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arabellasleopardcoat · 2 months ago

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Spring (Cregan Stark x Reader)

Summary: As a Princess, you aren’t used to rejection. But Cregan, your husband, has vowed to only ever love one woman, and it isn't you. Right?

Warnings: Slightly less unreliable narrator (Cregan has come to his senses, reader is on the way) Mature language.

A/N: I really thought these two would get their mess sorted out in nine scenes, but I was far too optimistic. Lucky me, I had one season as backup! Also, thank you so, so much for continuing to read this series and your kind comments!

IT IS FUNNY, how wrong can Cregan be about people. He is no longer afraid to admit it. He had been mistaken about you.

The utter viciousness you had displayed, bringing up his dead wife, had only been a source of anger for him at first. He had thought you an evil little bitch, unafraid of exploiting weak spots to hurt him.

Then, he had seen you with Rickon. And his world had just… Shifted. As if every piece of furniture in Winterfell had been moved exactly one inch to the left, and no one had told him, leaving him stumbling around in his own home.

You weren’t evil or jealous. Or, more likely, you were, but not because of some petty reason, it was because you were insecure. The mere idea was laughable, why would a Princess of the Realm be insecure? But it made too much sense for him to ignore.

Each time Cregan had cracked a joke that compared you to Arra, like commenting on the number of packages and dresses you had brought from the South, you had taken it as a personal criticism. You felt unappreciated, so you lashed out and avoided him at every turn.

You were kind, smart, and capable. Just not in the way Cregan was used to women being capable. The northern women were considered capable because they were physically strong, able to wield bows, ride hard and long or withstand the terrible weather.

You, instead, shared Prince Jacaerys’ strength. You were honorable, unable to leave a child in need, and kind, enough that you would comfort them until their parents reached them. But most of all, you had a brain suited for politics.

Cregan had never noticed before because he had never bothered to truly look at what you were doing, but your charities were to make your mother’s cause more popular with the smallfolk. He had heard your mother was doing a similar thing in the capital, delivering food to the starved population due to a blockade of the own Blacks’ making. Not that the commoners cared about the last part. They only cared about those who put food on their bellies.

And perhaps the Queen dowager and Princess Helaena were popular in the South because of their involvement in the Septs, but you were exploiting the lack of those here. Without Septs, there were no Septas or Septons tending to the sick and poor. You were. And the North would remember, when it came time to march for your mother’s banners.

Cregan would bet Ice that you were having tea with the northern ladies not to gain friends. The Old Gods knew you were an introverted creature, painfully awkward at niceties, much like he was. It explained why the two of you were so uncomfortable with each other. You were probably entertaining the northerns to win their loyalties, knowing the combined pressure of Cregan’s oath and their wives would make his lords more eager to drop coin and men for your war.

Oh, if Cregan got you on his side, the two of you would be a force to be reckoned with. He could already see how much security you could bring to the North, how well fed you could be during winter, if you decided to work with him and not behind him.

You were a wonderful woman. Kind and tender to his son, smart as a whip, utterly terrifying when crossed. You would make a fine wife to any lord, and Cregan couldn’t believe how stupid he had been not to see it. You just needed to be encouraged, and Cregan, dumb as a rock, had been doing the exact opposite.

While you hadn’t exactly been trying, Cregan was man enough to admit that part of the blame laid on him. He had been pushing you away without even realizing it, comparing you to Arra at every turn, without considering how that might come across to you.

That ended today. He would prove himself worthy of your love and loyalty, and win you over. Cregan wasn’t a man of half measures. He would woo you or spend the rest of his life trying.

Set in his decision, Cregan walked to your chambers. He waved off the guard’s attempt to announce him, casually strolling in.

You were seated next to the fire, the leather-bound book you usually carried around spread over your lap. It was a heavy tome, bound in brown leather with golden engravings. It was written in High Valyrian, a language for which Cregan had little use, so he had never learned it beyond recognizing the alphabet.

There was a striking beauty to your expression when you were at ease, the peaceful expression you wore becoming you much more than the usual frown you directed at him. Cregan found himself wondering how beautiful you must look smiling, if you looked this radiant when at peace.

You had the sort of face to be lit up with happiness, he could already tell. His heart ached to be the one that finally coaxed it out of you.

“Princess,” Cregan calls, softly. You set your book aside, ready to get up and curtsy, but he halts you. “No need for that, wife. My ego is not so fragile I need my woman to bow to me.”

“Lord Husband.” You reply, for once not frowning. Your face remains carefully neutral, which Cregan considers a victory. He would attribute it to his remark about his ego, but it is more likely due to guilt. He will take it regardless.

“No need for that either, much less today.” Cregan smiles at you. “You may call me Cregan, if you wish. I am here to thank you for caring for my Rickon while I was away.”

You look far more confused than you did before. You look like you want to approach him and run at the same time, your wool gown fluttering as you squirm in place, undecided if you are approaching or not.

“I simply did my duty, my lord.”

Cregan’s smile widens, amused by you.

“Singing him was part of it? By the Gods, I thought I had a wife and not a minstrel?” And the dry, northern humor doesn’t seem to suit you because you frown slightly. Cregan fights the urge to curse, instead making a mental note. You dislike being mocked, even in jest. He wonders what sharp words you had to endure in the South to be like this, and feels a wave of pity. Dark of hair and no dragon to shield you? Perhaps that was why you were far kinder to Sara than to him. He gives a tasteful cough. Or at least, his attempt at it.

“I only meant to say you went beyond your duties, and I thank you for it. You didn’t have to, but it meant the world to him.” Cregan tries again, and you blink at him, as if he were unable to understand anything at all.

“He is a child.” You say, slowly. “No person would leave a child in need.”

“You would be surprised.” Cregan thinks of how his own mother had treated Sara when she had arrived at Winterfell, treatment that hadn’t improved when his aunt took on as the Lady of the household. His sister had only known freedom after Cregan had taken over his seat, and she was still judged by the rest of the North, even though in a much subtle manner.

“Mmm.” Your reply is noncommittal.

“He has been asking me lately why he doesn't have a lady mother.” Cregan attempts again. He is not above using Rickon to have an excuse to spend time with you. And to his amusement, it does work. You pity his son more than him, it seems because you begin to pay him more attention.

“What did you tell him?” You tilt your head to the side, curious. It’s a surprisingly cute gesture for the unshakable princess that you are.

“I do not know. I have not answered him.” Cregan searches for somewhere to sit, but apart from the loveseat in which you are soaking up the warmth of the fireplace, there is none. He grabs the stool by your writing area, and brings it over.

He sits on the stool across from you, wiggling a bit with how uncomfortable it is. It feels like his knees are on his chest, by the Gods. It’s clearly meant for a shorter person. Your rooms are not made for receiving visitors, he should have thought of that earlier. You need a space to receive people that isn’t the sitting room. What if you wish to have more private conversations?

“Surely he knows she is dead?” You are too caught up in your disbelief to protest that he is rearranging your furniture. Good.

“He does, but doesn’t quite grasp what dead means.” Cregan is being honest. Whoever has the heart to explain to a child of two namedays what death is, is a braver man than him.

“Perhaps you could say she is in the Seven Heavens?” Your frown comes back, but this time it isn’t angry. Instead, it’s puzzled. You are trying to help him, and it makes him fight the urge to smile. He doesn’t want you to think that he is mocking your suggestion.

“We do not believe that here.”

“Neither do I.” And this time, there is the barest beginning of a playful smile on your lips. Oh, you minx! Cregan smiles to himself, charmed. It emboldens him to continue.

“Just, I would like it if you saw him more often. With me. Perhaps… He has asked about you, and I am not asking you to replace her but I… He sometimes needs a more feminine touch.”

“Of course.” You agree. And he can see in your eyes you think he might be trying to use you as a stand in for Arra, not truly believing his words, but that is alright. Cregan will show you. Or at least, he is going to do his very best attempt.

YOU MAKE SURE there are enough pastries and hot water available before you stand up.

“I am afraid I must leave you, my ladies. But you are welcome to continue enjoying the hospitality of Winterfell.” The sitting room is filled with northern women. You have begun inviting them for tea twice a moon, trying to ensure your mother will have all the support she needs when she takes King’s Landing.

It has proven to be quite the difficult task. Northerns are often suspicious of outsiders, and from what you have learned through these gossip sessions, they rarely marry southrons. The only ones who do are the most important Houses, like the Starks or the Boltons. It means that most of your ladies are northern by birth, and not through marriage as you are.

“This early?” Lady Mormont asks, bluntly. Her bluntness had discomfited you during your first meetings, but you have come to find it refreshing. “Princess?” She tacks on, remembering she is supposed to mind her courtesies with you.

“This early.” You confirm, with a smile. You have planned the time of this tea with precision for this same motive, knowing it will appeal to their loyalty, but also allow you to escape the socializing. “I have a play date with my Lord Husband and little Rickon.”

One of the ladies coos. Lady Mormont barks out a laughter.

“Ah, to be a young woman with that many suitors.”

“Only the very best.” You smile, and leave them to feast on the pastries.

You make your way to Cregan’s solar at a leisure pace. The crushed velvet gown you are wearing is in a blue so pale it almost looks like the gray of House Stark. It is one of your old ones, meant to evoke House Velaryon’s colors. It fits you again, having gained a bit of weight during your time in the North. You hope it is a gown suitable for playing with a toddler.

As you enter, you notice Rickon is arriving as well, tugged along by a maid. He chirps a greeting to you, a mix of your name and title that sounds more like gibberish. Yet, you are helpless to him.

“Rickon!” You kneel by him, as he runs to be picked up. You indulge him, smelling his hair as you lift him. He smells of sweet innocence, and a bit like Cregan. You hate that you cannot hate him or be indifferent any longer. The little boy has stolen your heart.

Rickon gives you a toothy smile, his hands clumsily going to cup your face. Who can resist him? Not you.

“I see you found each other.” Cregan leans against the door, smirking. He holds two cups. “Warm milk with honey. For the cold.”

You cannot help but smile a little.

“Our knight in shining armor!” You tease, more for Rickon’s benefit than him. “Let us in, good Ser. So I can place my little wildling down and he can drink it.”

Cregan laughs and moves aside to let the two of you pass. As you do so, you cannot help but notice how much space he takes up, tall and wide. Your eyes linger on his shoulders. You have not seen him wield Ice yet, but you have seen the sword. He has to have considerable strength to do so.

The thought is strangely thrilling. Your stomach does a somersault, but before you have time to analyze it, Rickon begins to squirm in your arms.

“Down! Down! Doggie!” He pleads. You look to see what has caught his attention and notice that Cregan has moved the rug so it lays by the fireplace, and placed some of Rickon’s toys there, including his more favored one: A soft cotton white wolf.

You set Rickon down and take one of the cups from Cregan. Both of you sit down on the rug as well, and watch Rickon play with his wolf, ignoring his cup of milk. You have come to learn that playing with an only child is much different than playing with your younger siblings, Rickon mostly plays alone and wants you there to show you things.

It forces you to keep conversations with your husband, if only because the silence would be too awkward otherwise.

“I have arranged for us to have tea when Rickon tires.” Cregan informs you, a bit stiff.

“Oh, I already had tea with the…” You start, before Cregan interrupts you.

“You are far too thin still. Besides, I know your tea spreads are made of mostly northern sweets. I asked the cooks to make one of your favorites, Prince Jacaerys was kind enough to set up correspondence for me with the cooks of Dragonstone.”

It’s awfully thoughtful of him, and you will examine it later because your mind is still stuck on one tiny detail. One that infuriates you.

“You are corresponding with Jace?” You ask, trying hard not to sound violent. After all, he has been very kind to you as of late, and guilt has begun to creep in for your careless words about his late wife. Not that you will apologize or anything. You intend to pretend nothing happened and be extra nice to Cregan, indulging Rickon and him on all the tea and play dates in the world.

“I am. He would be very pleased if you stopped burning his letters.” His tone is chiding, though gentle. You take a deep breath in. Jace, the traitor. Cregan keeps his tone kind. “He still grieves your brother, Princess. Do not make him mourn a sister in life.”

“Does he think I shall never forgive him?” You ask him, baffled. Rickon begins building a tower with blocks on the rug, insisting that the two of you aid him in building Winterfell, so Cregan’s answer is delayed. As you place some blocks to make the entrance, you have time to think over his words.

All alone in Dragonstone, Jace must be feeling as lonely as you are. Only more because he has no Cregan and Rickon to stand with him.

What he had done was a deep betrayal in your eyes, but was it truly? You had known you would have to marry eventually, and it probably wouldn’t be a love match. Jace had done the best he could in the terrible circumstances you were in. Moved by his fear of losing another sibling, he had entrusted you to Cregan because he thought you could be happy here. Safe.

And you were. There was no fiercest protector for you apart from your husband. After marrying him, no one had dared even to breathe the rumors of your bastardy, and he even worried about what you ate, by the Gods’ sake!

“You can hold a grudge.” Cregan says, cautiously, when Rickon is distracted by his cup of milk and begins to attempt drinking it. Usually, drinking his milk is followed by passing out, so he is careful to support him in his lap. The sight makes your chest feel oddly warm.

Oh.

This was bad.

You were falling in love with Cregan.

“Perhaps I don’t want to any longer.” You say, looking into his eyes. You are no longer speaking of Jace.

Cregan seems to catch on your meaning because he reaches forward and takes your hand in his. Fixated on how big and warm his hand feels against yours, you almost miss his soft words.

“Neither do I.”

SARA’S EYES, GREY and so much like his father’s, are fixed on him. Cregan tries to ignore her, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of appearing uncomfortable. But before the hour passes, he is squirming in his chair, unnerved by her silent stare.

Sara continues to stare. Cregan refuses to speak to her. After a while, she sets down the book she has taken from his shelves, a dreadfully boring account of the battles fought by the Kings of Winter, and perches her chin in her hands.

That way, her staring is much more obvious. She is comfortably laid back in one of the armchairs he has in his solar. Cregan likes company when he works, and it’s easier to ask for her opinion if she is right there. Unfortunately, it also means she can stare at him for hours on end if she so wished.

“What?” Cregan asks, when he can’t take it any longer. He pushes away the reports about the safety of Wintertown and how prepared they are for winter, and looks up at her. She still doesn’t speak. “Sara!”

“Apologies, brother.” By her smile, she is anything but sorry. “I just find it fascinating.”

Cregan sighs. He doesn’t really want to bite, but if he doesn’t, Sara’s teasing will get worse and worse.

“What is fascinating?”

“How you have managed to turn into a spineless southron in less than two moons.” Cregan can only gape at her. What is she going on about? “Not only have you turned timid, you are also a moron. And cunt struck. Well, are you? I know you are not getting any, does one need to actually be bedding the woman to be cunt…” She doesn’t even finish her words, cackling with laughter.

His face grows hot, burning with embarrassment.

“I should have married you to an Umber and be done with it.” He mutters, under his breath, which only makes her cackle further. Both of them know that Sara would never be married off as if she were some cattle. Cregan loves her too much for it, and she is a deeply independent woman.

“Who would advise you, then?” She asks him, brazenly. “Your sweet little wife? While she is great at wrangling lords and ladies, I doubt she has the stomach for warfare.”

“There is a certain innocence to these Velaryons, yes.” At his words, Sara glares. She hates to be reminded she had not been as immune as she liked to think she was to Prince Jacaerys’ charms. “But if the worst comes to pass, I actually intend to have her hold Winterfell alongside you and Rickon.”

“There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.” Sara approves. “Shall you march south, Rickon and I will suffice.”

“I wish to begin teaching her, when she no longer seems willing to murder me.”

“I think she isn’t willing to murder you any longer.” And it is as good of an endorsement he will get from Sara.

“She still seems to think I do not love her.” Cregan whines.

“Because you mention Arra all the time. I have heard it’s in bad taste, but what would I know?” Sara rolls her eyes. “I am just some bastard girl.”

“Are you simply going to complain or will you help me?” Cregan looks at her and tries giving her his best pleading look. Then, he decides to stroke her pride. “You know I always seek your council, even above other lords.”

“Even above Lord Cerwyn?” Her mouth purses in a dubious pout. Fuck. His sister or his best friend? In the end, the choice is easy. Sara is here now, after all.

“Of course.”

Sara positively beams.

“You should tell him so.” Her rivalry with him had never made any sense to him, they had known each other since childhood, too. The man didn’t even care about who her mother had been and never took insult with her… Well, insults. Plural. Always thrown at him by Sara. Now that he thought of it, his friend always sought excuses to see Sara. Odd. “Loudly. But I am feeling generous and not demand that you do so immediately. I shall gloat in my victory, and it will be even sweeter if he doesn’t know.”

“Your advice?” Cregan asks, tiredly. The Gods knew that she would talk circles around him if he let her. She was honest, but she also had a gift for courtly speech that Cregan despised.

“Women like gifts. Or I do. And I am a woman.” Sara shrugs. “She is a Princess, of course she does too. And don’t just gift her anything.”

“I would never be…” That stupid, Cregan wishes to add, but Sara is still speaking.

“Gift her something special. Something unique, tailored to her. And especially, something that you wouldn’t gift practical Arra.”

Cregan stares at Sara. Sara stares back. Then, very pointedly, she picks up her book and continues to read. The message is clear. He will not get any further help.

Still, her advice lingers. In the coming days, Cregan cannot shake the thought, regardless of what he is doing. As he inspects his men, as he reads during his spare time, even as he bathes. All Cregan thinks of is you, and a gift that would please you.

He even dares ask Rickon. His suggestion of a direwolf isn’t exactly bad. It’s just difficult on its execution, and not something Cregan would choose when thinking of a gift for you.

He discards many more ideas, from rolls of myrish lace to donations to your charities. You ran far too cold to wear the former, and the latter wouldn’t truly be a gift to you. He wastes nearly a week coming up with a suitable idea, and two more corresponding with the Prince, the Maester at Dragonstone, and securing the goods he needs.

It’s all worth it, when he takes a look at the finished present and can know that you will love it.

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melminli · 3 months ago

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Could you store something with jun-hee (player 222) x f!reader plz🙏

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby

summary - it may sound a bit cliché, but you were in love with your best friend. even though you always wanted to tell her, you strongly doubted that she could use your love - you didn't know that she thought the same. you two were really stupid, huh?

pairing: kim jun-hee x fem. reader

word count: 1.1k

contains: wlw, angst w/ comfort, arguing, fluff, pre squid game au, hidden feelings

a/n: i went to a cas concert a few months ago and it was insane. this was the song that just stuck with me since then and i thought about her when i listened to it again after watching the show! hope u like it ;p

"Oh man, they forgot our spring rolls." you realized disappointed after you went through each package of food one by one until there was nothing left but napkins in the bag. You looked at your best friend as you said. "Should I go to the store and get them? I know how much you like them, and I think the owner likes me, who knows, maybe we'll get an extra portion or something, huh?"

Jun-hee just shook her head with a gentle smile on her face. "That's all right. I want to eat with you and by the time you come back, the food will be all cold and mushy." she said, reaching for the chopsticks after opening her box of fried noodles.

You sat down on the opposite chair of your little dining table in your small kitchen. "I guess, I can't argue with that." you gave in and reached for a spoon to mix your fried rice a little.

You had turned on the radio a while ago and the music it was playing accompanied the pleasant silence between the two of you. You could hardly stop yourself from thinking about how homely this all felt right now with her, as you often did in the last few days. It was sudden and you were definitely caught off guard when Jun-hee suddenly appeared at your doorstep with a packed bag in tow. You didn't know exactly what happened, but you didn't need to because you could imagine that it probably had something to do with her parents or something - it didn't matter. She would tell you when she was ready.

"I heard that this one popular show is getting a second season soon, you know..." you started to tell her and then tried to think of the title when you suddenly heard a soft howl. You immediately stood up when you saw Jun-hee sitting huddled up with her arms covering her face. "Hey, what's wrong..." you asked worriedly, not used to such an emotional reaction from her since she was usually such a collected person. This was a very rare occurrence.

She interrupted you before you could say anything else. "I'm pregnant!" she cried out, feeling the lingering guilt inside her finally take over her entire mind as she uttered those words. A few minutes passed with you just holding her like that and Jun-hee clung tightly to you, sobbing. She was worried that you might let her go - in fact, she expected you to, which is why she didn't tell you for so long.

I can't blame her for anything, I really am the worst. She thought to herself when she still couldn't bring herself to let go. No matter how selfish it might be of her.

"Is it from that Mingyu guy?" you finally asked her and she nodded vaguely, but it was enough for you to understand. Jun-hee didn't even bother to correct you when you said his name wrong.

You just sighed and even if you didn't say it out loud, she could feel how angry you were with her - how disappointed. "You're mad at me," she stated while you continued to stroke her back reassuringly, even when the position you were holding her in was a little uncomfortable for you. "Of course I am, the guy's an asshole and you're only in your early twenties," you answered her honestly, comforting her with your own broken heart. "Does he even know? Last I heard, all his fans were sending him death threats because he stole their money or something."

She didn't even want to think about it. "He's not answering my calls and I have no idea where he is."

You let out another heavy sigh. "You're really stupid sweetie, I knew that guy was like this from the beginning, really," you spoke up before looking confusedly at Jun-hee after she lifted her head from your chest and met your gaze with a furrowed brow. "Can you stop rubbing it in my face? I already know that I fucked up!" she exclaimed, completely exhausted as she continued to rub her reddened eyes.

So she wants to keep the baby, her parents probably kicked her out as soon as they found out. You massaged your forehead, exhausted. "So, what now?" you just asked her, elaborating on your question when she looked at you with a confused look. You just wanted to kiss her right now and tell her that everything would be okay again and at the same time, you wanted to smash your head through a wall and cry. "What are you going to do now with a baby on the way? Do you have a plan for how you're going to look after it?"

I don't have a job or any money. I don't know what to do. She didn't answer you right away and just avoided your gaze, embarrassed, so you reached for her hand to get her attention. "If you don't know what to do and you want me to help you, then you have to tell me," you finally said and you were probably the stupid one this time.

Jun-hee looked at you in surprise and took a few seconds to really understand what you meant. "Are you sure? You don't have to do something like that for me..."

You interrupted her relatively quickly. "I want to do this for you because -" and your love confession was almost half hanging from your lips when you stopped yourself from saying it out loud in the last second. What am I doing? This is completely the wrong time for this. "- because you can always count on me, even if no one else does."

Oh, that's right. Jun-hee thought to herself as she held her pounding heart and smiled a little forcedly. I thought she was going to say something else, how stupid of me I mean you're pregnant with another man's child right now Jun-hee, wake up. She brought herself back down to earth. You already gave her more than enough. "Please, help me."

You spread your arms out again to catch her in a hug. "We'll work it out, don't worry..." you tried to reassure her further, any unspoken feelings remaining as you both made the decision to keep them a secret.

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago

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a little fashion show

kinktober, day four

a/n: bro, the amount of time this idea has been in the notes app on my phone....

warnings: stiles stilinski x reader, smut, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, trying on lingerie, teasing, flashing, kissing

word count: 990

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

“Who was at the door?” Stiles asked as your giddy form appeared in the doorway to your room once more.

“The mailman,” you giggled, unable to contain your excitement, “and look!”

“You got a package!” not getting as revved up in the excitement as you were, he nonchalantly pointed out the parcel in your palms, “oh, cool!”

“Not just any package, only the one I’ve been waiting about a billion years to arrive,” you shut the door behind you, gazing down at the bundle in your hands with heart-shaped eyes, “you don’t mind if I just try this stuff on right now, do you? I just don’t know if I can wait till you leave.”

Discretely readjusting in his comfortable seat on your mattress, he waved a hand, “no, no, it’s fine.”

“Really? Great!” you squealed, digging your fingers into the opening of the package, “you can help me see if any of it doesn’t suit me or fit right, give you a little fashion show and everything.”

“Alright, sure,” he agreed with a soft chuckle as you disappeared behind the wide bookcase that acted as a divider in the middle of your room.

After changing into the first item, you couldn’t stop yourself from springing back out, arms raised high above your head as you sang, “tada! What do you think?”

“Wow, oh, wow,” you watched Stiles eyes grow wide as they landed on the extremely short nightgown hanging around your form, “that’s-, that’s-…”

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” you turned your back to your stunned friend to glance at yourself in the mirror, “the floral pattern especially.”

Gaze tracing your hands as they played with the tiny skirt, “y-yeah, it is,” you just barely managed to catch sight of his reflection discreetly move one of your pink pillows over his lap, “it’s good, you should definitely keep that one.”

You hadn’t thought that his blush could have gotten any worse, but evidently, as you soon pranced out clad in the next thing, it very much could.

“What about this one?” you innocently observed the lingerie set in the long mirror, turning a bit to see how the high-waisted, black underwear hugged your bottom, “do you think it fits alright?”

Looking like a broken PlayStation 2 game you��d have to pull out and blow on, Stiles simply hummed, “huh?”

“I just feel like if I jump around or bend over in this, the girls are just gonna spill out,” your nose crinkled as your fingertips ghosted over the cups of the matching bra.

“I mean,” he blinked hazily, “you could test it out, if you want.”

Obliging twice, jumping gently in place, the squint to your eye didn’t fade away as not only you observed how your boobs jiggled in the cups, “hm, I don’t know, maybe one of the ones that has a different cut then this one…”

Peeping through the shy slivers of the bookcase, you bit down on your smirk as you watched the trouble you’d stirred up on the other side. As you slid off the black number, daringly arching your back and purposefully sticking your butt out far enough for him to catch a glimpse, you spotted how a string of your want clung to the panties as you dragged the down your legs.

If this last one wasn’t gonna do the trick, make the guy you’d had a crush on forever fess up and make a move, then you didn’t know what would.

Pink, skimpy and sheer, your pebbly nipples weren’t the only thing on full display as the see-through thong also made your puffy pussylips no secret to anyone.

Your pace as you returned to the mirror was purposefully slow, not looking to Stiles even once as you felt your desperation for him soak the pretty garments.

“T-that-, yeah,” his fluttering eyes were trained on your bare bottom, “that’s nice.”

“Yeah?” you still didn’t dare to look at him, “you think so?”

“Mhm,” he nearly groaned.

Grazing your touch ever so lightly over the elastic edges, you uttered, “you really think it’s pretty?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Stiles,” you sucked in a deep breath and gathered up the courage through the pumping adrenalin of being so exposed before your crush, “can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” flowed from his lips nearly instantly.

“Would you have sex with me?”

The room was dead silent a moment before Stiles choked, “what?”

“Would you fuck me?” you rephrased, still not looking back at him in the refection.

“Would I-… I’m sorry, what?”

“Would you fuck me?” gnawing at your bottom lips, you finally turned to face him, “because I kinda really like you, like a lot,” your feet slowly carried you closer to where he sat, “and I don’t know, I’m sorry, am I being too forward? Is this too much? Do you not like me in that way? Because I totally get it if you do, I’m really sorry for everything. I thought you’d picked up on the hints I’ve been dropping for a while now and that you-”

“I do like you!” he rushed to cut off your concern, “I-I-, yes,” seizing your hand in his as he emphasized, “yes.”

“Yes or yes?” you asked, eyes flickering to the pillow hiding his own excitement.

“Yes,” he nodded, swiftly tugging you down in his lap before you could withdraw your proposal.

An airy whimper escaped your lips as he then kissed you, your whole body feeling like puddy in his grasp. Drawing back a moment from his long-awaited pecks, you found yourself offering bashfully, “you know, I could also just give you a handjob or blow you or something if you’re not-”

Using his leverage, he suddenly flung you down against the mattress, effectively cutting your suggestion off as he scurried to hover above you, an earnest grin adorning his lips as he then exclaimed “oh my god, just shut up and let me screw my best friend.”

#lea’s writing #kinktober 2023 #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #teen wolf smut #teen wolf imagine #dylan o'brian x reader #dylan o'brian imagine #stiles x reader #stiles x y/n #stiles smut #dylan obrien fanfic #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o’brien fanfiction #dylan o’brien smut #dylan o’brien imagine #dylan o'brien imagine #stiles stilinksi fanfiction

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bananayuyu · 26 days ago

Text

Walker, Stalker

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 6.6k

Summary: The captain of the soccer team and the strange new girl who'd just moved in next door. Who would have thought that you and Yunho had the same fucked up fantasies?

Warnings: MDNI, smut, reader is short, size kink kinda, voyeurism, masturbation, sex toys, collars, stalking, degradation, mean yunho, unprotected sex, cnc vibes, please don't read if that isn't your thing!

A/n: this is inspired by that video above of Yunho walking and also this instagram post that had me losing my damn mind. @yuyusbabygirl thanks for making me insane. I hope you all enjoy <333

Read it on ao3

The air was cool and crisp the day you moved into your new dorm, campus nearly empty for spring break. As your beat up sedan pulled up to the curb you sighed, taking in the rare moment of silence.

It had been a harsh two weeks following your expulsion. And in all of the hiding and lying, you'd worn yourself thin. But what were you to do, tell the truth? If anyone here now, or anyone there then, heard the true reason for your transfer, you knew you'd never be able to show your face anywhere. Your accomplice had promised to keep his mouth shut too, promised to keep this whole thing a secret just as you had. And you had reason to believe him; his job was on the line, not just his reputation.

By then you were a jaded sophomore, already over everything about college; the power dynamics, the social expectations, the politics and bureaucracy that hung over all the professors. You'd learned too much about that, getting involved with him. It had been a bad idea, of course. But you had an insatiable need to fulfill certain fantasies, and try as you might you were never able to make the rational choice when it really mattered.

Moving in all on your own made for a tough day, but you were thankful for the solitude. Your friends and professors at your last school had been constantly asking you why for weeks; I thought you hated that school? All it's really got going for it is it's sports program.

You should have been more sad to leave them all behind; yes, you should have been, but your brain didn't seem to work the way it should, and you'd never been very attached to anyone. No one in the world could understand your true desires; and though you always tried to live as normally as you could, you'd realized this last year there was little point in truly trying to suppress it. The suppressing had only made it worse, which led to the shit storm you'd just passed through; you were determined not to make that mistake again.

The week passed in relative peace; with campus nearly empty you could walk about and get used to your new space, the new routes you'd have to take to your classes, the drive to the nearest grocery store. You'd heard mixed things about this place, but the cooler, wetter weather here meant that trees and bushes grew in abundance, and the grass by the student union building was actually soft enough to lay on. Your birthday was about to come, at the end of the week, and you resolved to buy yourself a little gift to celebrate. You'd done well to escape that potentially disastrous situation; you deserved a little treat for being so positive about the ridiculous move you'd just had to make.

You woke the morning of Friday with anticipation coursing through you, your legs and core already tingling with delight. The package wasn't set to arrive until the afternoon, so you busied yourself with what you could; going for another walk to double check your new routes, stopping by the store again to buy yourself a little cake to have with dinner. No one knew you were turning twenty today, but you didn't mind; you were going to celebrate tonight in your own way, in the way you liked, and that was all that mattered.

When you arrived back at the dorm in the mid afternoon the parking lot still looked relatively empty save for a few cars that you'd not yet seen. You had been so alone these few days, already growing used to it; but that was to change as soon as you entered the front doors and headed through the kitchen towards the stairs. As you walked past the refrigerator door slammed sharply; you jumped and peered back, locking eyes with a tall and broad man, his brown hair floppy and messily pushed back, his grey hoodie adorned with the school's bright green logo.

The eyes he fixed you with were dark and domineering, but he obviously looked surprised, seeing a new face here. The building wasn't tiny, but it wasn't huge by any means; you'd always imagined dorms to be massive enough for relative anonymity, but the one you'd been selected for housed only about twenty people, few enough that he'd certainly know everyone well by now. You snapped your eyes away from his quick and made for the stairs, your small cake clasped between your hands, your whole body trembling for some unknown reason. Maybe these few days you'd gotten so used to solitude that simply seeing another human ws scaring you; but really, if you were honest with yourself, it was something about the look in his eyes, the way they looked intense and dead all at the same time.

It was roughly an hour later that there was a knock on your door; opening it you found his face again, eyes still piercing yours when they met. Up close he looked massive, towering over you so much you had to look nearly straight up to see him, his shoulders so wide you couldn't see them all with the door only partially ajar.

"This came for you," he said, holding up your package, and your heart about fell out of your ass.

"Oh, thanks," you responded, swallowing hard, your mind racing with the knowledge of what was inside and his huge hands that somehow reached around the entire box. Your eyes fixed on the package as you grabbed it from him; your hands brushed, and a jolt of static snapped between your fingers. You jumped back, breath knocked out of you, before you stared back at him. He was staring at you too, eyebrows low, but his lips were turned up in the whisper of a smirk. You couldn't read him at all; you gaped as you watched him walk back to his room, the one right next to yours, and close his door without another word.

As you placed the package down it was obvious in an instant; there were multiple lines of tape that had graced the cardboard box, residue lines that were unmistakably in different spots that the current tape. Had he fucked with your package, had he opened it? You shook your head, feeling crazy; it was probably just a mistake that had been made at the warehouse, and the package had to be opened and taped up again. You didn't understand what it was about this guy that was shaking you so deeply. You were tired of feeling on edge, that was all the last few weeks had been. You needed to finally relax, that had been your plan for tonight; you pushed your worries from your mind and ripped open your package, immediately forgetting them all as you stared at the beauty in front of you.

A collar, with tiny spikes on the inside, that tightened if you pulled on the leash. And a stunning eight-inch dildo, purple and sparkly, a massive suction cup on the end. You'd had a routine down for months but had thrown out all your old toys during that period of suppression; now it was time to start building your collection again, and taking care of these sexual needs yourself. Your cake sat tantalizing you on your desk; but it would have to wait, you needed to try out your new toys.

You tied the leash to the back corner of your bed, making sure the rope was quite short; already the process was bringing you to the dark and sultry place your head liked to be, and you could feel yourself getting wet even before you'd grabbed the dildo, suctioning to the wall at just the right height. You started licking it, teasing it, getting lost trying to take it down your throat as far as you could; after gagging it was soaked with your spit, and in an instant you ripped off all your clothes and turned around, securing the collar around your neck carefully and tugging on the leash to make sure all was secure.

Then you positioned yourself in front of it; lining up your soaking entrance with the dildo you sunk onto it slowly, groaning at the stretch it was giving you, a sensation you hadn't felt in far too long. You liked feeling like you were splitting open from the inside, liked when it felt a bit painful, like it was too much for you to take. As you rocked forward your body weight pulled at the leash, squeezing the collar against the side of your throat deliciously, relenting slightly as you thrust back again. You started keeping a rhythm, the collar squeezing on the upswing, the dildo hitting your cervix the other way. This was what you'd needed to relax; the mix of pain and pleasure was numbing your mind just right, and as you continued to thrust your pleasure grew, your moans gentle as you tried your best to keep your volume down in this building you were no longer alone in.

You ripped several orgasms from yourself, over and over again, before you heard it. You'd lost count at that point; you were about to have another when you heard the unmistakable sound of metal creaking outside your window, and flashed up your eyes to see a grey hoodie moving past the glass, someone clearly on the fire escape outside. It all happened so fast, it didn't seem real; you didn't want to lose the pleasure you were feeling, so you started up your movements again, this time keeping your eyes trained in that direction. You'd lost it momentarily but the orgasm was building again; your mouth was slack open as you breathed hard, trying still to keep your noises soft, the tension in your core building even harder than it had earlier. This was bound to be a hard one, you knew it, and just as it started to wash over you, just as your legs began to tremble and your whole body erupted in flames of pleasure, you saw his face at the side of your window, his intense dead eyes meeting yours. Unable to stop yourself you came; right here infront of him, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, and as soon as you pulled off he vanished, his face disappearing from view.

It was undeniably awkward the next time you saw him in the kitchen, later that night, putting the left over half of your cake in the fridge. He was still in his hoodie, still looked exactly the same; you'd showered, changed, tried to wipe yourself clean of the slight debauchery of your evening. Compared to some of the things you'd done in your life it was nothing, but you were so scared of getting kicked out again, you had tried to recalibrate your understanding of where the line should really be.

He just stared at you again. No greeting, no hello, those dark eyes never leaving you as you walked past. You too, said nothing; what could you say? You were so convinced of your own insanity that you were questioning if you had really seen his face. Maybe you'd just wanted to, had hoped he'd be there watching. He was by all accounts your type; you like them huge and tall, like them to scare you and intimidate you.

Over the next weeks you learned just how intimidating he was; when he stalked around campus he could part a sea of other students, no one daring to step in his way. His shoulders swaggered and his head hung down a bit, and all it gave off was a sense of complete confidence and superiority. He dressed nice, was clearly doing well for himself. It took some time, but soon you learned he was captain of the school's soccer team, played right back, was feared by everyone, and was all that any girl around seemed to want to talk to you about.

You didn't even have to be subtle about your questions; people wanted to offer up everything they knew, from minor injuries he'd had, how the last game on the road had gone for him, who his parents were, his class schedule, everything. People on campus basically stalked him, you realized; which wasn't exactly uncommon these days, especially as he posted on socials enough to provide the dots to be connected. But to everyone he seemed uninterested in them; he barely followed anyone else, only his family and a few other boys on the team, and was never seen to be leaving comments on anyone's posts. He didn't give a fuck to know everyone else; that he'd made clear over his four years here, and as he was set to play professionally come the fall, everyone figured his attention was laser focused on his sport.

It would have shocked them all to know what really had started to fill his evenings; you had a regular schedule of masturbating, that he'd figured out right away, and it was all too easy for him to sneak out on the fire escape between your windows and catch a glimpse of you, complete ecstasy on your face as that collar bore down on your neck, your eyes rolling back. Behind your building a line of massive pine trees lay like a wall, and out here he could touch himself without a soul seeing, so long as none of the other students in this building looked out windows that faced this direction. He didn't know what had come over him, other than you'd unlocked that dark disturbed part that he'd hid away years ago; that first day he'd seen you in the kitchen he was awe-struck, your body impeccably curvy, your height minute compared to his, the slightly frightened look in your eye going straight to his crotch.

When he opened your package later and inspected the contents, his mind spun at the thought that not only was the girl who moved in next to him unbelievably hot, she was a glutton for pain, from the looks of it. Unfulfilled fantasies ran through his mind, fantasies he'd always known were wrong, disturbing. But your frightened little presence had him constantly thinking of them; he couldn't help it, he needed to know more. He'd always been one to use his computer skills for his own gain; it took a while, but he finally tracked down the name of the new girl just assigned to this dorm building a week ago, and with that he was up and running, searching far and wide to find anything he could about you.

Nothing about your family or friends was findable; you'd barely ever posted pictures with other people, but he could tell from the jump that there was something off about you, something strange about the way you'd just shown up here during spring break. He'd found the name of your old school easily; but breaking into their system would be a project, and with classes and practices of the upmost importance now, he'd have to be patient to find out why'd you'd left. Ordering you a little present, however, wouldn't take much time, and soon enough he was standing at your door and knocking again.

Not a word had passed between the two of you in weeks; just fearful and tense glances, or the fierce look you gave if you caught him in your window. You were used to it by now, and appreciated the intrusion; it added to your little escapades, and while you took time building up your toy collection again, you were grateful for it.

You opened your door as you had that first day, slowly and deliberately. As soon as you spotted him your eyes widened a bit, your grip on the handle tightening, your face turned up to look at him.

"This package came for you," he said, almost identical to your first interaction. He had to hold back laughter at the look of pure confusion that crossed your face; you hadn't ordered anything, and were positively vexed. But soon you saw the the package was addressed wrong; this address, but his room number, and the name Jeong Yunho.

You swallowed, grabbing the package from him and nearly slamming your door shut. Inside you sat on the floor, heaving. What the fuck he was playing at, you weren't sure. If this was a joke, he'd surely be knocking on your door again now, right? You set the package down and pushed it away from you, trying to collect yourself. More than ever your demeanor was one of panic and unassuredness; even with your daily ministrations you hadn't been able to completely calm yourself. You needed more, you needed to order more actual packages for yourself and get yourself off the way you needed.

You left it until evening, until your homework was done and your body was begging you to satiate it's needs. You opened it gingerly; a new collar sat inside, bright pink with a bell on it, and a long line of pink rope. As you lifted it you found a page of instructions; under that, what looked like a small box-cutting knife.

Follow these instructions, were the only words written in pen; everything else was printed, words explaining how to tie your own wrist restraint and tighten it down by pulling with your feet. You peered over at the knife, at the collar, and you could see plain as day what all this meant. For a moment you felt an almost sobering sickness come over you; the fact that this wasn't making you go and report him immediately was all the indication you needed that you hadn't really changed at all. It was in your nature, to like this kind of attention; attention you shouldn't want, attention that was wrong and invasive and all together disturbing.

You set the box aside and went to sleep that night without a bit of sexual pleasure, Yunho sticking his head around your window only to find your room dark and your small form curled up underneath your bed sheets.

He panicked, a bit, that night. Maybe it had been way too far, of course it had been way to far; what a crazy thing to do when the two of you had barely spoken any words to each other. You clearly were a bit kinky, but maybe he'd read it all wrong; maybe you weren't as depraved as him, maybe that little spiked collar didn't really hurt as bad as he thought it did. You made it a remarkable week without masturbating; your longest record in many years, and it had his edginess slowly building. You swore you could see it on him when you passed him in the kitchen or the hall; even once out by the fountain, as you walked towards the fine arts building, you saw his jaw set in tension as you walked by him, eyeing him only for a moment before turning your head away and smirking, acting with all your might like you weren't affected by him one bit.

You were only waiting to make it more fun for yourself, in the end. That Saturday you broke, doing just as the instructions had told, and as you pumped your hips back against that purple dildo the little bell on your collar rang and rang, loud enough that you worried a house mate might hear and come knocking about it. As soon as he heard rustling in your room he was up and outside; watching the whole scene unfold, watching you mess up the knot three times before finally getting it right. You eyed him nearly the whole time this time, and he didn't even reach into his pants, instead enjoying the view for all it was and stamping it permanently in his memory to use for as long as he could.

When you'd finally finished, the sun well and truly set and the air cool outside, you looked at him pathetically, the knife in hand. How you were going to get the knot off yourself, you weren't sure; even with the knife it was a struggle, for the angle your hand needed to reach was virtually impossible. You tried several times over, but failed each time; his smile grew and grew, and it was the first time you'd ever seen any expression on his face other than that of pure anger. His lips curled up at the corners slightly, his cheek bones popped; he looked positively terrifying and it made you actually whimper in response, your eyes darting away. You tried for the next hour to get the ropes cut off, but there was no way you could; you went to bed that night without peeing, your wrists still bound. There was no way to get dressed, no way in hell that you'd be leaving this room even if you could. You'd finally started to spark up a few casual friendships with two girls who lived downstairs, and on the off chance that they or anyone saw you scrambling to the bathroom, you decided to stay in.

Your sleep was fretful, but more for how turned on you were than anything; you couldn't stop putting your bound hands between your legs, feeling how fucking wet you still were, coming somehow again and again. It must have been early morning when you finally fell asleep; and then it was only a few hours later when he snuck into your room, your eyes barely opening and your consciousness barely there as he sliced you free of the restraint, running back to his room with the knife and rope in hand. All you'd felt was a large hand on yours and your restraints falling away; later when you woke you had no recollection of it, confused when you tried to find the rope and knife and couldn't see them anywhere in your small room.

Your wrists were badly bruised form it all; you'd had to wear long sleeve shirts for weeks even though the weather was heating up. The packages continued too, and you realized he was very selective with when he gave you them, only coming when the two other boys who lived down the hall from you were gone. Both were on the soccer team as well, so he knew they were at their study group for Japanese, one they never missed because the grad student who ran it was one they both had the hots for.

It was weeks of debauchery; more gifts, more collars and dildos, once a beautiful, bright pink shiny vibrator that must have cost hundreds of dollars. That became your favorite; along with the collar with the bell, which you combined with your spiked collar for the pain, you stuck that vibrator between your legs and rubbed yourself forward and back, coming harder than you had in ages. It was almost getting you there to that point you needed to be; but you still always made him wait, still never used these new toys too soon after you'd received them. His frustration was clearly only growing; a few times he'd left short notes in the boxes, I own you or Your secret is safe with me, slut. But you never responded to them, never said a thing. You eyed him if you passed by, by chance; but by then he was starting to try to strike up conversation with you. You never responded, only looked at him with those pathetic scared eyes and maybe scratched at your arm, pulling back the fabric of your shirt to reveal your bruises, or wore a low cut top and pushed your tits together "accidentally," eyeing him afterwards.

Suddenly the term was almost over, and you couldn't believe it; you weren't doing amazingly by any means, but you were set to pass all of your classes, as long as you didn't bomb any finals. It was a stressful week but you made it through, barely thinking of Yunho and his gifts, not having time for it.

"How are your finals going?" he asked you when you passed him on the stairs; you only ran away, sprinting up to your room, closing the door quickly. Later a note slid under your door; stop pretending like you can run from me. You only chuckled at it, slipping inside and taping it in your journal. He loved to be threatening in his notes or with the looks he gave you, but you were pretty sure at this point he didn't have the balls to actually do anything about it. On the whole it was probably a good thing; summer was about to come, and you'd stay to complete extra credits, but he'd be gone for good and graduated, and you'd never have to worry that he'd get you in trouble all over again.

"The final soccer game of the season is this Saturday, you should come!" your two friends told you as you sipped coffees in the student union building, your last final behind you.

"Wait, tomorrow Saturday?" you asked, and they nodded.

"I know you don't like to come out on the weekends but they're so fun, and the dance team performs during half time, they have fireworks usually for the last game of the year too. And there's always a big party afterwards at the huge frat by the stadium, Wooyoung texted me yesterday about it," one said, voice bright as can be.

"Wooyoung?" you asked.

"Wait, you seriously don't know who Wooyoung is?" she asked you.

"No, should I?" you said, trying to keep the sarcasm from your tone.

"He's the one who lives in the room next to Yunho's, just down the hall from you," she said, and it brought forth the image of long shaggy black hair and chiseled abs, the boy loving to walk around half naked whenever he had the chance.

"Oh, yeah, of course," you laughed, smiling at her.

"You should come to the party, seriously, it's so much fun," your other friend added.

"I don't love frat houses-"

"This one isn't like most of them, seriously, it's very nice and the parties are always actually fun," she said, cutting you off.

"I'll think about it," you chuckled, thinking of the healing bruises on your neck, your last bout with your collar having been a bit on the rough side. What you'd wear to the game and party to cover it all up, you had no idea.

But by Saturday you'd thought enough about it, and with the stress of finals behind you, there was enough of your brain trying to push you towards the health and normality of being involved in college life that you decided to go. You'd wear your favorite green hoodie; it wasn't officially school merch, but the color was close enough, and it covered the fading bruises on the side of your neck well enough. Paired with short spandex shorts and your white tennis shoes, you looked preppy and in spirit enough to fit in. The bus to the stadium was uncomfortably packed but your friends knew the best seats; they ushered you through everywhere with ease because they came for every game, and thankfully didn't make you sit in the student section like you'd expected.

Down near one of the corners you had a wonderful view, and as the players started to exit the tunnel the stands erupted in rumbling, everyone stamping their feet against the metal bleachers and waving school flags high and proud. Most of the players ran out; but then you spotted Yunho with a number nine on his back, walking in that way he always did, his shoulders swaying, his eyes fixed to the ground some distance in front of him, his jersey hanging off his lean broad frame in the most tantalizing way. His swagger from his angle was too much to handle; his back to you, you knew he had no idea you were there, would never expect it. He looked massive next to the other players; you didn't know much about the sport, but looking down now it seemed like soccer wasn't typically played by tall guys. His frame was a scary sight to the other team, it was obvious; as the game started it seemed they all dreaded when they came into contact with him, and as the minutes rolled on by you couldn't help the visceral reaction you were having to seeing just how good he was.

After a while, a whistle was blown; players started walking off the field as the dance team walked on, and your friend answered your look of confusion by telling you it was halftime. Like before most of the players ran back to the tunnel, but Yunho walked behind, talking with one of the coaches. He was facing you now and you stared at his face, flushed a bit but set in such a stony look of concentration. Suddenly he turned his head as if to stretch his neck; he caught sight of you, and he stopped momentarily in his tracks, doing a double take. His coach seemed to asked him what he'd seen; he looked away quickly and waved his hand while undoubtedly saying it was nothing. But the whole second half he was shooting daggers your way; now that the two teams had switched sides he was mostly facing you, and somehow even so far away you felt yourself shivering under his glare, the intensity of it not lost no matter how big the distance between you was.

Fine, you'd said, agreeing to go to the party. Your friends were so excited as you'd never been out with them before, and you too were excited if you really were honest, having missed letting loose a little, getting in the spirit of the true college experience. You had sworn you hated it all a few months ago; but that was before and during expulsion, when everything was blowing up in your face. As strange as it had felt you'd enjoyed the game, and as your friends showed you the way across the street, you were baffled by just how many people were walking that way with you, this house no doubt very large.

You all waited for a while in the backyard, the house apparently not ready for action just yet. Behind the frat was a large forest, and already people were drinking beers they'd snuck from the stadium, the air buzzing with anticipation. Finally the back doors were opened; there stood the entire soccer team, most still in part or all of their jersey's, and the group in the backyard cheered for them, their effort tonight apparently something worth celebrating. You weren't even sure if they'd won; you were preoccupied, and knew so little about most sports that it was hard to keep up. But you were having fun, the whole point of the evening.

It got off to a comfortable start, and you were feeling good with these two girls, giggling about your lack of knowledge as you sipped a seltzer, your first drink out in too long. Inside the house was beautiful, and though it was filled with many people you weren't being bothered. You fell into a calm state, almost forgetting any reason to be worried; that was until you spotted Yunho plodding down the stairs, clearly having showered, his hair only slightly damp and his clothes fresh and clean.

You were sure he hadn't spotted you, as your height often kept you hidden in groups. But you couldn't have been more wrong; as soon as he made it to the floor he was walking towards the kitchen, then back to greet everyone in a slow dance of moving closer and closer to you and your little group.

"Can we move outside?" you asked them, sensing the danger, his head sticking up above most of the rest of the crowd. He wasn't being obvious by any means, but you could see it; he was sneaking glances at you, was keeping an eye on your whereabouts the whole time.

"Yeah, you feeling hot?" one asked you.

"Yeah, and I can't take my hoodie off, I didn't wear anything under it," you joked, using the excuse she'd just put in your lap to cover up the real reason you wanted to move. As you three snaked between people you caught his eye only briefly; it was a blunt and scary look, and you could almost see the fires lighting in his brain, his anger at your movement so obvious. But you were just doing what felt right; just following your gut, following the instincts inside you.

Once outside you resumed sipping your drinks and chatting away; a few other people had already had the same idea as you, though everyone stuck to the paved area out back, the forest now dark and spooky with the sun fully set. Things were peaceful again for a moment, the air still and quiet out here, only the distant call of some bird disturbing the silence.

But then he exited the house too; now he was stalking towards you, unmistakably, his eyes fixed on you as he swayed the way he always did, his steps deliberate and strong and fast, his gaze as dead and dark as you'd ever seen it. Before you could register what was happening he grabbed you by the arm; your seltzer flew off into the bushes and you scrambled to keep up with him.

"I'm tired of these fucking games," he growled, his grip tight and painful.

"What games?" you whispered, running along to keep up with his huge strides, your eyes wide as you looked at him.

"You know what fucking games," he said, voice low and dark as you both stumbled onto the grass, the forest coming into view in all of it's darkness and mystery.

"What- what are you doing?" you asked, trying to pull away from him now, the grip starting to feel truly painful even though the sleeve of your hoodie was protecting your arm.

"What the fuck do you think?" he spit, spinning you around and hitting your back against the trunk of a tree, his features almost obscured in the faint light from the house behind.

"I- I don't know," you cried as he pinned your wrists together with one hand, holding them in front of you as he caged you in against the tree.

"Don't pretend like you didn't know what you were doing tonight," he growled, face only inches from yours now.

"I d-don't know what you m-mean," you stuttered, your body trembling hard now, your chest rising and falling fast as your breaths became almost hyperventilation.

"Coming to my last game? The most important game all season? Distracting me on the one day I needed to be perfect??"

"I had no idea, I-"

"You love to act all innocent, don't you?" he said, looking down at your outfit, something he'd seen so many freshman girls wearing.

"I'm not trying to," you responded, your blood pumping through you fast, your body alight with adrenaline. You tried wrenching your hands free; you felt strong, but it was no match for his strength, and he only doubled down on his grip, nearly crushing your wrist bones. "Ow, ow," you cried, trying to use your body weight to your advantage, only hurting yourself in the process.

"I bet that's turning you on, isn't it?" he spit, running his free hand over your parted lips, your eyes wide and your whole body cowering from him.

"N-no, not at all," you all but whispered, trying to steady your breathing.

"You're not a good liar, you know," he growled, face closer and closer to yours, before his lips smashed over yours and he fully crushed you against the hard bark of the tree, ravaging you.

Your breath was knocked from your throat in an instant; your body was tingling with excitement, every bit of you so happy that he'd finally broke, finally taken matters into his own hand. You hated to be the one responsible; you liked that this was his fault, that whatever messed up shit was about to unfold was his responsibility. You continued to twist and pull at him, but only enough to egg him on more; really you wanted this, your thin shorts already soaked, your hips bucking against his thigh that was pressed between your legs.

"See, I knew you liked it," he said, pulling back harshly, biting at your bottom lip. You let out a squeal of pleasure at that; it was hard enough that now you tasted blood, and the sharp metallic taste was making your head spin even more. You had no words to retaliate with; he chuckled in knowing he'd won, spinning you around and pulling at your shorts, pushing them down your legs just far enough to see your flushed pussy glistening at him, barely illuminated.

"Wait, not out here, they can all see-"

You were cut off by his cock slamming into you, the feeling more painful that pleasurable at first, and you let out a guttural scream, Yunho's hand coming up to cover your mouth as he pulled back and pounded into you slowly again.

"I know what you did with that professor, doll. I know you like when people are watching," he growled in your ear, hips slamming into yours repeatedly, your cunt struggling to adjust to the size of him. He was somehow bigger than that dildo you'd been using; how you were taking him without any warm up you had no idea. Your wetness was no doubt helping, but the severity of the feeling was leaving you almost limp against the tree, as you clung on to the bark for dear life and tried with your might not to collapse.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted behind you, hand still on your mouth, the other pushing on your back and holding you against the tree in front of you. It was only another few strokes and you were coming undone; squeezing down on him sharply, your legs shaking and making it even harder to stand. The pain inside was now met with a sweet warmth, your whole body erupting in shakiness as the pleasure rolled through you. Your eyes rolled back, and then closed; you forgot entirely where you were in the darkness as he fucked you to that pleasure again, this time his hot load filling you, trailing down your legs after he'd pulled out.

He scooped you up as you started to collapse, your hands and face scratched from the tree bark, your shorts completely and obviously stained. You were slack against him, your head resting against his shoulder as he carried you bridal style; only a few more steps and he was lowering you into his car, driving you both back to your dorm. Again he carried you upstairs; it was totally empty, thankfully, for everyone was still at the frat party down the road. He cleaned you up in the bathroom, put a bandaid over a particularly bad cut on your left hand. You'd had to respond to some very worried texts from your two friends, assuring them you were home and fine; you knew that there'd be far more explaining to do the next few days.

You fell asleep as he cradled you in his bed; you felt at peace, finally seeing the way he kept things, feeling like you were stepping into a part of his mind and getting to have a look around. Calm, you felt so calm that night, finally; you were quite sad now that he'd be leaving so soon, and had a sinking feeling that you'd never meet someone who understood your fantasies as much as he did.

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #yunho x reader #yunho smut #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #dark fic

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moody-alcoholic · 2 months ago

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Cross My Heart

Part 6 - How to Infiltrate a Terror Cell

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: Violence, sexual remarks/touching, use of weapons, description of injuries, implied torture, blood, death.

AN: This one really got away from me. These mini fics are supposed to be 'short' and easy to write.

Previous parts - masterlist - next

AO3

Enjoy <3

It's the worst idea you’ve ever heard. But here you are nodding at Price while he lays out the plan.

“First things first we need to confirm Konni have Alex. Then we focus on Makarov.”

“I know one of the guards who works in the prison wing. He’ll be my way in.” You explain.

“Makarov will be harder. He's always surrounded by his best soldiers. I can probably find out what he's doing here but as for getting an audience with him or even getting near him it’s going to be next to impossible.” You explain. Price hums laying back on the sofa.

“Find out why he's here then we get Alex out. Rendezvous with the ULF and make a plan from there.” Price says.

“As soon as we spring Alex that's it. There's no way I will be getting back in there.” You say raising an eyebrow.

“That's why it's important you get as much Intel before getting him out.” You nod standing up.

“Here.” Gaz says coming over to you and handing you a USB. You take it raising an eyebrow.

“Plug it into any computer and it will copy all the files over.” He says, you nod at him, he lingers for longer then he needs to. Maybe he’s warming up to you too.

“When you find Alex, tell him 141 sent you. He’ll know to trust you.”

“Are you sure?” You ask sceptical. You know if they’ve been trying to get info out of him it’s very unlikely he will trust you, or anyone for that matter of fact. You might have to resort to dragging him out.

“I’m sure.” You sigh looking out the window. The sun is coming up. You should leave sooner rather than later, it’s a few miles back to the border, wait any longer and the story you’ve constructed might not make sense. You go over to pull your jacket on.

“I should get going.”

“We’ll be waiting at the rendezvous point.” price says. You nod looking round the room. Maybe they won’t wish you luck. Maybe they don’t mind if you die, one less thing for them to worry about.

“Good luck.” Gaz calls. That you didn’t expect. You smile at him.

...

“You said Farah’s forces where moving north not fucking marines.” You snap at your handler, Ivan. He called for you as soon as you made it into the base. It was early morning, most people had gone to meet Makarov's entourage, apparently, the place was running on a skeleton crew.

Good, easier for you.

“The packages?”

“Dead.”

“Shit, they were tech specialists, Al Qatala needed them.”

“Explains why they were shit lookouts.” You mutter under your breath. The other man in the room catches that and you look over at him. You don’t recognise him, he’s barely said a word since you entered the room. Just looks at you now and then from over his laptop.

“Why did they let you live?” He asks, his accent is thicker, he’s not from round here. Maybe he’s not even Russian at all.

“I patched up one of their injured. They let me live.”

“Which way did they go?”

“West.” You lie. Both the men look at eachother then back down at the map.

“Sakhra?” Ivan asks.

“Makes sense If they have one injured they’ll want to head to a neutral hospital or a ULF. The Americans have been getting too close to the border for my liking.” The other man says shrugging.

“How sure are you that they're heading west?”

“I overheard them talking before they left.” You explain.

“Well, I have to deal with a very angry Al Qatala contact. You better get yourself ready. Makarov will have jobs for you I'm sure.” Ivan says.

“Wouldn't want to fuck them up.” The other man says.

“What's he doing here? Makarov?” You ask as the Ivan turns away.

“Not really any of your business but let's just say he's planning a nice surprise for the ULF. And now we have an American who knows all their movements there's no way we miss.” The other man says.

“Has he talked?”

“Not yet, but he will. The Butchers on his way. A little gift from Al Qatala.” Ivan says. Shit. You have to move quick if you’re going to get him out here it has to be now. You leave the room, closing the door behind you. Before you head to the prison wing you skip into the handlers office. He never locks it, he's going to regret that.

You plug the USB into the computer and a loading bar starts. You look round the desk, looking at the papers for anything interesting. Your heart is hammering in your chest, you keep looking up to the door hoping no one will come in.

You look back at the PC, it's only 50% done. You start to look through the drawers for anything, even if it is just to keep you busy. You see plans, plans for some kind of weapon. You take them out, folding them up and shove them into your pocket.

The transfer is almost done. You hear a door close, you’re holding your breath, your hands run over the papers on the desk. You hear the Ivan's voice 90%. You panic, he’s probably coming to his office, you need to distract him. You go round to the other side of the desk leaning against it. You hear a beep on the computer, the USB must be done, you reach over pulling it out and shoving it in the pocket with the papers.

You only just manage to compose yourself as he walks in. A smile grows on his face. He walks up to you, his hand resting on your hip.

“You’ve got me in a whole bunch of trouble. Least you could do is make it worth my while.” He says, you can smell the vodka on his breath as he leans in to kiss your neck. You don’t have time for this, one of his hands slips round to grab your ass. It’s like he wants to pick you up and put you on the desk.

“Ivan,” you breath as his hand presses dangerously close to the other back pocket. He pulls his mouth off your neck. “I have stuff to do.”

“Yeah you do.” He says with that stupid grin on his face before pressing his lips onto you. Normally you wouldn’t mind but you’re about to betray him this feels wrong. You push him off you. He huffs crossing his arms.

“I really have to get ready. Besides, don't you have to prepare for our special VIP?” You say, he tips his head to the side you can tell he’s not happy about this. He steps away walking round to the other side of his desk and you turn with him.

“Fuck Makarov, this whole plan is pointless. The American is not going to talk, he’s rushing into this too quickly.”

“What does he want?” You ask, maybe now you’re alone he’ll give you some more answers.

“He wants to take over the northern territories.”

“Of Urzikstan?” Ivan nods. “He’s crazy, he’ll turn Al Qatala against him.”

“He wants to use it as a bargaining chip.” he says.

“Not going to be much bargaining if he’s dead.” You scoff crossing your arms. That explains why he’s so nonchalant about upsetting Al Qatala, when Makarov is done, lost techs will be the least of their worries.

“On top of that he’s got us chasing some military unit helping Farah.” Your stomach sinks.

“Military unit?” You ask, swallowing the nerves.

“Yeah 141 or something. Anyway, I’ve had people looking for them for weeks. We don’t even know if they’re still in the country.” He says going to type on his computer. You need to leave. Get Alex and leave.

“Well, if I find them I’ll let you know.” You say heading for the door. He chuckles.

“Hey.” He calls as you’re about to close the door. “You’ll be back later right? I’ve missed you.” He hasn’t missed you, he’s missed sex. You smile and nod at him.

…

“You look like shit.” Caleb says offering you the last of his cigarette. You take it sucking a deep breath in and letting it calm you. It didn’t take you long to walk over to the prison building, of course Caleb was already waiting for you, he waved at you when he saw you walk through the front gate.

“Heard you fucked your job.” He chuckles.

“Hear a lot with those massive ears of yours.” You say reaching up to flick him. He bats your hand away. “Thought you would be out with the others going to pick up Makarov?”

“Fuck that.” He laughs, you smile, throwing the butt on the floor and stamping it out. You follow him back into the prison wing. It’s not really a prison, this whole building used to be a school or something, it’s been abandoned for years. Well until Konni and Makarov took it over.

“Heard you’ve got an American here?” You ask looking round at the shabby built cells.

“Yeah.” He says pointing down the hall. There are at least two other guards. Hopefully you can get Caleb to turn a blind eye, then you only need to worry about them. And the guards on the gate, and the extra security that will come after you as soon as they know there’s been a break out.

“Heard The Butchers coming to question him.”

“Oof, unlucky guy.” He winces. You walk down a different hall with him. There are only a few people in the makeshift cells, most of them are converted offices.

“Anyway, how did you manage to mess up your job?”

“Marines came in and caught me off guard. No one warned me there were Americans around.” You say sticking to the made up story.

“At least you’ve been out doing something. Ivan has the whole place on edge with this Makarov visit. Maybe it’s good you came back early. Calm him down.” He jokes nudging you. You roll your eyes. Nudging him back. It’s just sex, mindless stupid sex. And yeah maybe Ivan looks away when you fuck up from time to time, like today.

“What did he get bored of the cook house girl?” You tease back, Caleb laughs. You walk on a little further mustering up the confidence to ask him. You have to be careful, out of anyone you want Caleb to get hurt the least. You’re going to miss your chats with him.

“I need a favor.” You say stopping him and gripping his arm. He frowns at you, he seems to sense the unease in your voice looking around before leaning in closer to you.

“The American. I need to talk to him. 30 seconds alone.” You say trying your best not to sound nervous.

“Are you crazy? Ivan’s got that shit locked down. No one is allowed to look in his direction let alone talk to him.” Caleb whispers gripping your arm.

“I’ll deal with Ivan.” You say. “You owe me, remember?” He shakes his head.

“Not this, they’ll kill me if anything happens to him.”

“You owe me.” You say again this time gritting your teeth, you don’t exactly have time to negotiate. He sighs looking around.

“30 seconds. No more.” He says. You smile reaching up and kissing his cheek.

“Thank you.” He shakes his head and calls the other guards over. You move past them pretending to head for the exit before turning down the hall where Caleb pointed earlier. You take the key off the wall opening the door. There’s a man sitting on the bed. He springs up as soon as you step in.

“I was sent by 141. Are you Alex?” You ask, holding your arms out. He nods, frowning, as well as he can, his head is bruised and one of his eyes is swollen. The few clothes they’ve left him in are drenched through and he’s holding his other arm like it’s broken. “I’m here to get you out. I don’t have time to explain, you just need to trust me.” You say leaving the room. He hesitates a second then follows you. You go over to the guards table and pick up a weapon, loading it and putting another mag in your pocket.

“Can you walk?” You ask, trying to keep an eye on the door Caleb would have taken the guards through. As soon as they see you they’ll open fire and sound the alarm. You need to leave. You start to head towards the door, clicking the safety off your gun. You quickly look behind you to make sure Alex is following, he is but too slow for your liking.

Before you can tell him to hurry the door at the end of the room opens. A guard looks at you, his eyes then flick to Alex. You don’t have time to think you bring the weapon up and shoot him.

Move! Your brain screams. The shot will have alerted people. Alex makes it over you and you practically drag him through the door out into the courtyard. A shot rings out and you pull him round the side of a building. You look back to see Caleb shouting orders as more guards run round.

You look over at the entrance of the base. It’s close but you have to get over the wall, which means you’re going to have to fight.

“We’re going to have to hop that wall. Think you can manage that?” You ask as you turn to Alex. He nods and opens his mouth but before he has a chance to say anything more shots ring out hitting the wall where you’re hiding.

It’s now or never. You jump out from behind the building and sprint across to the wall. You hear Caleb call your name as you throw yourself over the wall rolling down the embankment. You hear Alex groan out in pain, he’s definitely got something broken. You get to your knees watching him writhe in pain. You don’t have time for this. Alarms ring out. Now you really don’t have time for this. You look over to the entrance. The gates are being locked. Great now you’re going to need to get keys.

At least that's easy to do if the person is dead. You reach over gripping Alex’s arm pulling him to his feet. He cries out in pain, you don’t have time to worry about it as more shots ring out. You can see Caleb running across towards you, you pull Alex over the drain and up the opposite embankment. You let go of his arm to open fire on the guards in front of you. There’s only two of them, at the gate.

You take cover behind the inspection booth, Alex kneels down beside you. You hand him your gun.

“I need to get a key, cover me.” You say. You don’t know if you trust him, or if he’ll even be a good shot but he’s better than nothing. He nods, you crawl out over to one of the bodies. Shots ring out behind you. Well he’s not killed you yet. You fumble around the guards belt and pockets. Nothing.

“Shit!” you call crawling over to the other guard out in the open. More shots ring out, from in front and behind you. Alex must have picked up a weapon off the guard. You find the ring of keys clipped on the guards belt. Your hands are shaking from adrenaline as you try to unhook them.

“Watch out!” Alex shouts. You don’t get time to look up before someone kicks you in the back. You look over at Alex fumbling with a mag. A shot rings out and he ducks behind the booth just in time.

“Fuck.” You say pulling yourself to your feet. You’re surprised the person lets you get up. Before you can turn though a pain radiates in your side.

It’s worse than anything you’ve ever felt before. Have you been shot? When you finish turning you see a guard. Before you have time to react his head explodes into and he lands beside you. You look over at Alex, he’s still fumbling with the clip.

You turn to see Caleb bringing his weapon down to his side, he looks sad, he’s your friend and you're betraying him. You reach down to touch where the pain is. Your head is swimming, your hands feel blood, then cold metal. There’s a knife, you’ve been stabbed.

“No!” you yell at Alex as he comes back from round the booth, his weapon drawn. Caleb holds up the keys, you smile at him. He pushes past you, opening the gate. You stumble over, each step sending shooting pains through your body.

“You owe me!” Caleb says as he throws his arm around you. You lean up against him as he half drags you into the tree line.

“On the other side of the tree line. There’s a truck.” You say switching to English.

“Rescue?” Caleb asks in English, you smile crying out in pain as you step over a fallen tree.

“That's where 141 are waiting.” You say, it’s getting harder to focus, at least the sound of the alarm from the base isn’t ringing in your ears.

“How do you know 141?” Alex asks as he watches round you, his weapon still drawn.

“It’s a long story.” You say breathless. You want to pull the knife out, it hurts so much. You know you shouldn't though. Not until you have something to pack the wound with.

“Just keep going.” Caleb says, hitching you up tighter to him as you start to stumble. You can barely see what’s happening, the forest becoming a mix of blurry greens and browns. It feels like you’ve been walking for miles when you hear the engine of a truck. It makes your adrenaline spike, giving you a brief moment of clarity as you make it to the edge of the tree line.

“It’s them!” You hear the familiar Scottish accent. The sun blinds you as you make it through the trees.

“Shit, what happened?” You hear someone ask, there are more hands on you now. You’re picked up.

“Who are you?” A gun clicks.

“Caleb, friend.” Is all you manage to say. You hear whoever is holding you curse under his breath. You’re pulled into the back of the truck on the floor. It makes you cry out again, your hand going to your wound. There’s banging and clattering. You don't have time to question how they got their hands on an military truck.

“Hey, lass, c’mon stay with us we’ll get you sorted.” It’s Soap. You look out through the back of the truck, you can see Price with his hand on Alex’s shoulder, Gaz taking the weapon out Caleb's hand. Then you see it in the distance, a truck.

Price notices it too. He helps Alex get in the truck next to you, closing the back.

“Ghost, let's move!” He shouts. Gaz has vanished, you hear a door slam. Price pulls himself in the truck holding his arm out for Caleb. It doesn’t matter though.

Shots ring out, they hit the truck, you see Price duck, then the flash of blood. Caleb's hit, his body goes limp and falls to the floor as the truck pulls away.

You’re not sure what happens next. Your scream fills the air as you watch Caleb's body get smaller covered in the dirt kicked up by the truck. Someone is pressing your body down. Suddenly Price is leaning over you, more shots ring out hitting the truck. You feel tears stream down your face. You got him killed, the only person you didn’t want to get hurt.

“Alex! Cover fire!” You watch as Price hands him an AR, they both move down to the end of the truck returning fire. Your body is being flung from side to side as the truck drives out the forest and onto a road.

You don’t care what happens now, you don’t care if you die. You did your job, you got Alex out. You close your eyes letting out a breath.

“No, no, no! Eyes open c’mon!” It’s Soap again. Your eyes snap open as he shakes you. The gunfire dies down, maybe you’ve lost them. Maybe they won’t follow you out on a main road.

“Caleb.” You say. “His name was Caleb.” Soap frowns for a second then lets out a sigh.

“Johnny.” He says.

“Nice to meet you Johnny.” You smile. He smiles back. You can’t stay awake anymore. Your head is spinning, black spots fade into your vision. He calls out to you, shaking you but you just can’t stay awake. Your last thought is of Caleb as everything goes black.

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saffusthings · 29 days ago

Text

second chances

mob boss! lando norris x reader

part six: don't blink

word count: 1.7k

warnings: drugs, guns, etc.

five | six | seven

The meeting took place in the dead of night. The warehouse reeked of oil and salt, the kind of place that had seen more quiet deals than loud violence—but only because Lando made sure it stayed that way. The nondescript building sat on the outskirts of the city, just far enough from prying eyes but still close enough to keep the supply chain moving. The docks were always a safe bet for these types of transactions, close enough to escape routes, far enough from prying eyes. It wasn’t the usual spot—Lando never used the same place twice for transactions of this scale — but it served its purpose tonight.

Inside, the heavy industrial lights cast an eerie glow over the concrete floor, highlighting the long steel table in the center. Atop it, neatly packaged in vacuum-sealed pouches, sat the newest product in Lando’s empire—a refined, near-clinical version of what the market had been fumbling toward for years. It was stronger, purer, and unlike anything available right now.

And more importantly, it was safe. Or at least, as safe as a drug could be when it was designed to rewrite the limits of what the human body could handle. Something that, if handled properly, would flood the market with unprecedented demand.

Lando had spent months orchestrating this—choosing the right chemists, ensuring purity, eliminating leaks before they could even think about forming. He wasn’t a fool. He knew power came not from quantity, but from control.

And this? This was control.

Max Fewtrell stood at his right, an ever-watchful shadow, while Max Verstappen lingered a few paces to Lando’s left, arms crossed, looking like he was waiting for someone to make the mistake of pissing him off. Fewtrell looked around, scanning everything, analyzing, making sure no one got ideas. Verstappen stood like a coiled spring, ready to break someone’s skull if necessary.

Lando stood at the head of the table, calm, collected, hands resting idly in the pockets of his suit. Across from him was his contact, a man from overseas — tall, well-dressed, sharp-eyed, but ultimately an opportunist. Someone looking for power more than longevity.

Lando had no interest in short-sighted men. But he did have an interest in control. And control meant making sure this product made it into the right hands at the right time.

As Lando gave him a once over, stormy dark eyes seemingly pulling him apart, their prospective buyer shifted uneasily. He was flanked by two of his own men, the display a blatant attempt at controlling the situation, but they weren’t the ones in control of this meeting.

Lando was. He always was.

One of the men—a middle-aged bastard with a scar cutting across his cheek — nodded to a subordinate, who stepped forward with a case of cash.

Max Fewtrell took a measured step closer, his presence a warning. On Lando’s other side, Max Verstappen cracked his knuckles, a silent promise of what would happen if things went sideways. Lando had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

Overdramatic idiot, that one.

But above, unseen, Oscar Piastri watched through the scope of his rifle.

Lando never did these deals without oversight. Oscar – Wink, as the underworld called him, was Lando’s insurance. If anything went wrong, if anyone tried to play games, one silent shot from above would be the last thing they ever experienced. The last thing they’d see would be a single eye peering at them through the scope of a sniper.

Well, they don’t call him Wink for nothing.

“I hear impressive things,” the Austrian man said, tapping a knuckle against one of the pouches. His accent was thick but precise, every syllable measured. “But impressive means nothing until I see it work.”

Lando tilted his head, glancing toward Max Fewtrell, who stood just behind him, quiet but ever-watchful. Max understood without a word, stepping forward to grab a small plastic bag filled with an off-white powder – Noxium.

“We tested it in-house,” Lando said smoothly. “With results that exceeded expectations. But I understand your need for proof.” He gestured lightly. “You brought someone, I assume?”

The man snapped his fingers, and from behind him, one of his own men stepped forward—less polished, more desperate.

A junkie, most likely. Someone easy to replace.

Lando despised that kind of recklessness. Still, he made no move to stop it.

Max Fewtrell handed over the packet, and within seconds, the man across from him was watching closely as his disposable lackey took the dose. The reaction was immediate—a sharp inhale, eyes dilating, spine straightening. Then a slow, reverent exhale as the effects settled.

No seizures. No convulsions. No overdose.

Just control.

The businessman, Toto, grinned widely. “Very nice.”

The truth was, this new strain wasn’t just stronger. It was the kind of product that would put every other supplier out of business. It hit hard, but clean. No messy overdoses, no unpredictability. Hard to mimic but easy to use – making it the perfect competitive advantage in a market that Lando Norris technically wasn’t supposed to touch.

But who the hell was going to stop him?

Toto exhaled, considering. “You understand, of course, that something this pure will draw attention.”

“Everything worthwhile does,” Lando replied. “The question is whether you want to be the one profiting from it.”

Toto studied him, weighing his options. He wasn’t stupid, so he knew Lando didn’t ask for business. He chose his partners.

Still, the older man had to push.

“Your rules,” Toto said carefully. “They limit the market.”

Lando didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.

“No kids,” he said, voice calm. Absolute. “No collateral.”

Toto tilted his head. “You could make twice as much if you loosened those restrictions.”

Lando’s fingers drummed once against the table before he leaned forward. The shift was subtle, but the air in the room seemed to constrict.

“I could kill you right now,” Lando murmured, voice dangerously light. “And still make twice as much. Yet here we are, hm?”

The silence that stretched suddenly felt a lot cooler. Slowly, carefully, the older man exhaled and sat back. “Understood.”

Lando’s lips barely curved. He already knew the deal was done. “Under my rules then,” he emphasized.

The man blinked. “Excuse me?”

Lando stepped forward, slow and deliberate, voice even but laced with something cold underneath.

“You don’t sell to kids,” he said. “You don’t cut it with your own shit to stretch it. And you don’t move it anywhere I don’t want it going.” He tilted his head, gaze unwavering. “Break one of those, and we have a problem.”

The man’s jaw tightened. “You don’t make it easy, do you?”

Lando smiled, before leaning close to whisper in Toto’s ear. “I don’t have to.”

A tense silence settled.

“I suppose we have a deal, then.”

Lando’s gaze flickered to the case of cash. Max Fewtrell bent down, inspecting it with practiced precision before giving a short nod.

All clear.

But just as Toto was about to extend his hand, another man — young, overeager, stupid—stepped forward.

“We’ll need more,” Antonelli said abruptly. “Bigger shipments. Faster turnaround.”

Lando lifted a brow. “That’s not how I operate.”

The young man, Kimi, scoffed. “We are paying. You work on our timeline.”

The air in the warehouse shifted.

Lando exhaled slowly, then took a single step forward, close enough that the other man realized too late the mistake he had made.

“My business,” Lando said, voice deceptively calm, “runs on my terms. You want my product, you're gonna haf'ta play by my rules.” He tilted his head slightly. “And my first rule?”

A beat of silence.

Then, coolly, “No selling to fucking kids.”

The young man stiffened.

Lando’s expression didn’t change, but there was something dangerous in his eyes. The kind of look that made men rethink their decisions.

“Anyone caught selling to them?” Lando continued. “Well.” He smiled, slow and sharp. “You saw what happened to the last guy.”

Silence. “So you can imagine,” Lando paused, absentmindedly flicking a spec of dirt from underneath his fingernail, “what happens who don’t know their fucking place.”

After a long pause, Toto chuckled, clapping a hand on the young Kimi’s shoulder. “You heard the man. We can do things his way.”

Kimi swallowed hard, and nodded once.

Lando let the tension hang for another second, then stepped back, returning to his usual, composed demeanor.

Max Verstappen leaned in slightly, voice lowered. “That one’s a problem.”

“Not yet,” Lando murmured, before stepping forward to finally seal this deal and get out of here. But before they could shake on it, a sound crackled softly through Lando’s earpiece — an almost imperceptible click.

A warning.

Only one person in the world used that signal.

Oscar Piastri was positioned on the rooftops, hidden beneath the shadows, his scope trained on the situation below. He had been silent the whole night—calm, efficient, watching. If he was speaking now, even in code, it meant something was wrong.

Lando’s expression didn’t change, but his fingers flexed slightly beside his pocket, a miniscule twitch unnoticeable to the untrained eye — his own silent response.

Oscar’s voice crackled in his ear, barely above a whisper.

“Two behind. Not ours.”

Lando didn’t hesitate. His gaze slid to Max Verstappen, who had already straightened, fingers flexing at his side where his gun rested beneath his jacket.

Lando turned back to his guest, expression eerily even, his mouth pressed into a straight line as he tilted his head and glared daggers into them. “Seems we have company.”

The man blinked, then frowned, about to speak—

Thwip.

A muffled thud. A body crumpling behind the foreigner before the sound of the suppressed shot could even settle.

Oscar didn’t miss.

Before the second intruder could react, Max Verstappen was already moving. He didn’t hesitate—just swung around and fired a single, deafening shot. The second man collapsed, and the room fell into stillness.

Lando exhaled slowly, deliberately, before turning back to his guest.

“As I was saying,” he continued smoothly, as if nothing had happened, “control is everything.” He eyed the now pale-faced man across from him. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

A beat.

Toto swallowed thickly and had no choice but to nod. “Y-Yes,” he stammered. “Yes, of course.”

Lando smiled, but it was colder than any smirk could have hoped to have been.

“Good, so we understand each other then!” he said, voice full of faux politeness. Dark brown eyes hardened as his smile turned into a sneer.

Bastards, the lot of them.

“Pleasure doin' business with you.”

#formula 1 fic #formula 1 #saffu's works #lando #lando norris #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando x you #lando imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris x you #ln4

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cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme · 9 months ago

Note

meh why not. Honkai Star Rail X reader incorrect quotes when you have the time because I forgot you wrote for them.

I had a blast with this. Also, a special thanks to @tragedy-of-commons for reading these over.

Now! Your Wish Is My Command! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Natasha: You need to stop drinking so many energy drinks. Seele: You're one to talk. Natahsha: The last patient who refused to stop drinking energy supplements after I suggested it died. Seele: Oh no. Natasha: In a car crash. You: That sounds unrelated. Natasha: I’m the one who crashed it. Do not disobey me.

You: Why do you two like being out in the rain so much? Screwllum: I like splashing in the puddles and rain is just fun! Ruan Mei: I'm trying to get hit by lightning for my research.

Sparkle: I’ve been here in jail so long I think I’ve lost my mind. Sparkle: The days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months. Sparkle: How long have I been in here now? Almost a year? You: …This is Monopoly.

You and Asta: Madam Herta, help! We did a bad thing! Herta: Does it affect me? You and Asta: Not technically— Herta: Then suffer in silence.

You: Do you know a turtle's greatest weakness? Ruan Mei: How slow they are? You: No, their only weakness is that they can get stuck on their back. Ruan Mei: What if you taped two turtles together? They'd be unstoppable, correct? You: … Ruan Mei: … Ruan Mei: …I will be back shortly You: Ruan Mei, NO—

You: Died and came back as a cowboy, I call that reintarnation. Archeon: Laughs -Elsewhere- Boothill: I suddenly feel like strangling someone.

You: I need some help dealing with a problem, do you have any suggestions? Jingliu: Sword. You: Do you have any other suggestions? Jingliu: …Two swords.

You: Do you have any idea how many laws you're breaking on a daily basis? Silver Wolf: One? You: No. Silver Wolf: Two? You: No. Silver Wolf: …Is it one?

You: why are you following me? Kafka: because we’re dating now You: okay… what about the rest of you? Kafka: we’re a package deal Silver Wolf, walking next to the rest of the Stellaron hunters while burying her face in a game and Blade maneuvering her to avoid hazards like light poles: buy one idiot, get several free

You: Do you want to play 20 Questions? Firefly: Sure! You: What's your favorite color? Firefly, laser fucking focused: Triangle. Will you go out on a date with me?

Kafka: I love making short jokes about Wolfie. You: They go right over her head. Silver Wolf, standing on a step stool: Fuck you.

Blade, reading the note in the lunch packed for him by you and Kafka: the path to inner peace starts with four words Blade: not my fucking problem Blade: Narrows Eyes I think this one is for Firefly

Firefly, reading the note in the lunch packed for her by you and Kafka: Please, for the love of the Aeons, be good. We know your love language is acts of service. We also know your only skill is stabbing people. Firefly: Tilts Head To The Side I… believe this is for blade…

You: I love my personal space You point to the Silver Wolf latched onto your back You: this is Wolfie. Wolfie also loves my personal space.

You: Why are you smiling Blade? Blade: Am I not allowed to be happy? Kafka: Of course you are Bladie… It’s just that you being happy, usually means someone’s lost their life… or a limb.

Pom Pom: I typed "bitch" into my GPS and guess what? I'm in your driveway. The Express Crew, desperately trying to avoid spring cleaning after the last "Incident": … Pom Pom: Choo Choo motherfuckers, come out already.

Stelle, waving at the crew as she steps onto the express after being splattered by a small army of stings: hello. Himeko: i- Welt: we literally saw you die. Dan Heng: you died. March 7th: you're dead. Stelle, shrugging: death is a social construct.

You and Stelle: some fools be like “I play games to escape my responsibilities” then pick tank or healer Welt: In my greatest fantasies I am able to help people Dan Heng: In my fantasies I can prevent people from being hurt, even if it means I get hurt in their stead Himeko: In my fantasies I don’t have to know how to aim March 7th: In my fantasies I control who lives and who dies

You standing at the top of the stairs: What are y'all doing at the bottom of the staircase? Ruan Mei: I accidentally fell down. Herta: RUAN MEI PUSHED ME down the stairs because I refuse to pay HER part of our rent! Screwllum: Ruan Mei bet me fifty Credits that I couldn't reach the bottom of the stairs faster than she did falling down it, so I slid down the banister to get my money. Dr. Ratio: I don't know how I got here. One moment, I was sleeping in my bed, three floors up, and several galaxies away and then suddenly I was waking up here, just in time to get crushed by Screwllum.

You: Do you think different paints have different tastes? Ruan Mei: They do. Herta: …Why did you say that with such certainty?

Dr. Ratio, talking to You and Topaz: Well, whenever I’m about to do something, I think ‘would Aventurine do that?’ and if they would, I do not do that thing. You and Topaz: … Aventurine: I know I should be offended, but he's not wrong.

Silver Wolf talking about you: How do you feel about Them, Firefly? Firefly, vibrating at a frequency high enough to shatter a glass: I love Them a normal amount.

You and the Stellaron Hunters sitting in jail together You: So who should we call? Silver Wolf: I’d call Blade, but I feel safer in jail

You: When do you usually go to sleep? Blade: Whenever I collapse is entirely up to the Aeons. Kafka: My body will pass out when it's ready Kafka and Blade: high five You: angry staring (edited)

Firefly: Good News! The store had blueberry bagels! Bad news, the cream cheese died… or became more alive… It is the wrong amount of alive.

Tingyun, after being caught lying in bed with your shirt on: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt. You: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

Yukong: Hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers? You: Peonies, why? Yukong: … You: Were you going to get me flowers? Yukong: … You: … Yukong, under her breath: It's a possibility…

Quingque: I owe you one. You: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.

Blade: walks in to see you and Firefly sitting on the couch facing away from each other. Blade: I know I will more than likely regret asking, but what's going on there? Firefly, gaming: They're having a fight. Blade, confused: Then why are they holding hands? Kafka, playing with her Cat: Fighting makes them sad.

Natasha: Why are there little handprints all over the wall? You, whispering to The Moles: Why are there little handprints all over the wall? The Moles: Because we have little hands. You: *Nods Sagely Before Turning To Natasha* You, with a smile: Its because The Moles have little hands

You, when Wildfire was just starting: Natasha, sweetie, the love of my life, all you have is a handful of impoverished shantytowns paying us protection money. We're basically slum lords.

Natasha: And what's the main rule we have? Julian: Don't dare The Leader Of The Moles, Dark Hook The Great to do stupid stuff. You: And why's that? Hook with her head stuck between two stair rails: Because I have no regard for my personal well being.

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prosupplyglobal12 · 18 days ago

Text

Spring Packaging Ideas – Fresh Ways to Delight Your Customers

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Explore fresh and vibrant spring packaging supplies like printed poly mailers, floral bubble mailers, themed tissue paper, and stylish merchandise bags. These seasonal packaging ideas enhance your unboxing experience, create emotional connections with customers, and add a seasonal charm to your shipments. Perfect for e-commerce brands, subscription boxes, and retail stores looking to wow their customers this spring!

#spring packaging ideas #seasonal packaging #eco-friendly spring packaging #creative packaging for spring #gift packaging ideas #custom spring packaging #seasonal branding #prosupplyglobal

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joostsblog · 10 months ago

Note

I really love all your Joost fics, and thank you so much for the Aggu crumbs 💕

Do you take Aggu requests too? There’s this one Aggu tiktok (the grape video) and I was wondering if you could do an Aggu x Reader where reader is the one feeding the grapes jokingly at first, but then it turns into something intimate

Yes, I saw the grape video and I think I get appeal 😌 This is a shorter one but I hope you enjoy it anyway & I hope it's fine with you that I also snuck a bit of Joost x reader in there 🤭

caught in the middle part one: picnic day ~ a Ski Aggu / Joost Klein x reader series

My masterlist here ✨💌 caught in the middle series masterlist

Pairing: Ski Aggu x reader (also a sneaky Joost Klein x reader, sry i had to)

Description: A cheeky joke between two friends turns into something different.

Word Count: 0.9k

A/N: THIS IS A SERIES NOW! Read part two here!

I usually don't write for Aggu but loved this idea so here you go💌 requests still open although I can't promise too many as I'll be on vacation the next two weeks ☀️ if you liked it, you can show your support by leaving a reblog 🫶

Warnings: mention of weed, not proofread

"Aggu!" you said with a big smile as you saw the blonde man walk up to you.

"(Y/N), what's up?" Aggu asked while engulfing you in a hug.

"Nothing much, you're the first person to be here," you shrugged and motioned to the picnic blanket you had already spread out on the grass.

"I expected nothing else," Aggu laughed and sat down on the blanket.

The both of you had a reputation within your friend group for always being punctual while everyone would be late. You were glad that at least you weren't the only person and secretly you liked it because it meant that every time you would hang out in a group you would get Aggu an extra 15 to 30 minutes just to yourself. So you couldn't complain, really. It was a warm late spring day, summer just around the corner. The park was lively but not too packed. Aggu was wearing a tight football jersey which hugged his figure and especially his upper arms very nicely.

It had only been recently when you looked at Aggu with different eyes. It happened when you were out partying a few weeks ago and the music was so loud, the club was so packed that you stood so close to Aggu that he had to lean down to you and closely whisper into your ear to tell you something. When the hairs on your arms shot straight up and suddenly you got all shy around him. Prior to this moment, you didn't know that Aggu could have this effect on you (maybe because before that Joost was all you could think about but right now your mind was preoccupied with the German rapper). Since you caught your little crush on Aggu that only grew by the minute you really appreciated how much of a flirty personality he had. Any joke or touch you shared would never be taken in the wrong way by him, that you were sure of.

"I got us some beer and cookies," Aggu announced as he unpacked the goods from his bag. "Also this," he held up a packet of weed. He laid down on his side only propped up by his elbow.

"Nice," you grinned. "I brought some hummus and veggie sticks and some grapes," you pointed to the food already on the blanket.

"I would love some grapes right now," Aggu pointed to the packet of grapes in front of you.

"Be my guest," you said.

"But I'm so comfortable right now," Aggu pouted. "Will you feed them to me? Please?" he said with a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes.

"Whatever," you said and opened the package. You didn't make the effort to actually pluck the grapes from the vine. He'll have to do that himself, you thought. Instead, you just scooted a bit closer to Aggu so you could comfortably reach him. You dangled the vine of grapes above his head so that he could reach the grapes with his mouth.

Aggu shot you a quick shot and a grin before he opened his mouth and took some of the grapes into his mouth. You realised the position you put him in really didn't help you to cure the crush anytime soon. You watched Aggu's face intently. How sharp and godlike his jawline looked from the side. How lush his lips looked as they wrapped around the grapes. How he closed his eyes as if he was leaning into a kiss. How the stubble on his face might feel against your fingers or maybe even between your thighs. You tried to ban those thoughts to the back of your head immediately.

"You also want one?" Aggu asked after he swallowed.

"Sure," you said and before you could pick a grape yourself Aggu went in again and plucked a single grape from the vine using his mouth.

He nodded and angled his head upwards to you, the grape positioned between his front teeth. There really was no way you could misread the invitation Aggu was sending you right now. You bit your lip and put your hand on Aggu's shoulder before you leaned down, your heart almost beating out of your chest. Your lips softly touched Aggu's as you took the grape and sucked it into your mouth. Instead of pulling back you suddenly felt Aggu's hand on your cheek, holding you just in place. Now your lips were properly pressed on Aggu's. The kiss was soft and sweet and yet you could feel arousal building up inside your lower stomach, wishing you could be in private and alone with Aggu right now.

"Are we interrupting something?" you heard your friend Bianca's amused voice behind you.

You let go of Aggu and looked up at her, embarrassment overcoming you. Behind Bianca was Joost who you noticed didn't look so amused like Bianca, his facial expression blank. You let go of Aggu's shoulder as you shifted your position beside him.

"What's up?" you asked the two of them nonchalantly and Bianca started ranting about the Tinder date she had been on just last night.

You could feel Aggu shifting closer to you again as he leaned over to whisper in your ear. Just for a second, your gaze crossed Joost's stare across from you but before you could even react he quickly looked away.

"If you're free tonight we can continue this," Aggu's voice seductively danced over your ear and you smiled.

"I'd like that very much."

READ PART TWO HERE // series masterlist

#joostsblog #ski aggu #ski aggu x reader #ski aggu x you #ski aggu oneshot #ski aggu one shot #ski aggu imagine #ski aggu fanfic #ski aggu fanfiction #ski aggu ff #joost #joost klein #joost klein x reader

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theconstitutionisgayculture · 8 months ago

Text

There's a guy who really, really loves Pepsi. He's been drinking it since he was a kid and it's his favorite drink of all time, he can't get enough of it. So, when a lady comes up to him and offers him a glass of Pepsi, he's ecstatic. "Yes, please!" he says, and takes the glass and drinks it down. The Pepsi is warm and kind of flat, but that's okay. It's still Pepsi and he still loves Pepsi. So when the lady offers him another glass, he takes it and drinks it down. This one is also warm, and much more flat, but that's okay. It's still Pepsi, and he still loves Pepsi. So when the lady offers him another glass, he takes it and drinks it down. This time, it's very warm and very flat. But, it's still Pepsi. And he still loves Pepsi. So, when the lady offers him another glass, he takes it, and drinks it down.

Now, by this point, the man who loves Pepsi is starting to forget what fresh Pepsi tastes like. It's been forever since he had it, and while he has a lot of old pictures of Pepsi and of him drinking Pepsi, that crisp, fresh taste is just out of reach in his memories. So, when the lady offers him another glass, he takes it, drinks it down, and starts to wonder if maybe this is as good as Pepsi will ever be again. If so, he's disappointed, but he still loves Pepsi. So he keeps taking the glasses, and he keeps drinking them down.

Then, one day, the woman hands him a glass that he drinks. The moment the Pepsi touches his tongue, he gags. This isn't just warm and flat. This is disgusting. It's old and sour and thick and filled with sediment and it tastes like it's been baking in the sun for six weeks. The woman who handed him the glass insists it's Pepsi. The man who loves Pepsi disagrees. Pepsi used to be fresh and crisp and its distinct taste filled his mouth with joy. It was cold and refreshing and always made him happy. This...stuff he just drank is not in any way the Pepsi he loves. "Not so," says the woman. "It has all the same ingredients. The same sugars. The same recipe. It even comes from the same can with that famous Pepsi logo. Sure, those ingredients were mixed a little differently. Some of the proportions were changed. Certain ingredients were prioritized over others. And the can was opened weeks ago and left outside in the sun a bit, but everything you love about Pepsi is still there. You're just too caught up in your idea of what Pepsi is to see it."

But the Pepsi fan will not be swayed. This is not Pepsi. This is some terrible bastardization of what Pepsi used to be. What it always should be. The crisp taste and the cool refreshing carbonation is essential, and he no longer wants to drink this desecration of the thing he loved.

"But this is the thing you love," the woman insists. "All the same ingredients. All the same packaging. If you don't love it now, then you never truly loved it at all."

Now the Pepsi fan is angry. How dare this woman tell him he never loved Pepsi. He's always loved Pepsi! And right as he's about to tell the woman exactly where to shove her fake, cheap, imitation slop, out from her pocket she pulls a brand new, unopened can of Pepsi. Our Pepsi fan stops and stares at the familiar blue can. This is the Pepsi he remembered. The woman places it in the fridge. It's even going to be cold! The Pepsi fan asks if he can have a glass of that Pepsi.

"Soon," the woman says.

The Pepsi fan is thrilled. Soon. Soon, he will once again have his Pepsi. The Pepsi he remembers. The Pepsi he's loved his whole life.

With a smile on his face and a spring in his step, he goes into the next room to wait until he can once again enjoy his Pepsi. The moment he leaves, the woman takes the can out of the fridge, opens it, and leaves it outside in the sun.

The man, blissfully unaware, eagerly begins to anticipate his next glass. He goes online and tells all the Pepsi naysayers that finally they're going to get back the Pepsi they all love.

And that's Disney Star Wars in a nutshell.

#star wars #disney star wars #glup shitto

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h0efor2ho · 10 months ago

Text

Playtime Pt. 2

Yunho X Reader X Mingi

Part one: Here

WC: 3.1K (Oops)

TW: Exhibition, Dirty Talk, Use of nic names ( Princess, Pretty, Love ) fingering, masterbation, blind folded, clit play,

It's been almost three weeks since, "the incident" That's what you'r calling it. Refusing to think of it as what it was, you getting turned on by your boyfriends best friends listing to you ride his dick over their weekly PC game night. You haven't seen Mingi or Wooyoung since then. In fact you haven't seen any of Yunho's friends, except Hongjoon, who if he knew, didn't lead on that he did. Yunho hasn't brought it up either, so neither have you. You guess the both of you are just going to pretend it never happened. You can't lie, the idea of that makes you a little sad.

You are in the process of going through the motions of wrapping up the end of your day at work when you phone pings with a new text message.

Yunho : There was a package delivered for you today. When you get home I want you to put it on. I want you in that and only that. Wait for me, I'll be there in 30 minutes.

You read the message three times. As you process the the words, trying to figure out what he meant by it he text you again.

Yunho: Hurry up princess, don't make me wait for you.

You quickly spring into action. Shoving the last remaining papers on your desk into a folder and in your drawer. It will take you about 15 minutes to get home from your office. Leaving you 15 minutes to do what Yunho has told you before he gets home as well. The whole subway ride home your stomach is in knots. 'What could he have planned' you think to yourself as you ride the elevator up to your floor. As you step out you see a box sitting in front of your apartment door. Reading the label you instantly know what kind of night its going to be.

Making your way into your apartment, closing the door behind you, you tear into the box that bears the signature logo of Bluebella. Your favorite lingerie store. Inside you find the most beautiful blue silk chemises, with matching eye mask. You're busy admiring the items when your phone pings again. Another incoming text from Yunho.

Yunho: You have 10 minutes till I'm home. I want you sitting on the bed waiting for me in that.

It's like a zap of lightning goes through you as you quickly run to your closet to change. Discarding your work clothes in a half hazard heap on the floor, you quickly slip on the silk garment, the eye mask resting on your forehead as you go and sit on the end of the bed. Your legs dangling off as you nervously wait from Yunho to get home. It's not long before you hear his keys sliding into the lock of the front door. You quickly slide the eye mask down fro your forehead and over your eyes, shrouding your vision in darkness as you try and listen to his soft footsteps coming down the hall.

You don't realize you were holding your breath till you hear the soft click of the bedroom door closing. You can feel the moment he enters your personal space, your body so in tune to his. A second later his hand is cupping one check as he connects your lips. It's a gentle, quick kiss before he's pulling back. "You listen so well my love" he whispers to you, his breath fanning over your face. His hand sliding from your cheek down to your neck where it gently rests for a moment before he pulls it back. "I think you deserve a reward for being such a good girl for me" he says softly.

The words accompanied by the sounds of movement around the room. You hear the clink of his belt, the hard sounds of your bedroom furniture being moved, the ruffle of fabric before you feel the bed dip next to you. Its only a second before his mouth is next to your ear "I think your going to enjoy this, but if at any point you want to stop you know your safe word, okay" you quickly shake your head, muttering out a small yes before he is pressing his mouth to your again.

This time it's not gentle, it's needy and hurried and filled with longing. You kiss his back with just as much vigor before it's broken again. You focus on catching your breath as you feel the bed dipping and rising around you before on of Yunhos strong arms is entangling its self around your waist and pulling you till your back meets his hard chest. You can feel all this muscles from his chest down to your favorite one between his legs, that is now very hard and bushing into your lower back. His free hand sweeping the hair back from your neck before he leans down to pepper kisses across your skin.

Moving from your shoulder to the side of your throat. "Always such a good girl for me" he says in-between kisses. His hands sliding up from where they were on your stomach to palm your breasts through the thin silk material. His hard hands easily engulfing your chest as he gently squeezes. A small sound escaping you as he does it, gently arching into his touch more. "Do you like that baby?" he asks in your ear. Before he had even finished his sentence you had your head nodding yes. Slowly his hands continue to travel up from your chest to your throat. Wrapping around and giving it a gentle but tight squeeze you let out your first audible sound to him.

The small whine leaves your throat as his hands release your throat from his grasp and slid to your shoulders. "Oh I think you like that" he says with much amusement in his voice "We'll have to remember that" he says as he lays another kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder. His hands sliding from the top of your shoulders and down your arms, it takes you a minute to realize that he caught the straps of your chamise and they were down going down with his hands. The silk sliding down over your pebbled nipples until they were exposed to the cold air of the room. "love these" he growls out from behind you as his hands once again cup your now exposed breasts.

His long nimble fingers coming to pinch your nipples between them, tugging slightly. "Yu-Yunho" you pant out. Your body feels like a live wire is connected to it, buzzing where ever he touches. "Thats it princess" he coos as he continues to tug on your nipples. One of his hands comes down to the outside of your thigh, starting to trail up he pushes the fabric up your thighs and around your waist, making you completely exposed for him in-between his legs. It's not long before that same hand is now pressed to the inside of your thighs making a slow agonizing trail from your thighs up.

The anticipation killing you, you need his touch. You know that once his hand connects with your core he will find you soaking wet. You gently tilt your hips up, trying to push into his incoming hand. As quickly as his hand was on your thigh it's now gone, but only for a second before you feel the sting of contact right in the middle of your legs. You yell out in pain as you realize Yunho just slapped your clit. Your legs quickly snapping shut "And here I was telling you how good your being" He says as he grabs each of your legs and hooks them over yours, making it impossible for you to close them now. "Don't be a needy little whore, be my good girl and take what I give you" he says as he returns his hand to your core.

He quickly slides his fingers between your slit, circling you tight hole one before pulling his hand away. What you cant see him do is hold his hand up and admire how wet his fingers are in front of your face "Your always so ready for me baby" he coos in your ear before you hear him moan followed by a pop sound. "Always taste so good too" he says after.

"Yunho please" you whine out again "Please what princes" he saw as he pulls your legs open wider "Please touch me" you beg him. You can feel the tears behind your eyes, the need to be touched becoming too much for you. "Of course baby" he says before sliding his hand back down between your body. You let out a moan at the contact, his hand releasing a bit of the ache you had. He quickly coats his fingers in your wetness before swiping them back up to rub small circles on your clit.

You cant hold back your sounds anymore as he starts to build your body up. Swipe after swipe of his long fingers bringing your body higher and higher. His other hand coming down to spread you wide as he continues to work your clit "Look how ready" he breaths out "She's always so wet and ready" With his other hand he pushes in one of his long, delicate fingers into your wet hole. Your hips involuntary jerk as he hooks his finger in a come here motion, hitting the spot you love. You're trying your best to hold still in his arms as loud moans fill the room, your body coming to the edge. Just a few more swipes of Yunho's fingers and you know that band in your stomach is going to snap.

"You do sound so pretty in person"

The blood in your vines freezes. The air you were sucking in caught in your windpipe now. It's like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on you.

Because the deep voice that just said that, the deep voice you know so well, came from in front of you and does not belong to your boyfriend.

"Mi...Mingi?" you stammer out.

Yunho's hand comes away from you'r clit and before you know it your vision is flooding with light. They're in front of you, sitting back in the wingback chair that is usually in the corner of the room, eyes devouring you, is your boyfriends best friend, Mingi. He's leaning back with his legs wide. Dressed in slacks and a button down, the first button undone, tie loosened and sleeves pushed up his forearms, you figure he came home with Yunho.

"Surprise princess" Yuhno whispers in your ear as he starts to work his finger in and out of you again. "Do you want to use your safe word" he asks you quietly. Your eyes lock with Mingi's, nothing pure fire and desire burning in them as he watches Yunho toy with your body. "No" you whisper. "Good girl" Mingi says in his deep voice, his eyes flicking down, tracking Yunho's hand travel back down your body till he finds your clit again. The first swipe of the pad of his finger sending your hips jerking again. "Very good girl" Mingi says again.

A shudder racks through your body as the words slip past his lips. You feel Yunho slip his finger from your entrance, a whimper falling past your lips as you feel the emptiness. "Don't worry princess, I'm not going anywhere" He chuckles as you feel him push two fingers now back into you. The sound that comes from you is almost animalistic as he stretches you open. Your head falling back on to Yunho's shoulder as he works his fingers in and out of you "God she does sound so good" Mingi's gruff voice cuts through your haze.

Tilting your head back up, your met with the site of him palming the growing bulge in his pants. You cant help yourself but to watch, your whole body heating up as you watch your boyfriends best friend, rub his cock while he watches you get fingered by said boyfriend. The whole situation was obscured, but you cant help the way your walls involuntary start to clench watching him palm himself. The action didn't go un noticed. "Why don't you tell him to take it out baby" Yunho says between kisses on your neck "Tell him you want to see him"

You're convinced these men are trying to kill you, because that's exactly what is going to happen if you ask Mingi to see his cock. But you can't help but keep watching him, growing slightly bigger with each pass of his hand over the crotch of his pants. "Mi- Mingi?" you tentatively say. "Mm yes pretty" he responds, never taking his eyes off your core where he is watching Yunho's fingers disappear and reappear inside your wet hole. "Can.. can I see it?" you ask in a small quite voice. "What was that" he says. "Can I see it? Can you take your cock out for me, want to see it"

A string of expletives leaves Mingi's mouth as he throws his head back and groans. "Sure thing pretty" he finally says after a long pause. He holds eye contact with you as his hands get to work undoing his belt and flicking open the button. He drags the zipper down before hooking his thumbs in the waist of his pants. Slightly lifting his hips he slowly drags his pants down till the waist is at the top of his thighs. Slowly he reaches down and pulls his length free and the breath you were inhaling gets lodged in your throat. You knew he was going to be big with his hight and how big his hands were, but you were not prepared for what you were looking at. He was just an inch or so shorter in length than Yunho, which was still very long, but he was noticeably thicker.

You watched as his hand wrapped around the base of his cock and slightly squeezed. The action followed by a groan leaving him from deep in his chest. "Oh I think she likes what she see's" Yunho chuckles "She's tightening around my fingers" You didn't even realize you were doing it. "Do you pretty? You like watching me play with my cock for you?" He groans out, the sound of his deep voice going right to your core that Yunho is currently pumping his long fingers in and out of. You shake your head yes, while eyeing his hand that is how starting to gently slide up his long shaft. "Use your words, want to hear that pretty voice of yours"

"Yess" you hiss out as Yunho pumps his fingers a little rougher into you. You notice Mingi watching your boyfriends hand, as his picks up the pace to match it. You can't hold back the sounds anymore as you watch him jerk off for you, working his hand up and down as Yunho's fingers go in and out. The sounds of your moaning mixing with Mingi's little grunts and Yunho's fingers pushing into your wet hole. It's pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Fuck" mingi grunts as his hips jerk up into his hand. "Always knew you would look so good naked" He pants. "Used to tell Yu how lucky he was to have someone like you"

"He does" Yunho coo's into your ear "He always tells me how good you look and how lucky I am to be with you" He peppers kisses along the side of your face "Knew he would just love to see it first hand. Are you going to show him princess. Are you going to come apart on my fingers while Mingi fucks his hand wishing it was your pretty cunt" His hands curling again and hitting that spot you love so much as he picks up the pace. "Oh fuck Yuyu! Not gonna last long" you cry as your hips start to jerk to meet his thrusting fingers. His other hand rubbing tight circles on your slick clit.

"You going to cum for me pretty? Cause I'm going to cum for you" Mingi says, his hips lifting up with each thrust into his tightened hand. "Fuck yes Min" you cry out "So close" you whine the band in your lower stomach becoming tighter and tighter. You know what's going to happen before you do it. You feel your body tightening as Yunho curls his fingers again hitting your gspot. Your walls fluttering before calmping down on his fingers in a vice grip. Release flooding from your hole. Because Yunho's fingers were still pumping in and out of you, when your body lets go and you squirt it goes everywhere. All over your bed, all over the floor since you're at the edge of the bed and more importantly all over Mingi's lap as he's sitting in front of the bed.

"Oh FUCK" he crys out as your juice splash all over his lap, his hand and his cock he's working. It takes him 0.3 seconds before he is summing on his hand right behind you. The view of your cunt squirting yore release all over sending him over the edge. His hand is covered in his cum as he give his big cock a few more tugs. You look on panting as he brings his hand up between the two of you. "Open up pretty" he smirks. "Go ahead love" Yunho says from behind you, his fingers now lazily sliding in and out of your hole. You do as you're told and open your mouth, just as Mingi shoves his middle and pointer finger onto your mouth. He wipes the cum from his fingers on your tongue before pulling them back.

You quickly close your mouth and swallow his release. "Such a pretty good girl" he coos at you. "Yes she's always such a good girl" Yunho says as his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you back onto his chest, legs still hooked over his thighs keeping you on display. "You did so good for us baby" Yunho says as he brushes your hair from your face. "But I know how you can be even better" his eyes shifting from yours over to his best friend "Why don't you be the best girl and let Mingi have a taste of the mess he made"

.... to be continued ...

Tag list : @tunaasan @dawn-iscozy @mingisdimple @uarmytess @kitty4hwa

@trivia-134340 @winklehwa @everythingboutkpop @vampzworld @skittyneos

@holyclitorius @jintastic-day @wisejudgedragonhairdo @yourfatherlucifer @atinyb

@yuyusgirl

If you'd like to be tagged in the next part please let me know (:

Please note if you have a blank or ageless blog I will NOT tag you.

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moonwqves · 1 month ago

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⋮ 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬.

───〃★ the jackal (the day of the jackal) x reader.

★ — TYPE | fluff ; sfw ★ — SUMMARY | to celebrate your anniversary, your husband takes you on a trip — and a trip down memory lane. ★ — WORD COUNT | 3.3k ★ — WARNINGS | wife!reader ; mostly just married people being gross and in love ; jackal is referred to as alexander duggan ; reader is referred to as my love, darling, etc. ; time skips between past & present ; not really canon compliant ★ — NOTES | i originally wrote this fic 2 years ago on another blog for a different fandom, but i recently watched tdotj (and then read the book: not as good as the show imo but i’d still recommend it) and i decided to rewrite this fic to fit my current interests! it seems like this fandom on tumblr is fairly small so please reblog or leave a comment if you liked this! i have a few more ideas that i'd love to write for him in the future :)

“alex, can you at least tell me where we’re going?”

he shakes his head, a shy grin making its way across his face as he zips a bag of toiletries shut. “it’s a surprise, my darling. can’t spoil the fun yet.”

you pout and cross your arms, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside your open suitcase. “how am i supposed to know what to bring, then, if i don’t know where we’re going?”

alexander pauses to look back at you, considering. “ah. well, you’ve got me there.” in one smooth motion he turns back around, pulling his phone out of his pocket and tapping a few times against the screen. you watch as he studies the device carefully, waiting to give him a chance to speak, but he doesn’t.

for a man with so many secrets, many secrets he’d finally divulged to you and you alone, there could be any number of things going on in his life at any given time. when he’d proposed a week-long holiday for your upcoming anniversary, he’d swore up and down that there would be no other engagements diverting his attention. for the first time in a long time, he was all yours, and at present you were inclined to believe him. he was a liar, yes, and a very skilled one at that, but never without good reason. if something else was to happen over the next few days, then he would let you in on the secret when he saw fit. otherwise… it really was just going to be a vacation getaway, and nothing more.

“what is it?” you ask after a tentative silence, and alex lifts his head again at your voice.

he looks up at you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “checking the weather,” he says, turning the phone around to show the screen. “it’s going to be warm and clear. usual for this time of year, but it’ll be windy, so pack a coat.” he pauses, glancing down at the screen again, and then back up at you. “perhaps more than one coat.”

you purse your lips, thinking for a moment before you stand and walk into the closet, pulling out two hangers: in your left hand a long brown overcoat, and on the right, a faded black leather jacket. “which one?”

there’s a spark of recognition in his eyes, and he immediately raises his hand to point towards the left. “that one.”

—— 20th FEBRUARY.

“excuse me, miss, do you need some help?”

ice cold droplets of rain pour down around you as you stand underneath the awning in front of the grocery store, cursing yourself for not checking the weather more thoroughly before you’d gone out today. it had been deceptively sunny earlier, but during the rainy spring season you never know when the weather will decide to flip on a dime and the skies open up like they have today. your outfit had been perfect for the sunshine, but now it’s nowhere near enough to protect you from the rain.

at the sound of a voice you turn and see a tall man coming out of the store behind you, a brown paper-wrapped package sticking out from under his arm. “do you live far?” he asks. “you can borrow my umbrella, if you want.”

the words no, i’m fine, thank you form themselves on your lips, but after another moment of studying his face closer, you realize there’s something familiar about him, though you can’t immediately figure out why. “sorry, have we met before?”

his expression mirrors your own of confusion for a moment before he narrows his eyes, as if realizing something. “aren’t you— ah, that little café down on wilshire street, do you work there?”

you nod your head in response, relaxing now that you know he’s friendly. still, it comes as a surprise when he repeats your name, though you brush it off quickly; anyone who comes into the café could notice the neatly lettered chalk swirls that sit against the black background of your apron’s name pin. “that’s me,” you say with a polite laugh. “but… i’m sorry, i don’t remember your name. i don’t pay much attention to customers, unless they come in quite often.”

“don’t worry about it. i’m visiting from out of town.” he offers a dazzling smile, and it’s so enthralling that you barely notice the sound of distant thunder cracking in the air. “it’s alexander, by the way. or just alex, if you’d like.”

you stick out your hand and he shakes it enthusiastically, his grip firm yet warm. “very nice to meet you, alexander,” you smile, and he bows his head at you.

“so— about that umbrella,” he says.

you wave him off. “oh, no, i’m alright. it’s not far. just working up the courage to sprint back home,” you say with a laugh, hugging your groceries tighter to your chest in a futile effort to protect them from the rain.

“let me give you a ride,” he declares suddenly. “it’ll be a bit shorter of a sprint for you, at least? i’m staying at the apartments a couple blocks down, it’s not out of my way.”

“i’ll be fine,” you say, brushing your hair out of your face as a gust of wind threatens to knock you over. “though it’s very kind of you to offer.”

alexander frowns a little, and you try not to read too much into the flirty pout gracing his lips. “well, i can’t in good conscience let you go off running around in a storm like this without an umbrella,” he says. he shifts the paper package to his other arm and quickly starts shrugging off his coat. “here, take this. your pretty outfit will get all ruined in the rain. please, i insist.”

you want to tell him no again, but just then the thunder cracks again, drawing your attention back to the downpour around you. you can already feel the puddle of water you’re standing in beginning to soak into your socks through your shoes, and his coat does look warm…

“alright, fine,” you concede after a second, accepting the clothing from him and slipping your arms into the sleeves as he pulls it around your shoulders. “how should i get it back to you?”

“well… i’m in town for a while longer. i’ll stop by the café another day this week when you’re working?”

“i’ll take good care of it for you until then,” you nod, offering him a friendly smile as you tug his coat tighter around you, and he grins in response.

alex catches your eye for a moment, a spark flickering in his gaze before he lowers his head to check his watch, almost shy to avert his eyes. “i’m really sorry, i’ve actually got a meeting to rush off to,” he says apologetically. “but it was nice meeting you. i hope we’ll see each other again soon.”

he gives you a little wave and then dashes off into the rain, holding his package over his head to protect himself. you pull the collar of his coat up around your neck, watching as he disappears into the twilight of the parking lot and feeling only a little guilty for leaving him without protection from the weather. but then again, he had offered, and you would see him again anyway. and besides, he seemed to be more prepared than you, in other ways.

“now, will you tell me where we’re going?”

the warm morning breeze brushes against your cheeks as you rest your elbow against the car door, the fabric roof of the convertible folded down behind you. you lean your head back against the passenger seat headrest and sigh, glancing over at alexander in the driver’s seat. the wind blows his hair around in his face, a tousled flurry of dirty blond against his freckled cheeks.

you still have no idea where you’re headed for your anniversary trip, and it seems like alex has no intention of letting you know anytime soon. but despite your curiosity, that thought couldn’t be farther from your mind as you watch him drive with one hand on the wheel, dark sunglasses perched casually on the bridge his nose.

“not yet, my love,” he says coolly, his voice raised just enough to be heard over the wind. “you’ll see soon enough, i promise.” at your whine of protest he grins and reaches across the seat, resting his other hand on your thigh.

the rural city gradually fades out, becoming less and less dense until you’re out on a long stretch of back roads, nothing but green fields and tall grass as far as the eye can see. eventually alexander pulls off the road and stops in a tiny dirt parking lot surrounded by trees. a small wooden sign announces the name of the park, along with a note that reminds visitors to pick up their trash.

he pulls the keys out of the ignition and shoves them in his pocket, and you hum curiously. “is this your big surprise?”

he chuckles, leaning over the center console to kiss your cheek before opening his door. “no, of course not. this is just lunch.”

he slides out of the car and comes around to your side to open the door for you before he moves to open the trunk, pulling out a small cooler and a blanket before shutting it again. he holds out his hand to you, motioning for you to follow him. when you take his hand he squeezes a little, turning back over his shoulder to smile at you before leading you over to a shady spot in the grass.

as alex spreads the picnic blanket out, you start to open the cooler to help him set up, but he shoos your hand away with a tsk of his teeth. “darling, let me do it,” he says, throwing you a playful frown. the ever-prepared man that he is, you know he’s meticulously planned out each and every detail of this vacation sparing no expense, so you surrender and let him continue with what he’s doing on his own.

he pulls a bottle of sparkling apple juice out from the cooler and hands you two champagne flutes, then pours your glass out first before pouring his own and setting the bottle down in the grass.

“the real stuff is waiting at the hotel,” he says with a smirk, holding up his glass to clink with yours.

“so we’re staying in a hotel, then?” you hum, raising your eyebrows at him as you take a sip. “i’m one step closer to figuring you out.”

“must’ve been a slip of the tongue,” he grins, and for once you know for sure that he’s lying. alexander duggan simply doesn’t do a slip of the tongue. every move he makes is intentional, and there’s no doubt in your mind that revealing this little piece of information was intentional, too.

you sigh contentedly, leaning back on your hands as he pulls out paper-wrapped sandwiches from the cooler. he glances at both of them before handing yours to you, your name printed in carefully scrawled sharpie lettering.

it’s so cute you almost don’t want to ruin it by opening it, and you look at it fondly for such a long time that by the time you finally start to unwrap it, alexander is already halfway done with his. you call his name, holding back a laugh when he looks up from his sandwich with mustard smeared over one corner of his mouth. “what?” he hums, mouth full.

“nothing,” you giggle, reaching over to wipe the mustard off his face with your thumb before wiping your hand on a napkin. “i just love you.”

—— 3RD MARCH.

“number twenty-four! ham and swiss for alex?”

the barista’s booming voice calls out the order, and alexander slips out of his chair to go grab the food. despite being the middle of the day, there isn’t much of a lunch crowd in the deli this afternoon.

you’d seen him again at the café a few days later, and, recognizing him immediately this time, returned his coat to him safe and sound. after that he’d quickly become one of your regulars at the café, always staying longer than necessary and tipping far more than the cost of his regular black coffee and croissant.

days passed, and after one particularly flirty morning he’d finally, shyly, asked if you’d get lunch with him sometime. it hadn’t taken much to convince you; he’d recommended a sandwich shop down the street owned by an old friend of his, enthusiastically raving on and on about the chocolate chip muffins until you’d agreed with a laugh.

he comes back to the table a second later holding a little wood tray with two sandwiches, carefully handing you yours before sitting down again.

the sandwich ends up being fantastic (he had been right to give rave reviews after all), but the company you’re with ends up being the best part of the lunch. getting to know alexander is more fun than you’ve ever had, and when you look down to check your watch and realize that you’ll be late to work if you stay any longer, you’re honestly disappointed that it has to end here.

“would you wanna go out again sometime?” alex asks sheepishly as you both stand up. despite his calm and collected demeanor, there’s something awkward about the way he acts that you find terribly endearing. “maybe… dinner, or something, next time?”

“yeah.” you give him a bright smile and push your chair in. “i would really like that. dinner sounds wonderful.”

he grins, and you can almost see his cheeks flush a little beneath his freckles as he follows you out of the shop. being around him feels like you’ve known each other for years, and in that moment you realize this lunch is only a first date with alex. he’s already making plans for a second, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

he helps you into your car and gives you a wave before walking away towards his own. and long after his car has pulled away and you’re still sitting in the parking lot, you can’t help but smile. the only thing on your mind is how much you’re looking forward to seeing him again.

“we’re here, my love, are you awake?”

the smooth lilt of alex’s voice pulls you out of your nap and you blink slowly, sitting up and massaging the kink in your neck from sleeping against the car seat. you had wanted to stay awake to see where he was taking you, but with the excitement from packing for the trip you hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, and the feeling of warm sunshine on your face and the rolling of the car had put you right to sleep.

rubbing your eyes, you stare out the window to see what he’s talking about, but it only takes you a few seconds to immediately recognize where you are. you gasp, looking over at him, and he grins back.

“surprise,” he smiles, watching your giddy reaction as the car moves along the familiar coastal highway. it’s the same little town you spent your honeymoon with him years ago, the one you’ve always said you’d wanted to visit again, but between both of your busy lives and his jobs getting in the way, you haven’t had the chance to.

you lean forward and stick your head out of the car, inhaling the fresh, salty sea air.

alexander pulls into the hotel parking lot: a small but grand little villa that, by the looks of it, hasn’t changed much since the last time you were here. eagerly you hop out and come around to meet him at the other side of the car. he gives you a kiss on the cheek as he stands up, shutting the car door and taking your hand to lead you towards the arched entrance.

when you pull open the door, the foyer is just like how you remember it. tall glass windows offer stunning views of the cliffs, paintings of ocean scenes hang on the walls, and baskets of driftwood and seashells sit atop every antique wooden table. you walk across the room to pick up a magazine off one of the tables, flipping through it to see advertisements for local restaurants, wine tastings, and local art shows.

you’re so invested reading an article about whale watching boat tours that you don’t notice alex slip upstairs, disappearing for no more than a few minutes before he casually returns to the entryway and calls your name, gesturing for you to see the rest of the place.

muscle memory comes back to you as your feet carry you up the stairs and around the corner to the same bedroom you’d stayed in so long ago. he follows after you, the corner of his lips turned up as he watches your excitement. it’s not often you get to go on vacation together, and he’s determined to make sure this anniversary is one you won’t forget.

standing outside the room you push open the door, but when you see what’s inside you nearly drop everything you’re holding. the entire room is covered in flowers, with pink peonies and pretty white blooms in vases on every table, and rose petals scattered across the bed. by the mini refrigerator there’s a bottle of champagne resting in a bucket of ice, a little note attached with a bow around the neck of the bottle.

you turn around and alexander is right behind you, carefully watching your reacting with a smile.

you throw your arms around him and he chuckles, walking backwards into the room with you in his arms. the luggage in the open car trunk is long forgotten as his lips finally press against yours, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

—— 16TH JUNE.

“are you ready?”

despite your nerves, alexander’s voice is calm as he sits beside you in the driver’s seat of the car. your dress bunches up around you as you push the fabric out of the way, leaning across the cupholders to kiss him, the first of many kisses today and over the years that will come.

it had been a long but happy year since your coincidental meeting at the grocery, which he'd later revealed had been not-so-coincidental after all. but the initial shock of learning who he was and what he did had eventually worn off, and the two of you had come out together stronger than ever.

he smiles against your lips before leaning away to push the keys into the ignition, and you look out your passenger side window one more time. a small group of your closest friends and family stand outside the car, waving bouquets of bright pink peonies.

alex twists around to look over his shoulder at the rear window, where the words “just married” are written in chalk marker, as he reverses out of the parking lot.

once everyone is out of sight, you begin to relax into your seat, kicking off the shoes that have been hurting your feet all night. you’re leaving before any of your guests are, having stayed at the reception just long enough to cut the cake and have your first dance, so it’s still early enough in the evening to have some time to yourselves.

“where are we going?” you ask, reclining the seat a little with a sigh as you gaze out the window. the stars are beginning to come out, little twinkling lights in the dusk sky, and you smile as you think about today, finally a moment to relax and reflect on everything.

your new husband grins and shakes his head, keeping one hand on the wheel as he slides the other across the seat to intertwine his fingers with yours. “can’t say. it’s a surprise.”

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. — @betsybat @wandalfnation @princess76179 @zooni92802 ^^ (i added everyone on my taglist, but please lmk if you'd only like to be tagged for specific fandoms in the future!)

if you enjoyed this, please reblog or let me know in a comment or an ask! feedback helps so much with motivation and gives me energy to continue writing :) thanks for reading!

#☆ { luna writes. } ☆#the day of the jackal #the jackal #eddie redmayne #alexander duggan #charles calthrop #eddie redmayne x reader #alexander duggan x reader #charles calthrop x reader #jackal x reader #tdotj fanfic #tdotj fanfiction #eddie redmayne fanfic #alexander duggan fanfic #the day of the jackal 2024 #jackal #bro has an infinite amount of names how do i tag them all !!#hope this reaches the right ppl </3

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levis-poison-is-my-medicine · 2 months ago

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Warm Spring Days

(The Tea Lovers Pt. 12 - Epilogue)

A Levi x reader fanfic

Crossposted from AO3

tags: fluff and humor, silly and sweet, tea-obsessed fem!reader with their head in the clouds (word count: 1.2k)

(Part one) / (Levi x reader Masterlist)

"Yoo-hoo!" Someone was calling out to you from afar, a dark silhouette against the afternoon sun, waving energetically as they came closer. Levi set down his tea cup with a sigh.

"That's why we should've had teatime in my office," he muttered.

"But it's such a nice day! It would've been a crime not to make the most of this perfect spring weather. Besides, you could really use some sun." You gestured at his pale complexion, earning you a scoff.

"I think I can do without. I'm not a plant. I'd rather have tea in peace than–"

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you!" Hange interrupted, having finally reached the wooden table near the horses' paddocks where you'd convinced Levi to spend your teatime. "Got some mail for you!"

You squinted up at Hange, eyeing the brown package they eagerly thrust toward you. "What? For me? Are you sure?" During your entire time in the scouts, you hadn't received a single package. You didn't even attend mail call anymore.

"It sure has your name on it. But if you don't want it..." Hange teasingly pulled the package out of your reach.

"Noo I want it!" you exclaimed, jumping up from your seat to reach for it. When you snatched it from Hange's hands, you let out a surprised huff of air. It was heavier than it looked.

"Who could it be from?" You turned it in your hands, looking for the sender. There it was, written in a neat, elegant script: Pierre's premium porcelain pottery, Millstone Alley 15, Mitras.

You squealed. "It's from Pierre!"

"Who's Pierre?" Levi asked with a frown.

"The potter I told you about – the one who specializes in tea sets, where I also got your birthday present." The grin on your face was nothing short of ecstatic as you settled back onto the bench, the precious package pressed to your chest.

Levi didn't seem to share your enthusiasm. "Did you order another one? You already have so many."

"I swear, I didn't order anything! And I don't even have that many... Just seven. Okay, maybe eight. But there's no such thing as too many tea sets!"

"Remind me again, who was complaining just the other day that they're running out of space in the barracks?" Levi raised an eyebrow.

"I can always put up another shelf…" you pouted.

"Uh-oh, do I sense a lover's quarrel coming on?" Hange chimed in, a playful grin on their lips. "I better run before you make me pick a side."

Levi rolled his eyes. "Yeah, go ahead. Best idea you had all day, four eyes."

"You're just saying that because you know they'd be on my side." You flashed Levi a grin.

"Tch, you wish. All I want is some peace and quiet around here."

"You may have picked the wrong company for that," Hange said with a wink, giving a nod in your direction where you were now gleefully tearing the brown packing paper from the box.

Levi's only response was a pointed glare in Hange's direction – his signature death glare, no less.

They put up their hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, I get it. She's the apple of your eye, your one and only… of course you'd make an exception for her."

Levi grumbled something under his breath, too quiet to be understood.

Hange chuckled. "Yep, time to leave if I want to make it out alive."

With one last smirk, they turned and walked away, leaving Levi shaking his head.

You barely paid any attention to the exchange, too excited to see what was in the mystery box.

With a dramatic flourish, you lifted the lid, revealing a card with elegant handwriting mirroring the one on the box.

Spring has come, and with it a new collection. Enclosed you will find its distinguished centerpiece. With heartfelt gratitude for the inspiration, Pierre.

Curiosity piqued, you reached deeper into the box and retrieved the rest. It was a tea set, complete with two cups, saucers, and a matching pot. Each piece featured a familiar cat, its nose wrinkled in mild disgruntlement. Cat-Levi.

You gasped. "It's you!"

"It's Herbert," Levi said dryly.

He had picked up one of the cups and gingerly turned it between his fingers.

"You remember that?" you asked, stunned.

"Of course I do."

You felt a smile spread across your face. "It's actually you. If you were a cat."

Levi snorted. "That's ridiculous. It looks nothing like me."

You leaned over the table and held the cup next to his face. "Not true. You're both very cute." In the pink-golden hue of the low afternoon sun, it almost looked like he was blushing. Almost. Levi let out a quiet huff. "You said the same thing back then, too. About the cat."

You tilted your head, eyes drifting upward as you pondered the question. "Did I?"

"You did."

"Hmm. Guess I already had a thing for you then." You put the cup down, leaning in even further. "But I remember doing this." You planted a quick peck on his cheek and pulled back slightly, a playful spark in your eyes.

"You always did have a way of surprising me," Levi murmured, his gaze lingering on your face.

"Trust me, I surprise myself a lot, too. I don't even know what I'll do next half the time." You chuckled softly, leaning back. "But I do like where it's taken me."

For moment, neither of you said a word.

"Hey, Levi?"

"Mhm?"

"If we ever do manage to rid the world of the Titans, and there is no need for the scouts anymore... would you like to open a tea shop with me?"

"I would like that."

"I'm glad." You beamed at him. "You could be in charge of the tea leaves. And I'd learn pottery so we could sell our own porcelain. Ohh, maybe we could do a bird design next! With their wings spread wide, like the wings of freedom! Or we could do one with Titans! I'm sure Hange would love that."

"I don't think the latter would sell too well," Levi remarked dryly.

"Maybe not. But we could do limited editions, each teacup unique with a different design…" You continued to lay out your plans like that, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, until the shadows grew long and the air grew cold. Teatime slipped away, giving way to the night. He didn't even notice. Your smile was so warm and bright, how could he look at anything else?

– –

Many years later, many miles beyond the sea, another warm spring day was ending on a busy street. It was filled with people heading home, passing by the shop windows that reflected the golden-orange sky above them. A bell chimed softly as the door of a shop shut behind its last customer of the day. The wooden sign out front swung gently in the breeze. The Tea Lovers.

A/n: And with this, The Tea Lovers comes to an end. Writing this was so much fun, and I want to thank each and everyone of you who encouraged me with your kind words!! You guys have no idea how happy it made me. I'll be sure to write something else in the future, so if you'd like to be tagged for future works, follow this link to join my tag list. See you <3

Tag list: @thechaoticarchivist, @mmm-alhaitham, @nironasaran, @leviiheichou, @huffleruffplant, @shutupp1, @iifrui, @shakysif, @ickearmn, @omlyurslvi, @wingoodlilboymyway, @dreamersbelieveinus

#levi ackerman #levi #aot #levi x reader #levi aot #captain levi #attack on titan #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #snk levi #shingeki no kyojin #snk #levi fluff #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction

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