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moonsgemini · 9 months ago

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cherry wine - firefighter!rafe pt. 2

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summary: Rafe’s job gets in the way of your first date, but you’re not mad about it.

warnings: teacher!reader x firefighter!rafe, fluff, mutual pining, flirting, sexy rafe, SMUT, fingering, fem rec oral, fem!reader, inaccurate descriptions of firefighter duties, alcohol, cursing

an: I have no idea how a fire fighters schedule works so I made it up bc it’s fiction. oh & do we like the long fics?? oh & it’s my birthday yay to 24

part one ☆ part three

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The night at the bar Rafe made sure you were sober to drive. He had you drink lots of water and even ordered you a plate of fries. His mind wandering off when you would lick the salt off your fingers. He was gone for you from the start and he didn’t mind one bit.

After walking you to your car he asked for your number and promised to see you the next day. Leaving you with a kiss on the cheek and permanent butterflies. The whole drive home you belted out the lyrics to your favorite pop music, feeling like a high school girl with a crush.

Rafe drove him in silence with a grin on his face. When he got home and texted you that he had a great time and couldn’t wait to see you again that grin never vanished. It only widened when you replied reciprocating the same feelings.

The next day came and a couple hours before picking you up Rafe got called into the station. Instead of texting he called you wanting to make sure you knew he wasn’t flaking. You believed him of course. Yet you couldn’t help the natural feeling of disappointment that flowed through your bones.

That feeling was soothed when he texted you late that night that he had finally gotten back to the station. Along with that he sent a picture of the station dog Max on his lap. You couldn’t help the way your mouth watered at the sight of his veiny big hand that was resting in the golden retrievers fur. In return you sent back a picture of your steaming mug of tea and a horror movie playing on the tv in the back.

It sparked a conversation about movies which led to you and Rafe talking non stop the following week. Besides the times you were teaching and he was out training or helping people.

Rafe promised you a proper date that upcoming Friday. Making sure to let you know that he would do anything to make it work out this time. You reassured him it was okay if something came up again. That made his heart burst, it wasn’t often that someone was willing to work with his hectic schedule.

The outfit you had planned for the previous weekend still sat on your vanity chair waiting to be worn. And hopefully waiting to be taken off. You had finished your hair and makeup all done to perfection. As it neared closer to the time he was picking you up your anxiety spiked. He hadn’t called to reschedule so it was really happening.

Rafe had gotten worked up all week with the pictures you’d occasionally send of what you were doing. The one that really got him was when you had gotten out of the shower and sent him a picture of you in a fuzzy robe with wet hair and your skin glistening. Most likely due to a skincare routine you had mentioned to him.

Rafe thought you looked like a goddess, he wished he could have gotten down on his knees and untied that robe with his teeth before worshiping you. His kind had been in the gutter all week.

He was making sure this date was going to go perfect. He bought a bouquet of flowers from a street vendor and worn his best date outfit. As he rang the doorbell to your small cottage he started to get a bit nervous. He hadn’t put this much effort into a date since high school. Even then how much effort could a teenage boy put in. He didn’t actually remember the last time he went on a date.

Rafe’s runaway thoughts were interrupted as you opened the door. Standing in front of him in a short black skirt and black top. A jacket hanging over your arm and your glossy lips turning up into a smile. The boots you were accentuated your legs making them look even longer. Rafe wanted to lick every inch of you. Especially after the smell of your perfume hit him, he wanted to kiss your neck.

“Hi,” You said with a teasing tone.

He didn’t realize he hadn’t said anything, “You look beautiful.” He made it a point to look her up and down.

She laughed as heat creeped up her neck, “Thank you Rafe.”

He loved how you said his name, “These are for you.” He handed you the flowers.

“Come in while I put them in water,” You nodded towards the inside of the house, “They’re beautiful Rafe. You really do know how to treat me good.”

He closed the door behind him as you began filling a vase with water, “Oh this is nothing.”

“If there’s more than this I might start to like you a little too much,” You joked hoping the weight of those words don’t send him running. You didn’t mean to say something so forward so soon. Literally on the first date, but you decided to stick by your words. You didn’t want to hide that you liked him.

“Perfect, because I already like you a little too much.”

You froze with the kitchen towel in your hands as you dries them. As you looked at him his smile was sincere, no hint of teasing or lying. You finished drying your hands as you laughed softly. The crush you had on Rafe was growing by the minute.

“Ready?” You asked.

He nodded opening the front door for you. He even opened the passenger door of his truck for you. Of course you knew these were bare minimum things but you couldn’t help how giddy it made you feel. Especially when it was him doing it for you.

Everything couldn’t have been going more perfect. Rafe was almost grateful he had to postpone the date because in the week the two of you talked he learned a lot. With the knowledge of you he had he planned the perfect date.

He took you to a record shop that you hadn’t been to before. You had told him about your extensive collection you had started building in high school. He even remembered a few of the bands you liked when he came across them. Of course he insisted on buying you a couple which you repeatedly told him not to. Obviously he didn’t listen and bought you them.

Next door was the Italian restaurant Rafe had been raving about all week. Promising you it’d be the best pasta of your life.

But as you looked over the menu, a ghost of a grin hasn’t left your mouth all evening, his phone started ringing. Rafe took his phone out of his pocket beginning to apologize for not silencing it. He was going to ignore the call but the name across the screen had his brows furrowing in worry.

“Everything okay?”

He looked up briefly, “Uh yeah it’s my captain. I’m so sorry I need to answer this.” You nodded understanding as he gave you a regretful smile as he slid out the booth to take the call. You continued to look over the cocktail menu.

Rafe sighed as he sat down across from you again, “Everything okay?” You asked

He shook his head, “I hate to do this but I got called in. I wasn’t supposed to work today but there’s a hug pile up downtown where there’s a big concert and they need all the help they can get.”

You tried not to show the disappointment you felt because it was his job after all. Rafe could still see how your eyes lost a bit of their shine and your smile wasn’t as bright anymore. He really hated this. In his career so far he had never been called in so much. But now when he meets the hottest woman he’s ever seen work is taking over his life. He was not about to have you slip through his fingers.

“Oh yeah I understand. You can just drop m-“ You began saying before he interrupted.

“Come with me.”

“Huh?”

He shook his head with a laugh, “Not to the wreck to the station. Wait for me there.”

He didn’t even wait for you to reply because for one he needed to leave now or Captain Matthews would chew his head off. And two if you decided you didn’t want to and wanted nothing to do with him anymore he’s take you home, but the sound of your laugh as he pulled you through the restaurant was enough of an answer. Your hands stayed locked together until you got back into his truck.

The station wasn’t too far from where you already were so the drive was short. Rafe rushed out to open your door and grab your hand once again. As you trailed behind him you saw a few of the guys from career day and some new faces as they all stood by an engine in the garage. A couple were checking equipment and a few others were already getting on the truck.

“Sorry to interrupt your date but we need your help here Cameron,” An older guy said as the two of you approached. You assumed this was his captain.

You smiled, “Duty calls right?”

He laughed, “It sure does.”

“I’ll be right out,” Rafe said leading you into the station. He walked you into a room that was like a big living room with couches and a tv. Max was laying on the couch and when he saw Rafe he immediately got up and walked over to the pair.

“This is Max. Say hi Maxie bug,” He pet the dogs head who then sniffed your leg. You bent down petting his fluffy head.

“Hi Maxie.”

“Make yourself at home and feel free to anything in the kitchen. I’ll be back hopefully in a couple hours. If you get bored and uber home I won’t be offended I promise,” Rafe said placing a hand on your shoulder.

You nodded, “Got it. Be safe and good luck.”

He leaned in with a grin and kissed your cheek gingerly. Even that small touch had your head spinning. You and Max watched as he jogged back outside and only a couple minutes later you heard the truck leave.

It had been almost two hours now and Rafe was still out. You had watched a fe episodes of your favorite sitcom and played with Max a bit. You even explored the station finding the kitchen and a few of the rooms used for sleeping where you stole a blanket from to lay over yourself on the couch. The only issue you were having was that you were starving.

Since you two had to leave dinner you hadn’t eaten since lunch and that meesley turkey sandwich was not cutting it.

That’s when you wandered into the kitchen and that habit of wanting to take care of people kicked in. You looked through to see what the guys had almost expecting to find the bare minimum. You were so wrong. The fridge and pantry were filled with groceries. You thought these guys must really eat a lot.

You started brain storming and decided on making lasagna and garlic bread. You figured they’d all be hungry when they got back and you were also starving. As the garlic bread finished in the oven and the lasagna cooled down you heard the rumbling of the fire truck. Perfect timing. You hoped you didn’t overstep but he did say make yourself at home. You even baked some chocolate chip cookie dough they had in the fridge. Even also tossing a salad to have on the side.

As Rafe opened the door that led to the station the smell of garlic bread and fresh baked cookies hit him. He thought he must be hallucinating until he walked into the kitchen and saw you getting plates out from the cupboard. A few of the guys walked in behind Rafe.

“Hey we’re back,” Rafe said stepping towards you, “Did you make dinner?”

You nodded a bit of embarrassment creeping up your spine, “Yeah hope you guys don’t mind. I was hungry and I figured you were too so I made food for you all.”

Josh stepped forward looking at the pan of lasagna, “Rafe keep her please, this looks amazing.”

“Seriously thank you this looks so good,” Captiain Matthews said as he stepped in.

“No problem please help yourselves,” You motioned towards the counter of food.

Rafe couldn’t look away from you. The way you stood so comfortably in the station kitchen talking to his coworkers. He walked closer towards you as the guys served themselves.

“You are just too sweet huh?” He teased.

“Well we missed our italian dinner so I made it myself,” You shrugged with a grin.

“That just means next time I’m cooking for you,” He said. The thought of there being a next time brough butterflies to your stomach.

“I’ll hold you to it,” You nodded.

Rafe grabbed a plate and began to serve you food. Handing over the plate before serving himself. All the guys thanked you as Rafe led you to the living room area. He also grabbed a bottle from one of the tall cabinets along with two glasses.

“Now I know this isn’t what I promised you but next time will be better,” He promised as he opened the bottle of wine.

“There’s no complaints from me about this date,” You shrugged, “Since when are you allowed to have alcohol in here?”

He smirked, “Well miss I’m technically off the clock again and this is from the christmas party we had a few months ago. Cherry wine?”

Your eyes lit up, “It’s like you know me already, I love cherry wine.”

After your stomachs were full of good food and a bit of wine that made your head feel a bit floaty you both settled on the couch. This was the best date you’d ever been on. Rafe was sweet and flirty never hiding his desire for you. Not even in a sexual way but in a way where he constantly asked questions about everything wanting to know more about you. He talked about his life as well which only made you like him more. Hearing about his troubled privileged childhood that led him to where he is now. It was admirable to hear him talk about it with no shame since it made him who he is.

As it got later Rafe drove you home. You were disappointed the night was ending but it was nearing one in the morning and you still had lesson plans to create.

He walked you up to your door with an arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“I had a really great time with you tonight. I’m sorry again for the interruption.”

You shook your head, “Don’t worry about it Rafe. I still had a great time.”

“The guys are going to want you around all the time now,” He laughed.

“Oops,” You shrugged with a smirk.

He stepped closer, “Be careful now I might get jealous.”

“Maybe I’ll keep going then,” You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, “I know it’s late but uh do you want to come in?”

Rafe didn’t hesitate, “Yeah sure.”

You unlocked your door leading him in, “I can make you a cup of tea if you’d like or something else.” You asked as you set your things down on the entryway table.

“hmmm something else?” He asks as he steps closer to you.

You look through your cupboards, “I have tea, coffee, some random-“ your words caught in your throat as you turned around to look at him only to find Rafe behind you.

“That all sounds good but I think I want something sweet,” He said as he inched closer. Your hands rested behind you against the counter. Eyes wide with anticipation and curiosity as to what his next move would be.

“Like sweat tea?” You asked knowing exactly what he means but not wanting to jump to conclusions.

His smirk turned into a lopsided grin. He rubbed his hand over his mustache and shook his head stepping closer, “No that cherry wine was pretty sweet right?”

You nodded in agreement not taking your eyes off him.

“I think I want a bit more of that,” He was now practically caging you in against the counter. You felt like you were suffocating in him in the best way possible.

“Oh I don-“ He interrupted you by leaning forward and brushing his nose against yours. It shut you up immediately and then he broke the rest of the distance and pressed his lips to yours. You reciprocated moved your hands from the counter to pull at the blonde hair at the back of his head. His hands went to your hips pulling you closer to him then sliding up to your waist.

His thumbs going under your shirt the skin on skin contact made you shiver in the best way. Your mouths moved in sync as the kiss deepened.

Rafe could taste the sweetness but he wasn’t sure if it was the cherry wine or just you. He knew he was addicted to you now. He loved the way your hands felt in his hair and on his biceps and shoulders. He slotted his leg in between yours making you feel even closer to him. The small noises you were making made him sigh into the kiss.

He pulled away before kissing you a few more times and murmuring, “So sweet.”

You whined and tugged at his shirt to pull him back in. He smirked and gave you what you wanted. He’d give you anything you wanted.

This time you pulled away feeling a bit bold and the feeling of his thigh pressing against the place where you needed him the most helped you say, “You wanna see my room?”

He laughed softly kissing your nose, “You inviting me to your room?”

You scoffed a laugh, “Nooo I’m asking if you want to see my room. There’s a difference.”

“I’d love to see your room.” He said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes playfully and shoved him. Grabbing his hand and leading him down the hallway to your room. You turned on the lamp on your nightstand which illuminated the room with a soft glow. Rafe had decidedly that he loved seeing you in that light. You looked like a real like angel.

“So this is it,” You said motioning to your surroundings.

He threw his head back with a hearty laugh, “Oh I really like you sweetheart. Come here,” He motioned with his fingers for you to come closer. A motion that had your mind in the gutter.

“Why do you say that?” You question as you walk forward to where he stood at the end of your bed.

“Because you’re all cute and sweet like you didn’t almost make me come just by making out.”

“Rafe!” You said with a surprised laugh.

He shrugged, “What? It’s the truth.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck still feeling bold. There was something about how unabashedly he admitted his feelings towards you that had you feeling confident. It felt good to be wanted. It felt good to be wanted by Rafe.

“You’re ridiculous,” You said as he wrapped his arms around your waist. His eyes moving down to your still swollen lips.

“Mhmm,” He hummed and nodded. He leaned in just like he did earlier in the kitchen. Kissing the air out of your lungs. His hands moved all over you gripping and holding anything he could.

His hand slipped down your back and over your butt, giving a squeeze as he past it, down to the end of your skirt, His fingers trailed up the back of your thigh and up your skirt. Hands gripping your ass under your skirt. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips which allowed him more access into your mouth.

There was a small part of your brain that hadn’t quite turned off yet. Rafe’s lips began to trail down to your neck leaving open mouthed kisses that had you arching into him. The feeling of his mustache against your smooth skin had you shivering.That’s when that part of your brain decided to speak up.

“Oh Rafe,” You said breathily eyes fluttering shut, “are you sure, it’s late and don’t you have work?” Rafe groaned as he kissed the spot behind your ear. He couldn’t help but get more turned on at the sound of her caring about him, but work and sleep were far from his mind. Right now he just wanted to bury his head between your thighs and have you moaning and withering underneath him.

“Baby I could care less about that right now,” He walked you back until you were sat on the bed. The bed wasn’t very tall so when he stood in between your legs you had to look up at him. The way he towered over you had your flimsy underwear feeling soaked. You had never been so turned on by a man.

Rafe reached forward to cup your jaw. Thumb stroking your cheek gently. Now that part of your brain was completely silent. All you could think about was him.

“You’re so beautiful,” He mumbled almost to himself.

A soft smile appeared on your face and he practically groaned again. Your doe eyes looking up at him with an innocent smile had his cock hardening even more if that’s possible. He bit his lip and watched as your eyes moved to his mouth. He knew you wanted him as bad as he wanted you and that made this all the more exciting.

He slowly trailed his thumb to his mouth, pulling at her bottom lip teasingly. Almost like a habit your mouth opened slightly. He took this as a sign to gently push it into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around it sucking and licking.

“Fuck,” He muttered as he felt your warm tongue. Where had you been all his life. He was never going to let you go. He pulled it out and leaned down kissing you again.

“You’re so hot,” He mumbled as he got on his knees in front of you. He removed your boots that you were still wearing and kissed up both legs. The intimacy of it all had your chest rising rapidly. The anticipation of just how good you know this man is going to treat you was enough to make your toes curl.

“I’ve been thinking about these thighs since I first picked you up,” He said as he kissed your inner thighs. He had placed your legs over his shoulders, hands gripping the outside of them. You sighed as your body ignited in pleasure.

You let out a small yelp as he pulled your center closer to his face causing you to fall back, “And fuuuck I’ve been thinking about pushing this little skirt up all night.” He hummed in appreciation as he pushed the black material up. Your feet now resting on the end of the bed. Your barely clothed pussy on display. Leaning back on your elbows you watched with hazy eyes as Rafe admired you.

He looked up at you through hooded eyes and a smirk, “Can I please taste you?” He knew you wouldn’t say no but he wanted to be a gentleman anyways.

“Please,” You whispered slightly bucking your hips up.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lace covered clit. The black lacy panties you had on barely doing anything to cover your slick cunt. He took a mental picture for the next time he was in the shower.

You moaned softly as he continued to kiss over panties, eventually pulling them to the side. He murmured curse words as he lifted his thumb to run through your folds. Gently slipping the tip of it inside you to gather your wetness. He trailed it up to your clot beginning to rub soft circles. The motion had your head falling back with a sigh.

Rafe turned his head and peppered kisses on your inner thigh. He pressed down a little harder as he watched you get wetter. After a few strokes he tentatively dipped his head down and licked your clit.

That was enough for him to know this is what he wanted to taste forever. He roughly pulled off the lacey matterial throwing it somewhere in the room.

He groaned as he fully dived in. Licking, sucking, and kissing just where you needed him to. He listened to your moans and soft whines to see what you liked the most. He was so painfully hard but he didn’t even care. Rafe just wanted you to come.

“Oh god Rafe,” You moaned as his tongue dipped into you. Your hands gripped his hair tugging when something felt extra good.

He moaned and the sound sent even more pleasure through you, “You taste so fucking good.”

“Rafe I’m close,” You panted, “you’re so good don’t stop please.”

He shook his head with his mouth still on you, “Never baby, you’re gonna have to pry me away from this pussy.”

The dirty words sending you even closer to the edge. You had never been talked to like this and you loved it. You liked how he ravaged you and actually paid attention to what you liked.

You felt his finger nudge your entrance before he slipped it in. Your walls tightening around his thick finger. You arched you back as he reached one hand up to press flat against your stomach to lay you down more. Then he added a second finger and you couldn’t help the cry that escaped your lips. It felt so good the way he moved them in and out. Fingers curled up hitting that spot you so desperately needed.

The lewd sounds of his fingers fucking you and his mouth on your clit filled the room. Along with your loud moans and his occasional groans. The roughness of his mustache felt so good on the sensitive bud.

“Rafey I’m-I’m gonna,”

“Mhmmm let go for me pretty girl,” He encouraged as his fingers moved faster and mouthed hungrily at your clit.

You became a shaking moaning mess as he continues his ministrations. Your orgasm taking over your body. His hand gripped your thigh roughly as he kept going until your high was over. Once your back was flar on the mattress he slowly pulled out and pressed one last kiss on your puffy clit.

He made his way up your body kissing your stomach over your shirt and then you exposed cleavage. He kissed you fully and you could feel his mustache damp with your arousal. You could also taste yourself on his tongue which had you moaning again. Rafe lifted you to be farther up the bed so he can comfortably lay on top.

“You taste so fucking good I already wanna do it again,” He said smirking as he pulled away.

You smiled in a daze, “You’re gonna be the death of me.” As you reached your hand down to the front of his pants. Your hand cupped him through the material and he groaned, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

“Fuck I really really want to do more but I actually do have work in a couple hours,” He groaned. He wishes he could just call off and spend the whole night rolling around in bed with you.

You looked at him with slight disappointment but understanding, “You sure?”

He leaned down and bit your neck playfully, “Don’t look at me like that. I’ll be easily convinced.”

You giggled, “I understand Rafe.”

“I’m seeing you again though. I never lied about that. Especially after you let me have a taste of you,” He groaned dramatically, “So fucking delicious I’m addicted.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron au

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azzibuckets · 22 days ago

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worth the wait [part two]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count: 4.7k

wtw masterlist

2017 - Colorado Springs, Colorado

1 year ago

Azzi is taking a long pull from her water bottle when she feels a warmth behind her. Paige doesn’t touch her, not yet, but still, Azzi feels dizzy from the proximity of her presence.

“Hey.” Paige bends down a little, mouth almost brushing the shell of her ear. Azzi shivers. “Meet me after dinner in the conference room.”

“Conference room?” Azzi repeats, barely able to register what the older girl is saying when her hands are now lightly touching the small of her back.

“At the hotel.” Azzi doesn’t know why Paige is even talking to her, much less asking to rendezvous late at night. They’ve only had a couple conversations since Paige had flirted with her in the bathroom the first day of tryouts, all of them brief and in passing. But she’d be lying if she said that Paige hasn’t been on her mind all week. The older girl is hard to miss in the gym; she’s a natural show-off on the court, her flashy style of play begging for everyone to stop and look at her. But off the court, the way she walks around with a kind of quiet confidence beyond her age? There’s no other word to describe Azzi but fascinated.

When Azzi doesn’t respond, Paige tilts her head and tugs lightly at her shirt sleeve. “You’ll be there?” she asks hopefully, eyes eager.

Azzi ducks her head, hoping to hide the blush she know is spreading across her cheeks. “I’ll be there,” she affirms quietly.

“Alright,” Paige says, a wide smile overtaking her face. “Just me and you, yeah?”

Azzi can only nod before Paige is called away. The blonde doesn’t break eye contact, walking backwards and sending a little wink. Azzi’s chest tightens. She wonders if Paige feels it too—the way it feels like everyone else disappears when they make eye contact, the sparks in her tummy whenever they touch. She doesn’t quite know what it means yet, but she really hope she does too.

“She wants to do what?” Jordan, who’d been lying on the bed and throwing a plastic basketball in the air, suddenly sits up.

“Meet after dinner. Just us.” Azzi’s too giddy to notice the look that Sam and Jordan exchange.

“How long have you known her for?” Sam asks gently.

“Just this week.” Azzi buries her face into her pillow, hiding the stupid grin on her face. “We met on the first day of tryouts.”

“Az.” Sam moves closer, sympathy written across her face. “I’ve known Paige for a couple of years now, and she’s….” Sam goes quiet, searching for the right word.

“Flaky? A flirt?” Jordan cuts in, always one to be blunt.

“She’s not a bad person,” Sam defends. “She’s my friend. But I’ve seen her with a lot of different girls, and I don’t know.” She throws an affectionate arm around Azzi’s shoulders and pulls her in tight. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“So?” Azzi shrugs, choosing to give the blonde the benefit of the doubt. “I don’t have a crush on her or anything, and besides, she’s friends with a lot of people.” She thinks it’s sorta silly her friends think she wants something more with Paige. Yeah, the older girl is pretty, and definitely attractive, but Azzi’s only ever liked boys. All she wants to do is get to know Paige a little better, to unpack the mystery that everyone seems to know, to uncover a little bit just for herself.

Azzi walks to the conference room as soon as she finishes eating, her steps light. There’s a lot of doors, and she opens each one until she finds the room with the long table and plastic chairs. Settling into one of them, she waits patiently.

And patiently. When ten minutes go by, she shifts in her seat. Her butt is starting to hurt from the cold, hard, metal, but Paige isn’t exactly known for being timely. So she keeps waiting. She’s not too worried yet.

Thirty minutes pass when she starts to pace around the room, trying to shake some feeling back into her legs. Her heart pounds, no longer in anticipation, but in an uncomfortable sort of dread that rots in her stomach, slow and sinking.

Azzi doesn’t let herself sit in the room for an hour. It’s fifty-one minutes before she gives into the sting of rejection and forces herself to stand up.

She passes by the gym on the way up, and seeing a flicker of movement, looks a little closer. There’s a familiar flash of blonde hair, and an audible trace of a laugh that’s even more familiar.

She squints through the window. Paige, on the bench, dumbbells forgotten at her feet as she smiles at a girl. The girl says something, and Paige laughs even harder. Something aches, first to her nose, where it burns, then her throat, where it’s hard to breathe, and then to her stomach, where it feels like falling down the first dip of the rollercoaster, but this time, there’s no one to catch her. No brakes to stop this nasty feeling that makes her want to curl up into a ball and cry.

Eyes burning, Azzi flees up the stairs. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She’s too hurt to take the time to ask herself why she feels this way. All she knows is that Paige had stood her up, Paige had been out there, flirting with and touching another girl while Azzi had waited in the conference room for damn near an hour, alone. Goddamn you, Paige Bueckers.

1 year later

2018 - Minsk, Belarus

“Look at you two,” Amy coos, a hand placed over her heart. It’s easy to see where Paige gets her air for drama from, Azzi thinks. “Already sharing clothes and everything.” Paige stiffens beside her, but thankfully doesn’t say anything incriminating, and Azzi breathes out a slow exhale of relief.

Their parents exchange pleasantries, acting as if they hadn’t just spent three hours in the bleachers plotting over their daughters under the guise of watching their game. Azzi and Paige and her siblings stand around in an awkward circle, the younger ones sizing Azzi up like she’s an alien. It’s only now that Azzi wishes her little brothers had come along for the trip. They’re with her grandparents in Minnesota right now, and she misses her best friends.

Reluctantly, Paige breaks the silence by gesturing to her siblings. “Uh, this is my little brother, Drew, and my other brother, Ryan. And this is Lauren.”

Azzi waits for Paige to introduce her name, but the blonde merely pulls out her phone and starts scrolling, a bored expression on her face. She has a mind to slap her, but then she looks at Paige’s siblings and is overcome with cuteness aggression. Optimistic by their sweet faces that they’re nothing like their demon spawn of a sister, she bends down to their height. “Hey guys,” she says softly, “I’m Azzi, Paige’s teammate. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“I knew that,” Lauren responds. She can’t be more than eight, and her eyes are bright and oddly similar to Paige’s. “You’re the really good one.” Her smile is crooked and infectious, and Azzi can’t help but smile in return.

“You could say that,” Azzi replies teasingly, at the same time Paige mutters under her breath, “Not as good as me.”

Azzi casts Paige a look that says Seriously? and to her surprise, the older girl tucks her phone away and starts to pay attention. “Jokes,” Paige backtracks, plastering on a smile that resembles more of a grimace. Then she ruffles Ryan’s hair, and her demeanor completely changes; the look in her eyes is something akin to awe as she picks up Drew and squeezes him and does the same thing with Lauren. “How was your day?”

Lauren and Ryan begin to tell a story about how they got lost downtown earlier that day, voices slowly rising as they try to speak over the other, and Paige is wholly attentive, nodding along and asking questions as if it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever heard. By the way her little siblings fight for her attention, Azzi can tell they absolutely adore her. It’s a side to the older girl that Azzi has never seen before, and she doesn’t realize she’s staring until she feels a hard poke in her side.

Looking down, she’s surprised to see Drew, who had seemed more occupied with his toy dinosaur than paying attention to the antics of his older siblings. “Hi,” he says simply, big brown eyes blinking up at her, and when Azzi really looks at him, a carbon copy of Paige, she’s surprised by how strong the genes run in the family.

“Hey there,” she says, a smile forming on her lips when the little boy raises his arms. Scooping him up and settling him on her hip, she gives him a little tickle, and he giggles. “You must be Drew.”

“I am,” he says proudly. His eyebrows suddenly furrow as he pokes Azzi’s cheek. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” Azzi touches her face, wondering if there’s still chocolate from her binging session earlier. It would just be like Paige to see food on her face and not tell her.

“The hole.” Drew pokes at her cheek again when Paige suddenly cuts in.

“That’s a dimple, Drewski.” Paige reaches for her brother, who climbs out of Azzi’s arms begrudgingly and into his sister’s.

“You tryna steal my siblings?” Paige grumbles, but there’s less animosity in her tone than usual.

“I’m surprised these sweet little angels are related to you,” Azzi whispers at a volume only audible to Paige. Cooing, she squeezes Drew’s cheek as he looks at her, starry eyed. “She’s pretty, Paigey,” Drew giggles, reaching to poke her dimple again, and Azzi beams.

Teeth nibbling on her bottom lip, Paige shakes her head. “You don’t think she’s pretty?” Drew questions, and oh, Paige is going to murder her little brother. Her eyes flick up to meet Azzi’s, about to make a ridiculous joke, but then her brain short circuits as she realizes how long Azzi’s lashes are as they flutter, and how pretty her dimpled smile is, and she stutters. Paige Bueckers is stuttering, and she’s about ready to leave and jump off the roof of the building when her parents thankfully call them over. Clutching Drew tight, Paige’s mouth forms a thin line as she marches away, and Azzi stares after her, confused. Confident, cocky Paige had turned into a stammering mess right in front of her. She smiles to herself. Oh, she’s never gonna let this go.

“I love that you guys have become friends,” Amy says as they begin to dig into their food. “Ever since I watched you two on the court together last year, I’ve been meaning to get to know your family! Azzi, you seem like such a sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” Azzi mumbles into her food. Paige chews her food bitterly, wondering how the hell Azzi’s fooled everyone into thinking she’s a sweetheart when she’s more of an iceberg.

“It’s been so nice seeing Azzi get out of her shell,” Tim adds in. “Last year she played for the high school team as an eighth grader and she really struggled to make friends on the team.” He runs her shoulder fondly. “We’re really proud of how she’s adjusted.”

“You didn’t have to say that,” Azzi says quietly, fork dropping onto her plate. Paige looks up, noting the sudden tension as her eyes flick between Azzi and her parents.

“Az, come on, he didn’t mean it like that,” Katie says softly.

“Well, you still said it.” Azzi gets up suddenly, her cloth napkin falling to the floor in a lump. Staring fixated at the floor, she says shakily, “I gotta use the bathroom. Don’t follow me,” before she’s gone.

The table is stunned. Amy’s eyes dart to her, and she cocks her head meaningfully. Right. Paige rises, brushing her hands on her thighs. “Uh, I should go check on her.” She clears her throat. “Excuse me.” As she follows after Azzi, she wonders if this a bad idea. She’s pretty sure she’s the last person the younger girl would want to see in this situation, but she can’t really back out now, not with two sets of parents eyeing her path to the bathroom.

When she enters the bathroom, Azzi is leaning against the sink, hands gripping the marbled counter as if she’ll fall if she lets go.

“Yo.” Paige stands tentatively behind her, unsure of what to do. “You good?”

“I’m fine.” Azzi scrubs angrily at her eyes. They’re already irritated and bloodshot, and Paige has half a mind to tell her that rubbing them will only make it worse. “Didn’t mean to make a scene.”

“Well, you kinda did.”

Azzi laughs, and it’s dry and flat and not at all humorous but Paige moves closer, taking it as a good sign. “Didn’t I say not to follow me?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t really listen to you.” Paige has never been great around crying people, especially with those she can’t even be nice to when they aren’t crying. So sue her if she sticks with what she knows best.

“So you’re just here to do your usual job of annoying me?”

“Yeah, but I’m doing it compassionately this time.” Paige nudges her. “Call it growth or whatever.”

Azzi looks up at the ceiling, trying to blink away her tears. “You suck at comforting people.”

“That wasn’t really my goal.” Paige leans against the wall, arms folded, eyes serious. “It was weirdly satisfying seeing you not have your shit together for once, and well. How could I pass up the opportunity?”

That puts a scowl on Azzi’s mouth. “If you’re gonna make me feel worse, just leave, Paige.”

The older girl sighs. “Alright, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just—you’re always so composed, so mature, so perfect. It’s nice to know for once that you’re human, just like the rest of us.”

Azzi is quiet for a beat before she admits softly, “It’s a shitty feeling.” She looks down at her hands. “When your parents think you’re a loser who can’t make friends.”

Paige tilts her head.

“I can make friends,” she says, almost to herself. “Just cuz I’m not outgoing doesn’t mean I’m a loner. They can’t seem to get that, though.”

“Can’t read the room, either,” Paige jokes, and Azzi smiles a little at that. Then they fall silent, both unsure of what to say.

“You know it’s okay, right?” Paige presses. “To let yourself fall apart every once in a while.” She says this harshly, tone grating against Azzi’s ears, but they don’t take away from the kindness in her words. Before Paige can stop herself, her thumb swipes across her cheek, wiping away a tear, lingering as if she’s scared Azzi will break as soon as she pulls away. They stay like that for a moment, tension hanging so thick between them it’s almost palpable, so close that Paige can feel Azzi’s breath fan warmly over her cheeks, until Azzi shifts, causing Paige’s hand to fall back to her side.

Azzi can felt her heart pound in her ears, blood rushing headily to her cheeks. Paige stuffs her hands into her pockets, trying to clear the awkwardness. She hadn’t meant for the moment to be so tender. She hadn’t meant to be soft towards someone who’d always iced her out. But her body had inexplicably betrayed her, viscerally reacting to seeing Azzi cry as if it had hurt her, too. “Just don’t take too long in here.” Paige mumbles finally. “Lauren’s getting antsy. Wants to go home and play Roblox.”

Azzi laughs a little at that. She looks in the mirror and starts to fix herself up. “Yeah, whatever. Tell them I’ll be back in a second.”

Paige nods and leaves. When the door swings shut behind her, she takes a moment to lean against it, metal and brick cold against her hands. God. What was she doing?

Dinner passes, albeit a little awkwardly. When they’re about to leave, Drew runs over and throws his arm around Azzi’s legs. “It was nice meeting you, buddy,” she laughs, wrapping her arms around him and holding his little body tight.

“Can we hang out again?” he says eagerly.

“Yeah, maybe,” Azzi responds, unsure that Paige would take kindly to her and her little brother spending time together. But she’s not about to break his little heart, so she ruffles his hair and promises, “I’ll see you, okay?” and the smile on his face is worth it.

“Okay.” Drew looks around before tugging her hand. “I gotta tell you a secret.”

“What’s that?”

“Paigey definitely thinks you’re pretty too.” Drew smirks. “She was staring at you all night.”

Azzi doesn’t really know what to do with that information, and despite the fact that she knows that Drew is barely five and probably doesn’t even know what he’s talking about, her stomach flips all the same, and all she can say is a pathetic “Oh.”

༉‧₊˚✧

Azzi’s lacing up her shoes when Hailey approaches her. “Hey, Azzi.”

Azzi nods at her, unsure of what she wants. They aren’t exactly friends, per se, their exchanges only consisting of asking to borrow a hair tie or complimenting a good shot, but they’ve always been cordial. Hailey takes a seat next to her, starting to work on exchanging her slides for sneakers.

“You okay?” When Azzi raises an eyebrow, Hailey continues, “You’ve been a little off lately. Not really just today, but since we got to Belarus.” She pauses. “So I just wanted to ask if you need anything.”

Azzi removed one of her earbuds, even more confused. “What?”

“I meant—Paige said you’ve had a rough time lately. That it’s been hard for you, socially and all. I dunno.” Hailey’s voice becomes more and more unsure as the look on Azzi’s face darkens. “But uh, it’s cool that you two are tight now,” she trails off.

“Paige told you that?”

Hailey swallows, hands faltering on her own laces. “Yeah? I’m sure she didn’t mean anything bad by it—“

Azzi doesn’t respond. She finishes tying her shoe with a tight, overly aggressive pull. “I’m fine,” she grits out, standing up. “And just so you know, me and Paige aren’t tight.” She slings her backpack over her shoulder. “We aren’t anything.”

Paige is enveloped in darkness when she hears the loud slam of the locker room door. Wrestling the rest of her shirt over her head, her head finally finds and slips through the collared hole, and she yelps in surprise when she finds Azzi’s face a mere few inches from hers. Eyebrows scrunched up and pouty lips downturned, the younger girl looks more like an angry teddy bear than anything, and Paige bites back a laugh. “If this is about my socks being on your bed, I—”

“You told them I’m lonely?” Azzi interrupts.

Paige takes a step back, but Azzi only follows. “Azzi, what?”

She moves forward, rough hands pushing Paige against the locker. “Hailey said that you told her I’ve been having a hard time. Like I’m a fucking charity case.”

“Aight, first of all, that’s not what I said.” Paige swats Azzi’s hands away from her, trying to ignore how warm her touch was. “Second of all, what the hell?”

“I open up for one fucking second and you’re already blabbering away.” Azzi spits out, and Paige has been on the receiving end of Azzi’s annoyance and exasperation and impatience, plenty of times, but this is the first time Azzi has been really, truly angry, and honestly, it’s quite scary.

“I didn’t say anything the rest of the team doesn’t already know! What, you think no one else has noticed that you’re introverted?” She sounds high-pitched and off-kilter, completely affected. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re not better than the rest of us because you keep to yourself, Fudd.”

“I didn’t ask for your help last night, Paige.” Azzi turns away, but not quick enough for Paige to miss the way her eyes glisten, wet with unshed tears. “Or your pity.”

“I wasn’t trying to pity you,” the older girl says. “I was trying not to be a total jackass for once.” She shakes her head. “Big mistake.”

“It’s just like you to do that.” There’s a sort of quiet fury radiating off the dark haired girl now, and Paige doesn’t really know how to deal with that. “To wipe my tears, play savior, then go around bragging to everyone that you finally got through to me.”

“Jesus, you really think I’d do that? That I’d use what you told me just to score points?” She sounds more shrilly than she’d intended, so she takes a beat to calm herself down. “Honestly, I shouldn’t even be surprised. You’ve always been set out to think the worst of me.”

Azzi shakes her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m unbelievable? I’m not the one who heard one comment out of context and decides I’m a bitch with a savior complex.”

“That doesn’t sound too far off,” Azzi scoffs.

“You wanna know what I actually said? Instead of accusing me for shit I would never do?” When Azzi remains silent, Paige steps forward, trying to ignore the sweat still beading on the younger girl’s collarbone, the rise and fall of her chest, the sharpness of her uplifted jaw. “All I said is that you’ve been keeping to yourself lately. I didn’t say shit about anything else.” Her finger jabs into Azzi’s chest, sending her stumbling back.

An angry huff leaves Azzi’s mouth. “You’re still the most infuriating person I’ve ever met.”

“At least I’m not the coldest.” Paige responds sharply. “At least I’m not afraid to feel something, or let someone in every once in a while.”

“Feeling something is different from begging for others’ attention.” She flicks her eyes. “I don’t have to be the loudest person in the room to feel like I belong.” The words hang in the room, sharp and unfiltered, targeted, and Paige flinches.

There’s silence between them, suffocating silence, and Azzi sits down on the bench, head dropping in her hands.

Paige turns her back, pretending to rummage through her locker, pretending to be busy, pretending to be unaffected, pretending that those words hadn’t stung, hadn’t hit home. But god, she’s always pretending when it comes to Azzi, and she’s so fucking sick of it. “You know I didn’t tell them, right?” Her question comes out soft, aching, so quiet she thinks Azzi couldn’t have heard her.

“Yeah.” A strangled sound. “I know.”

Paige turns around. Azzi’s eyes are closed, head tipped against the wall as her hands hang limply, helplessly in her lap. She looks defeated, exhausted, like the world has taken too much from her. The furrow in the space between her brows that never seems to go away is more pronounced than usual, as if it’s etched into her skin now. Paige swallows at the sight, and her legs begin moving on their own accord, taking steps until she’s standing between Azzi’s legs. Azzi’s eyes flicker open, and she shifts subtly, spreading her legs ever so slightly to let Paige stay. Paige is so close she can hear, can see her breathing—and the fact that it changes from slow, deep breaths into uneven, shallow, pants. “Then why are you still acting like you hate me?” Paige murmurs, head tilted, eyes searching for a question even she doesn’t know the answer to.

“You make it hard not to.”

A knot forms in her throat. “Then stop letting me in.”

Azzi snorts. “I’m not.” The way she says it, so dismissive and snide, when it’s the complete opposite of the truth, has Paige clenching her fists.

“You won’t get anywhere by shutting people out.”

“I don’t want anywhere,” Azzi says, voice low and scratchy. Her eyes open, meeting Paige’s in a piercing stare. “Not with you.”

Paige shrugs, half in disbelief, half in exasperated surrender. Steps away. Returns back to her locker, turning her back once again. “If that’s what makes you feel better, then keep lying to yourself, Azzi.”

༉‧₊˚✧

“You good?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Azzi says. Sam looks taken aback by her sudden sharpness, and she sighs. She hasn’t meant to be so harsh, especially not when her closest friend in the team, who’s been there for her through everything. “Sorry,” she apologizes. “Been a long day, but yeah, I’m fine.”

“Alrighttttt.” Sam says hesitantly, clearly not believing her. “Cuz everyone heard y’all fighting in the locker room.”

Azzi’s head snaps towards her. “You heard what we said?”

“Nah, couldn’t decipher it. Believe me, we tried,” Sam snickers. “Just heard a lot of yelling.”

Azzi sighs, stepping aside to let her friend board the bus first. “Whatever. I’m over it.”

“Well, if you’re so over it…” Sam plops down in the seat next to Jordan. “You won’t mind if I sit here?”

“Why would I mind-,” Azzi looks up, giving the bus a quick scan and internally groaning when she realizes the only empty seat left is next to Paige. “You actually suck.”

“Have fun,” Sam giggles.

She hovers over Paige, who’s watching a movie intently on her phone, a little awkwardly. She flicks the older girl in the head. “Move,” she demands.

Paige pauses whatever she’s watching and looks up, not bothering to hide the disgust on her face when she registers who she’s talking to. “You sitting next to me?” she asks, shifting her backpack to take up the empty seat, as if Azzi can’t see with her own two eyes that it’s unoccupied.

“I’m sure as hell not sitting on the ground for three hours.”

Paige crosses her arms. “I kinda got my stuff, here, so.”

Azzi reaches over and plucks the background before dropping it very indelicately on the ground. “Not anymore.”

Muttering under her breath, Paige sidles over to the window seat. Azzi sits down, purposefully jabbing her elbow into the older girl’s rib her as she settles in.

Paige turns her movie back on, but she can’t really focus when Azzi keeps shifting next to her. “Yo, can you stop moving?”

“I wouldn’t need to move if you’d stop manspreading,” Azzi returns, knocking her knee against Paige’s in an effort to steal more space. It sorta backfires, though, because Paige’s leg is weirdly warm and soft against her own, and for some reason it kinda makes it hard for Azzi to think clearly.

They’re an hour in when Paige’s phone dies. It’s not really a surprise, since she’s been on it the entire afternoon, but then she realizes she left her charger in her suitcase, which is currently beneath her in the undercarriage of the bus, and now she has nothing to do.

“Hey.” She taps Azzi on the shoulder, who pointedly ignores her as she keeps typing on her phone. “Fudd.”

Azzi finally turns to look at her. “You got an extra charger? My phone’s out.” She only gets a shake of the head before Azzi returns her attention back to texting, and Paige groans, slamming her head back against the seat.

Time ticks by in a slow haze, and Paige can only stare at half dead vegetation and the occasional horse for only so long until she’s losing her mind.

“You got games on your phone?” She asks hopefully. Maybe Azzi will have Subway Surfers or Geometry Dash or something of that kind. Maybe she’ll even let her get a turn. But Azzi only glares at her before physically turning her back and facing the aisle.

She takes out a couple of pencils and begins to drum on the foldout table in front of her. She’s getting into the groove, creating a pretty sick beat, before her pencils are taken from her. She watches, mouth agape, as Azzi tosses them into the trash bin across the aisle without even giving her a glance.

“Those pencils cost money,” she interjects, but Azzi only rolls her eyes. It’s starting to piss Paige off that Azzi refuses to even speak a word to her, so she spends the next half hour being as annoying as possible, loudly smacking her gum and manspreading and playing with the cap of her water bottle. Unfortunately, Azzi remains silent, only giving Paige little glares. “You’re really committed to the whole silent treatment thing, huh?” Paige asks once Azzi tosses her phone in her backpack and reclines her seat, clearly ready to take a nap.

“I'm trying to enjoy the one peaceful moment I get when you're not talking.” Azzi says, and Paige turns around, surprised she got a response this time. Azzi doesn’t open her eyes, giving Paige the opportunity to really look at her. It’s not something she allows herself to do often, half because Azzi would look at her even more weirdly if she did, half because it always creates this funky sort of feeling in her that makes her nervous and hyper all at once.

Azzi opens her eyes suddenly, and Paige quickly curls into the window, trying to play it as nonchalant as possible. “Were you staring at me?”

“No.” Paige responds too quickly.

“I opened my eyes and you were basically on top of me.”

Paige looks out the glass. Suddenly the half dead vegetation doesn’t look so boring after all. “Well, I wasn’t staring.”

“You’re annoying and you’re creepy.” Azzi fixes her neck pillow around her head and relaxes back into her seat once again. For some reason, Paige’s eyes revert back to trace down the slope of her nose, the sharpness of her cheekbones, the thickness of her full black lashes. There’s something about the way sun lights up the younger girl’s features, the way she’s so effortlessly and achingly beautiful, that makes Paige want to reach out and touch her, to make sure she’s real, to make sure— “Definitely staring at me.” Paige’s stare flicks up from pouty lips to smug brown eyes that are open. Wide open. And looking at her.

“Whatever,” she says, unable to formulate a witty response. Nice going, she thinks to herself. This time, she turns away and really does focus on the passing scenery, and it’s not long before she starts to nod off.

༉‧₊˚✧

Azzi wakes up to soft blonde hair and the scent of strawberries. She nestles in closer, the warmth calling to her, before she realizes who exactly she’s lying on and immediately jerks away.

Paige looks at her, unfazed. “Morning, princess,” she says, her voice a little scratchy from sleep, and Azzi flushes.

“How long was I—” she gestures to Paige’s shoulder.

“Cuddling me like a toy and and talking in your sleep?” Paige’s smirk is so self-satisfied that Azzi wants to grab her from the shoulders and shake her. “Only for an hour.”

Azzi leans away, as if creating distance will erase the fact that she just spent half the car ride sleeping on the blonde. “Well, you’re really bony,” she lies.

“I don’t know, you seemed pretty comfortable,” Paige grins. Honestly, it’d only been forty minutes of Azzi treating her like her own personal pillow, but it was funny seeing Azzi getting all flustered. She’d known because she’d been asleep for the first twenty, then woken up to a weight on her shoulder, a soft cheek on her bare shoulder. Frozen, she’d almost shook the younger girl awake before deciding against it. It had been a record for Paige, staying still for the twenty minutes after, trying not to wake the younger girl. But the frantic look on Azzi’s face when she’d woken up had made it all worth it.

“You weren’t,” Azzi says. “Worst sleep of my life.”

Paige snorts, not buying a word the younger girl says. “You drool when you sleep.”

Azzi blushes fiercely this time, crimson spreading across her face, and Paige is caught off guard by how much she likes it.

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi #paige x azzi #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #fic

379 notes · View notes

hysteria-things · 1 year ago

Text

MY EYES ONLY

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a look into chris’s my eyes only…

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, p in v, unprotected sex (nuh uh!), swearing, choking, stomach bulge, oral (female & male receiving), praising, degradation, daddy kink, jealousy, squirting, spanking, possessiveness, overstimulation, dumbification, cream pie, semi-public, ROUGH

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 888

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: sorry for all the chris stuff lately i’m just so down bad for him but matt will make an appearance (hopefully) soon!

also… the last one will be turned into a fic😉

mattress digging deeper into your back every second, the hand around your throat only tightens. your small palm doesn’t even fit fully around his wrist. moans and pleas of ‘don’t stop!’ aren’t the only sounds echoing off the walls. the headboard bangs rapidly against the wall, a chuckle coming from chris every so often at your fucked-out state.

you two were extra horny this day, it seems, and of course, you had to take advantage of it. the video is taken from your drooling mouth down to the bulge in your stomach, chris quite literally balls deep inside of you. tits bouncing at the rapid pace he’s going, your nails dig deeper into his flesh. “yes! yes! yes!” you scream like a mantra, cum then coating his dick.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

to him, his finger slipped and “accidentally” pressed the post button. it starts casually with the desktop displaying fortnite, then he flips the camera to his face. a smug look is plastered on it before the camera flips again.

this time, it’s of you — under the desk with your boyfriend’s cock stuffed in your mouth. his other hand is wrapped around your locks in a makeshift ponytail, controlling the way you bob your head at a decent rhythm. all you have to do is sit there and take it.

looking at the camera with tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you smile, spit dribbling from the sides of your lips. he pushes your head down further to where the tip of your nose touches his pelvis, a gulp and gag going through his headphones before his face comes into view one last time. chris smiles smugly, with a caption that reads: we’re live! come hang out :)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

legs draped over his shoulders, your fingers massage lightly at the brunette between your plush thighs. the phone is propped up on the nightstand to make sure your entire body is in view. his tongue laps agonizingly slow on your puffy cunt, but it feels so good.

you’ve been a good girl all week; no attitude, no talking back, good manners, etc. you were in for a reward. this is your reward. he wants to eat you out like no other. until you see stars and that’s it.

soft moans fill the air, eyes fluttering closed and your mind blank. just how chris likes it.

growing closer to your high, you get impatient before rutting your hips forward, your moans growing louder. he hums disapprovingly, leaving your dripping hole empty. “no need to get naughty now, baby. i thought you were a good girl for me?”

“i am.” you whimper. “i’m sorry, daddy.”

thrusting his hips subconsciously into the mattress because of the nickname, he delves back in to suck on your clit. that alone washes the first of many orgasms through you. you end up passing out at the end.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

an argument sparked this beauty, which is also chris’s personal favorite. for context, you guys argued over something stupid before going to a party. because you’re so petty, you decided to purposely talk with a random guy at the function to get chris’s blood boiling. giving him those ‘fuck me’ eyes from across the room.

before you knew it, you were holding on for dear life on a pillow in a random bedroom he dragged you into. the velvet dress you’re wearing is bunched above your ass, and your panties are ripped in half and thrown to the floor. crying out apologies into the blanket is no use, skin stinging with his handprint on it. the video is hard to make out because of how fast the phone is shaking in his hand.

“fucking brat.” he spanks you again, a sob leaving your throat. “you think he can fuck you stupid like this? huh?”

his hand makes contact at least three more times during that sentence, and your body shakes uncontrollably. he already ripped two orgasms out of you. “that’s right. take it just like that — whose pussy is this?”

“yours.” you exhale, squirting without warning from the overwhelming pleasure and penetration.

gripping the top of your hair, he lifts your head. “scream it, slut. they can’t hear you.”

“yours, chris! it’s all yours!” you gasp, knuckles white from your grasp on the sheets.

looking down at the way his cock brutally thrusts in and out of your tight pussy, his jaw slacks at the sight. you clench around him as his tip repeatedly hits your cervix, eyes rolling when you cum harder than ever before.

he arches your back further to get as deep as he can with a grunt. his hips stop, long ropes of cum spilling the farthest it goes into your womb. pulling out, he takes two fingers to help his seed stay inside you, the rest dripping down your legs the rest of the night.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

it’s dark. the photo is barely visible but visible at the same time if you look at it long enough. the table in front of you has a reflection of the moon, your tits that are painted white take up half of the screen. the other half is of your face, a smile peeking through your lip bite. a tatted arm snakes around your neck, the selfie angled up high.

be careful leaving your things behind, chris. the text says.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut

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lostintransist · 5 months ago

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Can't Catch Me | A König One-Shot

König runs into a spot of trouble with the mob. But wouldn't you know it, his favorite barista is heading home and is willing to play along.

For @backseatsoldier *hugs, kisses, and hopefully König spends the night*

CW: 18+ Minors do not interact, kissing, ass smacking, suggestive themes

You stretched your neck as you walked the final stretch toward home. Two jobs, an early morning barista shift followed by a break, and then a half shift at a call center always left you drained. But between the two schedules, you had time to do two classes a day or settle at the school library and bust out homework before it was due. No matter the time the sun had always hidden itself away before you could leave the call center.

The shitty and small bathtub in your flat and a bath bomb someone had given you for Christmas two years back called your name. The well of the tub was so thin that water got trapped behind you as you emptied it. You forgot that until you went to stand up and a flood of water rushes over your legs and toes.

You are flung, quite literally, from your thoughts when you meet a wall nose first. Rubbing your nose you step back and look up, and up, and up. Oh! You know this wall! He comes by your coffee shop regularly enough and always gives K as his name.

“Oh! Iced chai with two espresso, sorry about that. I should have been watching where I was going.”

The tall, broad man glances behind him. His face is hidden by a surgical mask, as always. When he glances back to you a spark of something, something concerning, lights in his eyes.

“You know me, ja?” At your confused nod he continues, “How much I pay you pretend we together?”

Blinking rapidly is your only response before your mouth forms a “wha” shape.

“Five hundred enough?”

“Uh-u-sure?”

He rips the mask off, shoving it deep in his pocket before grabbing your right hand in his left and circling a long arm around you, caging you between the combined length of your arms.

“How was work love?”

He stares down at you expectantly. The sound of pounding feet reaches your ears, the volume rising with each step.

“Honestly love? It was exhausting.”

His eyes get wider the closer the footsteps get. You wrench the hat off your head, ignoring the hat hair you undoubtedly have. Slapping it down over his massive skull you have never been more thankful for what your mother always complained of as your ‘overly large, vagina-tearing noggin’. It’s a bit of a tight fit but the layer of change helps his shoulders relax a fraction.

“What made it so bad?”

You start walking as he continues the charade, tugging him along despite his clear resistance.

“So, you know how my boss is a complete asshole right?” He grunts and you continue, “Well he just hired his daughter to be the office manager, which first off is clearly a nepo choice but I’m just a part-time employee what the hell can I say about it?”

Two men dressed all in black and guns on their hips race past the two of you with barely a glance.

“Not much,” he agrees, ear tipped toward the retreating footsteps. “How much to go to your apartment until I can get a ride here?”

“Your name.”

He looks down at you, brows pinched together under the brim of your borrowed hat.

“König.”

“Thank you, König. Yes, you can come and hang out at my apartment until you get your ride scheduled.”

The stress from his shoulders and the pinched look on his face disappeared.

“Now tell me more, I thought you worked at the coffee shop.” He falls into step with you now, slower shorter steps keeping up with your slightly elongated to accommodate for him.

“I do, I work the early shift at the café and then have a few hours off for school and homework before I do my late-night job so I can make rent.” Bumping his thigh with your hip you continue, “What do you do other than running from gangsters?”

“Mobsters,” he countered, “Blow stuff up, mostly.”

“Mmm. Quite impressive.”

The sound of footsteps, speeding back toward you sent both your hackles up.

König leaned down into your ear, “How much to kiss you?”

Mind can’t keep up with all these jumps and you spit out the first number word you can think of.

“Hundred!”

He lets out a small laugh, pulling you tighter to him and moving you both forward as he directs your steps closer to the wall. Your back hits the wall as the men come into view. König’s lips are on your before you can think of much else.

Could a brain give a blue screen of death? That’s the only way you can describe the complete lack of function your brain produces when his lips meet yours. Movement happens by need alone and that need has you pulling him closer, fingers digging into the flesh at his waist as you lick the seam of his lips. His forearm lands next to your head as his knees buckle slightly.

The footsteps slow as they pass you but the wanton, and frankly, too graphic to be outside of a bedroom or a porno sounds shoot erupts out of you, sending them scurrying away. Some masculine cologne sweeps into your brain, killing off the last of your brain cells. You would climb him like a tree given half a chance.

“Six hundred,” he whispers as he pulls back slightly.

Eyes unfocused, you blindly reach out and grab him by the collar. Dragging him back to your lips you catch his lower lip between your teeth, pulling gently as you lean away. The tiniest sound escapes from deep in his throat, a spear thrown that landed directly in your needy bits.

“Seven hundred,” you breathed on his lips.

Breaths mingling König watches you watch him. The condensation of his breath warms and cools your face.

“Those kisses are worth a hundred a piece,” he whispers as if worship is his primary language.

Movement from the edge of your vision alerts you to the mob’s incoming presence.

“Pick me up, keep pretending. I can direct you to my apartment,” an edge of panic creeps into your voice as you force your eyes to not move from his.

He does as you command, hands so wide they nearly span the width of your thighs as he lifts you, knees hugging his waist and ankles locking behind his back.

The giggle that escapes you is real. You were too solid for nearly any other man to hoist you like this. He settles both arms under your butt, holding you close. Flopping onto his shoulders, kissing up and down his neck you count the doorways until you see the one before yours and bite gently on König’s earlobe. He pulls you tighter when you start to murmur.

“This next door is mine. They are still following but looking way less suspiciously at us. Smack my ass.”

König didn’t need to be told twice. The crack of his large hand across your backside made the men following flinch and turn away, confident now that the man they had followed half a block was not the person they were looking for.

You didn’t mean to, but your jaw tightened, pinching his earlobe tighter as you whine into his ear. He let out a groan that would haunt your masturbation sessions until you reached death, dildo in hand.

Letting go of his ear you rest back on his shoulder. He rubs out the sting of his smack; your inner walls clench at the care.

“First door is unlocked. Head to the top floor. I’m in six.”

He isn’t breathing hard when he tops the several flights of stairs, even despite the additional weight of your body.

When he lets you down it is with a slide down the length of his body, a slight bulge at his zipper confirms you weren’t the only one affected by the shared kisses. You spin around, focusing diligently on the task of unlocking the door. Throwing the door wide you step in and gesture to the space.

“Get comfortable, call your ride. I need to change and get ready for bed. I have to be awake in five hours for work,” you don’t turn as you stalk further into your small apartment.

Shutting the bedroom door you cover your mouth with both hands as you force the deepest breaths you can manage through your nose. After the tenth deep breath, you are calm enough to change. Your long pants and ugliest hoodie are your shields. A soft, wireless bra you pray is enough to keep the ladies from trying to claw their way to say hello and a clean, dry pair of underwear is the last of the changes.

Stepping from the bedroom you find König staring out the window and down at the street.

“Wanna watch a show while you wait for your ride?” You twist the inner portion of your hoodie pocket around one finger.

“Ja,” he nods and settles into one corner of the couch with three massive steps.

Turning on something calming, settling yourself on the other side of the couch, a pillow wedged underneath your head. You are drifting when his phone buzzes once.

He curses in what sounds like German before tapping your leg with two fingers.

“My ride is delayed. Can I purchase more kisses?”

Any sleep that might have been gathering fled like birds as a toddler ran full force toward them. You popped upright, looking over every bit of the man you could see in the shifting light of the TV.

The serious cast to his face decided your answer for you. Crawling into his lap, not unlike the way he carried you home less than an hour ago, you settle yourself pussy to penis. The layers of clothing between you would not prevent you from enjoying this stolen bit of time.

“König, I am going to do my best to bankrupt you,” your fingers creep up his arms as his hands settle on your waist.

“Gut.”

No more words are shared, only base noises, keening cries, and the wet sounds of sloppy kisses.

Preemptive tags because I know how much these two people love König: @demothers-empty-blog @machveil

Masterlist

#cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #konig x female reader #konig call of duty #konig #konig cod #konig x reader #konig x you #lostintransit writing #lostintransit

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luvrxbunny · 2 years ago

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little spider

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Prompt: Innocence

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader knows nothing about sex or feelings of arousal, clothed clit-rubbing? cum in pants, small feelings of embarrassment (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 3.3k

A/N: sorry im late but im kinda proud of this one so i hope it was worth the wait! <3

Miguel didn’t think he’d end up in this position, nowhere in his wildest, most perverted fantasies did he think that this would actually be the outcome of him recruiting you but… here we are.

You were assigned by the higher-ups to learn from him, they thought you had potential, and honestly? Miguel hated you when he met you, he felt like they were punishing him for something, that assigning him this raw recruit was just a flaunt of power. You didn't even have a suit he had to make you one, a trial suit first, to make sure all your vitals were good, to track your movements and decide what suit material would be best- or if you would have a digital one like him.

During the weeks of his monitoring of your vitals, he began to grow a bit fond of you. You were an adorable recruit and eager to please, you were thoughtful and always gave your all, something he really appreciates. One other thing he noticed about you… your dopamine levels were elevated around him, along with your estradiol and testosterone. He ignores it when he’s writing his reports, he tells himself that he doesn’t report it because the higher-ups don't need to know, not because he knows they’d make you transfer… He should’ve requested it the first time he noticed it but the thought of you, his sweet, innocent spider, all turned on just from being around him? It ignited something in him.

He updated your suit, saying that the data he was receiving wasn't enough, he made you wear the suit as he replaced the chip and tried to hide the smile in his voice when your spine straightened under his touch. The new chip could give him real-time tracking of all your vitals, but he set his watch to alert him anytime certain hormones spiked… estradiol and testosterone. So he conducted a little experiment over the following weeks, he’d lean into you more when you speak, holding your eye contact, he even broke out the smirk he used to use on girls when he was younger, and it worked on you.

His watch vibrated every time he was near you, if he walked up to you, it started being an alert to when you were near, it’d go off before you’ve even approached him, he’d walk into a room and it’d go off before he even saw you. It started to have an effect on him, he started to feel a spark in his stomach every time it went off, every time he’d meet your eyes and you’d have that expression he’d grown to know so well. That weak, almost pleading- yet confused look in your eyes and the sheer panic before tearing them away from his. He started having to grip whatever was in his hands as tightly as he could to control himself when you’re breathing would stutter after he complimented you on your work.

He started getting hard reviewing your logs after spending the day with you, watching your heart rate stay elevated, spiking along with your hormones, he can see your breathing pattern, and how irregular it is compared to when you’re not with him. How high your body temperature was… the main areas of heat. On his more weak days, he’s gotten himself off to the diagram of you, with the burning red spot between your legs as the focus of his fantasies.

Now you’re here, avoiding his gaze as his watch vibrates like crazy. “Miguel?” He looks at you again, trying to keep his gaze neutral, hopefully, to make this a bit easier on you… and him. “Yes?”

His voice is smooth as cocoa butter and you can feel his gaze burning into you. He started this heat inside you, one you’d never encountered before. It starts when you see him in the morning and doesn’t stop until you struggle to sleep- or at least it used to. But recently it’s been non-stop, a constant distraction that you can’t pinpoint, it feels like it’s in your hips, stomach, chest, and thighs all at once. It feels like it’s in his breath when it fans over your face, it's in his eyes when they lock with yours, and somehow on his fingertips when they brush over any part of you. You’ve spent hours a night trying to figure out what you can do about it, you’ve thought about even asking Lyla but decided the risk of her telling Miguel was far too great.

This past week it’s just been building on it’s self, almost unbearable with Miguel’s new immersive training. He takes you away to some deserted, closed-off place and trains you with no distractions, giving you nothing to focus on other than him and forcing him to give all his attention to you. Miguel’s attention, his gaze is what causes the most… pain. That’s what it’s become, a dull, numb, thrumming at the base of your stomach, like an itch you can’t scratch that just becomes a nuisance. You couldn’t handle it anymore and if you asked Lyla she’d just tell Miguel- so why not just ask him directly?

So here you are, avoiding his gaze because you’ve spent the entire day with him, building enough fire inside you- you don’t need to add any more. “I think…” You take a breath and turn to him a bit before forcing the words out. “There’s something wrong with me.” He puts his clipboard down, his concern, and his thick, veiny hand that comes into view piles onto the heat over-taking your bloodstream. He takes his glasses off and sits back in his chair, reaching his leg out to pull a chair beside you closer to him. You dare a glance at him and try not to collapse at his gaze, at the way his hair moves over his face for a moment as he motions for you to sit in the provided chair.

You sigh and sit down, your legs pressed tightly together, your palms resting on your thighs and your eyes focused on the back of your hands. You stay silent, your mind racing, your body warming further at the feeling of his eyes on you. “What’s wrong, little spider?” You suppress a shiver at the nickname as goosebumps rise over your skin, it’s been a problem since he picked it. “I’m hot.” The words shoot out of your mouth before you can second-guess them again. Miguel chuckles a bit, sending embarrassment through your body, sits back in his chair, and crosses his arms, prompting you to go on.

“I can’t fix it. There’s… someone.” Miguel pretends he doesn’t notice the way your eyes flicker to him. “For some reason, something about them just- “ You pause for a moment, truly baffled by the way you feel, trying to find some way to explain it. “They just do something to me and it won’t stop.” Your words start to sound frantic, a bit panicked. Miguel leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees to examine your expression. “It’s like there's a low- like a low vibration- or a frequency? Like the ones that are so low you can barely hear but you can sorta feel them? It’s like that but- but deep inside me.”

Your eyes close and eyebrows furrow as you describe the feeling to him. He tries to keep his breathing even as he hardens uncontrollably under the suit. You don’t even realize what you’re confessing to him. “Like it’s in my bones, Miguel.” You add emphasis, your hands digging into the material of your suit before raising your head to meet his eyes, hoping he understands the state you’re in. He’s almost dizzy at the way his blood rushes to his cock. He holds your gaze and tries to convey a baffled, thoughtful expression as he tries to calm himself.

“That’s- That’s odd. Yeah, um.” He takes a few deep breaths before sitting back again, unable to stay in your space any longer. “Do- Can you tell me who’s causing it? Perhaps it’s a side effect of their powers?” Your spine straightens and you shake your head at him gently. You twist your fingers in the fabric of your suit and your feet play with each other on the lab floor. “H-have you heard of any powers like that?” You ask him, a hopeful look in your eyes.

Clever girl.

“No, I haven't.” He sits back, spreads his legs, and runs his hands down his thighs and back with a sigh. He holds back a smirk when his watch vibrates and he hears you take a sharp breath. “I- I don’t know what to do anymore. It- I can barely sleep.” You sound distraught, broken, and tired. He’d be the messed up one if he didn't help you… Right?

“I mean… I can try running some tests?” He offers, he keeps his tone light, trying to keep his dark desires off your radar. You perk up at his offer, already up and out of your seat, standing in front of him with a smile. He keeps his eyes on you, trying to ignore the way your scent is assaulting his nose, giving away how badly you need him. “You think we could?”

He nods and stands up, walking over to his lab table and clearing a few things. His head is already running wild with fantasies, ideas of what he could do to you, what he could teach you, how good he could make you feel. “Yeah, of course. C’mere, pequeña araña” You were already walking to him but your pace stutters and his watch vibrates when the nickname slips out. He truly didn’t mean to, he had gotten a bit too deep in his fantasies, and when your voice broke through he didn’t get fully pulled out. He’s never called you that in Spanish, not to your face at least, it’s fallen from his lips a few times before though, when he’s alone with his hand wrapped around his cock. But your reaction dissuades any fear that had shot through him before and he can’t help the smirk that makes its way on his face.

You’re standing silently beside him, wringing your hands together and he doesn’t think you even notice the way your thighs keep clenching together. “Get on the table.” His tone is teasing, a grin on his face as you jump and scramble onto the tabletop. You lay on your back and look over at Miguel, feeling that heat rage through you at the look on his face. It’s dark and- wanting. It’s confusing.

He takes a deep breath and your fingers try to dig into the metal table top as he walks to you. “Okay. I’m going to examine your body a bit, press into some muscles, some pressure points to see if maybe it’s a physical trigger. Is that okay with you?” Your chest is already rising and falling more rapidly at the thought, the promise of Miguel’s hands on you. You nod at him stiffly, trying to stay normal and calm as he holds your eye contact, nodding along with you. A small smile graces his face before he walks around and presses his palm into your hairline, pushing your head down to rest on the table as he stands north of you.

His hands press into your shoulders and your eyes shut tight. He can feel all your muscles tense and his watch vibrates, he sneaks a peak at his and sees the huge spike in almost all your vitals. His cock twitches in his suit at your obvious need but he brushes it aside, if he rushes into this he might scare you off and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if that happens. He may lose his mind. He moves his hands to your biceps, massaging them tightly as little whines slip into your breaths, only audible to his ears.

He walks back to the side of the tables and your eyes stay shut. He massages the softness of your sides and his breathing kicks up a bit once he gets to your hips. He takes his time with them, admiring the way you fit into his hands and how you subconsciously tilt them toward him. His thighs jump as his cock begins to leak, dripping precum down them. He takes a deep, shaky breath and forces himself to move on. He forced himself to move on, he was trying to take it slow, hopefully, you’d realize where you need him and ask for it. But your thighs spread open when he massages the outside and his hands dive for the inner before he can think it through.

You gasp, you sit up with your eyes wide and your hands gripping his wrists. You don’t do anything though, he expects you to pull his hands away but it feels more like you’re holding him there, stopping- or attempting to stop him from pulling away. So of course he doesn't. He stares into your eyes as you search his, trying to figure out if he realizes the way that made you feel, if your cover was blown, if he wants to stop but he looks expectant, like he’s waiting for something. So you loosen your grip. “That’s- I think that’s- ” You’re nodding at him lightly, hoping he understands what you’re trying to say because for some reason your brain has stopped working.

“Yeah?” Your heart stutters at his tone and the tilt of his head as he says it. Your thighs tense around his hand for a moment before you try to calm down, un-tense them but they can’t help the way they tremble with anticipation. You’re nodding at him more frantically and his eyelids flutter. “Okay.” He takes one hand out from between your thighs and rests it on your lower back as his other hand keeps massaging, slowly moving up your inner thigh and the sensations grow more intense the higher he gets.

Your eyes shut and your hands grip his wrists again, not pulling away, just holding him. Your eyes shut and your hips tilt into his hand, getting him so close to your pussy that he can feel the heat radiating off of her. You feel some sort of shame twinge in your belly, dampening the more intense feelings that Miguel was causing. What if this was wrong? What if you aren’t supposed to feel like this with him, without him knowing… Maybe you should stop.

Miguel moves further up and all those thoughts scatter from your head immediately. His watch vibrates again and a noise shoots out of your mouth- one you’ve never heard before as your body folds over and your head rests on his shoulder. You shut your eyes tight and take a slow, deep breath. “Sorry. Sorry, I-” He cuts you off. “It’s okay. That’s why I’m here, right?” He’s nodding at you, comforting and reassuring as his hand leaves your back to cradle your head. “You’re okay. I wanna help you, cariño.” Another noise leaves you at the nickname and his hand grips into your hair for a moment before sliding down to your neck and pulls your head away from his shoulder. He pushes your head against his for a moment, letting out a soft groan before letting go and pushing his fingers against your plush lips.

“How’s that, honey?” His hand settles back on your lower back as you whine and your hands move up his arm, gripping his biceps now and pulling yourself closer to him. “Miguel.” His eyes roll back at how you sound, desperate, breathless, and gone. Your hips are grinding into his fingers and they aren’t even on your clit yet. They’re pressing against your hole through your lips and your suit, he’s keeping his fingertips flat against you so he doesn’t slip inside.

He’s trying to ignore the mess he’s making in his pants, watching your tense face change into a relieved one, your eyebrows pulling inward as your lips part beautifully, releasing a shaky moan as he reangles his fingers to your clit. His hands are shaking as he tries to calm himself down, one of your hands slides up his arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake before gripping onto his shoulder and pulling him down, closer to your face. His eyes are fixed on your expression, taking everything in, every twitch and quiver, the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips before a whimper punches out of you.

You’re ruining him and you’re none the wiser. Your hand slides up to his neck and you push your forehead against his, like he did earlier. His eyes roll back before he forces them to you again, moving his fingers over you clit faster when your thighs begin to shake around his wrist. “I think-” Your voice comes out as a whimper and he groans into you. Your fingers grip into his hair and his cock cries against him. “Something… Miguel.”

The way you say his name fucks with him. It’s prettier than he ever could’ve imagined, he has to lean forward and press his throbbing cock against the edge of the table for relief. You’ve got him feeling like he could die, like he could implode if he doesn’t have you, if after this you realize what you need but get it somewhere else? It’ll be over for him. Your hand readjusts its grip in his hair, becoming more frantic as your spine straightens and your thighs close on his hands. “Miguel? I-” You cut yourself off with a moan and your head falls to his shoulder again, blocking your face from his view.

“No, no.” He brings his hand to the back of your neck again. “Let me see, amor.” He pulls you away from his shoulder and you moan at the nickname. Once again, it didn’t mean to slip out but you’ve got his head so cloudy he can’t help it. You’re moaning his name on repeat, like a warning and he’s pulsing at the thought, the promise of getting to see you cum, for him. His eyes can’t look away from you, he can’t see anything but your face, the way your brows furrow as you tense, and your nails dig into his arms, leaving reminders for later. He watches how you bite your lip before your jaw drops into an ‘O’ shape and his name falls from your lips one more time as a debauched cry.

He keeps his eyes open, watching you cum for him, how your lips form around his name again and again. He wants to collapse, fall to his knees with how much you’re turning him on but he needs to watch you. He forces himself to keep his eyes on you, ignoring the way they want to roll back at how he’s flooding his pants. His hips twitch against the edge of the table as he cums for you, with you. His mind zeros into the way he can feel your clit pulsing underneath his finger tips, how breathless you sound, trying to keep up with the noises he’s forcing from you. His stomach tenses painfully as his cock unloads more cum onto himself. You sound like an angel, crying out for him. He can’t help the way he dives for you, pulling you in to kiss him and swallowing every moan you’ll give him.

You whine into his mouth as his fingers slow down over your clit, your other hand meets the first in his hair and you keep his lips on yours. He keeps kissing you until you calm down and your breathing evens out. His hand comes from between your thighs and rubs your legs until you pull back from his lips. You have a bashful, embarrassed look on your face and it brings the largest smile that you’ve ever seen to his face. “Was that okay, pequeña araña?” You whine and pull him in for a hug, nodding into his shoulder as he chuckles and wraps his arms around you as you begin to giggle against him.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

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lockeswoodss · 3 months ago

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A Guiding Hand

!!!!!!!!!!MDNI!!!!!!!!!

A/N: Dr. Robby teaches reader how to masturbate. That's it, that's the whole fic. This is a little long for a drabble, but too short to be a full-fledged one-shot. I'm probably gonna write a continuation of this later this week. I usually write smut for animes, hopefully, this is okay 😅 This is my first attempt at writing fanfic for western media. I just wanted to post something before school starts up again tomorrow.

CW: Guided Masturbation, Daddy Kink, Fingering, (I can't think of anything else, LMK if I missed something I'm tired lol.)

“Fuck,” you panted after another failed attempt at making yourself cum. You were so close, before the inevitable moment where you get too in your head and the pleasure slips through your fingers. You glare at your image reflecting back at you.

“That was better,” Robby husked in your ear encouragingly. You groaned in response, throwing your head back. At this point, you’d lost the number of attempts. You could feel the shake of his chest against your back as he let out a laugh. The scratch of his beard against your right shoulder, where he hooked his chin, and his arm wrapped around your middle kept you grounded. Your legs were hooked around the outside of his parted thighs, spreading you open to give you a clear view of your slick pussy. Still panting, you let yourself relax back onto his bare chest. Only the thin material of his boxer briefs kept you from what you wanted most. Every twitch of his cock against the small of your back was like a taunt of what you craved but was just out of reach. As subtly as your hazy mind allowed you, you tried to grind back against him under the guise of shifting your weight. In an instant, the arm wrapped around you tightened along with his other hand, stilling your hips. Why did he have to be so goddamn perceptive?

“Baby,” he lightly scolded, “You agreed that you’d only get my cock after you make yourself cum,”

“But, Daddy,” you whined, “I can’t do it, it’s impossible,”

“It’s not impossible, I’ve done it every time we’ve been together,” he gently reminds you, “Sometimes more than once,” he tacked on.

“Brag,” you huffed in response, making eye contact with him through the reflection of your mirror. He let out another soft chuckle at the sight of your pout.

“Okay, how about you try one more time and if you still can’t I’ll make you cum, deal?” he asked.

You nodded, quickly, trying to contain your relief that your release was finally within arm’s reach.

“Words, love,” he reminded you softly.

“Okay,” you nodded, beginning to again reach between your legs to get to your clit.

“This has to be a real attempt, I want you to follow my directions to a T,” he said as he cuffed his hand around your wrist, stilling your movement, “Got that, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you answered with a nod. Up until this point, he had only been making suggestions, but now he was gonna take the reins.

“Alright,” he said against your right ear, “I know you’re already wet,” he could feel your wetness bleeding into his underwear, “But I want to start at the beginning. I want you to run your fingers down your throat slowly, tracing your way down to your chest. Be a good girl and play with your nipples for me.” He prompted.

“’ Kay,” you answer breathlessly, your hands slowly migrating down to your nipples. You tweaked and tugged at your already hardened nipples. Stiff from the faint draft of your room.

“Fuck, good. Can you feel it yet, can you feel that spark in your core?” he asked, his deep voice shooting through you.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whined, continuing to play with your chest until he directed you otherwise.

“I want you to focus on that feeling, forget about cumming, just focus on experiencing that warm feeling.” He directed, “I want you to suck two fingers in your mouth and get them wet like they’re mine.”

In lieu of answering you licked the pointer and middle finger of your dominate hand before sucking them into your mouth. You began to lave at them like you would Robby’s before he’d finger you. You locked eyes with him as you slipped them out of your mouth, now soaked in saliva.

“Good,” he nodded, “I want you to slowly trace up your lower lips from your hole up to your clit, you can give it a few light pets before tracing down back to your core,”

Your breath reverted back to a pant as your fingers lightly swipe at your clit. Your instinct was to press down harder and focus all your attention there, but you begrudgingly follow his directions. If anyone was going to teach you how to cum it’d be him; he had the most experience.

“Fuck, good girl,” he groans, cock pulsing against your lower back, “Now your pussy’s special, you need both clitoral and vaginal stimulation to cum. I want you to slip your fingers into your pussy and curl them against your inner frontal wall. Once you get that down you’re going to start to play with your clit.”

You moan unabashedly at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut as you focus in on the feeling, enjoying the experience more than the end.

“There’s my girl.” He praises, kissing at your throat, nipping here and there to keep his own composure. He wanted nothing more than to flip you over and start fucking you from behind, but it wasn’t the time for that; at least not yet.

“Fuck, Daddy,” you moaned as your hips raised to meet your hands, you shamelessly grinded against your fingers. You were so focused on your pleasure, you missed Robby’s hooded eyes watching you fall apart under his careful instruction. His fingers dug into his thighs as he struggled to hold back from grinding against your ass. He was enraptured by the sight of you fully immersed in pleasure.

“Daddy, fuck, fuck Daddy, Daddy please. Can I cum?” you asked desperately, unfocused eyes meeting his reflection.

“Go ahead, love. You’ve been such a good girl.” He encouraged you, kissing the side of your head. Your thighs shake above his as you moan loudly, working yourself through your orgasm. None of your past attempts compared to the high you felt after your inadvertent edging. Robby pulled you in for a soft kiss as you fell limp against him.

“Color?” he asked softly, after giving you a moment to come down.

“Yellow,” you answered after coming back into your body.

“You want to stop for tonight?” he asked, gently rubbing circles into your hips.

“I never said that,” you said, your eyes meeting his. He knew you were far from done when he clocked the mischievous look in your eyes, “I just need a second.”

“Take all the time you need love,” he replied, cherishing the feeling of your weight against him.

#michael robinavitch #michael robinavitch x reader #the pitt #the pitt fanfiction #Warnings in description #drabble/one shot #cross posted on ao3

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heart-eyed-love · 11 months ago

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Cigarettes, Driving Lessons, And Hurt Feelings

Summary | Eddie gets his feelings hurt when you go to someone else to help teach you how to drive. Even more so when its Steve Harrington.

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to-Lovers, Cursing, mentions of having a period, jealousy, bad driver Eddie (hopefully i didn’t forget anything)

Word count | 3k

Cigarettes.

That was the only thing Eddie thought he’d be getting from the gas station. He didn't expect to be getting his feelings hurt there too.

He was already pulling a cigarette out of the pack once he exited the store. It was hanging loosely from his lips as he began to pull his lighter out, but he was quickly distracted by Steve Harrington's BMW parked across the lot.

He could tell it was Steve’s from the copious amount of times he had seen him come pick up Dustin from hellfire. And he’s definitely heard plenty about him.

Ever since Dustin had joined hellfire Steve has been a recurring topic in his life. Eddie had to sit through many lunch periods with Dustin babbling about how ‘cool’ and ‘badass’ Steve Harrington was. It was beyond annoying to be honest.

It made him more upset to see you so interested in these stories. The idea of one of his closest friends being enamored by the stupid stories of a douche was not something he was very keen on.

And especially since you’re already friends with Robin Buckley, who weirdly had sparked up a friendship with the king of himself. He always wondered if Steve ever tagged along on your outings with Robin.

You hadn’t informed him that he was your designated driver for just about all of them.

He wasn’t entirely sure when Steve started hanging out with all the freaks of Hawkins but he didn’t like the positive attention Steve was suddenly gaining from people who weren’t a part of the dark side.

So Eddie took it upon himself to be a pain in Steve’s ass every time he could.

A shit eating grin spreads across his face as he begins walking up from behind. Putting the cigarette away again.

As he approached the drivers side of the car, he noticed it wasn’t the side of the back of Steve's head he was walking up on. He slowed his pace.

Shit. Maybe this wasn’t his car?

But when the head in the seat moved just enough for Eddie to gauge the fact that it was you his eyes widened for a second.

Since when did you drive?!

Wait- Since when did you hang out with fucking Harrington!?!

The smirk that was once on his face was now lost at the sight of you in Steve’s car. Unfortunately, he had gotten close enough for you to see him.

You turned your head at the sight of someone approaching in your peripheral vision. Surprised to see Eddie slowing his walk once he saw you. You nervously turned your head to Steve in the passenger seat and then back to Eddie, before rolling the window down.

“Uh- hey, Eddie. What’s up?” Your voice came off a little more nervously than you intended and you slightly cringed at yourself.

“Since when did you start driving?” Right to the point, you think. You could tell by the look on his face he was already a bit displeased with the situation at hand.

Eddie had offered to help teach you to drive multiple times, and you were always really grateful for that, even though you denied him every time. Never really explaining to him why not, but he never asked either.

“Yeah, uh- Steve offered to teach me so I took him up on it.” The awkward smile felt even weirder on your face when it’s directed at him. You and Eddie weren’t like this with each other.

Sure maybe at the beginning of your friendship you were awkward with each other, but that was a sweet awkward, this was an uncomfortable one.

Steve's head pops into Eddie's view with an awkward smile.

“Hey, man…” Steve says awkwardly, but somehow he still has that charm to him. Eddie straightens his body out slightly, trying to make himself bigger than he really is. Steve chuckles softly to himself as he leans back into his seat.

The small interaction going unnoticed by you as you fidget with your earring, waiting for Eddie to say something again. He was kind of making you feel like you had done something wrong, maybe you had…

It wasn’t anything personal, if you could have anyone teach you anything, you’d pick Eddie.

But just maybe not for this.

Driving already freaked you out, and it didn’t help that the person who was offering to teach you was probably one of the most hectic drivers you knew.

You honestly had a really hard time believing he actually passed his drivers test. The way he flops you around in the passenger seat as he turns corners was enough to tell you if you were going to be taught how to drive, it wasn’t going to be by him.

“Hey.” Eddie said, eyes flicking to Steve then back to you. You couldn’t tell exactly what he was feeling. It was making you feel weird, it was usually so easy for you to tell. “I’ve told you multiple times I could teach you how to drive.”

You cringe a bit at his tone. And you are only able to come up with a lame excuse as your rebuttal. “Oh, yeah… I forgot…” Shit. You sound so fucking lame right now.

“Yeah, whatever…” He rolls his eyes as he looks over to the side before looking back to you. “I gotta get going, meeting up with Hellfire…” He says, but it’s a lie. He usually he would be eager to invite you with but, he wanted to make you feel bad, like how you just made him feel. “See you later.”

And he already walking away before you can even say ‘bye’ back, eyebrows furrowing as you watch him walk away and out of your view.

“Later man.” Steve shouted out so Eddie could hear him and he watched him walk away through his side mirror. “That was…interesting.”

You look over to Steve, “Do you think he’s mad?” You ask and the look of distress on your face goes unnoticed by Steve, who is still looking in the mirror watching something.

“Are you kidding?! he’s fucking pissed…” Steve giggles slightly, but hears a groan from you as you slump down in the driver's seat and he snaps his gaze to you. “Hey, I mean it’s not your fault…”

“Yes, it is. He offered to teach me so many times, I just- I didn't think he’d be upset…”

Steve puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, and smiles. “Why do you think Dustin has me picking him up instead of having his new best friend, Eddie? Cause i think we all have gathered Eddie isn’t the most expertise driver…”

You roll your eyes, and a small smile spreads on your face as you look up at Steve. “You do realize that Dustin talks you up so much to us, right? Like I’m pretty sure the whole hellfire table has heard just about every cool thing you’ve probably ever done? He told us how badass you are…” Steve seems slightly taken aback by that.

He knew Dustin hadn’t told them everything, but the fact that he still thought he was cool enough, even without talking about his experiences with the upside down. It bumped his ego up.

“Henderson said that…?” A small smile tugs at his lips as well.

“Yeah, he really looks up to you. I think it pisses Eddie off…” You let out a small giggle and Steve's smile spreads fully. You could tell that definitely helped boost his ego a bit.

“Yeah, well I hear plenty about him too, so… the feelings are mutual.” You giggle at that. “So, do you feel okay with continuing the lesson?” You nod your head. Might as well, right.

Even with the slight hiccup in your plan, Steve’s stays dedicated and continues helping you with practicing. Though, you have a tough time getting Eddie out of your head.

And Eddie is already half way through town, speeding to get back home before you guys even pull out of the lot.

Recklessly driving down the gravel road of the trailer park. Nearly knocking his neighbors mailbox out from its spot again. Hastily parking his van in front of the trailer and slamming his door shut.

He was less than quiet when he walked inside. Unfortunately, for the older man that resided in the living room, sleeping the day away, over tired from his night shifts. “You could at least try and be quiet.” Eddie heard his uncle mutter from the couch in the dark living room, as Eddie threw his keys onto the counter.

“You were gonna be up in fifteen minutes anyways…” Eddie grumbled as looked at the clock before opening the fridge. Pulling out a beer for himself, and popping the lid off, then chugging some down.

“Kinda early for that isn’t it?” Wayne questioned as he began to rise on the couch where he had previously passed out. Lean against the back of the coach as he observed his nephew. Eddie just grumbled out a sound and Wayne eyed him harder.

“What’s the matter. What’s got ya actin’ all pouty?” His uncle finally asks.

“I’m not being pouty.” Eddie says back defensively, scrunching his face, his uncle’s eyes widened slightly and he chuckles.

“Yeah, sure you’re not…” Wayne chuckles again before heading off to the bathroom, and Eddie rolls his eyes. All he wanted to do right now was smoke a joint and lay in his room and stare at the ceiling.

So, that’s exactly what he did for the rest of the night. Just sitting on the fact that you were finally being taught how to drive… by someone other than him. And Steve Harrington nonetheless.

Would you still let him drive you around?

You finally pull into your driveway, parking Steve’s car.

“So… what’s the verdict?” You ask as you look over to him.

“Honestly, you’re doing pretty good out there, we could just do like one more lesson, just to make you feel better though…” It was nice to hear. You’ve had about 3 lessons with him before this one, so yeah, it was nice to know you were getting better.

“Yeah, okay. That works…” You smile but it’s not fully, and Steve can tell something’s off.

“I promise you’ll do good, you don’t have to worry. You’re already natural…” He offers you a smile, comforting you for the second time that day. Wow, you felt pathetic.

“Thanks, but- I’m just nervous about Eddie…” You admit. The thought that Eddie could actually be upset with you right made your nerves rise.

In all of the time of you being friends you guys hadn’t really had any problems. Sure you bickered and teased, but that’s all in good fun. That’s part of what made you like him, like really like him, you weren’t like that with anyone else.

“It’ll be fine, I'm sure he’s just butt-hurt, teaching someone to drive is a big step…” He says as he begins unbuckling and opening up the passenger door. You rush to turn his car off and hop out as well.

“A big step…?” You ask as you round the hood of the car to meet him.

“Yeah, I guess it’s kind of a special thing, you know… it’s like we’re sending you off into the world…” He teases you with a chuckle and ruffles your hair.

You shove his arm away with playfully scoff.

“I’m just learning how to drive, it's not that deep…” You blush slightly.

“Yeah, well I'm sure he’s just worried that you aren’t gonna need him to drive you around or whatever, and he’s upset that he wasn't even the one who got to send you out…” He is still teasing you but his words somehow hit you deep.

Shit. You just realized Eddie wasn’t gonna be driving you around everywhere anymore…

“Maybe I should apologize to him…” You admit softly.

“I mean, if that’s what feels right, then yeah, I'd say do it. It can’t hurt, I'm sure it’ll make him feel better about it…”

You nod your head softly, looking up to meet Steve’s eyes. “You know, thanks for all your emotional support today, you’re one of the last people i’d expect to get it from, but thanks…” You giggled as Steve’s brows furrowed for a second trying to hold back his smile.

“Yeah, whatever…” He says walking back towards the driver's side of his car. Smiling when you can’t see his face and he spins the keys around his finger. “One more lesson, then you’re off to take your drivers test, got it?”

You smile and nod your head when he faces you. He gives a nod back before hopping back into his car, waving as he pulls out of your driveway.

You head back inside. Going over in your head what to say to Eddie.

You settled on apologizing to him tomorrow at school. Doing it over the phone felt wrong.

The next day when you walk into the school building you wait for Eddie by his locker. He’s usually pretty slow at getting to school, it wasn’t surprising that it was taking awhile.

But then the bell rings and he still hasn’t arrived and you worry that maybe today is one of the days he decided to skip, and you wouldn’t be able to apologize.

You make your way to your first hours and through your other classes, leg anxiously bouncing throughout the day.

When you walk into your fourth hour and see Eddie sitting towards the back of the class you’re surprised.

Wait?

He actually showed up today?

Was he avoiding you?

The seats around him have already been taken so you settle for the seat two over from his. He acknowledged as your eyes met when you walked towards your seat. But nothing was said.

As class went on you kept glancing over at him. He was actually writing down the notes the had written on the board.

Until the most recent glance over when you realize he's standing up from his desk and walking towards the teacher, asking to use the bathroom and the teacher waving him off with the flip of his hand.

And Eddie walked out of the classroom. This was your chance.

Were you gonna corner him? Yes. But you wouldn’t have to if he hadn’t been avoiding you.

A couple minutes pass you and stand from your seat, walking up to the teacher just as Eddie did.

“May I please use the restroom?” You ask as politely as you can, hoping he doesn’t apply the one person in the bathroom at a time rule.

“Once he gets back.” He muttered, writing something onto the board.

Fine. Time to pull out the big guns.

“Well, I'm actually having lady problems right now, so-“ He cuts you off with a more frantic wave of his hand as he motioned you your access to leave the room.

Once you exit the classroom you’re started by a voice next to you. “Lady problems?’ Eddie questions from next to you where he leans against the lockers.

“I wanted to talk to you…” You say softly, as you approach him.

“I could tell, you kept looking over at me.”

You feel your cheeks burning slightly.

Did he notice you do that all those other days too?

“You’re avoiding me.” You state simply, hoping maybe he’ll elaborate before you apologize.

“I wasn’t.” He says back, but your eyebrows furrow and he knows you know.

“Look, Eddie… I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings with all that driving stuff… I didn't mean to…” You finally admit, and you can see him soften slightly. Surprised by your apology.

“I just don't understand, I've offered to teach you…” His voice is soft, you've only ever heard it like that when he's talking to you. It makes you feel special to have such a privilege. “Or you just want Steve to teach you?” And sweet moment over, tone shifting slightly to accusatory.

You roll your eyes, of course this was about being petty with Steve. “Eddie, I don’t care who teaches me to drive. I would, you know, just prefer to be taught by a good driver…”

He furrowed his eyebrows at your words, “I’m a good driver.” And you have to suppress the giggle that wants to slip from your lips. He notices though, and it only causes him to get more defensive, somehow furrowing his brows more. “Hey! I'm a good driver.”

“Dude,” Eddie narrows his eyes at the word, “You’re literally the most reckless driver I know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you going the speed limit.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “I choose to drive that way, that doesn’t mean I can't drive well.”

“Well, this is news to me.”

There's a silence between you two as you stand in the hallway. You came out here to apologize, but you don’t feel like you’re doing a very good job at it. “Look, I am sorry, okay… I’m not trying to make you feel bad… Obviously I'd rather you teach than Steve.”

Eddie's features soften slightly. He knows that he’s being a pain in the ass, but he just couldn’t help getting his feelings hurt from the whole ordeal.

“I'm sorry…” Is all he knows to say. He's not always good with his words, he'd like to elaborate more on how he feels, but he doesn’t really think he can without making the big confessing.

“It’s okay, Eddie. I know it was a shitty move on my part, but I promise the only reason Steve is teaching me is because he has the driving skills of a mother with a baby on board...” You tease slightly, hoping the mood had shifted enough to be playful with him.

“I can be more careful, and I could teach you…” His voice is soft.

“I’m sure you could, but Steve’s taking me out driving one last time and then I’m going to take my test.” You smile softly up at him, and he rolls his eyes again. But you know him well enough to know it means nothing.

“Well…” He starts out raising his eyebrows and tilting his head at you, you raise your back in return, already worried for what he's about to request.

So here you are on a new day, opening the driver's door to Steve’s car and plop into your seat, prepared for your final driving practice before your test. You look over to Steve in the passenger seat with a smile. Then to the back seat where Eddie seats in the middle, leaning forward, sticking his head between the two seats.

“Ready?” You ask, smiling over at him, “You might wanna take some notes.”

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #heart-eyed-love

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chaoscreaturewrites · 2 months ago

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Call of duty, ghost, cute meet, fluff

Her tism wins him over

Summary:Out at a bar ghost saves her from falling. She wants to talk with this stranger but flirting isn't her thing. He's had a bad month and she's the highlight he could listen to her go on and on for hours. But her friends interrupt and criticize her making her shut down so it's up to ghost to get her to smile again.

WC:1.9k

Her pov

Once a month she goes out to a bar with her friends, it's not the best environment for her autism but she does usually manage to have some fun.

While her friends dance she goes to the bar for another drink. She gets shoved by a few people hustling by and loses her balance. She's falling certain she's going to collide with the filthy floor, but the hit doesn't come, only the feeling of a hard bar-like thing pressing against her abdomen.

She opens her eyes and sees it's someone's forearm holding her up, impressive. Still hanging over him she turns and looks up to see her savior and finds a tall, well built man with beautiful chocolate eyes wearing a mask.

She pushes up her glasses and stands up supporting herself. The man simply turns back to the bar and takes a sip of his drink staring off into the void in front of him like what just happened was simply nothing, but for her that was a reality altering moment that sent her heart racing and filled her stomach with butterflies.

She wishes so badly she knew how to flirt or was any good at small talk cause right now, this man, she wants to make a connection.

Her friends had given her some pointers and she's watched shows so she pulls from that information. She steps up to the bar into the open space next to the mystery man and orders a drink for herself and one for him.

This gets his attention, hopefully in a good way but his expression gives nothing away as he looks at the new drink.

“Thank you for catching me”

He picks up the new drink and gives her a nod of thanks.

Sending him a drink was her one hope for starting something but that's been shut down so she calls it quits, she's not skilled enough for this and doesn't want to bother him more.

As she walks away the glint of something catches her eye, she finds its source to be a beautiful knife handle with shining copper inlays, holstered on the man's belt. This sparks a special interest of hers, making all the self consciousness and social pressure go away.

Now she approaches with confidence, tapping the man's shoulder, the second his gaze turns to her the words start flowing from her effortlessly. Complementing his knife, talking about the craftsmanship, detailed techniques, her own collection, she goes on and on.

His pov

The squad goes out for their ritual after mission drinks. Tonight spirits aren't great, lower than usual but they still go.

Ghost takes a seat at the bar, Price settles in a corner to have a cigar, Gaz and Soap flirt looking for a pretty distraction.

Movement in his periphery catches his attention and he acts on instinct when he sees a lil bird start to fall, reaching out his arm and catching her. Seems like she's a bit dazed so he takes that moment to look her over, she's not dressed like the other girls here. No short dress or skin tight outfit, she's dressed sensibly, comfortably, jeans and a t-shirt. She doesn't need a short skirt or too tight leggings to show off, the jeans hug her ass beautifully, shirt tied on the sides defining her waist ever so slightly, he finds this look much more appealing than any party dress.

She gets even cuter when she faces him, how She adjusts her glasses and brushes her bangs back into place. He was right to say she got dazed by the look written on her face. He has to turn away, can't just keep staring at her shamelessly, he's not right for a sweet Lil bird like her, he's too damaged and in a dark place tonight.

He hopes she'll just walk away for her own sake even though it's the opposite of what he truly wants. But no, she goes to stand right next to him, close enough he can smell her scent, it's such a harsh contrast to the smokey sharp smell of the bar. He doesn't know if it's her perfume or hair but she smells like peppermint, honey, rose, and something he can't name but is so alluring.

“ Thank you for catching me”

He was so caught up in the scent of her he didn't hear her order him a drink until the glass was slid in front of him. This catches him off guard, what's he's supposed to say ‘ oh i didn't mean to do that it was just instincts from my training’. No, that's probably not the right response, if only Soap or Gaz was here they would whisper to him what to tell her. Now it's been too long since she's spoken. He needs to act so he just gives her a nod of thanks and turns away in embarrassment while he internally berates himself.

He feels a touch on his arm and is amazed to see it's her again, he expected one of the guys, but now it's her the Lil angle who keeps coming back no matter how many times he looks away.

He didn't have any expectations but what she said still surprised him. Is this really happening? She likes his knives, she knows a lot about them, so much detail, she has her own collection, oh she really is an angel. He happily listens to every word she says, fully under her spell as she info dumps. Everything fades away, the bar scene replaced by just her, the sharp smokey scent replaced by hers, the music replaced by her voice, the darkness of his last mission being cleared away with every passing minute in her presence.

Her pov

“Y/N there you are, what are you doing”

“ are you info dumping rn, girl that's not one of the flirting tips”

Their words snap her out of her special interest hype instantly and she becomes very self-conscious and shuts down a bit, feeling bad that she just info dumped to a stranger who she probably bothered a lot.

She turns back to the man but can't meet his chocolate gaze again. Hands intertwined picking at her fingers, eyes down, shoulders slumped she apologies to the man.

“Sorry”

She goes to walk away following after her friends feeling dejected, like she's made a fool of herself again cause she just can't fit in and interact with others freely.

They all sit at a booth and chatter continues, they try to tell her it's okay, it happens but the words bounce off.

His pov

Who the hell are they? She's with them, why on earth did they stop her and ridicule her like that, I didn't want her to stop, that was one of the best conversations I've had in weeks and I didn't have to say a word.

He sips the drink she bought him and tries to calm down. He regroups with the guys at Price's booth, apparently he didn't cool down enough and they ask what's bothering him. He tells them all about her and what happened, well he left out how he started at her ass. Soap refuses to let that be the end of their story and drags Ghost out of the booth and around the bar until they find her.

Gaz followed along giving Ghost tips and lines to say, nothing to flirt, only things he thought Ghost could pull off. They shove him towards her booth and watch hoping he can pull this off.

The pep talk did help, boosted his confidence, he's now a man on a mission and he never fails a mission. He walks right up to her and holds out his hand.

She looks up at him, still a bit of that dejected look showing but mostly shock. Her friend gives her a nudge which seems to bring her back to reality.

“ I.. I can't dance”

“ Neither can I”

He has no intention of dancing with her, he just needs to get her alone again, away from the ones that made her shut down.

Her small hand slips into his and he closes around it and pulls her up, moves her in front of him and walks her out of the bar, he'd like to have a quiet moment with her.

She visibly looks calmed once out of the bar, a bit of that sparkle returning to her eyes, her posture straightening, and that energy that drew him In returning. Good.

Her pov

He came back, he came and found me, maybe, maybe I wasn't bothering him, could that be possible. Something seems different about him, less soft and lonely, more confident and determined.

Oh, does he want to dance, I really can't dance, if I had any chance dancing would ruin it completely.

“ I..I can't dance”

“ Neither can I”

No dancing Thank god, but then what does he want, oh does that even matter. This is a chance, and unknown I want to take, I need to take. Here goes possibly everything. Yup this man is confident and those calluses he must be really good with that knife, must use it a lot, I wonder what he does.

Where is he leading us, oh we're going outside, that's good, the music I can't take much more, gotta call it a night real soon.

A deep breath of the fresh chilly night air clears away a lot of her tension, she needed this badly. She looks up at him again and waits, wondering why he came back, why bring her outside.

His hand never left her and now he uses their hold to pull her in, closing the distance between them, she can feel the heat radiating from him and instinctively nuzzles against his chest. He wraps his arms around her in a hug as they stand there on the sidewalk while the world passes around them.

“ I liked what you said before, I could listen to you talk for hours… that was the highlight of my month”

His pov

“ I liked what you said before, I could listen to you talk for hours… that was the highlight of my month”

“ really”

The way her voice cracks, the desperation in her tone tells him just how big an impact this has on her, how deeply tonight has affected her. He needs to show her, convince her.

So he picks her up, making them eye level, enjoying the way she wraps her leg around him.

“ Honestly, yes, tell me more about your knife collection or any of your other interests, there's no other way I'd like to spend my time. A cup of tea and listening to you”

It all happens so quick, he barely registers it, but it did happen, she grabbed his face and kissed him right in his mask. It was quick but not chaste, there was a hunger there, passion. Now her cheeks are quickly turning red and her pupils blown, this can't be the only time he sees this, no he need her in his life.

….

“ So how did it go?”

“ we have a date next weekend”

Soap and Glaze erupt in cheers and Price gives him a pat on the back, his version of an atta boy.

Also can check out my cod master list and see if you'd like to be tagged for any future works for specific characters

#writeblr #chaos creature writes #writers on tumblr #fanfic #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #call of duty fluff #call of duty fic #autistic reader fic

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seospicybin · 9 months ago

Text

NATIONAL ANTHEM.

Seungmin x reader. (s,a)

Synopsis: At first, you knew Seungmin as the guy you made out with on a flight home but once the plane landed, you discovered that he's the son of your father's rival candidate for the upcoming election, causing you to be caught between love and loyalty. (13,6k words)

Author's note: Happy birthday to the agent of chaos, Seungmin ☆

Some people might call it fate, serendipity, or kismet, but you're not the type to believe in romantic clichés like that, so let's just call it a coincidence.

It's merely a coincidence that the car got a flat tire on the way to the airport, causing you to miss the flight you were supposed to be on. Otherwise, you would have been sitting in seat 4B on a completely different plane next to a completely different passenger in seat 4A.

As you make your way to your seat, you notice him immediately. A young man sitting in the window seat next to yours, he possesses a rare, gentlemanly beauty. With refined features, a charming smile, and tousled dark hair, he exudes a sophisticated appeal. In other words, he’s the kind of guy who instantly catches your eye.

He glances up as you stow your bag in the overhead compartment, offering a polite nod. You take your seat next to him, trying to keep your cool even though your heart skips a beat.

There’s something about him that draws you in, something magnetic—a quiet confidence that doesn’t need to be loud or showy to be felt.

After you settle in and the plane takes off, you feel the urge to talk to him. You're usually not the type to strike up conversations with strangers, but for some reason, with him, you can't help it. Also, you realize that if you want something to happen, you have to start somewhere.

“Is this your first time flying out of here?” you ask, turning to him with a smile.

He looks at you, his lips curving into a small smile. “No, I’ve been here before, but it’s been a while," he answers, his voice smooth and calm, making something flutter in your chest.

You introduce yourself to break the ice and make interacting easier.

"Seungmin," he says, taking your hand and holding it for a moment as he introduces himself. "Traveling alone?"

"Yes," you answer innocently.

"Business or pleasure?" he asks, a playful glint in his warm brown eyes.

You stare into his eyes and faintly bite your lower lip before answering, "Hopefully, pleasure."

From there, the conversation flows effortlessly. You talk about everything—from favorite travel destinations to the books you're reading. Something about Seungmin makes it feel so natural, and before you know it, two hours have passed in the blink of an eye.

“I can’t believe we’ve been talking for hours,” you say with a low laugh, glancing out the window at the darkened sky.

The Atlantic stretches endlessly below, and the flight attendants have dimmed the cabin lights, casting a soft, intimate glow over the rows of seats.

“Time flies when the company’s good,” he says, his eyes lingering on you in a way that makes your heart race.

The space between you feels charged now, the conversation slowing as the connection deepens into something more. You can feel the pull—the undeniable attraction that’s been simmering since you sat down. Then you catch him glancing at your lips, and you know he feels it too.

Daringly, you lean in slightly, testing the waters, and he responds by shifting closer. The air between you is electric, and when his hand brushes yours, a spark shoots through you.

Both of you hesitate for a moment, caught in that intoxicating space where everything hangs in the balance until neither of you can resist any longer.

Your lips meet in a soft, tentative kiss, and the world outside the window seems to fall away. His kiss is gentle at first, cautious, testing, but when you respond, he takes it as permission to deepen it. He rests his hand on your cheek, and warmth spreads through you as his lips move against yours in a slow, intoxicating rhythm, making you forget you’re on a plane surrounded by strangers.

For those few moments, it's just you and him, lost in each other, the quiet hum of the plane fading into the background.

When you finally pull apart, breathless and dazed, you exchange a look that says everything. This isn't just some fleeting attraction. There’s something real here, something undeniable.

However, once the plane touches down and the cabin lights flicker back to life, reality begins to creep in. It's the altitude, the change in air, and the fact that you now have both feet on the ground. The intimacy of your shared moments with Seungmin starts to fade as you both prepare to disembark.

Everyone stands from their seats to gather their things, and you can feel Seungmin watching as you reach for your bag in the overhead compartment.

"So…" Seungmin begins as you both shuffle out of the row and into the aisle. "Can I get your number? Or at least, a last name?"

Your heart is still fluttering from the kiss you shared just hours ago, but you hesitate. There’s an inexplicable tug in your gut telling you not to give in so easily, to be cautious. You like him—really like him—but you're not going to make it that easy.

You flash him a playful smile. “Hmm... I’m not sure I should make it that easy for you,” you tease, shifting your bag onto your shoulder.

Seungmin raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a half-smile. “You’re going to make me work for it?”

You nonchalantly shrug, trying to keep things light despite your racing heart. “Let’s just say I like a challenge.”

As you walk together through the terminal, the chemistry between you still crackling, you step outside and notice a car waiting at the curb. The driver, standing beside it, is holding a sign with Seungmin’s name. At first, nothing seems out of the ordinary, until you notice his jacket. The driver is wearing a dark blazer, but pinned to it is a familiar emblem—the logo of a political campaign.

Not just any campaign. It's your father’s rival’s campaign.

Your smile falters as you look more closely, and your heart drops when something clicks. You turn to Seungmin, your mind racing.

“Is that your driver?” your voice comes out sharper than you intended.

Seungmin follows your gaze, looking a bit confused. “Yeah. Why?”

Your throat suddenly feels dry. You clear it before asking the big question. “Are you from the Kim family? The same Kim family running for governor?”

"Yes," Seungmin answers, clearly puzzled.

The Kim family. The Kim family. Your father’s bitter rival in the upcoming election. This isn’t just some random guy you met on a plane—he's the son of the man your father has been railing against for weeks. You feel the blood drain from your face as the realization crashes down.

Seungmin’s expression shifts from confusion to concern. “What’s wrong?”

You unconsciously take a step back. "You’re... you’re a Kim," you say, still in disbelief.

Seungmin opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. "Your father and mine—they’re both running for governor."

For a moment, Seungmin seems to be processing what you’ve said. Then his face hardens slightly in understanding. You take another step back, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

“This changes everything,” you whisper.

He looks at you, his eyes searching. “No, it doesn’t have to," he says.

If only he knew how badly you wanted to believe him. But you can’t ignore the reality of the situation. Both of your families are in a brutal political war, and no matter how much you like him, getting involved with Seungmin could blow everything up—for both of you.

"How is it not? Your father accused mine of siphoning money from the city’s budget for his campaign."

"Because he did!" Seungmin says boldly.

"There’s no concrete proof!" you counter.

"Of course, because they know how to make things disappear. Your family is known for their generosity with hush money," he remarks bluntly.

You’ve never been one to argue about things that aren’t your business, but when it comes to your family, you naturally defend them.

"As opposed to your father’s blatant hypocrisy," you calmly reply. "He’s fighting the climate crisis, but his wife keeps taking private jets for her shopping trips."

You come up with a concrete data point. "According to the data, those trips contributed 58 metric tons of carbon—the same amount emitted by 4,625 cars in a day."

That seems to shut him up. His jaw clenches, and it's unfair how good he looks when he's mad.

The driver awkwardly clears his throat, glancing between you both. “Sir, we should get going. Your father’s waiting.”

"It was good to see you," Seungmin says before storming off, childishly bumping your shoulder as he passes.

"Goodbye, I guess," you mutter, scoffing in disbelief as you watch him walk away.

That concludes everything, officially making it an unpleasant coincidence.

It was just a coincidence!

That's what Seungmin has been telling himself after spending days wrestling with his feelings, convincing himself that it doesn’t matter, that you are just a fleeting moment, a passing fancy. But the truth is undeniable: no matter how much he tries to push you out of his mind, he just can’t stop thinking about you.

When his friend mentioned that you’re living separately from your family, something shifted inside him. The tension between your families has always been an obstacle, a reason to stay away, but now it seems more like an excuse. If anything, the fact that you aren’t on good terms with your family only deepens his curiosity—and somehow, his feelings.

Seungmin hadn’t planned to find your hotel room, but once he knew where you were staying, he couldn’t help himself. And now, as he stands there, waiting for you to open the door, his heart races in anticipation despite the cool facade he tries to maintain.

After a moment, the door creaks open, and there you are—your hair slightly tousled, your expression showing slight shock to see him there. His heart leaps at the sight of you, but instead of the warmth or excitement he hoped to see, your face remains cold, indifferent.

“Are you stalking me?” your voice is cool, a little too casual, as if you haven’t been thinking about him at all.

There's no going back now, so Seungmin pushes forward. "Well, you're not that hard to track."

You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms in front of you defensively. “You shouldn’t be here,” you say flatly.

Seungmin notices the flicker in your eyes, something you’re trying to hide. He takes a small step closer, his gaze softening, and playfully says, “Maybe."

You stare at him for a moment, your expression hard, but he sees the hesitation in the way your fingers grip the edge of the door. You’re fighting something, trying to keep a wall between the two of you. He understands why you keep your guard up so high—you’re trying to protect yourself, your heart, and maybe even protect him from the mess that is your life right now.

“You shouldn’t be... with me,” you make it even clearer, but even as you say the words, your voice wavers.

Seungmin takes another step forward, placing his hand near where yours rests. “Let me in, and we'll find out."

Your eyes soften for a brief moment before you quickly look away, the conflict clear in your expression. It’s obvious that you want to shut the door, to push him away, but something is holding you back. Maybe it's the same thing that brought him here in the first place—the connection, the spark between you that refuses to be ignored.

The conflict in your eyes only encourages Seungmin. He leans against the doorframe, his eyes never leaving yours. "Why are you staying in a hotel anyway?" he asks, his voice casual but tinged with curiosity.

You remain aloof, folding your arms across your chest as you raise an eyebrow. “Why should I let my enemy know?"

The coldness in your tone is deliberate, a shield to guard against him, against what you’re really feeling. But he doesn’t back down; his smirk only grows wider.

His hand inches closer to yours as he leans in just a bit closer, making his presence suddenly more overwhelming.

“See, that’s the thing..." his voice drops lower, with a teasing edge.

“What?” you ask, trying to keep your cool even though the proximity makes your heart race.

“We’re enemies,” he states the obvious, his gaze locking onto yours with such intensity that it sends a shiver down your spine.

You let out a sigh, already prepared for whatever line he’s about to throw at you. “And what’s your point?”

Seungmin’s smirk deepens as he leans in even closer, his face now mere inches away from yours. His voice is low and soft, almost a whisper, but filled with mischief.

“Sleeping with the enemy is hot.”

Your breath hitches slightly, but you keep your expression in check, refusing to let him see just how much his words affect you. You tilt your head a little to the side, raising an eyebrow, but the corner of your mouth betrays you with the slightest hint of a smile.

“Is that so?” you respond with a daring smirk.

Seungmin lets out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering with something dangerous and alluring, like he knows exactly how this game is going to end.

As you stand there weighing your options, the tension between you and him becomes unbearable. You can feel the electricity crackling in the air, and despite everything, you find yourself taking a step back, opening the door wider without saying a word.

Seungmin’s triumphant smile tells you that he understands your silent invitation. Without wasting another second, he steps inside, the door closing softly behind him as the world outside fades away.

Before you can even catch your breath, he’s on you—his lips crash against yours with a force that makes you dizzy. The kiss is urgent, an explosion of passion and frustration that has been building between you and him for so long.

His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer as if the mere touch of your skin isn’t enough to satisfy the hunger between you.

All the walls you’ve built, all the reasons you shouldn’t be doing this, crumble in an instant. It doesn’t matter that he’s your enemy. Right now, all that matters is the way his lips brush against yours, the way his breath mingles with yours, the way your hearts seem to beat in sync.

In that moment, nothing else exists but the two of you.

Doing it on the bed is overrated to Seungmin, so he grabs you by the waist and swiftly hoists you up, setting you on the nearest table. Fortunately, it's sturdy and at the perfect height for whatever he's planning next.

He plants his hands on the table behind you and aligns his body with yours, fitting just right—hardness to softness, curves to hollows. Oh, he has so many ideas of what to do with you. On second thought, he's fine with paying the fine for property damage if it comes to that.

He leans in slowly, teasing your lips for a kiss, but just a millimeter away from contact, he moves to the side and whispers softly into your ear, "Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this moment?"

You look up at him, eyes wide and seductive, a grin peeking at the corner of your mouth. "I don’t want to know. I want you to show me."

Something flickers in his eyes—something that both scares and thrills you. He places a hand on your waist and glides it up your side, stopping at your ribcage.

"What is it about you..." His words trail off as he places a deep, slow kiss on your lips.

As he keeps your mouth busy, his hand palms your breast through your nightdress. When he pinches your hardening nipple, you gasp at the jolt of sensation.

To return the favor, you slide your fingers beneath his shirt, feeling the hard ridges of his stomach. He's soft yet firm, and if it weren't for the warmth under your fingertips, you’d think he was carved from marble.

"I just can’t stop thinking about you and our kiss," he says, a mix of wonder and disbelief in his voice, before capturing your lips again in a hungry kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.

Seungmin’s thumb rubs your nipple just right, making your insides melt.

"Look at you, getting weak in the knees for me," he says with a triumphant grin.

He pulls his hand from the table and gives it a new task, sliding under your dress to grip your inner thigh, pulling your hips against his arousal, letting you feel the heat of his desire.

"And what we could have done after that kiss..." he continues, your lips meeting again in a breathless kiss.

Seungmin breaks the kiss to move his lips elsewhere—your neck, your chest. His hand roughly pulls down the front of your nightdress, sending your breasts spilling out. He wastes no time, his lips closing over your skin.

Your hand flies to his hair, tugging as he sucks hard on your breast. You watch as his tongue swirls around your nipple before he fills his mouth with your flesh.

"Seungmin..." you call breathlessly, unsure whether you want him to stop or keep going.

Hearing his name roll off your lips soothes something deep inside him, and he wants to hear it again and again. He pushes the hem of your nightdress up around your waist, and in return, you rip open the fly of his jeans, freeing his swollen member.

"Mmh..." you hum with delight, wrapping your hand around his length, hot and pulsing with desire.

Seungmin mirrors your action, palming your clothed core, his thumb tracing your engorged bundle of nerves. Soon, your underwear is damp with arousal.

"What is it about you, mmh?" he asks, eyes locked on yours.

He pulls your panties aside and runs his long fingers down your folds, drenching them in your essence. As his fingers drag down, he pushes them inside you, earning a broken moan from your lips.

"What is it about you that makes me want more..." He keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you, savoring the way your face contorts in pleasure. "And more, and more..."

As he continues, you fist the front of his shirt, pulling him close, your legs opening wider, bringing his cock even closer to where you want him.

He withdraws his fingers, replacing them with his cock. Your legs are raised slightly higher than the table’s surface, aching for more than just the feeling of his tip rubbing between your folds.

"Stop teasing me," you mutter.

His lopsided grin returns, and before you can react, he thrusts into you hard and fast, burying himself completely inside you.

Your breath hitches, and you moan his name, which he finds incredibly hot. He strokes his tongue over every inch of your mouth, claiming it as he angles his hips to hit your clit.

The tight grip of your body, your sweet mouth, your legs wrapped around him—perfection. He indulges in every part of you. His heart races, his need grows desperate, but he holds back, determined to wait for your high to come first.

When you finally shatter and convulse around him uncontrollably, he allows himself to thrust harder. He grasps your hips, your thighs, pressing your foreheads together so he can look into your beautiful, dazed eyes as he thrusts one last time, losing himself completely as he pours everything into you. As his breath saws in and out, he holds you tight, with no intention of letting go.

The theory is proven: sleeping with the enemy is hot.

It’s Seungmin’s third time staying over in your hotel room this week alone, and no, you're not complaining at all. You've already grown accustomed to him—Seungmin is part of your routine now, part of your life, and his absence leaves you feeling restless.

When you're not with him, you recall what he’s done to you: the way he kissed you, caressed you, all the things he's said. Your hand unconsciously flies down to your thigh, wishing he was touching you right now.

But don’t get it wrong—the non-bedroom side of Seungmin appeals to you just as much as the lover side, if not more. He makes you laugh, and he listens to you, even when what you talk about isn’t particularly interesting. He’s comfortable around you, and that makes you comfortable around him. You like how he fills the empty space in the bed, and you also like just lying with him in a comfortable silence that doesn’t beg for questions.

However, tonight is an exception.

As you lie on the bed with Seungmin, still recovering from the passionate lovemaking you shared earlier, you feel the weight of reality slowly creeping back in. The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable, but it feels heavy, as if there are things that need to be said.

You roll over slightly to face him and place your hand on his arm, fingers gently tracing the veins coiling down his inner arm. “I need to tell you something,” you murmur.

Seungmin turns his head to look at you, his gaze soft but curious. “What is it?”

You inhale deeply as you gather your thoughts, looking into his eyes as you begin with the one thing you're sure of.

“I really like you, Seungmin.”

“I know,” he says confidently, one corner of his mouth curling into a half-smirk.

You bring your hand up to cup his chin, gently scratching his jaw with your fingertips as you flash him a soft smile and continue speaking.

“What you don’t know is that my family isn’t speaking to me right now, and that’s something I’d like to change.”

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” he says earnestly, softly caressing your cheek.

“My family used to control me—I’m sure you know what that’s like. I rebelled, took off, and a year into it, I found out my younger sister was going through something, and I wasn’t there for her because I was trying to prove some... stupid point,” you explain with a dry chuckle.

His gaze remains steady as he listens to you without interrupting.

“I’m just trying to find my way back in, and I happened to bump into you along the way.”

“And I’m glad you did,” he says, catching your other hand in his and resting it on his chest.

You hold his chin, wanting all of his attention focused on you, because what you're about to say is the most important part of this conversation.

“Being seen with you would send the wrong message, and I really can’t risk making my family more upset right now.”

Seungmin’s eyes soften, and without the slightest hesitation, he nods in agreement. “I understand,” he says calmly.

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty good at secret relationships,” he adds with a playful smirk. “And all the sneaking around... it’s kind of thrilling. I find it really hot.”

You let out a soft laugh, suddenly feeling at ease. “Of course you do.”

Seungmin pulls you closer, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face before placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“We’ll keep it a secret, but I want you to know that it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

As Seungmin presses a tender kiss to your forehead, you feel the warmth and reassurance sinking in. For now, the secret doesn’t feel like a burden—it feels like a shared world that belongs only to the two of you.

In under a month, Seungmin has learned a lot about you.

In bed, you respond best when he goes slowly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. But if he wants something more intense—or anything, for that matter—you’re game and eager to please. He couldn’t ask for a better partner.

Out of bed, you live by routine. You get up at the same time every day, then shower away the evidence of morning sex (because Seungmin loves starting the day off right). Your breakfast usually consists of a cup of black coffee and French toast. You share a kiss before parting ways; you get picked up at the hotel entrance while Seungmin makes his exit through the hotel kitchen.

During the day, you help your father with his campaign at the headquarters, returning to your hotel room around 8 or 9 when you have dinner with your family.

As for your evenings, they belong to Seungmin. When you’re not fooling around like hormonal teenagers, you spend time having late-night snacks, talking about random things, or just cuddling in bed—things Seungmin has never experienced with anyone before.

Day by day, he wants more of you, not less.

Tonight, you both decide to watch something on pay-per-view. You rest your head on his shoulder while your eyes are fixed on the large screen mounted on the wall. From time to time, Seungmin kisses you, and it feels so good having you near, as if he were made to be your lover.

Occasionally, you react to certain scenes in the film, your bare legs shifting beneath the hem of your nightdress.

“Are you wearing underwear?” he jokes into your ear.

You part your legs, giving him the opportunity to find out for himself. It’s funny that he only realizes now—you’ve never turned him down; you’re just as starved for him as he is for you.

Seungmin pouts when his fingers meet silky fabric instead of your tender flesh, but that doesn’t stop him from continuing to touch you. You gasp as he massages your clothed clit, and your head lolls on his shoulder.

It doesn’t take long before you’re wet, your essence coating his fingertips as he traces your folds. His cock aches inside the confines of his jeans, as if it’s been weeks since he last had sex, not just hours. He wants you again—craves that closeness, that connection, that unbelievable, mind-blowing pleasure. No amount of you is ever enough for him.

Before long, you give in and pull him down for a hungry kiss, which leads to another, and another, and another...

The next thing he knows, the credits are rolling on the TV screen—the whole film played while the two of you were busy with other things. At the end of the night, you climb into bed and nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck, wrapping your warmth around his body.

Seungmin brushes a stray hair from your face, his fingertips trailing over the smooth curve of your lips before placing a gentle kiss, tender and possessive.

“Goodnight,” he mutters when he breaks the kiss.

The next morning, he finds you wearing his shirt—the one from the very first night you spent together. He doesn’t know how to describe how he feels seeing you in his clothes, knowing you kept his shirt and have been wearing it; all he knows is it’s a good feeling.

Truthfully, he’s been feeling like this a lot lately—whenever you smile, ask for a kiss, or cross the room just to be near him. But also when the two of you aren’t together. He has spent the past few weeks in a euphoric high, grinning for no other reason than thinking of you.

There’s no doubt about it—Seungmin is stupid in love.

The fundraiser party is in full swing, the lights casting a warm, polished glow over the room as it's buzzing with conversations and the clinking of glasses. You stand beside your father, perfectly poised, playing the part of the dutiful daughter.

This night isn’t about you—it’s about him. Every charming smile, every polite nod you give is an extension of the image he wants to project: a perfect family, a perfect father. But you know the truth.

As you watch your father work the room, shaking hands and making connections, you know your role is to boost his image—not because he cares about you, but because you are part of his political strategy. Still, this is your chance to prove yourself, to show him you can be the daughter he wants, even if the real connection is long gone.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you see Seungmin and his brother-in-law approaching. Your heart skips a beat, but you hurriedly calm yourself down, knowing this isn’t the time for emotions—it’s the time for control.

Seungmin and his brother-in-law stop in front of you and your father. Seungmin’s gaze briefly meets yours for a second, and despite the public setting, the intensity of that look sends a small thrill through you.

“Good evening,” Seungmin’s brother-in-law says politely and formally. “We’re here representing our father tonight, and he sends his regards.”

Your father, ever the politician, gives a thin, practiced smile. “Ah, yes, it’s unfortunate he couldn’t attend himself. I suppose running a campaign must keep him quite busy.”

There’s a subtle edge to his words, a slight sneer that isn’t lost on you or anyone, but fortunately, Seungmin and his brother-in-law remain composed, not rising to the bait.

“Of course,” Seungmin replies calmly. “He’s doing everything he can for the campaign.”

Your father’s gaze shifts to Seungmin, sizing him up before his eyes narrow in curiosity. "Seungmin, isn’t it? I’ve heard good things about you. You’ve been quite the asset to your father’s campaign, haven’t you?”

“Oh, please. I’m just doing the best I can to help,” Seungmin humbly replies, perfectly nailing the model son role.

“It’s refreshing to see someone so dedicated to their family’s success. We could all learn from that, couldn’t we?” your father says, glancing at you, making it clear that his praise for Seungmin is a thinly veiled comparison.

You keep your composure, your smile unwavering, even as a knot of discomfort forms in your stomach. You entertain yourself with the thought that your father has no idea what is really going on—that the very man he is praising is the one you are secretly seeing. The joke is on him.

“Have you met my daughter?" your father asks, gesturing toward you as if you haven’t been standing there the whole time.

Seungmin turns to you, his expression steady, but his eyes flicker with something only you can recognize. He holds out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you reply, keeping your smile polite. You have to continue acting as if nothing has ever happened between you and him.

Hours pass as you mingle with other guests, but the pressure of keeping up appearances starts to weigh on you. Toward the end of the party, when most of the guests are distracted, you slip away, catching Seungmin’s eye as you do. He follows discreetly, and soon you find yourselves in an isolated part of the building, the muffled sounds of the party still audible.

The moment he comes into sight, you let out a sigh of relief, allowing yourself to drop the mask you’ve worn all night.

"I missed you," he whispers as he steps closer. Before you can respond, he presses his lips to yours, the kiss filled with longing and the tension that has been building up since your last secret meeting.

"I missed you too," you murmur between kisses.

In the dimly lit, secluded hallway, you and Seungmin find a rare moment of peace. His hands cup your face, his lips moving urgently against yours, pouring all the longing and frustration of the past few days into every kiss.

It is reckless, but being with him feels too good to resist. In fact, it feels so good that you almost forget the dark shadow that has been hanging over your mind. Almost.

"My mom found out about us," you blurt out after breaking the kiss.

Seungmin freezes, his lips barely an inch from yours, his brows furrowing as he processes what you’ve just said. "Wait... what?"

“I guess we didn’t fool the doorman,” you say with a heavy sigh as the gravity of the situation sinks in.

For a moment, Seungmin just stands there, panic rising in his chest. If your mom knows, it won’t be long before both of your families find out, and he knows exactly what that would mean for both of you—and for his father’s campaign.

“So... you told her the truth?” he asks, focusing on the possibility that your mom might indirectly support this relationship.

“Obviously, I didn’t want to risk everything with my family for some fling that wasn��t going to last,” you reply meekly.

Seungmin blinks, then his lips curl into a teasing smile. "Oh, so it isn’t just some fling?”

“Seungmin, I’m serious!" you whine in frustration, giving him a playful slap on the chest.

"You can’t keep sneaking into the hotel anymore. It’s too risky, and if my father finds out...” You can’t even finish your sentence without feeling sick to your stomach.

Seungmin’s smile fades as he realizes the danger you are both in. It feels as if the walls are closing in on both sides, and it won’t be long before someone else notices the two of you together. His mind races, trying to think of a solution, somewhere you can be together without the prying eyes of your families.

Just as he opens his mouth to say something, a voice interrupts, and both of you stiffen.

“Seungmin?”

His brother-in-law is standing a few feet away, his eyes narrowing as he glances between the two of you, catching sight of Seungmin’s hand still holding yours.

None of you speak, and in that moment, it feels like the quiet before a storm about to break.

Seungmin’s brother-in-law has always been sharp, and tonight is no exception. As you and Seungmin slipped out of the party, thinking you were being discreet, he spotted the two of you. From the moment you met, he sensed something was already there. He observed further, noticing the sneaky glances, the looks that said more than words, and the way you interacted with each other. He must admit, both of you are poor actors.

When his brother-in-law corners the two of you in the hallway, Seungmin braces himself, expecting him to spill everything to his father immediately, knowing what he could gain from it.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Seungmin asks, suspicion creeping in. He knows his brother-in-law has always been loyal to the family, especially to his father, so this calm, nonchalant reaction doesn’t add up.

Instead, his brother-in-law glances between you both with a knowing smile and says, "You two are playing a dangerous game, but you know what? I won’t stand in your way."

That doesn't make Seungmin relax. If anything, the words make him more cautious. "And why’s that? Why are you suddenly on my side?”

“Seungmin, I already think of you like my own brother,” his brother-in-law replies simply, with enough sincerity to convince anyone who hears him. “I want you to be happy."

Seungmin remains quiet for a moment, still wary, but realizing he has little choice. Whatever his brother-in-law’s motives are, this is the only lifeline he has right now.

“So, what’s the plan?” Seungmin finally asks, keeping his voice steady.

“I have a boat. It’s docked not far from here. No one checks it, no one comes by." His brother-in-law reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a small set of keys, handing them to Seungmin. "You two can stay there, alone, as long as you need."

Seungmin’s gaze flicks from the keys to his brother-in-law’s face, still unsure if he can fully trust him. But this is the best option you both have right now. He decides to take a leap of faith and takes the keys from him.

"It's docked on the west side, slip twenty-three," his brother-in-law informs him. Before Seungmin can say anything else, he adds, “Oh, you may want to check the first aid kit on the boat.”

Seungmin’s eyebrows knit in confusion. “What for?”

His brother-in-law puts on a mischievous grin. “Let’s just say you’ll find some essentials in there."

Seungmin’s suspicion deepens, but he doesn’t question it further. Maybe his brother-in-law is being sincere, so Seungmin stops overthinking it. On a more important note, you both need a place to hide, and this is as good as it’s going to get. He glances over at you, and with a silent agreement, you both know you have to take this opportunity, no matter the risks.

“Thanks,” Seungmin mutters, cautious but grateful. “I appreciate it.”

His brother-in-law pats him on the shoulder, giving him a reassuring nod. “Just be careful,” he says.

With that, you and Seungmin slip away into the night, heading toward the boat where, for at least one night, you can finally be alone.

The boat is bigger than you thought it would be, bobbing gently in the moonlit water. As you step onto the deck, you feel a sense of freedom, as if, for once, the outside world can’t reach you. You settle into the small but comfortable space, the tension between you fading into something softer, more tender.

When it’s just the two of you, you can finally let your guard down and be your authentic self. You walk up to him and slip into his arms for a warm embrace.

"It's just you and me now," you say, resting your forehead against him.

"Just you and me," he repeats, gently tilting your head with his hand on your chin, and places the gentlest kiss, treating you like a fragile piece of art.

Seungmin leads you through the cabin, the scent of saltwater and wood lingering in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of the sea breeze drifting in from the open hatch.

“This is nice,” you comment, running your fingers along the edge of a worn leather couch. “But do you think your brother-in-law keeps any food around? I’m starving.”

He lets out a soft chuckle and makes his way to the small kitchenette, opening the fridge with a creak. “Looks like frozen pizza is on the menu,” he says, pulling out the pack and showing it to you.

As Seungmin prepares the frozen pizza and tosses it into the microwave, you head to the bedroom to find something comfortable to wear. In the bathroom, you find a soft bathrobe neatly folded on the top shelf. Without a second thought, you change out of your dress and into the robe. As you tie the belt around your waist, you sigh in relief, feeling a great sense of comfort.

By the time you return, Seungmin is plating the pizza, the smell filling the small cabin. He has also found a bottle of champagne in the cabinet, the label a little worn and the drink lukewarm. Both of you eat in comfortable silence, exchanging small smiles between bites, enjoying this rare moment of normalcy.

When the food is all gone, you lean back in your seat with a contented sigh. The dinner is simple, yet it feels more special than any you’ve had before.

Being the neat person he is, Seungmin wastes no time cleaning up after dinner.

“You can clean up later,” you tell him, sipping your warm champagne.

“There’s not much to clean anyway,” he replies, taking the dirty plates back into the cabin.

Remembering what Seungmin’s brother-in-law said before you left, you decide to go on a little hunt for the first-aid kit he mentioned and see what’s inside. It doesn’t take long to find it tucked away in one of the cabinets in the control room. As you open it, you blink in surprise.

“Well, well…” you murmur, pulling out a small Ziploc bag among the usual bandages and ointments.

Seungmin raises an eyebrow when you bring it over and show him. He shakes his head, already deciding it’s a bad idea.

You shrug, holding the pack out to him with a playful smile. “Why not? Let’s live a little.”

“We shouldn’t even be touching his things,” he says, leaning back on the sun lounger.

“What are you talking about? We’ve just eaten his frozen pizza and drunk his champagne,” you remind him, settling onto his lap.

“I can buy those things back for him,” he replies, folding his hands behind his head.

“But he mentioned it, so that means he’s fine with it, right?”

He shakes his head, eyes closed, unwilling to hear more persuasion.

“Come on,” you urge, taking a rolled blunt out of the bag and rolling it between your fingers. “Just one. It’s a special night, isn’t it?”

He opens his eyes and finds himself unable to resist you when you smile so sweetly. He reaches for the blunt.

“Alright, fine," he gives in, "but just one.”

You light it and take a slow drag, letting the smoke curl lazily into the air before handing it over to him. His fingers brush against yours as he inhales, and you watch as his shoulders visibly relax.

The two of you take turns smoking, the night enveloping you in a peaceful cocoon. The quiet of the water, the gentle sway of the boat, and the faint glow of stars above make everything feel far away, as if the world and its complications couldn’t touch you here.

“I could get used to this,” you softly mutter, your voice barely louder than a whisper as you nuzzle into Seungmin’s side, sharing the sun lounger with him, the blunt hanging loosely between your fingers.

Seungmin exhales long and slow, his arm coming around your shoulders to pull you close. “Yeah, me too.”

The smoke, the sea, and the quiet lull you into a different kind of peace—an escape from everything, if only for tonight.

With one last drag, you finish the rest of the blunt yourself. You rest your head on Seungmin’s shoulder, your hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath. For once, you don’t feel like you’re running away from something.

“I wish it could always be like this,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him. “I feel happiest when it’s just us, alone like this.”

Seungmin shifts slightly, his arm tightening around you as if he wants to hold onto this moment forever. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, and your heart flutters in response. He doesn’t say anything at first, just holds you closer, and you wonder if he feels the same way—that the world outside seems so distant when it’s just the two of you.

“I feel it too,” he finally says. “When it’s just us… it feels like everything makes sense. Like we’re the only two people in the world that matter.”

His words make your heart ache with a bittersweet warmth. In a moment like this, it’s easy to forget about the chaos waiting for you back home.

Here, it’s just you and him.

You stare at him, your faces merely inches apart. The moonlight casts a soft glow across his features, and God, he’s just so beautiful. His eyes meet yours, and the longer you look into them, the more you see the depth of his feelings. There’s something tender, something vulnerable—you’ve never seen him look at you like this before.

Seungmin swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if he’s gathering courage. Then, in a soft yet steady voice, he says, “I love you.”

The words hang in the air, suspended between you, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe. He’s never said it before, and hearing those words now, spoken under the starry sky with the waves lapping gently against the boat, it feels… magical.

“I love you,” he repeats, his voice more certain this time, his eyes steady on yours. “I don’t care about the rest of it—our families, the politics, all of it. I love you."

Tears well up in your eyes, not from sadness, but from the overwhelming joy of hearing him say those words. You feel the sincerity in them, the weight of what it means for him to admit it, to declare it, despite everything.

You reach for him, cupping his face in your hands. Using your thumb, you softly rub his cheek. “I love you too, Seungmin, and I think I’ve loved you for longer than I can admit," your voice breaking as you try to hold back your emotions.

Seungmin leans in, closing the small distance between you, and kisses you softly, slowly, as if savoring the moment. His lips are warm against yours, and in that kiss, you feel everything: his love, his promise, his fear, and his hope.

It's the wine, the blunt, the sense of freedom you're feeling at the moment, and the way you keep replaying the moment Seungmin said those three words in the back of your mind—all of those things make you high, so high that you believe you're on the way to cloud nine.

As you sit straddling him, looking down at him, you feel more attracted to him than ever. It's his beautiful face, his short dark hair that complements his features well, how the white shirt he's wearing accentuates the breadth of his shoulders, and the rolled sleeves exposing the evident veins on his arms. Oh, he's just so fucking hot.

You prop your hands on each side of his head and look into the two orbs of his eyes. He remains unfazed by the intensity of your stare, but he would be stupid not to see the want in your eyes.

Unable to help yourself anymore, you lean in and kiss him, and it feels so good when he kisses you back, responding to your desires. But the kiss is just one of many; you want more, you need more.

As your lips are locked in a rapturous kiss, you take his hand and put it around your neck; his touch feels hot against your skin. To allow him more access, you untie your bathrobe and let it fall, pooling around your waist, exposing your bare chest to him.

Seungmin slowly rises from his seat, wrapping his arms around you without breaking the kiss. You whine when he finally detaches his lips and moan when he places them on your neck next.

"Seungmin," you seductively mewl his name as he nibbles on your ear, your head spinning when he sucks on the sensitive skin.

Your heart is pounding in anticipation of what he's going to do next. You look down and find him gazing at you through his lashes as he drags his lips down your chest. His hands are also making their way to the front when, all of a sudden, he does the unexpected.

Seungmin pulls your bathrobe back on you, tying the belt around your waist with his hand. You look at him in slight shock and disbelief; it's a moment later that you're finally able to speak again.

"Why not?" you ask, blinking at him.

"Not here," he simply says, endearingly tucking your hair behind your ear and then kissing your cheek.

What he does would usually make your heart flutter, but you feel bitter from his indirect rejection of your want. "Yeah but why not?"

"Because it's indecent," he innocently answers.

You scoff because back in the hotel room, Seungmin wasn’t shy about doing indecent things—some of which are far more than just indecent.

"Why? We're on a boat, we're alone, we're under a starry sky... it's romantic," you point out why doing it here would make for a special occasion.

He takes your hands and looks at you. "Then let's get inside."

"No," you flatly refuse with a pout.

"Come on," he says, shaking your hands to get your attention. Unsuccessful, he leans in and kisses your jaw before bringing his mouth close to your ear.

"I know another way to make you see stars," he whispers in a low, sultry voice.

Ugh! You hate how easily he cracks through your defenses. You smile at him and nod, allowing him to lead the way to the cabin, through the small living room, and finally into the cramped bedroom.

He grabs you by the waist and steers you to the bed, laying you down gently. He doesn’t hesitate to come on top of you, hovering above you as he captures your lips in a hard, deep kiss that consumes you whole.

Your hands refuse to remain idle; you pop every button on his shirt without looking, and when you’re done, you part it open, impatiently placing your hands on his body, trailing the outline of his abs with your fingertips.

Seungmin lets go of the kiss to take a breather, helping you with the shirt, shaking it off his shoulders, and tossing it aside. But the task is not done there; you loop your finger around the belt loop on his slacks and pull him close.

The head of his belt clinks as you take it off and hastily tear open the zipper. Without wasting a second, you pull his slacks down until they pool around his ankles.

"Oh, la la," you exclaim delightedly, biting your lips at the sight of him standing gloriously naked before you.

"Are you going to do something about it?" he asks, his voice heavy with assertiveness, hinting that he demands you to.

"Uhm... not sure," you coyly say, slowly wrapping your hand around his length and stroking it as it gradually hardens in your palm.

You land a few licks under the tip and around the length, and when you’re ready, you take him into your mouth, compensating the rest with your hand. He feels hot, hard, and veiny, slipping in and out of your mouth while you maintain eye contact with him.

Seungmin grips your shoulder, his nails faintly digging into your flesh, but he’s aware that it might hurt you, so he tangles his fingers in your hair, tugging at it when pleasure overwhelms him.

"Stop!" he gently says, though his voice remains assertive.

You slowly pull away with a string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. He runs his thumb over your lips, separating them before shoving it into your mouth, and you gladly suck on it.

There's a loud pop when Seungmin takes his thumb out, and with his hand on your chest, he pushes you onto the bed, sending you lying back down. He parts your legs and kneels on the floor, wanting to return the favor to you.

All the times he has pleased you with his mouth, he’s done a wonderful job, so you lay on your back and close your eyes, knowing you’re in for a treat.

The kisses he places on your inner thighs are electrifying; his lips are soft as they land on your clit, and his tongue feels hot as he licks a long stripe down your folds. He uses two fingers on each side to pull your folds apart, diving in and drowning himself in you.

"Oh..." you moan as his tongue teases your entrance.

Every kiss, every lick, every place his tongue explores, and every gentle pressure he applies to your clit—Seungmin calculates everything to give you the utmost pleasure. But tonight, he isn’t being generous; he stops just when it starts to feel so good.

You almost groan in frustration, but before it can escape your mouth, he catches your lips in a hungry kiss, making you forget your complaints, your ability to speak, and your whereabouts, but not your wants.

You part your legs wider to welcome him, seeking that closeness, wanting his delicious cock as close as possible to where you want him the most.

"If you don’t put it in, I think I’ll die," you dramatically mutter against his lips.

Seungmin lets out a chuckle and kisses you again. "I want that embroidered on a pillow."

The feeling of your needs finally met—oh, there’s nothing like it. When it comes to Seungmin, though, you’re not sure you’ll ever be satisfied; you keep wanting more.

More of those hard kisses on your lips, more of those hands kneading your breasts and gripping your legs, more of those moans slipping from his mouth into yours, more of his cock slipping in and out of you, more of those hard, shallow thrusts making your eyes roll back—more and more and more...

He isn’t lying when he says he knows another way to make you see stars. As you hit your high and your eyes screw shut, you see nothing but stars.

Seungmin comes not long after, collapsing on top of you. His lips immediately search for yours, kissing you with such haste when they find you.

When you finally pull apart, you both lay there in the silence of the night, wrapped in each other and the warmth of this tender moment. The world outside feels far away, and for now, this is enough—just the two of you, tangled in each other, both of your heads full of stars.

Things are going well. Your relationship with Seungmin remains a secret, and the results of the pre-vote are out, revealing that your father is leading the race by an 8% margin. Everyone is happy, all is well—but you have this nagging feeling in your chest that things won’t stay like this for long. You hope it's for the better, and God, you hope that's true.

To celebrate your father leading in the pre-vote, your family holds a brunch this afternoon. Being invited to this is a significant step toward winning your way back into the family. Your little sister has taken your hand under the table, squeezing it as a sign of solidarity. She hasn’t said it out loud, but you can feel that she’s happy to have you here, part of the family again, even if only for a moment.

However, as the minutes tick by and your father doesn’t appear, a gnawing feeling settles in your chest. You try to brush it off, focusing on how far you’ve come. After all, you’re here, included, proving that you can still be the daughter your family wants you to be.

Then your mother calls you and asks you to follow her to your father’s study. She makes you sit on the leather sofa in anticipation. Her expression is soft, but there’s something behind her eyes that makes your stomach churn, and you know something is wrong before she even speaks.

“When was the last time you saw him?” she asks, her voice quiet but direct.

Your mind flashes back to that night with Seungmin on the boat. You haven’t told anyone, and as far as you know, no one has seen you. But your mother’s gaze is sharp, and she’ll know if you lie.

“I… I went on a boat with Seungmin,” you admit meekly, your voice small and low. “But we were discreet. I swear, no one saw us.”

Your mother lets out a heavy sigh, her hand going to the nape of her neck as she massages it lightly. She doesn’t say anything but takes out her phone from her tweed jacket, tapping the screen a few times before handing it to you. Your eyes widen as you look at the screen, the shock hitting you like a punch to the gut.

There on the screen are photos—compromising photos. Some show you smoking; others are more intimate, even naked. You feel the blood drain from your face. These are pictures from that night on Seungmin’s brother-in-law’s boat, now plastered across the internet.

“Mom…” you stammer, trying to make sense of it. “There was no one there except us. This can’t be happening. It wasn’t Seungmin… it couldn’t be.”

“I’m afraid you weren’t as discreet as you thought,” your mother says, her expression composed but with a grave undertone. “Your father found out about the relationship. He’s furious, and this… this could ruin everything for him.”

You feel faint and hurriedly lean against the table to steady yourself. “No… no, it can’t be. Seungmin would never—”

The idea of Seungmin betraying you is unthinkable, but the pictures don’t lie. Someone had been there, someone had taken them, and now your life is spiraling out of control.

“I don’t believe it’s him,” you insist, shaking your head in denial. “Seungmin wouldn’t do this to me. He cares about me.”

“Think about what’s best for you,” your mother says, her voice rising slightly as she struggles to keep her composure. “Whether it’s Seungmin or his family behind this, we can’t take any more risks. You need to stay away from him, at least until I can figure out what’s really going on.”

Your heart aches, torn between your love for Seungmin and the loyalty you’re still trying to prove to your family.

“I’m sending you back to your hotel,” she says in a tone that leaves no room for argument. “And you’re not to leave until I say it’s safe. Your father is already angry enough, and we can’t afford any more mistakes.”

Before you can protest, she leaves, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving you standing in the middle of the room. You want to believe in Seungmin, but now doubts plague your mind. A question gnaws at you: Is your love for Seungmin worth risking everything you have left?

The car ride back to the hotel is a blur of tears and shattered trust. Your chest feels heavy, the weight of betrayal pressing down on you, suffocating you.

The man you trusted, the one who held you close, is part of the very family responsible for leaking those photos. Whether Seungmin is directly involved or not doesn’t matter anymore—his family is, and that’s enough for you to push him away.

The car pulls up to the curb, and the doorman is there instantly, opening the door and offering his hand to help you out. You feel faint, your legs trembling from the emotions raging inside, but you force yourself to stand, to walk, and to keep your head up if you can.

Just as you step onto the pavement, a familiar hand grabs your arm. You stop in your tracks, your heart aching in your chest.

Seungmin. He’s there, his eyes wide with worry, as if he hadn’t expected to see you like this. And oh, the sight of him, the man you thought you could trust, brings everything crashing down.

Without thinking, you rush at him, your fists pounding against his chest in a fit of anger and betrayal.

“How could you?!” you scream through your tears, each punch that lands fueled by the pain inside. “How could you let them do this to me?!”

Seungmin doesn’t fight back. He just stands there, letting you hit him, his face filled with shock and pain as he tries to reach for you, to explain.

“It wasn’t me,” he tries to say, but the words are lost in the chaos of your emotions. “You know I’d never—”

“Stop lying!” you shout, cutting him off.

Your emotions hit their boiling point, the pain overwhelming you. “You expect me to believe you didn’t know? That this wasn’t some way to tear me apart?”

His eyes widen in disbelief, his hands reaching for you, but you slap them away. “I don’t know who’s doing this, but I would never let anyone hurt you like this. You have to believe me!”

“Believe you? After everything that’s happened? I’ve been humiliated, and you come here pretending like you had nothing to do with it?” Your voice rises with every word, and you’re too far gone, too hurt.

He tries again, stepping closer, but you shove him hard enough that he staggers backward. “I can’t even look at you right now. Get out! Get the fuck out of my face!” you scream, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Seeing you like this is painful for him, but not as painful as knowing he caused this. His hands tremble as he tries one last time to reach for you. “Please, don’t do this—let’s talk—”

Drawn by the commotion, hotel security steps in between you and him, blocking him from approaching you.

“Sir, you need to leave,” one of them says, placing a firm hand on Seungmin’s shoulder.

“Wait! Just let me talk to her!” He tries to push past them, but they hold him back, stronger.

It’s too late. You’ve already turned away, not even sparing him a last glance. He can’t bear the thought of being the cause of all this.

As the door of your hotel room clicks shut behind you, the silence fills the room, and everything comes crashing down again. This time, you don’t have anything left to fight with, so you let the pain and heartbreak consume you, sinking to the floor as tears flood your eyes.

It hits you now—you’ve pushed away the one person you thought you could trust, but everything feels broken beyond repair. It feels like you’re losing everything: your family, your trust, and the man you thought was different.

Leaning against the closed door that seals you off from the outside world, you wonder if there’s anything left to hold on to.

The more Seungmin thinks about it, the more certain he becomes that there is only one person who could have leaked the photos—someone who knew about the boat, someone involved. His brother-in-law.

He doesn’t waste any more time. He grabs his car keys and drives straight to his brother-in-law’s place. A storm rages in his chest, anger mixed with dread, his head full of accusations and possible answers.

When he arrives, he skips the courtesies and storms inside. He finds his brother-in-law leaning against the kitchen counter, looking surprised but not startled to see him.

“Seungmin? What’s going on?” he casually asks.

Seungmin doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of him, glaring into his eyes, refusing to be fooled again.

“You know damn well what’s going on. You’re the only one who knew about the boat, the only one who could’ve tipped off the paparazzi. Tell me the truth!" He slams his hand on the counter, causing a spoon resting on the edge of a bowl to clatter. "Did you leak those photos?”

His brother-in-law’s face tenses, the calm façade slipping, replaced by panic. “Look, Seungmin, before you go off—”

“Just answer me!” Seungmin urges, his voice cracking with anger. He can’t bear the thought that someone so close to him—someone he thought of as a brother—has betrayed him like this.

After an intense silence, his brother-in-law sighs and rubs his forehead. “Fine. Yes, I hired the paparazzi.”

Deep down, Seungmin knew this would be the answer, but it doesn’t stop the anger and betrayal surging through him. His hands ball into fists at his sides, his body shaking from holding back violence.

“You set us up? Why?”

His brother-in-law looks at him and licks his lips before answering, “It wasn’t just me, alright? I had permission—permission from your father.”

Seungmin could understand his brother-in-law’s motive: he wants to get on his father’s good side, to be acknowledged and approved. But his father? His own father, whom Seungmin respects and admires, someone he has helped campaign for because he believes in him?

“My father? He knew? He approved this?” Seungmin stammers, struggling to comprehend it.

“Your father’s been watching you, Seungmin. He knows about your little affair with her, and he’s not happy. So yeah, he gave the go-ahead. The idea was to expose her, make her the problem,” his brother-in-law explains, and as if he couldn’t say anything more stupid, he adds, “It’s nothing personal, just politics.”

Seungmin knocks everything off the table—plates, glass, spoon—all clattering to the floor. “You ruined her life for politics!" he shouts, hoping it’ll knock some sense into his brother-in-law’s crooked mind.

“You know how this works, Seungmin,” his brother-in-law says calmly, still leaning against the counter. “Your father is just trying to protect you.”

“Protect me? By destroying her? By ruining her reputation?” Seungmin’s jaw clenches as he fists his hands so hard his knuckles turn white.

“She’s not innocent in all of this, and you know you shouldn’t have gotten involved with her in the first place,” his brother-in-law says, his gaze piercing.

It’s betrayal upon betrayal. Seungmin’s mind is still struggling to process the fact that his father orchestrated the entire thing, using his brother-in-law to tear them apart.

Without another word, Seungmin storms out, but his brother-in-law daringly runs his mouth once more, “You’ll thank me later, Seungmin. Trust me.”

But Seungmin isn’t listening. His mind is busy planning what to do next—how to fix this, how to make things right. His number one priority is not letting his family ruin your life any further.

Seungmin storms into his father’s office, despite his father clearly being in the middle of an interview. His father hurriedly signals his secretary to escort the interviewer out of the room, knowing Seungmin is barely containing his anger.

The man behind the desk doesn’t flinch, already knowing why his son is there. He’s always composed and in control, but today, Seungmin isn’t going to let him keep that control.

“You set me up,” Seungmin spits, his voice sharp with betrayal. His father looks up, surprised but not shaken. “You used your own son to destroy her, to ruin her life, just because of some political rivalry?”

His father leans back in his chair, calmly putting his hands together in front of him. “It’s not about you, Seungmin. It’s about our family’s legacy. You were distracted, involved with the wrong person. I had to make sure you stayed focused on what really matters.”

“What really matters?” Seungmin’s voice shakes with disbelief and anger. “What really matters is that you took someone I care about and humiliated her! For what? Your campaign?”

“That girl was trouble,” his father remarks coldly. “She’s from a family that stands against everything we’re trying to build. You should have known better.”

“I don’t care about the politics!” Seungmin shouts, stepping closer to his father’s desk, unafraid for the first time of going against his father’s principles. “I care about her, and you—you ruined her for your own gain.”

His father stands, towering over the desk and staring intensely into his eyes. “You think you can just walk away from this? From your family? We’ve sacrificed everything for you, Seungmin. You’re going to be a part of this, whether you like it or not.”

“No, I’m not. I’m done with all of this. I’ll never be a part of this family again,” Seungmin says, shaking his head, done being a pawn in his father’s political games.

His father’s eyes darken, and a cold smirk rises at the corner of his lips. “You think this is all about one girl?” he scoffs.

“You’re naïve, Seungmin. You haven’t been in this world long enough to understand how power works. Sacrifices have to be made. And if you walk away from this family, from me, there’s more where that came from.”

Seungmin’s chest tightens with disbelief. “What do you mean by that?”

His father leans forward, his voice low and dangerous. “You think those were the only photos? There’s more from her past. I have them, and if you walk away now—if you so much as think about turning your back on this family—I will release every last one. She won’t have a life left to salvage.”

His father pulls open a drawer and takes out a file, showing Seungmin the photos he’s been keeping as a weapon. “But if you stay—if you fall in line and keep your head down until the election is over—I’ll make sure they disappear.”

Seungmin is hit with another wave of betrayal. His father had planned this all along, dangling her reputation as leverage over him. He expected manipulation, but this? This was beyond anything he could have imagined.

“You’re willing to destroy everything just for power?”

His father doesn’t flinch. “It’s not about power, Seungmin. It’s about winning. And I have won.”

TEN DAYS LATER.

The election is over, and his father has indeed won, but to Seungmin, it means he has nothing left to lose.

The man in front of him has torn apart the one thing that means the most to him, and for what? A title? A seat in the governor’s office?

As everyone gathers around his father, congratulating him and celebrating his victory, Seungmin can't help but wonder: does his father feel the slightest bit of disgust for what he did to achieve this win? Seungmin certainly does. He can't look at his father the same way anymore and he refuses being related to him apart from sharing the same DNA.

Seungmin makes his way toward his father, and when he's close enough, he extends his hand. His father doesn't hesitate and grips it, shaking it with a triumphant smile plastered across his face.

"Are you happy now?" Seungmin asks calmly.

"Well, I've won," his father replies with a sickening smirk.

There’s not a hint of remorse on his face for what he did to his own son, which only convinces Seungmin further that he wants no part of this anymore.

"But you've lost your son," Seungmin boldly remarks, each word carrying a finality his father can’t ignore.

Without waiting for his father’s reply, Seungmin turns on his heel and walks away—from his father, his family, everything. He leaves the office behind, as if it’s already become a distant memory.

There's only one thing left to do now.

He drives straight to your father’s campaign headquarters because he doesn't know where else to start. Your family is the only one who knows where you are, and although he doubts any of them would tell him, he can’t—he mustn't—give up.

When he arrives, the place is busy with activity, but it offers a different kind of atmosphere compared to his father’s headquarters. He balls his hands into fists in determination and enters the building without hesitation.

"Apologies, sir, but the headquarters is strictly for staff only tonight," a security guard blocks him from stepping inside.

"I need to talk to someone in there," Seungmin says, hoping the guard will understand and let him through.

"Unless you’ve already made an appointment, we can't let you in, sir," the guard says firmly, crossing his arms and standing in front of the doorway.

Reluctantly, Seungmin steps back, trying to come up with a new plan. He considers waiting outside until one of your family members leaves. It’s a flawed idea, but it’s the best one he has.

Then, as if by divine intervention, your younger sister appears at the reception desk. Seungmin takes a step closer to the entrance, ignoring the guard, and does everything he can to catch her attention, even calling her by her full name.

She looks over her shoulder and, upon seeing him, her expression turns cold and defensive. She never trusted him, and Seungmin doesn’t blame her. Still, he’s desperate, and this might be his only chance to find you.

“I need to know where she is,” Seungmin says, his voice steady but pleading. “I need to see her before it’s too late.”

Your sister crosses her arms, scrutinizing him. "Why should I help you? After everything that’s happened, why should I trust you?"

His throat tightens, but he meets her gaze with unwavering sincerity. “Because I love her. I had no part in what my father did. I’d give up everything to be with her. I already have.”

There’s a long pause as your sister’s expression shifts, her defenses slowly lowering. Perhaps she sees the earnestness in his eyes, the depth of his regret, and his determination.

She turns to the receptionist, writes something down on a piece of paper, and hands it to him. “If you break her heart again, I swear to God...” she mutters, leaving the threat unfinished.

Seungmin’s heart leaps. He’s just met her, but she already feels more like family than his own ever has. “Thank you," he says, his voice full of gratitude.

“She’s leaving the country tomorrow, so you’d better hurry,” she adds, turning away before he can say anything more.

Every second becomes precious as his heart pounds with a new sense of urgency. This is it. He won’t lose you—not to his father, not to the mess his family has created. This time, nothing will stop him.

The country house is quiet, almost too quiet. The only sounds are the soft rustling of the trees outside and the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards beneath your feet. The room is stifling, but it’s your thoughts that press down on you the most. You fold another shirt and tuck it into your suitcase, packing for tomorrow, planning to leave nothing behind.

It was a mistake to come back here, and you know it now. This city was once a refuge; now, it feels like a prison, a place to hide. You’ve become a liability to your family, and your father made that painfully clear when he sent you here. You were told to stay quiet, remain hidden, and leave without a trace in the morning.

There’s no future for you here anyway.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you zip up the suitcase. You can’t take any more of this—feeling like a pawn in a game that was never yours to play. Leaving is the only choice left. It’s for the best, even if it means abandoning everything you’ve ever known. It’s not an easy decision, but you force yourself to push through it.

Then, suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, breaking the stillness of the night.

Your heart leaps, and for a moment, you freeze. You remember your father’s warnings: Never open the door. No one is to know you’re here. Stay hidden. You take a step back, away from the door.

Another knock comes, this time more urgent.

You remain still, holding your breath, praying that whoever it is will go away. But then you hear a voice—his voice.

“Please... it’s me, Seungmin.”

Your heart races at the sound of his voice, familiar and full of emotion. You badly want to rush to the door, to throw it open and fall into his arms, but the alarm bells in your head ring louder. You can’t. You shouldn’t.

“I know you’re in there,” Seungmin says, his voice breaking between words. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Please... just let me in.”

You clench your fists, torn between what you know is right and the ache in your chest. You stay quiet, pressing your back against the door, fighting the overwhelming urge to respond.

"I had to find you," Seungmin continues, his voice softer now, almost desperate. “I couldn’t let you leave without seeing you. I can’t lose you—not after everything we’ve been through.”

Tears well in your eyes as you lean your forehead against the door, trying to keep your emotions in check. You *shouldn’t* let him in. This is a mistake—all of it—but hearing him on the other side, so close yet out of reach, is tearing you apart.

“I just want to be with you," Seungmin whispers. "I love you.”

The words break something inside you, and before you realize what you’re doing, your hand is on the doorknob. Torn between fear and love, you know you shouldn’t open the door, but your heart is aching for him. No matter how hard you try, you can’t ignore the pull you feel toward him.

“Please, don’t shut me out," he mutters, his voice thick with hopelessness.

Your walls crumble almost immediately and with shaking hands, you unlock the door and pull it open, revealing Seungmin standing there, his face full of worry and relief. His eyes soften the moment they meet yours. Without a word, he steps forward and takes you into his arms.

He holds you tightly, his warmth familiar and comforting. He feels like home. Finally, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

Seungmin buries his face in your hair, whispering, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You pull back just enough to look up at him, your eyes searching his. In that moment, without thinking, you lean in and press your lips to his—a kiss full of longing and everything you’ve been holding back for so long.

In the quiet of that night, with the stars shining through the open window and the future uncertain, you know that, despite everything, being with him is the only thing that makes sense.

The soft glow of moonlight filters through the curtains, casting a delicate sheen across the room. Your naked bodies are entwined beneath the sheets, the warmth of the moment lingering between you.

Seungmin hovers above you, his chest rising and falling as he gently caresses your face, his fingertips tracing the outline of your cheek like you are something sacred. His gaze is intense but tender, as if memorizing every part of you, still unable to believe you are really here in his arms.

His touch is soft, but the weight of the emotions between you is palpable. You can feel it in the way his fingers brush over your skin. He hasn’t said much, but his eyes tell everything—relief, love, fear of what could have been if he had lost you for good.

“I almost lost you,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing your lips. You lean into his touch, savoring the feeling of being so close, so connected. “I don’t ever want to feel that again.”

You gaze up at him, your heart aching with affection. Here, in this moment, it is just you and him, and nothing else matters.

Seungmin lowers his head to place a soft kiss on your forehead, then your lips, as if sealing some unspoken promise between the two of you.

“Let’s go somewhere,” his lips brush against yours with every word. “Let's start over, somewhere far away from all of this.”

The invitation comes so suddenly that you don’t know how to react. You blink up at him, feeling a mix of emotions—hope, love, but also fear. You love him deeply, more than you thought was possible, but you don’t want him to lose everything for you the way you have for him.

“Seungmin…” you whisper, your voice barely audible as your hand comes up to cup his face. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to lose your family, not like I did.”

“I’m sure,” he says firmly, his voice filled with conviction. “This, us, it’s what I want. I want to leave all of this behind and just be with you.”

A tear rolls down your cheek as you stare into his eyes, seeing the truth in his words, the earnestness of his intentions. While it makes you indescribably happy, it also breaks your heart a little. He is giving up everything—his family, his place in their world—just to be with you. You love him more for it, but it's also a heavy burden to bear.

“You really mean that?” you ask, your voice trembling with emotion.

Seungmin nods, his forehead pressing gently against yours. “Yes. This is what I want.”

It feels like the world has finally shifted, like things are starting to fall into place. Even though the future is still uncertain, you believe in him, in the two of you together, and that's enough.

“I love you,” you whisper, pulling him down into a soft, lingering kiss. “As long as we’re together, everything’s going to be okay.”

He kisses you back, holding you tightly against him, and in that moment, everything becomes clear. This is not just a mere coincidence. This is fate. You and Seungmin, together, is fate.

The hum of the plane's engines is comforting, familiar, as you both settle into your seats, side by side.

The memory of that first flight together—the stolen glances, the whispered conversations—comes rushing back, but this time it feels different. This is a new beginning, a chance to start over.

Seungmin glances over at you, a playful glint filling his warm brown eyes. He shifts in his seat, turning toward you just like he had the first time.

"Hi, I’m Seungmin,” he softly says, offering his hand in mock formality, his smile full of warmth. “Traveling alone?”

You can’t help but smile back, slipping your hand into his. “Nice to meet you. And I’m traveling with someone very special, actually.”

You both chuckle, the familiarity of the moment easing the tension of everything that came before. It's like stepping into a memory but with the promise of something better ahead.

Seungmin’s eyes soften as he looks at you, and he leans in closer, his voice lowering.

“Business or pleasure?” you ask playfully, replaying the conversation that had sparked your connection all those months ago.

“Neither,” he answers, his voice gentle but certain. “I’m traveling for a happy ending.”

His words send a flutter through your chest, and you feel the warmth spread all the way to your fingertips. You look at him, your heart overflowing with emotion, knowing that this isn’t just a flight—it is a leap into the unknown, into something new and full of possibility.

You squeeze his hand, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin against yours. “A happy ending,” you repeat with a smile.

As the plane begins to taxi down the runway, he intertwines his fingers with yours, holding on tightly, unwilling to let go. You both stare out the window, watching the world fall away beneath you, your hearts beating in sync.

And as the plane lifts off, climbing higher into the sky, you know that whatever the future holds, as long as you are together, everything will be okay.

The past is behind you now, and in this moment, with Seungmin by your side, the world feels wide open, full of hope and promise. Into a happy ending, you go.

Support my works by kindly reblog, comment or consider tipping me on my ko-fi!

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617 notes · View notes

hamilton-here · 1 month ago

Note

ok so ive got a funny idea lol when lewis promises to buy reader a bag or anything she wants as long as she wins their toy car race. And when she was abt to win lewis playfully snatched or cheated his way and then reader just became sad for the whole day pouting or just feeling small and lewis has to buy her everything now cause he's guilty and he feels sorry i just think this will be fun can be comfort to fluff pls thank u :))))

𝒲𝒾𝓃𝓃𝑒𝓇 𝒯𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈 𝐼𝓉 𝒜𝓁𝓁

Authors Note: Hi lovelies! Here’s another request completed. Sorry if it seemed rushed I didn’t know what else to add to it. Few more requests coming soon. Hopefully Lewis’s car is alright for qualifying. Lots of love xx

Summary: Lewis and his partner turn their living room into a chaotic toy car racetrack, sparking a playful, competitive showdown.

Warnings: none

Taglist: @nebulastarr @hannibeeblog @cosmichughes

MASTERLIST

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

The sun filtered through the blinds in lazy golden stripes, painting the living room in warm lines of light and shadow. Dust danced quietly in the beams, undisturbed by the chaos below. Because chaos, clearly, had taken over.

The room your once pristine, neutral-toned sanctuary now looked like it had been hijacked by Formula 1 meets Pinterest meets a group of unsupervised toddlers with a racing addiction.

Couch cushions had been unceremoniously yanked from their usual dignified places and reimagined as trackside barriers. A yoga mat, curling slightly at the edges, ran from the hallway entrance all the way to the centre of the rug, proudly marking the “main straight” in what had to be the world’s most low-budget Grand Prix.

A scattering of coasters had been turned into devilish little chicanes, cruel and precise. A cutting board formed a vicious hairpin turn so sharp it should have had a safety marshal. Two rolling pins heavy, wooden, unforgiving lined one corner like immovable Armco barriers.

There were sauce packets carefully labeled “debris,” a tea strainer in the middle of the track pretending to be a wire fence, and most hauntingly a fork stabbed into a raw potato, wearing a tiny paper hat labeled “Track Marshal.” You didn’t know whether to applaud the commitment or start googling “symptoms of cabin fever in grown men.”

And amid the carnage stood Lewis Hamilton.

Seven-time world champion. Fashion icon. Advocate. National treasure. The man you loved. Currently crouched like a tiger mid-stalk in front of the couch, wearing sweats, a vintage tee, and the steely focus of a man about to go to war.

He was breathing slowly, fingers flexed, eyes narrowed on the tiny black Matchbox Mercedes parked in front of him like it owed him money. He looked like he was about to give it a pep talk.

The toy car’s paint gleamed ominously in the afternoon light, poised like a weapon. Lewis exhaled softly across its hood like he was whispering encouragement into its plastic soul.

From the doorway, you stared at him, your oversized hoodie swallowing your frame, fuzzy socks peeking out like the least intimidating pit crew in the world. Your arms crossed.

“Are you seriously doing tire warmups with a Matchbox car?”

Lewis didn’t flinch. His grin was slow, boyish, and devastating. The kind of grin that had gotten him out of a thousand sticky situations media drama, late-night snack theft, one time even a broken vase. You were not immune.

“Gotta get temperature into the rubber,” he said solemnly, eyes still on his car.

You stepped carefully onto the yoga mat, your sock slipping slightly. “It’s plastic, Lewis.”

“Same principle,” he said, reaching out to nudge the car gently, then pulling it back, like he was checking tire scrub. He sniffed. “I smell victory.”

Your eyes swept across the setup. The absurdity of it. The engineering. The madness. You resisted the urge to start filming barely.

“Let me guess,” you said dryly. “Carbon fibre chassis. Two grams of downforce. And a suspicious advantage in Sector 3?”

Lewis lifted his chin, completely deadpan. “Mini Merc’s been in the wind tunnel all morning.”

“You blew on it.”

“That counts.”

You let out a snort and crossed the room to the box near the bookcase, the one filled with random old toys and mementos from your childhood.

You rummaged through it until your hand landed on a familiar shape. A red toy car slightly battered, plastic paint chipped at the edges, its wheels squeaking when you gave them a spin. You held it up like Excalibur.

“And here she is,” you announced grandly. “The challenger. The undefeated. Feared by controllers everywhere. Bane of egos. Reigning champion of the great Uno War of 2023.”

Lewis rolled his eyes. “That controller was cursed. It had stick drift.”

“You lost eleven times.”

“I was experimenting with alternate strategy.”

“Getting reverse-lapped is not a strategy.”

Lewis cracked his neck like he was prepping for Baku. “Best of three?”

Fifteen minutes later, the living room no longer resembled a place where humans might relax.

It had become a coliseum.

The track had evolved: now including a loop made from your old scarf, a jump constructed with baking trays, and an “elevator shaft” involving a phone charger, a shoebox lid, and very questionable physics.

There was a pit stop zone made of empty candle jars. One of your houseplants had been repositioned to serve as track scenery. And at the centre of it all stood your mutual friend, Miles chaos incarnated, occasional barista, and current kitchen gremlin perched on the counter like a sentient gargoyle.

He was wearing a mixing bowl on his head like a helmet and a whisk tucked into his shirt collar like a mic.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen,” Miles announced into his phone, already live on Instagram. “To the 2024 Toy Car Grand Prix: Monaco Living Room Edition. I’m your commentator, race steward, and part-time sous chef, Miles.”

He angled the instagram live camera toward Lewis, who crouched dramatically at the start line, one hand hovering over the Matchbox Mercedes like a priest preparing for last rites.

“And here we have Lewis Hamilton. Some say he’s the greatest of all time. Others say he’s about to lose to a woman who sharpened her race craft on Mario Kart and vengeance.”

Lewis didn’t even look up. “You’re biased.”

“I’ve known her since university,” Miles said with a shrug. “And I’ve seen what she can do with a hairpin turn and caffeine. You’re toast, mate.”

The livestream chat exploded.

@Ava4LH: IS THAT A TRACK MADE OF COASTERS??

@softforlewis: Not Lewis giving full race energy with a toy car

@PastryQueenY/N: Y/N better win that bag, I SWEAR

@WheresBono: “We need to box now.” broooooo

Miles waved dramatically at the screen. “On pole, we have Y/N ‘Croissant Queen’ L/N. In P2, it’s Lewis ‘I Blew on My Car for Speed’ Hamilton!”

Lewis was flat on the floor beside Mini Merc. You knelt beside your car, steely-eyed. The prize sat in plain view dream: a caramel-coloured croissant-shaped purse with a gold chain. The most deliciously stupid bag in history. The bag you had begged for. The bag Lewis had mocked for weeks.

“I win, I get the croissant bag,” you said firmly.

Lewis raised a brow. “And if I win, I want a full spa day. Robes. Oils. Face masks. And not a single complaint.”

“Deal.”

Miles held up three fingers. “Three…two…one GO!”

Chaos exploded.

Your little red car shot off the line like a missile. Lewis’s Mercedes wobbled dramatically at the cutting board hairpin and clipped a coaster on the way through.

“There’s contact in Sector One!” Miles roared. “Red car leads through the coasters! Hamilton’s on the back foot!”

You were flicking your car with laser precision. “DRS activated. Let’s go.”

Lewis grunted, eyes narrowed. “Saving tires. Softs are dropping off. Pace is coming to me.”

“Maybe ask Bono,” you teased.

The chat was in hysterics.

@DRSDramaQueen: “Ask Bono” NOOOOOO

@JusticeForRedCar: Y/N DRIVING LIKE SHE’S IN MONACO

@TeamRedCar: Lewis is getting smoked

@F1butMakeItKitchen: this is better than Quali

Suddenly, Lewis’s car hit a rogue stack of cookbooks turned barricade and went airborne.

“HE’S OFF!” Miles screamed, nearly dropping his phone. “MERCEDES IN THE WALL!”

Lewis hissed, “We need to box now.”

More chat chaos:

@MiniW13: He SAID THE THING

@CarlosSainz55: bro is doing full commentary on a toy race I CAN’T

@CharlesLeclerc: justice for Y/N please she’s too good

@Lando.jpg: This is the best thing I’ve seen all week

You were wheezing from laughter, your car flying over the shoebox ramp with grace. “Momentums clean. No lockups. You good back there, champ?”

Lewis was sweating. “You’ve got illegal aero.”

“Cry about it.”

You were inches from the towel-draped finish line, victory in sight, the croissant bag gleaming -

SLAM.

Lewis’s hand came down from the heavens like Thor’s hammer, crushing your car mid-run.

The room fell dead silent.

Miles whispered, “ Sir…he did not.”

You stood slowly, spine ramrod straight. You walked to Miles, took his phone and stared straight into the livestream camera.

“This,” you said, voice calm, “is a robbery. Tell the FIA. Tell the UN. Tell God.”

The chat exploded.

@ScandalInSector3: FIA INVESTIGATION NOW

@ToyCarGate: HE DESTROYED HER CAR

@Lando.jpg: I’m crying. This is high treason.

@PastryQueenY/N: GET HER THAT BAG

You lifted your fallen soldier with reverent hands, cradling it like a fallen knight, and walked away without another word.

As Miles recorded every single thing… ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

Lewis stood in the kitchen in stunned silence.

You were curled up on the couch in full dramatic widow mode: three blankets, fuzzy socks, and Gilmore Girls at max volume. You didn’t blink in his direction. You didn’t breathe in his direction.

Lewis tried everything.

“Want a milkshake?”

No response.

“…Boba?”

TV volume increased.

“Diamond earrings? Ferrari keychain? A small castle?”

You texted Miles from the couch: Tell your best friend I’m taking the croissant bag to court.

Miles peeked in. “Bro. She’s like mythical-level mad.”

Lewis groaned. “I know. I can feel the disappointment. It’s like tire degradation, but emotional.”

An hour passed. You posted a poll: Should I forgive Lewis? “No” was winning at 96%.

Finally, Lewis vanished.

Ten minutes later, he emerged wearing a suit jacket over pyjama pants, holding a legal pad.

“I present Exhibit A,” he announced solemnly. “In the case of Lewis Hamilton vs. The Bag He Mocked.”

You stared at him, unamused.

He dropped to his knees. “I’m guilty. Of sabotage. Of hubris. Of crimes against Matchbox humanity. But I panicked. You were so good - so annoyingly good. I’ve never been so intimidated by someone in fuzzy socks.”

Still silence.

“…I love you,” he added, gently. “And I got you something.”

He placed a shopping bag in your lap.

You peeked inside.

There it was. The croissant bag. Plush. Shiny. Ridiculous. Beautiful.

Inside? Pearl earrings and a folded note:

“Sorry for being a cheater. I love you. I’ll never sabotage your toy car again (probably). Please keep loving me anyway.”

Your lips twitched. You tried so hard not to smile.

“Fine,” you muttered. “But next time? I’m gluing your hands to the floor.”

He wrapped you in a hug, warm and cologne scented. “Deal. I’ll buy glue in bulk.”

You buried your face in his neck. “And I want the cinnamon bun one next.”

“Whole pastry collection. Yours.” ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

TWO DAYS LATER – PODIUM CEREMONY

Miles was back in full commentator mode, wearing a towel-cape and colander crown. You stood proudly on a stepstool; a dishtowel draped like a flag. Lewis stood beside you, presenting the croissant bag like a trophy.

“We are LIVE for the podium ceremony of the 2024 Toy Car Grand Prix!” Miles boomed. “Our champion, Y/N L/N, receives the Croissant Cup for unmatched driving skill, bravery, and pastry obsession!”

Lewis bowed, solemn. “For justice. For fashion. For the fallen red car.”

You shook his hand with mock seriousness. “I accept your surrender.”

The livestream chat lit up:

@HamiltonsRedemption: SHE WON JUSTICE

@Y/N4WDC: SIGN HER TOTO

@CarlosSainz55: I’m naming my next kart after her

@CharlesLeclerc: this is better than any podium I’ve ever done

@Lando.jpg: Miles needs a full-time F1 commentary gig

You leaned into Lewis’s ear and whispered, “Next time I’m breaking your car.”

He grinned. “Next time? I’m bringing a pit crew.”

And somewhere in the comments, a new hashtag was born:

#ToyCarGP

#JusticeForRedCar

#CroissantChampion ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

Thursday Media Day – Paddock Interviews, Monaco Grand Prix

The Mediterranean sun shimmered over the marina, catching the curves of multi-million-dollar yachts and bouncing off the mirrored glass of the motorhomes lining the narrow paddock walkways. Monaco always had a different kind of electricity to it where opulence met chaos and champagne clinked just out of frame.

The Mercedes media zone was buzzing. Reporters loitered near the barriers, tech crews hoisted camera rigs onto their shoulders, and PR reps whispered into headsets while frantically scanning for any sign of tardy drivers.

Lewis Hamilton was right on time, of course.

Wearing a crisp white Mercedes polo, a silver watch glinting at his wrist and his signature cap tugged low, he stood with the relaxed confidence of someone who knew he was about to be grilled and secretly enjoyed it. His grin had been sitting just on the edge of cocky all morning. The reason? You.

It didn’t take long.

A Sky Sports reporter leaned forward with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. “Lewis,” she said sweetly, “we need to talk about the Toy Car Grand Prix.”

He blinked slowly, head tilting like a man playing innocent in court. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

Another voice chimed in from the back. “Mate, there’s a livestream. You’re trending in three different countries.”

Lewis’s smirk finally cracked. “Miles is banned from our house,” he muttered.

Laughter rippled through the crowd of reporters.

“Word on the street is you committed grand larceny,” she teased.

He let out a dramatic sigh, glancing up at the sky like asking for divine intervention. “Look. The car was half a centimetre from the line. I panicked. She was too fast. I wasn’t ready.”

“Too fast?” a new voice cut in, dry and laced with a level of sarcasm that only years of corporate leadership could sharpen.

Toto Wolff had arrived.

Wearing perfectly tailored black slacks, a crisp button-down and his ever-iconic sunglasses, he strolled into view like a Bond villain with an espresso addiction. He folded his arms, taking his place beside Lewis like a man stepping into a courtroom.

“You know,” he began, nodding thoughtfully, “I watched the replay. All sectors. I had our data analysts break it downturn-by-turn.”

Lewis groaned under his breath. “Toto, I’m begging you…”

“I’m just saying,” Toto continued, voice level. “She had better tire management, better throttle control, and most importantly didn’t smash anyone into the cookbook chicane you insisted on naming after Gordon Ramsay.”

A wave of giggles rolled through the press line.

“She also didn’t sabotage her opponent,” Toto added, lifting a perfectly judgmental eyebrow. “Unlike some of our drivers.”

Lewis turned to the cameras. “This is slander. This is organised defamation from within my own team.”

Toto lifted a hand in faux innocence. “No, no. We take these things seriously at Mercedes. We’re committed to nurturing talent.” He turned to the reporters as if making a public declaration from the steps of a royal palace. “Effective immediately, I’m considering replacing Lewis Hamilton with his girlfriend for the rest of the 2024 season. Primarily because I still harbour resentment against him for attending Ferrari the next year.”

Cameras flashed. Microphones were shoved forward. Laughter echoed like it was a stand-up routine. The media was all over Toto’s last comment.

Lewis clutched at his chest dramatically. “I’ve been stabbed in the back.”

“She’s got race instincts. The fans love her. She’s marketable. She doesn’t throw tantrums in the debrief room.”

“And she’s really, really pretty,” a voice muttered from the back.

Lando Norris appeared, already grinning like he’d been waiting for this exact moment to stir chaos.

“Are we still talking about the toy car race?” he asked, hands in the pockets of his Mercedes hoodie.

Lewis groaned. “Don’t you start.”

“She destroyed you, mate,” Lando said, eyes wide with mock awe. “That red car? I’ve seen less commitment at Turn 1 in Silverstone. She was clinical.”

“You too, Lando?” Lewis muttered, eyes narrowed.

Carlos Sainz drifted in behind them, holding a tiny espresso cup in one hand and watching the scene unfold with the quiet pleasure of a man who rarely got to be on this side of the teasing.

“I’d sign her,” he said with a shrug. “Ferrari could use someone who doesn’t complain about tire deg every four laps.”

“Wow,” Lewis deadpanned. “This paddock is hostile.”

Then Charles Leclerc appeared, sunglasses perched atop his head, Monaco’s golden child looking too smug for his own good.

“She’s Monaco-born now,” he said with a grin. “We claim her.”

“No,” Lewis said firmly, holding up a finger like he was laying down law. “You are not putting her in red. I’m not losing another championship that way.”

Even the media couldn’t help themselves. Laughter echoed again as photographers snapped away, capturing the chaos for tomorrow’s back pages.

Meanwhile, in the Mercedes hospitality unit…

You sat curled up on a white leather sofa, the soft hum of the AC battling the heat outside. A giant screen in front of you played the interview in real-time. Beside you, Miles was halfway through a bag of popcorn, eyes wide with glee.

You, of course, were wearing the croissant bag. Proudly. Defiantly. Like a medal of honour from your own private war.

“He’s suffering,” Miles whispered reverently. “You look so smug. I’m obsessed.”

You sipped your coffee slowly. “I earned this. Every bit of it.”

The screen flickered back to Lewis, who was now attempting to salvage what remained of his dignity.

A reporter leaned forward. “Final question, champ. Any words for your girlfriend our new potential F1 star?”

He paused.

Then he looked directly into the camera. The teasing fell away for just a moment. His eyes were soft, voice warm and honest.

“She’s ruthless,” he said. “And brilliant. And I’m definitely not racing her in the house again without legal backup.” A beat. “But tell Toto to calm down. She’s already got my heart. She doesn’t need my seat too.”

The crowd awwwed as if on cue. Even Charles made an exaggerated swooning motion behind him.

Back on the couch, you felt a slow smile stretch across your face. You reached for your phone and typed a single message, your thumb hovering over the screen before hitting send.

Better start building your own croissant car, champ if you ever decide to beat me.

#lewis hamilton #lh44 #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #x reader #lh44 x reader #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton x you #lh44 imagine #lewis hamilton one shot #team lh44 #f1 one shot #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1

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pinkkpjobx · 4 months ago

Note

can you do an imagine where jj is obsessed with reader but he’s also very shy around her like he’s always confident and his flirty self with everyone else but with reader he just gets flustered everytime he’s around her. maybe him asking her out or confessing his love for her or something idk

I gotchu babes

warnings: none really, just fluff! not proofread.

notes: yall....i had like all of it written, then Tumblr decided it hates me and deleted all of it, so i had to rewrite it (it did it twice 😭) ...i actually cried.

°♡°

it all began in freshman year, when jj started flirting with every girl to distract himself.

every girl but you. every time he tried, he would stumble over his rehearsed pick-up lines and walk away a blushing mess. he didn't understand it.

he didn't understand you.

until junior year, when he finally realized he liked you. which didn't make a whole lot of sense because the only interaction he had with you (other than the failed attempts at wooing you) were small smiles across the classroom and friendly waves when he just so happened to go surfing at the exact same time as you.

he would be so entranced by the way you balanced on your board as you rode the waves that he would fall off of his. you would look over curiously, unaware of the previous staring. on the rare occasion that he was able to stay up, he would show off and hope that you were looking.

and you were. every time he caught a wave, you were watching him as he did some over the top trick, giggling to yourself as he messed up half the time.

now, you weren't stupid. you knew he liked you, but you wouldn't act on it. not unless he initiated it.

so you started going to the same parties him and hanging out with the pouges in hopes to get closer to jj.

as soon as he would see you at a party, he would find some random girl to hook up with, just so he could leave the party with a reasonable excuse.

as for the pouge hangouts. he would always manage to sit on the opposite side of the room, twinkie, bonfire, you name it.

you were completely fine with it, knowing he needed time. however, the other pouges were not. namely sarah and kie, the other two were dragged into it.

so one surf trip, while you, pope, and jj were in the water, the others were building a fire and ploting. they came up with a plan to get you and jj to sit next to each other and hopefully spark a conversation. then they'd get up and pray that jj would build enough courage to ask you out.

pope, done for the day, swam back to shore, leaving you and jj to ride the next waves.

well, leaving you to ride the waves and jj to watch as he failed to stay up for even one.

after a few more waves (and a couple wipe outs on jj's part), the two of you returned to shore as well.

"some sick waves today." kie said as you sat down next to pope, leaving the last open spot the one on your left.

"best i've seen in a while." pope, responded. the group fell into another comfortable silence as everyone waited for jj to return from the twinkie.

"beer, weed, and marshmallows. or what i like to call, a good time." jj announced his return as he tossed the bag of marshmallows at john b. once he passed out beers, he looked at he empty spot next to you. "uh, yeah! i'll just...i'll just sit here." he sat down next to you, careful not to let his knee or elbow graze you accidentally.

kie and sarah smirked at each other, while pope and john b looked at each other with weary expressions, not quite sure how this would pan out.

"tough waves today, jj? couldn't seem to stay up." kie teased.

he looked down, thankful for the fire infront of him for masking the blush on his cheeks with orange and yellow hues. "not my day, i guess."

"says the best surfer on the island." you complimented.

"that's rich coming from you." he responded, internally patting himself on the back for managing a sentence without stuttering or stumbling over any words.

"i've had off days before." you said, wanting to keep the conversation going.

"y-yeah, but your off days are on the same level as my good days." he looked at you briefly, catching your eyes, before looking back to the fire.

you smile at the compliment. "thank you."

as the conversation continued, he grew more confident in his words. he even started fishing for opportunities. suggesting surf trips, parties, even offering to walk you home that night.

he was so concentrated on not making a fool of himself that he didn't even notice the other pouges leaving.

over by the twinkie, sarah smirked at pope and john b. "told you it would work."

pope smiled over at jj while john b just shook his head. "i shouldn't have doubted you."

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

"if you could travel anywhere in the world, anywhere, where would you go?" jj asked. he was walking you home, your path only illuminated by a flickering street lamp.

"hmm, I've always wanted to go to greece." you replied.

he nodded, taking a mental note of that.

"what about you?"

"south africa." he said.

"why?"

"apparently, the waves there are top tier."

you hummed at that. "maybe i'll tag along....if that's okay with you?"

"yes!" he cleared his throat. "i-i mean..yeah, pfft, sure. why not?"

he smiled too. "great, um. do you-do you wanna go to lunch? or, or surfing? or both...we could do both, if you wanted-"

your house came into view and he took a deep breath, wanting to ask you before the night was over. "actually, i, um, i wanna ask you that. well, not that specifically, but, something close...kinda-"

"jj." you stopped his nervous rambling. "calm down."

he nodded. "right. right, yeah. um, i wanted to ask, if um, if your free tomorrow?"

you smiled. "i am. i am free."

"yes."

he paused. "what?"

"yes, jj. i would love to go out with you."

his face broke out into a smile, brighter than that coming from your porch light. "okay. okay, great, i'll-i'll come by at noon?"

you nodded, your own smile stuck on your face. "perfect." you looked up at your house. "thank you for walking me." then you did something he would remember forever.

you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

"n-no problem."

"i'm gonna go inside now." you said, giggling.

"yeah! yeah, that's- that's good. i'll uh, i'll pick you up at noon."

you nodded and walked up the stairs to your house, closing the door with one last glance at jj.

he stayed there for a few minutes, bathing in the feeling of bliss that came from spending time with you.

when he finally started to walk back to the chateau, he couldn't stop himself from doing a small victory dance.

you watched from the window of your room, smiling at the idiot who stole your heart.

°♡°

#pinkkpjobx #jj #jj maybank #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader #outer banks jj #jj maybank fluff #outer banks

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yandere-romanticaa · 8 months ago

Text

can you feel my heart?

❝ can you hear the silence? can you see the dark? can you fix the broken? can you feel, can you feel my heart? ❞

synopsis: Your love for Albedo burns brighter than any flame, but what happens when an imposter ruins everything? Furthermore, what else awaits once you start walking side by side with the imposter, only for him to end up falling for you instead?

yandere! imposter! albedo x gn! reader

a/n: this story was originally published back in earlyish 2022 and I haven't really touched it since. It was better received on my Quotev account, in which I also wrote a chapter two. However, I recently got the spark back to maybe continue this and if there's a demand, I'll post the 2nd chapter on here too and try to continue it.

The echoes of footsteps rang in your ears as you desperately tried to keep your vision steady and clear, but the endless amounts of ice and snow decided to make that task difficult for you. You had just recently stepped foot into Dragonspine, the urge to help out your friends too strong to stop. Amber had recently complained to you that a lot of strange things had been happening on Dragonspine and while she never dwelled on the details you could tell that something was terribly wrong. You were hardly a seasoned adventurer, if you could be even called one. Most of your commissions stemmed from collecting herbs, helping the locals, keeping guard of trade routes and simply cleaning up the great statue of Barbatos, which would take you countless hours because you did not posses a Vision. Even so you weren't too shabby with a sword and you had been on the icy mountain countless times much to everyone's surprise. Ever since the sudden Stromterror attack on the city, Albedo became a wonderful ally as he took you under his wing to show you all of the beauty and mysteries the world could offer. You sat through countless lectures, written and read endless theses and notes but you still lusted for more, just as much as Albedo did.

The only difference was, knowledge wasn't the only thing you craved in the long run.

It really wasn't that hard to fall for the alchemist, he was so oddly charming that you couldn't help but to be utterly smitten. He had his quirks that others thought were strange but you adored them, it were those little habits that made Albedo, well, Albedo. You wouldn't change anything about him. Your silent adoration came with a price, a price your poor heart just wasn't ready to pay - you had to suffer all by your lonesome. Albedo clearly did not see you in such a light, you were just a student and a friend to him. You doubted he even noticed your longing stares let alone the frantic beating of your heart.

Being in love was hard.

But not being loved back was even worse.

You silently hoped that by doing these tasks he would notice you, he would see you as his equal and hopefully more but that was asking for too much. You were willing to settle for anything, that's how desperate you were. Dragonspine was more than a training ground to you, it was a chance, a chance for you to seize and conquer the heart of the person you admired the most in this world because if you didn't, it felt as though the earth itself would open and it's jaws would swallow you whole! ...well, that is a bit dramatic but that really was how you felt. Even if you couldn't have him, even if he could not love you, just being by his side should be enough for you. Just seeing his face was more than enough to brighten your day.

And the day was yours to seize.

Straight ahead a bit higher on the path was Albedo, a small smile on his handsome face face as he outstretched his arm towards you, a sign that he was going to help you climb up further onto the mountain. You hid the blush that creeped up on you with the soft scarf that you wore, he really was a true gentleman. Times like this became incredibly precious to you as he would finally show you his softer side and you would end up falling in love all over again with him. He greeted you kindly and linked your hand with his own as he lead you down the Snow Covered Path towards the campsite, a comfortable silence between the two of you. Despite the wind and chilly ice, the sun was high up in the sky and its rays outstretched far into the horizon, the soft orange hues bathed the tall mountains in a ethereal glow that made you feel so warm on the inside. The company you had also made things even better than they already were.

"You look so happy right now, I could almost paint you."

Stopping dead in your tracks you turned to Albedo, his comment had caught you off guard. A bright smile was plastered all over his face, his eyes were glimmering with a mischief that you only saw on a few rare occasions. Still, he never said something like this to you, never.

Archons, was your heart going to explode?

Your stunned silence started to scare him a little so he tried to comfort you by putting his hand on your shoulder, not knowing what kind of impact this entire situation left on you. You swore on your life and everything you ever owned that if a boulder just fell from the sky and crushed you to bits you would die happy.

Making haste, you quickly ran in front of him, telling him to hurry up unless he wants to stay here out in the open until the sun sets, making this place even more dangerous than it already was. He laughed a little and caught up with you, making sure to throw some snow at you while he could. The two of you walked like that for a while, just enjoying the scenery and each others company before it was time to buckle up and get serious. It was so refreshing to see him like this, so happy and carefree. He was oddly chatty with you today though, which wasn't too unusual but it was indeed noticable. Albedo usually stated the facts and the truth, with the occasional joke if he was in the mood for it but he seemed to be quite talkative today, not that you complained. He asked you how your day was and what you did, while also sharing his own activities with you. He didn't have a lot of time to paint today unfortunately but he did finally manage to get some of his notes and experiments in order, allowing him for more free time in the upcoming days. Still chatting away with him you made sure to take the turn you usually took to get to his camp but before you could he stopped you by suddenly grabbing your wrist. Odd, you thought to yourself.

"Your camp is right here, isn't it? We always take the turn here, I know we do."

"It is but... I was having some issues so I had to switch locations, unfortunately. Here, come this way instead."

Gripping your wrist a little too tight than you would have liked, Albedo randomly just shoved you into the opposite direction, leaving you confused, downright dazed. You could have sworn that you saw some fire flickering near the entrance but you couldn't even comment on it with how hard and fast he was going right now. The happy atmosphere shifted into this very tense and awkward one, the sheer quietness was so thick you could almost cut it with a butter knife. Only the sound of your footsteps and of the bustling wind remained. You were tempted to speak up but you ended up opposing the idea as Albedo was in a very troubled mood. Was his camp raided, did someone steal something that wasn't supposed to be seen? Albedo did have quite a lot of strange but powerful things lying around the place, it's possible that someone stole some of his notes or tampered with his projects while he was outside of the hideout. Yes that must be it, you reasoned with yourself. Why else would he be acting like this?

"We're here."

Huh, well that was fast.

The new camp was located on the opposite side of the mountain and it was buried deep inside of a hard to find cave but he was smart enough to leave a few scratch marks on the wall in order for it to be identified. Not so large to be remembered by random travelers but not too small to be forgotten by him either. Quite smart of him, as usual.

Letting go of your hand, he offered to take your coat off your hands while you made yourself warmer by the fire. Letting out a sigh of relief you allow the soft flames to tickle your chilly fingers. The sudden smell of meat being cooked overtook your senses, causing you to let out a cheerful laugh. Turning your head to the side you noticed Albedo tending to his own flame, a nice, large black pot was placed over it, filled with meat and hearty veggies, perfect for a delicious stew. His eyes sparkled with joy as he grabbed a nearby spoon and carefully stirred the stew, the intense smell of it even made his stomach grumble. A comfortable silence overcame the two of you, much to your relief. That earlier interaction made you feel a little tense but it was nice seeing him in high spirits again, even a genius like him gets lonely from time to time, you pondered to yourself. Your train of thought was stopped suddenly once you noticed the unsatisfied scowl on Albedo's pretty face. Frustration was written all over it as he suddenly stood up from his chair and grabbed his jacket and bag.

"I need to go out and get a herb or two, I'll be back before you know it. There should be some nearby, they'll make the stew that much more delicious."

With his back turned to you he started walking towards the exit, but before he left he had one final thing to say to you.

"Feel free to stir that thing every once and a while, maybe even read a book if you get too bored. But don't touch anything on that table in the corner, okay?"

His tone was gentle and the request was simple so you nodded with a smile on your face, saluting him in the process. With a chuckle he turned his back to you once more as he existed the cave, his footsteps were getting farther and farther away from the cave.

Soon enough you were all by your lonesome, your only companions being the few scraps of paper that were littered on the ground, the boiling pot and the crackling fire that sat next to you. You grabbed the wooden spoon and examined it in your hand, while also keeping an eye on the stew. The hearty smell made your tummy grumble which caused you to let out a semi loud groan as you dramatically held your stomach with your free hand, your eyes still zoned in on the food. You sat there for a few minutes, just enjoying the peace and quiet. It didn't take long for your stomach to act out again, begging you to just eat something. Besides, who knew when Albedo was coming back anyway. He was definitely more familiar with the mountain and terrain than you were but that still didn't change the fact that you were starving.

Standing up from the chair you decided to look around for something to munch on before your companion turned up once more. There were a couple of old oak tables in the cave with thousands of books and even more notes scattered across their surfaces, a clear sign that Albedo had been quite busy for a while now. You quickly scanned through everything but nothing caught your eye, to top it off there was no food in sight. He probably used up the rest of his leftover supplies to cook this little feast that was bubbling away in the corner, but you digress.

Your fingers gently traced the edges of the tables as you occasionally stopped to go through the various documents, even tidying up little areas here and there. Albedo really could be sloppy sometimes which why you took this tiny liberty. As you stood there with several books in your hands you couldn't help but to look at the table in corner, the one table Albedo warned you not to go anywhere near. You first turned your head to the side, a little angry at yourself for even letting the curious thought wander into your mind but the more you wandered around, the more fidgety you became. For starters that table was suspiciously tidier than the rest but somehow had even more junk on it compared to the others. An old lamp was on it, the wick inside of it was clearly lit not too long ago. You didn't even notice that the sun had started to set and just how colder and darker your surroundings had become. The only heat source was the fire that cooked your dinner, but even that threatened to go out any moment now. You had some matches in your pocket, surely you could light up this one lantern... right? You cautiously walked towards the forbidden corner, the contents on it remaining a complete mystery to you due to the darkness that continued to expand all around you. You were barely able to make out the small lantern, it's lid already open a little bit. You reached out to your pocket and took out your matches and tried to light them up. The first one went out almost immediately. The second one stayed lit for a few seconds but before you could even get it close to the lantern, it also faded. Grumbling to yourself, you grabbed a third match and prayed to the Archons to just let you light this stupid thing already. With a steady motion, you carefully tried to grab the lantern with your other free hand but you didn't even realize just how shaky you were. The match suddenly slipped right past your fingers and the lit flame fell onto the papers that were beneath you. With a shriek you picked everything up hastily while also trying to repair the damages you stupidity caused. You cursed yourself for your clumsiness, who knew how Albedo was going to react? He even told you not to go near this dumb table, you really should have listened to him... He was definitely going to notice what you did, so, you might as well try fixing them up while you could... That would hopefully make him a little less angry with you.

Stepping closer to the entrance, you held the papers tightly to your chest as the strong wind almost knocked you over, but your determination was unwavering. You were going to fix this mess and that's final. With the few glimmers of light you finally looked at the contents of the papers, but instead of the usual notes that you were used to you were met with something much more... gruesome.

With a shriek, you threw the papers to the ground, but your eyes remained glued to them none the less. Icy chills coarsed through your veins as you looked at the images that were staring back at you, another scream threatening to break out.

On the ground was a drawing of a mutilated Albedo, with another Albedo that was standing above him with a bloody sword in his hand and a devilish sneer on his lips. The image itself was already disturbing, but it were the little details what caused you to freak out so much. The look of absolute fear in his eyes, the organs that were ripped apart from his stomach and were tossed so carelessly to the ground. His intestine decorated the bottom part of the page like grass as the Albedo above him held his weapon, his sneer forever engraved in your mind. You didn't even notice him holding a bloody heart in his other hand, the fist was high up in the air, like it was being shot up into the moon.

With shaky knees you crouched and took the papers in your hands and examined all of them. Some contained notes in a language which you could not decipher, the sharp penmanship made you woozy. Other pieces of parchment contained more drawings, each more disturbing than the last one. Human hearts, the general human anatomy, several scenes across Dragonspine were all drawn with a simple pencil but what stuck out the most were the portraits of Albedo, Sucrose and yourself. All of them were done with pristine detail, there was obvious care put into every little line. You sprinted towards the table, your anxiety skyrocketing beyond the roof, You moved everything around, hoping to find something that would explain the gory and eerie drawings but instead of answers you were met with even more questions - several pictures were hung up on the wall in front of you, all of them had Albedo as the center focus. It was him walking, eating, studying, drawing, sleeping, living...

It was beyond disturbing.

There were hundreds of little notes stuck and hidden in any corner of the table, all of which contained information about Albedo and his life. His height, his clothing, weight, everything was there. Your lungs felt like ice as you hyperventilated, your mind just couldn't comprehend what was going on. Why was he keeping so many methodical notes about himself, what was up with these sick drawings? Sick, there really was no other word to describe them. Repulsive, disgusting, sick, it was too much to handle.

To add more fuel to the fire, you suddenly felt a thin blade being pressed against your neck.

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yancore #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x you #albedo #albedo x reader #yandere albedo #yandere albedo x reader #genshin albedo

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