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lilyinmysoul · 2 months ago

Text

Incomprehensible

JacksonJoel x F!Reader

WC: 4k

Summary: Old man Joel is having trouble lasting a whole round on top.

Warnings: Smut, piv, sub joel, kinda angsty, comfort, Joel feels all sad and like he’s not good enough, Joel is 57 with back problems, handjob, vivid descriptions of bodily fluids, praise kink, domestic Joel, soft dom reader, reader calls Joel ‘old man’ once or twice, joel grips the headboard, (implied) age gap

Note: I’ve wanted to write subby Joel for a while, and I don’t think I went subby enough but I still love this fic. I took way too long writing it, so, no proofread. If there’s any mistakes, tell me. If you have any tips, tell me. Please reblog if you like, and if you want more fics like this, tell me, because I love my Jackson Joel and I have a kink for babying old men

As Joel trudged tiredly up the driveway, he watched the porch light flicker and dim, only to return to its original warm glow a moment later. The bulb was old and it would be difficult to find another; he didn’t want to think about it, he had a long enough list of things to do already.

As more people moved into Jackson, more babies were born, and more houses built, there was more work to be done around town and more responsibilities to be dealt with. Joel’s hair had greyed significantly in the past year, and still his patrols were getting longer. Even though his muscles felt extra sore after a long day of scavenging, he’d still have to get up the next morning and do it again.

Joel was fifty-seven two months ago, and as winter settled upon the town and rain puddles took a permanent residence on the sidewalks, he was becoming increasingly aware of it.

In recent weeks, light dustings of snow would fall from the sky, previews of the inches yet to come as the cold months approached. Joel’s heavy boots clomp against the cement path to your shared home, stepping in slush that crunches, half frozen, under his feet.

In his age, his fingers were especially sensitive to the cold, and it was likely that his brown leather gloves were the only thing protecting them from turning purple in the frosty air. Even so, he feels numb, and he rubs his covered hands against each other. Joel steps onto the porch, the only sound being his bulky shoes against the hollow wood of the deck. With a deep and breathy exhale and a glance up at the glowing window—you were awake—he fishes the house key from his pocket and slides it into the lock. It was a rewarding sound, one he looked forward to each day. It meant a night of rest, a warm plate of food, and the chance to see you.

He turns the cold brass knob and the door creaks open, emitting a squeal from its old and rusty hinges. The house was clean and tidy, but it had been built so long ago. No matter how clean the two of you kept it, the wood in the walls was weakening and the roof tiles continuing to wear under the rain. It reminded Joel of himself. He breathes in and closes the door, turning the lock as he takes in the smell, a fusion of both of your unique scents, traced with the aroma of old books and wood.

His boots are muddy, so he makes sure to rid them by the door. Under his feet, the floor creaks lightly and once you register the sound of movement downstairs, you practically prance down them.

You find him in the kitchen, still in his jacket and gloves as he leans on the counter with a glass of water. He takes a sip and places down the cup, its clink against the surface obscured by his deep, southern voice.

“Sweetheart,” he greets, the bags under his eyes deeper than usual, and his voice less steady. You could practically feel his exhaustion—now, and in weeks past. Regardless, your mouth turns up in a smile.

“Long day?” Your hand takes one of his, fingers working to peel the leather from his skin. “I made dinner. Chicken, the way you like.” You move on to his other hand before setting down the gloves and lacing your fingers with his freezing ones. You squeeze.

“Thank you, baby… s’just… freezin’ out there. Cold gives me a damn headache.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as your fingers find the brass zipper of his big brown jacket—the one he always wore and that you’d never tire of seeing him come home in. You pull down and free his strong arms as he stretches them above his head, sighing. You hear a pop from a joint of his, a hollow crack that rang out habitually each time Joel broke free from a spell of motionlessness. Soon, his jacket is forgotten and draped over a chair as you fetch a plate from the wooden cabinet.

The plates were china, their condition nearly mint and preserved for all these years. From the pot on the stove, you heap his plate with food. It was warm and steaming, and you found little as rewarding as watching him scarf down your cooking or drink down your tea after a long day of work. Perhaps it was your love language; a humble exchange for the drawers he’d fix and mend, or the shelves he’d put together when you needed more space for the trinkets he’d bring back for you, swiped from the shelf of an empty home he’d cleared.

You place the dish in front of him on the table, setting a fork next to it and a topped off glass of water. Across from him, you sit, having already aten. This felt optimal, allowing you to rest your chin in your hands and watch him, talk to him, hear about his day.

Joel nearly groans as he takes the first bite, his exhaustion even more evident. “Tastes like heaven, baby,” he mutters between bites.

“I made extra for you to bring on patrol tomorrow. Lunch, or something.”

He hums in acknowledgement, a quiet thanks as he enjoys his meal. A drink from his glass, then he breaks the silence, a hand palming at the back of his neck. “‘M so damn sore.”

You frown. It upsets you to see how much Joel is working, and saddens you further to witness how it affects him. More often than not, his back is sore, or his legs achy. As prideful as he was, it was clear that he needed a break. And although Joel warned you against bringing it up to Tommy, the idea was getting increasingly tempting. It’s becoming a priority of yours to get him off that damn schedule.

“I’m sorry,” you soothe and stand up, topping off his glass once again, before your hands come to rest on his shoulders as you stand behind his chair. Your fingers squeeze at the muscles there, taut and stressed as he inhales deeply and takes another bite. “I can massage it if you want.” A beat, before you speak again. “Maybe you should ask Tommy if someone else can pick up your shift.”

Joel says your name in a stern, yet exasperated tone that says, ‘drop it’. You wonder what exactly it is that stops him from asking for help.

“Okay,” you agree, forcing the topic out of your mind and out of your mouth, hands still working at his tense and knotted muscle. “I just worry about you. I just don’t want to see you hurting, I want you to feel good.”

“I’m just… gettin’ old, is all. Ain’t got nothin’ to do with work, I’m… I’m okay.” Joel grunts as your hands work, and you don’t believe him one bit—not even a little. Either way, you don’t argue. Instead, you lean down and kiss the top of his head, your lips pressing against his soft, graying hair.

“Alright,” you agree. He hums as he feels your lips.

“Plus,” he adds. “I can still keep up with you, I reckon.”

“Sure can, old man,” you squeeze one of his arms, a thick bicep only barely softened by age. You very strongly appreciated his strength—muscles formed through vigorous labor; initially, fixing roofs in the sun, and eventually, fighting infected with his bare hands. Granted, he is more comfortable now. His life is stable in Jackson, allowing his tummy to soften up a bit because he has food to eat and a bed to lounge in. Even so, he could still pick you up and carry you out in the snow, and when he would grunt a little deeper now with the effort, you reveled in the sound.

He takes a bite. “So long as you don’t get sick’a me.”

“Never.”

A deep chuckle from Joel, and his plate is clean. He looks up at you, and you take the opportunity to lean down and press a kiss to his cheek, hands finding the sides of his face as your lips move to envelop his. Your mouth moves tenderly over his as he emits a soft hum.

You pull your lips away softly, a string of saliva connecting your mouths before it breaks and your eyes rake over his face as it still rests in your hands.

“I feel better already,” he states.

“I’m sure,” you smile, gaze flicking down to the bulge in his pants, a tent beginning to form.

“Feels nice,” he says, referring to nothing in particular. It was all so pleasant—the way you made him dinner and fed him with such care, how you worked out the stiffness in his muscles and kissed away his trepidation—he never had enough of it. He was never entirely sure why you chose him—grumpy and hardened, old and weary—but you never let him spend too much time mulling it over. You loved him so entirely that it was nearly impossible to doubt, every past loss and failing managing to fade to nothing when he would meet your eyes.

Your hands drop from his face and you pick up his plate and empty glass, your feet carrying you the short distance to the kitchen sink. Over your shoulder, you see him watching you, on his eyes a look of admiration combined with a hint of lust. Joel’s absolute love for your nurturing nature was something that he would rarely voice, and that nobody else would ever guess. You wipe the plate clean and set it in the sink, rinsing your hands and wiping them dry.

By now, Joel has stood, meeting you again in the dim light of the dining room. You smile lazily at him, relieved that the day’s responsibilities were done and dealt with. To you, having Joel around in the evening after a long day is the best gift, and you find his occasional night patrols to be cruel and unusual punishments. When your arms wrap affectionately around his middle, his hand rests on the back of your head, fingers splaying over and entwining with your hair. He presses a kiss to your temple.

“You’re s’beautiful…” he murmurs into your skin, his words so honest and caring. He hums softly before tilting your head up and taking a kiss. Joel felt that it was the most reassuring thing and so wholly intimate. Your lips, he felt, belonged on his, slotting onto one another like pieces of a jigsaw. Your hand rubs up his back as one of his cups the back of your neck, guiding your head gently. He pulls your body lightly against his, the movement firm but not aggressive. He’s sleepy and sapped, but that doesn’t stop his hands from coasting greedily over your body. Your warm skin always soothes him—evidently, he is harder now, and you feel the pressure wedged against your lower stomach.

Your lips drift apart, still tangled in the other’s arms. It’s clear where Joel wants this to go, and you second the thought.

“You’re gorgeous…” he mutters another compliment, pushing aside a strand of hair from your face. “Just wanna have you forever. I could. Again and again…”

It isn’t clear if Joel entirely knows what he’s saying, but his musings sound promising either way. “You sure you have the stamina for that, old man?” You tease him into his shoulder, your close embrace both tempting and comforting.

“Yes, ma’am,” he states, paying no mind to his own lassitude and achy muscles. How could they even cross his mind? He had you in his arms, your body at his fingertips.

In a mediocre attempt at assuming Joel’s southern drawl, you ask, “Are you fixin’ to prove it to me?”

He chuckles, his voice low and thick. “If that’s what you want,” he feigns nonchalance—albeit, poorly. “I don’t sound like that.”

“Mhm…” By now, your mind is empty, save for one thing. Memories of Joel’s busy schedule have departed from your head, along with all of your external worries, and he is leading you upstairs.

When your back hits the mattress in the palely lit bedroom, you smile softly up at Joel, who is unhooking his belt, pulling it free from the loops. His gaze is roaming over you hungrily, and you can tell that his day has been particularly long by the wanting look in his eye.

You squirm out of your shorts and pull your top over your head as you lay against the cold covers. Dropping the discarded clothes on the floor by the bed, you catch Joel’s eyes as he pushes down his worn and worked jeans, faded dirt staining the heels. His boxers are dark and tented, his necessity for you abundantly clear. He’d like to crawl into your arms, but first, he has to give you what you want and assuage his own frustration. He lifts his shirt over his head, dropping it absentmindedly on the floor.

The bed dips slightly when the weight of Joel’s knees comes to rest on it. You peer up at him as he looks down at you, a dazed and loving smile on his face as his hands are set on your knees, pulling them apart and making room for his broad body between them.

Joel’s lips kiss along your jaw, nipping lightly at your neck. He props his body up with one elbow, the other hand coursing over your skin, trailing over the lace of your bra and down to the fabric of your soft panties. He mindlessly toys with the band, his mind focused on your neck, but quickly shifts his attention to the rest of your body.

Joel is particularly desperate tonight, his hands both restless and spent as they hook under and pull at your underwear. They come off fully, tossed aside on the bed. The air in the room is chilly, but Joel’s form radiates warmth, encasing you with it. You smile softly as his briefs are finally let down and a strong, veined hand wraps around his length. Joel pumps it a few times before teasing his tip along your entrance, and you inhale through your teeth.

You chuckle breathily at the focused look on his face as he nudges himself into you. You brace yourself for the stretch as your eyes watch where his cock hitches inside, before your gaze coasts up to the trail of hair that leads to his belly button, then at his strong chest, and ultimately his face. He slides in before you can look back down, and your eyes narrow as your mouth falls open slightly.

The look on your face was priceless—one Joel had seen many times—but priceless, nonetheless. His first few strokes are slow and relishing, but his impatience forces him to speed up. He has spent the day thinking about you, and will continue to do so long after he drifts to sleep; so, his energy has nowhere to go but into his movements, his hips tapping yours as the room fills with the soft click, click, click of your bodies touching, fluids exchanging.

Your husband’s mouth no longer has the power to contain his grunts of pleasure, soft noises escaping his throat with each movement. Your heavy breaths align with his like a melody, sounding synchronously into the dim bedroom, limbs tangled in blankets and damp skin.

Above you, Joel’s brow is slightly dampened with sweat, his body trying not to succumb to his enervation. Of course you couldn’t hear it, but you could only guess that his heart was beating a bit quicker than it usually did. His hands grip at your hips a little harder as his thrusts hasten, your velvety skin on his fingers consoling him.

Joel might be getting up there, but he was still big. He always would be, and a sound no short of a whine leaves your mouth as your hand rests over his on your hip—a comforting gesture to both him and yourself. The insides of your thighs are slippery, and they slicken Joel’s in turn when your bodies touch.

“Baby…” Joel grumbles, his voice low and nearly inaudible.

Your response is a feeble hum, an affectionate reassurance. “Hm…”

“I’m… shit, I…” his voice trails off. One hand of his is still tightly holding the bone of your hip, guiding and grinding it against his own as his cock disappears into you. His other wipes away the perspiration on his forehead before landing to tightly grip the wooden headboard, the structure bracing Joel’s weight as he drives into you.

“So good, Joel…” you mutter, your eyes drifting shut as he moves inside of you, tip kissing your cervix again and again. Repeatedly, your insides stretch and your pleasure mounts, your eyelids still closed in sheer bliss, stomach tingling from your approaching orgasm, along with your proximity to the man you love.

You swear you hear the wood crack with how hard he holds the head of the bed. His movements become more tense, deliberate. His breath huffs deeply, and at first you suspect that he might be getting close. He usually takes longer than this, but you cannot blame him—his day’s been hard, and he’s needed you. But soon enough, almost as abruptly as he had started, his movements cease. He doesn’t slow, or pull out to finish on your stomach—he stops. Your hips buck imperceptibly at the cessation.

“Sweetheart…” Joel mumbles defeatedly, his hips drawing out a few more slow and shallow strokes before coming to a complete halt. “I can’t. M’ too tired.”

You blink at his admission. You fish deep in your brain for something to say, a caring response, but before you do, he does all he can to hide his reddening face in the crook of your neck.

For a moment, he stays there. His head rests on your shoulder in silence before he breaks it. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry baby.” He mumbles something about a hard day and getting old. You can’t help but card your fingers through his hair, dark and streaked with silver like a tree turning red in autumn. Except, when his leaves fell, they would not be growing back. They would not rejuvenate themselves come spring, ready to dance again in the summer breeze. But you don’t think that winter needs to be hopeless or sad. There isn’t a bone of Joel’s that you don’t love, or a wrinkle you won’t worship. Every doubt—if there ever were any, at all—is waved away, lost to what you love the most about him; and so you giggle into his hair.

“Don’t laugh at me…” he murmurs, embarrassment still permeating his voice.

“I’m not laughing at you, baby. It’s okay,” your head pats lightly on the back of his head. “It’s okay. You’re working like hell.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again. He’s a proud man, and letting you down feels like a firm blow to the chest.

“Don’t say sorry,” you smile sweetly as you tilt his head up towards yours. After laying a gentle kiss to his forehead, you add, “It’s alright, Handsome.”

He scoffs under his breath, but can’t stop a sheepish smile from spreading across his lips. He buries his head back into the crook of your neck. As soon as he does, you tilt his face back up again and speak.

“What, you don’t agree?”

He avoids your eyes, looking up off to the side. “I just… y’sure? You think I’m handsome? Y’don’t think… I ain’t enough for you?”

The question catches you off guard and you continue to gaze down at him, your thumb gliding over the side of his face. “Are you being serious?”

No answer on his end, just the same apprehensive look on his face as he refuses to meet your eye.

“Of course I do, Joel. You’re so handsome. Don’t be ridiculous.” You say before adding, “And I think you’re the best guy I could ever ask for, and it doesn’t matter if you’re a little tired sometimes.” You smile.

Joel only grunts when you shift your body until his back is on the pillows. You’re now sitting on his hips, his cock still buried in you—throbbing but forgotten. His hair is disheveled and he looks rather dazed, gazing up at you with a look of admiration and necessity.

Your hand finds its way to cup the side of his face, a position it often assumes; the spot feels like its home. You feel the prickle of his beard on your skin, and you lean down to press a kiss to his lips, wet and a bit chapped from the cold outside. Slowly, you begin to rock your hips, a gentle and slow movement that Joel reacts to, one of his hands coming to grip onto your hip and the other draping over his eyes out of both insecurity and overwhelment.

A heavy breath leaves his mouth as you pull his hand away from his face. He still isn’t quite able to look you in the eye, so you tilt his face toward you once again, your hips rolling in treacherous circles.

A hum leaves your mouth, the look on Joel’s face fueling the fire between your legs. As you move, you let your mouth drop open slightly, wanting to make your pleasure clear to him.

“Feels so good, Joel…” you murmur. “Keep looking at me,” you instruct. You weren’t sure exactly how to get his confidence back up or make him feel better. His head seemed to be in another place, one of penitence and embarrassment. “Y’never told me how nice it is to be on top. Might have to try it more often.” You feel him twitch inside of you. Your fingers continue to trace along his jaw.

Joel groans as your hips grind into his a bit faster, the view of you peering down at him heating up his stomach. “It’s… okay? You’re not disappointed?” He asks, more so to reassure himself.

You chuckle lightly under your breath, his still moving as you choke out, “Of course not…” You hear something close to a whimper leave Joel’s mouth, and you take one of his hands and hold it to your center, between your legs as his thumb begins rubbing your clit. “There you go…”

He is happy to help. Any way you can make him feel appreciated will make him groan under you.

“Oh, wow, Joel…” you continue, your noises growing more prolonged. By now, you could almost cum from his sounds alone, desperate and almost pitiful. His fuck-up hit him hard, and has left him yearning to either make it up to you or push it from his head. His thumb circles you in just the way you like, sending jolts through your body that further energize you, hips still rocking with care and want. A hand laced up into his hair, you murmur, “I’m gonna cum… you’re making me cum, Joel… shit.”

“I’m… me too,” you hear him choke out. He looks entirely out of it, his gaze shifting from your face down to where your flesh surrounds him. You smile, taking a few more rolls of your hips before slowing, pulling out of you his thick length, tip angry, red, and swollen from being still without release. You let your hand run up and down his cock, further smearing the liquids that coat it as you rub him, his mouth falling open slightly.

“Yeah… you’re so pretty, Joel. You’ll always be pretty. Handsome… sweet…” you list, mumbling off whatever kind words you could think off as you stroke his cock, rubbing it occasionally against your clit.

He hisses, pleasure mounting at your tenderness of your touch and the sweetness of your words. Each time your hand travels up his length, he gets closer, and he’s unable to stop himself from spilling over your hand. His thick ropes of cum leak from his weeping slit, a low grunt sounding from somewhere deep in his throat.

A smile spreads across your face, the dribble of white down your hand doing something to you—it always does. “There you go, baby,” you coddle, a kiss to his cheek. “As simple as that.”

Thanks for reading!! feel free to send me an ask

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chanelrolls · 16 days ago

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blizzard? i hardly know her

pairing. afab!fem reader x CALEB (modern college au)

tags. fluff, nsfw, smut, mature content, cheesy romance, forced proximity, slowburn, unestablished relationship, plot-based, tension, so much tension, accidental sleepover, zayne & caleb are sibs with a mum, eventual smut, oral, t!tplay, f!ngering, penetration, missionary, slight manhandling, 18+

synopsis. what happens when you get stuck inside your crush's house?

wc. 6.9k (lmao)

crunch. crunch. crunch.

the frosty snow lies thick beneath your boots, making a satisfying crunch with every heavy step you take. your thick fur boots keep you warm as you wander up the quiet street, heading toward the center of town. each house you pass is decked out in bright, cheerful christmas lights, shimmering merrily. it’s still early, just 2 o’clock, but it feels like the entire town is already wrapped in the christmas spirit.

well, it is the 22nd of december. with only three days left until the long-awaited 25th, it’s no surprise that festive excitement lingers in the air.

ah, winter. the season that always felt like magic. your favorite time of the year. but this time, something was different. this time, you were actually doing something bold.

you held the small, carefully wrapped package tighter between your gloves, heart pounding as you took in the cold air. you knew exactly where you were headed and who it was for.

caleb.

he was the kind of guy every girl dreamed about; smart, charismatic, manly, athletic, and ridiculously good-looking. a bit older than you. you'd been lowkey obsessed with him for half a year. yes, you kept track.

you wanted to talk to him so many times, but every chance slipped past. you didn’t have the guts. you had no idea how to even start a convo with a guy you liked. were you supposed to act casual? or make it obvious? how do people even do this?

the funny part? caleb and you had never even spoken. not once. you were practically strangers. but he was popular, the kind of guy people naturally gravitated toward. everyone liked him. which meant if you didn’t make a move soon, someone else definitely would.

so yeah, you needed to act. fast.

and somehow, through sheer force of will and probably a touch of delusion, you came up with a plan: give him a christmas gift. nothing huge. just something small... and anonymous. no pressure, just a gesture.

luckily, you knew something most people didn’t. caleb’s family owned that cozy little bakery down the street. they lived right above it, in the apartment on the second floor. which made things easy since there was a letterbox right next to the bakery door. accessible and just perfect. the plan was really simple: drop off the gift, then vanish. just you, taking a tiny step closer to the boy you couldn’t stop thinking about.

your stomach started doing that weird twisty thing again the closer you got to caleb’s bakery. the street was quiet, but the snow was beginning to fall faster now, tiny flurries brushing your cheeks, clinging to your coat. you picked up the pace. if you dropped the gift off fast enough, you could make it home before the snow really picked up.

except... you didn’t. because just as you stopped in front of the bakery, frozen and staring at the familiar brick facade, you heard a faint voice that sounded like it was calling for somebody.

your heart practically jumped out of your chest. you spun around, eyes wide. there was no one around. but the snow had gotten worse. way worse. you could barely see down the road now. great. just great.

you were such an idiot. there had been blizzard warnings all week. and you, genius that you were, had thought today of all days was the perfect time to sneak out and play santa.

this was bad. really bad.

you whimpered when something sharp, maybe a twig or a chunk of ice, scratched across your cheek. the cold bit harder now, winds screaming past your ears. panic rose like a wave. you spun around, searching, desperate, but there was nothing. just white. endless, suffocating white.

and then, arms. strong ones, wrapping around you before you could even scream. you kicked once, tried to twist away, heart hammering like a drum, but your body was too numb to fight back.

you were being dragged, somewhere. and then, just as suddenly, it stopped.

a bell chimed overhead. warmth hit your face. your nose filled with the smell of cinnamon, sugar, and something buttery. the sound of the wind dulled behind you.

a bakery...

you blinked the snow out of your eyes, breath uneven, still bracing to fight whoever had grabbed you. and then, "are you alright?" you instantly looked up at the familiar voice. standing there, a towel in hand, snow in his dark hair and a concerned frown on his face—was zayne. caleb’s older brother.

so there you were.

the older brother of your crush was standing right in front of you, waiting for an answer. and oh, you were inside his family’s bakery. and above this very shop? their house. which meant... caleb was probably somewhere upstairs right now. maybe even within earshot. oh, and let’s not forget the tiny detail that a literal snow blizzard was raging outside. no one in their right mind would be out in that. except you, naturally.

and in your hand? a poorly hidden, slightly crumpled gift you were now awkwardly trying to shield behind your back like some suspicious cartoon character. how dandy could things possibly get?

you nodded at zayne, way too eagerly. like, suspiciously eagerly. like those nodding dogs that people placed in the dashboards of their car.

zayne narrowed his eyes at you doubtfully,

“[name], right?” he asked, arms placed at his sides loosely. you nodded again. silent. awkward. praying the gift behind your back would suddenly vanish into thin air.

it wasn’t surprising that he knew your name. in a town like this, everyone knew everyone. gossip traveled faster than snowstorms.

“take a seat,” he said, gesturing to a chair near the counter. “i’ll go get my mum. she’ll know what to do.” you hesitated, but your legs were too cold and tired to argue. the gift stayed clenched in your hands behind your coat as you shuffled toward the seat, cheeks burning. zayne turned and walked off, calling out, “mum!” as he disappeared into the back.

you were alone now. in his bakery. with his gift. and his family upstairs. great. just great.

moments later, footsteps echoed from the stairs behind the counter. then came a voice, warm, lively, and full of disbelief. “zayne, who in their right mind would even be outside right now? the news said—” she stopped mid-rant when your eyes met hers.

“oh, my stars!” mrs. xia gasped, practically flying toward you with a flurry of movement and a hand pressed to her chest. “darling, what happened? are you hurt? are you frozen? do you even have gloves? look at your face, it’s all red—”

“mum,” zayne cut in, clearly used to the routine as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “you’re overwhelming her.”

“nonsense,” she said, swatting a hand at him, still hovering over you, staring at you with the eyes caleb had inherited from, while zayne probably got his from their father. “go make her some hot chocolate. extra marshmallows.” zayne sighed at the sudden obligation, but nonetheless vanished back into the kitchen with reluctant acceptance.

you were officially alone, with the mother of your crush. and she was observing you like you were a lost duckling. “well then,” she began, folding her arms and leaning just a little too close. “how are you feeling?”

"i... i'm okay. just a little cold..."

"well, i'll bet you are! whatever were you doing wandering outside?"

your grip tightened around the gift behind you. you smiled, then lied. “i… i just wanted some air.”

her eyes narrowed, suspicious but amused. “in the middle of a snowstorm?”

you forced a chuckle, trying to look casual. “y-yes. it was… a really strong urge.”

"ah, now look at you," she laughed, before noticing your uncomfortable expression. "oh my dear, i'm so sorry, i'm such a scatterbrain! here, give me your coat," mrs. xia's outstretched hand made you suddenly aware of your shivering frame. with trembling hands, you undid the buttons of your coat, shrugging out of the soppy mess. instantly, you felt the warmth of the bakery's cozy atmosphere seeping through the fabric of your long-sleeved top. you're still holding caleb's gift protectively.

mrs. xia took your coat, draping it over a radiator. "there, there, now once you've got some hot chocolate in you, you'll be warm and better in no time!" she beams at you, clasping her hands together. "that's if my incompetent son manages to make it for you."

the thudding footsteps coming down the stairs rang out, and then revealed a frowning zayne with a cup of steaming hot chocolate between his fingers. his obvious scoffing received a light chortle from mrs. xia, watching as zayne turn towards you. you gently take the beverage from him, pinkies faintly brushing against one another. you try to hold yourself back from taking a long sniff of the mouthwateringly sweet aroma across your watchful saviours, so you slowly take a sip. "it's lovely," you look up at them. "thank you..."

zayne crosses his arms while sneaking a glance at his mother in response, the corner of his lips subtly lifted. all mrs. xia could do was to raise her hands up in defeat.

after getting scolded by your mother on the phone call, you passed the phone to mrs. xia when she gestured for it, and the shift in atmosphere was immediate. the motherly concern turned into light banter, like two women slipping into a shared rhythm. the volume of their voices carried, but the meaning was distant now. their laughter settled into the corners of the room.

you sat curled on the edge of the chair, a blanket draped over your shoulders like a lifeline. the mug of hot chocolate sat on the table in front of you, its surface now still, save for a lone marshmallow melting into the brown. your hands were no longer trembling, but your mind hadn’t caught up.

the gift was tucked underneath the blanket now, safe but painfully present. its shape still pressed against your side. you hadn’t decided what you were going to do with it yet. the original plan had evaporated with the first gust of wind that knocked you off your—

footsteps.

zayne approached you quietly, though there was a kind of presence to him that made silence feel heavier. you looked up just as he stopped beside your chair. his hands were shoved into the pockets of his dark sweater, and the light caught in the glint of his cuff. his eyes flicked down to the mug, then returned to you. no smile. just that same unreadable calm.

but then he said, with a voice that was quieter than the rest of him. “be honest. did it taste good?”

you blinked, taken off guard. his tone wasn’t sarcastic. it wasn’t cold, either. it was... curious. like your opinion actually mattered. you nodded after a moment, the corners of your mouth lifting, unsure. “yeah. it did. just sweet enough.”

there was the smallest shift in his posture.

“good,” he looked away, “mum always makes it too sugary. i adjusted the recipe a bit.”

"don't you mean caleb adjusted it?" a voice sounded from the entrance of the backroom, and your head snapped to the source abruptly, zayne mirroring your actions, although less frantic.

don't blush. act cool. nonchalant. not a big deal.

oh, who are you kidding? of course, this is a big deal!

because standing right there, leaning against the doorframe so effortlessly, and looking so extremely attractive, was caleb. caleb xia. the whole reason why you were in this mess in the first place.

tall and loose-limbed, with the kind of posture that made everything about him look unbothered. his brown hair was tousled in that way that looked intentional but probably wasn’t. soft strands fell across his forehead, catching the light like autumn leaves. but it was his eyes that held you the longest. a pale lilac that didn’t quite belong to this world. they were beautiful.

his gaze swept over the room slowly before settling on you, and though he wasn’t smiling, there was something playful in the tilt of his mouth, the subtle raise of one brow.

it took you a few seconds to process what he had said.

hang on a minute...

"i... thought zayne made it for me?" you dragged your words, your voice coming out louder than you intended, more so to yourself than to anyone in particular. now all of your nerves that were previously panicking was replaced by confusion.

caleb gives zayne a dry look, before turning to face you fully.

oh, that gorgeous, sexy, amazing, and handsome face!

"there are two things you should know about my brother," caleb told you, the sound of your name in his slow, steady voice completely warming your insides.

oh my GOD. he's talking to me. he's talking to ME and looking at ME.

his footsteps dragged on across the floorboards while he stepped closer. "one: zayne plus the kitchen equals a disaster, and two: he may appear like a knight in shining silk but he's a total liar."

zayne only stared at him with a cold glare, and caleb smiled back cheekily at him. his gorgeous amethyst eyes holding a spark of mischief, "so who's mum on the phone to?"

"my mum," you replied, (even though it looked like it was zayne he was asking) to which caleb nodded in quiet understanding. a brief silence fell upon you, so you took another sip from the hot chocolate, the knowledge that your crush being the one who actually made it, now heartwarmingly sitting in your head.

caleb noticed.

"i make a pretty good hot chocolate, huh?" caleb chuckled handsomely, striding through the room and hopping on one of the chairs across the shop counter.

"better than pretty good, actually..."

"better than pretty good actually." you hear zayne mutter beneath his breath as he walked past you, now making a beeline for the stairs at the back. whether he was mocking or teasing you, you didn't know. you couldn't make a judgement for now with insufficient knowledge of how zayne is. but his eyes earlier held a teasing spark, you try to convince yourself.

you steal a glance from caleb, who was currently texting in his phone.

"honey, are you alright?" the concerned voice of mrs. xia broke through your thoughts, and you look up at her worried eyes.

"i, uh, am okay. sorry for spacing out..."

she gives you a warm, motherly smile. "oh, don't worry bub, you must still be in a little shock. how about we all go upstairs, where it's more warmer, hm?"

you nodded in reply, returning her smile.

when you reached upstairs, you watched how caleb flopped himself down the recliner to prop the seat up, before reaching into the pocket of his bottoms and proceeding to text again, seemingly at lightning speed. mrs. xia made her way over to the sofa, and so you decided to settle yourself down across from her.

"well then," the mother spoke up, her eyes holding yours. "i spoke to your mum, and... we've agreed that you should stay here until the blizzard passes." you visibly stiffened, eyes automatically glued on the floor as a sudden rush of heat coursed through you despite the weather. "the roads are in no state to be driven on, and the way how things are looking, you'll probably be safe and sound in your bed by tomorrow night."

what a relief. you released the breath you didn't realize you've been holding in. if you could just keep your way out of zayne and caleb, then everything should work out just fine. no awkward conversations, nothing alike, and no one will find out about the wrapped gift you're sitting on right now.

"thank you, mrs. xia. you're very kind, i really appreciate it,"

"oh please, it's absolutely no trouble at all!" mrs. xia waved it off nonchalantly, "your parents are an old colleague of mine, and you're an absolute angel yourself, my dear. and ever so pretty, might i say."

you blushed, cheeks going warm, "thank you, mrs. xia, you really are too kind."

"now what's the time, i wonder?" she mused brightly, sauntering towards the kitchen side of the room.

"three o'clock." caleb suddenly voiced out from his position on the recliner, his eyes flicking to you, but quickly averting his gaze back to his phone when he caught your eye.

mrs. xia wiped her hands on her trousers, before leaning against the breakfast bar. "right, well dinner should be ready in about an hour, but first i think we should discuss [name]'s sleeping arrangements," she announced, her voice sounding like she was talking to herself more than anything.

"she can sleep in my room," caleb blurted suddenly, looking slightly bashful despite his easygoing nature. "i can sleep in'ere, on the sofa, i don't mind."

oh my gosh.

caleb just offered me his room! which means... i'll get to sleep in his room, i'll get to see his room, i'll be lying down on his bed in his room.

fate just keeps on surprising you today, huh?

caleb's room was near exactly what you had imagined.

dark green walls complimented a neutral soft carpet, with plain wooden furniture balancing out everything so nicely. there were a few posters on the wall, of various basketball players and teams, along with the odd photograph or two of caleb with his family and friends. there were a few golden medals, their ribbons strung around some old nails lined up in a row against the wall.

you've always known, that caleb is a natural-born athlete.

glancing down at the present that rested snugly in your palm, you sighed, placing it carefully onto the desk beside you. so much drama, all over one tiny little gift.

suddenly, a gentle knock on the door sounded, startling you. your head snapped towards the door, but it remained silent and still for like 10 seconds. narrowing your eyes at it, you turn your gaze away.

were you starting to hear things?

"hey, new tenant?" the muffled voice of caleb sounded through the door, and you instinctively widened your eyes. also, what kind of nickname was that? "can i come in, please?"

"um, yep!" you shouted back in a squeaky, high-pitched voice. quickly, you lunged for the present which was sitting on caleb's desk, concealing it in the first place you could find—which was behind the desk. it was a bit of a tight squeeze lodging it there, but miraculously, you managed to squeeze it in before the door creaked open with a groan.

caleb's head popped around the door, his face visibly relaxing once he caught sight of your figure. then, he steps in, a little hesitant, holding something in his hand. he held up the item, and it appears to be some sort of clothing. "mum told me to give you this, since you don't have pajamas."

"oh, thank you..." you replied, trying a soft smile. slowly, you accept the clothing from his hands, and you could feel the way your fingers brushed for a split-second. it made you warm.

"it's no problem. anything for a pretty girl like you." you stood in shock for a few seconds, staring wide-eyed at the boy standing right infront of you. it took a few more moments before caleb realized the nature of his words, and when he did, his ears turn red. clearing his throat, he brings up something else, "cough, need help setting up the bed?"

he was already at the edge of the bed, sleeves rolled past his forearms, the faint scent of vanilla and warm bread still clinging to him like a ghost.

you nodded before your brain could catch up. the bed creaked softly as the two of you worked in silence, tucking in corners, fluffing the pillowcases. and for a while, it felt almost so oddly domestic.

but then, as you smoothed your palm over the top sheet, his hand stilled. his eyes were on you. "uh... hold still for a sec," he murmured, stepping toward you.

you blinked, unsure. "yes?"

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he closed the distance in slow, deliberate strides. and then, without warning, his fingers reached up, calloused and careful, his thumb brushing lightly along your cheek.

"spaghetti," he muttered, almost amused. "bolognese. right here." a quiet laugh left him, soft and stunned, like he hadn’t expected it either.

instantly, you turned beet red. not just from the proximity, not just from the way caleb was so close that you could start counting his lashes from this distance, but because you've revealed a rather unpleasant side of yourself to him. the spaghetti bolognese his mother had cooked for dinner earlier satisfied your taste buds so well that you hadn't noticed it smearing on your cheek.

his thumb hovered, not quite done. then, his gaze dropped. first to your eyes. then lower... to your lips.

and for a second, just a breath, he didn't move.

but then, he blinked, stepping back. the warmth snapped away with him. "there," caleb said, though his ears were tinged pink again. "you’re good."

he turned back to the bed, adjusting the edge of the blanket like it suddenly needed fixing. like he hadn’t just looked at you like that.

you stayed still after he stepped back, eyes trained on the bed like it might offer some kind of guidance. your cheek still tingled a little where his thumb had brushed, and you could feel the heat lingering there.

he cleared his throat. "sorry, by the way. i didn’t mean to, like, get in your space.”

you shook your head quickly, looking up at him. “no, it’s okay. i didn’t notice it was there.”

he let out a short breath. “guess that’s what happens when you really go in on pasta, huh.”

you laughed under your breath, a little embarrassed. “it was good, okay? i wasn’t thinking about my face.”

“really?” he says in a sing-song voice, "next time y'should try my cooking."

you both stood there for a second, the quiet kind of hovering. caleb shifted his weight onto one foot, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck.

“well,” he said, glancing at the bed, “this should be fine for you, i think. the heater’s already on so you won’t freeze.”

“looks good,” you said. “thank you.”

his eyes flicked toward the pajamas still folded in your arms. “those might be a little big, just saying.” ugh, when will he leave so i can release this jittery feeling i've been holding back ever since he came in here? i already want to roll around the bed and squeal!

“i’ll survive.” you manage.

he nodded. his hand hovered near the doorknob, but he didn’t open it just yet. “alright. i’ll, uh, leave you alone now. let you get settled.”

“mhm, okay.”

“cool. night.”

“night.”

and then he was gone. the door clicked shut, the sound quiet against the hush of the snowstorm outside. you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, then looked down at the pajamas in your hands.

and then you flopped. face-first onto the bed. a full-body, limbs-splayed-out, dramatic flop. a squeal escaped before you could stop it, muffled by the sheets.

"what just happened," you whispered into the blanket, voice high and panicked in the most ridiculous way. "what just happened."

you kicked your feet a little. rolled onto your back. then onto your side. then back again.

you had talked to caleb. you had brushed hands. he wiped food off your face. he looked at you. and he called you pretty. like, casually! like it was nothing. like your heart wasn’t going to launch itself out of your chest.

you groaned, throwing a pillow over your face. this was not how you expected your evening to go when you walked across their bakery holding the gift.

and now you were in his room, with a blizzard locking you in for the night. "i’m gonna die," you muttered to the ceiling.

but you were smiling. so much it kind of hurt.

3 hours.

you laid there, flat on your back, eyes dry from staring too long at the same stupid spot on the ceiling. the room had long gone quiet, no more creaking footsteps outside, no muffled laughter from mrs. xia and her husband. even your phone screen was starting to burn your retinas, the endless doomscrolling doing absolutely nothing to help.

you sighed and flipped to your side again for what had to be the hundredth time.

the blanket was warm. the pillows were soft. the bed even smelled like vanilla and something familiar and safe. but none of it mattered. because one very important thing was missing.

your plushie.

your stupid, irreplaceable, well-loved plushie that you had dragged around since you were ten. the one with the slightly lopsided button eye and the torn little ear you never quite got around to sewing back on. the one thing that could ever get your body to relax enough to actually sleep.

you groaned, shoving your face into the pillow. how were you supposed to survive the night without it? your arms felt weird. your chest felt cold. everything just felt… off.

you opened your eyes, staring blankly into the dark. there was no way you were going to sleep tonight. not unless you found a way to hug something.

maybe you could steal a pillow from the hallway?

…or, god forbid—ask caleb if he had a spare?

nope. absolutely not. you would rather freeze. you rolled onto your back again, sighing deeply. “this is so dumb,” you whispered to the ceiling.

it didn't take you long enough before you find yourself standing, your toes barely making a sound against the carpet while you crept out of the room, pajamas just a bit too long, sleeves brushing past your fingers. the hallway was dim, lit only by the soft blue glow spilling in from the living room.

you told yourself it was just for water. just something to sip so you could trick your body into thinking it was okay to rest. nothing more.

but just as you turned the corner, there he was.

caleb. curled up sideways on the sofa, legs hanging off the armrest like he’d melted into it, his phone casting a cool glow across his face. he looked cozy. a little sleepy, but still very much awake.

and he saw you immediately. your eyes locked like it was choreographed.

you froze.

so did he.

for a second, neither of you said a word, just two stunned statues in the quiet of midnight. “…can’t sleep?” he finally asked, voice husky and rough with tiredness, but not unfriendly.

you blinked. your fingers gripped the hem of the oversized top. “not really,” you admitted. “uh. was gonna get some water.”

he sat up slowly, the phone slipping onto his chest. “kitchen’s free.”

you nodded, but didn’t move yet. then he tilted his head, eyes scanning your face like he already knew something was up. “you okay?”

you hesitated. should you lie? brush it off? make some excuse? or maybe, just maybe, you could admit the truth. the ridiculous, embarrassing truth. your lips parted, unsure. “…okay, yeah, i can't sleep. not without my pillow.” your plushie, actually.

his mouth quirked, but not in a mocking way. “really?”

“yeah. laugh all you want.”

“i’m not laughing.” he stretched his arms over his head, then let them fall onto his lap with a sigh. “kinda cute, honestly.”

your face warmed. “don’t call it that.”

“but it is.”

you clicked your tongue and started walking toward the kitchen just to escape the way his gaze felt on you. “i’m just gonna get that water now, thanks.”

you heard him chuckle as you stood by the sink, cold glass in hand, the sound of water trickling in almost louder than your heartbeat. everything felt surreal. you used to just watch him from the far end of classrooms, pretending not to look. used to catch glimpses of him laughing with his friends and wonder what it would be like to be that close.

and now? now you were here. in his house. talking to him. because of a stupid snowstorm.

you tightened your grip on the glass, grounding yourself. you took a quiet sip, trying to calm the storm inside for once.

then you felt a shift beside you. a soft presence. the quiet scrape of socked feet on tile.

caleb, leaning casually against the counter, arms crossed, the glow from the overhead light catching in the warm violet of his eyes. “the rest are already fast asleep,” he murmured, voice low like he didn’t want to disturb the quiet.

you glanced up at him. and god. why did he have to look that good under sleepy kitchen lighting?

he wasn’t even doing anything, just standing there in sweatpants and that loose black shirt, like he’d stepped out of a dream you forgot you were having.

your eyes lingered a second too long, before he noticed. his brow arched slightly, amused.

you quickly looked away, down at your glass like it suddenly held the secrets of the universe. “right. yeah,” you said, voice tight and awkward. you looked down at the rim of your glass, fingers tracing along the condensation, anything to keep from meeting his eyes again.

then, quietly, almost sheepishly, you asked, “do you feel okay sleeping on the sofa? sorry for having to take your bed away…” your voice barely carried over the hum of the fridge.

for a moment, caleb didn’t respond. you glanced up, and he was already looking at you. that same soft, unreadable expression on his face. then he shrugged a shoulder, lips tugging into a small smile.

“it’s not a big deal.”

“still. you didn’t have to.”

he scoffed gently, amused. “what, should i let you sleep on the couch while it’s practically snowing knives out there? nah. not happening.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to smile too obviously.

he leaned his elbow on the counter, his body angled toward you now, casual, but his gaze still settled on your features like you were something he couldn’t quite figure out. “besides,” he added, quieter this time, “if it means you’re here… i think i’m okay with it.”

your heart stuttered. you blinked. “...what?”

he looked down, like he couldn’t believe he said that either, brushing a hand through his hair. “i mean, like, i don’t mind. i like... talking to you. and stuff.” his voice was flustered now, the same one you heard when he complimented you earlier, and you knew that your face was fully red again.

you set the glass down carefully, pulse loud in your ears. “i… like talking to you too,” you mumbled, so quietly it was barely audible.

but he heard it. and he smiled again, looking away, like really tilting his head away from your direction. “aaalright,” he sings, stepping back from the counter with a stretch, “since neither of us is sleeping anytime soon… wanna play something?”

you raised a brow, a little wary. “play what?”

he shot you a look like you’d just challenged him. “cards. i’ve got a deck in the drawer. loser has to pick truth or dare.”

“truth or dare? seriously?”

“hey,” caleb said, already moving toward the living room, that smug little smirk growing, “don’t act like you’re not curious. or scared.”

you scoffed, setting your glass down and following him. “i’m not scared.”

“uh-huh,” he called over his shoulder, crouching near the TV stand to rummage through a drawer. “we’ll see how brave you are when i ask if you’ve ever had a crush on someone in this house.”

you choked a little. “that’s—”

he turned, waving the deck at you with a grin. “then don’t lose.”

and with that, caleb plopped down onto the carpet by the coffee table, legs crossed, a flicker of excitement in his eyes. the snow outside still raged on quietly, blanketing the world, but inside, the only storm was the one building between your shared glances and half-laughs.

you sat on the carpet as well, across from him, heart thudding in anticipation. “ready to lose?” he teased, shuffling the cards.

but when you actually started to play now, caleb was the first one to lose. you tried not to gloat, but your grin said it all.

he rolled his eyes with a lazy smirk, leaning back on his palms. “alright, alright. truth.”

you tapped your chin, pretending to think. but really, the question had already been burning in your chest, because this was a golden opportunity! you leaned forward slightly, voice a little too soft. “what do you think of me?” alright. yeah. it was a cheesy question, but what else can i ask?

he didn’t flinch, nor did he shy away. caleb just looked at you, straight on. “i think you’re cute.”

you malfunctioned. why is he so blunt?

he went on, calm, unbothered. “fun to talk to. smart. a little chaotic, in a good way. definitely my... type.” your brain stalled. but caleb just shrugged like he just told you the weather. “why?”

you opened your mouth, closed it again. “i—um. nothing. no reason.”

he gave you a little smirk, already reshuffling the cards. “you asked. don’t get shy now.”

you stared at him, fully malfunctioning while he just dealt the next hand like he didn’t just flip your entire world upside down in five seconds flat.

"hey, continue playin now." he called over, but caleb lost again. you had to stifle your laughter, but there was a spark of excitement inside you. it was like luck had completely turned your way tonight after all the previous events.

"seriously?" caleb squinted, leaning back and running a hand through his hair. "again?"

"looks like it,"

he sighed dramatically, as if he were going to quit the game, but then perked up. "fine, dare me."

you hesitated for a second. part of you wanted to go big, do something wild, but then you remembered just how much chaos he'd already caused. instead, you decided to play it safe. "pinch yourself," you said, trying to keep a straight face.

caleb blinked, eyes widening for a split second as he processed the request. then, he gave you a flat look. "that's it?"

"yep."

he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at you with that trademark smirk. "aw, disappointing," he said, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "kinda expected you to..."

you blinked, your heart pounding a little faster as his gaze lingered on you. "to what?"

"nuthin', nuthin'," he said, waving it off with a small shrug. he then proceeded to pinch his own arm, and you couldn’t help but watch as he did it.

the next round, you actually lost now.

caleb's grin was wide as ever, but then, as you looked at him, you noticed something shift. for a split second, his expression faltered just for a moment, but it was enough to make you wonder what was going through his mind. it was almost like he was thinking about something different.

he cleared his throat quickly, wiping that flicker of uncertainty away, and leaned back in his chair with that same smug look. "looks like you lost. truth or dare?"

you didn’t have the energy to be annoyed. "dare," you said, hoping you'd make it through this round without too much embarrassment.

caleb’s gaze locked onto yours. there was something in his eyes now, something that made you feel a little unsteady. his usual playful teasing was still there, but now it felt sharper, like he was testing you.

after a long, deliberate pause, he finally spoke, his voice a whisper. "kiss me."

your heart stopped. time seemed to freeze for a moment, and your eyes widened as you stared at him in complete shock. did he really just say that? your mind raced, trying to catch up. there was no way he could be serious, right?

but caleb didn’t move, his gaze was still intense, waiting for your response, keeping the ball at your court.

you felt heat flood your face, your stomach flipping in a way that made you feel like you might combust. your breath caught in your throat. what do i even do? “w-what?” you stammered, trying to keep your cool.

"what?," he repeated sardonically, voice calm but with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "it’s a dare, ain't it? nuthin' serious. unless you want it to be?"

you were frozen, the tension thick in the air. caleb’s gaze hadn’t softened, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was messing with you. or was he actually being serious? you swallowed hard once more, trying to gather your thoughts, but your mind was a whirl of confusion, embarrassment, and... something else. something like desire.

but you couldn't back out now. not in front of him. so slowly, you crawled to him, and as you drawled closer, your heartbeat pounded in your ears, each one louder than the last. you barely even realized your hands were trembling.

as you reached him, your face inches from his, you could feel the heat from his body. caleb's eyes flickered down to your lips for a split second, and for just a moment, everything felt unbearably charged.

then, as if to break the tension, he cracked a grin and leaned back just slightly. "hey, you really don’t have to. just a dare, remember?"

you blinked, your mind still reeling. your heart was still racing. "this isn’t funny," you muttered, pulling away quickly.

caleb chuckled softly, clearly amused by the whole situation, but his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than usual. “sorry, sorry,” he said, the teasing tone still there, "go on now."

you didn't think. you just did it.

your heart pounded as you leaned in, closing the distance, and pressing your lips against his, just a quick peck. nothing too intense. just a soft, fleeting touch.

but caleb... caleb twitched. his whole body stilled for a second, like he'd been struck dumb. his eyes widened just a fraction, and for the briefest of moments, you could have sworn there was something raw flickering in his gaze.

you pulled away quickly, your breath hitched in your throat, and you quickly tried to turn away, heart still racing. what the hell did i just do?

but then, caleb didn’t look the way you expected. he didn’t laugh, nor did he make an attempt to tease. no, his gaze was fixed on you, intense and unblinking. his lips parted slightly as he looked at you like he was waiting for something.

there was a brief silence, and then, with a shift in his tone, he asked, "am i allowed to have a follow-up dare?"

you blinked, caught off guard. "huh?"

caleb didn’t smile this time, his eyes softening just a little, as if something unspoken passed between you two. "yeah." his gaze lingered on your lips for a moment, and you could feel the weight of it, “kiss. not just a peck.”

you froze.

“come on,” he said, his voice practically dripping with that same confident teasing. but it was different now. there was a quiet longing beneath the playfulness. “just a kiss. no big deal. it’s just a dare, right?”

your mind went blank. this is not just a dare. he’s... he’s serious.

you swallowed hard, your palms starting to sweat. the room felt smaller. everything felt louder; the way his heart beat, the way your pulse raced, the sound of your breath mixing in the silence between you two.

and then, just like that, with no further hesitation, caleb closed the distance between you again, leaning in as his eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation.

you didn’t stop him. the kiss was different this time. deeper, slower. there was no teasing now, it was just the two of you, caught in a moment that neither of you had really expected, but neither of you could seem to pull away from.

when you finally broke away, both of you were breathing heavily. caleb’s fingers curled tightly at his sides, like he was trying to restrain himself from doing something impulsive. his body was completely tense, and his eyes avoided yours for a brief moment, focusing on the space between you two.

he exhaled, the sound of his breath almost imperceptible, and then his gaze flicked back to you. his voice was quieter now, a little more controlled, as he whispered, “you should go and sleep now, gettin kinda late..”

"yeah… good night,” you whispered back, pulling away and standing up to settle back into his bedroom down the hallway.

before you could even take that step away, caleb was already on his feet. his hand caught your wrist swiftly, and then his other hand found the side of your face. there was no pause, no breath between. he instantly kissed you. "mmn—"

your eyes fluttered shut, body frozen in shock before melting into the sudden heat of it all. his lips pressed against yours like he was trying to make up for every second he didn’t. like he didn’t want to stop. and he didn’t.

instead, he broke the kiss only for a heartbeat, his forehead resting against yours, breath ghosting your lips. “come with me,” he whispered, voice husky.

you barely nodded, barely processed it, before he was gently tugging your hand, leading you back toward his bedroom in silence. it was sudden. so fast you didn’t even get to question it. the moonlight through the windows washed softly over the both of you as you stepped in.

the moment the door clicked shut behind, the world seemed to fall away. caleb’s lips were back on yours before you could even think to process what was happening, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you closer.

he kissed you with a hunger that took you by surprise, each kiss deeper, more urgent than the last, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. his hands roamed to your back, to your hips, to your waist, tugging you toward him until there was no space left between your bodies.

the kiss wasn’t soft anymore, it was messy, passionate, as if he was trying to savor every second, devour every inch of you. your mind was a whirlwind, overwhelmed with sensations, but your body responded before you could even stop it, your hands coming up to grip his shirt, pulling him closer, if that was even possible.

his fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss even more, and for a moment, you forgot everything else. the snowstorm outside, the awkwardness, the game, everything was gone.

caleb’s lips trailed from your mouth, leaving a trail of warmth as they moved down to your neck. the sensation of his kiss against your skin made your breath hitch, and a soft, involuntary whimper escaped you.

his lips paused just below your ear, and he pulled back slightly, his breath warm against your neck. "shhh," he whispered, his voice low and almost possessive. "wouldn't want them to hear you now, do you?"

without breaking the gaze, he pushes you onto the bed, his body following as he hovered over you. his hands framed your face, as if making sure you had nowhere to look but him.

he watched you carefully, breath a little heavier now, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. your face was flushed, lips slightly parted, and for a second, he just studied you, making sure he didn’t move too quickly.

“tell me if you wanna stop,” caleb murmured, his voice softer than before, but still full of that same heat. he leaned down, brushing his nose against yours, a quiet gesture of reassurance amidst the tension. “i won’t push you, okay?”

"it's okay, keep going.."

caleb's eyes narrowed with desire as he heard your breathless consent. a slow, small smile spread across his handsome face, his dimples flashing in the moonlight. "mkay," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

he leaned down, lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck once more. you gasped as he began to trail kisses along your jawline, his mouth hot and insistent against your flesh. his teeth grazed your skin, nipping and biting gently as he made his way down to your collarbone.

your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping the soft locks as you arched your back slightly, giving him better access to your neck. a soft moan escaped your lips as he suckled on your pulse point, no doubt leaving a mark of his possession.

you couldn't believe it, from a snowstorm to a make out session with your crush. you couldn't believe it. but you wanted to keep on going, despite your lack of experience.

caleb's hands roamed your curves, his fingers splaying across your ribcage before sliding down to your hips. he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your bottoms, tugging on them slightly as he continued his sensual assault on your neck and chest.

while he kissed lower, his tongue flicked out to taste the soft swell of your breasts, his teeth catching on the lace of your bra. he looked up at you, eyes filled with a hunger that made your core throb with need. without breaking eye contact, he reached behind you and unhooked your bra with deft fingers, tossing it aside carelessly.

your breasts spilled free, and caleb's mouth was on them in an instant. he laved his tongue over one hardened nipple before drawing it into his mouth, suckling greedily. his other hand came up to knead the soft mound of your breast, his fingers sinking into the pliant flesh.

he's doing it all so quickly and effortlessly like he'd been practicing.

then, he worked his way down your body, kissing and nipping at the soft skin of your stomach, his tongue dipping into your belly button. he paused when he reached the waistband of your shackles, looking up at you with a teasing grin.

"lift your hips for me," he commanded, and you complied, lifting your hips off the bed as he tugged your undergarments and slid them off your ankles.

he paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you laid out bare before him, his eyes roaming hungrily over your naked form.

"shit, you're gorgeous," he breathed, his voice filled with awe and desire. his hand came down to rest on your inner thigh, his thumb brushing maddeningly close to your aching core.

unable to resist any longer, caleb leaned in and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your thigh, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. he worked his way further slowly, your breath hitching and your back arching off the bed as he drew closer and closer to your dripping center.

without warning, he pressed a kiss directly to your clit, making you cry out in surprise and pleasure. "caleb—" his tongue circled the sensitive bundle of nerves before he drew it into his mouth, suckling hard. your hands flew to his hair, gripping the strands tightly as your hips bucked up against his face.

while he licked and suckled your clit, caleb's hand came up to tease your entrance. "you're wet," he ran a finger along your slit, feeling the slick heat of your arousal coating his digit. unable to hold back any longer, he says, "i'm gunna put it in, okay?" he pushes a finger inside your tight channel, grunting against your clit as he felt your walls clench around the intrusion.

he began to pump his finger in and out, his pace slow and steady. at the same time, caleb pulls away to bring his other hand down to his own aching cock, wrapping his fingers around the thick shaft. he grunted as he began to stroke himself simultaneously with the thrusts of his finger.

"can you look at me?" he moaned, staring down at you with a feverish gaze, you could see the beads of sweat trickling down his collarbone. he sweats so easily. he added a second finger the moment your eyes meet, pumping them in and out of your dripping cunt faster with increasing fervor.

his thumb rubbed firm circles over your clit, the rough pad of his finger stimulating the sensitive nub with each pass. "ahh, fuck!" you gasped, your head thrashing against the pillow as the intensity of your pleasure mounted. your hips bucked and writhed beneath his touch, seeking more of the delicious friction.

"quiet," caleb hissed, but nonetheless too spurred on by your enthusiastic responses that he doubles his efforts. his hand flew over his aching cock, stroking the thick shaft with fast, tight pumps. the lewd sound of squelching noises filled the room as he jerked himself off, growing louder and more urgent with each passing second. beads of pre-cum leaked from the swollen head, dripping down to coat his pumping fist.

"oh god, caleb..." you cried out again, your voice breaking as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. your inner walls fluttered and clenched around his pistoning fingers, gripping them like a vice.

acting quickly, he brought his free hand up to cover your mouth, "you're gunna wake the house up," his palm muffling any sound that threatened to escape from you, then simultaneously, he slams his throbbing cock deep into your spasming pussy with one powerful thrust.

"mmph!" your scream of ecstasy was reduced to a strangled moan against his hand as caleb's thick shaft stretched and filled you in an instant, reaching depths you'd never felt before. your slick walls, still fluttering from your climax, clenched down around him like a hot, velvety vise.

"fuck!" caleb hissed through gritted teeth despite himself, his eyes squeezing shut at the sudden, exquisite sensations of your tight, dripping cunt gripping his cock. he stilled for a moment, allowing you both to adjust to the intense sensation of being so utterly filled and connected.

his hips pressed firmly against yours, the coarse hair at the base of his shaft tickling your sensitive skin. his chest heaved against your own as he struggled to maintain control, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

"jesus christ you're tight," caleb breathed, his lips brushing against your ear. "we don't wanna alert the whole house to what we're doing. so..." caleb began to move, "keep quiet, alright?"

yeah, you're totally gonna keep quiet about how three days before christmas your plan of giving your crush an anonymous gift during a snowstorm led you to having sex with him in his bedroom. absolutely. you're going to keep quiet about how you used to just observe caleb playing basketball from the bleachers and now you're watching him tease his dick into your hole. those irises that only used to meet your gaze in hallways, now eyed you down while he rubbed his tip against your womb.

"mmh...!" you continued whining. how couldn't you? he stretched you out so perfectly, and he looks so hot doing it.

"i told you to keep quiet, right?" caleb pressed his hand on your lips even more harder. "right?"

yeah, you're gonna keep quiet about this.

#lnds #love and deepspace #lnds x reader #love and deepspace caleb #lads headcanon #lads caleb #lnds caleb #caleb xia #caleb x mc #caleb x you #caleb x reader #caleb #caleb x y/n #caleb x non!mc reader #caleb smut #caleb fic

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nereidprinc3ss · 5 months ago

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candied pecans

in which uni!reader has to wake up early for a final, and spencer reid is determined to let you get as much rest as possible

fluff (18+ for mildly suggestive remarks) wc <800 warnings/tags: Spencer being a sweetheart, basically sex jokes, he makes you breakfast, gnreader a/n: I MISSED THEM BADDDD!!! this is v v short and based on a dream I had where he brought me breakfast so I could sleep in and I asked him to stay in bed while I was gone LOL

Your alarm goes off and your brow furrows like even in sleep, you’d been bracing for it. Every dream had been sterile—and worse—or potentially better—you’d dreamed about your study material.

Quickly as it started, the robotic blaring ceases. You almost slip back into sleep, but fight tooth and nail for consciousness, propping up on an elbow and rubbing your eyes in the dark grey of the early morning. Already there’s a warm hand on your chest, exerting what is more a suggestion of pressure rather than any actual force. Spencer’s voice is grainy.

“Hey. Go back to sleep.”

“I have a final,” you slur.

“In two hours. You can get at least another half hour of sleep.”

“But then I can’t—”

“I know, you can’t use that time to scroll on your phone. I’m terrible for even suggesting it. You were up late, honey. Come back and sleep longer and you’ll do better on your final.”

You’re already falling down. The bed is so warm, and your lids are so heavy.

“Okay,” you mumble, eyes shut before you even hit the pillow.

You wake up to fingers in your hair. He’s always so unbelievably gentle with you. Just as effective as an alarm clock—far more pleasant.

“Good morning,” he says, and there’s no sleep in his voice like there was the last time you woke up. You curl into him where he sits on the side of the mattress and he cups your cheek with a warm hand.

“Time?”

“Don’t get mad at me.”

That really wakes you up.

“What did you do?”

“I let you sleep for a half hour!” he defends. Your brow furrows and you rub an eye, squinting up at him. That sheepish look on his face is concerning. “… Twice.”

“It’s seven?” You half yell, rocketing upward. He laughs and catches you against his chest. In your half-awake state, you can’t defend yourself, so you end up with your head cradled to his chest. But you’re not as happy about it as you’d normally be.

“All I did was cut into your phone time, which we came to a consensus on, and your breakfast time. So I made you breakfast.”

You turn your head so you can look up at him from against his chest.

“… Oh. You did?”

“Yes,” he says simply, picking up the plate you’d missed on the bedside table and presenting it to you.

Two pieces of toast, each with butter and a different kind of jam because he knows you can never pick. Apple slices. Eggs, exactly the way you like them. Candied pecans, which are supposed to be for salads, and which you sneak handfuls of anyway.

“Oh,” you murmur again.

“There’s green tea in the mug, too. Caffeinated, obviously.”

You sit up straighter and take the plate into your lap over the blanket, nibbling on a slice of toast before kissing him.

“Thank you,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder and studying the frosty day beyond the window, deciding how to dress for the weather as you chew.

He slips his hand under your shirt to rub circles on your back.

“Of course. I was actually excited to make you breakfast. How often is it that you’re running out the door and I don’t have anywhere to be?”

“How often is it that you get so badly injured Hotch makes you stay home?”

Too often, is the punchline.

“He’s being anal,” Spencer scoffs, mood suddenly a wink soured. “A sprained ankle is hardly an injury.”

“Mm,” you hum around another bite of toast. “I’d say a fractured bone is pretty injurious.”

“He’s on your payroll, and you want me home. It’s a plot.”

“That’s ridiculous. I don’t pay him. He’s just scared of me.”

“It is pretty suspicious I got the week off just as we’re heading into your winter break.”

“Mhm. I’m gonna keep you here,” you say earnestly, snapping off half an apple slice with your teeth and offering the rest to him. “And make you watch movies and have sex all week.”

He crunches on the fruit and laughs.

“Ambitious. I’m pretty sure it’s more likely that we watch movies and sleep all week.”

You look up at him with big eyes.

“That’s still fun.”

“Oh, that’s exactly my idea of fun,” he says, and while those who don’t know Spencer quite as well as you do would perhaps mistake it for sarcasm, you know better. You settle back on his shoulder.

“I think you should stay in bed, ’cause I’ll be home by 10:00. And then I’ll get here and you’ll already be all warm and cozy so we can cuddle all day.”

“Or we could have sex,” he says hopefully.

You throw a pecan at him.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer Reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fluff

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bluebellhairpin · 9 months ago

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Cregan Stark X Wife!Reader

Summary: Preparation to leave to Castle Black for the winter months is well under way, and you're reluctant to be left alone in Winterfell. Cregan, having had the same worry, provides what could be a solution. A solution with a name. And fur. (wc. 2.3k>)

Warnings: Reader has she/her pronouns + fem bodied. Pregnancy. Assassination attempt. Unnamed character death. Blood + gore. Cregan wants to be a girl dad. Unedited (lol).

Listening to: 'Wolf at Your Door' by Chole x Halle - "When you're laying in your bed at night, when the air's just a little too quiet, better hope that you're saying your prayers."

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Ko-Fi || AO3 link

Winterfell was a somber place when the cold rolled down from the north.

Although only ten men were sent to the wall every winter, everyone left behind knew someone who was sent away. No matter how short of a life you lived, you also always knew someone who died there. Indeed, life on the wall was as harsh as the force it existence kept at bay.

For you though, the man you lost always returned. The last three winters had you spend upwards of three months without your husband - and in turn rising to take his place as custodian of Winterfell. No matter how busy the role kept you, it never helped you miss Cregan Stark any less.

With winter approaching once more, each moment with him seemed to not be enough. Yes, the Wall was dangerous, and even Cregan was never guaranteed to return, but this year there was something else that willed you to want him to stay. Something else that made him want to stay too.

“Each day my resolve seems to crack,” he told you one night, fire cracked in its hearth as you both lay under blankets of fur. His hand rested protectively over your belly. “Already now I can see our babe grow, and I know I’ll not only be missing you but her too.”

“‘Her’?” you hummed, head turning to nose his cheek. “Such a confident tone, my lord.”

“I am confident.” he replied, turning to press a soft kiss to your lips as his hand idlily rubbed along your stomach.

“And if you needed an heir at the end of this cold winter, what then?”

“If my lady wife deems me worthy, we might try for one again.” he said, sedating what could’ve been the start of your mood change with words almost too sweet to be coming from the frosty king in the north. “But that is something we can decide once all three of us are safe together when summer rises.”

Cregan’s soft words and warm breath on your cheeks made your mind wandered to a time not so far away where you wouldn’t have his heat so close. A time when his comfort was going to be gone.

“I’m going to miss you.” you said, turning into his hold more, and he let you snuggle into his chest. “This time will feel longer than all the others.”

“I doubt that will be the case for you.” he said, lips moving from their place pressed into your hair. “Winterfell will keep you busy, between that and resting for the babe’s sake, you won’t have time on your hands for much else.”

“I may not want to rest.”

“You will. The Lord of Winterfell commands it.”

“The Lord of Winterfell won’t be here, he cannot have a for sure say in what I do or do not do.” You felt him smile into your hair, and you pulled away with a twitch of your own mouth. “What?”

He pulled away a little too, shyly smiling down at where you still laid. He was acting far too coy to be considered normal.

“I might not be leaving you completely alone.”

“... Cregan.” you started, sitting up on our elbow.

“I was going to show you on the morrow, but since you’ve forced my hand -”

“-I? Forcing your hand?”

“- Since you forced my hand,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he slipped out from the bedcovers, “I will be right back.”

“What…” You tried, but your voice tempered out as he swiftly made his way from your bedchambers.

Sighing, you sat back in your pillows, arms folded, and refraining from pouting. It wasn’t long into your settled position of guessing what in the seven kingdoms your husband was doing before he was back.

Cregan had clearly gone outside, snow settled on the top of his hair and along the shoulders of the fur cloak he snatched before leaving. In his arms was something squirming. You frowned, eyeing the movement under the cloak as he strode over.

“What is that?” you asked.

“A protector for the Lady of Winterfell, as per the orders of her lord husband.” Cregan said, and let the squirming mass break free from his hold onto the bed.

It was a… pup? No not possible, it was too big. From how it acted it was a few months surely, but it was just so big. Then you thought some more. Could it really be?

“A direwolf?”

“Not any direwolf. Yours.” Cregan said, rounding the bed and settling back at your side. “A protector to be at your side when I cannot. I’ve been training him and he follows commands well already. By the time I leave he should be grown to the size of any regular dog - then at least twice that when I return.”

While he spoke, the pup sniffed around your bed covers, curiously wandering on unsteady feet. You had to admit, he looked gorgeous, all black fur, with green eyes, and you didn’t doubt he would grow to be a fierce thing. But sometimes that wasn’t always good.

“Cregan, are you sure about this?” you asked. “It’s… he’s a direwolf, not a dog.”

“I’m sure,” he said, lending his arm out. The pup stepped closer, licking Cregan’s fingers and settling on its belly with its nose on Cregan’s knee. “They’re our house symbol. The direwolf are as Stark as I am, they know who we are, and they can be as loyal as they are fierce. That’s why I wanted to introduce you before I left. He’s going to be yours, loyal to you.”

His arm wrapped around your shoulder, and like second nature you made yourself comfortable by his side. The pup shifted too, now his nose was itching closer to you, wanting to know who this new person was.

“I supposed you ought to tell me what I'm going to be calling him then.”

“You can call him anything you like,” Cregan said, “But I’ve been calling him Striker.”

Five months passed, and Cregan was right. You were never without anything to do.

The babe growing inside you made mornings rough, and you often weren’t seen before noon, especially in the earlier months. The rest of your day was spent catching up on what you’d missed while resting, and then catching up on what you missed while catching up. Then the evenings were spent with Striker.

He had grown on you, just as he had grown physically. Cregan was still able to lift the wolf when he left, but now you doubted it. He was already well on his way to rivalling a regular wolf in size. Despite how intimidating that might’ve been, you couldn’t be more fond of Striker even if you tried.

Your belly swelled, and with it so did the direwolf’s protectiveness. Your handmaids were tolerated, your guards struggled to be in the same room, and when the maesters dared tough you Striker had to be sent out of the room. Walks around Winterfell were soon out of the question, at least if you were to bring the direwolf along, since he took to growling at everyone who stood too close.

Cregan really picked well, Striker surely was serving his purpose, and soon he earned his namesake.

Word came from Castle Black that Cregan was going to return, that the Winter had been fended off once more. That brought joy foremost to you, but really all in Winterfell knew what that meant, even if Westeros didn’t. It was cause for celebration when they returned.

It also gave a false sense of security. Winter was gone, and so was the evil - but evil didn’t just come from the north. It could come from anywhere.

You’d settled into bed for the night, Striker laid beside you, head facing towards the door, and your hand rested on his flank as you looked over one last paper. He growled, and you petted his fur, silently reassuring him that it was just a guard passing outside - but then his head lifted, and turned toward your window. His sudden, still alertness put you on edge.

He’d been hostile before, but this was aggressive.

Candle flames flickered, Striker’s fur stood on end beneath your palm, the latch on your window clicked open, creaked open, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. A cloaked figure slipped into your room, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to cry for help - nor to remember anything Cregan had taught you. But you didn’t have to.

The figure, a man, unsheathed a knife, and with the glint of steel in the candlelight Striker struck. He surged off the bed with a vicious bark and bit into the man’s arm, snarling all the while and all but went to tearing the man to shreds.

The commotion had people coming in through the door, and the sight had you still rendered motionless and speechless.

The man’s cloak was torn away, and by now he was pinned to the floor, blood pooling on the stone as he fruitlessly tried to get Striker off him. You barely registered your guard, Gunther, asking you what was happening.

“He came in the window. He had a knife.” was all you could say. You could guess he was saying things to calm you down as he pried your fingers off your bedsheets that covered your swollen belly - he was probably trying to get you out of the room so you didn’t see the mess. It was too late for that. The man was a whimpering, bloodied mess on the floor by now, and no one had yet been brave enough to pry Striker’s jaw off his shoulder.

Gunther had an arm around you with your hand in his, guiding you away. Others attempted to move closer, either to help the man or take him away - but Striker was still growling.

“Striker, here.” you called, just finding your voice enough for it to carry over the commotion. The direwolf looked up, and seeing you being led away, he relented, fitting into your side with ease.

The three of you walked away. Now you were away from the scene you could think again and guess you were going down the hall to another room, one you decided you’d stay in until Cregan returned.

You looked down at Striker, threading your fingers though the fur at his neck.

“Good boy.” you said, stroking between his ears.

“He sure is, my lady.” Gunther said, “Who knows what could’ve happened if he didn’t act so fast.”

You smiled a little at that, at how right Cregan was in leaving the direwolf for you. He was meant to be company, a protector second - but tonight he proved to be as good, as loyal as any of your guards. He proved to be the real sigil of House Stark - just as Cregan told you he was.

You reached the door of your new room, and as your hand lifted off Striker’s back you noticed it chill with the cold night air. Turning your palm over, you saw red - and Striker’s nose made home in your fingers, licking away every drop as if it wasn’t ever there to begin with.

A week later, Cregan returned.

You had been in a foul mood for the past three days, since the maester had put you on strict bed rest because of the babe. Therefore you had been deemed unfit to greet your husband at the gate as he finally came home. In your defense, it definitely seemed like a good reason to be sour.

So you waited, sat on a chaise, with Striker’s head in your lap pressed to your stomach.

You could hear a commotion outsider, which only made your face scrunch in annoyance - not just at missing out but also at the pity looked you knew your handmaiden would be giving you. She offered to go fetch Cregan, and you nodded her leave with a wave of your hand.

“He will be here soon.” you said, cradling Striker’s muzzle in your palms.

“Indeed he will.” Cregan said.

“Oh, Lord Stark!” your handmaid said, startled. Your head turned, and you saw him standing in the doorway.

“Cregan!” you said, grin covering your face - and even after such a long time away, Striker seemed to recognize him, for he didn’t growl, and his tail started thumping against the rug.

“My love,” he said, shedding his great sword carelessly, and sunk to the floor beside where you sat. You heard your handmaid mumble a goodbye before stepping out and closing the door behind you. “Are you alright?”

“I couldn’t be better now.” you replied, feeling tears welling in your eyes as you took in your husband's face for the first time in months. He looked tired, older, but as you took his face in your hands his cheeks felt exactly the same as they were when he left. “I missed you so much.”

“I heard about what happened the other night. I -” he said, mouth hanging open in what could’ve been shock, in his eyes there could’ve been anger. Vengeance would do nothing now, the man was dead, he bled out before anyone could decide to give him mercy - undeserved or otherwise. But as Cregan leant forward to hold you into his arms, his warmth felt like nothing else except fear. “I can’t believe I could’ve lost you.”

“You didn’t.” you said, taking an arm away from being wrapped around his shoulders to pull his face away from your chest. “You provided the means for me to stay safe long before you left. Striker was better than any guard. He was fearless when I was frozen. I owe him my life, all because of you.”

Cregan’s face turned soft, and he smiled at you. He leant forward and kissed you. For the first time in too long, his lips move against yours. You felt his jaw move beneath your palm as his fingers grazed your neck and held onto your hip. When he pulled away, he kept your head cradled close to his.

“I love you.” he said.

“I love you too.” you replied, and he smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips, then your cheek.

“Now tell me all about how my little girl is growing.”

#cregan stark x female reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #hotd x reader #hotd x you

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karinasbaby · 10 months ago

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yang jungwon — GUTS.

P. fem!reader x vampire!jungwon (17+) | W. unprotected sex, not an accurate deception of vampires, blood drinking, biting, marking, making out, multiple orgasms, subspace, petnames, tying up, just filthy. filthy shit. cursing too. | WC. 5.1k (was supposed to be 3k) | A,N. this one’s for nia my beloved @intromortal i hope u find some sort of comfort in this (⺣◡⺣)♡ love u lots + hope u and all jungwon girlies enjoy !

in which.. you trying to get used to your fangs somehow leads to jungwon getting tied up.

very important ps ! this was not edited or proofread in any way i wrote this at 4 am sorry! + this was inspired by moonstruck if u couldn’t tell (stream romance untold)

this totally wasn’t the ideal situation you were hoping to find yourself with a mere year ago.

a scenario consisting you, your supernatural boyfriend, his fangs and yours.

something single, hopeless, last year you would’ve had a hard time grasping and processing. that is if she was able to believe the fact that you were alive in the first place. as last year— well it wasn’t the best year you’ve experienced, and that statement heavily sugarcoats the tragic ups and downs you tumbled through.

but thankfully, in one of those depressed, cold night where you found yourself walking through the streets of the city all alone, you also found the love of your life.

again, not in the most ideal situation. seeing your future boyfriend ripping apart a random human’s flesh in the dark alleyway wasn’t the best first impression of a potential partner you’ve seen.

but alas, that faithful day did somehow manage to develop and nurture the relationship that evolved between the two of you. deeply connecting your beating heart to his frozen one, which was the sentimental beginning of the flourishing love for you.

now those days— the ones where you spoke to jungwon shyly whereas he tried his best to avoid eye contact with you in order to not get flustered were long gone. the bond that formed for both you allowed all the embarrassing and unnerving moments to quickly disappear.

some might claim you were moving on too quickly with your relationship, others might say that you’re just in the high peak of your love and that your fall was soon. yet none of those words mattered. not when jungwon has confessed his love for you.

not when he worships you every chance he gets. devoting himself to you completely and even begging you for a chance of eternity for your love. “an eternity for you, an evermore for us.” he would whisper against your skin.

and you agreed. of course you did. you would love to spend an eternity with jungwon. a happily forever after with your dear lover who always whispers how if his heart was alive, it would beat continuously for you only.

your lover that made you forget what your other previous relationships were like, the cliche sensation of falling atop a puddle of clouds and travelling through euphoria was long forgotten. replaced with the sinking feeling of drowning. a deep deep ocean of pure ardour that made you sink further below with each and every frosty wave that washed upon you.

and though your limbs became frozen, wrapped between icy fingertips and your breathing became impossible with the cold lips pressed against yours, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

not when this was the love jungwon was providing you.

and maybe you agreeing was when things started to head south a bit too quickly. too unexpectedly.

turning into the same creature as jungwon was an unforgettable experience. a beautiful yet painfully traumatising one. though with your lover’s support and care it became a distant, memorable thought for you in the back of your head.

one that you weren’t able to focus on due to the pounding in your ears. the ache in the back of your skull. and the pulsing pain right on your canines.

two hundered and sixteen hours. it’s been exactly nine days of pure agony since you turned.

the pain was unbearable. noxious. a carnal and vile sensation that raked through every vein in your unfamiliarly cold body. still not used to the dizzying icy feel of your fingertips against warmer surfaces that once felt cool beneath your touch.

you felt unstable. hunger overpowering every rational thought in your head. the absolute need to feed on the metallic taste that your tongue craved so deeply right now was wicked. the desire digging through each inch of your being and setting off every nerve with animalistic crave.

regretting every offer from jungwon to feed from him was futile. going on your first hunt while your lover was resting just to satiate your hunger was discarded out the window and feeding on the newly brought blood bags jungwon stored in your fridge was also forgotten as he did warn you that newly turned vampires should feed from someone else instead of a blood bag.

which didn’t make sense. bullshit excuse. but you were too scared.

that was the thing that stopped you from accepting all of jungwon’s caring offers, fear. the terrifying fear of possibly hurting your lover webbed its way around your head so intricately no matter how many times jungwon tried to get rid of it, it never worked.

but you were struggling.

canines turning sharper by the minute. elongated bones poking against your lips and swollen tongue that grew sensitive from the spiky edge. the thirst in your chest became wanton. your throat turning drier and drier the more time passed. nothing was working.

closing your eyes as your grip on the couch below you turned tighter only infuriated you more. it was way past midnight. jungwon was resting in your shared bedroom. the furthest point away from the living room where you were situated, in complete fear and hunger.

despair clouded your thoughts. nine days with no feeding since you turned was ridiculous. jungwon had warned you multiple times about how dangerous your actions are. harming your body and turning you weaker than you already are. yet you wouldn’t listen. as the defiant fear flourished further, you couldn’t bring yourself to take his worries into consideration.

well up until now.

up until this current moment, when you physically felt your body and surroundings shifting entirely. a forceful push making you stand on your own two shaking feet, coaxing you to move from your spot towards the door you’ve been staring at for the past few hours.

the bedroom door, where jungwon laid peacefully resting after a long and exhausting night of hunting accompanied by fruitless attempts of convincing you to feed on him. muffled footsteps barely reached your eyes through the loud ringing of your ears.

you weren’t aware but jungwon could feel your presence. even see you with his eyes closed due to his severely heightened senses. he could see and feel the way your eyes glowed a dark, dangerous red. lips bitten and split open in tiny cuts due to the sharpening of your fangs. and most importantly, he could very obviously feel your hunger.

the sensation coming as a shocking, staggering wave to him. he felt the way each cell in your body craved and yearned for blood. the iron taste to coat your tastebuds and satisfy your reeling mind. he could practically taste your hunger on his own lips.

yet he didn’t move on the bed, deciding that if this is what it took you to finally feed on him, then he’ll stay resting. asleep even in your mind. allowing you to do whatever your vampiric mind desires and deems as useful in this current moment.

which is why when your crazed eyes caught the sight of the animal chains used by jungwon to capture creatures that wafted through the forests, he felt a wave of excitement wash down on him. especially when you gripped the chains so tightly between your fingers and dragged them along with you towards the bed.

he patiently awaited you. eyes closed to further fake his sleep, unaware that you couldn’t differentiate between reality and your thoughts to let alone remember the fact that vampires don’t usually sleep. bringing up the heavy chains to wrap around jungwon’s wrists, the click and clank of the metal loudly echoed through the room yet you could only hear the continuous ringing in your ears.

with an unnoticeable smirk, jungwon kept his wrists pressed against one another to give you more ease in tying the chains, he could tell you were completely delirious. out of your mind as you tried to somehow make the pieces of metal stay in place. “fuck..” you cursed quietly, an unclear pronunciation reaching jungwon’s ears as you struggled to speak with the sharp fangs and swollen tongue. something jungwon found really endearing.

once you finally tightened the animal chains around your vampire lover’s wrist, your glowing red eyes shifted downwards. his pale skin shimmering with a sheen layer of sweat that appeared like glitter. the bright hue illuminated by the moonlight was so breathtaking, he looked so bewitching.

yet your admiration for his beauty couldn’t last long, as the heavy, dizzying scent of divine blood reached your nose aggressively due to the close proximity. with jungwon being a mere inches away from your mouth, the sound of his beating heart and circulation echoed enticingly in your eyes.

blood, oh how sacred it was. serving as the connection point between so many living creatures. the tilting brink for life and death. and the reason why you’re still alive till this day.

jungwon had always taught you the importance of the feathery light liquid that weighed a whole life, the revered blood that served the purpose for the existence of your lover. the light of your whole life and your eternity. the ichor that has been worshipped for centuries, the same one you were about to taste on the tip of your tongue right now.

and the most precious kind too.

the scent was dizzying, intoxicating. your senses picking up all the pulse points travelling in jungwon’s body, each one pulsating the crimson liquid that made the elongated canines in your mouth ache all the more. it was as if the remaining blood in your body cascaded away from your brain. making you lose all logical thinking as you lowered your head towards jungwon’s inviting, delicate neck that appeared more delicious oddly.

your shallow breaths grew even more irregular. if you had a heartbeat you knew it would’ve been raging by now, pounding nervously against your ribs. you opened your mouth, puffed lips separating and allowing your fangs to glisten against the moonlight. you were so close. so so close to getting exactly what you wanted.

and when your teeth grazed the surface of jungwon’s skin, the decrease of distance making your head spin as you could inhale his scent better now. and god was it so alluring. such a electrifying scent that enlivened all parts of your body and brain. setting off a different fire that blazed up your being entirely, driven completely by hunger. crave. voracity.

before you could flow further in the cloud of euphoria caused by the mere scent of the vampire’s blood beneath you, your instincts took control, sinking your teeth into his vein and allowing the absolute ecstasy of his flavour to wash down on your body.

and god did it reawaken you entirely.

the regret of the previous rejected offers that weighed like rocks on your shoulders disappeared the more blood rushed into your mouth. at jungwon’s unnoticeable hiss, you were reminded of the fact that you need to inject your venom inside of him.

he thrashed beneath you once your ecstasy forged its way into his bloodstream. instantly sending his mind into a state of complete delirium that made his eyes roll to the back of his skull in pleasure. he was on the seventh heaven.

jungwon tasted so unbelievably delicious. an overwhelming sweetness that sent your senses into a frenzy. the hunger that bloomed and grew in your stomach and chest bursted all over your body. nourishing your veins in a different kind of euphoria, a new taste ascending down your throat that closed and gulped the precious essence in fear of wasting a singular droplet of it.

your weakened knuckles tightened around his broad shoulders, nails gradually digging deeper into his skin the more you rode off the high from the bliss provided by jungwon’s blood. you could detect every unique factor about his taste, the first rush of sweetness followed by the warmness that swam in your mouth and the metallic, iron slaty like aftertaste that you slowly grew addicted to.

you pressed your body as close as possible to his, chest on chest as his heavy breaths and groans fell right onto your ears. the air shifted the longer his essence spilled onto your mouth. and you continued to suck, licking up the fervid blood that was as addictive as an aphrodisiac. the high and elation you felt from it only encouraging you to suck more. to swallow more. to feed your desire more and more.

jungwon’s breaths got heavier beneath you, uneven and shaky exhales that brushed against your cold skin. he could feel his body blazing up the further your sickeningly sweet venom spread. he felt so satisfied though he wasn’t the one that was feeding. finding a different kind of joy rushing through his body at the sight of you finally smearing the ruby liquid along your lips.

“finally?” he croaked out, voice quiet as his muscles twitched under your bite, a muffled noise of pleasure reached his ears as a response which made him chuckle. “you gave in.” he continued, shoulders sagging under your touch while the metal clanked around his wrists. he closed his hands to enjoy the close vicinity he had you in, the precious moment that solidified your relationship further.

the connection between two vampires, the exchange of delicious blood for precious venom.

it was a ritual, a connection and a form of bond jungwon had always searched for. unlike most vampires that didn’t pay any mind to getting marked by their lover after marking them, this act however held a heavy weight over jungwon’s unbeating heart.

could it be the influence of his loving parents that marked each other and valued their marking night as more memorable and precious than their own wedding? might be. either way, this bond. this gift that he had been blessed with, was something he had be waiting for patiently as the centuries passed by.

though he had turned some humans into one of his own kind, he had never gotten marked. preserving his neck as something only his lover, partner for life and eternity will have the right of approaching.

“tastes nice?” chuckling as you only continued to satiate your hunger. his smile deepened when you just hummed against his blood, dimple appearing as he allowed you to drink from him as much as you desired.

in the blink of an eye the metal chains fell across the floor besides the bed, “you never needed these, precious.” he spoke gently. lowering his hands to cradle the back of your neck and wrap around your waist, he tilted his head to the side to give you more access to the expanse of his neck, encouraging you to drink more.

humming in delight when you released more venom further into his bloodstream, yours felt so warm and heavy. intoxicating as the pleasure from it raked through his body, he felt so good. so ecstatic. drunk on the sensation of your venom rushing through his body just as much as you were drunk on the flavour of him coating your insides.

the mixing fuse of his venom with your blood was euphoric. yet nothing could compare to the feeling of his blood unifying with your venom. an indescribable febrile sensation that set all his nerves aflame. burning with a fire that only blazed bigger and larger. the need and crave for you increasing by the second.

the longer your poison stirred with his blood, the more he yearned for you. a feverish want and an ardent need, functioning purely on impulse when his hands lowered to press you lower on his lap. the pleasure awakening another arousal that spread throughout your bodies. you could feel his length rock hard, pulsing with need as it was confined in his pants. “you’re in my blood.” jungwon whispered dazedly.

“finally.” his muscles clenched and tightened under your bite the more he spoke, the action pushing out further blood that spilled down your throat, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as all your senses reawakened, rekindling every nerve with your brain that made you become more aware with everything.

every sensation suddenly seemed intense. each movement in your body felt electrifying. like a new consciousness that just stirred awake after your first feeding, everything felt surreal. with every gulp of blood, another shock passed through your limbs. the revival of your senses become overwhelming, resulting in your hands to lower, to grasp onto jungwon’s muscular arms to ground yourself.

“that’s enough, doll.” he cradled your face in his large hand, his touch though icy cold, felt warm against your skin. he gently pulled you away from the open bite, your fangs slipping out as blood trickled down your lips and his neck. he quickly guided your lips back to lick the wound, finally sealing your marks on him. “did so well for me, my love.”

“feel satisfied enough now?” his catlike eyes stared at you in wonder, his own lips having a light pink hue to them due to biting them from the overwhelming pleasure. his stare at you darkened when you shook your head in denial, feeling far from satisfied. anything but satisfied with his rock hard length pressing against your core.

“what do you need then, princess?” he asked, dipping his nose to run the tip of it along your cheeks softly before burying his head against your neck, pressing a tender kiss on your pulse points. “you.” whispering breathlessly for him, his hands tightened their hold around you. lustful gaze challenging your own lidded one, “you sure you can handle me right now, pretty?” he teased.

you whined in need in his embrace, feeling the way his cock throbbed in need for you. each cell in his body craving you, the urge to hold you as close as possible to him wasn’t as fulfilling as it used to feel, he felt the infernal need to bury himself inside of you. mould and shape your souls into one so that he can breathe freely.

you nodded your head to his words, the arousal that awakened in you stirred hotly in your stomach, reaching further down into your abdomen and blazing your whole body on fire. you felt so warm. so fitting into his frame, so alluring to him. that he had no other choice than to claim you as his.

“get on the bed, princess.” he whispered into your ear, in the blink of an eye he moved your bodies around on the mattress. his speed and strength evident in every movement as he pinned you under him between the silk sheets, he stared at you. from his position and perspective you looked so ravishing. so delicious he wanted to devour you whole. let you become a piece of him and him a piece of you.

“you smell delightful, my love.” whispering against your skin as he pushed his nose against your jugular veins, his strong hands brushing against every inch of your body on their way to your core, their pace turning slower the breathier your gasps and moans of his name became, just to rile you up further.

“please, baby.” you begged, voice barely above a whisper as your eyes closed in intense pleasure, each touch of his fingertips leaving a trail of fire behind them as they brushed along your body, “i know, angel.” he kissed your exposed collarbone to soothe you, “i know.” and without a warning he teared off your clothes from your frame.

relishing in the surprised gasp that left your mouth as his eyes raked your body, the one that no matter how many times he kissed and worshipped, he’ll always crave and fantasise about. you were so enchanting to jungwon. if he could spend your eternity with him marking every inch of your skin, he would. the mere thought of dedicating himself to your body only seemed like a dream to him.

and each time he got you under him, he tried to do just that. to devote himself to your body entirely before pleasing you two to the edge of your limits, pushing you so far not even the peeking sunlight through the dark blinds could even make him consider the possibility of quitting for the day.

“smell so good baby.. taste so sweet.” he ran the tip of his tongue along your skin, praises falling like waterfalls from his lips when they were not pressed against you, you could only whimper and writhe under him as he pleased your body. as this was no longer a matter between you and jungwon, it was your body and jungwon.

he knew and had memorised you like the back of his hand. knowing exactly what parts of your body were the most sensitive, what kind of kiss will make your eyes roll to the back of your head, how to angle his hips to hit your sweet sweet spot and make you unravel beneath him in seconds, and this doesn’t even cover even a quarter of it.

though he was a vampire, your body was heaven to him. and he was the most devoted and committed angel.

“won.. i need you. right now, please.” you shakily moaned when his fangs grazed your hip bone, right over the fresh hickey he placed on your skin, his eyes raked over your body and over the new marks. his artwork that glowed underneath him, before they reached your pleasured face. and god did you look stunning.

how could he deny you of pleasure any longer when you stared at him with glossy eyes? the rapid raising and falling of your chest as you tried your best to regulate your breathing, and the scent of metallic blood that made his head spin. that’s when he noticed the tiny crimson droplets decorating your lower lip from your harsh bites.

and fuck did that just push him past his own limit.

“i got you, doll.” he pushed his pants and boxers down before discarding them in the room, sliding his shirt off and throwing it besides the bed as he finally lowered himself onto you. his skin burned against yours. the contact almost electrifying, building up the hilt of his ecstasy gradually, he then connected your lips, allowing your soft moans to stay muffled between his lips. brushing his tongue against yours as he fell deeper and deeper into the spell of pure intoxication of your love.

he guided his length to your core, leaking tip brushing along your soaked folds which made you whimper into his mouth before he pushed himself in. thrusting his hips to fill you up completely and relishing in your pleasured moan. he so good inside of you. so big and perfect, stretching you out so nicely the burn of it alone made you see stars across your vision.

he kept his arms around your head, caging you under his body while your nails dug into his muscles. resorting to sucking on your bottom lip only and reveling in the sugary sweet taste of blood that coated his tongue. the taste only making his hardened length twitch inside of your leaking walls. the more he tasted you the more he craved you in every way.

“feel so good wrapped around me baby.. your pussy is milking me so well.” he praised as he spoke between kisses, his thrusts slow yet so powerful. filling you up to the brim, pressing against your cervix in a way that made your toes curl before pulling back. you were on cloud nine.

you felt the air around you shift the moment you felt the familiar tightening of the coil in your abdomen, your climax approaching as your senses suddenly heightened more. jungwon took notice of your incessant tightening, the way your hands brushed through his soft hair and pulled gently while you whimpered and mewled his name out so desperately. both of you were floating to a different dimension, wrapped up in complete and utter euphoria that the only thing your clouded senses and awareness were able to pick up were the approach of your releases.

jungwon felt an animalistic urge clawing its way through his chest, a primal need to fuck and stuff you full of him when his own abdomen tightened. picking up the pace as his muscular hands wrapped around your thighs while his hips began to piston against yours, he breathing was laboured, panting as his eyes rolled to the back of his head the further you sucked him in.

your fingers began to grip against the sheets. searching for anything to ground yourself with as your body arched against his own, your chest pressing against his. the air feeling electric and steamy as both of your bodies buzzed in overstimulation over complete euphoria.

“i’m so close, baby.” you choked out, throwing your head back against the satin pillowcase and exposing the skin of your neck to jungwon’s eyes. he felt feral.

like a carnal impulse controlling his body as its puppet. jungwon instantly sank his teeth down your veins. relishing in the sob that escaped your throat while crystal tears ran down your cheeks. the pleasure so overwhelming and uncontrollable your body shook in overstimulation as your orgasm washed over you. leaving you to twitch under jungwon’s possessive hold.

“just like that pretty.. cream all over my cock.” he spoke with his words slurred, almost choking on your blood as he sucked more and more. pure ecstasy rushing throughout his body as it burned with passion. he felt like the pleasure was almost too much to keep up with. he whispered sweet nothings to your skin while your ears rang in hot white pleasure that descended down your body in brutal waves.

the combination of his bite and cock so deep inside of you sent you into a frenzy. your body felt scorched. completely ablaze as jungwon fucked you through your pleasured climax, blurring the lines between your release and overstimulation.

your head continued to spin as jungwon’s venom spread throughout your body. his venom so intoxicating and potent. you felt exhilarated in deep pleasure and passion that only your lover provided you.

as he kept fucking you into subspace, you slowly lost touch with reality. the only thing processing in your dizzied mind was the raging sense of ecstasy. unable to pick up jungwon’s reassuring words as he pulled away and sealed his marks on your neck. his cock pressed snug against your cervix while he kissed the two deep bites that portrayed his claim on you.

“feeling good, princess?” his voice sounded muffled for you. barely able to reach your puddle of a brain. yet you could only nod as your eyes remained closed, pretty lips parted allowing soft pants of air out while heavy tears hung from your lashes. he kissed both of your cheeks lovingly, leaving behind a slight smear of your blood on your skin before he began to slowly roll in his hips against yours. chasing his own release by using your body.

jungwon threw his head back as your cunt sucked him in greedily. closing his eyes to revel in the pure, breathtaking pleasure that ran along his veins along with the feeling of your blood rushing through his body. he felt so ridiculously great. living through a high that only your body and blood could supply him. and he was so fucking addicted.

he lowered his head to commit the mistake of looking at your connection point, the sight of his pulsing red cock disappearing into your dripping cunt made his shallow breath hitch. the white ring of your arousal circling his cock made him tighten his hold on your thighs. sharp nails burying themselves onto your skin to leave behind small crescent shapes, serving as reminders of jungwon’s devotion to you.

the louder the filthy wet noises became in the room, the closer jungwon felt his release. the nasty sounds combined with your mixed moans of pleasure driving him absolutely crazy. everything felt so lewd. so erotic. and so stimulating to him. only you were able to make his head spin and pound in delirium as sweat rolled down his burning body.

he continued to thrust so deeply inside of you. keeping his leaking tip pressed against your cervix for longer periods as he felt his body tightening up aggressively. his orgasm a mere seconds away from washing down on him while he wrapped your legs around him and lifted your arms above you.

he pressed his forehead against yours as he thrusted in an animalistic pace. his heavy breathing combining with your own making you breath each other’s air as he chased his release. all the noises, the sensations, everything became so much more intense while he practically molded your cunt into his shape.

fresh tears rolled down your cheeks as jungwon unknowingly fucked you through orgasm after orgasm. coaxing a new one out with every few thrusts as your legs weakly trembled around his waist. your eyes rolling to the back of your head when jungwon began to mindlessly lick against your skin.

“i’m cumming, doll— shit. gonna fill you up, yeah? you gonna like that?” he moaned against your jaw as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. the mere thought of breeding you triggering his release that made his body freeze, still buried so deep inside of you while he filled you up completely. the feeling of his warm cum inside of you pulled out another orgasm from you as you convulsed under him. clawing at his body desperately when you felt yourself a few seconds away from passing out.

“fuck.. princess…” he gasped, opening his eyes and lifting his head to take in the sight of your fucked our body, quickly pulling out, “baby..?” he whispered softly, his hands leaving your wrists to gently cradle your face, a feeling of relief washing down on him when you leaned into his touch even in this state.

“you feeling alright, doll?” he smiled when you slightly nodded, deciding it’s best to clean you up and get you tucked in his embrace as soon as possible. “i’ll get you a cloth and clean you up, then we can go to sleep yeah?” he spoke, his eyes lighting up in adoration when you hummed softly before detaching his sore body from your own and disappearing into the bathroom.

and a few more minutes, whines from you and chuckles from jungwon later, you were safe in his embrace to rest for as long as you wanted while jungwon laid besides you, a hefty amount of blood bags and other vampire-friendly snacks situated on his bedside table for his own feeding as he knew the moment you wake up, you’ll be tremendously hungry, and he was excited to offer his neck to your aching fangs.

and maybe it was his jealousy, but he really didn’t want you to touch any blood bags.

his blood should suffice for now.

a,note. hope u enjoyed ♡ !!

1K notes · View notes

yutarot · 3 months ago

Text

cozy. n.jm

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ childhood bff!jaemin, snowboarding au, fwb, sfw

synopsis. you and jaemin have been inseparable since you were children. when you and a few of your friends go on your annual mountain ski trip, the air grows tense when they find out that you and jaemin have been sleeping together. so what happens when an overnight snowstorm extends your trip, bringing a sudden change of plans and a very unlikely guest to your vacation: jaemins crush. will your friendship survive within the cold presence of snow or will it melt away once the sun rises.

wc: 6.8k

warnings. implied sex, suggestive, language, jaemin sucks, miscommunication (sorry), yn is wayy too nice in this

notes — ty to the anon who gave me this idea hehe i immeeediately thought of jaemin so i had to write it. i hope u enjoy this it was fun to write (also ended up being way longer than i expected butttt oh well)

the trip started 4 days ago.

you always loved your winter ski trips. you loved the way the snow glistened under the sun, illuminating the sky line in a crisp peach orange. you loved the way you could become carefree, no worries of college or having to pick up extra shifts at the cafe. it was always perfect, a spirited culmination of a frosty vacation.

like usual, you unpacked at lightning speed, occupying the room directly between jaemin and jisung and opposite chenle. as kids, you and mark used to argue over who got the room that you stay in, it being the only room in the cabin with a double bed, but after many years of relentless fighting, you always managed to beat him.

the five of you have been friends since before you could remember, constant pranks and silliness as kids soon became reliability and comfort as you grow into your late teens. but now that you all attend college together, you’re closer than ever.

admittedly, you’ve always been closer to jaemin than the rest, your childhood homes being next to each other, serving as a reason for you to play out in the street each evening after school. even as you entered high school and eventually college, you stayed close, despite jaemin’s tendencies to sleep around with girls and eventually ghost them soon after.

you would be mad at jaemin’s exploits, but you can’t exactly say that being mad at someone’s past actions is entirely justifiable, especially since his playboy behaviour has recently become less frequent.

the air in the cabin is surprisingly warm, a crisp layer of frost encasing the windows and blocking the breeze of snow as it falls upon the mountain that the cabin rests between. the sky, once blue, is now an iridescent hue of orange, reflecting off the snow on the ground and pulsing through the window and onto the wooden walls around you, making them glow. it is an utterly beautiful place, and you thank chenle’s parents for letting you stay here each winter unsupervised.

as you walk through the walkway and into the main room, you spot chenle upon the sofa, browsing the old vintage tv for any channels that don’t bore him profusely. mark and jaemin are playing a game of chess on the floor, resting themselves upon fluffy white cushions and muttering snarky comments to each other under their breaths. noticing your presence, chenle clears his throat, causing mark to look up at you, and eventually, jaemin to spin his body round in your direction.

“i’m bored.” you say, “that tv looks way too old to function and i don’t know how to play chess.”

chenle speaks first, “well, i mean, maybe if you actually spend some time with us, you might have some fun.”

“sounds like a blast.” you say sarcastically, “i just think we should go out and do something in the snow instead of just being all cooped up in here for the third day in a row.”

“it’s too cold.” jaemin utters, “usually it’s not this bad.”

“and? just put on an extra layer.” you reply, looking to mark for help.

sighing, mark speaks up to agree with you, and with his help, you eventually manage to convince chenle and jaemin to go and wake up jisung, before layering up and grabbing your snowboards from the shed behind the cabin.

as you all walk across the mountain to the ski area, occasionally partaking in a small snowball fight on the way, you hurl yourselves onto the ski lifts.

you sit in between jaemin and mark, ignoring mark’s teasing as you struggle to get yourself seated.

once the lift begins to climb, you feel an immediate sense of calm. you’ve always enjoyed these trips, a moment of relaxation away from home, all with your favourite people. it is true that you wish you could bring your girl friends along, but they all hate the boys with a passion for multiple, various (and valid) reasons, and so, with their permission, you go without them.

lost in your own thoughts, you don’t notice as you suddenly begin to slip from the ski lift, the bar doing absolutely nothing to keep you in place.

“yn?”, you hear jaemin’s voice beside you, a weird sense of distress lining his voice as he quickly grabs a hold of your arm, attempting to lift you back onto the seat.

but it’s no use, the snowboard beneath you weighs you down and you slip from his grasp.

“mark, she’s slipping.” jaemin urges the other boy beside you.

“shit.”

they both try to bring you up, but as you get higher and higher to the top of the slope, the ground begins to find your feet, pulling you down with it.

you stumble before landing upside down into the snow, luckily not sliding anywhere, but unfortunately feeling a sudden frosty chill as piles and piles of snow seep into your clothing and down your back.

noticing your discomfort, jaemin bends down, lifting your face to his and, with a gentle smile, he brushes your snow-covered hair from your face.

“it’s… everywhere.” you shiver.

“everywhere?” jaemin asks.

you roll your eyes. “not the time for jokes.”

it takes you a while to notice mark standing behind jaemin, but when you do, you tell them both to continue on without you and that you’ll find your own way back to the cabin to change your clothes.

nodding after making sure that you’re okay, mark leaves to snowboard down the slope, leaving you and jaemin as you sit, still shaking, covered in ice and snow.

“i’m gonna-“ you say, getting up.

jaemin interrupts. “let me help you.”

“i don’t need help.” you reply.

there is a moment of silence before jaemin speaks again, as if he is choosing his words carefully.

“i know a better way to warm you up.”

your face lines in an expression of shock.

“we promised we wouldn’t do it here.” you say, “what if one of the others see something?”

“they won’t.” he smiles at you before pointing in the direction of the others, all enjoying themselves drifting down the snow, swerving in all kinds of directions.

it doesn’t take much for you to give in. so when you get back to the cabin, eventually changing into some fresh clothes that will eventually be pointless, jaemin turns out to be right.

he does know a way to warm you up.

his request didn’t surprise you, and you’re unsure if the others finding out that you and jaemin have been secretly hooking up for the past year is an all too bad thing. but at the thought of them having a little bit too much fun potentially teasing you both, you decided to keep it on the down-low.

it was never supposed to happen; you and jaemin are best friends. but after jaemin’s vow to stop playing with girls’ hearts and your fresh break up with your ex, you both decided that the logical thing to do is to use each other when you need it. it was simple.

over the past year, you have established 3 main rules for your ‘friends with benefits’ situation. number 1: you and jaemin can both sleep with other people if you so wish, number 2: no feelings are involved, if one person begins to feel anything for the other, then you must break it off. (this one isn’t and never will be a problem for you two, but you need to add it there anyway; you’ve heard the stories about jaemin the ‘serial heartbreaker’, and you definitely don’t want to be a victim of that) and number 3: no sleeping together during the winter ski trip. right now, you are breaking a rule, and neither you, nor jaemin, seem to care. it does scare you a little, however, considering how easily jaemin was willing to break it, and it has you wondering how strong the other rules even are.

after cleaning yourself up, you make your way to the kitchen to make yourself and jaemin a hot chocolate, sprinkling far too much powdered chocolate on the whipped cream and having to clear up all your mess soon after. jaemin follows you into the kitchen, pulling his shirt back over his head.

“can i ask you something?” jaemin says, reaching his arm past you to scoop his finger into the whipped cream and swiping it onto your nose. you push him away, watching as he giggles at you frantically wiping the cream off your nose in annoyance.

“sure.” you reply, and he leans on the counter beside you.

“when was the last time you slept with someone else?”

if you say the question doesn’t surprise you, you’d be lying. jaemin knows you can sleep with other people, it’s part of your rules. so why do you feel as though you’re in trouble?

“last saturday. that party on joomi’s street. eric sohn.”

jaemin’s face is unreadable. you continue, “if you’re worried you have competition, i wouldn’t worry. it was just one night.” you laugh.

“oh, i’m not worried.” he replies, “especially after the way you were saying my name back in there.”

his head tilts to the side to point in the direction of your room and you look over on instinct, memories of the past 30 minutes flashing in your mind and causing you to forget what you were even about to say.

but when you look over to the doorway, something else catches your attention.

or someone else.

standing at the front door, snowboard in hand and ski mask pulled down to his chin, stands a mortified, and astonished mark lee.

you freeze up, and no longer from the cold chill of snow.

he has heard everything.

you’re completely fucked.

❆ ❆ ❆

pacing around the kitchen and watching as mark looks between you both, you begin to attempt to redeem yourself.

“look, mark, that wasn’t what it sounded like, me and jaemin would never.”

mark looks at you, skeptical, before turning his attention to jaemin, who stands in the back corner of the kitchen, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed as if none of this is bothering him.

mark looks back at you. “yoooo, i mean, i guess i always knew there was something off about you guys.”

you rush towards him, clutching his shoulders. “i promise you, mark, it’s not like that-”

“we’re fucking.” jaemin finally speaks, and yours and mark’s heads both whip towards him in shock. jaemin shrugs, as if it isn’t a big deal.

“jaemin.” you say sternly, “what are you doin-”

“what? he caught us, there’s no point in denying it.”

“this is unbelievable.” mark chuckles, “i gotta go tell the others.”

“no you don’t.” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm.

he rolls his eyes. “alright, but at least give me details, man. how long? when did it start? why?”

you look to jaemin, not wanting to answer for yourself.

“about a year,” he says, “and why not?”

“why not?!” mark exclaims in disbelief, “i don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re best friends? what if you end up catching-”

“not gonna happen.” says jaemin, “we dont see eachother like that, never will.”

mark only continues to laugh, “this is nuts. you guys haven’t been doing it all weekend, have you? i don’t think i wanna hear it if you guys end up getting busy while we’re all meant to be asleep.”

“nope,” you reply. “this is the first and only time we’ve done it here. we sort of made it a rule so that this wouldn’t happen.”

before you can finish your conversation, chenle walks through the door. “so what wouldn’t happen?” he says, scanning his eyes between yours and jaemin’s lack of outdoor wear compared to mark’s.

“nothing.” you reply.

“nothing?” he asks, studying mark and jaemin’s expressions.

there is a second where no one speaks, but that seems to be enough for chenle, because the next thing he says is: “you guys fucked, didn’t you?”

mark can’t keep in his smile as he tries not to laugh and give it away, but jaemin’s stern expression speaks volumes.

chenle shrugs before taking off his coat and making his way to the fridge, “ehh, was sort of obvious anyways.”

“what?” you exclaim, “how?”

his eyebrow raises as he takes a bite of the donut he had taken out its packet, “jaemin swearing off girls the same time as you breaking up with your ex, you constantly ditching our movie nights to ‘hang out with your cat,’ and jaemin suddenly changing from being an insufferable prick to actually being half nice.” jaemin lets out a laugh at the last comment. “i have more if you want me to continu-“

“thats okay, no thank you,” you speak up, “first of all, jaemin is still an insufferable prick.”

“thanks.” jaemin butts in.

“no problem.” you turn your head to him quickly before you continue, causing the others to laugh. “and secondly, i do actually go to hang out with my cat. i love her.” you say, offended.

“whatever.” chenle replies, a judging expression on his face.

they both took the news a lot better than you thought, so you decide to let them tell jisung, who is undoubtedly the most surprised at the revelation. but jaemin’s silence throughout the whole conversation annoys you. you don’t understand why he was being so quiet about it. but when you hear mark and jaemin whispering amongst themselves while you were meant to be in the shower, your confusion peaked.

“this isn’t like you, man.” it sounded like mark’s voice.

“i know.” jaemin replied.

that’s all you heard.

for the rest of the night, you all wrap yourselves in blankets on the sofa to watch some movie that jisung wanted to watch, the fireplace emitting a radial heat and deep hue of ember, softening you into a state of tiredness, drifting off as your head rests on the hard sofa next to you.

it’s only after you wake up that you realize it is certainly not the sofa that you were lying against, but instead, jaemin’s shoulder.

you hear the melodic birdsong as it fills the air outside, the white of snow lighting up the room. or is it chenle’s hideous singing in the shower that you hear? it’s hard to tell.

breaking yourself from jaemins sleeping grasp, you get up to look out the window. you’re meant to go home today, this is supposed to be your final morning of the trip.

but as you peek your vision out the window, around 3 feet of snow covers the floor all around the cabin, the four wheels of marks camper van not even visible.

“uhm, guys..” you call out, grabbing the attention of a freshly showered chenle, a mid breakfast-making mark, a book occupied jisung and a half asleep jaemin. they all stop their various activities at the urgency in your voice, coming over to you and looking out the window for themselves.

it takes each of them about 5 minutes to process what this means; your trip is going to be extended. you are trapped.

and you may be trapped but yours and jaemins secret is very much free.

it finally hits 3pm and you realise that you have all spent the entire day enveloped in boredom, watching as the snow falls and continues to form on the ground. there is no way all this snow will clear in just a few days.

you are lucky that chenle had brought nearly double the amount of food that you needed originally, meaning all you had to do now was to sit and wait it out.

lounging on the sofa, you listen to the smooth rhythm of chenles jazz vinyl playing on loop across the room. you’re bored, and you can’t even go outside. you can tell the others are bored too, that same expression of ‘i just want to go home now.’ plastered on all of their faces.

but their expressions quickly flip when a knock rattles from the front door.

you all look at each other in question before collectively jumping up in sync, running at inhuman speeds to the door. you were about to be saved, removed from the shackles of dullness and provided passage back home.

being the first to get to the door, you grab a hold of the handle, struggling in attempts to only slightly crack it open to keep the snow outside.

but when you open the door and poke your head through the crack, you’re met with a very familiar face.

hayun. also known as, jaemins long-time ‘secret’ infatuation: his crush.

your mind shatters in disbelief as you pull the door fully open to let the other guys see who it is, no longer caring about the snow as it comes piling in.

all because the look on jaemins face is priceless.

the others all look to him to see what he’s going to say, and unsurprisingly, all he has to say is ‘hi.’ you wouldn’t expect more from him, he’s never spoken a word that exceeds a greeting to her before.

following jaemins poor attempt at an introduction, you take over.

“what are you doing here? are you okay?” you ask, genuine concern for the girl lining your voice.

“well, i was here on a ski trip with my friends but, they all abandoned me.”

“what?” you ask.

“and i remembered seeing a few of your guys’ instagram posts saying you were here so… i thought i’d knock.”

“wow.” mark says, “your friends suck.”

“i know. so, any chance i can stay here? i would go home but the weather isn’t exactly drivable.”

you turn to the rest of your group, concluding the pity in their faces before turning back to hayun. “of course! we don’t have a spare room and the sofa gets cold at night but i have a double bed if you don’t mind sharing.”

“thank you so much!” she grins before stepping inside and pulling you in for a hug. you cringe as you come into contact with the cold casing of her coat, the ice cool against your skin as you try not to push her off of you.

in all honesty, you feel bad for her and you know that jaemin is about to get relentlessly bullied by the rest of the group. this was about to make your extended trip a whole lot more interesting.

it hasn’t been a long time since he developed a crush on hayun, spotting her across the other side of his lecture hall. he always gives you some excuse as to why he’s somehow never gotten a chance to speak to her, so you presume that he’s happy that he finally has. either that or completely terrified. either way, you’re happy for him.

yes, you are. you’re happy for him.

❆ ❆ ❆

a few hours pass as you show hayun around the cabin, making space for her things in your room. letting her unpack, you make your way to the front room, finding jaemin and mark on the sofa, seemingly midway through a conversation.

“oh, don’t let me stop you.” you say, urging them to continue their talk after they cease talking at your arrival.

mark turns back to jaemin. “i think you should go for it, dude, what harm could come out of it, huh?” he says.

you’re curious, “you’re gonna ask her out?” you say to jaemin.

he smirks, “maybe, maybe not.”

somehow, something in your heart doesn’t like the idea of jaemin asking out hayun. you’re not sure if it’s the idea of you and him ending this whole ‘friends with benefits’ situation, or the fact that you’re probably going to have to step back from being his best friend, because, let’s face it, there’s no way she would ever let you stay as close as you now are if they got together.

you slap the idea out of your head; he hasn’t even asked her out yet.

mark notices the internal battle you have with yourself. “something wrong with that, yn?”

if jaemin wasn’t here right now, blocking you from mark by sitting in between you, you one hundred percent would have punched him at that.

jaemin looks over to you, a questioning expression on his face.

“uh.. no…” you reply, apprehensive.

“oh come on, i saw the face you just made. you’re jealous that he’s gonna be fucking someone else, aren’t you?” mark continues.

you don’t know what to say, caught off guard by the truth in marks words and the cold presence of jaemins gaze on you.

“im not jel- “ you begin, but jaemin interrupts you.

“yn.” he says. it’s just your name but it holds so much meaning. “am i not allowed to have a girlfriend?”

“‘course you can.” you reply, shrugging.

mark raises his eyebrow at you and you seriously consider getting up and kicking him.

jaemin continues, “good. it's decided then. i'm gonna ask her out.”

mark pats him on the back, laughing, “good luck, dude.”

you smile in acknowledgement as jaemin thanks mark before chenle comes in, completely changing the subject when he starts complaining about hayun’s infiltration of his ‘well organised fridge.’

you zone out their conversation to reassure yourself that you truly don't care that jaemin was going to try to get close to hayun, but you can't help but feel like you're about to be replaced. you always knew it was going to happen, that one day jaemin would want to settle down with a girl. but you're just so used to his playboy personality that you just never expected it to be so soon.

amongst the endless drill of chatter, you feel a sudden glance in your direction, and as you look up, jaemins eyes suddenly divert away from you, as if he got caught looking. you want to ask him what he wants, but the silence in his demeanour tells you that you shouldn't. it's bittersweet; the end of his situation with you, marks the start of one with hayun. its a trade in which you don't want to be part of, but you fear you have no choice – only time can decide.

the rest of the day went by quickly. maybe it was because of your new addition to the vacation or simply because chenle found a cupboard full of dusty boardgames that you decided to occupy yourselves with. naturally, it was you and mark that beat everyone else at your very long, grueling game of monopoly, but that quickly flipped to jisung when you took your turns at scrabble.

the entire time, you and mark teased jaemin relentlessly, catching glimpses as he (unwilling) took his seat next to hayun, pushed there by chenle and jisung and ending up on her team. you could tell that he was getting annoyed at you both giggling at him, but you didn't care; it only made the entire thing so much more fun.

by the end of the night, it was time to sleep, so you and hayun took your rightful sides of the bed. it isn't the best sleeping situation, but you’d much rather sleep beside her than have to experience mark’s sweaty feet ever again. (that experience was not one that you want to remember.)

before you can switch the light off, though, you hear hayun sit up.

“wait, yn, before we sleep…” she says, and you look at her expectantly, “can i ask you something?”

“sure.” you reply.

she looks down, fiddling with her fingers. “Its jaemin. is he.. single?”

as if you hadn't heard her, you take a pause, processing her question.

“yeah.” you let a laugh slip, “why? you like him?”

at your question, she giggles and her voice makes you cringe a little.

“yes. a lot actually, it's sort of the reason why im here..”

you furrow your brow. “what do you mean?”

she takes a deep breath. “my friends never kicked me out.. i just saw that you guys were also here and, well, i thought it'd be a chance for me to get to know him.”

it's as if your ears are deceiving you, the late night tiredness of the conversation urging you to hallucinate. but it's all real, every last word of it.

“wait, so, you lied?.. to get us to let you stay?”

she nods, and you don't know if you should pity her or hate her guts.

because you know what it's like to be in love; you know what it's like to like someone so much to the point where you allow yourself to do stupid things. you understand.

but that doesnt mean that you like her for it.

“i know you probably think i'm a horrible person.” she says.

“no.. no, not at all.” you reply, and she smiles at your words.

“thanks yn.”

you laugh back, “so, jaemin huh?”

she looks back down at her fingers, “yeah.. embarrassing right?”

you smile, not just to her, but to yourself.

“totally.”

❆ ❆ ❆

all night, you debate with yourself over what hayun had told you. on one hand, you can't agree with what she did: lying like that. but her crush on him means that jaemin would be happy, and as his best friend, you can't take that away from him. therefore, amongst your deep pool of thought, her confession swimming in the depths of your mind, you decide that the best thing for you to do, is to hold off telling him that she lied; not only would it ruin their chances of getting together, but therefore, jaemin would only be upset that he never got the chance.

but just because you can't tell jaemin, doesn't mean you can't tell mark.

“i really don't know what to think about her.” you say, standing in the kitchen over three pans of eggs. mark had asked you to have the task of cooking them, resorting to focus on the rest of the group's breakfast. you know it's because he can't cook eggs to save his life, but he'll never admit that.

“honestly,” he replies, “who cares if she likes jaemin? she’s a sneaky little liar.”

you laugh, “i don't know, mark. maybe she's just really in love with him.”

“i’m not so sure about that. how could anyone ever be in love with someone who wears a hoodie saying ‘orgasm donor’ in public.”

you roll your eyes and mark continues, “well, i guess we all know who he's donating to now..”

you slap him around the arm, causing him to cackle at your rash response.

“anyways,’ he continues, “i wont tell jaemin about it if you don't want me to.”

you nod, “thanks, mark. oh, and you're burning the bacon by the way.”

“oh shit.”

❆ ❆ ❆

deciding that the weather still wasnt good enough to attempt to make the journey home, you all decided to stay another day. although the day was full of indiscriminate party games and full fledged boredom, you somehow managed to make it through to nightfall.

you’re nearly drifting off to sleep when you hear a tap at the door of your’s and hayun’s room. turning over to see hayun fast asleep, you get up to see who’s there, wondering what idiot buffoon decided to wake you up at 4 o’clock in the morning.

by means of absolutely no surprise, it’s a disheveled jaemin, hair sticking up in about seven different directions and a crumpled tshirt that rises ever so slightly above his pyjama pants waistline, exposing skin that you do not have the energy to be fawning over. although, that’s exactly what you’re doing.

assuming that he’s here to finally break the news to hayun in some twisted, sensual late night confession, you turn your back to jaemin to call her name. in noticing what you’re about to do, jaemin reaches an arm around your waist, pulling you close enough to him that the palm of his other hand can cover your mouth.

“will you shut up?” you don't need to see his face to know he's rolling his eyes, “this isn't exactly something i want her to see.”

oh.

he lets go of you, spinning you round to face him by your shoulders. he’s done this before: knocking on your door in the dead of night when he needs you. but you never expected him to do it here. not after your conversation with mark a few days ago, and certainly not whilst his crush was staying in your room. it all seems so bizarre.

but you weren't going to say no.

❆ ❆ ❆

the next morning, you realise that you had completely and utterly fucked up.

the warmth of jaemin next to you remains, his arm slung lazily over the front of your stomach. you expect to open your eyes to jaemins ceiling back at home, but to much avail, you are very much still on vacation.

and you had four pairs of eyes staring down on you both to prove that.

you jump out of jaemin’s hold immediately, causing him to slowly stir before mumbling something incoherent into the sheets. when he finally realises the situation you’re in, he takes the pillow beside his head, pushing it into his face.

“you promised you wouldn't do it here, man.” mark starts. but your focus isn't on him, it's on hayun.

and she's livid.

you turn the attention of your words to her. “im sorry. i should have told you.”

jaemin finally gets up, picking up his discarded shirt off the ground and pulling it over his head before sitting back on the end of the bed.

hayun eyes him for any form of an apologetic sense, but he gives off nothing, and you fear this only makes her angrier.

your fear is proven correct when she suddenly snaps at you, “you knew i liked him and you still went and did this behind my back?”

at her words, the mood in the room suddenly shifts. what was an atmosphere of laughter and mischief at them catching you and jaemin together, is now suddenly a room of tension, a room that you no longer want to be in.

but it's jaemins reaction that formulates the world's most unfortunate predicament.

his head turns to you, a look of disappointment and what seems to be hurt, plastered on his face. “she likes me? and you hid it from me?”

you don't know what else to say, so you just tell him the truth. “yes, but it's not that simpl-”

“i don't care, yn.” he gets up, pushing past chenle to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him.

fuck. you’ve messed up.

but one thing is nagging at you: jaemin seems to care far more about the fact that you hid the truth from him than what the truth actually entailed. you tell yourself he’s probably just embarrassed. either that or just completely and utterly in denial about it. either way, he’s acting strange; he should be happy, not angry.

the entire day, jaemin didn’t utter a single word to you. as for hayun, she had been hidden away in your room, not speaking to a single person and avoiding any opportunity to accidentally bump into you. you did feel bad, you should have told her about it the second that she confessed her feelings for jaemin to you. but you had assumed from jaemin’s previous conversation with you, that you were calling it off, jaemin seeming pretty aware about the fact that she was now here. how were you supposed to predict him rocking up to your room at 4am?

anyhow, you spent the day with mark, discussing the ending of titanic and eating way too much chocolate to be healthy. when night came once more, you decided that it probably wasn't the best idea to go back to your room, scared about facing the wrath of the girl who resided in it. instead, after washing up in the bathroom, you make your way to the sofa in the front room.

your actions are halted when you hear voices coming from the other side of jaemin’s door. you know you shouldn't eavesdrop on a private conversation, but you can’t help yourself.

you register the second voice as mark as you get close enough to hear them clearer, just enough until you can hear what they're saying.

your heart hurts in your chest when you do.

“i'm still going to ask her out, even with things the way they are.” you hear jaemin whisper.

it's like a sudden shot to the chest. this is exactly what you feared from the very beginning, this is exactly what you trusted jaemin enough not to do.

he’s choosing her over his best friend; he’s choosing her over you.

trying to remain as quiet as possible, you continue your journey to the sofa, pain causing you to wince with every footstep – he's leaving you behind.

as you lie on the sofa, the chill air of the cabin surrounding you despite the presence of the fireplace, forcing you to wrap the blanket around you tighter, you struggle to bring yourself to sleep. but when you hear footsteps from the kitchen, you peek your head over the back of the sofa to see who’s there.

at your movement, the culprit looks up from their snack-making and their eyes meet yours.

“jaemin?” you whisper, “why are you awake?”

“hungry.” he turns back, working on spreading the peanut butter onto his bagel. “what are you doing sleeping out here? it's way too cold.”

you stand up, making your way to the kitchen to stand behind him, blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you shiver from the frost. “i don’t think hayun likes me right now.” you say.

jaemin turns to face you, biting into his bagel. “i wonder why.” he says sarcastically, mouth half-full. you hate to admit it, but he looks incredibly alluring, he always does in the middle of the night.

you hate the fact that he’s acting this way with you, dismissive and persistent, but he has every right, you hid so much from him, and you hurt him in the process.

you’re at war with yourself, but in all honesty you know that you were in the wrong; for your friendship to work, you need to tell him everything. everything.

“actually,” you start, taking a deep breath, “there’s something you don't know.”

jaemin’s interest in the conversation suddenly spikes, looking for you to continue.

“hayun… she.. wasn’t actually abandoned by her friends.”

“what?”

“the night she told me she liked you, she also told me that she ditched her friends because she saw that we were here. she lied about them kicking her out so that we would feel bad and let her stay, so that then she could finally get her chance to talk to you.” you pause, attempting to read jaemin’s face but failing, getting nothing from his expression. “i should have told you, but i didn't want you to get hurt. instead… i did exactly that. i'm sorry, jaemin, really.”

when you finish speaking, you notice as jaemin’s lips slightly curl into a smile before dropping back to his cold demeanor, and it makes you question whether you really saw it or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you.

“yn..” he trails off, whatever he wants to say interrupted by your sudden panic in not wanting to embarrassing yourself.

you ramble, scared that he won't accept your apology. “but like you said to mark earlier, if you still want to ask her out, that's fin-”

“wait, what?” jaemin says, moving from his position leaning against the counter to stand upright.

“i, um, heard you and mark talking earlier about how you were still going to ask her out despite everything..” you say.

jaemin laughs to himself and you grow confused. “oh, yn.” he says.

“what? what’s so funny?”

“you never did get my hints, did you.”

your heart freezes in your throat, the cold weather no longer chilling you but instead the bitter taste of jaemin’s words as they formulate in your brain.

he continues, noticing your confusion. “it was never her that i had a crush on. it was never her that i was planning to ask out.”

you’re struggling to breath, each intake of oxygen getting caught in your chest.

“yeah, i thought she was kinda pretty when i first saw her across my lecture a few months ago, but that was long before i fell for who i really wanted.” he smiles, inching closer to you. “and after everyone found out that i was sleeping with you, i decided that there was no longer an excuse for me to hide my feelings.” he takes a hold of your hand, looking down at it as he plays with your fingers. “i was starting to get pretty pissed that you wouldn’t pick up any of my hints, you know? you can’t even imagine how embarrassed i was to find out that it was because you were trying to play cupid for me and someone else.”

your mind is vacant, filled with the epiphany of his words as they resonate in your head, playing a tune of melancholic rhythm as it twists into an allegro.

“but… the rule.” you say.

jaemin chuckles, “i think we stopped caring about those rules a while ago, yn. i know i did. ”

you’re no longer cold, jaemins warmth radiating against you like the blissful aura of a flame, attracting you and drawing you closer.

it was then that you realised that you haven't said anything to equate his long speech, but words can do nothing to describe the way that you’re feeling. its as if someone had approached you with a mirror, brutally displaying each of your own hidden thoughts and projecting them back at you. because every single word that jaemin muttered, you found deep within yourself. it all clicks, perfectly and irrevocably, into place. your jealousy, your embarrassment, your stupidity.

your love.

instead of attempting to sum up all of your feelings into words, you do the one thing that will live up to the emotions that reside within you. taking not a single moment to prepare yourself, you lean closer to him, his eyes finding your lips. you nod, its small but the gesture means so much. it's an agreement, a sealing of mutual understanding. it's slow and it's incredibly gentle as his lips greet yours, soft in a way unlike ever before. kisses between you and jaemin were always the result of lust, of stupidity. but now, it's the result of something far greater.

it’s love.

❆ ❆ ❆

when the sun rises above the horizon, you leap from jaemin’s bed, him giggling at your eagerness.

“oh my god, it's finally clear!!” you yell, waking up each of the boys with your burst of excitement. you could finally go home.

the morning consisted of three major revelations. one: you all contacting hayun’s friends, watching as they dragged her into their car to drive her home. two: discovering that chenle had only showered once throughout the entire vacation (you all started placing bids as to who gets to not sit next to him on the journey back) and three: witnessing the boys’ reactions to your’s and jaemins new secret.

“i knew you’d do it, dude.” mark said, attempting to fist bump jaemin in the most cringe-worthy interaction you’ve ever seen in your life. jisung and chenle however, were completely baffled, and it took about thirty minutes of explaining for them to understand that it was you that jaemin had a crush on, and not hayun. you’re still convinced that jisung doesn't understand.

once you had all packed your things, you grabbed your suitcases, standing in the porch as chenle locked the front door for the final time.

“im going to miss this place.” mark says, exaggerating an act of sadness as he clutches his chest.

“im not,” chenle replies, “i’ve never been so bored in my entire fucking life.”

“it’s been fun.” you say, smiling.

jaemin’s voice comes from next to you. “eh, could have been better.”

you turn to him in offence.

he continues, “i'm just saying, i never got to actually snowboard.”

“are you suggesting what i think you’re suggesting…?” mark replies, looking around the group and meeting similar grins and looks of hopefulness.

jaemin shrugs, “i dont know, am i?”

as if on cue, you all drop your suitcases in the snow, laughter and coils of happiness springing between you as you run to the shed behind the cabin for one last time.

no other winter ski trip ever got near to living up to that one.

not even close.

#nct #nct fanfic #nct dream #jaemin nct #jaemin x reader #nct jaemin #jaemin fanfic #na jaemin #jaemin

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mistymysticalmoon · 4 months ago

Text

Frosty Morning

･ charles leclerc x reader ･

prompt: (fluff) on a snowy monaco morning you and charles enjoy a cozy, sweet moment together, cuddled up with léo and tangled in sheets.

warnings: none

wc: 800

a/n: leave a request inbox is open!

masterlist

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The warm sunlight broke through the curtains, melting away the frost on the window and pulling you from your dreams.

Your eyes flutter open, met with a light snow, a rarity in Monaco, which made it all the more beautiful.

It was finally winter, which meant fuzzy socks, hot chocolate, Christmas, and, best of all, winter break.

After a tough and exciting season, you and Charles could finally have time for yourselves. It had been a year since you'd both said "I do" in the serene south of France, surrounded by all you loved and adored. Your honeymoon had been long and amazing, but right after that, it was back to work for the both of you.

You had both yearned for each other in your time apart and now that you were together you intended to make the most of it.

You softly turned on your back, careful not to wake your sleeping husband, knowing how much he needed this rest. At the end of the bed lay Léo, comfy as ever sprawled out and lightly snoring. You shift, making yourself comfortable to gaze upon Charles’ unconscious face, his hair disheveled and his lips slightly parted.

He looks so peaceful, so perfect. You can't help but reach out, moving a misplaced hair from his eyes.

"Mmm," he stirs, nuzzling his face into his pillow before faintly opening his tired eyes.

"Oh, sorry, love, I didn't mean to wake you," you whisper, feeling guilty for selfishly stealing him from his sleep.

"Morning chérie" he smiles, reaching for your face.

You smile back at him, leaning into his touch and returning the greeting.

"Good morning, how did you sleep?"

"I always sleep beautifully when you're here, mon amour." Charles coos.

"Mmm, is that right?" you tease snuggling up to him.

He nods, chuckling deeply as he wraps his arms tighter around your frame, holding you impossibly close.

"I missed you, so much" you mumble into his chest.

He pulls your face up to his, bringing his lips to yours in a deep, meaningful kiss. You moan into his mouth, your fingers tightening around his bicep to steady yourself.

"Fuck, I missed you, baby, you have no idea," he murmurs against your lips.

"Mmm," you hum in accord, your fingers snaking into his hair, pulling softly just how he likes.

He pulls away only when he feels he needs air, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead and little pecks all over your face. You giggle at the sensation, play fighting him off before returning the gesture, also leaving him in a fit of giggles.

You sigh in contentment, looking over your husband's face, having missed these simple times when it was just you and him in your own little world away from all the racing and media and championship titles.

Just your Charles.

"You're so beautiful, mon cœur," Charles whispers, moving a strand of hair behind your ear. You giggle as you nuzzle your face into the bed, feeling a sudden shyness at his compliment.

"Amour, let me see your face, come here." He pulls your face up to his view, smiling and caressing your cheek and your cuteness.

"Thank you," you whisper, looking down at his chest where your fingers trace imaginary words and shapes.

He smiles at your shyness, finding it endearing. He leaned in to nudge your nose, his hand reaching up to cup your jaw, pulling you in closer, Your eyes fluttered shit as his lips met yours in the softest of kisses, his thumb brushing your cheek as you melted into each other.

It was a simple kiss, but it said so much.

Charles was slow in pulling away, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before you were burying your face in his chest, his arms pulling you in closer. You felt such love and tenderness you could burst, tangled up together with the one you loved in the place you called home.

Suddenly, a quiet yelp was heard in the room, pulling you and Charles from your intimate moment. Looking toward the end of the bed, you see Léo making his way up to the two of you, having become restless and needy. "Good morning, Léo, my love," you coo, beckoning him by patting the space between you and Charles.

Leo excitedly makes his way over, wagging his tail and getting straight to greeting his two favorite humans.

"Vraiment Léo?" Charles exclaims as the puppy licks over his face, causing you to burst into laughter at the adorable scene.

"Someone's excited to see us this morning, aren't you, Léo?" you giggle, petting his small frame as he makes his way over to you, now attacking your face with doggie kisses.

And so you spend the frosty winter morning like that, snuggled up in bed with your two favorite boys, overwhelmed with kisses.

#charles leclerc #formula one #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc fluff #f1 imagine #f1 fic #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot

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cranberrydietcoke · 4 months ago

Text

𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 - 𝘭𝘶𝘪𝘨𝘪 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦

heavily inspired by this post by @subtlehums

content: 18+, lore accurate luigi, cigarettes, mentions of prescription drugs, guns, L word, established relationship, unprotected p in v, riding, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, kinda emo but fluffy but smutty, he’s so tragically beautiful idk i hope this does him justice

wc: 2.1k

a/n: i am a woman possessed. he is all i think about like its bad. shout out the girlies who found my blog thru tiktok comments lmaooo enjoy

psa: he is innocent until proven guilty! this is a fictional, hypothetical situation in which he did do it.

“𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁. 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗱, 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗽𝗼𝗲𝘁𝗿𝘆, 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹 𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿, 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗼𝗺, 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀, 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘀𝗶𝗻. – 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱.” - tweeted by @ pepmangione, may 1st, 2024.

you missed hawaii. that tiny apartment for just the two of you seemed impossibly big now, as you imagined the sunlight weaving in through the windows, casting shadows of waves onto the kitchen tile. you missed that kitchen, sharing coffee in the mornings before work, baking together. you missed the way the island held you both, lush and warm and predictable. the late nights, the conferences, the schedule – it’s funny how everything always seems so simple in hindsight. he had a way of making it clear he knew best, and you’d stopped arguing years ago. so, when he said to pack a bag for the mainland, you didn’t question it. you trusted him with a kind of faith that went deeper than any earthly explanation could offer.

the frosty breeze whips by you as you step out onto the fire escape of the hostel, headlights and billboards illuminating the city below. you could hear luigi’s furious typing from the chair inside over the sound of honking horns and screeching tires, occasionally pausing to reread it back to himself and flip through the starched pages of the book he’d been in for days. the eraser of the pencil he annotated with was gnawed to damn near nothing. the flick of your lighter shook him from his focus, snapping his head to watch as you wrapped yourself in your fur coat and brought a cigarette to your lips with deep red manicured nails.

“that’s gonna kill you, y’know that right?”

and he was right. not that it made a difference. six months ago, the thought of smoking a cigarette would’ve seemed absurd. now, it almost felt inevitable, like the distance between who you were and who you are had blurred and widened into a festering chasm.

and yet, here he was – the one steady thing in your life, lounging in the peeling leather of the black desk chair, eyes meeting yours like nothing else mattered. the air inside was thick, saturated with things unsaid. tomorrow would inevitably come, but that seemed irrelevant compared to the man in front of you. you crouched with bent knees, weight balanced on the balls of your feet as you blew out thick spirals of smoke, teetering on the tip toes of your flats with each gust of wind.

“lu,” you strain through quick puffs, tapping a nail to the lit stick, causing ash to fall through the metal bars that held you up and onto the concrete of the new york sidewalk. “please.” you scoff, lash-lidded gaze lingering over him through the open window, a look that he couldn’t bring himself to argue with. you were the fracture in the foundation of his carefully constructed logic, the one thing he couldn’t solve.

the first time he saw you at some hazy phi psi social in undergrad, something in him just…stopped. a whirlwind of wild dark hair with an unapologetic laugh that was too loud for the space but too beautiful to be mad at. you spoke with precision, arguing like someone who had points to make, yet there was a strange charm about you, an effortless grace. he had to have you. he assumed that bringing you to maryland for holiday break would be overwhelming, that the sheer volume of his family would cause you to tone yourself down. instead, they welcomed you as one of their own, perhaps because your bold opinions and high standards mirrored theirs. but that was a lifetime ago – before the pandemic, the accident, the surgery. before everything splintered into what it is now.

his puffy, purple-ringed and exhausted eyes follow you as you climb back into the warmth, slamming the window shut and shedding your coat. resting his elbows on his knees, he brought his hands to drag down his face with a deep, weary sigh, letting them fall to his denim-clad thighs with a slap. motioning you over to him with a nod of the head.

brass casings littered the floor, the bed a mess of neon monopoly bills - scattered in the dingy sheets like confetti after some great gatsby party. you’d been holed up in that room for a week now, and his restless energy was palpable. it wasn’t like his stress was something you’d never seen before. in fact, it was normal after all these years. but this. this was a different level. completely enrapturing, not only mental, but physical.

you slip off your shoes with a soft thud on the floor. your steps are slow, deliberate, as you meander toward him, eyes heavy with sympathy. three sleepless nights had made his face hollow, and he’d refused every pill you’d offered – hydros, oxys, anything to subside the pain. you stand in front of him, positioned between his spread legs. his hands reach to meet your plush hips, each digit pressing firmly into your skin, grounding himself in your presence.

when al pacino said the eyes never lie, he was completely correct. luigi’s were sullen, dark, angry. pleading for help, for recognition. you lift a hand to cradle his cheek, tracing over the stubble that wasn’t there when you left hawaii. wordlessly, you sink to your knees on the warped wood of the hotel floor, looking up into his big brown eyes. your fingers trace a slow path from the curve of his jaw to the firm plane of his chest, before settling your palm on the denim of his thigh, smoothing it up and down his leg. you tilt your head, letting your temple rest gently against his knee.

“i love you, lu,” you spoke in a near whisper against him, gaze fixed on nothing in particular, thoughts somewhere far away. “i just wish shit was different.”

“i know baby, i know,” he answered without hesitation, cooing down at you and bringing a meticulous hand to brush the mess of hair from your face. “we’ll be back home soon, i jus- i have some stuff to take care of, love, you know that.” his voice softened as he looked down at you, coaxing your glassy eyes up to his steady stare. with a subtle touch, he grabbed your chin between his thumb and index fingers, lifting your face to meet his. only inches way, you felt the heat of his breath on your lips, drinking it in.

“i know this isn’t who you fell in love with, n’ i’m sorry. i-i’m a fucking shell,” he rambled, bobbing his head with each word, eyes darting around each feature on your face.

“this world, me, everything, is a fucking lie.” he spat, “just t-touch me so i know that i’m real.”

his eyes were wide and manic, brow furrowing as if every thought, every word, was a battle being played out behind those unblinking, shifty eyes. your mouth hangs open, and every part of you seems to be falling into him, melting in his touch. your eyes are unfocused and glazed over as they follow his, drunk off the very essence of him.

“fuck me so i know that i’m real. i’ve been dying to know if i am.”

heady puffs of breath fell against your face with each word, his eyes drifting down to your glossy pout. he ran his tongue up the curve of your parted lips, a tiny gasp escaping them, your eyes never leaving his. it was perverted almost, urgent and depraved. without thinking, you curl your tongue out, meeting and circling his without your lips even touching, saliva dripping onto the floor below. his hands grasp at the sides of your head, pulling you in closer as his tongue forces its way past yours, lips crashing together in a heated kiss. he stands you both up with a swift movement, each kiss growing deeper, more consuming, as he guides you backward onto the bed.

you can’t help but whimper into his mouth through the soft, wet smack of your lips that fills the room as he lays you on your back, pinned by the wrist in a pool of pink and orange paper money. hot, hungry kisses trailed down your neck and across your chest, his hands firm as he peeled off your white tank top. your fingers roamed over every inch of him – gripping a handful of curls, your palm finding the small of his neck to pull him closer. softly, your hands slid over the hard lines of his shoulder blades, tracing the muscles beneath his skin. for a split second, it felt like undergrad again – fooling around on that tiny twin bed, stealing kisses between whispered laughs and desperately hoping that none of the boys in the chapter house heard you.

“baby, sit back,” you murmur, craning your neck and biting into your lower lip as he licks spirals into the sensitive skin, sending a chill down your spine. with a smirk, he flips over to settle onto the edge of the bed, fidgeting with the cold metal button of his levi’s and squirming out of them. the print of his length pressed through the thin fabric of his boxers as you hook your fingers in the waistband, tugging them to fall around his ankles. you shimmy out of your leggings and black lace panties, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the hardwood.

letting a stringy drop of spit fall from your lips, you work and twist your hands over him, whimpers and pants making his chest fall and rise, head lolling back as you plant tiny kisses on both thighs. turning around with bent knees, hips between his legs and feet flat on the floor, you sink down onto him inch by inch, whining incoherently as it stretches you out.

his hands on your sides, thumbs running down the valley of your spine, molding you like pottery as he guides you up and down. the tips of your fingers balance on the floor as you gently bounce and roll your hips, stuffing yourself over and over again on his cock.

“f-fuck – mine, all fuckin’ mine,” he spoke breathlessly, watching your drooly hole take him in with little plap plap plap’s, the fat of your ass recoiling as his length disappeared into you. his grip tightened on your sides, and you felt his legs getting wobbly under your stabilizing hand. “my girl, my good fucking girl…” he spoke absently, almost to himself, each syllable dripping with lust. appreciation. worship, even.

“god, fuck – please.” you babble, whipping your hair back to steal a glance at him from over your shoulder – all focused and blissed out, slack-jawed as he groped and pawed at the lower contour of your ass, spreading open the sticky mess and watching with wild, amazed eyes at the way you wet him up.

“what, baby? want it inside? yeah?” he panted out with squeaky desperation, lower stomach tensing and turning as you gripped and slid over him. “wanna get pregnant, huh, the way you’re takin’ it – fuck!”

his thrusts got sloppy, breath hitching in his throat and translating to desperate whines as he pumped you full. even if he didn’t come back tomorrow, if you never saw him alive again, he was determined to leave you with a little permanent piece of him. bringing a strong, warm palm to the small of your lower back to slow down your pace and push you off of him, he fell back onto the bed with a sigh, rattling the bed frame with the impact. ribbons of thick, opalescent seed seeped from your hole, all fucked open and raw.

laying together, swimming in those hotel sheets, the cold touch of fingerprints tracing numbers and letters into your thighs. truly believing you both had nothing to lose, even though that was far from the truth because you had each other. the shrill sound of wind against windows was stomach-churning compared to the familiar crash of the ocean, and you’ve accepted that you’ll probably never see that apartment again. even if you did, it wouldn’t be the same. but, you trusted him. believed in him, his capability, his intelligence. holding onto that tiny sliver of hope that told you everything would be okay, he would be careful, come home unseen and unscathed. those worries were reserved for the future version of you, one that could carry the weight of tomorrow in the daylight. all of it – the pain, the planning, the uncertainty – was beside the point now. all that mattered was the shelter of his lingering touch, quieting the rest of the world, only if for a few more hours.

#luigi mangione x reader #is this problematic idgaf #god i love him so bad #i am luigisexual

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