#take this as an open invite to add me to your taglists if you have them!!!

[denimshortsdean]

sometimes i think about how many fan works there are for spn and I get a little bit upset because I'll probably never see it all and I just want to love on the fan work as much as I can. Like what do you MEAN you made this yourself just because you love the show/characters that much, that is the most beautiful thing you could possibly do!!

[chloe-petrichors]

seething, blooming // jace x reader

your father has always been something of an opportunist, but trying to marry you off to the blacks while he courts the greens? this is taking playing the game to a whole new level.

the rose discovers she is an instrument of war. —victor hugo.

fandom; house of the dragon pairing; jacaerys velaryon x f!tyrell!reader (no use of y/n) warnings; canon au (set after aegon takes the crown but before luke's death bc luke will never die in my eyes), altered timeline (jace and reader are in their 20s), arranged marriage, mention parental death/death in childbed (reader's mother), love at first sight vibes, jace is a flirtatious little shit with his betrothed, tooth rotting fluff, love confessions. word count; 6k+ notes; one day i might write for another man. but that day is not today. jace velaryon u have my heart. i'm not majorly pleased w this fic but it's given me enough trouble and it's as good as it's gonna get! this was longer originally, and was meant to be a bit more political at first hence the blurb/quote choice, but i haaated some of the scenes so ended up scrapping 'em. she's not as long as predicted as a result but still an ok length i think. some of the scenes i scrapped were tragically the smut ones, so have this fairly pg one-shot with the promise of the smut-shot sitting in my drafts coming ur way soon. fair warning that the scrapping of scenes has fudged with the pacing a bit but honestly i can't take this fic sitting in my drafts any longer so here u go!! i have a taglist now, mostly cos eldrith keeps telling me i have to tag her in everything, so lmk if you'd like to be added to it! requests; are open !

the rising sun paints highgarden in shades of pink and gold.

you stand upon your balcony, finger curled loosely over the pale marble as you stare distantly out over the rolling green fields and blooming gardens. the faint bubbling of the river mander in the distance adds to the peaceful morning, the early wash of sunlight coaxing the sleeping world into life. a cool breeze carries the sweet smell of roses and you take a steadying breath, eyes fluttering shut as you tilt your face up to the sun.

it's a morning that starts like many others. you’ve always risen from bed early, the slow blooming of morning stirring you from slumber more often than not. birds chirp and bees buzz and the river flows and you rise with it, like part of you calls to the breaking dawn.

if not for the thick sheaf of parchment discarded on your father’s desk, it could be a morning like any other. but the parchment is there, and this day will be like no other before it.

today, a dragon is expected at highgarden.

a targaryen has not stepped foot in the reach since before you were born. you don’t think even the princess rhaenyra – queen, now, according to some – had come this far on her marriage tour years ago. but your father has taken it upon himself to invite a prince to your home.

you love your father deeply, but in this you think he must be a fool. as lord paramount of the reach he is, in theory, the power of this kingdom. but anyone with a lick of sense knows that it’s the hightowers that the people look to; oldtown is home to the starry sept, the citadel and, perhaps more importantly, the dowager queen’s family line.

the tyrells have only been in power for a few generations, and people’s memories are long. too many know the truth of how house tyrell had been only a steward when the gardener kings had ruled before the conquest. and so too many see tyrell as a house grasping for power that should be beyond their fingers, and your father is apparently determined to prove them all right.

he’s been careful about his neutrality as war threatens to break out between the targaryen kin, brother and sister both claiming their right to the throne and the realm splitting down the middle. your father has not officially allied with either side, walking a careful tightrope to appease both. up until now you had assumed he sided more with the greens, but he’d sent your assumptions crumbling with only a few sheets of parchment.

your father has always been too ambitious for his own good.

gods, how you miss your mother. when she’d been alive, she’d tempered the worst of your father’s foolishness. she’d been a stark before she’d married, steadfast and sensible in the face of your father’s folly. she’d been a woman unlike any other you’ve known; ferocious and a little wild, but with a good heart and a warm smile for any she’d met.

she’d taught you how to be a lady, but so much more than that – she’d taught you to know your own mind. to know when to mind your tongue and when to speak, how to grow your roots so deep you will always stand tall, flourishing and growing like the most determined of flowers. she’d taught you a little of that northern ice, too, reminding you oft that for as much as you were a rose of highgarden you were equally a wolf of the north, and the wolf’s blood has always run thick in your veins. 

she’d called you her little winter rose; delicate and steely and a rare bloom, indeed. she had loved you so fiercely you’d flourished with her tender care, just as the patch of winter roses she’d brought from the glass gardens of winterfell had bloomed ‘neath her careful ministrations. a piece of the north she’d brought south with her, a tiny bit of her home that she’d cradled and cared for until the day you’d lost her to the birthing bed.

your little brother is nearing six, now, and many moons have passed since the sudden grief of your mother had overwhelmed you. but, in recent days you have ached with her loss more often, wondering what she would think of your father’s plans, what she would say to soothe your storm of anxiety. with your looming marriage you find yourself missing your mother acutely, the grief a reopened wound in your chest.

because you are a betrothed woman, now, to be married to a stranger, a prince who is sure to be fighting a war against his kin in the moons to come.

the velaryon prince arrives on dragon back as the sun reaches its peak in the sky.

he dismounts his winged steed in an empty stretch of land a distance from the keep itself, and your father greets him there with a host of staff to accompany him back to the entrance courtyard.

your brother leo bounces in place beside you where you stand with the rest of the household in the courtyard, fairly vibrating with energy at the prospect of seeing a real-life dragon. since the news of the prince’s arrival was announced a sennight ago, leo has done little else but babble about dragons and magic and targaryens. you wish you could share his excitement, his sheer uncomplicated joy, but this visit comes with too many conflicting emotions for you to enjoy it at all.

you’ve always known you would not marry for love. you are the eldest child and only daughter of the lord of the reach – love has never been a factor you could afford to consider. you would do your duty and marry for your house, to seal whatever alliance your father deemed important enough. you’d resigned yourself to this fate as a young girl when your mother had told you in slow, halting words the fear she had felt coming south to marry your father.

but you’d not expected to marry a total stranger. you’d thought your father would at least do you the courtesy of allowing you to meet a suitor before betrothing you to them, but in his feverish ambition to sit his blood on the iron throne he’d promised you to a man you’ve never laid eyes upon.

you don’t want to be queen.

frankly, you think yourself a touch unsuited for it. your father has many times bemoaned your wildness, the wolfs blood that drives you to stubborn recklessness. though you’ve mellowed a little with age and experience, you think you’re still a bit too prone to chaos to be queen of the seven kingdoms one day. never mind the complexities added by the fact that queen rhaenyra’s claim is so fiercely contested, and her half-brother is the one currently physically sitting the iron throne.

thinking about the mess you’re marrying into too much makes your head ache, and the blazing noon sun does little to ease it. leo beside you continues to whisper rapidly about everything he knows about dragons, which is actually quite a lot considering his young age. you think absently you might need to have a word with the maester’s again; leo has wrapped most of the household around his finger, and the elderly maester is prone to indulging your brother when he fixates on a new topic of interest instead of sticking to his lessons.

the sound of hooves on cobble stones startles you from your meandering thoughts, and you straighten your spine as your eyes take in the unfamiliar man riding into the courtyard beside your father while your brother finally falls silent.

he’s handsome, at least; a tumble of dark curls brushing his shoulders, a sharp jaw and a strong nose. though you like to think yourself more than superficial, it eases at least some of your worries to know the prince is attractive to you. your mother had done you the courtesy of explaining what was expected of you on your wedding night after your first moons blood, and in secret since you’d perused the library for books detailing more lustful acts in an effort to satiate your unending curiosity.

you’re worried enough about completing your wifely duties without having to worry about finding the man lying with you repulsive, and so you allow yourself a few moments of relief at his pretty face.

your father dismounts first, gesturing for you to step forward as the prince gets down from his own horse. leo moves forward with you, eyes wide and shining with something akin to hero worship as he gazes at jacaerys. you have a wry thought that perhaps he should marry him since he is so clearly already enamoured, but you brush that aside as your father and the prince approach.

“i am most pleased to introduce my daughter, your grace, as well as my son and heir, leo,” your father says as they reach you, his satisfaction in his successful planning clear as he smiles smugly.

you dip into a perfect curtsey as leo bows a touch clumsily at your side. as heir it would traditionally be leo’s job to greet the prince, but when you send him a sidelong glance you see he is too busy making moon eyes at the darkhaired man to say anything, and so you take it upon yourself to speak.

“welcome to highgarden, my prince. we are honoured to host you,” you greet, finally meeting jacaerys’s eyes. they’re a warm amber shade, the noon sun turning them to liquid honey as he looks at you, and you feel your cheeks flush with the appreciation you can see in his gaze as he drinks you in. it seems he does not find you repulsive either, at least.

he sketches a quick bow, eyes never leaving yours, and you feel your heart start to race in your chest at his attention. “it is an honour to be here, my lady, and to finally make your acquaintance.” he smiles at you then, small and a little crooked but there, and your flush deepens. “i look forward to getting to know you better in the coming days.”

you swallow, hoping your budding attraction is not as obvious as you fear it is. your father is looking increasingly smug as he watches the interaction, though it seems to war with some paternal annoyance as jacaerys lightly flirts with you.

“and i you,” you return softly, a smile quirking on your lips.

“—can i meet your dragon?” leo bursts out, seemingly unable to contain himself any longer, and jacaerys blinks down at him in surprise as you resist the urge to press your palm to your face.

“leo,” you scold immediately as your father chortles at his heir’s enthusiasm for dragons. “the prince has had a long journey. you should give him a chance to settle in before demanding anything of him.”

“right you are, my dear.” your father waves to the household steward before turning to the prince. “alyn will show you to your rooms, your grace, so that you might freshen up, and then we have a feast prepared for this evening to welcome you to highgarden.”

jacaerys nods easily as the greeting crowd begins to disperse, the maester corralling leo to take him for his lessons with fond exasperation even as the boy loudly protests. you mean to go walk the gardens, and so you stay standing in place as the prince trails after your father and steward alyn.

he pauses beside you, though, a slight smile on his face as you look up at him questioningly. your eyes catch on the smattering of freckles on his face, and it takes a moment for you to process his words. “i look forward to speaking to you further at the feast, my lady.”

you smile back at him, cheeks flushing once again as his eyes linger on your mouth for a breathless moment. “i shall save you a dance, my prince,” you return a touch coyly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“only one dance?” he teases, eyebrow arching.

you hum, head tilting to the side in mock consideration as something like satisfaction gleams in jacaerys’s eyes. “i shall have to use the first dance to judge your dancing skills, your grace, before i risk promising you another.”

he laughs then, a little surprised but no doubt pleased as his eyes crinkle with his wide smile. “then i shall do my best to meet your standards, my lady.” he dips into a quick bow of farewell, then, as you finally take note of your father lingering on the steps to the keep with raised eyebrows.

“we shall see,” you return as you curtsey.

you allow yourself a moment to watch his retreating back, eyes dragging over the strong line of his shoulders before you internally shake yourself and head to the gardens, thoughts swimming with honey brown eyes and tanned, freckled skin and a slow dawning certainty that while this betrothal may be unexpected, you doubt it will leave you unsatisfied.

the feast is in full swing by the time the prince arrives at the hall.

the minstrels are playing a jaunty tune as couples twirl on the dance floor. you sit at the head table with leo and your father, watching with a careful eye as your brother cuts up his food. he’s only just mastered the art of eating his food without spilling half if it down his doublet, but as distracted as he is by the festivities and the prospect of seeing a dragon close up, you worry he’s at risk of making a mess of himself regardless.

so absorbed in your task you are, it takes a long moment for you to realise jacaerys has arrived. it’s only when your skin prickles with awareness that you look up from leo and catch sight of the prince winding his way across the floor to the head table, eyes fixed on you. your head tilts to the side slightly as you watch him move, graceful and controlled, through the crowd.

he’s in black and red again, just as he had been when he’d arrived. it seems your father had been right when he’d stated that jacaerys favours his mother’s house colours. you smooth your hand over the skirts of your dress, the deep wine-red of the material feeling less out of place now, before standing with your father to greet the prince.

you all exchange pleasantries quickly as the noise in the hall dims, people realising the prince has arrived. your father ushers jacaerys into the empty seat between you and your father as he raises his goblet to the hall before speaking in his booming voice.

you don’t pay attention to your father’s speech, too aware of the warmth radiating from jacaerys who stands only inches from you to focus. you risk a glance at him from the corner of your eyes only to find his dark honey eyes fixed on you, and you cannot help but smile to yourself even as you flush, turning your eyes back to the crowd.

rousing applause and cheers draw you back to the moment, and you catch yourself in time to raise your wine in toast with your father. you go to sit back down as the crowd returns to its revelries, but the soft brush of a hand on your arm halts your movement. you turn expectingly to the prince, a soft smile on your lips.

“yes, your grace?”

“would you do me the honour of a dance, my lady?”

your lips quirk into a sly smile even as you bob your head in a nod. “i suppose i did promise you one, did i not?”

“that you did, my lady, and i have thought of nothing else since.” dark honey eyes sparkle with mirth as he offers you his hand, and with a quiet giggle you take it and allow him to lead you to the dance floor.

you feel the heat of his hand on your waist like a brand even through the layers of your dress, and it makes your breath catch in your throat. you inhale deeply in an effort to steady yourself as you rest your palm on his strong shoulder, and are immediately overwhelmed by the woodsy scent of him as he claps your hand in his and begins to dance.

you start the dance in comfortable silence, both of you taking a few moments to get a feel for the other and settle into the steps, and when you feel comfortable enough you speak.

“how are you finding highgarden, prince jacaerys?”

“jace, please,” he entreats, and elaborates only when you blink at him in confusion. “my friends and family call me jace, not jacaerys. we are to be married, my lady. it would please me a great deal for my future wife to refer to me as such.”

you nod in acceptance, butterflies erupting in your stomach at his eager expression. “jace it is, then,” you say, and try not to feel the way your heart flutters at his radiant smile in response. “although you have not answered my question. how are you finding highgarden?”

he hums, twirling you as the dance requires and then pulling you closer before responding. “your father has been very hospitable, and it is certainly beautiful here. the grounds especially, though i’m afraid i’ve not had the opportunity to see much of them as yet.”

“a shame we shall have to rectify, i think.” you offer him a small smile as you press just an inch closer, finding yourself wanting to be nearer him. “perhaps i could show you the gardens on the morrow?”

“yes,” he agrees a touch too quickly, and you giggle as his cheeks turn pink. “that is to say— i should like that very much, my lady. very much indeed.”

you lapse into silence once more as the dance reaches its crescendo, and you find yourself reluctant to leave the comfort of his hands as the music pauses while the minstrels ready their next song.

jace seems to share the sentiment, it seems, as his eyes linger on your entwined hands for a long moment before returning to your face. “have i met your standards enough for another dance, then?”

you take a moment to pretend to consider it, eyes narrowing slightly as you hum. he shuffles on his feet as he waits for your response, and you find the nervous motion far too endearing.

“i suppose so,” you concede after a moment, grinning at his smugly pleased smile as he tugs you closer.

“and what about the dance after that?” he asks lightly, something cheeky in his eyes as the music starts up again and he sweeps you along the floor.

“you should not press your luck, jace,” you say imperiously, although the effect is rather ruined by the silly smile on your face as he laughs with you.

jacaerys smirks. “my lady, since meeting you, i have felt nothing but a lucky man.”

you smother a snort, shaking your head at his unrepentant expression. “you are incorrigible.” it comes out a touch exasperated and yet far too fond.

“yes,” the prince agrees readily, a sly twinkle in his eyes. “but i think you rather enjoy it.”

your startled laugh is loud, though thankfully not so loud as to be heard over the minstrels. “perhaps.”

after that, the night is lost to flirtatious banter and dance after dance in your betrothed’s arms as a seed of affection is planted deep in your heart. and when you wake in the morning after dreaming of nothing but jace’s lips and eyes and words, you can think only one thought;

gods, i am in so much trouble.

time passes in a slow trickle of syrupy summer heat.

as the days go by, you find yourself spending more and more time in jace’s company. you’re always chaperoned, of course, a household guard following at a respectful distance wherever the two of you choose to roam. you find the whole thing a touch ridiculous; jace is to be your husband. it’s hardly like spending time together alone would be a significant scandal in light of your impending marriage, but your father insists there will be no doubts about your honour before the marriage actually takes place and so ser dickon is assigned as your reluctant shadow.

the date of the wedding itself remains unset as you and jace start to know one another. your father wishes for the marriage to wait until the war is done – a last-ditch chance to keep his options open, perhaps. Or, if you are feeling generous, a way to try and keep you safe from the greens when war inevitably rages. jace’s mother wishes the marriage to happen as soon as can be arranged – a way to try and ensure further heirs with the uncertainty of war looming, you assume.

you find yourself hoping the queen’s will wins the day as time creeps on. jace becomes ever dearer to you the more you learn about him, and soon you think of your impending marriage with nothing but hope and warm desire.

because oh, how you want him. from the first moment you’d laid eyes upon him you’d been attracted to him, but the more you get to know him, the more your heart opens to him – the more you ache for him. for his mouth on yours, his fingertips on your skin, his voice in your ear. if you were a less reckless woman, a little less shameless, you’d be embarrassed of how easily you think of him in your moments apart.

but late at night when the candles burn low and you are alone in your bed, there is no shame to be found, only the wildness of your wolfs blood and liquid heat as your hand drifts between your legs and you find completion with your betrothed’s name on your lips.

beyond the desire, though, is a slow blooming affection. it feels like every time you learn something new about him or share a new experience together, another petal of tenderness unfurls in your chest. when your father had first told you about your betrothal, you’d not dared to hope for more than civility with your husband-to-be, but now you find yourself harbouring deep fondness on top of steadily burning desire, and you look to your future as his wife with little else but excitement.

you’re not sure if jace feels the same. you don’t doubt he desires you; his flirtation and the weight of his gaze on your form is too frequent a thing for you to think otherwise. but desire is not the same as affection, and though you hope desperately that the way he always seeks your presence whenever he steps into a room means what you want it to mean, you can’t be sure.

after a week passes, you both start to chafe at the relentless presence of ser dickon. it feels like every time you so much as think about inching closer to jacaerys, ser dickon is there with his stern glare of disapproval. and so, when one morning jace suggests taking you to meet his dragon, alone, you are quick to agree.

you leave your guard long behind at jace’s instruction; he doesn’t want vermax crowded with strangers, he explains, but you personally think he seems a little too gleeful at the idea of being alone with you for that to be sole reason behind his insistence ser dickon stays far away. you don’t say anything since you’re equally pleased to finally be spending some time with your betrothed without feeling others curious eyes on you.

your excitement starts to waver, however, as you and jace get closer to his dragon. you’ve only seen vermax from a distance before this, and though it perhaps shouldn’t the size of him startles you. he’s just so large and fierce looking, the sharp spines on his back catching your eye. the beast yawns as you slow to a stop, jace sending you a quick smile before he continues on to greet his dragon with fondness, and the glimpse into vermax’s open maw – gods, there as so many teeth – has your palms starting to sweat.

jace stands beside his dragon, murmuring soothing words in high valyrian that you don’t understand as his hand smooths along his snout. your heart races in your chest, nerves making your hands shake when faced with this great beast. you curse your reckless curiosity, your northern stubbornness that makes it impossible for you to refuse a challenge. you have no idea how jace can look so at ease, the line of his shoulders relaxed and the slightest smile on his face as he talks to his winged steed, but there he stands.

“you can come closer now.” he turns to you, brown eyes shining with excitement and, yes, a hint of challenge.

he expects you to back out, you think, and that realisation has you straightening your spine and pressing your lips together. you twist your fingers in your skirts to hide the way they tremble as you step cautiously forward, eyes darting from jace to vermax and back. when you’re within touching distance of the velaryon prince, he reaches for your hand. the shock of his bare skin against yours arrests you for a moment, the slide of calloused fingers around your wrist startling in how easily it sparks desire in you.

you’re so distracted by the feel of him that you don’t realise until it’s too late that jace has tugged you closer, guiding your hand until it’s pressed to vermax’s scales, and then you’re too busy being surprised by how soft they feel to be annoyed that he’s so easily coaxed you into this position.

you still as the dragon rumbles, swallowing thickly as your fingers twitch against green scales. he blinks lazily at you, an alien intellect gleaming there as he seems to consider you for a long moment, and as you blink back at him some of the fear in your chest shakes loose.

because this is not just some beast, you realise. this is fire and blood and magic made flesh. there is life and intelligence in vermax’s eyes, not one you recognise but one you immediately respect. being this close to the dragon is a heady rush of awe and adrenaline; the knowledge that vermax could so easily harm you at any moment but is choosing not to because he trusts his rider. it’s staggering and wonderful and beside you jace is beaming, eyes shining with happiness at seeing you greet his draconic companion, and you are helplessly, hopelessly, wholly overwhelmed by your affection, your desire, by jace.

you kiss him.

it’s barely a kiss, more a breathless press of your mouth against his, and he startles at the sensation even as his arm loops around your waist. you break apart for the barest moment, nose sliding against his as you tilt your head, and jacaerys sighs out your name with heavy relief before he captures your mouth once more.

you’ve been kissed before, so you know the mechanics of it, but it’s never been like this. his lips move smoothly against yours as his hand flexes on your waist, drawing you closer until your chest is pressed against his. your hand tangles in his hair, fingers twisting in the soft curls and he moans with it, hand dragging up your back to cradle the back of your head tenderly as his tongue sweeps over your lips.

the gentle pressure of it has you gasping and he takes the opportunity immediately, tongue sliding against yours as heat pools in your core. your thoughts tumble wildly, incoherent as you can think of nothing but of how desperately you want more. the taste – the smell – the feel of him is drowning everything out that isn’t jace and you cannot resist it, do not even want to.

you want to kiss him forever, want his hand in your hair and his tongue in your mouth for always. you think he might even let you with how relentless he is, barely giving you a moments pause to catch your breath before consuming you in another desperate kiss.

you finally part only when vermax grumbles, cheeks blazing with heat as you step out of jace’s arms. jace murmurs lowly to his dragon in valyrian, and he nudges his great snout against jace’s shoulder in response before stepping away and curling down into the long grass to sleep. you take the moment to properly catch your breath again, hand pressing to your heaving chest in an effort to soothe your racing heart.

when you peek up at jace from beneath your lashes, you flush deeply at the sight of him. his curls are a mess, his lips swollen and cheeks pink beneath his tan. he looks almost debauched, and it sends a rush of desire through you. you suddenly can think of nothing other than him looking like this only flusher and skin glistening with sweat and in your bed.

the thought startles you into dropping your gaze to your feet, and you shuffle uncertainly. you feel – unsettled. you don’t think there’s anything wrong with sharing a kiss with your betrothed, and yet something like guilt curdles in your stomach as you worry at your bottom lip. you had kissed him. for all that he’d kissed you back, you worry that now he will think differently of you. think worse of you.

a knuckle tucks under your chin, then, lifting your face so that you meet jace’s eyes. you feel small and strangely vulnerable in the aftermath of your kiss, like you have somehow shown him something you never intended to, and the urge to shy away remains. but you are not a winter rose for nothing and so you tuck the doubt away as jace runs his thumb soothingly along the line of your jaw.

“i have been thinking of doing that since the moment you first smiled at me,” he confesses, a hint of shyness in the quirk of his lips even as he stares steadily into your eyes.

“oh.” you blink at him once in surprise, the uneasiness in you finally settling at the fondness in his gaze. “oh. that’s— good.” you curse yourself for your lack of wit in this moment as jace snickers.  “i-i mean, i’m glad that it was not… unwelcome.”

your betrothed looks at you with deep affection, then, cupping your cheek and ducking down to press a fleeting, butterfly-soft kiss to your mouth before reluctantly parting from you. “it was most welcome, my lady. most welcome, indeed.” his eyes sparkle with mirth. “i find myself looking forward to the next time you greet vermax, if this is the kind of response such a thing garners.”

“jace!” you narrow your eyes at him in pretend annoyance, even as you smother a giggle with your fingers. “you should not expect me to indulge in such desires again, then, if you persist in being so smug about it.”

his laugh warms you as the two of you fall into easy banter, leaving vermax to his rest and returning to the ever-watchful ser dickon, and all the while all you can think of is how much you cannot wait to kiss him again.

as the air cools with the dying light of day, you lead jace to the gardens.

in the week since your first kiss, jace has oft tugged you into shadowy corners for more kisses any chance he’s had. his desire for you is matched only by your own for him, and as your confidence in your mutual attraction has grown, you have been equally as likely to pull him into a dark alcove to trade sweet words and sweet kisses in secret.

it’s thrilling and exciting and wonderful, but as the week passes you find a growing doubt whispering in the back of your mind.

while you cannot doubt jace desires you, not when he is so relentless in chasing after your smiling mouth, neither of you breathe a word of any feeling between you beyond attraction. perhaps it is reckless of you, foolhardy to fall for him so quickly – but then you are your parent’s daughter, all wolfs blood and deep roots, and you know no other way of being than this.

so you take him to the gardens as the moon rises in the sky, sneak past the night guards and out into the fresh air. you guide him through the blooming flowers and swaying trees, stopping along the while when the fancy takes one of you to stop and examine an interesting bloom or inhale a sweet scent. at least three times he stops you to slot his mouth against yours, to swallow your breathless giggling with feverish kisses, and each time he does it takes longer and longer for you to disentangle yourselves from each other.

eventually, with swollen lips and mussed hair, the two of you reach the winter roses. your effervescent mood becomes sombre as the moon shines on the blue flowers, turning the petals almost silver, and jace seems to recognise the change in atmosphere, a seriousness overtaking him as he watches you approach the flowers.

“my mother planted the first of these roses,” you tell jace as you kneel at the edge of the flowerbed, uncaring of the risk of dirt on your dress as you brush fingers over the pale blue petals tenderly. “winter roses, they are, from the north. from winterfell. she was born a stark, you see, and when she was betrothed to my father the only thing she asked was to be able to bring a few blooms from the glass gardens. she used to call me her little winter rose when i was a child, and she would bring me here and show me how to tend to them.”

jace kneels beside you, glancing at the side of your face before turning to look curiously at the blue flowers. “they’re beautiful,” he tells you sincerely.

“i’ve always thought so, too,” you agree almost absently, stroking the petals in an effort to calm your racing heart. “everyone told my mother she’d never be able to get them to grow so far south. they’re very rare, you see, and need very particular conditions.” your lips quirk up into a fond smile. “but my mother, for all that she became a tyrell, was always a stark at heart. stubborn, you know. and now look at them, thriving.”

you gesture out at the carefully tended rows of roses. “nobody else comes here, now, other than the gardeners and me. i think… i think my father finds it too hard, being here. it makes him miss her too much. so i come here when i need to be alone. or when i wish to be reminded of her. it's the one place in the world where i feel i can be wholly myself, without any pretence or worry.”

jace’s gaze is fixed on you, now, eyes almost black in the faint moonlight as understanding dawns on him. “thank you for bringing me here.”

you nod once, climbing back to your feet, and jace follows you. he watches you so intently, like he’s afraid that you might disappear if he dares to look away. you feel a little like you might, feel tenuous and vulnerable and a breath away from cracking your chest open.

“i’ve never brought anyone else here,” you confess quietly, flexing your fingers with nerves as jace’s lips part in surprise. “i wished… i wished to share this with you. to share who i am, myself, with you, i suppose.” you laugh a little self-deprecatingly. “however pretentious that sounds.”

“it doesn’t,” jace denies immediately. you sense he wants to say more, but he seems to understand that you’re building to saying something yourself, and so he stays quiet, expression earnest and open and fond as he gazes down at you.

“i know it’s perhaps too soon – we have only known each other a few weeks. but i… when i first found out we were betrothed, i was so scared. i worried you would be some arrogant princeling, and i dared not hope for anything more than civility between us. i’ve always known i would not marry for love, but i did not ever consider i would marry a man i had never met.”

you pause for long enough to suck in a breath, feeling a little like the floodgates have opened and you simply can’t stop speaking, can’t stop the feeling pouring freely from you. “and then i met you, and you were so unlike anything i’d expected. i know we still have so much more to learn about each other, and i know that things are— complicated, with the war, and that our marriage may be a ways off yet, but still— i find myself feeling for you, and i cannot hide it anymore. i don’t wish to hide it from you anymore.”

you let the open affection in his face buoy you as you steel yourself, pressing your shoulders back in a mimicry of confidence. “i wanted to show you this part of me, this place, because i….” you hesitate for a breathless moment, biting your lip, before gathering every scrap of courage you possess and diving in headfirst. “i am falling in love with you, jacaerys.”

you inhale the sweet scent of the pale blue petals deeply, let the familiar scent soothe you as jace stares at you with wide eyes. the winter roses are something that, until now, have been so uniquely yours. as you’d told jace, none other than you and the gardeners comes to this corner of the gardens now. the staff that tend so carefully to the flowers know to leave you well enough alone if they stumble across you, skirts splayed on the ground and fingers diligently caring for the roses. you’ve never even brought your sweet little brother, though you can admit that’s for practicality as much as anything else – his childish energy is a bit too boisterous for these delicate blooms.

bringing jace here, bringing him here to confess the deepening affection you harbour for him, feels raw. feels like you’re tearing your heart out of your chest and offering it up to him for perusal, hands bloody and soul bare. feels like saying ‘this is all that i am and all that i have been and all i will ever be and i hope, i hope, i hope it’s enough.’

jace finally, finally speaks, sighs your name, soft and sweet and tender, and hope blooms in your chest.

“oh, my sweet lady,” he murmurs, crowding into your space as he cups your cheek, and the smell of woodsmoke and dragon and jace floods your senses. “i am falling so unbelievably in love with you. only, it does not feel so much like falling as it is like choosing it, like walking into love with you with my eyes wide open and seeing nothing but you.”

it's almost unbearable, the blazing heat of his gaze as he presses his forehead against yours, and it makes you tremble as your hands clutch as his elbows in an effort to ground yourself to this moment, to him. “our betrothal was decided for us without care or consideration for our own desires,” he says, lips brushing against your own with every whispered word. “i know that as well as you, but i need you to know that if i had the choice i would choose this. i would choose you, your stubborn heart, your fierce spirit, your gracious soul.”

his hand slides from your cheek to your hair, holds you so tenderly like you are something precious, and it steals your breath from your lungs as you revel in his unbridled affection. “i care not when we marry, if we marry, in truth, because in my heart you are already mine just as i am already yours.”

he kisses you, then, a desperate and greedy thing, as if he can no longer restrain himself from devouring you whole. and you are just as needy, hands fisting in his doublet as you press yourself against him and somehow finding yourself wishing to be closer still. the world narrows down to him and him only; his mouth, his hands, his hair. you can think of nothing else, and do not wish to, because in this moment you are wholly yourself and he is wholly himself and it’s enough, it’s wonderful and delicate and it’s enough.

and, there beneath the moonlight and amongst the winter roses, deep and enduring affection, the kind of love the bards sing songs about, takes root.

taglist; @eldrith

[lxndonorris]

a special day in maranello - Charles Leclerc

Y/N x Charles Leclerc Theme: Smut Charles shows off his special black Monza suit x word count: 4880+ taglist: @game-set-canet @pitstopreality-f1 if you dont want to be tagged, or you want to be tagged, just let me know! requests are open for x-reader or ships :) EN: Went a little further than expected, but I hope you'll enjoy this"

It is the week of the Monza Grand Prix, one of the most anticipated weekends of the year, not just for the Tifosi but for the entire motorsport world.

The atmosphere is electric, with fans flocking to the region to witness Ferrari in action on home soil. But before the chaos of Monza can begin, there is an important stop to make at Maranello.

The Ferrari headquarter in Maranello is a place Charles and you have come to love. But this visit is different. This time, it isn't just about the preparations or meetings. There is something special planned, something that has been kept under wraps until now.

Charles invited you to join him for a photoshoot, something that is supposed to be "special." That's all he would say about it. No details, no hints, just that mischievous smile of his that both excites and unnerves you. 

You are used to surprises with Charles, but this one has you feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

You arrived at Maranello in the early afternoon, the sun casting a golden glow over the landscape. Ferrari reserved a private room for you, a place where you could prepare for the shoot in peace.

The room is simple yet elegant, with a large window that offers a stunning view at the headquarters. Inside, there are racks of clothing, a few chairs, and a full-length mirror on one side. The gear is neatly arranged, but the most striking piece of equipment is a large, black privacy screen that stands in the corner.

Charles leads you into the room with his hand gently placed on the small of your back.

"This is it," he says with a grin. "Our little secret hideaway for the day."

You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm, but you are also burning with curiosity.

"So, what's this all about? You've been so mysterious lately."

He chuckles softly, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. 

"You'll see soon enough. But first, I need to get ready."

You watch as he walks over to the privacy screen, picking up a neatly folded set of clothing on the way.

You're really not going to tell me anything, are you?" You ask, crossing your arms with a playful pout.

"Nope," he replies with a wink, disappearing behind the screen. "But don't worry, you won't be disappointed."

You take a seat in one of the chairs, your eyes glued to the screen. Even though you can't see him, you can hear everything—the rustle of fabric, the soft hum of his voice as he starts to change—it all adds to the anticipation.

"So," Charles begins, his voice light and teasing, "you're probably wondering what I'm putting on first."

"Obviously," you reply, trying to sound casual even though your heart is racing.

He chuckles again, the sound warm and inviting.

"Well, first comes the Nomex. You know, the fire-resistant underwear. It's essential for safety, but it's also surprisingly comfortable. Here, let me show you."

'He's putting on a racing suit', is the first thing that comes to your mind, making your heart race faster. You love seeing him in his red suit, but this visit means only one thing: a special suit for Monza.

And, of course, he isn't going to show you right away. Instead, he describes the feel of the fabric as he slides on the shirt and pants, his tone almost sensual as he runs his hands along his chest.

"It's soft, like a second skin," he says, his voice dropping to a murmur. "It fits snugly, molding to every curve. You'd be surprised how something so thin can make you feel so safe."

You swallow hard, your imagination running wild.

"I bet it looks good on you."

"You'll have to wait and see," he teases, and you can practically hear the smile in his voice.

Next, there is a pause, followed by the sound of a zipper being pulled.

"Now, the racing suit," he announces, his tone turning playful again. "This is the real deal. It's custom made, fits like a glove, and when you put it on, you know you're ready for anything."

You lean forward in your chair, straining to hear every word.

"And how does it feel?"

Charles lets out a satisfied sigh, clearly enjoying himself.

"It feels powerful. When I zip it up, it's like I'm putting on armor. It's tight, but in a good way. Every movement feels controlled, precise. It's a part of me, and when I'm in the car, there is nothing else like it."

You bite your lip, trying to maintain some sembience of composure.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Maybe a little," he admits, laughing softly. "But I'm also enjoying teasing you. It's fun seeing you squirm."

"Charles!" You exclaim, unable to hide the smile in your voice.

"All right, all right," he says, his tone turning a bit more serious. "I think it's time for the big reveal. Are you ready?"

Your heart skips a beat. 

"Yes."

"Good," he replies. "I'm going to count down from five, and when I get to one, I'll step out. But I want you to promise me something."

"What's that?" you ask, intrigued.

"Promise me that whatever you see, you'll give me an honest reaction. No holding back."

You nod, even though he can't see you. 

"I promise."

"Okay, here we go," he says, and you can hear the excitement in his voice.

"Five."

"Four."

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

And then he steps out from behind the screen.

Your breath catches in your throat.

He is dressed in a black racing suit, but this isn't just any suit. It is sleek, form-fitting, and accentuates every line of his body. The material shimmers slightly under the light, giving it an almost otherworldly quality. Yellow accents trace the contours of the suit, adding a bold, striking contrast that makes the entire outfit pop.

But it isn't just the suit that takes your breath away. It is the way he carries himself, the confidence in his posture, the way he stands there with a slight smirk on his lips, knowing exactly the effect he has on you.

"So," he says, his voice low and velvety, "what do you think?"

Charles strikes a pose, his body angled in a way that showcases every contour of the racing suit. The black and yellow fabric clings to him perfectly, accentuating the sleek lines of his physique. His confidence is palpable, and the way he presents himself is nothing short of magnetic.

He holds the pose for a moment, his stance strong and assertive, his chest puffs out slightly as he tilts his head to the side. The suit gleams under the studio lights, the yellow accents highlighting the definition of his muscles and the tailored fit around his waist.

Then, with a fluid, almost theatrical movement, Charles begins to spin slowly. His movements are graceful and deliberate, allowing every angle of the suit to be seen. 

As he turns, the black fabric shifts and ripples, the yellow highlights catching the light and creating a stunning contrast. He spins with a kind of effortless elegance, each turn revealing a new aspect of the suit. and his physique.

The way he moves is mesmerizing.

His broad shoulders, narrow waist, and powerful legs are on full display, each turn emphasizing the perfect fit of the racing suit. His smile is confident, and his eyes sparkle with a mix of pride and playful satisfaction.

It's clear he enjoys the attention, relishing the chance to show off how well the suit complemented his body.

As he completes another spin and faces you once more, he strikes another pose, his body perfectly angled to highlight the sleek lines of the suit.

His gaze meets yours, a hint of challenge in his eyes, as if daring you not to be completely captivated.

For a moment, you can't speak. 

You can only stare at him, taking in every detail.

Finally, you find your voice. 

"You look.... phenomenal."

His smirk widens into a full-blown smile."

"You really think so?"

"Yes. I really do." You say, taking another look at him, all of him.

He looks absolutely stunning, almost unreal in his black and yellow racing suit. But it isn't just the suit that makes him so captivating.

His tousled hair, with that perfect, 'just out of bed' look, the slight stubble along his jawline, his soft, inviting lips, and those pretty green eyes—they all come together to create a sight that is simply irresistible.

As he walks toward you, his movements are slow and deliberate, almost like a predator closing in on his prey. 

His hands roam along his suit as if he can't resist touching the fabric himself. He runs them down his arms, across his chest, over his sides, and then down his abdomen, his fingers tracing the lines of his body.

You watch, completely entranced, as he licks his lips absentmindedly, his gaze locked onto yours.

There is an electric tension in the air, a palpable pull that you can't ignore. 

Your body moves on its own, your hand reaching out, fingertips grazing the fabric of the suit. The material feels incredible under your touch—smooth, almost like silk, but with a strength that is unmistakable. 

Your fingers roam over his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through the fabric, and you can't help but marvel at how good it feels.

Charles smiles, clearly pleased with your reaction.

"You like it?" he asks, his voice low and intimate, making it sound more like a statement than a question.

You nod, still running your fingers over his chest, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

"I do. It feels amazing."

He grins, a flash of pride lighting up his eyes.

"It's like carbon fiber. Ferrari put a lot of thought into it."

"You can tell," you reply, your fingers still exploring the suit, tracing the yellow accents that highlight his lean physique. "It looks good on you."

Charles's smile widens, and he leans in a little closer.

"I'm glad you think so. But you know, I could get used to hearing that a bit more."

You meet his gaze, and the playful challenge in his eyes sends a thrill through you.

"Oh, really?"

"Really," he murmurs, his voice husky. "I think I deserve a few more compliments, don't you?"

You can't help but smile at his playful arrogance, but you are more than happy to indulge him.

"You look incredible, Charles. The suit fits you perfectly, and the way it shows off your body... it's almost unfair."

He hums softly in response, clearly enjoining every word. 

"Go on," he encouraged, his tone teasing.

"You've got that effortlessly sexy look going on," you continue, your voice soft but sincere. 

"Your hair, that stubble, those eyes... you're practically irresistible. And the way you wear this suit, like it's just an extension of you—it's like you are made for this."

Charles lets out a soft chuckle, his gaze locked onto yours, his eyes darkening slightly with desire.

"I love it when you talk like that," he admits, his voice low and rough around the edges.

You smile, feeling a surge of warmth in your chest.

"I love making you feel good."

"You do," he replies, his tone filled with a mix of affection and hunger. 

He reaches up, cupping your cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that sends shivers down your spine.

"You always do."

For a moment, you just stand there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside of the room fading away. 

Charles leans in, closing the distance between you, his lips bruhsing against yours in a kiss that is both soft and intense.

The sensation of his lips, warm and inviting, sends a spark of electricity through your body, and you melt into him, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders.

As the kiss deepens, his hands move to your waist, pulling you closer, the fabric of his suit is cool and smooth against your skin. There is something about the way he holds you, the way he kisses you, that makes you feel like you are the only thing that matters to him in that moment.

Then you notice the distinct, alluring scent of his cologne surrounding him. It is a rich, sphisticated fragrance, subtly blending with the fresh scent of the racing suit. The aroma is warm and comforting, with hints of cedarwood and a touch of citrus that lingers in the air, creating an intoxicating combination that is uniquely Charles.

The scent envelopes you as you get closer, creating a sensory experience that is both soothing and exhilarating. It's like being wrapped in a cloud of his presence, and you feel the warmth of his body through the fabric, the scent adding another layer of intimacy to the moment.

Charles seems to notice your reaction. 

His eyes soften with a mix of amusement and affection as he looks down at you. 

"You like my cologne?" he asks, his voice low and slightly teasing.

You smile up at him, letting your fingers run down his chest again, savoring the feeling of the fabric and the scent that seems to blend perfectly with him.

"I do," you admit, your voice soft. "It's like an extra layer of you."

He chuckles softly, clearly pleased with your response.

Charles leans in closer, his eyes smoldering with a mix of affection and desire.

"Fuck, I'm getting so hard," he whispers, his voice carrying a hint of that familiar confidence.

You meet his gaze, a slow smile spreading across your lips. 

"I can see that," you reply, your voice soft but laced with playfulness.

Your eyes begin their slow journey over him, taking in every detail once more.

The way the black racing suit hugs his body accentuates every muscle, every curve, in a way that is striking yet sensual. The suit seems almost to pulse with his energy.

His muscles are taut and defined, the fabric of his suit now straining slightly under the pressure, emphasizing the hard lines of his physique.

Charles grins, a pleased smile stretching across his lips.

"This feels so good."

You reach out slowly, your fingers grazing the surface of his suit, tracing a path along his chest, feeling the subtle shift of his muscles as you move your hand down his sides and across his abdomen. 

Your touch is light but deliberate, savoring the warmth and firmness of his body.

Charles sighs contentedly, his eyes closing briefly as he enjoys the sensation of your fingers through his suit. His breath hitches slightly when your fingers trace the letters of his name along his waistline, the fabric stretching slightly as you move.

The intimacy of the moment, the way his body responded to your touch, makes your heart race.

Encouraged by his reaction, your fingers wander lower, exploring the contours of his body with newfound confidence.

You feel the tension in his muscles, the way the suit accentuates every movement. Each touch is met with a soft sigh or a subtle shift, and it is clear that he is thoroughly enjoying the attention.

Charles's hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer as you continue your exploration. The sensation of his body under your fingers, the way the suit clings and shifts, creates an intoxicating mix of excitement and intimacy.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" You murmur, your fingers tracing along his hips, feeling the hardness of his muscles beneath the fabric.

His eyes flutter open, his gaze locked onto yours with desire.

"Absolutely," he says softly. "It feels amazing. But it's even better because you're the one doing this."

You smile, leaning in slightly, your fingers continuing their journey. 

"I'm glad I can make you feel this way."

He lets out a low, contented hum, almost a purr, his grip on your waist tightening as he revels in the closeness.

Your fingers trace a little lower, savoring the way his body responds to your touch. The suit seems almost to come alive under your fingers, amplifying every sensation, every movement.

His reaction, the way his breath hitches and his body tenses, makes you feel like you are exploring a private, cherished part of him.

"Does this feel good?" You ask softly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"More than you can imagine," Charles replies, his voice thick with emotion. "You have no idea how... good I feel right now."

Each sigh, each shift of his body, makes the moment feel even more special.

As you gently stroke his abdomen, Charles's eyes close again, his breathing deepening as he savors the sensation. He leans into your touch, his expression one of pure contentment. It is clear that this moment, this connection, is something he cherishes as much as you do.

The air between you crackles with anticipation as your hand slowly finds the zipper of his suit. His eyes dart open and follow your movements intently, every breath between you heavy with expectation.

You hesitate for just a moment, letting the tension build before you begin to slowly pull the zipper down.

As the zipper descends, the black fabric parts to reveal the Nomex underneath, hugging his body like a second skin.

The slightly damp fabric is smooth, taut, and incredibly form-fitting, showing off every muscle, every contour of his athletic physique. The red fabric contrasted sharply with his skin, making the sight even more captivating.

Charles sighs softly, the sound full of both relief and pleasure, his chest rising and falling as he exhales deeply. You can't help but marvel at the sight before you—the tight Nomex accentuating his lean muscles, the way it clings to him, leaving little to the imagination.

Your heart races as you take it all in, your fingers itching to touch him, to feel the heat of his body beneath the fabric.

However, before you can make another move, Charles slips out of the upper half of his racing suit, letting the top half fall to his waist, revealing his torso.

Through the thin Nomex, you can see every line of his chest, the muscles of his abdomen flexing slightly as he moves. The material is so thin, so close to his skin, that it is almost as if nothing is there at all. It is an invitation you can't resist.

You reach out, your fingers trembling slightly with the intensity of the moment, and place your hand on his chest.

The Nomex feels cool to the touch, but underneath, his skin is warm and firm. You feel his muscles shift under your fingertips, flexing subtly as he responds to your touch. 

All of him is intoxicating—the power, the strength, all right there under your hand.

Charles lets out a low, pleased hum, clearly enjoying the way you are exploring him.

His hand slides to your waist again, pulling you closer until your bodies are almost touching. His other hand reaches up to cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

His lips hover just above yours, his breath warm and sweet against your mouth. He is so close that you feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, sense the way his chest expands and contracts with each inhale.

"How do I look?`" he asks, his voice a deep, husky whisper that sends shivers down your spine.

You are breathless, completely caught up in the moment, on him.

Your eyes roam over his face, his hair still tousled, his stubble giving him a rugged, irresistible edge, his green eyes dark with desire.

And his body, clad in the tight Nomex, is a sight that leaves you utterly speechless.

"Amazing," you finally manage to whisper, your voice barely audible as you lean into him, your heart racing.

That is all he needed to hear.

Charles closes the small gap between you, his lips capturing yours in an intense kiss. The moment your lips meet, it's like everything else fades away—the room, the world outside—all of it ceases to exist. There is only him, only this.

His kiss is full of passion, but there is also something gentle, something reverent about the way he holds you, as if you are the most precious thing in the world to him. 

His hands on your waist tighten, pulling you flush against him, and you feel the heat of his body through his shirt; the hard lines of his muscles press against you.

You melt into him, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, then down his chest, feeling the way his body reacts to your touch. His muscles tense firmly under your fingers, the sensation sending a rush of heat through you.

The kiss deepens, and you respond eagerly, your hands exploring every inch of him, reveling in the feel of his strong, powerful body under the thin fabric.

"Mhmm," he moans into your mouth as his hands move to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tilts your head slightly, deepening the kiss even further.

You feel his breath quickening, matching the rapid beat of your own heart.

When you finally break apart, you are both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other's, your breaths mingling in the small space between you.

His eyes are closed, his lips slightly parted, a small, satisfied smile playing on his face.

"You have no idea how much I want you," he whispers, his voice rough and his accent coming through more.

You smile, your heart swelling with desire. 

"I think I do," you whisper back, your fingers still tracing the lines of his chest.

He opens his eyes then, looking at you with such intensity that it makes your knees weak.

That's when you feel the unmistakable evidence of his arousal pressing against your waist. A shiver runs through you at the sensation, and you can't resist the urge to tease him, a playful smile curving your lips.

"Well, someone's enjoying themselves," you murmur, your voice light and teasing as you raise an eyebrow at him.

Charles chuckles softly, the sound deep and rich.

"Can you blame me?" He replies, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Look at what I've got in front of me."

His playful response only makes you bolder; your hands begin their slow descent down his body, fingers tracing over the taut muscles of his chest and abdomen, feeling the way his breath hitches slightly as you move lower. 

The closer you get to his waist, the more you can feel the tension building in him, the anticipation.

As your hands continue to roam, Charles lets out a soft, involuntary moan, the sound vibrating deep in his throat. 

You let your fingers dip lower, stroking him through the racing suit, feeling the heat of his arousal against your hand.

Charles bites down on his lower lip, his eyes darkening with desire as he gazes down at you. The way he looks at you, the way he responds to your touch only fuel the fire inside you.

"Careful," he murmurs, his voice strained, though still laced with that playful edge. "You're going to drive me insane."

You smile up at him, continuing to tease, enjoying every moment of his reaction.

"Isn't that the point?"

Charles let out a low, appreciative laugh, his hands gripping your waist a little tighter as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours.

His breathing quickened as he let out another low sigh.

"I'm really close," he admits, his voice strained with desire and frustration. The evidence of his arousal presses firmly against you, growing more intense as your fingers continue to stroke him through the suit.

The fabric stretches, forming a visible tent, yet the black fabric is slightly hiding it. Still, you feel the warmth of his arousal growing, and you notice the fabric growing damp with his pre-cum. His breath hitches, and his eyes plead with you, showing just how close he is to the edge.

You look up at him; your expression a mixture of playful defiance and genuine affection.

"You can't ruin the suit yet," you tease softly, though the warmth in your tone reveals just how much you are enjoying this.

Charles's eyes widen slightly with frustration, his hands gripping your waist tighter as he tries to steady himself.

"I'm just so close," he says, his voice a desperate whisper, his body trembling as he fights to hold on.

You keep your touch light and teasing, drawing out the moment as much as you can.

"Patience," you murmur, your voice a gentle caress against his ear.

"The suit's not going anywhere. And neither are we."

Charles's grip on you tightens even more, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.

"You're really driving me crazy," he whimpers, a soft groan escaping his lips as he struggles to keep his composure.

You smile at him, your fingers continuing their slow, teasing caress.

"That's the idea, I told you," you whisper, your voice full of playful affection. "But I promise, we'll have our time. Just a little longer."

The tension is almost unbearable, the heat of the moment making it clear how much you both want to give in to your desires. His eyes are dark with need, his body presses firmly against yours as he fights to maintain control.

"I'll be patient," he says finally, though his voice is thick with desire. "But only if you promise me that we'll finish this soon."

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips."You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips.

"I promise."

With a final, lingering kiss, Charles reluctantly steps back, his arousal still evident but his composure regained.

As Charles adjusts his suit in preparation for the photoshoot, his movements are deliberate and confident; his hands glide over the fabric, smoothing it out and ensuring everything is in place.

Yet, there is a clear focus on specific areas—his chest, his abdomen, his thighs, and the prominet bulge that is still slightly damp.

With a mixture of frustration and need, his hands linger on his chest, his fingers tracing the defined muscles beneath the Nomex. He then moved to his abdomen, his touch firm and almost possessive, as if trying to regain control over his body's reaction.

His gaze drops to the growing bulge at his waistline, and he sighs, his breath catching slightly as he feels the evidence of his arousal.

"Barely held on there," he murmurs, his voice thick with both relief and frustration as he glances at you, his expression a blend of desire and amusement.

You can't help but tease him, a playful smile spreading across your lips. 

"I can tell," you reply. "Looks like you're having a hard time keeping it together."

Charles's eyes sparkle with a mix of annoyance and amusement as he meets your gaze.

"You're really pushing your luck," he says, though there is an undeniable edge of affection in his tone.

"You make it so easy," you tease, reaching out to gently brush your fingers against the damp spot on his suit, feeling the warmth of his arousal through the fabric. The contact makes him shiver, his breath hitching again.

He gives a soft, almost helpless laugh, shaking his head.

"You're impossible," he says, though there is no real reproach in his voice. "But you're right. It's all your fault."

You lean in closer, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Charles's lips twitch into a reluctant smile, his eyes dark with desire once more.

With one last, lingering look, he adjusts his suit one final time, making sure everything is perfectly in place before you have to leave for the photoshoot. 

His movements are more controlled now, though the lingering evidence of his earlier arousal is still apparent.

With a final glance in your direction, he reaches for his black ferrari cap on the nearby table. He flips it in his hand for a moment, as if considering something before sliding it onto his head, the bill casting a shadow over his eyes, giving him an air of confident mystery.

He turns to the mirror, his eyes roaming over his reflection. Slowly, he licks his lips, his gaze focused on the way the cap and the racing suit completed the look. 

You watch him for a moment, the way he studies himself, clearly satisfied with how everything came together. Unable to resist, you smile and ask. 

"Are you satisfied with what you see?"

Charles chuckles, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

"I think I am," he replies, his tone playful but with a hint if genuine appreciation for the way he looks.

He takes another moment to admire himself, running his fingers through his stubble and along his jawline, before letting his gaze linger on the way the suit fit his form, especially around the waist, before turning to dace you fully.

"You know," he adds, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone, " I think I might even like it more with you standing next to me."

You blush slightly at his words, a soft laugh, escaping you as you shake your head.

"Always the charmer;" you tease, though you can't deny the thrill that runs through you at his compliment.

"Only for you," he murmurs, his eyes softening as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face, the gesture tender and full of affection.

With a final look in the mirror, Charles takes a deep breath, the playful edge returning to his expression as he turns to you.

"Alright," he says, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Let's go show them what this suit can do."

[and-claudia]

Yours pt. 3 (Paddy x reader) (Speak No Evil)

Warnings: DDDNE (that is your warning that this is gonna get a little fucked up here), masturbation, taking/sending dirty pictures, manipulation, controlling relatives, lying, p in v (not Yn, Paddy and Ciara, trust me on this, okay?), infidelity, mean!Paddy, use of a gag

I think that is it, but seriously, if you read this and think I need to add another one, DM me!!

Word count: 4000+ (I got carried away, I'm so sorry, but not really)

Taglist (Read the rules, follow them or I will remove your response)

Being back in the small, modern apartment I was supposed to call made me sad. It was cold and grey and just uninviting. It was the complete opposite of how I felt around Paddy in Italy. I missed him. I tried to distract myself with everything under the sun. I tried not to think about the night we shared but it was no use. More often than not, I found myself laying in bed, hand between my legs, doing my best to imagine it was him and not my own hand. 

Which is where I found myself currently. I had been babysitting Agnes all afternoon, not that she really needed me to. She was nearly 12 she could take care of herself for a few hours and leave me alone. So when I heard Lousie call my name, I was beyond pissed because I was close to finishing. 

“What?” I yelled back, frustration evident in my voice. 

“You got some mail! It’s from Ciara! Come get it.” She hollered back. 

I sighed and removed my hand, “Coming!” I yelled, though it wasn’t the coming I wanted to be doing. 

As I walked downstairs, I realized it was odd that I was getting something from Ciara. Nonetheless, I walked over to get it. “Oh Ben, we got a postcard from Paddy as well.” She said, handing him the card. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit jealous that he sent something to them and not to me. 

I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the letter. 

Hello Darling, 

I didn’t want Ben or Louise to get suspicious of me writing you, so I had to put Ciara’s name on the envelope. I hope you’re not too mad at me. I’ve thought about you every night. Your face, your tits, your tight, perfect cunt. You are consuming my every thought. Ciara can’t satisfy me the way you can. I need you. I hope to see you soon. 

If Ben or Lousie ask what this letter was about, just tell them Ciara hopes to see you soon because she had such a fun time hanging out with you in Italy. 

P.s. 

There’s a surprise for you in the envelope… maybe you can return the favor and write me back. But send it to Ciara. She’ll understand. 

-Paddy 

I smiled and peeked into the envelope before sliding the letter back into it. I bit my lip at the small glimpse I got of them. At the bottom of the envelope, there were some pictures of him, each one with less clothes than the last. 

“What’d she say?” Lousie asked just as I closed the envelope back up. 

“Oh, she’s just hoping that we come visit soon because she misses hanging out with me.” I said. 

Louise made a face, and I knew some disapproving comment was coming. 

“Isn’t that a little weird? I mean, she’s a good deal older than you… Isn’t that a little odd, Ben?” She asked. 

“Hm? Yeah, it’s weird.” He agreed, and I sighed. 

“It’s not that weird. She’s not that much older than me…” I try to defend. 

“I don’t know if that makes it any better… I mean, Paddy is clearly older than her… did you catch how long they were together? Over 15 years, right? How old would that have made her when they got together?” 

“I don’t think that’s our business; they’re clearly happy together.” I said before turning to Ben, “What does the postcard say?” I asked, trying to change the topic. 

“Oh, it’s just him inviting us out to their farm again.” He said, setting it down. 

I took the opportunity to grab it and look it over.

“Have you thought about it?” I asked. 

“About what?” Lousie asked. 

“About going to visit their farm…” I said as if it were obvious. 

“Oh… I don’t think it’s a good idea. I mean, we’re not suited for that type of lifestyle. I don’t really think any of us would enjoy it.” She said. 

I took a moment to think before speaking up again. 

“I actually think it may do us all some good.” I began gently gaining both of their attention, “After I stormed off from brunch that day, Paddy told me that he pitched the idea to you and I agree with him. I think a break for a city and some fresh air could really help all of us out… and then maybe when we get back, I can finally get with a therapist and start working through everything…” I added that last bit as the cherry on top. 

My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest as I waited for a response. Lousie and Ben exchanged a look. 

“You know what, I think that’s a good idea too. Ben?” Louise said. 

“Yeah… I’ll, um, write back to him tomorrow and set up some dates.” He said clearly slightly thrown off by the sudden decision from Lousie. 

“Thank you!” I said, a bit too excited, “I’m going to go write back to Ciara.” I said before taking off upstairs. 

I was buzzing with excitement. I would get to see Paddy again. It felt like my heart was going to burst. Quickly, I sat down at my desk with a piece of paper and a pen to write him back. 

Paddy, 

Firstly, I was so confused when I saw the envelope from “Ciara” addressed to me. It definitely threw off any suspicions my aunt or uncle may have had. Once I opened it and saw it was really from you, I got excited. I’ve missed you too. Most nights, I try to satisfy myself with my hands, but nothing compares to you. I can’t even look at another man without missing you even more. 

I have good news, though… we will be coming to visit your farm! I am not sure when Ben is supposed to be writing to you soon to set up some dates. I hope we can go soon. I’m not sure how much more of this distance I can take. 

Also, I returned the favor for the little surprise you put in my envelope. I hope you enjoy them. 

Always yours, 

Yn 

I tucked the letter into my drawer so it wasn’t out in the open for anyone, meaning my nosey aunt or cousin, to read. Then I grabbed my Polaroid camera bag off the shelf. I brought it over to my bed and sat down with it to carefully take it out. At the bottom of the bag were a few Polaroids I secretly took of Paddy and me in Italy. On our last day, we had all gone out sightseeing around the town, and I brought the camera with us. On the top of the stack was one I had taken when he and I had slipped away during dinner to get a drink from the bar. The sun was setting, and I managed to get one last picture of the two of us. The sunset was in the background as he kissed my cheek and I was smiling at the camera. It was my favorite picture from the trip, and seeing it made me miss him even more. I reminded myself that it was now only a matter of time before I got to see him in person again. 

After I carefully put the pictures back in the bag and picked up my camera. Unfortunately I didn’t have a good mirror in my room to take the pictures, only the small one on my desk that I used to do my makeup. So I slipped out and went into the bathroom to take a couple full body pictures to send to him. 

I made sure to turn the shower on to make it seem like I was actually doing something in here. After some thought I decided to take the same approach he had and started by just taking my shirt off, leaving me in my jeans and bra. I kept removing layers until I was completely naked. I snapped one more picture before setting the camera down and actually getting in the shower. 

Once I got out, I put my robe on, grabbed my camera, and went back to my room to take one more special picture for Paddy. I wanted to give a small glimpse at what he had been missing. I set the camera up on my dresser, facing my bed. There was a small knot in my stomach that was a mix of nervousness, excitement, and arousal at what I was doing. After fixing my bed up, I double-checked that my door was locked before removing my robe. I knew I would have to work fast with only 30 seconds on the timer. I mapped out my route and thought about positioning before taking a deep breath and pressing the timer button. 

I hurried and got set up on the bed, laying back, legs open to the camera. After a quick swipe through my folds, I wasted no time slipping two fingers into my hole, pumping them only a couple of times, knowing my goal was to get the picture, not get off. I waited for the click before removing my fingers and getting up to grab the picture as it printed. I shook it and watched as the image appeared. 

The thought of Paddy opening these pictures sent a new wave of arousal through me as I sat back down at my desk, wrapped back in my robe, and put them into a fresh envelope along with the letter. I addressed it to Ciara just as he instructed me to before sealing it and setting it to the side. I would get a stamp from Ben tomorrow. Then I got up and went over to my dresser to get his shirt that I stole and put it on. I crawled into bed with images of Paddy’s reaction to the pictures as the only thing on my mind. 

3rd Person PoV

It had been about a week since Yn sent her letter to “Ciara” and Ben had sent one to Paddy. And they had finally arrived. Paddy hardly ever got mail. Only when he was expecting something from his soon-to-be victims did he ever receive anything of importance. So he had been checking the mail quite frequently lately, waiting to see some familiar names. 

When He flipped through the envelopes, he saw the name Ben Dalton in the corner first, making him smirk a little before looking at the last one. It was addressed to his wife, but in the corner, he saw who it was from, and his smirk grew. He tucked that one into his back pocket for now before bringing the other one into the house. 

“Ciara, look!” He said, walking into the kitchen where his wife was, holding up the envelope. 

“That from the Daltons?” She asked curiously. 

“Yup,” He said, opening it and taking out the letter; he skimmed over it before announcing, “Looks like we’ll have guests soon.” 

Ciara hesitated for a moment, “Wonderful.” She forced a smile. 

“What?” Paddy asked, his happy mood suddenly gone, “Is this about Yn?” 

She didn’t answer at first but eventually nodded, “You got awfully close to her, Paddy. Are you really going to be able to kill her? That’s the whole point of this. Are you going to be able to do it?” She asked. 

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s more about the hunt than the kill? Don’t worry. This is going to be the best hunt yet.” He said, a wicked gleam in his eye. 

After their discussion, Paddy went upstairs to open his letter from Yn. He read it and although he already knew it, seeing it in her handwriting made him even more excited for their arrival. He couldn’t wait to indoctrinate her into his sick, twisted world, and he knew she’d do great by his side. 

He looked at the pictures she sent, and it made his cock twitch, watching as each picture revealed more and more skin to him until she was completely bare. But nothing could prepare him for that last one. Seeing the image of her spread open like that all for him, fingers in her tight pussy, it made him painfully hard seeing it and not being able to have the real thing right in that very moment. 

“Ciara!” Paddy called. 

Upon hearing her name she quickly turned off the stove and hurried up the stairs to her husband. It was almost a ritual at this point. The prospect of a new hunt always turned Paddy on and it had always led to a night of hot, passionate sex for the two of them, and she was looking forward to that. 

She had barely even gotten through the door when Paddy began barking orders at her. 

“Shut the door, take off your clothes, and get in the bed.” He commanded. 

She swiftly obeyed and perched herself on their shared bed waiting. Her eyes watched as Paddy undressed as well and then walked over to the dresser to where the pictures Yn had sent laid sprawled out across it. He picked up the one of her completely naked, wanting to be able to see her face to better imagine her while he fucked his wife. 

He finally waked over to the bed and looked at Ciara as she sat, legs spread in anticipation for him to fix himself between them and fuck bed. However that was not what Paddy had in mind. 

“Turn around.” 

She did as he said, unsure what he had picked up from the dresser as he was keeping it from her view. 

“Face down. Don’t even think about looking at me, I don’t want to see your face.” He commanded as he crawled on to the bed. 

I pang of hurt and confusion hit Ciara but nonetheless she did as he said. Then without any warning he abrupt thrusted all the way into her. She let a moan that was a mixture of pain and pleasure. Paddy didn’t give her anytime to recover from his harsh thrust into her as he began fucking her at an almost inhumane pace. 

Ciara squirmed under him, unable to hold still as Paddy fucked her from behind. Her moans bounced off the walls of their small room. Although it wasn’t what she was expecting, she couldn’t help how good she felt having him have his way with her. In someways, it was better than what she was expecting. 

“Quit moving.” Paddy snapped, gripping her hip with one of his hands in an attempt to keep her still. 

“And. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” He punctated each of his words with a thrust harsher than last. 

This did little to quiet Ciara. Her moans only grew louder until Paddy couldn’t take it anymore. He hated the way her moans sounded. He hated the way her cunt felt. He tried his best to focus on the picture he held of Yn, but his wife’s moans were making it nearly impossible to keep the mental image of her sound. 

Quickly he glanced around for anything that would help quiet her long enough for him to finish. His eyes landed on his belt than he had unceriomniouisly dropped on the edge of the bed. He grabbed it and tossed it up to her for her to grab. 

“Bite down on that. I don’t want hear another one of your fucking moans, understand?” He said. 

She nodded, and grabbed with a shaky hand before folding it over and biting down on it. Then she lowered her face back to the mattress and allowed him to continue. 

Now with her moans muffled, Paddy was able to focus on the one thing he wanted most in that moment: Yn. It didn’t take long before his cock was twitching with the anticipation of his release. And soon, he was cumming, but he didn’t relent on his unforgiving thrusts until he was completely spent. And then, he pulled out of his wife, got up, put his clothes on, and left the room. 

Ciara was left in a dazed state. Left confused by Paddy’s rush to finish and then leave. The sex itself wasn’t too far out of the ordinary for them. Paddy did have a tendency to harsh at times when they fucked, but not like that. Slowly she stood from the bed and collected some clothes to go shower. Despite his haste to leave, Paddy had been smart enough to collect the pictures and stash them to keep Ciara in the dark about his intentions for this hunt. 

Yn’s PoV

It had been a little over a week after I sent my letter back that I received another one from “Ciara.” I had been the one to check the mail that day so once I saw it I immediately ran upstairs to read it. I felt like a school girl reading a note that was passed to her from her crush 

Yn,

Thank you so much for those pictures, baby, I really needed that boost to hold me over until you get here and I can have the real thing again. I cannot wait until you’re here, where you belong, with me, in just a couple weeks. 

However, I need you to follow directions carefully though before you come here. First off, accept this now to make things easier, you aren’t leaving me once you get here. I said you were mine and I meant it. So, make sure you pack anything you can’t live without. There won’t be a way to get it once we’re done. Do not share this information with anyone. I am trusting you, baby, don’t spoil this for me, okay? 

Don’t worry though, I’ll take care of everything. 

I can’t wait to see you, 

Paddy

I knew it was crazy, but his message made my heart flutter. The thought of him finally getting my aunt and uncle off my back sent a wave of excitement through me. I didn’t need to accept the fact that I was his now. I had done that back in Italy. I loved him and I knew I would do anything for him. In the back of my mind I thought about Ciara and where she landed into all of this. Were they getting a divorce soon? Was it going to be a sisterwives type of situation? Were we all going to be together? 

I tried not to think about it too much and just focused on counting down the days until we left. 

Time seemed to fly by and soon I was sat in the back seat of my uncle’s Tesla, as he drove us down a dark, forest-lined road. We had been in the car most of the day and everyone else was getting tired, but not me. I had only one thing on my mind: seeing Paddy. 

Louise and Ben started going back and forth with idea that maybe we were lost or going the wrong way. But the instructions Paddy gave us were pretty straight forward. 

“Look, there’s the war monument. Just like he said. Just keep driving, we’re almost there.” I said, pointing out the landmark he had mentioned in his directions. 

“Oh, hm, guess you’re right.” Lousie said as we past it. 

After that it wasn’t long until we were pulling up to the farm. And there he was. He was stood next to Ciara, arm around her waist, which did hurt a little, but I had to remind myself that that was still his wife. Ant stood in front of them and Paddy had his hand on his shoulder. 

I had to stop myself from jumping out of the car the moment it was in park. I waited for Ben to get out first. I ran a hand over my clothes, smoothing them out the best I could after sitting in the car all day, then I opened my door and got out. Ben was already greeting them when I stepped around the car. 

“Yn, I’ve missed you!” Ciara said, shocking me at first. 

“Hi, Ciara. I missed you, too.” I said, hugging her as she opened her arms to me. 

“Hey, bud. You doin’ okay?” I asked Ant, ruffling his hair lightly and he gave me a small nod. 

Then I got to Paddy. I froze for a second just staring up into his blue eyes. 

“You forget my name or something, darling?” He teased, snapping me out of my trance. 

“Never, how are you, Paddy?” I asked, hugging him. 

“Wonderful!” He said before openig his arms to hug me. 

“Better now that you’re here, love.” He whispered to me as he held me. 

The hug was over all too soon as he continued on to welcome Agnes and Louise. 

“Well, let’s get inside. Get you all settled into where you’ll be staying then dinner. Oh we have the best dinner planned for you, just you wait.” Paddy said, walking over to the car to help get our bags. 

I admittedly had more than one bag. One was much smaller though, containing only my makeup, toiletries, camera and laptop. 

“Someone’s an overpacker, I see.” Paddy said, grabbing one of my bags. 

“I’m sorry I told her she didn’t need her makeup and stuff but she wouldn’t listen, you know how girls can be.” Lousie said. 

“No need to apologize! Just giving her a hard time is all.” Paddy said nudging my shoulder because he knew why my I had an extra bag compared to everyone else. 

He and Ciara led us inside and showed us around. The house looked quite large from the outside, but once you were in it felt smaller due its closed off layout, but I quite liked it. It was a nice change from the open layouts I was used to. It felt more homey, more inviting. 

“So despite the looks from the outside, we don’t actually have much space… only three bedrooms I’m afraid.” Ciara said. 

“We figured, you and Lousie can take the guestroom, the two youngsters can share the loft and Yn can have the livingroom to sleep in. If that’s alright with her, of course.” Paddy added. 

I was about to respond when Lousie cut me off, “Oh that’s okay, I’m sure Yn wouldn’t mind sharing the loft with them. I wouldn’t want her intruding on your space down here.” 

“Oh nonsense, Lousie. She a grown adult, it’s not fair to shove her up there with the children. Trust me we don’t mind her sleeping down here. That’s why we offered it. Here, come on Yn, right in here.” He said, leaving no room for anyone to object as he led me into the livingroom. 

“Here you can set your bags here. And it may not look it, but the couch is way more comfortable than it looks. I’ve had my fair share of nights on the couch, if you know what I mean. Right, Ben?” Paddy said, bumping the man in question with his elbow. 

“Oh, um yeah… yeah.” Been replied causing me to roll my eyes. I knew he slept on the couch more often than he cared to admit. 

“Alright lets continue the tour, Ciara lead them upstairs please, darling?” He said and she nodded before turning to show us the other rooms. 

Paddy waited until everyone was a few paces ahead of us before grabbing me by the wrist and pulling me to him. His lips were on mine in an instant and he let out a small groan into the kiss. 

“I’ve been waiting so long to do that. Had to stop myself from plating one on ya when you got out of that car.” He said. 

“I wouldn’t have complained.” I said back. 

“Cheeky,” He shook his head smiling, “We gotta be carful though still. Just for a little longer. Can you do that for me baby?” 

“Anything for you, Paddy.” I said, giving him one last peck on the lips before we turned to follow everyone else upstairs. 

Taglist (Read the rules, follow them or I will remove your response)

@dreamygirli3 @comicbookslut @one-of-thewalkingdead @moist-for-xavier @myartistrash02 @fairy-cores-world @mayamidge @yasmin12312

[landograndprix]

「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」

part iii

✧.* things with lando get serious quickly and while your'e going through a rollocoaster of emotions with everything that's going on the public voices their own opinion.

✧.* this was supposed to be a cutesy, fluffy series but would it really be a landonfour story if it doesn't turn angsty? 💀 reader is older. Taglist is open. I always see your requests to be added to the list in the comments and I do add you but if you can't find your name in the list, it's probably because I was unable to tag you and therefore put you off the list. Feel free to ask again though, we'll keep trying! 😊

✧.* prev part - next part

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mclaren

liked by landonorris, y/nusername and 98,765 others

mclaren dream team..literally 😴

tagged: landonorris, y/nusername

view all 362 commente

julieeeexo admin is going to be the biggest y/nlando shipper out there 😂

norry4 match made in heaven

norrislandofan y/n be sleeping so much because she's of old age 🤪

hamilt44n so funny..I'm so quirky..landos definitely going to fuck me.. 🤪

bott_ass didn't know there was a fucking age limit to taking naps..damn

jackson88 they better be wide awake when the season starts, I'm expecting big things!!

hannahh me and who, when?

mclarenslando stop it, the season hasn't even started yet and McLaren's already exposing them 😂

carlandosainz 🤮 🤮

chilisainz babe, do we need to call an ambulance or are you overreacting again?

landonorris cute

norrizz I think you forgot the heart emojis and everything

y/nusername can't live in peace anymore

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y/nusername posted to their story

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, milouberger and 201,853 others

y/nusername ..and we shall call it family 💕

view all 876 comments

hamilt44n okay but what does it take for y'all to accept me in the family?

y/nsmclaren hope you have fun bbyyy 🥰

laaaandonorr do your parent know you like little boys?

milouberger where was my invite? Tell dad he forgot to text me the location..

y/nusername dad just told me he's disowned you..

milouberger oh 😔

f1gurlz ..and another family torn apart :(

nor4iss they better hide those children knowing y/n loves her boys young 💀

sainznorriss are any of your nieces, nephews or siblings looking for a girlfriend? Asking for a friend 👀

gaslyslando ur disgusting

bobnorris get out of here if you're so disgusted 🙄

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 199,653 others

y/nusername recharging 🔋

view all 786 comments

mcbully/n yessss y/n, kick back and relax because we need you back on the track in top form!

charlos16 okay girl, keep being an absolute vibe. 😍

grussell63 imagine being lando and getting to call her yours 😭

landoscar don't know who to be jealous of 😭

pierreswife she's for real or of his league!

teamlando4 nah lando's way out of y/n her league, she should find someone hey own age 🤨

grussell63 @.teamlando4 nobody asked for your WRONG opinions.. thank you.

julieeeexo pls tell me where you got that necklace from, I need it 😍

cecilemoulin beauty 🥰

y/nusername no you 🥰

leclercnorriss leave lando alone and retire already

hamillewis why's everybody hating so much? Let her live her life..

landonorris 😍😍

norrizz okaaaay boy said I'm not hiding anything

lan4lan I mean he's been waiting to call y/n his for years 😂

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taglists->

Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @buckybarnessweetheart @itsjustkhaos @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @jjsprobablywrong

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @buffysummrsx @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @ihrtdan @landossainz @christianpulisic10

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Hook Man | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mentions of religious trauma/parental abuse

Word Count: 4869

A/N: Guys. We hit a bit of a milestone earlier in the week. Just wanted to say in celebration that I am so beyond grateful for all of your love and support. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! Giving big big kisses to all of you!!! Taglist is open!!

Edit: Hey.... I suck I forgot to add the taglist when I published. So sorry!!! fixed now!!!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

You and Dean were sat at an outdoor cafe; coffee cups in hand. He was clacking away at his laptop while you wrote in your journal. You wrote your excerpt on the shapeshifter next to a drawing of Dean’s necklace. 

“Is that…?” Dean asked, pointing to your journal.

You nodded. 

“I didn’t know you could draw,” he said.

“No offense, lovebug, but you don’t know much of anything about me,” you retorted.

He scoffed. “Will you take the compliment and be quiet?”

“I didn’t hear a compliment,” you giggled. “Well, maybe in ‘Dean Winchester Land’ it was a compliment.”

“Oh, shut up,” he responded playfully. 

Sam hung up the payphone he was standing in and came back over to your table.

“Your, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte is gettin’ cold over here, Francis,” Dean jabbed at his brother.

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” you told him.

“So, anything?” Dean asked Sam.

Sam huffed. “I had ‘em check the FBI’s Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Does fitting Dad’s description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations.”

“Sam, I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t think Dad wants to be found.”

Sam looked disappointed.

“Check this out.” Dean turned his laptop around to you and Sam. “It’s a news item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. It’s only about a hundred miles from here.”

“Thank god, a short trip,” you sighed. 

“ ‘The mutilated body was found near the victim’s car, parked on 9 Mile Road,’ “ Sam read from the article.

“Keep reading.” Dean nodded at his laptop.

“ ‘Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible.’ “

That last line caught your attention. “Could be something interesting.”

“Or it could be nothing at all,” Sam protested. “One freaked out witness who didn’t see anything? Doesn’t mean it’s the Invisible Man.”

“But what if it is? Dad would check it out,” Dean responded.

***

The one hundred mile drive concluded with the boys dropping you off at a sorority house. 

“Remind me why I have to play barbies for the week again?” you asked.

“Because this is Lori Sorensen’s sorority house; the witness from the killing,” Sam replied.

“Great,” you mumbled.

“Have fun making s’mores and singing campfire songs,” Dean remarked.

“Bite me,” you snarked. “You’re going to a frat, though, Steve McQueen, so I wouldn’t be so cocky.” 

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he grumbled. 

“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” you said and shouldered your duffel bag. You bid them goodbye and reluctantly marched up to the door of the sorority house.

A girl with long, dark curls opened the door. “Hi,” she said. “Can I… help you?”

“Yeah, I’m (Y/N),” you explained. “I’m your sorority sister from Ohio State. Do you guys have an extra bed I could sleep in? I just transferred here.”

“Sure,” she grinned. “I’m Taylor, by the way.” 

“Nice to meet you.” 

She led you inside and introduced you to Lori Sorensen. She was a sweet girl; very naive and a little stuck-up. Taylor seemed a little more like a party girl, but still relatively tame. You decided you could gel with these girls for the time being. 

They told you they were headed to Sunday service at Lori’s father’s church and invited you to go with them. You obliged.

In the middle of the introductory rites, you heard the heavy church door slam shut. Your head swiveled to find Sam and Dean frozen and looking guilty. You scoffed amusedly and rolled your eyes, turning your attention forward for the rest of the service. 

Taylor invited you and Lori out to a party after the service, but Lori said she couldn’t. Her father had dinner with her every Sunday since her mother passed away. She and Taylor hugged and Taylor bid you goodbye before heading off.

Sam and Dean came over to you and Lori.

“Guys!” you said excitedly. “Sam, Dean, this is Lori.” You introduced her to them. “They’re my friends from Ohio. They transferred with me.” 

“I saw you inside,” she told them.

“We don’t wanna bother you. We just heard about what happened and…”

Dean cut his brother off. “We wanted to say how sorry we were.”

You knew where this was going; he was cruising for another hookup.

“I kind of know what you’re going through,” Sam broke back in. “I-I saw someone..get hurt once. It’s something you don’t forget.”

Lori nodded slightly. Just then, her father came up to your group.

“Dad, um, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). They’re new students.”

Dean shook the reverend’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon.”

“Thank you very much,” he smiled. “It’s so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord’s message.” 

“Yes, sir,” you replied and began leading him away from Sam and Lori. “Actually, we’re looking for a new church group…”

***

Later that day, you and the boys were sitting together in the local library. Sam relayed to you what Lori had told him about the passing of the guy she was with.

“So, you believe her?” Dean asked him.

“I do,” he nodded.

“Yeah, I think she’s hot, too.” Dean smirked at him. 

“You think almost everything with a vagina and legs is hot, Dean,” you remarked.

“Not you,” he jabbed back, still smirking.

You clutched a hand to your chest. “I’m hurt, you dick.”

He rolled his eyes at you.

“Can we focus, please?” Sam broke in. “There’s something in her eyes. And listen to this: she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car.”

“Wait, the body suspended? That sounds like the—”

 Sam cut you off. “Yeah, I know, the Hook Man legend.” 

“That’s one of the most famous urban legends ever,” Dean added. “You don’t think that we’re dealing with the Hook Man.”

“Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began,” said Sam.

“Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer?”

“Well, maybe the Hook Man isn’t a man at all. What if it’s some kind of spirit?” 

You had the librarian bring over boxes of arrest records. The three of you poured through pages upon pages for hours. 

“Hey, check this out. 1862,” Sam said finally. “A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes. Uh, right here, ‘some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh.’ “

“Get this, the murder weapon?” Dean was looking at another page. “Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook.” 

You pointed to a page in Sam’s book. “Look where all this happened. Nine Mile Road.”

“Same place where the frat boy was killed,” Sam chimed in. 

“Nice job, Dr. Venkamen and Annie Potts. Let’s check it out,” the older brother quipped.

The three of you headed to Nine Mile Road. Dean parked off the road in a clearing in the woods. He popped the trunk and handed Sam a shotgun. “Here you go.”

“If it is a spirit, buckshot won’t do much good,” Sam said.

“Yeah, rock salt. It won’t kill ‘em. But it’ll slow ‘em down.” Dean led the three of you through the clearing. 

“That’s pretty good. You and Dad think of this?” 

“I told you. You don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius.”

“Cool it, Winchester. You and your daddy aren’t the first people to think of rock salt bullets.” You loaded your own gun with shells of your own.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“They’re a bitch to roll,” you said.

“Oh, one hundred percent,” he remarked. 

You suddenly heard rustling in the bushes.

“Over there,” you whispered to Sam. The two of you aimed your guns and cocked it. 

The “ghost” came out from behind the trees. A sheriff. 

‘Dammit.’

“Put the gun down now!” he yelled. “Now! Put your hands behind your head.”

“Wait, wait, okay!” Dean told him. 

You immediately dropped your gun and put your hands up.

“Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees!”

You three obeyed.

“Now get down on your bellies,” he commanded. “Come on, do it!”

“Are you just on a power trip or something? ‘Cause— ah!” you were cut off by a sharp kick to the shin from Sam. 

The sheriff brought the three of you into the station. It was early the next morning by the time you were able to leave.

“Saved your asses!” Dean jeered. “Talked the sheriff down to a fine. I am Matlock.”

“How was it that you were left in charge of talking him down?” You raised a brow at him. “And how in the fuck did you do it?”

“Sweetheart, this may surprise you, but I’m good at my job. And I told him Sam was a dumbass pledge, you were his girlfriend we’d dragged along, and we were hazing you.”

You and Sam both recoiled at the idea of dating each other.

“First of all, ew,” you started, “No offense, Sam.”

“None taken.”

“But what about the shotguns?”

“I said that you were hunting ghosts and the spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical Hell Week prank.”

“And he believed you?” you asked incredulously.

“Well, Sam looks like a dumbass pledge.”

“Can’t argue with that.” You stuck your tongue out at Sam.

Moments later, several officers ran out of the building to their cruisers. Barely needing to share a look with the boys, you hurried into the car and sped away to follow them.

You could see Lori wrapped in a disposable blanket in front of the sorority house you were staying in. You weren’t exactly sure what was going on, but you had no doubt that it was another murder. The stretcher carrying a body bag rolling out of the front door affirmed that thought seconds later.

Dean parked the Impala around the back of the house. 

“Why would the Hook Man come here?” Sam asked as the three of you crept around the building. “This is a long way from Nine Mile Road.”

“Maybe he’s not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it’s about something else,” Dean suggested. 

You pulled his arm back seconds later to avoid being seen by your “sorority sisters.” You used the fact that you had now pretty much pulled yourself in front of him to allow you to lead the way up to the second floor. 

While Dean made a stupid joke about a naked pillow fight, Sam was busy giving you a boost before climbing up himself. You looked back down at the ground to see Dean struggling to find his footing.

“Need help?” you smirked.

“No,” he grumbled.

“I think you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

You waited patiently, leaning your head in your hands on the railing of the balcony and smiling down at him. He struggled for a few more moments before he conceded. All he did was open and close his hand he was extending upwards, similar to a toddler asking to be picked up.

“What’s the magic word?” you sing-songed.

“Come on!” he hissed. “Please?”

“There we go,” you smiled. You dug your heels into the ground and pulled him up.

You then realized the window you were entering was the one in Lori and Taylor’s closet. You hoped to god in that moment that Taylor wasn’t the one dead.

Your fears were realized, however, when you entered Lori and Taylor’s room to find the words “Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?” crudely etched into the wall above Taylor’s blood soaked bed. You didn’t exactly get attached to people on hunts, but seeing good people die was never easy for you. It didn’t get easier. Your dad would call you soft, but you always liked to look at your compassion as a strength.

“ ‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’ That’s right out of the legend,” Sam whispered.

“Yeah, that’s classic Hook Man all right.” Dean tapped his nose as he spoke. “It’s definitely a spirit.”

“Yeah, I’ve never smelled ozone this strong before,” Sam muttered.

“(Y/N), you okay?” Dean asked you. 

You nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah. Fine. It’s just… look at this symbol.” You were referencing the one beneath the writing. “Does that look familiar to you?”

Your head jerked toward the sound of footsteps approaching. You quickly shooed Sam and Dean back into the closet and out of the house. Thankfully, you made it back to the car without being seen. You pulled the copy you’d made at the library of one of the pages on Jacob Karns out of the backseat. That was where you had seen the cross symbol; on Karns’s hook. 

You showed it to the boys. “Told ya.”

“Alright, let’s find the dude’s grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down,” Dean said.

Sam took the page from your hand. “ ‘After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery. In an unmarked grave.’ “ He flicked the page with his finger, looking aggravated; as were you and Dean.

“Super,” the older brother muttered.

“Ok. So we know it’s Jacob Karns. But we still don’t know where he’ll manifest next. Or why,” Sam pointed out.

“I could just be spitballing here, but Lori definitely has something to do with it,” you said, looking up at the sorority house.

***

You managed to get into a party at the fraternity house Sam and Dean were staying in later that night. Dean had been busy mingling with thin college girls dressed in mini skirts while Sam stuck to the outside wall. You bounced around from talking to Sam and hustling some of the drunk frat guys in multiple rounds of pool.

The three of you reunited around the pool table you’d been dominating that night.

“Man, you’ve been holding out on me,” Dean told Sam. “This college thing is awesome!” He smiled and winked at a passing girl.

Sam looked intensely uncomfortable. “This wasn’t really my experience.”

“Let me guess. Libraries, studying, straight A’s?”

Sam nodded. You chortled.

“What a geek. Alright, you do your homework?” 

“Yeah. It was bugging me, right? So how is the Hook Man tied up with Lori? So I think I came up with something.” Sam unfolded a piece of paper. 

“1932. Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage,” Dean read.

Your eyebrows knitted together.

“There’s a pattern here,” Sam explained. “In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out— get this— with a sharp instrument.”

“What’s the connection to Lori?” Dean asked.

“Her dad. Man of religion who openly preaches against immorality,” you pointed out. “Maybe this time, though, instead of saving the whole town, he’s just trying to save his kid.”

“Reverend Sorensen,” Dean tsked. “You think he’s summoning the spirit?”

“Maybe it’s like when a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place,” you suggested.

“Yeah, the spirit latches onto the reverend’s repressed emotions, feeds off them, yeah, okay.”

“Without the reverend ever even knowing it,” Sam chimed in.

“Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight,” Dean told his brother.

“What about you?” 

Dean looked over to the opposite side of the pool table where the blonde you’d been playing with smiled at him. He reluctantly said, “(Y/N) and I are gonna go see if we can find that unmarked grave.” 

“We are? I wanted to play more eight-ball,” you told him. 

He looked back over at the blonde, back at you, and shook his head in disappointment. “C’mon. I’m not happy about it either.”

***

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go back?” you asked Dean as the two of you trudged through the Old North Cemetery. You were holding shovels and flashlights searching for the grave of Jacob Karns.

He shot you a look.

“I know, I know, I’m kidding,” you laughed. “But seriously. Now that we’re… acquaintances, we should go out to a bar sometime. Preferably one with a pool table.”

“That’d be cool, actually,” he said, smirking at you. “You’re pretty good.”

“What, at pool?”

He nodded. “I could probably still kick your ass, though.”

“You’re on, pretty boy.”

He stopped and turned to you. “Don’t objectify me.”

“What?” you asked, stopping next to him. “You know you’re gorgeous. You frequently use it to your advantage.” You marched on.

You smiled when you heard him mutter, “You are so confusing, woman.”

You walked for a few more minutes before your flashlight landed on a grave marked with that cross symbol from Taylor’s room. “Jackpot.”

You and Dean set to work exhuming Jacob’s corpse. Your back and shoulders ached more and more the deeper you dug. “How fucking far down is six feet?” you remarked breathlessly. 

“I don’t know, but next time, I get to watch the cute girl’s house,” he replied.

“Aw, you don’t wanna spend quality time with this cute girl?” you asked playfully. 

He eyed you strangely with a lopsided smile. 

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing. You’re just funny,” he told you.

You smiled back and got back to digging. Your shovel finally hit the wooden box lying below. You broke through it to reveal his corpse. Or at least, what remained of it. 

“Hello, preacher,” Dean said. He threw his shovel aside and helped you out of the hole you had dug. After he had climbed out, you poured salt and lighter fluid all over the bones. 

“Goodbye, preacher.” Dean threw a match down into the grave.

Your nose twisted up in disgust. “I will never get used to that smell.”

“What, burnt, hundred-year-old preacher? Me neither.”

You and Dean packed up and headed back to the car that was parked in the cemetery’s parking lot. Your body was exhausted. 

“Um, weird question,” you started. 

He turned to you and threw his shovel and duffel bag in the trunk. 

“You think we could sleep in your car for a bit? I’m running on two days of no sleep.”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. It should all be over now and Sam should be layin’ it down with Lori.”

And so, you did. You stretched out over the backseat, and Dean laid down on the front. A few moments of silence passed between the two of you, and strangely, you no longer felt tired. You supposed it was the strangeness of the situation. You were now sharing a somewhat intimate moment with a man you despised just weeks prior. You weren’t quite sure where your relationship with Dean was heading, and that bothered you a bit.

“Dean?”

“Hm.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

***

Four hours of shut-eye later, you felt recharged. You awoke to the sound of Dean’s phone vibrating over which Sam told you to meet him at a hospital.

“Hospital? Why? Is he okay?” you asked Dean, climbing over the front seat to sit shotgun. 

“I think so, but he said the reverend’s hurt.”

About fifteen minutes later, you were walking down a long corridor only to be stopped by two cops in wide-brimmed hats. 

The sheriffs put a hand to Dean’s chest to stop him.

“No, it’s alright, we’re with him. He’s my brother,” he explained. “Hey! Brother!” he called, waving dorkishly at Sam.  

“Let them through.”

“Thanks.” 

You and Dean began walking toward Sam, who met you in the middle.

“You okay?” Dean asked. 

“Yeah,” sighed Sam.

“What the hell happened?” 

“Hook Man.”

You looked incredulous. “You saw him?”

“Damn right. Why didn’t you torch the bones?” Sam responded.

“We did,” you rebutted, confused. “You sure it’s the spirit of Jacob Karns?”

“It sure as hell looked like him,” Sam returned. “And that’s not all. I don’t think the spirit is latching on to the reverend.”

“Well, duh, he wouldn’t send Hook Man after himself,” you remarked.

“I think it’s latching onto Lori. Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman.” He whispered that last part.

“Damn.” You gritted your teeth. “I could see how that could upset her.”

Sam nodded. “She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished.”

“Ok, so she’s conflicted,” Dean chimed in. “And the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to repress the emotions and maybe he’s doing the punishing for her, huh?”

“Right,” the younger brother nodded. “Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, Dad has an affair.”

“Remind me not to piss this girl off,” Dean muttered. “But we burned those bones, buried them in salt, why didn’t that stop him?”

“We must’ve missed something,” you said. 

“No, we burned everything in that coffin.”

“Did you get the hook?” Sam asked the two of you.

Realization struck you. “Fuck,” you grumbled. “No.”

“Why does that matter?” Dean asked.

“Well, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, it was part of him,” Sam told him.

“So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power.”

“So if we find the hook—”

The three of you finished Sam’s sentence in unison, grinning. “We stop the Hook Man.”

“Well, back to the drawing board,” you said as the three of you began walking away from the reverend’s hospital room.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“Do you know where the hook is?” you raised your eyebrows at him. 

He said nothing.

“Exactly,” you giggled.

***

Your next stop was the library for the second time this hunt. As much as you liked to read, obnoxious amounts of research was not your thing. Finally, you thought you’d found something. “Log book, Iowa State Penitentiary. ‘Karns, Jacob. Personal effects: disposition thereof.’ “

“Does it mention the hook?” Sam asked you.

“I don’t know. ‘Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner’s house of worship, St. Barnabas Church,’ “ you read aloud. “That’s where Lori’s dad preaches.”

“Where Lori lives, too?” Sam asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.

“Maybe that’s why the Hook Man has been haunting reverends and reverends’ daughters for the past two hundred years,” Dean added.

“Yeah, but I think someone would’ve noticed a blood-stained, silver-handled hook hangin’ around the church or Lori’s house.”

Dean pulled out another book and slapped it down in front of you. “Check the church records.”

Sam pulled the book to sit between the two of you. You and he flipped through pages upon pages of records before he found something. “ ‘St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received silver-handled hook from state penitentiary. Reforged.’ “ He sighed. “They melted it down. Made it into something else.”

“Goddammit,” you grumbled. 

Later that night, you and the boys returned to St. Barnabas Church. Dean shouldered a duffel bag and began leading you to the church. Sam followed close behind.

“Alright, we can’t take any chances,” the older brother began. “Anything silver goes in the fire.”

“I agree. So, Lori’s still at the hospital. We’ll have to break in,” Sam added.

“Okay, take your pick,” you told him.

“I’ll take the house,” Sam responded.

“Dean and I will take the church, then.”

“We will?” the older brother asked.

“Yup.”

You led Dean up to the church. He called back to his brother. “Hey. Stay out of her underwear drawer.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice and giggled.

You took the top floor of the church while Dean scoured the basement. The two of you, along with Sam, met up in the furnace room. 

“I got everything that even looked silver,” Sam told you.

“Better safe than sorry,” Dean said. 

Your head turned upward at the sound of footsteps. You could hear Dean taking his gun from his jacket as you grabbed yours.

“Move, move,” Dean told you quietly.

You crept up the stairs as quietly as possible. When you got back to the ground floor, you could see Lori hunched over, her shoulders shaking. You lowered your gun and lightly pushed Sam forward. He shot you a look, but headed over to Lori anyway. You and Dean went back downstairs to continue melting the silver. 

“I feel for her,” you said quietly. “I know how much religion can fuck you up.” Silver clanked against the coals in the furnace as you spoke.

Dean turned his head to you. “You do?”

You nodded. “I’ve watched so many people go through crisis after crisis when their loved ones end up dead.”

“Me too,” he said earnestly. “Probably why I don’t pray.”

“Well, it’s a little difficult to believe in a higher power when all day, everyday is blood, guts, and monsters,” you remarked.

He chuckled. “Yeah. I don’t know if I’ve met one religious hunter.”

“I have,” you said. “My mom.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She was somehow still convinced of ‘God’s plan.’ “

“Catholic?”

“Oh, very.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied playfully.

“Yeah, me too,” you smiled. “My dad wasn’t, but, uh, he had his… other issues.”

Before he could ask further questions, you heard commotion upstairs. It sounded like running heading toward the opposite side of the basement.

“C’mon,” Dean urged, sprinting out of the furnace room with his gun in hand. You followed closely behind. You could hear the breaking of boards and slamming of what you assumed were bodies that practically shook the walls that got louder as you got closer. Sam was maneuvering himself behind the Hook Man’s clunkily-moving apparition. 

Dean gruffly called to his brother, “Sam, drop!”

His brother obeyed and Dean shot the Hook Man, who disappeared.

“I thought we got all the silver,” you said.

“So did I,” the older brother answered.

“Then why is he still here?” Sam’s voice was frantic.

“Well, maybe we missed something!”

You looked around and noticed Lori’s cross necklace. “Lori, where did you get that chain?”

“My father gave it to me,” she responded nervously.

“Where’d your dad get it?” Sam asked.

“He said it was a church heirloom,” she answered quickly. “He gave it to me when I started school.”

“Is it silver?!”

“Yes!”

Sam ripped the chain off her and threw it to you. You caught it with ease and went to start running back down the hall when the invisible Hook Man started dragging his hook along the wall.  

You threw Sam your gun and started running down another corridor you hoped would bring you to the same destination. You could vaguely hear Dean say to his brother, “I’ll cover (Y/N), shoot anything that moves!” before you heard approaching quick footsteps behind you.

You sprinted down winding hallways and thankfully quickly made it to the furnace room. You threw the necklace into the fire and watched as it slowly began to melt. “C’mon, c’mon,” you muttered anxiously. It took longer than you would’ve liked, but the cross broke off the necklace and burned into ash. As soon as it did, you and Dean ran back to the latter’s brother to make sure the ghost was gone. Thankfully, he had, but Sam seemed injured. He was clutching his left shoulder and wincing. 

You called the police to the scene and urged them to send an ambulance. They arrived in no time, and Sam was able to get his injury patched up. 

“And you saw him, too?” A sheriff was asking you and writing in a notepad. “The man with the hook?”

“Yeah, we all saw him,” you responded. “We fought him off and then he ran.”

“And that’s all?” The sheriff was skeptical.

“Yes, sir.”

“Listen. You and those two boys—”

Dean came up behind you and answered for you. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re leaving town.”

You laughed at his response. Sam and Lori talking near the ambulance caught your eye. You continued watching them in the rearview mirror once you’d gotten in the backseat of the car. Sam soon left Lori, who looked after him sadly, and stooped down into the car. 

“We could stay,” Dean suggested. 

You could tell Sam wanted to, but he shook his head. A deflated air had settled over the car, but you knew the younger Winchester wasn’t ready for anything yet. He’d been dating Jessica for a year and a half and had just lost her less than four months ago. You knew he needed more time. The best way you knew to comfort him was to wrap your hands around his shoulders gently, minding his injury, from your place in the backseat. He tensed for a moment, but allowed you to hug him nonetheless. He responded by holding your arm with his good hand. And for a moment, if you closed your eyes, it was almost like hugging Steven again. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee

[bootsukki]

2.

fic masterlist!

full masterlist

taglist: @adelinesthoights @bellssforyou @halfp4stmidnight @avis-writeshq @carm1lla @sunghoonsgfreal @reirain @cherrypieyourface @aynfp @keldracula @kurroomii @chilichopsticks @shanchiikiss @starstrikeer @yzaelki @just-lilita @chiiibeaa @baby-bunnyxn @zarisluvr @xxpr3ttyk173rxx @albakugo @swoozleee

As soon as you leave the apartment complex, Tsukishima’s hand leaves yours.

“Sorry, they were looking at us.”

“That’s fine.”

“Are those all your friends?”

“Well…” As he starts walking, Tsukishima realises that he’s nervous. “They are Yachi’s friends but they have always included me in their hangouts, I don’t know if they consider me their friend.”

Tsukishima is usually confident with everything he does but doing this fake-thing with you fill him with a lot of anxiety. Last night, the reality of what he was doing kept him awake during the majority of the night, debating on whether he should call it all off and tell his friends that it was a prank but damage was done: he told Yamaguchi about you and sent a picture to the groupchat which didn’t calm his friends but rather made them more excited to meet you.  Tanaka’s invitation to their usual hangouts extended to you and he just answered with a big fat “we’ll be there”.

You’re an angel. An angel for accepting doing this with him. 

He nods slowly, hands hidden in the pockets of his jacket.

“Tanaka is the one with the buzz cut, right?”

“Right.”

“And we’ll be there with… Hinata, Yamaguchi, Kageyama and someone else?”

“Maybe Nishinoya will show up if he’s in town.” 

Tanaka does not live far from your apartment complex and less than 10 minutes later, you find yourself waiting in front of apartment 223’s door. You can hear people talking inside and laughter as Tanaka opens the door. 

“Hi there!”

You watch as a tall man approaches you and hugs you without even thinking. Tsukishima mumbles something under his breath, waiting for Tanaka to leave you alone and you just send a look towards Tsukishima.

“That’s enough.”

“Tsukki, don’t be that protective.” Tanaka smiles, pulling away from the hug. You feel your cheeks reddening and he introduces himself. “Tanaka Ryonosuke”

You smile and introduce yourself before Tanaka grabs your arm and pulls you inside the apartment, rambling about something you can’t seem to understand. 

Tsukishima follows close behind and Tanaka tells you where drinks are before leaving the kitchen and moving towards, what it looks like, the living room.

“Sorry about that.”

“It was… interesting.” You say with a laugh, opening the fridge. “Are all of your friends like this?”

“No, Tanaka is just… really touchy.” He adds. “Listen, if anything makes you uncomfortable or you feel like leaving, just let me know, okay?”

“Okay.” You answer, grabbing a can of beer. “You’re not going to kill me or something, right?”

Tsukishima scoffs, grateful that you’re taking everything with humor and his nerves start to dissipate. This is easy. Be together, stay for a few rounds and leave.

“I’m joking, of course.” You offer him a can and he takes it, opening it. “Cheers for little white lies.”

“Cheers to that.”

After taking a few sips and preparing yourself mentally for the task at hand, Tsukishima leads the way towards the living room. The decorations are simple, a black couch, a big table, a TV stand and a dead plant. The couch is occupied by some people that can’t keep their eyes off you and you recognize some of them from the picture Tsukishima showed you the day before. 

“Tsukki!” A boy with bright orange hair jumps from his spot on the couch and makes his way towards you. “Introduce us! Introduce us!”

All the eyes are on you now and you feel a bit insecure about your outfit, hair, well, everything. Those are Tsukishima’s friends and you shouldn’t worry that much, right?

Tsukishima introduces you to the guy in front of you: Shoyo Hinata, who starts talking your ear off, saying how excited he is to finally meet the girl “Tsukishima has been hiding” and you just politely smile and greet him back. Almost all of Tsukishima’s friends join the conversation, introducing themselves: Yamaguchi, who you already know, waves in your direction; Nishinoya Yuu, Tanaka’s roommate who has just arrived home from being in the US for over two months, working for his grandpa’s business, some other people that you don’t recognize from the picture (maybe Tanaka’s friends from class?). Only one of his friends stays behind: a tall one with black hair and blue eyes who you recognize as Kageyama.

You feel him looking at you from his spot next to the television and you just politely wave at him. He just nods his head and ignores you for the time being. Rude.

“Where are you from, (Y/N)?”

“Oh, Hyogo.”

“Wow, that’s far from here!” Hinata exclaims. “Do you usually travel by train?”

“Yes, that’s the fastest way to get to Sendai.” You answer him, noticing how Kageyama has approached the group, taking sips from his drink. “I like Sendai, it is pretty cool.”

“I feel like Hyogo is better. You’re really close to Osaka and Kyoto.” Hinata’s smile widens. “I’ve heard that the rail system is the best out of Japan.”

“Are you a train nerd now?” 

“What brought you here?” It is the first time you have heard Kageyama talk. He looms over the others, still watching you with a weird expression. Putting out your best fake smile, you answer.

“Sendai has the best journalism program out of the majority of the Japanese universities.” You look at Tsukishima, ignoring Kageyama’s gaze on you.

“Hey, Tanaka, where’s Kiyoko?” 

“Ugh, ignoring me like always. She likes to play hard.”

You excuse yourself, getting out of the conversation to grab another drink from the fridge. As soon you approach the kitchen, you feel someone behind you and you turn, finding Kageyama in front of you.

“Oh, sorry. Did you want another drink?”

“Not really, just wanted to properly introduce myself.”

You open the fridge and pick up a cherry cola.

“I’m Kageyama.” He placed a hand on the door of the fridge, leaning towards it, looking at you. You introduce yourself again and open your drink, feeling really awkward at the silence and Kageyama’s blue eyes roaming all your face.

“I need to-”

“I didn’t know there were pretty girls in journalism.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, I always thought they were….” Kageyama says. “You know.”

“I don’t but okay.” You try to make your way out of the kitchen but he stops you. You send him your best smile, trying your best to get out of the conversation. Is this truly the guy Tsukishima is worried about? “Tsukki is waiting for me.”

“Is he? I’m sure he doesn’t mind me stealing his girlfriend for a few minutes because… That’s what you are, right? His girlfriend.”

“Of course.” You pray he doesn’t notice your shaky voice. “I’m his girlfriend.”

“Do you treat him right?” Kageyama places a hand on your shoulder and squeezes it. “I want the best for my friend, you know?”

You move his hand away from your shoulder and nod. “He’s great.”

“It is weird that he has been hiding you from us, don’t you think?”

“I think that what we do is none of your business.”

Kageyama smirks and you feel your blood boil. What is his problem?

“No need to get angry, girlie.” Kageyama raises his hands and leans back, giving you space to leave the kitchen. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same.”

You leave the kitchen and make your way next to Tsukishima, who looks at you, waiting for a signal. You don’t want to cause bad blood between him and Kageyama and you avoid saying anything about that weird encounter you’ve just had. 

“Okay! Sit down and get ready for the games!”

Tsukishima offers you a mint drop and you take it, savoring its falvour on your tongue. 

“Your friends are great,” you utter. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Tsukishima turns to you. He watches your rosy cheeks for the few drinks you have had and your pretty smile. 

“I’m glad you had fun.” He answers. “Before going home, I want… Do you like ramen?”

You nod slowly and he grabs your arm, pushing you towards him.

“I’m going to show you the best ramen you’ve ever tried.”

You start walking side by side and you feel sad when his big and warm hand leaves your arm. You’re a bit cold and you curse yourself for wearing a skirt in the middle of November but the silence between you is more than comfortable.

You had teamed up with him or Yamaguchi for the majority of games, enjoying the discussions created by Nishinoya and Tanaka and the horrible guesses Hinata had of Kageyama’s definitions.

“My friends like you.”

“Really?”

“I promise.” Tsukishima says. “They haven’t said anything to me because they’ve just met you, but I know them.”

You think of Kageyama for a second, not agreeing with what Tsukishima was saying, but you nodded. 

“I’m glad.” You look up, looking at the few stars that were visible that night. You truly are happy about it. Meeting new people, socializing… You feel like a brand new person. “Thank you, Tsukki.”

Tsukishima stops and looks at you, confused. 

“Thank you for being the best company tonight.”

Tsukishima’s smile broadens as he walks in front of you and you run to keep up with his fast pace. You start to ramble about a project that you need to finish before Wednesday and Tsukishima only asks you basic questions about it while you walk together. 

Tsukishima stops dead in his tracks in front of a small restaurant next to the education building. You have never been in this part of university, having your class on the other side of campus but it seems like the restaurant is open 24 hours during exam period.

Tsukishima pushes the door open and you follow him. A gentle chime rings as the door swings open and your mouth waters at the smell of the shimmering miso broth you love. The warmth of it mixes with ginger and garlic, each scent sending you into a personal heaven. 

You hear the soft music play in the background and you notice that, even at this time during the night, thedre are a few students sharing storeis over a bowl of ramen, the soft golden illumination casting golden pools on the walls and tables. 

Tsukishima moves towards a table while you admire the place and the sounds of the sizzle of oil and the rhythmic sound of noodles being stirred in boiling water. As you sit, you feel like there’s something in the air, a sense of connection–people sharing personal stories over food, others sharing notes… it feels intimate in some way.

You see Tsukishima talking to the waiter and you quickly make your way towards the table, noticing that Tsukishima has ordered for you. You sit down, looking at him for just a second. The golden light makes his eyes look lighter than usually and even though he is usually handsome, you feel like, under this light, he looks prettier. 

Tuskishima offers you a glass of water and you accept it quickly, hoping the cold water cools your rosy cheeks and wake you up from your tipsy state.

“I asked for my favourite. I think it’s the best.”

“I trust you.” You look around once again. “How did you discover this place?”

“Well, the education library is one of the calmest ones and I like to walk, so I tend to study here after I finish volleyball practice. I get really hungry whenever I play and I sometimes eat a bowl before studying.”

You nod slowly, mouth watering at the sight of other bowls passing by.

“How long have you played?”

“Nearly 6 years. I started when I was 15.”

“Are you good?”

“Not as good as Kageyama or Hinata but I’d like to think so.” Tsukishima answers. “What are your hobbies?”

“I like to read and… craft.”

“Craft?”

“Yeah, I love watching DIY videos and try making them. For example, I love making bracelets and earrings and all those kinds of stuff.” You say, watching as Tsukishima places his chin on one of his palms. “And… Sorry, I am boring you.”

“You are not. Please, continue.”

“O-Okay.” You look at him. “I love photography and music, fashion and travelling.”

You continue mentioning all the things you used to do in your free time and, between laughs and more than one embarrassing anecdote (“I had to get my eyebrows waxed as a child because I thought putting glue on them was a great idea”), your food arrives.

The bowl sits in front of you, radiating warmth. The broth catches your eye first—a golden sea, shimmering and alive, its surface punctuated by tiny droplets of chili oil that ripple and glisten under the soft light. Steam rises, carrying the scent of roasted garlic, caramelized soy, and a whisper of sesame, weaving its way around you like a spell.

Your chopsticks hover and you grab them, thanking Tsukishima for the meal before looking at the noodles, swimming in the broth, golden. Next to them lies a slice of chashu pork, one of your favourites, with its edges seared just enough to give it a smoky feeling. You  focus next on the soft-boiled egg, its yolk glowing with a rich, creamy orange hue that also hurts to look at. You don’t know if you could eat the piece of art that is in front of you. Scallions, nori and bamboo decorate the bowl and tiny sesame seeds sparkle on the surface. 

Tsukishima is looking at you, waiting to see your reaction to the food he has chosen and you take your first sip of the broth, its warmth heating up your entire body. 

You nearly moan at the taste of it and you just closed your eyes and hum, which Tsukishima takes as an “this is great” and starts eating. 

After a few minutes of eating, Tsukishima leaves his chopsticks on the edge.

“You’re also the best company I could have had tonight, (Y/N).”

[muniimyg]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ chaebol!jungkook (8) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist closed.

note: for my og readers... iykyk

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @kekerrreke @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

//

jungkook doesn't know if he's gone completely mad or if he's just mad.

it's so blurry right now. the difference in feeling, the moment, the way he feels like he lost all control. it's so strange. in his head, he knows it isn't that bad. so what if you've been ignoring his texts for the past two weeks. so what if you've been absent from all the events he expects to see you and your fiancé at. so fucking what?

so what if he storms downstairs and knocks on your door?

he brought three excuses to offer you but as he stands in front of your door, his knees go weak. he ignores his gut feeling to follow his heart. without another thought, jungkook knocks on your door.

once.

twice.

then, he loses it. he begins to bang on your door like a fucking psycho.

just as he takes a breath, you open the door. wide-eyed, you stare at him in complete shock. then, when you find your words, you spit them at him. "are you out of your fucking mind?"

jungkook takes a step inside your home.

"are you?" he hisses. "two weeks? leaving me after we fucked and i fell asleep was one thing, but ignoring me for two weeks is another. do you get that? what the fuck could you be up to that requires your attention for two weeks—"

"keep your voice down!" you yelp, pushing him back. "he's—"

"jeon?" your fiancé identifies as he comes out from a door. jungkook catches a glimpse. it's your bedroom.

your fiancé walks towards you two, adjusting his tie. he smiles, greeting jungkook warmly.

"is everything okay? you've never visited our home before," he says as he snakes his arm around your waist. your lips curve into a gentle smile as he does this to you. "are you here for business matters? ran out of sugar? or a wedding invite? we just finalized them." he rambles rather excited.

none.

i'm here for your fucking wife.

jungkook shakes his head. "are you headed out?"

your fiancé nods. instantly, you break away from him and open the closet door nearby. taking a jacket out, you help put it on your fiancé. he thanks you as he puts his shoes on.

"last minute meeting. gotta head to the office since my study is filled with wedding prep stuff. ___ here wanted the space. of course i had to give it to her," he laughs. "i'd give her the world."

jungkook bites his tongue.

"y-yeah. i, uh, i just came by because the penthouse cleaning lady did my laundry and mixed our clothing—this belongs to you, right?"

you and your fiancé freeze as jungkook offers your panties.

"total mix up."

your fiancé lowers his gaze at jungkook. he sucks his teeth in and thinks for a moment. you grab your panties from jungkook's hand and hide behind your man. why would jungkook do this? he's swimming too far out. he's crossing too many lines.

you feel him grow suspicious as he states, "there's only three penthouses in his building... kinda weird that ms. kwon would get our loads mixed up..."

you clear your throat.

"love, you're going to be late." you reach over and give him a kiss on the cheek. "come home soon, okay?"

he shakes off the moment and nods. "godspeed. it was nice seeing you, jungkook... thanks for bringing back her... love, while he's here, you can give him the invitation! it'll be a waste to mail it. oh, hey! come to our rehearsal dinner too. it's next friday. go on, love. invite him to that too!"

"for sure," you comply. "jungkook, join us then too."

jungkook blinks at you. "i'll have my secretary clear my schedule... yah... you should get going. good luck with the meeting. if you need anything, let me know." jungkook adds, offering his hand to your fiancé to shake.

he tugs jungkook's hand and grins. "is this you saying you want to merge? i can draft a contract by tonight. join us for breakfast tomorrow and we can be one big happy family."

jungkook chuckles, declining his awful offer. "you wish."

your fiancé laughs heartily. "we can't be competitors forever," he says. "to be honest, i constantly feel like i'm losing against you."

you gulp at his words.

jungkook's eyes shift to you.

then, your fiancé glances at his watch and notices the time. he bids you two goodbye. pushing past jungkook, your fiancé hears him say something he never expect to hear.

"jin," jungkook breathes, "i feel the same."

with that, jin gives him a gentle look. as he turns around to leave for real, he reminds you to give jungkook the first invitation to the wedding. when jin is out of sight, jungkook turns to you. he doesn't say it, but he feels it.

he feels heartbroken.

jungkook takes a moment to look around your home. he's never seen it, really. it's beautiful. there's a lot of things that remind him of you and your taste. the colours, textures, and even placement of art... there's a lot of pictures. pictures of jin and his fishing trips, yours and his travels, and family.

so many pictures of family.

there's a burning feeling inside of him that he can't contain. it's either jealousy or guilt. he doesn't know. he doesn't really want to know.

"what the hell was that?" you cry, shoving jungkook.

jungkook doesn't move.

"not that i have to explain myself to you, but i've been busy with the wedding stuff. why can't you be patient? why can't you leave me alone—"

"goddamnit, don't you think i've tried, woman? do you think i like doing this? i've done everything i can. i even fucking bought you a new phone since yours must be broken—" he pulls out a new phone from his back pocket and tosses it across your kitchen island. you watch it slide, eyebrows knitting together.

"why? my phone isn't broken—"

"then fucking answer when i call. when i text. when i want you."

you glare at him.

"i'm not yours, jungkook."

he towers over you.

"so fucking what?"

a silence falls upon you two. it's almost upsetting. it's almost like if heartache had a sound—this would be it.

"why'd you come here?" you whisper. "you didn't need to bring my panties down. you didn't need to give me a new phone. you—"

"i miss you," jungkook confesses. "i miss you so much that nothing feels the same. my home doesn't feel like home anymore. i miss everything about you. i miss the way you'd come back to me... now, you don't even send me a text back?"

"jungkook—"

"do you miss me too?" he asks, sounding desperate. he takes your hand and pulls you close. "say you miss me, please... i'm losing my mind. i need to know you miss me too."

you take a breath in, feeling dizzy from the truth.

"say it, ___," jungkook begs, as he drops your hands and places his on your waist. pulling you even closer, he places soft kisses on your neck. "you miss me too, right? say you miss me."

you stay silent.

"y-you're going too far, jungkook... you can't come to me home and demand things like this. you can't speak to jin like that—"

"fine," he yields. "i'm sorry. i apologize. i'll send you a fruit basket to signify my regret. i'll behave at the rehearsal dinner. i promise to do all of that... if you j-just—"

"okay, okay," you cup his face and run your thumb across his lips. looking at him sweetly, you see his eyes tearing up. he was hurting. you know it.

"i missed you too," you cave. "i miss you, jungkook."

just like that, jungkook's whole world lights up again.

he kisses you deeply. so much so that when you pull up for air, you lose balance. he picks you up and takes you to your bedroom. the bedroom you share with jin.

there, he sets you down. he takes off his shirt, and then he unbuckles his belt. you watch as he strips and salivate over his body. he crawls on top, hands reaching for the nape of your neck. jungkook then brings you to his lips, kissing you once again. then, he begins.

he has you in all the way he wants to.

you give it to him.

he places himself in between your legs and brings heaven to you. jungkook does everything he's been missing to do with you. he eats you out until your legs shake. he fucks you until you can't take it. somewhere in between your moans and uttering his name, jungkook cums inside you.

he spills himself inside you. onto your sheets. yours and jin’s.

when he rolls off of you, you take a minute for yourself. as you gather your thoughts and he dresses himself, you can't help but feel shameless. your stomach twists and turns. it flips and flops like never before. there’s a sudden wave of indescribable emotions that take over. your mind floods with morale attempts to fix this.

then, it draws a blank.

"do you want me to help you change your sheets?" he asks, breaking the silence.

you shake your head.

"n-no... i just... i can't believe i just—"

"we just..."

"yeah... we just..." you feel yourself about to cry. "can you go? the invitations are in his study. third door to your left. keep your promise, okay? behave at the rehearsal dinner. bring a date. figure it out, jungkook."

"___—"

"i'm begging you... i don't know what else i can do. it's like i have no control when i'm with you. i always cave. i always go to you. i always... is it always going to be like this? am i always going to be this messy?" you choke on your own words. as you feel yourself sob, you let him know one more thing; "it feels like i've known you all my life. is that weird? like we've met before. we've loved before.... but here? in this life... it's like we can't even..."

"we can't what?"

"we can't even be friends."

jungkook takes a breath. he doesn't go to you when you start to cry. he lets you have this for yourself. rushing out, he doesn't bother to take an invitation for your precious wedding.

from the beginning, he had decided what to do with you.

he'd wait.

he'd wait for you to like him again.

he'd wait for your love.

link to paraluman ... again, iykyk :)

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter two

summary: you decided to meet luca, taking him up on his offer to return the favor, and it gives the both of you the opportunity to get to know each other better.

warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 2777

a/n: for an america's indepedence day, have a hot brit and a love story that takes place in denmark lmao. okay so now we're all caught up with what i wrote for the headcanon and boy do i have some surprises in store for you next. thank you so much for all of the reactions to chapter one and the headcanon. this story has weaseled its way into my heart and has taken over my brain. i'm writing it for me but it's nice to hear others are enjoying it too. anyways, let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

chapter one | masterlist | chapter three

“You have to go!” Jesper insists with the kind of conviction of a damn good lawyer. 

“I don’t have to anything,” you reply, making sure to emphasize the word ‘have.’

“No, you have to go,” Mathilde chimes in, a little softer, a little kinder than her brother’s earlier encouragement. 

After your post-shift meeting, everyone had gone home, save for the three of you – the Mikkelson twins cornering you about Luca’s thank-you-card proposition.

“Well, since you both keep harping on it, why don’t you come with me?” you suggest, in an attempt to shift the focus off of you. 

Your eyes scan their faces, trying to get a read on the both of them as Jesper and Mathilde exchange a pointed look, having the kind of non-verbal exchange that only comes from having shared every moment of their lives together.

“What?” you ask, looking back and forth from Mathilde to Jesper again.

“It wasn’t addressed to us,” Mathilde points out with a shrug, a sly look on her face. “It was only addressed to you.”

“Looks like someone has a crush,” Jesper adds with a smirk. 

“He doesn’t have a crush!” you protest without hesitation, your heart seizing for a moment. 

“A talent crush,” Mathilde reasons, knowing that anything more than a talent-crush would talk you out of going entirely. 

“Would it be the worst thing in the world if he did?” Jesper continues, much to both you and Mathilde’s chagrin. “I mean, when was the last time you got-, ow!”

Sharply cut off by an elbow to the rib, Jesper glares at his sister before returning his attention to you. 

“I’m just saying! He’s sexy. He’s a chef at one of the best restaurants in the world. You could do worse for yourself,” Jesper clarifies, earning another glare from his sister. 

He has a point, but you ignore it, because you’re not really sure if you’re ready to go there just yet. You think it over, and after giving it another moment, you open your mouth to speak again. 

“Alright, I’ll go,” you sigh in resignation, earning a few celebratory comments and gasps from the twins. “Are you both happy now?”

And that’s how – after at least an hour of stressing out about what to wear to a place like this – you find yourself standing in front of a closed restaurant on a day where almost everything is closed in Denmark. You’d settled on a pair of wide leg denim pants, a square toed boot appropriate for navigating the Copenhagen cobblestone, and a white and black striped sweater, slightly tucked into the front of your jeans that hangs loosely from your frame. 

Classic. Put-together enough for a two-starred Michelin restaurant on closed day. Certainly not a date kind of outfit.

Luca proves once again to be punctual as ever as he greets you at the front door, right on time. He wears a blue t-shirt that seems to emphasize his already intense blue eyes with a navy-colored apron layered over top of it. 

“You came,” are the first words he says to you, a wide smile spreading across his lips as soon as he sees you.

“Yeah I uh-, thank you. For inviting me,” you stammer, nervously searching for the right words. 

“Thank you for coming. Well, c’mon then!” he encourages, nodding towards the inside as he holds the door open for you. 

“Did you find the place alright?” Luca asks you, as you follow him. 

He leads you into the vaulted basement – the space that makes up the Danish-style, fine dining restaurant that’s been a leader in innovation. You follow Luca through the closed dining room, back into the kitchen, and then into the pastry room as you answer his question, mentioning that it wasn’t too long of a walk and that you found the place just fine.

As soon as you see what he’s been working on, it renders you near-speechless. You can see that he’s been hard at work – on his day off, no less – almost as if he knew you would come. 

“Would you like to have a seat?” he offers, gesturing towards the pastry bench. 

“Uh.. yeah. That’d be great. I-, um… thank you… again, for inviting me,” you answer, watching as he brings a stool over to it, setting up a little space for you. 

“Oh, it’s my pleasure. It’s really the least I can do. Think after this we’re uh… what 5 to 1?” he replies casually, in reference to the fact that he’ll only have fed you once in comparison to the amount of times he’s come to the restaurant. 

You chuckle, returning with a playful, “Well, I don’t think anyone’s keeping score.”

He sends a crooked smile your way, one that you know you’ll be thinking about for the rest of the week, before exchanging a laugh with you. 

“Just think of it as a thank you. For the great meals. For the hospitality,” he continues, as you watch him plate his gelee-focused dish. First the chocolate, then yellow, white, and green. A carefully tweezed wafer on top. 

“This is a shiso gelee with a chocolate mint ganache, finished with a thin slice of marzipan, and a caramel cracker. It’s from our current menu,” Luca introduces, walking you through the dish like you walked him through your crispy rice and trumpet mushroom dish. 

He pushes the plate-that-looks-more-like-a-pedestal towards you for you to try, his eyes meeting yours. Luca studies you carefully as you pick up the fork he’s set out for you, cutting through the gelee for your first bite. He watches as you scoop up a little of the ganache, making sure to get a bit of the cracker as well. 

You’re creating a perfect bite – one with a little bit of everything – just like he’d done with the first dish of yours he had a month or so ago. 

As you raise the fork to your lips, taking your first bite, the vibrant flavors hit your tongue with surprise and brilliance that you weren’t expecting. It’s somehow new, innovative, yet nostalgic all at once. 

“Oh my god,” you say with a sigh of pure bliss. You savor each and every flavor, taking your time with your first bite before continuing with: “It’s almost like-.”

“A minty snickers bar?” he offers up with a quirk of an eyebrow. 

“That’s exactly it!” you cry out with joy. 

He smiles proudly, “Yeah, it’s a nice dish.”

“So how long have you been doing this? Cooking…? Or have you done Pastry the whole time?” you ask, digging into the rest of the gelee. 

“About fourteen years… give or take. Started when I was a kid… just washing dishes… was a bit of a rebel…. The kitchen gave me a place to land,” he shares with an ease and charm that makes you feel like you could tell him all of your secrets. 

“Yeah, no I-, I get that,” you agree, enjoying your second bite of Luca’s shiso dish. 

“Gave my mum a little peace of mind. That’s for sure. Don’t think I was an easy kid to raise,” he continues as you listen. 

“Didn’t start pastry till about three years ago or so. Went mostly the fine dining route… worked my way up to sous position at a really great place, but wasn’t interested in moving up the ranks in that regard. Decided it was time to try something different.”

You nod with respect for his decision for change. 

“Where’d you grow up?” you ask curiously, watching him wipe down the pastry bench with a clean towel as he begins to prepare for a second dish.

“London,” he answers. 

“Oh! I uh, lived there for a few years, actually,” you say, sharing a familiar smile with him. 

“What about you? Where’d you grow up? And how long have you been cooking for?” he asks, shifting the focus of the conversation to you. 

“Boston,” you reply. 

He hums in response, “I’ve never been. What was that like?”

“Boston is great. Good weather, great food, interesting people. ‘S actually where I learned how to cook. My mom’s a single parent so… I spent a lot of time at our neighbor’s house… and their restaurant. They still own this Italian restaurant that’s like… been in the family for a hundred or so years and I practically grew up there,” you explain, sharing parts of yourself – of your story – in return. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks, an amused look on his face. 

“Yeah, we hung out there a lot when we were kids – me and my best friend. Then when I was old enough to work, I marched in one day after school and pitched myself for a job, demanding that I cook and that I’d accept nothing less” you reminisce trying your best to recreate the bold confidence of your fifteen year old self.

Luca chuckles in response, “That’s incredible,”

“I was a rather precocious child,” you add, laughing with a fondness for that previous version of you.

He smiles, “Yeah, I know the feeling well.”

Luca clears his throat, pulling out a clean bowl and beginning to plate something new. He explains that this one is a savory dish, starting with a fermented sourdough cracker as he walks you through the flavor profiles of each component, mentioning that it’s got to be one of his favorites on the menu so far. 

“I’m up for sharing if you are,” you suggest, in response to his last comment. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

You watch as Luca picks up another fork, digging into the dish with you. There’s an intimacy that comes from sharing a meal with someone – eating off the same plate, enjoying the same sensory experience, quite literally breaking bread – that makes Luca feel less and less like a stranger to you with each bite. You still can’t believe that he’s done this for you – that you’re here – and while you’re not sure why, you lean into a softness, allowing yourself to enjoy it while it’s happening. 

“Did you go to culinary school?” you ask him, over your last few shared bites.

“No, what about you?” he replies quickly. 

“No, I actually majored in business,” you answer, earning a hum from him. 

“Huh…” he sounds, with a raise of both eyebrows in surprise. 

“I know…” you groan, with a playful eye roll more so directed at yourself. “My first career was in finance… account management. Then I did the whole investment thing for a while… it was uh… really sexy stuff, I know.”

“You don’t strike me as someone who would’ve been happy doing something like that,” Luca observes, only surprising you a little that he’d be able to pick up on something like that so quickly. 

“Oh no. I wasn’t. I was miserable,” you echo in agreement. You take a breath, and a beat, before explaining. “It was more of… a wish fulfillment thing, I think. For my mom. I mean, it wasn’t my dream, by any means. But having stability was important to me, to my mom…. To my partner at the time.”

“And now?”

You wait a beat before answering. 

“And now… I’m just… figuring it out as I go.”

Your eyes flicker over the ‘every second counts’ sign that hangs on the wall while Luca busses the table once again, sharing that he’s got one more dish he’d like for you to try. You settle into a quiet rhythm as you sit back and allow him to provide an experience unlike any other you’ve had. You watch him carefully as he moves around the kitchen prepping for his last dish, taking in each and every tattoo visible on his arms. 

“Every second counts,” you speak out loud, returning your attention to the sign. 

“Yeah,” he nods, turning his attention to where you’re looking. “It’s uh-, something an old head chef of mine used to say. Really stuck with me.”

You nod in agreement as he pulls out a final dessert plate. 

“‘S actually what brought me to you,” he continues, in reference to the sign. “An old friend of mine called me for a favor. He’s opening a new restaurant and wanted their patissier to come stage here for a bit.” 

Luca begins plating his final dish using a few pastry rings, a clean pair of tweezers, and berries left macerating in a deli container with a laser focus that you’d expect from a pastry chef at a two-starred Michelin restaurant.

“We got into… this whole conversation about inspiration. How to find it. Where to find it. I told him he’s gotta be open… to everything. To things out there. That that’s how you succeed in this industry – how you set yourself apart,” Luca adds, impressing you with his precision of plating while sharing something so personal. 

“It reminded me that… it’s been a while since I’ve opened myself up to… well… anything outside of this place.”

“No, yeah, I totally get it. It’s easy to get lost in it – it being the four walls of your restaurant. Running a restaurant is relentless. One minute you put your head down and the next…” you empathize with him. 

“It’s three weeks later.”

“Yeah.”

“Which leads me to why I asked you here,” Luca segways, as he finishes his final dish. “I ran into a little bit of writers’ block – or rather, chef’s block, if you will – working on our Summer menu.” 

He presents the dish towards you, earning a gasp from you as you take in the stunning creation.

“Knew I needed to get out of here for a beat. Get out of my head. Get some new perspectives.”

“Is this for your new menu?” you ask, your eyes devouring the cake-based dish first. 

“Maybe… just something I’ve been working on – something that’s been floating around in my head a while,” he shrugs, watching you carefully as he tries to search your face for any kind of reaction. 

You dig your fork into the spongey, tea-soaked, circular layered cake, raising it to your lips and immediately finding pure joy as you taste it. 

Yuzu. Earl Grey. The cake is almost like a lady finger – tiramisu-like in the way that it eats – filled with a yuzu curd in between each layer of cake, then finished with what you can only assume is a sort of black sesame dust that he’s sifted over top of the dish. 

“Woah,” is all that comes out of your mouth.

“Yeah?” Luca questions, unable to hide the smile that spreads across his lips. 

“Yeah uh… Why does this feel so familiar? It’s like… you’re reading my mind with this one,” you ask, your eyes wide savor each note. 

“Well, it should. Feel familiar, that is. It’s inspired by you,” Luca explains, treading carefully around the last few words. 

“What do you-?” you begin to ask, before the words leave you. 

You half expect him to tell you he’s joking, and you can’t tell whether or not it’s a blush running across his high cheekbones that you spot, as he turns his attention elsewhere. He begins moving around the kitchen, eager to begin cleaning up after himself to recover from the sheer vulnerability he feels from sharing this with you. 

Was this why he’d invited you here? 

“Luca,” you say, your words stopping him as he turns back to you. 

“What’s up?” he asks, so casually, as if he hadn’t just called you his muse. 

"All of this... you did all of this for me…. Why?" you muster up the courage to ask, the words falling out of your mouth with a weight you don’t expect. 

He takes a beat, afraid of coming on too strong, considering you’ve only just met, yet wanting nothing more than to tell you the truth.

Luca sighs, choosing the latter, before laying it all out on the table.

 "Your food is inspired and I don’t think I’ve had something this inspired in a long time,” he explains before pausing. “Your passion for Italian cuisine… weaving in the bits and pieces of yourself and approaching it from different culinary perspectives? You inspired me.” 

He takes another beat. 

“And as chefs, this is what we do. We feed each other." 

You’re speechless, but you can feel yourself nodding in agreement as you mumble out the most reverent ‘thank you’ that you can muster. You can feel it – that this is the beginning of, well, you're not quite sure what – but whatever it is, you're glad he walked into your restaurant however many weeks ago.

“Luca?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for sharing this with me.”

He nods, one corner of his mouth turning up into a smile. 

“Cheers.”

[soloroomies]

lifemate (Chapter 6/ Sakusa x f!reader)

summary: the night of your wedding and the month after word count. 2.5k cw. marriage pact au, fluff, suggestive a/n. if you want to be added to the taglist, please just send me ask!♡ and... i love cutie patootie kiyoomi •ᴗ• Masterlist

Your wedding has finally come to an end. The guests are saying their goodbyes to you and Kiyoomi. Most of the wedding guests are family and friends, although there are also some of your coworkers and Kiyoomi's teammates from MSBY and the national volleyball team. The only ones staying at the hotel are you, Kiyoomi, and both of your parents.

Before heading home, Komori, who also served as Kiyoomi’s groomsman, comes over to bid farewell. He raises both hands and exclaims, “You guys!” Then, he half-whispers, “I’m so happy you both decided to do this. Just go with the flow, eventually, everything will fall into place.” You furrow your brows, not quite understanding his words. “What??” you ask. But he brushes you off, “Anyway! Does this mean our meetups will be me third wheeling you both?!” You roll your eyes at this. Komori grins, “I’ll just invite my wife along!” Kiyoomi responds, “Of course, you can do that.” Komori cheers, “Woohoo!” You exchange glances with Kiyoomi and mouth to him, “I think he’s drunk.” Kiyoomi scoffs at that.

Next, Tami comes up to you both, hugging you and offering her congratulations. “You look so beautiful, I’m fucking crying, you know?!” she says. You laugh and thank her. She then turns to Kiyoomi, “Treat her right, okay?” emphasizing the word ‘treat’ while winking. You groan, “Stop, will you?!” She chuckles and hands you what seems to be a goody bag. As you observe it, you realize it’s a gift. You hug her once more. Tami adds, “Please open it and give me an honest review!” You squint your eyes at her words but then thank her again before she leaves.

After saying goodbye to a few more guests, the last ones are your bridesmaids. You thank them profusely and the four of you share a group hug before they finally leave. Now, it’s just you, Kiyoomi, and your parents.

Kiyoomi’s mother approaches you. “Take a good rest, okay? Both of you.” she smiles and squeezes Kiyoomi’s hand. Then, she turns to you and gently caresses the side of your head. “Okay?” she asks again. Kiyoomi nods. You smile reassuringly and answer, “Okay.” You look behind his mom and notice that both of your parents and Kiyoomi’s father are still sitting at the dinner table, waving their hands. You take Kiyoomi’s hand and approach them to excuse yourselves, which they nod enthusiastically. 

You and Kiyoomi will have a room together. For obvious reason. So, you head to your room together, carrying the wedding gifts you received. 

You step inside your hotel room, a spacious suite with a large living room. Your suitcases are already there. The living room is decorated with soft, warm lighting from the lamps, and rose petals are scattered around, giving it a romantic ambiance. You slip out of your heels and groan, feeling the relief in your feet. Kiyoomi follows behind you.

As you enter the room, you notice the rose petals on the bed and giggle. Kiyoomi looks at you quizzically. “What?” he asks. 

“Nothing. This is just so cute,” you reply, smiling at him.

He hesitates before saying, “You can take the room. I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

You respond quickly, “Don’t be ridiculous!” You don’t want to make him sleep on the couch. There’s no harm in sleeping together on the bed. Unless… is it a problem for him? Leaning on the door, you ask, “Omi, is there a problem? The couch is too small for you. It’s better if I’m the one who sleeps there.”

Kiyoomi looks uncomfortable. “Please don’t. It’s just…” He seems hesitant, so you wait for him to continue. “I just never share a bed with anyone.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “What? I thought you used to have sleepovers with Komori?”

Kiyoomi scratches his head, looking slightly embarrassed. “Uh, he kinda just sleeps in the other room.”

Okay. So, he really values his personal space. You sigh. “Okay, I’ll take the couch then.”

Kiyoomi shakes his head. “No. Please. I’ll take it.”

You insist, “Omi, seriously, look at that couch. It’s small. There’s no way you could sleep comfortably there!” 

The two of you argue for a few minutes until Kiyoomi finally sighs in resignation. “Okay. Let’s just sleep on the bed.”

You’re silent for a moment, not wanting to overstep his boundaries. “Omi, I don’t know. I don’t want to force you to do something you’re not comfortable with.”

Kiyoomi gently takes your hand. “No, please. Let’s just sleep on the bed.”  His touch is reassuring, and you both walk inside the room. 

After that, you start to remove your makeup and change into your pajamas—a silky short-sleeve button-up and matching shorts. You wait your turn to use the bathroom to brush your teeth, wash your face, and apply skincare. A few moments later, Kiyoomi is done. Your eyes widen when you see him shirtless, wearing only his black shorts for sleep. Damn, his body is really the embodiment of years playing volleyball. You quickly look away, not wanting him to catch you ogling. 

“Oh. You’re done,” you say, your voice cracking slightly, making you want to slap your face.

“Yeah,” he answers.

When you come out of the bathroom, you thank God to see that he has put on a shirt. Before sleeping, you suggest opening the wedding gifts together in the living room, and he agrees. Most of the wedding gifts are small and cute home decor items, like candles and picture frames. You stack the gifts on the table, then glance at Kiyoomi, who is reading a note from one of the gifts with furrowed brows. 

You take a look at the gift and are surprised to see a white piece of lacy lingerie. Quickly snatching the box from his lap, you notice the bag. Of course, it’s Tami’s gift. Kiyoomi looks at you with a confused expression. 

“Can I see the note?” you ask.

He hands you the note obediently. It reads, ‘have fun strutting your stuff in this lingerie! pls give me a review of how he reacts!! xoxo’

You cover your face, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’m sorry. She’s always like that.”

Kiyoomi just stares at you. Shit. His lack of response leaves you flustered and unsure of what to say next.

After that embarassing moment, you finish unpacking the last box and head to the bed. As you lay down and take your side of the bed, you feel a tad bit awkward, never having been in this position with him before. You glance at Kiyoomi, who is lying on his back with both hands on his stomach, staring at the ceiling. Your eyes catch the glint of the wedding ring on his finger, reminding you of a question you've been meaning to ask.

"Hey," you say softly.

He turns his head towards you. "Hm?"

"I've been wondering, when did you buy the ring?"

"Huh?" he responds, sounding slightly confused.

"The wedding ring that you gave me when we were planning this last month."

"Oh. I think around New Year's," he replies.

"Like, exactly on the 1st of January?" you ask, curious.

He hums in confirmation.

"Don’t tell me you bought it as soon as the reminder you set appeared?" you laugh incredulously.

"I did, actually," he admits.

You laugh, "You’re really something else."

"What if I’d been dating someone else?" you tease him.

"No, you weren’t," he says with certainty.

"What? Don’t be so sure! You don’t know!" you start to playfully kick him, annoyed at his confidence.

"I do know for sure. I asked Komori. That’s when I told him about our plan," he reveals.

You recall Komori inquiring about your love life when Kiyoomi wasn't around. You chuckle at his response and glance at the ring on his finger. "Can I see that?"

He notices you looking at his ring and moves closer, extending his hand to you. You compare his ring with yours, seeing how perfectly they match.

"These rings are beautiful," you say, admiring the way they catch the moonlight streaming in through the open curtains.

"You know, I kinda miss your mom. It’s been a while since we saw each other," you mention, turning your head to him and catching him already looking at you.

"I know, she always asks about you. She really likes you," Kiyoomi replies.

"And you never told me that she asks about me." You squint your eyes at him playfully.

He actually smiles, "Yeah, sorry about that."

After a bit more conversation, you both start to feel sleepy. You roll onto your respective sides of the bed, having some distance in between. Only to find both of you sleeping so close to each other in the morning. 

It’s been about a month since your marriage, and all of your belongings have been moved to Kiyoomi's apartment. You have a room for yourself, bigger than your previous one. Apart from moving out, one of the striking changes you feel is how people react to you. The news of your marriage has spread, and you can see it on social media. Not fond of being the center of attention, you made your Instagram private, avoiding unknown comments on your posts. At work, people from different divisions also try to peek into your room, whisper as you pass by, or stare at you for too long in the elevator. It’s a bit unsettling, but you know it’ll pass.

Despite the external commotion, adjusting to life with Kiyoomi has been pleasant. Living with him feels like having the best roommate you could ask for, making you sometimes forget that you're actually married to him. Every morning, you wake up around the same time. His apartment has two bathrooms, so there’s never a problem there. True to his nature, Kiyoomi is exceptionally clean and diligent in keeping the apartment tidy. While you’re not messy, you’re definitely not as meticulous as he is. His cleaning skills are a welcomed part of the chore division.

You take on most of the cooking, though not all the time. Occasionally, you both decide to order takeout. The idea of you cooking is mostly because you want healthier food consumed for both of you. You always ask about his diet plan and adjust the meals accordingly, constantly seeking his honest feedback. So far, there have been no complaints; he finishes everything on his plate.

Sundays are your designated grocery shopping day for the month. The arrangement for who pays for groceries has been completely ignored by Kiyoomi. Despite your attempts to take turns paying, he insists on covering the cost, leading to arguments at the cashier if you don't back down.

You’ve also let go of all your side jobs, giving you more free time than you’ve ever had. Kiyoomi, on the other hand, has been busy with his schedule. The volleyball season is nearing, and he’s been practicing a lot and also doing a few interviews with his team.

Tonight is Friday night, and you’re sitting in the living room, reading a novel recommended by a friend but haven’t read it until now because you used to be so hectic with work. Dinner is already prepared, and you’re feeling relaxed when you hear the apartment door open, signaling Kiyoomi's return.

"Hey," you greet him with a smile as he walks in.

"Hey," he replies hoarsely. Upon closer inspection, you notice that he looks paler than usual, his cheeks are flushed, and he seems more exhausted than ever. You immediately get up and approach him as he heads to the kitchen to wash his hands.

"Are you okay?" you ask with concern.

"I'm fine, just a bit of a cough," he replies, but you observe his forehead glistening with sweat despite the chill in the room. Instinctively, you press your hand to his cheek, making his eyes widen.

"No, you’re not. You’re burning, Omi," you say firmly.

"I can’t be sick; tomorrow is a practice match," he frowns, looking frustrated with himself.

"But you can’t be playing like this," you counter. "Let's get you more comfortable."

You guide him to the couch, feeling the heat radiating from his body. Heading back to the kitchen, you prepare some tea with honey and lemon, knowing the soothing warmth always helps when you are sick. While the kettle boils, you grab a bottle of water and bring it to him. "You need to stay hydrated," you reminded him gently, helping him take a few sips. Back in the kitchen, you scoop the food you made earlier. Luckily, you made fish soup. It will feel nice for his sore throat.

Returning with the tea and a couple of fever-reducing tablets, you instruct, "Here, drink this and take these." He complies, too tired to argue, and you watch as he slowly sips the warm liquid, the steam rising to soothe his congested sinuses. 

You sit beside him, holding his hand and gently rubbing circles on his skin with your thumb. "Please, just rest, okay? If you’re lucky, you could be healthy by Monday. But if you keep forcing yourself, this could get worse." He just stares weakly at you, saying nothing.

As the night wears on, you take him to his room. Realizing you’ve never been inside his room before, you take in the tidy, mostly plain decor with black as the dominant color and a few brown accents. Volleyball gear is organized in the corner, and his desk holds pictures of his winning moments in matches, including a photo of you, him, and Komori at your high school graduation. You smile at the memory.

You make sure the blankets are adjusted properly as he mumbles, "I need to get better," frustration clear in his voice.

"You'll get there. Just rest now. Your body needs time to heal," you reassure him.

He mumbles something you can’t quite hear, so you ask, "Hm?"

"I want to practice," he repeats. You giggle at his stubbornness, noting that he’s more talkative than usual, likely due to the fever. He continues, "I want to practice and train, paying attention and succeeding until the day I play my last game."

You realize how dedicated Kiyoomi is to his work, which explains why he is one of the best volleyball players in the country. You’ve always admired his dedication and felt proud of his progress since the day you met him. Feeling a surge of warm emotion, you take his hand and gently run your fingers through his hair.

"Omi, you’ll get better. Accidents happen no matter how well you prepare; there’ll always be something unexpected," you say softly. He stares at you weakly as you continue, "Please, just rest for now. Let me take care of you, and let’s hope the fever will subside soon."

He closes his eyes as you run your hand through his hair. Then, he squeezes your hand and says, "Okay."

"Okay," you echo, smiling at him. "I’m always so proud of you, Omi," you add, your voice filled with sincerity. You both hold hands and stare at each other for a while. Until you say, "I’ll let you sleep. I put the water here." You get up, pressing your hand one last time to his forehead to check his fever. He nods at you in acknowledgment.

In the morning after you wake up, the first thing you do is check on him. Tiptoeing into his room, you feel relieved and glad to see that his fever has started to subside, and his breathing seems more relaxed.

Taglist: @wolffmaiden @yunskook

[shinestarhwaa]

Ok I have something delicious that only you can do justice to.

You and Wooyoung are on a romantic getaway in a hotel and you spend the whole time naked and having sexy time. You decide you don't want to go out to get food, so you order in.

Woo gets dressed enough to go to get the food at the door, but then you come up behind him in just a sheet, flustering both Woo and the delivery boy.

San is the delivery boy.

You invite him in to have some...fun...with you and Wooyoung.

Interested?

Oh my God Anya you ain't ready

SERVED || WOOSAN

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Bf! Wooyoung x fem reader x deliveryboy!San

Word count: 2.8K

Warnings/tags: threesome, unprotected sex (wrap it up buttercup), oral sex, anal sex, m x m, fingering, aged down San (like 19 or 20 y/o), bi panic San, degrading, praise, rough sex, sir kink, breeding kink, taking pics&videos during sexual acts, double penetration, dirty talk, namecalling (whore), spit as lube m sorry

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @star1117-archives @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @lemonhongjoong

ENJOY!

"Gosh, you're driving me insane," Wooyoung sighed as you got off his naked, sweaty body. "I really worked up an appetite," you grinned, "sex can be a whole work out."

Wooyoung laughed and snuggled up to you, nuzzling his face in your neck. "I don't wanna go out," he sighed. You grinned and kissed his head. "Let's order some food then, champagne, pizza? Or fried chicken? Rice?"

"Hmm, get it all baby I'm hungry," he smirked. You reached out to grab your phone to call the restaurant. "Hi, this is Y/N Y/L/N from room 502, I'm calling to order food?"

"Sure, what do you want to order ma'am?"

"I'll hav-" your words got cut off by an audible gasp, caused by Jung Wooyoung diving between your legs, licking at your already abused, wet cunt.

"Are you alright ma'am?"

"Y-Yes, sorry, I uhm, I thought I saw a mouse but it was just a sock."

The person on the line and the person between your legs grinned a little, but for totally different reasons. Wooyoung lapped at your cunt, nose brushing against your clit.

"Can I have a portion of the... the fried- ah, uhm, fried chicken, t-the rice and uhm, a pepperoni pizza?"

"Anything else, ma'am?"

"Ask for extra pepperoni," Wooyoung said between sucking and licking your clit. "Woo, I don't want extra pepperoni, it's too meaty."

"Yeah, like you don't like the meat," Wooyoung scoffed, plunging his tongue in and out of your cunt.

You whined, trying to cover the phone so the man on the line wouldn't hear the vulgar sounds coming out of your mouth.

"Fine," you sighed, "could you add some extra pepperoni? And a bottle of sparkling water?"

"Sparkling water tastes like ass," Wooyoung grunted, plunging two fingers in and out of your cunt. "Y-You like ass," you spat back, making Wooyoung laugh.

"Will that be all, ma'am?"

"Yeah, great!" You sounded too happy, you knew, but you tried to hard not to moan out Wooyoung's name. Wooyoung's veiny hands covered your cunt, pumping 3 fingers in your hole.

"It'll be there in 20 minutes, ma'am."

"Great, thank you, goodnight," you said quickly, hanging up the phone as fast as you could.

"FUCK!" You moaned out when you felt Wooyoung's tongue on your clit as well. "You're a fucking menace, eating me out as I'm on the phone."

Wooyoung smirked as he flicked his tongue against your clit over and over, sending you over the edge. You came on his fingers and tongue, body shaking and spasming as he helped you through your third orgasm of the night.

Not much later you heard a knock on the door. Wooyoung got up, putting his darkblue robe on quickly and walking to the door. You covered yourself with the sheets, following him.

Your boyfriend opened the door, revealing the delivery boy, or man. "Wow," he gasped, noticing you covering your body with the silky white sheets, hair messy and make-up ruined.

"Hey ma- what?" Wooyoung said, confused. He looked behind him and widened his eyes, a blush creeping up on both his and the stranger's cheeks.

"H-hi, here's your food," San said as he handed it over to Wooyoung. "Thank you, how much do I owe you?"

Before Wooyoung could grab his wallet you stopped him. "Hi cutie," you said, scanning the guy, noticing his smile with cute dimples, the rosy blush on his cheeks and his sexybroad shoulders that did not match his shy persona.

"Uhm, hi."

"I know a way to re-pay you," you smirked. Wooyoung realized what you meant and scanned him up and down as well. "You know the money goes to the restaurant, right, Y/N?" "Well, okay, we'll give him the money but I bet you could give him a nice tip," you said, winking, "if he gives me his?"

The boy finally understood what you were implying as he saw the two of you smirk at each other. "I should-"

"Come in, yeah," Wooyoung said, taking his arm and pulling him in. Wooyoung placed the food on the table. "What's your name, cutie?" You asked, hand sliding over his arm.

The boy shivered and bit his lip. "I'm San," he said quietly. "San? That's a nice name," you smiled. "Now my sweetheart Wooyoung and I, Y/N, are very happy together but you, you could make us both even happier tonight. How does that sound?"

"I... I don't know if I should intrude-" "It's not intruding if we are inviting you, hm?" Wooyoung said, raising his eyebrow. San nodded, not able to keep his eyes off your barely covered body.

"You want me to... have sex with you? Me?" San asked in disbelief, not understanding how this was happening. "That's correct." "And you're okay with that?" San asked Wooyoung, who laughed. "What way do you swing, darling?" he asked, lifting up San's chin. "What way do I-"

San's eyes got big, breath hitching in his throat. Wooyoung smirked and let his hand glide over his chest. "Because if you only want her that's alright but... it'd be a shame to miss out on my cock in your little ass."

The delivery boy hissed as he felt Wooyoung's hand on his ass. "So you consent?" You asked. "Y-yes, please, I... I want it." "You're not a virgin are you?" "No sir," San said, shaking his head, making Wooyoung laugh. "Calling me Sir now? That's sexy, babyboy."

"Do you want that, Sir?" San asked. You weren't sure if he was being sincere or teasing Wooyoung but you knew the night would end well.

Wooyoung smirked as San removed his shoes, walking into your hotel room. He closed the door and dimmed the lights. San felt his heartbeat in his throat when both of you got closer. You let the sheets fall down on the floor, revealing your naked body to the boy.

"Gosh, you... sure are mesmerizing," San said breathlessly. Suddenly he felt Wooyoung press his clothed cock against his ass. "Undress, baby." San followed his orders, stripping until he was completely naked. Wooyoung smirked, checking out his ass. "Tiny, tight... Have you ever taken cock?" Wooyoung asked. San nodded, but his eyes were focussed on your pussy.

You had laid down on the bed with your legs spread wide open. "Wooyoungie already made me cum three times... Do you think you can help me to a four?"

The young boy nodded eagerly and looked at Wooyoung one last time before crawling onto the bed with you. The dim yellow lights made your pussy juices glisten, making San's cock harden at the sight. "Come on, I'm not gonna wait all day," you complained. Wooyoung scoffed and rolled his eyes at you. "History tells a different story."

"Shut up Wooyoung, and San, put your tongue to work. Tongue. Pussy. Now."

San nodded and moved his face closer to your heated core. He gave a few kitten licks to your clit before lapping at your pussy, licking up drizzling juices.

"O-oh my God, San!" you moaned out, grabbing a handful of his hair. "That's so good, yeah, put your tongue inside of me!"

Wooyoung smirked and stood there, arms crossed, watching you get tongue-fucked by the delivery boy. It wasn't like this was a first for you guys. Both of you liked to invite a third or fourth person from time to time. Had it been the mailman, the window cleaner or just someone from a bar.

No one was as gorgeous as San though, and no one's tongue had felt as good as San's. "Yes, right there! Fuck it, fuck my pussy with your tongue!"

San ate you out as if his life depended on it, working his tongue inside you and slurping up all the juices spilling from your needy hole. "I'm getting so close, San, gonna fucking cum, feels so good, oh God! Gonna cum!" You whined out.

It was only a matter of seconds before you felt the wave of pleasure take over you, coming on San's tongue. "Yes, yes, yes!" You gasped out loud, pulling at San's hair. The boy moaned against your pussy before pulling away, lips coated in your arousal.

"Good boy... you like giving head?" Wooyoung smirked. San turned around and saw Wooyoung loosen his robe and letting it fall to the ground, revealing his body. Wooyoung's cock was the thickest, biggest he had seen. It was gorgeous, slightly veiny and tan, slightly curved upwards. It made San nearly drool.

"Yes sir, I love giving head very much," he nodded. Wooyoung came closer to the bed, switching with San. Wooyoung sat on the edge of the bed as San got on his knees in front of him. "Please sir, may I have your cock?"

Wooyoung thought he was gonna pass out with how adorable San was being right now. He wanted to keep him forever. "You look really pretty like this San... Do you suck dick well? Are you gonna make sir feel good?"

San nodded eagerly. "Please, please I want your cock in my mouth, it's so fucking... gosh I need it, can I have it?" San begged. Wooyoung grinned. "Well you don't have to beg, sweetie, it's right in front of you."

The boy nodded and took Wooyoung's length in his mouth, your arousal still on his lips. Wooyoung swore he'd pass out, San looked gorgeous for him and he took his cock so well. "Such a good boy, suck that cock, baby," he groaned. San bobbed his head up and down his length and deepthroated, tongue flat against the bottom of his shaft.

"Yes, just like that, such a good little whore, such a good... good little whore Sanie," Wooyoung moaned out. You sat behind Wooyoung, kissing his shoulders as you roamed your hands over his chest. You took a picture of San with Wooyoung's cock down his throat, startling him. You wanted to apologize, feeling bad about not asking first, but San worked harder, clearly.

He enjoyed it.

"You like that baby, me taking pics of you with you having a fat cock in your mouth?" You smirked. San moaned around Wooyoung's dick, only trying to take more and suck better, overwhelming your boyfriend. "You like it too don't you? Having a young, pretty boy between your legs like this?" Wooyoung smirked. "Don't you too?" "Touché, babe."

You pressed your lips on Wooyoung's shortly before taking more, clearer pictures of Wooyoung's length in San's mouth. Wooyoung started to moan louder and you knew he was getting close. Wooyoung took his cock from San's mouth and started to pump it up and down quickly.

San opened his mouth, eyes pleading for Wooyoung's hot cum in his mouth. "Yeah? Do you want it? Fucking take it, little prince, take my fucking load," he groaned as he spilled his seeds on San's tongue and chin, cum dripping on his chest.

"Beautiful," you complimented him, kissing him shortly and tasting your boyfriend on the boy's lips. "Taste so good," San panted out. He was gasping for air, cock neglected and leaking onto the soft rug. Wooyoung pulled him onto the bed, laying him down with the other two of you, you in the middle.

You pressed your lips against San's as you felt Wooyoung's hands roam over your silky skin. Your lips moved against the younger boy's, hands sliding over his toned body. Your hands found his firm ass, nails digging in his skin as his tongue entered your hot mouth.

Wooyoung's tongue was warm against your neck. You felt his fingers slide between your legs, rubbing your messy core. You moaned into San's mouth, whining out shards of both boy's names.

Suddenly you felt Wooyoung's thick cock in your pussy, filling you up to the brim. You pulled away from San and moaned loudly as Wooyoung started to fuck you at a rapid pace. You noticed the phone in his hand, knowing he'd be filming this. His cock moved in and out of you so fast you swore you'd pass out. You held onto San tightly, who held you and kept kissing your lips and neck.

''O-Oh Wooyoung! San, Sanie!'' you whined out. Wooyoung grunted and kept abusing your pussy until he felt himself getting close. He then pulled out and you immediately lifted your leg, looking at San.

San wasted no time and put his cock in your pussy immediately, whining at the soft warmth. He started off slow, but moved faster gradually, shaking the bed. ''You like that, huh, fucking my wifey's pussy? Fucking a pussy that belongs to another man?''

San moaned out and held onto your hip tightly. ''Yes! Yes I love her pussy, b-best pussy!'' The two of you moaned louder as you felt him hitting your g-spot, a thing not many one-time lovers could do.

''Such a little whore, wanting her pussy and then my cock hm? Bet you want your sweet ass filled up too,'' he grunted as he slid his member inside you, together with San's. Your eyes widened as you moaned out loud.

You didn't know how to react, how to move, as you were fucked dumb by both cocks in your tight cunt. Juices started to spill out of you and you knew you were gonna cum hard ''O-oh, I'm gonna- gonna-''

''Yes, cum for us, please, cum on our cocks,'' Wooyoung moaned out, feeling your pulsating walls clench around his length. You came with a loud moan, body shuddering and shaking in San and Wooyoung's embrace. Wooyoung put the phone away, letting you know he was not filming anymore.

''O-oh that feels so good!'' San moaned out, still moving his cock quickly into your pussy. ''Don't cum, pull out,'' Wooyoung ordered as he felt San's cock pulsate against his own. San obeyed and pulled out of your wet cunt, dick incredibly hard. Wooyoung pulled out as well after riding out your orgasm. You moved away from them, knowing Wooyoung was gonna have his way with San now.

Wooyoung laid San on his back and spread his legs. San whined when Wooyoung spat on his hole and licked around the entrance. He pushed his tongue in and out while holding onto his thighs.

''Do you like that, baby? You like getting your ass eaten? Dick played with?'' you smirked as you took his dick in your hand. You licked the tip and swirled your tongue around it, teasing the younger. ''Y-yes I love it so much!'' he moaned out, grabbing onto the sheets, but they were too slippery, he had nothing to support him and so he squirmed around, making you smirk, drunk with power.

Wooyoung pulled away and smacked his dick on the younger's hole a few times before pushing it in entirely, making San moan loudly. He whined and held onto the headboard behind him. ''O-Oh sir!''

You smirked as you played with your nipples, watching Wooyoung pound his cock into the younger's hole. San moaned loudly, spreading his legs more. Wooyoung grunted and lifted San's legs over his shoulders, giving him perfect access to his tight hole.

''You're so fucking tight, I bet you have never been fucked the right way. You'll take my fucking dick, understood?''

''Y-Yes! Give it to me! Give it all to me, want your cock!'' San screamed. Wooyoung fucked him so roughly you were worried he'd split the boy into two, but seemingly San was enjoying it to the fullest. ''Such a greedy fucking boy,'' Wooyoung moaned.

''Sir, please, please please!'' he cried out, pumping his own cock. Wooyoung wasn't having it though, slapping his hand away from his length. ''You're not gonna cum because of a pathetic hand job, stupid jerk off, okay? You're gonna cum because you got my cock in your ass, am I understood? Fucking whore.''

''Yes, sir! Please, make me cum on your delicious cock, use me, I'm your fucking whore, yours, yours!'' he moaned, tears spilling from his eyes. You placed kisses in his neck as his breathing picked up, noticing he was getting close to orgasming.

''You fucking like that huh? Gosh, such a dirty boy, go ahead then, cum for me, make a stupid fucking mess,'' Wooyoung moaned as he thrusted his hips faster.

San's moans got louder until he burst, cock spilling all his seeds on his abdomen, tears over his cheeks. You were quick to lick up all of his cum, moaning at the taste.

''I'm gonna fucking cum in your ass, baby, gonna fucking breed your little ass,'' Wooyoung moaned out. His brows furrowed, trying to reach his orgasm.

''Y-yes! Give it to me! Pump me full of your seeds please, breed me! Breed me!'' San panted out. Wooyoung rutted into San faster than ever before. It took one, two, three thrusts before Wooyoung orgasmed, filling him up to the brim.

He rode out their orgasms and pulled out of San's hole. ''Statisfied, aren't ya now baby?'' Wooyoung smirked. San could barely breathe or speak, but he nodded happily.

''We should get you more often, you're a cutie. You didn't just bring food, you served ass,'' you grinned.

''I always serve,'' San panted out, grinning.

[colettebronte]

Presumptuous: Chapter 3

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Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: You encounter Anthony at brunch and strike a deal. He also gives you a preview of what’s (who’s) to come

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: 18+ for a lil bit of smut towards the end. Warnings for vaginal fingering, and semi-public sex and voyeurism if you squint. Minors DNI. I will put this up on Ao3 so please do not repost my work elsewhere

Author’s note: Woooo third chapter here we go! Once again a HUGE thank you to @fayes-fics for her beta skills and encouragement

Chapter 3: Bargain Over Brunch

You awaken the next morning after a fitful night of sleep, your mind going over and over your interactions with Anthony the day before.

Checking the time, you see you’ve completely missed breakfast but according to the literature beside your bed, there is one dining room set up to serve brunch.

It’s while you’re getting dressed and ready for the day that you replay the moment Anthony ultimately rejected you, despite the obvious spark. Those sharp, dark eyes of his must have been assessing your ability to pay for his services. You feel insulted that he assumed you couldn’t afford him. Even if he might have been right.

Tossing your room card into your purse, you head out to find the dining room. Thankfully the resort has signs posted everywhere and you find it in no time.

The room is large with ample tables and chairs scattered all about the room. A light breeze blows in from the open air windows, a brunch buffet set up on a far wall with carafes of what you hope contain coffee on a sideboard. The room is mostly empty, with just one other guest sitting at a table near the buffet, their top half obscured by the newspaper they’re reading.

You head to the buffet and start filling a plate. Next you fill a large mug with coffee from one of the carafes. You’re about to turn and choose a table when a particularly delicious-looking donut catches your eye. You look down at your full hands before briefly turning your head to the other guest. They are still ensconced in their paper, so you bend down and grab the donut with your mouth, securing a corner with your teeth.

It’s only when you turn back around to see that the other guest has now put down their paper and is watching you, amusement on their face, that it just so happens to be Anthony.

Great.

You decide to ignore him and choose a seat two tables away. You quickly set down your coffee and plate, primly removing the donut from your mouth and placing it on top of your already piled-high plate. You watch in horror as the donut rolls off the top of Mount Brunch and falls off the table and continues its trajectory until it stops with a crispy thunk against one of Anthony’s brown loafers, resting ankles-crossed on the floor. You both stare at the donut for a long moment. 

Anthony then leans down and picks it up with a napkin, placing it on the table next to his newspaper. Clearing his throat he asks, “Would you like me to get you another one?”

You resist the urge to drop your head down on the table. “Yes please, thank you.”

Anthony goes and selects a new one and brings it as well as his own plate over to your table and sits down, his newspaper and your floor donut seemingly forgotten at his previous table.

Taking the donut from him, you nod in thanks and say “I don’t recall inviting you to join me.”

He is all smug amusement as he replies, “You didn’t have to. I accept all the same”

You pick up a fork and mutter, “Presumptuous,” under your breath as you dig into your eggs. Anthony shakes his head and smiles as he picks up an orange and begins to peel it.

You sit together and eat in companionable silence for a while. You try to sneak glances at him but every time you look over, he’s watching you.

*************

You’ve just returned to the table, having refilled both your coffee mugs. You add an unhealthy amount of cream to yours while he starts sipping his, still black. You wait until he sets his mug down to brooch the subject you’ve spent the meal psyching yourself up to.

Despite the fact that you’re the only people in the dining room, you lean towards him to ask quietly, “If I wanted the pleasure of your company, how much would it cost me?”

Anthony raises an eyebrow but says nothing so you plod on, before you lose your nerve.

“I talked to the hostess at the restaurant last night, Bess. She told me about you being an Escort. And then I watched you go off with your client last night and so I wondered how much you charge for a night or . . .” You trail off as Anthony leans in, leaving your faces mere inches apart, the scent of cool water and lilacs once again filling your senses.

“I hadn’t realized Bess was working last night,” he murmurs. Anthony doesn’t seem angry, only thoughtful, which you take as a good sign. He says nothing for a moment, silently watching you. Assessing you again, you realize. 

“If you’re thinking I can’t afford it, you’re wrong. I can,” you know your indignant tone is bordering on petulant, but you can’t help it. You jut out your chin for good measure.

Anthony looks you up and down for another long moment before resting folded hands on the table. “Very well,” he starts and then names a price.

You do your best to hide your shock. It’s certainly affordable. He’s still watching as you take a deep breath and decide to be bold on this, your once-in-a-lifetime vacation.

“Including tonight, I’m here for five more nights. If I wanted to have your companionship for the rest of my stay, how much would that be?”

Anthony leans back, an unreadable look on his handsome face. He gives another price, which is also doable for you. 

You narrow your eyes at him and despite yourself ask, “Are you cutting me some kind of deal? Because I assure you, I can pay full price.”

Anthony huffs out a laugh. “I assure you, I’m not offering you cut-rate services. These are my prices, although I admit, I don’t usually spend more than one night with a client. But in this case, I’m willing to make an exception.”

You nod. “So how does this work?”

Anthony sits up, the easy smile vanishing from his face, all business now. “I have some ground rules, all of which are non-negotiable. First, it’s nights only, our days are our own. We may go to bed together, but do not expect me to be there when you wake up in the morning.”

“Okay,” you exhale. “What else?”

“Second, I will need a way to contact you before we engage in our activities for the night. Anything we do together intimately must be laid out and thoroughly discussed beforehand.”

You nod. The man is a planner, you like it.

He continues, “Third, we use protection at all times. I will provide it.”

“If you hadn’t said it, I would have,” you assure him and he nods.

“And finally, the matter of payment . . . .”

“Half now, half later?” you posit, interrupting him.

Anthony shakes his head. “I accept Venmo only. I will provide you with the number on our final evening together. I want no payment until then,” he must see you about to protest and then adds, “It’s my incentive to provide you with excellent service.”

 You sit back and consider his terms. They are all sensible. The only baffling part is him not wanting any payment until the end, but who are you to question his business practices?

You hold your hand out to him. “Anthony No Last Name, I accept your terms.”

He leans in again and takes your hand, his own fingers warm around yours. “That is excellent to hear, Y/n No Last Name.”

He starts to run his fingers along your arm. He glances around the room, before leaning closer still, his legs pressing against yours. “How about a sneak preview?” His voice, a quiet rumble, goes straight to your core.

“Yes please,” you whisper.

And then he’s dragging your chair closer still. He leans into your neck and inhales, running his nose up the line of your throat, drawing a moan from you.

As Anthony begins to kiss your neck, you feel warm fingers lift the hem of your sundress, while more fingers slide up your leg and then dip in between. 

He breathes out in surprise and then whispers silkily in your ear, “No panties, really? Naughty girl.”

You gently bite his earlobe. “I’m still waiting for my luggage to arrive. A girl’s gotta do her best in a sticky situation. And speaking of sticky situations, get on with it.”

His breath is warm against your cheek. Anthony dips his fingers into your folds, and you draw back, gripping his shoulders for support. He finds your clit a moment later and you almost feel bad for the ten half moon-shaped imprints you’re surely leaving on his skin, through his shirt.

He rests his head against the side of your neck, continuing to inhale deeply as his fingers swirl around your clit. You squeeze around his fingers, increasing the sensation, as he quickens his pace.

You lean forward, bringing your mouth to his neck, trying your best not to suck too big a bruise into his sun-kissed skin.

Anthony adds more fingers and then you’re rocking in your chair, his legs firmly locked around you the only thing keeping you from falling backward, surely.

And then before you know it, you’re tumbling over the edge, your orgasm washing over you, bright and intense. You lean into his shoulder, your scream muffled by the fine knit cotton of his shirt.

***********

You’re making your way back to your room to shower when someone calls your name across the lobby. You turn to see Michaela striding towards you. She’s wheeling your luggage behind her, looking slightly flustered. 

“This arrived a little while ago. I was about to call you and have it sent up.”

You smile at her. “Thank you so much. I was having brunch but I’m on my way back to my room so I’ll take it now and save the staff a trip.”

Michaela hands you your luggage and says quietly, “Yes I saw you were having brunch in the East Dining Room.”

You look up sharply, suddenly nervous. “You . . . saw . . . us?”

Michaela sighs quietly. “Yes. There are security cameras in all the public areas of the resort.”

You wince. Well . . . shit.

“The thing is,” Michaela continues, “I believe the camera must have shorted out for a bit. There seems to be twenty minutes worth of footage missing.”

You open your eyes. “Missing?”

Michaela nods. “Yes indeed. Completely gone. As if it never existed. It happens sometimes. Footage just gets . . . erased.” She’s looking at you with a meaningful stare.

You pull her into a hug and then pull back quickly, remembering what she must have seen you and Anthony doing together. 

“Forget my first born, you can also have the second, fourth and fifth as well.”

Michaela raises an eyebrow. “Not the third?”

You shrug, “I have to keep one of them, don’t I?”

Michaela laughs. “Just please remember about the cameras and try to confine your intimate activities to private spaces. Resort Security will notice if I delete too much footage.”

You offer her a salute as you head for the elevators, your luggage finally with you. Your plan for the afternoon now including a nap in addition to your shower. If this morning was just a preview of Anthony’s skills, you’re going to need the rest.

taglist: @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @faye-tale @cosmiclove330 @abridgerton @fiction-is-life @kmc1989 @alexandrainlove @ietss @itsyagirlmeee @multi-fandom-lover7667 @turtle-cant-communicate @queenofmean14 @syraxnyra @chelseyyouraverageluigi

[katareyoudrilling]

The Sweepstakes: Dave York Epilogue (Porn Star AU)

Series: The Sweepstakes

Pairing: Porn Star Dave York x Female Reader

Summary: You learned a lot about yourself during your night with Dave York.  What’s next?

Word count: ~1.5k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: kink club, bondage demonstration, a touch of voyeurism I guess

A/N: Thank you for all your support of porn star Dave York.  He really is something special.  I hope you like what I’ve imagined here!  This follows The Sweepstakes: Dave York so read that first!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

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You smooth down your dress with damp palms as you approach the building front of you.  A simple sign hangs over the entrance.  You’d never have looked twice at this place if you hadn’t been told to come here.  You’ve never been to a kink club before.

Dave had brought it up as you lounged on the bed in the filming room, sharing some snacks he had found in the kitchen, while you recovered from your latest round.

You learned a lot from Dave that night.  He talked you through several scenarios before giving some of them a try.

When he mentioned the member-only club, he explained how important it is to be with a partner who knows what they’re doing when it comes to kink and how the club could be a place to meet similarly minded people.  He told you that he would be here tonight in his regular booth.

He said he would add you to the guest list.

You push open the door and find yourself in a small vestibule facing a friendly woman at a hostess stand.

“Hi, I’m.. uhh.. I should be on the guest list.”

She finds your name and opens the door behind her.

You thank her and step into the room.  It doesn’t look much different than other clubs.  The bar sits along the back wall, back-lit liquor bottles rising above it on shelves up to the ceiling.  Tables fill the middle of the room, with U-shaped booths lining the walls.  The moody lighting and low thumping music add to the standard bar aesthetic.

There’s a stage at the other end of the room, where you might expect to see a band set-up to play.  Instead, you watch as two women step onto it to a smattering of applause.  One is dressed in tall boots, a tiny skirt, and a bustier top, the other is in a silk robe.  Once on stage, she lets the robe fall to the ground revealing only a thong underneath.

Many of the patrons adjust in their seats to give the women their attention.  No one jeers or makes lewd comments.  They are respectful, almost reverent.  You watch with bated breath as the nearly naked woman lifts her arms over her head for the other to secure her wrists to a chain hanging from the ceiling.

Adrenaline surges through your body at the sight of such sexual freedom.  You’ve never seen anything like this.

You have to drag your eyes away from what’s happening on the stage to look for Dave.

You spot him across the room in a booth, right where he said he would be, wearing his signature all black outfit.  This time it’s a black button down with the cuffs rolled up to reveal his chiseled forearms.  Gorgeous. He sips a glass of caramel colored liquor as he watches the stage intently.  His dark, piercing gaze taking in every detail of what’s happening.

You make your way over, summoning all the courage you have, to interrupt his focus. Even though you spent an incredible night together, he is still intimidating.

He must sense your approach though and turns to you before you can say his name, a genuine smile lighting up his face.

“You came!”

“Thanks for inviting me.”  You offer a shaky smile in return.

“Here.  Sit. You’re just in time for the demonstration.”  He makes room for you next to him in the booth and waves down a server to take your drink order.

Your gaze travels back to the stage, now conveniently in front of you.  The nearly naked woman sways from the chain from the ceiling.  Her feet touch the ground, but she doesn’t seem to want to use her legs to hold herself up.  Her dark hair falls in waves around her shoulders and breasts as her head lolls to one side.

The other woman has a length of red rope that she has wrapped and tied around the other woman’s waist.  You watch, entranced, as she knots the rope and wraps it around her body forming intricate patterns.

“Have you ever seen shibari before?” Dave interrupts your focused observation.

You clear your throat and find your voice.  “The word sounds a little familiar, but no, I haven’t.”

“It’s mesmerizing, isn’t it?  See how she allows herself to be moved and tied? She can just trust and relax into it, like she’s in a trance,” he murmurs into your ear, and you allow yourself to imagine what it would feel like to be the woman up on that stage.  You think you’d like it.

“Who are they?”

“The one tying is Nina.  She teaches shibari workshops here, among other things.  The other is Carol, my wife.”

You turn to him in surprise.  “You’re married?”

He smiles and nods.  “We have an open relationship.  With my job, that comes with the territory.  But also, outside of that, we can date other people, just not get emotionally involved.  She is my person.”  Dave watches his wife on stage again and you can see it in his eyes—the love he has for her.  It makes you feel warm inside.

So many possibilities have opened to you now that you’re learning where you look for them.  There are partners willing to experiment with you.  There are people in the types of relationships you’ve only dared to imagine in your most private thoughts.

The ropes cross Carol’s torso now, framing her breasts, digging into the soft flesh at her sides.  They circle her ass and thighs, wrapping down around her legs in intricate twists and loops.  You notice how her nipples pebble when the other woman whispers in her ear and moves her with the ropes.  Your own nipples seem to be responding the same way and wetness grows between your legs.

You take a deep gulp of your drink to cool down.

“It’s turning you on, watching them.” Dave leans close to you to speak quietly in your ear, one arm stretched behind you on the back of the booth, breath ghosting across your cheek.  “That’s good.  It’s supposed to.”

His deep voice in your ear takes you right back to the night you spent with him, and your body responds accordingly.  Your breath hitches as Dave drags his fingers up your bare arm, goosebumps rising in their wake.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs.  “I would play with you again anytime, you know, but I think there are others here who would like to too, and it would be selfish of me to keep you all to myself.”

You look at Dave in surprise, shivers running down your spine at his words.  He nods towards the tables in the middle of the room.  You follow his gaze to find a handsome man looking right at you.  He raises his glass and winks.

“He’s a good guy.  I think you’d like him.”

Applause erupts from the crowd as the women on stage finish their demonstration. Nina spins Carol around showing off all her handiwork before taking a quick bow and releasing Carol’s wrists.  You take a moment to gather yourself as you clap along.  Dave pulls back from you slightly to give an appreciative whistle.

He turns back to you and holds your gaze.  “If you are ok here, I’m going to go take my wife to a private room and let him,” he cocks his head towards the tables, “come over and talk to you.  Is that ok with you?”

You nod.  Your heart flutters with excitement and possibility.  This place could be exactly what you need, and you think you’re ready to find out.

“Words, remember?”

“Yes. That’s ok.”  Your words come out confidently despite your fizzing nerves and Dave smiles.

“Everyone knows me here, so if you need me, just ask.” Dave places a kiss on your cheek before making his way out of the booth.  “Have fun, beautiful.”

You take another bracing drink and watch Dave make his way over to Carol, passing by the man at the table and patting him on the shoulder as he goes.

Carol’s arms have been let down, but her body is still tied up.  Dave pulls her to him by the knot at her sternum.  You know he’s speaking to her in that deep, gravelly voice, telling her exactly what he wants to do to her.  It’s so fucking hot.  You watch as they make their way off the stage and down a hallway to the side you hadn’t noticed before.

As they disappear from view, a man clears his throat at your side.

“Can I join you?” he gestures to the seat across from you.  It’s the man Dave had pointed out to you.

You nod, but then remember Dave’s instruction to use words.  “Uhh… sure.. yes,” you stammer.

He takes his seat and smiles at you.  You’re immediately taken in by the crinkles that form at the corners of his warm, brown eyes.  You feel yourself relax and return his smile.

“Is it your first time here? I don’t think I’ve seen you around. I’m….”

- - - - - - - - - - 

A/N: Who do you want it to be???  I considered many options but couldn’t decide.  So, I’ve left it up to you! Don’t be mad lol

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[joekeeryswife]

pedro pascal is so daddy like… i genuinely dont know why this man doesnt have kids yet but I VOLUNTEER 🙋‍♀️

anywayss, i cant help but think about the domesticity of being married and expecting with pedro like we all know that man is old and is already daddy status but just imagining him coming home to you and your swollen belly after a day running around the city… to kiss on you and hold you like!!! you cant tell me that wouldn’t be the cutest shit ever

then you got the early mornings and late nights of him and you talking, watching movies together, laying on the couch in your spacious new york apartment, looking over on the city!!! and i just know no matter what, that man would just adore you. would always want to have you around, inviting you to come out with him while he’s working, always wanting to take you on dates, and events. i mean just utterly infatuated with you (especially if youre having his baby!?! like that man wouldnt know what to do with himself)

he would just take the best care of you… when he wakes up making sure your vitamins are all set up for you to take (so cant say you forgot!) and maybe writing little love notes incase you arent awake to bid him away for the few hours he’ll be gone. and he’d shoot you just random texts and pictures whether that be on set, in a meeting, driving/walking around, anything to let you know that youre on his mind… and when he comes home, oh lord. i wholeheartedly believe, after an extremely long day, he’d always come home with a little treat for you…

you’d be in the kitchen, getting dinner ready for the night, anticipating his arrival, as you hear the door open, and a loud and cheesy, “honey, im home!” to which he walks into your shared kitchen with a small little bag, holding a pastry he picked up for you on his way home just because he knows how much you love that bakery. you’d welcome him into your warm embrace and as you continue cooking for the two of you, nothing would make more sense than for him to rub that belly of yours…whispering all the praise you’d been aching to hear. telling you how beautiful you look, how strong you are, how grateful he is to have you, to hold you… and then ofcourse you’d enjoy the dinner you had made for the two of you. ending the night with the pastry pedro had picked up for you and a glass of wine for him…

ahhh! i totally rambled so much but i love pedro like UGH

Baby- p.p

hello loves! when i tell you i screamed when i saw this i’m not even lying. i tried my best with this one and if i’m being honest i don’t think i like it at all😭! first pedro pascal imagine (btw dad! imagines are my fave to write) dms are always open if you wanna chat loves! i’m like nervous to post this idk why. anyways enjoy 🤍 ⚠️age gap couple!⚠️

taglist (add yourselves loves🤍)(if there is a line through your name i cannot tag you for some reason x) @1-john-4-19

"baby, im home" you heard Pedro voice echo through your New York apartment. you had moved in with Pedro two years ago after a year of dating and now you were pregnant with your first child together. you were in the kitchen making a sandwich which you had been craving for the past thirty minutes but you were too tired to even get up off the sofa to make it.

you were 7 months pregnant and even walking made you out of breath, it was like the baby was purposely kicking your rib cage just to make you more uncomfortable than you already were. you heard his footsteps walking toward the kitchen and smiled at him when he finally appeared.

he had been out in New York with Bella, doing random interviews which obviously didn't take long so they also went for lunch then here he was back home with you. he walked up to you and opened his arms wide for you to hug him. his left hand fell so he could gently place it on your stomach hoping that the baby would kick for him, which it almost always did.

a huge smile formed on his face when he held the strong kicks coming from the baby. he placed little kisses on your head as you cuddled yourself more into him. "how was your day sweetheart?" you snuggled into him further and sighed in contentment. "boring, couldn't move for ages because i was so tired. i was gonna start packing the hospital bag and do laundry but i couldn't get off the sofa"

"don't worry about the laundry baby, i'll do it later" he kissed your forehead again and tried to hold you as close as possible. "wanna go watch tv? i'll even let you pick" he said making you smile up at him. with a small nod of your head he lent in to kiss you for the first time that day he let go of you. you picked up the sandwich which had been forgotten on the kitchen counter and waddled your way back to the sofa.

after a few minutes of you scrolling through the different channels you felt the sofa dip beside you and Pedro's arm go around your shoulders pulling you carefully into his side. you felt his hand stroking your arms softly as you finally picked "Bridgerton" and finally let yourself relax in Pedro's hold, feeling the small pecks on your head throughout the show.

-

"what do you think the baby is?" you asked as the comforting silence between the two of you filled the bedroom, the only thing that could be heard was the tv which you both weren't paying attention too. you had decided to keep the gender a secret until he/she was born and now you were growing closer and closer to them being here the nerves were growing and so was your curiosity.

Pedro looked down at you and smiled softly, he had thought about the baby every day and what it was going to look like, what the gender was, what it's first word would be, all the normal things a parent thought about. "i don't know but i hope it's a girl and i hope she looks exactly like you because you're beautiful" you smiled brightly and felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment.

"what if it's a boy?" you questioned, feeling Pedro's hand on your bump and the strong kicks coming from your baby who was still wide awake at this late hour for some reason. "then it's a boy, i'm still gonna love them whatever they are. but i do really hope that it's a girl. she'd be so cute. also all the names we have picked out are for girls so" you laughed, it was true, every single name you had were all girl names.

comfortable silence filled the room again and Pedro let his eyes fall onto the bed covers where your bump was. he just couldn't believe his baby was in there, growing beautifully. it was just the most perfect thing. "you are the most beautiful person i've ever seen." you looked up at him and saw him staring right at you, his eyes filled with adoration. your heart swelled as you listened to him.

"stop it" you said, turning your head so you could hide your blush which covered your cheeks. "i'm not kidding, you are so perfect. i love you" he said moving his head so he could place a few kisses on your cheek making you giggle as his beard tickled you. "can you come out with me tomorrow? want you to be at work with me. don't want you to be stuck in here all day by yourself" he let his head rest in your neck with his body just off to the side with his hand resting on your bump, again.

"i'll see how i am, they might keep me up all night and you know how i am when i'm tired" you kissed his head and felt kisses being placed on your neck. before you got pregnant you and tired just didn't mix well and it got even worse ever since you did get pregnant. you didn't mean to be mean but if you were tired you'd become snappy and annoyed very easily.

"god don't remind me" Pedro joked remembering how you snapped at him yesterday because he was just there, he didn't do anything wrong you were just tired and annoyed because the baby didn't let you sleep. "even though you snap at me i still love you so much. my favourite girl" he said, pulling his head out of your neck so he could kiss you. "yeah okay, i love you too" you said smiling at him.

-

Pedro got up before you every single morning just so he knew you'd have your vitamins ready for when you did wake up. it was rare for him to be there when you woke up unless it was a quiet day and he didn't have to work until the afternoon which was when you'd usually go to work with him. it put his mind at ease when he knew you had all your parental vitamins next to you so you wouldn't forget to take them.

he would leave little love notes next to them just letting you know he loved you and that he was proud of you, even if you didn't do anything but sit around all day he was still proud, you were carrying a whole child inside of you and you were coping so well. if it took the stress of you remembering every morning and it made your life a little bit easier he would do it.

as well as love notes he'd send you messages throughout the day just checking in to see if you were alright and if you needed anything. he always made sure he wasn't too far away from the apartment just incase something did happen. today in particular you were in a lot of pain, your back was killing you and so was your legs, just walking around was hurting you.

you had decided to start packing the baby bag just in case something happened you'd be prepared. the baby was kicking constantly and you'd gotten hardly any sleep that night because of the kicking and you just wanted them to be here so you could have a somewhat decent sleep. Pedro always woke up if you shook him, he was the one who could sort of calm the baby down with his talking but sometimes nothing worked.

he would always help you get comfortable before he would rest his head just above your bump so he could whisper to the baby. "need to stop giving your mama a hard time, she needs sleep baby" he would leave little kisses on your bump which made his heart swell with love just because he knew his baby was in there 'responding' to him. "we love you angel but give your mama a break"

it wasn't very often he had to do that but the nights you'd be overly tired from the baby kicking you he would do anything to make you as comfortable as possible. carrying the baby was hard, it felt like you were lugging around a watermelon and it was sometimes so painful you couldn’t even get up to brush your hair. Pedro saw how difficult it was for you when he was home and when he wasn’t there he’d always send you texts saying ‘he was so proud of you’ and that ‘you were doing so well’, the messages, somehow, always made you feel better.

-

it was late and Pedro was on his way home from filming. you were making dinner for the two of you and you were waiting for him to finally come home after a long day doing interviews. you had been craving your favourite pastry from the bakery which wasn’t too far away from your apartment all day. you had tried to get yourself ready but your feet were killing you and so was your back so getting there didn’t happen.

"y/n? i'm home love" you heard Pedro shout and then the door closing behind him. you turned to face the kitchen door and your heart melted once you saw the small bag with the bakery's logo on it. "i got this for you on the way home. i got there just in time, they were about to close" he said as he walked to you.

once he got to you, you wrapped your arms around his waist and placed a small kiss on his chest "how did you know i was craving something from there" you smiled, feeling his arms around you tighten slightly. "i guess i'm a psychic. i had a feeling" he kissed your forehead and rubbed your back before you pulled away, almost forgetting that you were cooking.

"how was today?" you said, your back facing Pedro as you focused on the food. "it was alright, wanted to be here with you though" he replied wrapping his arms around you from behind, making you smile and lean your head back against his shoulder.

"you look so beautiful, so so pretty" he whispered, kissing your cheek which was now a bright red shade. his hand was on your belly, rubbing it gently as your baby kicked. "you're so strong, carrying our baby. you're doing so well sweetheart. so perfect. i'm so lucky to have you" anytime Pedro saw you his heart swelled with love, you were carrying his baby and you looked so beautiful doing so. he couldn't wait for these last two months to pass because it meant he could finally meet your beautiful baby and he was so excited.

"you look so beautiful, so so pretty" he whispered, kissing your cheek which was now a bright red shade. his hand was on your belly, rubbing it gently as your baby kicked. "you're so strong, carrying our baby. you're doing so well sweetheart. so perfect. i'm so lucky to have you" anytime Pedro saw you his heart swelled with love, you were carrying his baby and you looked so beautiful doing so. he couldn't wait for these last two months to pass because it meant he could finally meet your beautiful baby and he was so excited.

"you look so beautiful, so so pretty" he whispered, kissing your cheek which was now a bright red shade. his hand was on your belly, rubbing it gently as your baby kicked. "you're so strong, carrying our baby. you're doing so well sweetheart. so perfect. i'm so lucky to have you" anytime Pedro saw you his heart swelled with love, you were carrying his baby and you looked so beautiful doing so. he couldn't wait for these last two months to pass because it meant he could finally meet your beautiful baby and he was so excited.

“y/n? i’m home love” you heard Pedro shout and then the door closing behind him. you turned to face the kitchen door and your heart melted once you saw the small bag with the bakery’s logo on it. “i got this for you on the way home. i got there just in time, they were about to close” he said as he walked to you.

once he got to you, you wrapped your arms around his waist and placed a small kiss on his chest “how did you know i was craving something from there” you smiled, feeling his arms around you tighten slightly. “i guess i’m a psychic. i had a feeling” he kissed your forehead and rubbed your back before you pulled away, almost forgetting that you were cooking.

“how was today?” you said, your back facing Pedro as you focused on the food. “it was alright, wanted to be here with you though” he replied wrapping his arms around you from behind, making you smile and lean your head back against his shoulder.

“you look so beautiful, so so pretty” he whispered, kissing your cheek which was now a bright red shade. his hand was on your belly, rubbing it gently as your baby kicked. “you’re so strong, carrying our baby. you’re doing so well sweetheart. so perfect. i’m so lucky to have you” anytime Pedro saw you his heart swelled with love, you were carrying his baby and you looked so beautiful doing so. he couldn’t wait for these last two months to pass because it meant he could finally meet your beautiful baby and he was so excited.

[kumabeom]

crazy stupid love

tyunnie angst :(((, one sided love :((

“so you don’t actually love me.. you love her.”

taehyun’s lips quivered, nodding. he was planning this since the beginning and he knew he was eventually going to have to do this, so why was he so- sad ?

“who told you ?”

“who told me ? that’s what you’re worried about, you’re not the slightest bit concerned over the fact that i just found out that you’ve been using me this entire time, kang taehyun ?”

his eyes wandered, the way that you’re both standing outside your home. the two of you basking in the moonlight. your eyes glowing in the dark, streetlights making it look like there were literal stars in your eyes. but taehyun didn’t want to look at your eyes.. they were filled to the brim with tears, it was visible even in the dark. he had never felt so ashamed, he never had anything to feel so ashamed of. he had moments of embarrassment but he never regretted something as much as he did right now.

“yn..”

“you still have more to add on ? what else can you say ? it’s no wonder, beomgyu was telling me to be so cautious, and instead of taking his advice, i only fell harder for you.”

“i’m so sorry..”

“you don’t have to say sorry, taehyun, i just hope you’re much happier with her..” you spoke, words falling out of your mouth smoothly as if your heart wasn’t being shattered into millions of pieces. taehyun watched as you walked away, biting his lower lip as he also attempted to hold back any tears that were threatening to spill. he still looked on, making sure you made it inside.

you were greeted with the smell of cookies, which you would usually run towards, because who wouldn’t ? but you dismissed the sweet aroma. hearing your mother, “how was todays date ?”

“i-it was good.” you lied, putting on a fake smile as you entered the living room, seeing your mother sitting as she watched the news. you took a seat next to her, inevitably placing your head down on her lap as she combed her fingers through your hair.

“you didn’t want any cookies, i thought you were going to invite taehyun to sleepover so i made a few more too, you two always have a sleepover after dates, so i just sorta assumed.”

you felt as a singular tear fell out, rolling down your cheek, thanking the fact that you were facing the tv so your mother couldn’t see you.

taehyun walked home, it had been so long since he had gone home after a date night, in fact he doesn’t think he’s ever walked home after a date night, he usually stayed with you, cuddles in bed and everything. taehyun loved someone else, so why was he crying at the fact that he just lost you, everything he did was for someone else. so why ? why is he crying ?? he opened his front door, seeing all the lights off, which wasn’t great as his vision was already being blurred with his tears.

“tyun !! you’re home ? that’s a surprise- oh, why are you crying ?” taehyun’s mother turned on the lights, seeing her son crying in front of the door, his tears automatically breaking her heart, as she embraced him.

“i broke up with them..”

“huh ? but i thought things were perfect between the two of you.” taehyun couldn’t help but bite his tongue back, if his mother knew what he had done, he knew he’d definitely get the scolding of his life.

“i just- fell out of love..”

“taehyun, but if you feel so sad over it, don’t you think you’re still in love. you’re not someone who easily cries.. especially over people. you took your time to plan dates that they loved, and i don’t know how it all went down on yn’s side of things, but you would always come home looking so happy after a date night.” his mother caressed her son’s hair as he cried into her shoulder, no different than your scenario, except you had decided to hide the fact that you had just gotten broken up with, all over another person. worst part of it all was that it wasn’t just another person.. it was for your best friend

©️soobpricity

permanent taglist : @run2seob @soobadooba (send asks !!)

an: this was written before anti romantic and it was also gonna be an smau… but the writing process was a huge huge huge mess !! so i will be posting this as a one shot, maybe i’ll make a second part, but this is it rn.. it’s really short but it was just going to be a prologue

[unifox]

Sunset lover

~Pairing: gn!Reader x Mingyu

~Genre: fluff / angst / NonIdolAU

~Warnings: Mentions of food, beach, jealousy, feelings and confusion, overthinking (don't even know what should and shouldn't be a warning at this point)

~Words: 2,5 k 

~Summary: When your cousin decides to ruin family bonding time by bringing two friends to your shared beach house, you unexpectedly find a lover in his childhood friend

a/n: SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG. It's finally here!!! Wonwoo just became a background character who almost doesn't appear but yeah.

Also, regarding the boy's ages: Cheol, Mingyu and Wonwoo are the same age (one year younger than reader) and cousins May and Rina are like 4 and 7 years younger than reader, respectively.

Inpired by the songs Sunset Lover - Petit Biscuit, Fuck It- BoTalks and Bends - Carly Rae Jepsen

Taglist + anon list open! ~Foxy🦊

Read the intro! | Navigation | Masterlist

When the four of you reached the food trucks, the place was full. You all walked around trying to see what kind of food there was but ended up settling for hamburgers. Rina said she wanted a regular cheeseburger and stepped out of the line to look for an empty table.

You and your cousin May fell into a comfortable conversation, talking about whatever while Mingyu stood behind you two, just listening.

Every once in a while May would sneak glances at Mingyu who attentively listened to you talk. After ordering, May decided to stay with her sister and keep her company, leaving the two of you to wait at the pickup area.

"So... Mingyu, how's life abroad? Making many new friends? Are you living alone?" You bombarded the boy with questions. It's been around three years since you last saw each other and it was a pleasant surprise to see the skinny tall boy coming home all grown up, strong, mature... and really handsome

"It's been pretty good! I live with a roommate, his name is Jeonghan. He taught me a lot haha... My classes are also fine but I'm still trying to get used to using another language whenever I leave the house" He says proudly

"Got a girlfriend?" You thread carefully

But the man smirks

"No, I only got eyes for you"

You roll your eyes smiling. He's flirty now too

"As if" you both giggle together when you get called by the staff of the food truck

After eating Mingyu excuses himself and heads to the toilet. When he's out of earshot, both your cousins turn to you and smirk.

"He's totally crushing you"

"YES. He's totally like a puppy looking at its owner... Maybe you should own him..."

You choke on your drink, almost spitting it

"Girlie are you ok? Are you guys even hearing yourselves? Mingyu's just being nice" You try to recompose yourself

"Ugh blind. He's literally giving you heart eyes, and won't stop looking at you"

"Maybe he looks up to me? Cause I'm older" You try to reason "He's just flirty. Maybe he's like this to all girls"

"He wasn't flirty with us" Rina speaks while gathering the trash

"Maybe because you're six years younger than him?" You speak with a duh tone

"Wow y/n, you're really blind. He's into you, that's why he's flirting... Oh he's back"

If Mingyu notices the sudden silence between the three of you, he doesn't mention it. You all stand up and look for a place to get dessert but the only thing on your mind is what Rina said

He's into you

What about you? Are you also into him? I mean, he's cute but you never saw him as more than your little cousin's (even if only one year difference) friend. It felt kinda wrong to crush a younger guy when you were a teenager but now... In your twenties... Does it really matter?

Mingyu notices that you're lost in thoughts and every once in a while he links your pinkies in order to bring you back and get you to not lose yourself in the crowd of people

Add caring to the list of green flags in Mingyu.

After that night, things seem to have changed a bit

Mingyu seems to be getting closer to you and also seems to be spending more time with you than with his friend, who actually invited him to the house.

You're cooking. Mingyu is there to help

You're cleaning up the kitchen. Mingyu offers to do the dishes

You're going to the beach earlier. Mingyu is ready to make you company

Mingyu was everywhere you were. Maybe your cousins were right, maybe he's... a tiny bit into you? Let's find out

One afternoon, everyone decided to stay back in the house and just lounge by the pool, but not you. You decided to take a walk on the beach. And of course, so did Mingyu.

You were a bit skeptical regarding his (and your) feelings so you came up with an idea. See if he gets jealous.

"So, Mingyu... Tell me more about that roommate of yours... Jeonghan was his name?"

"Yeah, Jeonghan" Mingyu liked talking about his friend but you seemed too interested in him and it was making him feel weird

"What's he like? Is he older?"

"Yes, he's really nice and caring but he's a menace sometimes. He's a year older than you"

"He's also from Korea?"

"Yeah..."

"Oh is he single?" You asked but this time looking deep into his eyes

Oh, how he could get lost in them. It took a lot of strength to not kiss you right now

"Hm why"

"Oh you know... weighing my options... When Cheol goes to visit you I could tag along and... meet some guys" you said looking at the beautiful sunset. Oh, he was jealous.

"Why not me?" Mingyu didn't miss a beat

"What?"

"Why not me? Go out with me. We're not kids anymore. I'm not a kid anymore" he emphasized stopping in his tracks to fully look at you

You stopped not expecting him to be so forward with his answer and feelings. Turning around he looked... ethereal

His light clothes swayed with the sea breeze and the pinks and oranges of the sunset complimented his tanned skin so well. You know Mingyu was good looking but you didn't realize he was THAT good looking

"I... You're..." You were caught off guard and didn't know how to respond.

Mingyu sighed loudly at your statement, or rather your lack of a response.

"Well, if you didn't like me that way you should just tell me. Please don't lie to make me feel better" he looked uncertain about what he said himself but turned around and walked back to the house.

Why did you say that?

When you returned to the house, the boys had gone to the market to buy more snacks and drinks

You couldn't even say sorry because he wasn't there

After getting in, you went straight to the room you shared with your cousins. They both stood in the living room and exchanged concerned looks since you didn't even spare them a glance.

Why did you say that? You didn't like him? That wasn't true and you knew it. What was it then? Afraid of being lonely? Were you being too sensitive?

Those thoughts made the tears start to flow

"y/n? Are you- oh my god" May immediately got inside after seeing you crying sitting on your bed "What happened?"

"Did something happen with Mingyu? When he came back he seemed upset as well..." Rina added and that made you cry harder

May hugged you and let you cry until you were too tired to do anymore. When you finally calmed down you told them everything, from the night you went to the food trucks to the moment he left you on the beach

Lonely am I being sensitive? You are the sensitive one Where are you tonight? Where's your home tonight?

Mingyu didn't mean it, but he couldn't help but put his walls up

He didn't want to be hurt anymore

When you guys were younger he saw that you looked at him the same way you looked at Seungcheol. Like a little brother, which he didn't really like. He desperately wished time would change the way you saw him and he left it up to fate

He went to uni abroad while you took yours in your home country and now it's his vacation and he's back home. Of course, he knew you met other people and he did as well, but sometimes he wished it was you there, in his arms

And now he knows that you don't want him, and it breaks him.

Of course, it crossed his mind that maybe you both could be together temporarily like some sort of summer love but he didn't think he could handle the aftermath when he left again.

He was upset but what could he do? He couldn't just stay away from you when you were living under the same roof for 2 weeks but he could distance himself a bit. Seeing you would definitely make his heart hurt more.

Mingyu didn't realize that he was being awfully quiet during the market trip, which was very unlike his upbeat puppy personality

"What happened to you?" Even quiet Wonwoo went to check on him

"Nothing"

"yeah sure" Wonwoo shrugged but Cheol turned around to put his hand on Mingyu's chest to stop him

"Are you messing around with my cousin?" Seungcheol asked skeptical

"What? No I-" Mingyu tried to defend himself

"Then what? Explain yourself. We got time" Cheol motioned for them to sit on the small bench at the market's exit. Popping open a can of beer and motioning for both friends to sit as well

"Well..."

"Well, I'm screwed. I guess I do find him endearing but at the moment I couldn't say anything. I do like him a lot but I never considered... dating him. I'm not opposed to the idea tho"

"Just go on a date with him. What could go wrong? Just go for it" May said

"What if things don't work out and we get awkward? I don't want to ruin things for Cheol-" You started to panic again

"Can you stop overthinking for one second? Just do it, the rest is the rest" Rina exclaimed "Gosh, I will charge next time for the therapy session" She smirked when you started giggling. At least you weren't crying anymore

"I guess you're right. Thanks. What would I do without you two" You said hugging them both. "Now let's go, you'll both help me with dinner"

"Oh no..."

You dragged both girls to the kitchen and gave them instructions to prep the tomatoes and arugula to make with pasta. You went to freshen up quickly, getting rid of your crying face and went back to help them and cook the pasta.

When dinner was almost done the boys arrived with more bags than anticipated.

"Sorry we took too long. We got some extra stuff because Mingyu said he was gonna prepare a special meal for us tomorrow" Cheol announced as he set the bags near the counter. The other two did the same and Mingyu started to put the ingredients away.

The girls moved to set up the table, asking Wonwoo to help by taking the heavy stack of plates to the dining area. Cheol gave you a soft smile and moved out of the kitchen as well.

"I'm-"

"I'm sorry I acted that way" Mingyu cut you off "Actually I wanted to talk to you about it" Oh no, he thought "You caught me off guard, I won't lie, but I wanted to give it a try. You and I"

Mingyu stopped what he was doing. Maybe he was imagining things

"We could go on a date tomorrow if you'd like it... I mean, if you're still willing to"

"Yes- I mean. Yeah, I would like that" He said without hesitation

"Oh, great" you have him a shy smile " Can you help me take this pan to the table?"

"Yeah, let's go" he moved to help you smiling brightly. Maybe things were starting to work out

The next day arrived and passed as normal. In the afternoon you all decided to go grab some ice cream and you and Mingyu decided to separate from the rest to go on your date.

"You didn't have to pay you know? I'm the one who has a job and not a part-time" you smirked as he passed you the waffle cone

"I'd be rude if I didn't pay on our first date" he retorted

"Well thank you, what a gentleman" you giggled as he sat opposite you. The ice cream parlor was daily empty, but it was good because it gave you some privacy.

"Mingyu" you started "I wanted to be honest with you. I think you're cute and overall a great person, but I would be lying if I said I ever thought about dating you. I don't see you as a kid anymore, you've grown into someone so admirable... you grew up so well. Your confession wasn't something I was expecting but I guess the idea of us became... surprisingly pleasant" you said looking at him

"Y/n, thank you. For being honest with me. I- I have liked you since we were teens and when you didn't respond I put my walls up. I didn't mean to be rude to you, I guess I was just scared that you would reject me. I shouldn't have acted that way I'm sorry... but I'm happy. I'm happy that you're willing to give us a chance" he smiled. A smile you could definitely get used to.

"Well lover boy, how about that special recipe Cheol said you were going to prepare?" You said and he smirked

"Get really to taste the best dish you've ever had. I'll sweep you off your feet and you'll definitely fall for me this time" he said proudly, taking a bite of his cone and having some ice cream on the corner of his mouth

"I'll be looking forward to it" you said while grabbing a napping and cleaning the corner of his mouth.

He could get used to that

Your days at the beach were ending and your dates with Mingyu were making your relationship become stronger.

"Mingyu what are your plans when we get back to the city?" Tina asked as you all were lying on beach towels under the sunshade.

"I'll go visit my family for a while, my grandma lives on the countryside" he answered and took a peek at the magazine you were reading. Your head rested on his stretched arm and he moved you to basically lay on his chest since his arm was starting to feel numb.

"Before you go back to uni, could you spare me some time?" You asked looking up at him. Even under the sunglasses, he could see your doe eyes

"Anything for you" he smiled

"Ew, don't say those things in front of us" Seungcheol made a face of disgust and gave Mingyu a slight slap. "Anyways, anybody wants to go take a dive? I'm melting"

"Yeah let's go" Wonwoo said standing up, as well as Rina. May also stood up but reached for her purse.

"Should I get us snacks? That tent is selling French fries"

"Oh yes, please get us two portions! The boys eat too much" you responded sitting up as your dousing just nodded and went on her way.

"Before I move back I'll take you on a really nice date. Maybe at your house? I could cook again since you liked it so much" Mingyu smirked as he resumed your previous conversation

"What are you implying Mr. Kim?" You side-eyed him but smiled after "That would be nice, I'm sad you'll have to leave me soon" you pouted

"Don't worry, I'll come back running for my girlfriend. You could also visit me you know..."

"Oh? Am I your girlfriend now? Since when?" You raised your eyebrows at him. It was amusing to poke fun at him, his cute pouting was a sight you loved

"You don't want to be my girlfriend?"

You pecked those pouty lips. You were both being really cliche, but with him, things were beginning to feel right.

You pecked those pouty lips. You were both being really cliche but with him, things were beginning to feel right.

"Yes, I would love that"

I'm sorry about this open ending! I got stuck on this one and had to extend it because I wasn't liking it at all. I hope you guys like it! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Stay tuned for the Wonwoo version!!!