouthing a silent "I love you, Lan" across the table.
Cisca groaned playfully, "is all of that jealousy, little sister?", Lando teased her before blowing you a kiss and mouthing it back.
.
You were enjoying the pool the villa had, soaking up the sun as you laid on Lando's chest, tracing random shapes on his chest while his hand travelled around your waist and bump, often tapping it when your little girl kicked or moved.
It was fairly quiet until the girls woke up from their naps, immediately coming down to join you and invite everyone to swim with them.
Deciding to engage in their delight, you got up and walked to the edge of the pool, carefully sitting on the warm stone and letting your legs dip in the water to cool your body while Lando dove in and played with the girls, "careful, Mila, you can't unzip your vest!", he called.
Pulling her closer to you, you managed to zip it back up and help her swim back to her uncle, "is the bump getting in the way?", Sav asked you, mimicking your early movements and sitting next to you.
"When I'm sitting down, yes", you chuckled, "I don't have the same range of movements and my mind still has to catch up with that".
"It's a sign that she's growing well though", your sister in-law added, propping herself up on her arms so she could ease the rest of ther body into the water, getting immediate attention from her children as they called her to them, "soon enough you'll have someone calling you every waking second!".
"She already does, though! Look at him making a bee line to her now that she's free!", Oliver joked as Lando swam to you.
"I won't even bother answering that", Lando pointed to his brother before reaching you, ignoring everyone else as he gently wrapped his arms around your calves and rested his chin on your knees, "hi, beautiful", he smiled.
"Hey, handsome", you smiled, brushing a fallen curl away from his forehead, "did you enjoy your splashes?", you asked giggling.
"It was fun, yes. Athena poked my eye a couple of times though", he argued, "can you imagine our little princess playing with them this time next year?", he wondered.
"Three little girls", you mused, nodding at the idea, "you better get ready to be a princess too!".
"I have what it takes to be a girl dad, some people might even say I'm very girl dad coded", he tsked you, earning laughs from you.
"You definitely are, yes", you rubbed your bump, "you haven't been her long and she's already kicking like crazy - definitely a daddy's girl".
"Hey, sweet girl", Lando spoke, lightly wetting the skin as his hands touched your bump, "are you having a good time in there? Mummy always says she's too hot so we hope you're doing good away from this heat. And this helps, no?", he wondered as the baby kicked against the droplets, "yeah, it's good and cooling", he cooed.
.
"I'm craving something salty", you said as you grabbed the menu, flicking the pages to see what tickled your fancy.
You had decided to go to the beach bar and have lunch there, not wanting to have to pack everything to go back home only to come back for the afternoon. Everyone was gathered around the table as the waiter took the orders.
"Feeling good? Well rested?", you asked Lando once you caught him looking at you.
"Yes", he admitted, "I thought it would be harder to switch off, but it's been very good", he squeezed your thigh, kissing the side of your head and pulling you to his chest, "how are my girls today? You look ethereal in this dress, darling".
The white dress was flowy at times and tight in all the right spots, showcasing your babybump perfectly, "we've been good, no more harsh kicking on my bladder which I appreciate, isn't that right, Tilly?", you rubbed just above your bellybutton, "but we're both quite hungry".
"The waiter said yours should be quick to make", he offered since the waiter mentioned that the Caesar salad was a popular plate and they always had it running.
Once everyone was served, you began eating, delighted and exclaiming how good e everything was.
"Have a bite of this, baby, trust me!", Lando offered as he gathered a bit of everything on his fork to feed you.
"It's sweet, I'm not sure I'll like it", you scrunched up your face.
"Try a little bit", he encouraged as he made a shell shape with his hand to catch anything that fell or dropped.
The food was definitely the opposite of what you had, but it was delicious. That you couldn't deny.
"It's good, isn't it? I told you!", Lando smiled, "do you want some more?", he offered while already getting everything on the fork again.
"Baby girl seems happy too", you giggled, feeling her move.
"She has good taste in food, what can I say?!", Lando giggled back.
.
The vacation was well underway by the time you decided which days you wanted to spend on the boat, Oliver and Savannah staying inside with the girls along with Adam and Cisca who decided they would make lunch for everyone.
"Do you know what I have just realised?", you spoke to Flo as you both watched Lando and Cisca's boyfriend jump into the water, "your brother has a massive head - like, it's really big, specially when you compare to Max's", you pointed to your husband's best friend who had joined you for the last few days.
That morning, you cried about the fact that your bikini dug on your hips only for Lando to tell you that you hadn't tired the sides properly and that you had more than enough room to accommodate your growing body, so right now this was a way better way to deal with the rush of hormones you were having.
"I think we all do, to be fair - Cisca has the smalled one I guess", Flo squinted as she looked at her sister who walked closer to you.
"Why are you looking at me like that?", Cisca wondered.
"I've just realised how big your brother's head is and how I'm probably going to be split apart when this little girl - little body but surely a big head - joins us", you rubbed your bump as tears formed in your eyes.
"Oh, Y/N, my friends have had babies with big heads and they're fine", Pietra offered, "they were just fine", she said before waving at Max so him and Lando could come to the rescue.
"I don't know why I'm crying, which makes this even worse - Goodness", you wiped your eyes and chuckled, "I can feel her head, it's about here from what I remember from the scans - and it's big, like, really big! How is that going to work?", you blurted.
"What's the matter? Is everything alright? Y/N, are you good? Is it Tilly?", Lando asked worriedly as he saw you break into a fit of giggles and seeing the girls fight their laughter a bit before joining.
"The matter is that you have a big head and Tilly's will also be big", you explained, "I'm not the tiniest person ever, so there's definitely room but can you imagine? I have to ask your mother how big your head was when you were born because I feel like I need to do prep work for it", you mused, "it's all natural until you decide to have a kid with the guy who has a big head".
"Oh, Y/N has gone dark", Max muttered, earning himself a swat on his forehead from Pietra, "what? Did I lie?", he hissed, containing his laughter.
"I'm not sure what you'd like me to do here, my love", Lando admitted, sitting next to you and attempting to squeeze your thigh lovingly, knowing the affectionate gesture could go both ways.
"Our baby is making me feel like I have the emotional and cognitive skills of a toddler", you mumbled as you cuddled your husband, supporting your bump with a pillow Flo got for you as you both layed down.
"It's okay, Y/N, I don't mind having to reason with you - we'll consider this practice for when we have our little one, okay beautiful?", Lando kissed your forehead.
#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fluff#f1 x you
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Sunday kind of love - Lando Norris x Reader
fluff.
approx. 1000 words
warnings: n/a
lando norris masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.
Sundays over summer break. Definitely your favourite time- and Landoâs too.
Mornings.... He woke up around 11 a.m., slowly rolling over and letting his arm fall gently across your waist. A soft, surprised hum escaped him when he realized you were still in bed. He snuggled closer, burying his face into your neck and mumbling about the dream heâd just had, his words a sleepy mix of half-formed thoughts and quiet hums. It was clear he was still drifting between sleep and wakefulness.
"Morning to you too," you whispered with a soft giggle, reaching up to playfully ruffle his hair. He breathed in deeply, catching the faint scent of your perfume still clinging to your skin from the night before, a comforting reminder of the night you spent together.
âHungry,â he sighed sleepily, stretching across your body to grab his phone from the bedside table. âOrdering,â he mumbled as he opened UberEats, staring at the green screen before it loaded.
You huffed, âI can cook, you know?â pushing his phone from his face.
He blinked at you in sleepy confusion, âI can orderâŠâ He trailed off, clearly puzzled as to why you'd want to cook when he could just tap a few buttons.
AfternoonsâŠ. The sun was high, casting a warm golden glow through the curtains as the afternoon settled in. The two of you were sprawled out on the living room floor, a puzzle spread before youâa thousand tiny pieces waiting to be placed. It had started as a lazy idea, something to do together that didnât involve screens or too much thinking. But now, you were both deep into it, determined to see it through.
âWhereâs that edge piece? I swear we just had it,â you muttered, scanning the scattered pieces.
He grinned, holding it up between his fingers. âThis one?â
âYes! Thatâs the one,â you said, a hint of triumph in your voice as he handed it over.
As you placed it, he leaned back on his elbows, watching you with a soft smile. âYouâre really into this, huh?â
You glanced at him, smiling back. âItâs just nice to do something like this together. Plus, Iâm not letting this puzzle beat us.â
He chuckled, reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face. âWe make a good team.â
âMaybe I could replace Oscar next year,â I shrug and laugh.
The afternoon passed in a blur of easy conversation and comfortable silences, the puzzle slowly coming together piece by piece. When you finally placed the last piece, both of you sat back, admiring your work.
âLooks pretty good,â he said, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips.
âNot bad at all,â you agreed, your fingers brushing over the completed picture. âBut now what?â
He looked thoughtful for a moment before his eyes lit up. âHow about we make some food, grab some snacks, and just⊠relax? Maybe watch a movie?â
You nodded, feeling the warmth of the moment settle into your bones. âSounds perfect.â
So, thatâs what you did. The puzzle was left on the table as you moved to the kitchen together, brewing a pot of tea and gathering some of your favorite snacks.Â
EveningsâŠ. The sky outside had deepened into a rich indigo, stars beginning to dot the horizon as the day slowly surrendered to night. The living room was dimly lit, a few candles flickering on the coffee table, casting a warm, golden hue around the room. You and Lando were still wrapped up in the cozy blanket from earlier, now nestled together on the couch.
The movie youâd chosen had ended a while ago, but neither of you had moved to turn off the TV. It played softly in the background, more of a comforting presence than something you were actively watching. The remains of your tea sat on the table beside a bowl of popcorn, half-eaten and forgotten.
Lando shifted slightly, his arm tightening around you as he spoke, his voice low and relaxed. âThis is nice⊠just being here with you.â
You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. âYeah, it is. I wish every night could be like this.â
He turned his head to press a soft kiss to your temple. âWeâll make sure of it. Even on race weekends weâll do something like this, hm?â
You nodded, feeling the warmth of his words settle over you. âDeal.â
For a while, you both just sat there, content in the silence, the rhythmic sound of his breathing soothing. The world outside felt far away, like it didnât exist beyond the walls of your little haven.
After a while, Lando reached for the remote, turning off the TV. âShould we head to bed?â he asked, his voice soft, as if he didnât want to disturb the peacefulness of the moment.
You nodded again, feeling a pleasant drowsiness wash over you. âYeah, I think itâs time.â
He stood up first, offering you his hand with a playful grin. You took it, letting him pull you to your feet. As you walked to the bedroom, hand in hand, the calmness of the evening wrapped around you both like a warm blanket.
Once in the bedroom, you both went through the familiar routineâblowing out the candles, brushing teeth, changing into comfortable sleepwear, and finally slipping under the cool, crisp sheets. The bed was cold and yet inviting, and as soon as you settled in, Lando pulled you close, his arm draping over your waist.
You let out a contented sigh, feeling his steady heartbeat against your back. âGoodnight, Lando,â you whispered, your voice filled with affection.
âGoodnight,â he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. âSweet dreams.â
Within minutes, you felt yourself drifting off, lulled by the comfort of his presence and the tranquility of the evening. The last thing you remembered before sleep claimed you was the feeling of his hand gently holding yours.
<3
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