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#i like this one way more than the last one
soaps-mohawk · 2 days
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 21: Crime and Punishment
Summary: A trip to town to run errands has you questioning everything.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 7,719
Warnings: Ch 21 Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, rough-ish sex, overstimulation, creampie, language, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, Ghost’s emotional constipation, unresolved sexual tension, angst, and of course fluff.
A/N: I don't think I've ever written the word panties as many times as I did here. Again, not much to say about this one, so I hope you enjoy!!
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You stare at your face in the mirror. Wisps of hair stick to your forehead from the sweat starting to bead on your skin, your lips slightly parted as you breathe heavily. Your hands grip the edges of the sink, knuckles white from how hard you’re holding on for dear life. 
Your legs are trembling, quickly turning into jello. You lean forward more, resting your hips against the edge of the sink for stability. Your mouth falls open in a moan as it changes the position of the cock pistoning into you just slightly. 
Soft grunts leave Johnny’s lips as he fucks you in your bathroom, his thrusts urgent and desperate. Five minutes, he had groaned against your lips as he pushed your door open and walked you backwards into your room. 
It’s probably been longer than five minutes, but you’re hardly in the state of mind to care. He’s supposed to be halfway across the base by now, but you’re certain he doesn’t care either. It won’t take the others long to figure out what had made him so late, and you can almost guarantee John will make him pay for choosing to play hooky and having a quickie with you in the bathroom instead of going to training like he’s supposed to. 
One of his hands leaves the vice-like grip he’s had around your hips to slide to the front of your body, his fingers frantically rubbing circles over your clit. Your back arches in pleasure as the sensations become too much, your hips pushing back against his. He’s still dressed, his cargo pants pushed down over his ass just enough to free his cock. Your pants are around your ankles, underwear pushed to the side. Your shirt and bra are pushed up over your chest, your breasts out on display for him. His eyes haven’t left them in the mirror and the way they bounce with every rough thrust of his hips. 
“Jesus christ, yer gonnae kill me.” He groans as your pussy clamps tightly around him. 
He presses his chest to your back, his hand gripping the edge of the sink as you writhe in his arms. His fingers don’t let up on your clit as you cum, your legs trying to clamp around his hand. 
“Johnny!” You squeal as the sensation becomes overwhelming. “Too much!” 
“Ye can take it.” He groans in your ear, his voice breathy and hoarse from pleasure. “Just a little more.” 
All you can do is babble incoherently as he continues to slam his hips into your ass, his breaths heavy in your ear. You can feel the pressure building again despite the burning overstimulation of his fingers on your clit. 
“Please, please, please!” You pant, your head pressing back against his shoulder as you arch further against him. 
“Fucking love this sweet little cunt.” He growls into your ear, his thrusts starting to get sloppy. “So fucking good fer me.” 
You’re cumming again, your knees buckling under you. His arm snakes around your waist, finally moving from your clit to hold you up. He lets out a loud, salacious groan as his hips slam into you one last time. You can feel his cock twitching as he cums, emptying his load inside you. 
His forehead presses against your back for a moment as you both attempt to catch your breaths. Your legs are still trembling as he begins to move, pulling his cock from you before he slides your panties back into place. He drags his hand over your covered folds, groaning quietly. 
“Better keep that in there.” He says, tugging your pants back up, doing the button for you and tugging the zipper back up. “Keep your mind on me the whole day.” 
You moan softly at his words, your pussy clenching out of instinct. He groans as he tucks himself back into his pants, staring down at your tits as you turn to face him. He curses, cupping them in his hands for a moment. 
“Fuck, I have tae go. Price is gonna kick my arse for bein’ late.” He leans down to kiss you, tugging your bra and shirt back down. “See ye at lunch, if I survive the wrath waitin’ fer me.” 
He leaves you there so casually, as if he hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes fucking you relentlessly in your bathroom. Your legs are still trembling as you lean against the sink, your teeth sinking into your lip as Johnny’s cum begins to seep out of you. They’ll know, they’ll know exactly why he’s late with one whiff of his scent. He’ll smell like you, smell like the musky scent of sex and sweat. All hope of blaming it on something else is out the window. 
All you can do is pray John goes easy on him. It’s not like you haven’t made John late before, though usually both of you were late for meals because you decided you needed an appetizer, and it felt unfair to make him walk around half hard. You hope he can have a little sympathy for Johnny. If you’d said no, made him be on time to training, he might not have been able to focus at all. 
You still can’t be sure he’ll be able to focus, though. You’ve probably only succeeded in changing the trajectory of his thoughts. Instead of whistfully picturing himself fucking you, he will be thinking about how he fucked you. 
You wonder how John will punish him for being late and distracted. Pushups? Running? Maybe extra rounds running the obstacle course. Or maybe he’ll save the punishment for later. Maybe he’ll force Johnny to sit there and watch him fuck Johnny’s cum out of you, force Johnny to sit still and not touch himself or you. Maybe he’ll fuck you right over Johnny, your tits bouncing in his face just as he likes, but he’ll be restrained, forced to watch but not to touch. He’ll get all whiny, begging for any mercy as his cock gets all red and swollen, throbbing in time with John’s thrusts. 
Your pussy clenches at the thought, more of Johnny’s release seeping out of you. 
Fuck, you are going to be thinking about him all day. 
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“Took your time, MacTavish.” John says, crossing his arms as the beta Sergeant saunters into the gym.
“Get your dick caught in a door again?” Simon asks, crossing his arms too. 
“More like he got his dick caught in a saucy little omega.” Kyle says, catching the overwhelming scent of sex and strawberries wafting off his fellow beta. 
Simon’s hands clench, his scent thickening just a little, but none of them seem to pick up on it. 
“Well, since you seemed to have more important things to do than your job this morning, you can go first.” John says, nodding to the mat. “Garrick, you’re up too.” 
Kyle makes his way to the middle of the mat, cracking his knuckles. Johnny saunters to the middle of the mat behind him, still riding the high of his quickie before joining them. Your scent is thick on his clothes, wafting into his nose, bringing back mental images of you bent over before him, tits bouncing in the mirror as he drove his hips into your ass over and over. Those sweet cries of pleasure, the way you shoot in his arms making his blood pump in his veins, the satisfaction making his head spin a bit. 
Kyle moves first, hoping to use Johnny’s seemingly distracted state against him. He aims for Johnny’s middle, but Johnny’s ready for it, blocking Kyle from getting his arms around him. 
Johnny uses the advantage, planting his feet firmly as he flips Kyle onto his back, pinning his fellow beta. Kyle yields, Johnny’s shoulder in his stomach not helping the spasm in his diaphragm from how he hit the mat. 
“Bloody hell.” Kyle gasps out, trying to catch his breath. “The fuck was that?”
“Just me beating you. Again.” Johnny smirks. 
“Yeah? Well I still have you beat on the course.” Kyle says, pushing himself up to stand. “Should work on your speed instead of your biceps once in a while.”
“Alright, you two.” Price says, stopping the argument before it becomes something more. “Garrick, get out of there.” He silently motions for Simon to take Kyle’s place. 
Simon moves onto the mat, staring down his beta. It’s not unfamiliar from the first time they ever sparred together. Simon has size and raw power to his advantage, but Johnny is quick on his feet. Johnny takes a defensive stance, planting his feet on the mat. Simon moves quickly, Johnny just barely managing to dodge his first hit. Simon catches Johnny's own swing aimed for his face, wrapping his arms around the beta to try and sweep him off his feet. 
His mistake is taking in a deep breath so close to Johnny's chest. 
The scent of strawberries flows straight into the back of his brain, igniting a fire in his veins. His blood is boiling, his instincts riding high off the scent of omega wafting off of his beta, creating an alluring cocktail that nearly blinds him. 
Simon rams his shoulder into Johnny’s stomach, the air leaving the beta’s lungs in a pained gasp. He flips Johnny onto his back, the back of his head smacking the mat. 
“Christ, I yield.” Johnny gasps, holding up his hands to stop Simon from continuing his assault. 
Simon’s hands are shaking, his breathing ragged. His mind is still reeling from the scent of omega on his beta. He shouldn’t be reacting this way to the scent of an omega he knows well, an omega he recognizes. He had accepted Johnny would want that kind of relationship with the pack omega early on, so why does he feel jealousy burning in the back of his mind. 
He leaves the training room, slamming the door behind him before heading outside, gulping down lungfuls of damp air free from the scent of omega. You weren’t even in the room and yet it was like you were standing before him, taunting him with your sweet scent. He leans against the outside wall of the gym, letting the air clear his head. Had they been alone and not in the middle of the base, he might have pulled off his mask, let the air touch his skin and dry the sweat that has slowly soaked into the fabric. 
He squeezes his eyes shut as the door opens, the gravel crunching under cautious steps. He can feel eyes on him, the prickling of his skin from the harsh, questioning gaze. It’s not the first time he’s found himself under the scrutinizing stare of his pack alpha. He’s used to it, the attention being on him. He's an officer, he's the one being looked to when things go wrong, when important decisions need to be made. He has to be aware, clear-headed, and focused at all times. 
That's the one thing he can't be right now. 
“It will get easier if you just give in.” Price says, leaning against the wall next to him. “I know you want to.” Price cuts him off before he can offer up any argument. “The longer you try to deny it, the worse things will get for you. I don’t want to have to question your ability to be successful in the field.” 
Simon swallows the lump in his throat, his mind reeling. He knows deep down Price is right. The longer he pushes away those thoughts, fights to keep those urges at bay, the more that tight rein on his emotions will slip. His hands clench into fists at his sides, his chest rising as he takes a deep breath. He’s spent decades now mastering control, keeping things buried when he needs to. Then you come along and fuck everything up for him. 
It’s not fair to blame it on you. It’s not your fault. You don’t even know you’re doing it. You’re not even trying. You just exist around him and he's losing control. 
Price can report that to the stupid initiative program. 
“Is this going to become a problem?” Price asks him, giving him a pointed look. 
Simon sucks in another deep breath. Is it going to become a problem? Is he going to let it become a problem? He releases the breath, shaking his head to try and clear it. “No, sir.” 
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“How are you doing?” 
“Better.” You say, stretching your legs out in front of you. “I didn’t have a nightmare last night.” 
“That’s great! Small improvements are still improvements.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down on her notepad. “How are things going with your pack? Have things settled since they returned?” 
You nod. “Yeah. For the most part. There’s still...something lingering.” You chew on your lip nervously. You can’t tell her what it is, the thing that eats you alive daily. She’d have to tell your pack, and then everything would come undone. “I’m worried that any day now they’ll have to leave me again.” 
“You won’t be alone this time, though.” She says, reminding you of what John had done for you. 
“I know, but...what if they don’t come back?” 
“That is an unfortunate reality, a risk you all have to live with. There’s not much that can be changed about that, but I know they’ll do everything in their power to return home to you.” ’ She gives you a soft smile. “They care about you a lot.” 
“But...they're supposed to put their jobs above everything else. That was part of this whole experiment. Their jobs come first, and I come second.” 
“But, Captain Price has already advocated against that by requiring one of them stay behind with you when they get sent out on assignments. That’s not putting their job above you.” 
She’s right. John fighting to make things more comfortable for you was them putting their priority on you and your comfort. Of course, John had told you they had only advocated for it at this point. There was no guarantee those in leadership would approve, that General Shepherd would approve, but he said he’d fight it as hard as he had to. It wasn’t always necessary for all of them to be sent out anyway, so it was more likely there’d be at least one, if not two of them with you most of the time.
“Besides,” Dr. Keller continues. “In my professional opinion, it’s not sustainable to expect them to have an omega in their pack and also expect them to neglect their omega in favor of their jobs. The whole point of the initiative is to see if the assimilation of omegas into military packs will be helpful or a hindrance. There has to be a balance if they want even a chance at this being successful. While their jobs and what they do is important, they can’t expect full dedication to that job while also trying to care for an omega.” 
You’ve never thought about it that way before. They had been so dead set in your briefings about how their jobs were more important than you and how you had to be prepared for anything to happen because their job always comes first. 
“It’s important to keep in mind that you are essentially the trial for this initiative. There’s going to be ups and downs, things they didn’t account for in their planning, if they did any real planning, and things that have to be adjusted as they come up. There’s just some things you can’t properly predict until the trial is taking place.” 
You haven’t really thought about it that way either. You are the first omega involved in this initiative, the trial run, the guinea pig. Is that why General Shepherd came to base and wanted to meet you? Is that why they wanted cameras in your room? To ensure things really were going properly, and everyone was doing what they were supposed to do? That things really are as fine as you, and likely John, have said? 
What if they think things are going badly? What if they think the initiative is a failure? What happens then? What can they really do now that you’ve been claimed and assimilated into the pack? 
“What’s going on in your head?” Dr. Keller asks softly. 
“What if...what’s going to happen if the initiative fails?” You ask. 
Dr. Keller hums, obviously not having expected that question. “Well, I don’t think there’s much they can do. They made it far enough in the planning that they thought it was worth the chance of a live trial with an omega and an established pack. They wouldn’t have taken that risk without the belief that it will be successful.” Dr. Keller crosses her legs, setting her notebook to the side. “If, and it’s a big if, it failed, then there’s not a lot they can do, legally. You’ve been claimed, which legally puts you under Captain Price’s care, and while the military is a grey area when it comes to legality, I doubt they’d run the risk of trying to remove you from the pack at this point.” 
“They’d run the risk of their task force falling apart.” You say, the pieces starting to come together. 
Dr. Keller nods. “Exactly. If your pack is as important as they appear to be, I doubt anyone involved in this would take that risk of losing such valuable soldiers. Forcibly removing you would turn your pack against them in the blink of an eye. All trust they have in their superiors will be turned on its head and destroyed completely. No matter how loyal they are to their jobs, that loyalty will shift very quickly should something happen to you at their hands.” 
You swallow the lump in your throat, your heart rate starting to kick up. So you had made the right choice in keeping General Shepherd’s visit and the cameras a secret. The last thing you want is to ruin their lives over what was probably nothing, over something that would have been inconsequential in the end. Something they possibly know about already. 
That thought lingers constantly in the back of your mind. They know and they’re waiting for you to finally spill and reveal what happened. What happens then? How will they punish you for lying to them, for withholding important information, information that puts not only you, but them at risk as well? Will they ever forgive you for not telling them right away? Could you grovel and plead with excuses of fear and naivety? Could you lie again and claim you were scruffed? John already knows of your nightmares, of your fear. You’d have to think up a reason as to why you lied to him that night too, though. 
Lying will only dig you deeper and deeper into more lies until all their trust in you is broken beyond repair. 
The trust between you will still be broken if you tell them, though. 
“Have you been thinking of this a lot lately?” Dr. Keller asks, pulling you from your thoughts. 
You nod, dropping your gaze to your hands. “I overheard John and Simon talking about it the other night. Simon asked if this was worth it if it failed, and John seemed confident it wouldn’t.” 
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it as many times as I need to.” You lift your gaze to meet Dr. Keller’s. Her face is as serious as her tone. “Your pack isn’t going to let anything happen to you. Pack loyalty to omegas is not something to be tested, especially not a pack as fierce as yours. They’d go to war for you, if they had to. I don’t doubt that one bit.” 
Your brows pull into a frown. “You really think so?” 
She nods. “I know so. You’re very lucky.” 
You are lucky. Things could have been much worse for you. 
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“C’mon kitten,” Johnny says, barging into your room. 
You let out a startled shriek, nearly jumping out of your skin as you clutch your towel desperately around your naked, still slightly damp form. You just got out of the shower not too long ago, and had been deciding on what to wear on the warmest day you’ve experienced since your arrival in England when Johnny barged his way into your room. 
Barged may be a strong word for it. Your door wasn’t even closed all the way. 
Your heart is still thudding in your chest, your breaths slightly heavy as he digs through your closet, picking out clothes for you. “What the hell?” You breathe, adjusting your grip on your towel. “Scared the shit out of me.” 
Johnny turns, giving you a grin. “Sorry, kitten.” His eyes drop to where you’re clutching the towel, and you can practically see the idea flash through his mind, the idea to rip the towel off and lick every last droplet of water off of your body before having his way with you. 
“What’s going on?” You ask, trying to refocus his mind on what he was doing. 
His eyes snap back up to yours, his grin widening. “We’re goin’ on an excursion.” 
“Excursion?” You ask, barely managing to catch the clothes he throws at you and keep your towel up at the same time. 
“Got some errands tae run in town, an’ yer comin’ with us.” He looks you over. “So get your claes on and meet us outside.” 
You blink at him as he leaves your room, not bothering to close the door behind him. You stare down at the clothes in your hands, a t-shirt and the skirt that’s been hanging in your closet that you had yet to even try on. Of course he’d pick something like that for you to wear. You’re tempted to go without underwear, but that’s probably exactly what he wanted. If you were staying in the barracks, then you might have done it, but being out in public you don’t want to risk a stray breeze. The last thing you need is some alpha seeing it as an opportunity and trying something stupid. 
You finish getting ready, drying yourself off and getting dressed before pulling on a pair of comfortable shoes. Your hair is still slightly damp as you make your way out of the barracks, a car pulled up outside as you expected. 
“You promise to drive carefully?” John is saying, holding the keys up in front of Johnny. 
“Of course.” Johnny says, looking past him to grin at you. “There’s precious cargo on board.” 
“I’m putting a lot of trust in you.” John says, giving him a look before dropping the keys into Johnny’s hand. John turns to you, staring down at you for a moment before leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead. “Let me know when you get there.” He murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. 
You nod, leaning up to kiss his cheek before getting into the car. 
You’re surprised to see Simon sitting in the passenger seat. You had expected maybe Kyle would be tagging along, or even John, but this is something entirely unexpected. He’s in his beanie and face mask combo again, the same thing he’d been wearing when he and John took you to town before your heat. 
The night he bought the ingredients to make you enchiladas. 
It still brings a warmth to your chest when you think about it, that he did that for you. It had been his idea to do it, his idea to bring you some comfort during the stress and insecurity your approaching heat had brought on. He does care about you, in his own way. He’s been showing it, at least for the most part, looking back on your interactions with him. 
He has to care about you, if he’s willing to do this. 
It wasn’t his decision, you know that. Johnny was likely forcing him to come along, either to appease John’s concerns, or in case of an incident. Not that Johnny’s not fully capable of handling a situation on his own, but having an alpha at your back makes it less likely someone would try something at all. 
The fact John is trusting them with you speaks volumes of his trust in his pack, in his second alpha. You know they won’t let anything happen to you, they’ll protect you just as fiercely as if you were their omega. 
You could be, if he wanted it. 
You push that thought to the back of your mind as Johnny climbs into the driver's seat, the car rumbling to life.
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Johnny isn’t a terrible driver. Despite the many stories you’ve heard over the last few weeks, you had been expecting worse. Kyle had been right, of course, he takes the speed limit as more of a suggestion, and weaves around on the road, passing slower cars and farm equipment in ways that are probably not legal. Despite that, you’re not gripping the seat in fear or holding on for dear life. You had been expecting much worse when he climbed into the driver’s seat. 
Though, from what you’ve heard, Johnny is the most preferable of the two in the car when it comes to driving. 
The farmlands fade into civilization as the buildings grow closer and closer together. It’s only your fourth trip into town, but yet you’ve already begun to recognize landmarks, businesses. You could navigate if you had to, something you know they’d be proud of. You wonder if Simon would praise you for that, considering how annoyed he always seems to be about how much time you spend lost in your own thoughts. 
Johnny pulls into a parking spot on the street, and you send a quick text to John to let him know you made it in one piece. Johnny opens your door for you, offering you a hand. You take it, letting him help you out before he laces your fingers together, squeezing your hand gently. 
You’re glad you wore comfortable shoes as you walk around with them, picking up a few items from different shops. Johnny keeps hold of your hand, Simon walking behind the two of you like a protective shadow. The people you pass on the street give you a wide berth, and you know it’s Simon’s doing as their eyes skirt past you and Johnny to the big alpha trailing you. You can imagine the silent threat behind his eyes, daring them to even think of trying anything. 
“The last stop.” Johnny says, pausing in front of a familiar storefront. 
You’ve been here before, the day of your first date with John when he’d taken your virginity. The lingerie shop where you’d gotten those lacy panties the guys seemed to admire so much. Your cheeks warm as Johnny opens the door for you, the stark reminder of who you’re with suddenly snapping into your mind. This trip definitely was Johnny’s doing. Did he even know this was a stop that you were going to make? If he did, he probably wouldn’t have come along and talked Kyle into it instead. 
Or maybe he did know and he did want to come along. 
Or, maybe, Johnny pouted at him and begged until he had no choice but to agree. 
The answer is likely the latter. 
 You wonder if he’ll stay outside, or perhaps even return to the car in favor of stepping into a lingerie store. You can’t imagine him inside, the hulking alpha among the delicate lace and fabrics. A bull in a china shop. 
You’re surprised when he enters behind you, looking about as uncomfortable as you expected him to in a place like this. His shoulders are squared, hands opening and closing into fists at his sides. He’s looking everywhere but at what’s on the racks, his gaze flicking around the store instead, taking stock of everyone inside shopping. 
You let Johnny take the lead, Simon keeping his distance as you peruse the racks. You’re not just there to replenish your quickly dwindling stash of lacy underwear, you realize as Johnny begins flipping through items on the racks. He’s got some other ideas for you as well. You can see the wheels turning in his head, the concentration in his eyes as he looks over his options. 
Your face gets warmer and warmer as he holds things up in front of you, studying you and the lingerie. He’s picturing you in it, most likely in lewd positions. You’re close to combusting out of bashfulness, but also from the fire igniting under your veins. You’re trying to keep it under control, trying to keep things as discreet as possible for the sake of the other shoppers in the store. The last thing you want is to draw any unwanted attention and cause a scene. 
“That’s definitely the one.” He says, holding up a purple mess of lace and straps. You’re not sure how you’re going to get into it, much less what it will look like while you’re wearing it, but he seems to know what he’s looking at, so you’re not going to contradict him. You might just need his help getting into it, which you’re sure he won’t complain about. 
Your skin prickles as you continue to follow Johnny, warning bells going off in the back of your head. 
Someone is staring at you. 
You lift your gaze from the rack Johnny is flipping through, scanning the store to try and find who it is that’s staring at you so intently. It’s not Simon where he’s lingering against the back wall trying to avoid touching anything like it might infect him with some deadly disease, or give him the mental image of you in it. 
The prickling of your skin feels too different from the prickling you usually feel when his gaze is on you. Someone is watching you, yet the shoppers and even the employees in the store are in their own little worlds, going about their business and paying you no mind. You step closer to Johnny, your arm brushing his. It’s not unlike the feeling you get in your room, the idea that there were cameras in there, that there still might be one that you missed. That paranoid tickling down your spine that you might be being watched at any moment. 
“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, looking up at you as you step even closer to him. 
Warmth presses against your back, making you flinch just slightly in surprise. You nearly panic, until the familiar scent of leather and eucalyptus washes over you. 
“What is it?” Warm breath fans your ear, calloused fingers ghosting down your bare arm. 
“I-I think someone’s watching us.” You say quietly, leaning into both of them. 
Both of them straighten up, and you can imagine their gazes scanning the store, profiling every single customer and worker, picking up things you could only dream of noticing. Simon’s fingers wrap around your arm, not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough to offer a little support as they look for the culprit of your paranoid feelings. 
There’s no tickling at the back of your neck signaling your brain picking up on a change to Simon’s emotions. Neither of them seem to pick up on a possible threat. Perhaps it’s all just in your head, some sort of trauma response after being cooped up on base for so long paired with what happened while they were away. There are cameras in the store. You are being watched. Maybe it’s just trauma fueled paranoia after all. 
Simon lets go of your arm to step up close to Johnny, speaking quietly to him. You’re not listening, your eyes scanning the store again. You slide closer to Simon, the prickling feeling of being watched gone now. Your hand lifts, fingers wrapping around his forearm, his skin warm under your touch. You’ve never been quite this close to him, this physical, that wasn’t out of necessity before. It’s exciting, the prospect of being so open with him. Just the thought that he noticed your discomfort, picked up on your worry like that makes your omega want to roll over and show her belly. 
“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, his eyes flickering between you and Simon. 
Your gaze snaps back to him, and you nod without even thinking about it. “Yeah.” 
“You two go an’ pick out some new skids, I’m almost done.” He says. They must not have noticed anything worthy of being concerned about, nothing that could lead them to thinking there’s a threat. 
It’s just like what happened that morning when you asked Simon to open the door to your room all over again. 
Suddenly the mood shifts back to what it was at Johnny’s words, Simon shifting uncomfortably next to you. You can feel his muscles flex under your hand as he clenches his fists, letting out a long breath. 
You shake off the paranoia and the worry, putting your trust in them should something happen. You drop your hand from his forearm to his wrist, tugging lightly on his arm. “Come on. They’re just panties. They don’t bite.” You grin teasingly up at him. 
“Bloody hell.” He groans before letting you tug him over to the section of the store with the underwear. 
You find the ones that you had gotten before, grabbing one in every color. Simon stands to the side like a guard dog, arms crossed, trying to look as manly as possible amongst the lace and ribbons. You pick up a couple more in Johnny’s favorite color, the beta approaching you both. 
“Look what I found.” He grins wickedly, holding up a pair of panties.
You nearly choke as you stare at them, Simon shifting just slightly behind you. In Johnny’s hands are a pair of black cheeky panties with lace edges. They wouldn’t be anything special, had it not been for the skull pattern on the fabric. 
Your face warms as you stare at them, the meaning not lost on you. Of course Johnny would find something like that in a store with probably hundreds of pairs of underwear. You can’t help but think he might have been looking for something like that this whole time. 
Johnny steps up to you, turning you around to face Simon. His back brushes your chest as he wraps his arms around you, holding the panties up in front of your chest. 
You wish you could see Simon’s face. All of his face. His jaw is clenched, his eyes burning as he stares at the underwear in Johnny’s hands. His whole body is tense, the tendons and muscles in his forearms bulging from how tightly he’s clenching his muscles. A bead of sweat runs down your back from the intensity of his stare, his gaze shifting from the underwear to your face. They flicker back and forth, almost like he doesn’t quite know which is worse to look at: you or the panties. 
His body tenses even more, his gaze finally settling on the underwear. He’s imagining you in them. You can see it, the way his eyes get darker and darker, his scent thickening. Several thoughts run through your head as you stare at him, your stomach fluttering as you suddenly come to a realization. You lift your hands, taking the underwear from Johnny, continuing to hold it in front of your chest. 
“Fucking hell...” Simon breathes, his hands dropping to his sides, still tightly closed into fists. 
“Would...” You clear your throat, trying to shake the waver from your voice. “Would you like to see me in them?” 
His gaze snaps to yours, and it nearly has you running for cover. He looks like he wants to simultaneously devour you and bend you over the nearest table. The primal urge to run tickles in the back of your brain, to run and let him chase you. 
He looks like he would do it, too. 
Have you been misreading his actions towards you? You never thought he’d feel like that about you. Was his reluctant tolerance, his drive to keep you at arm’s length less because he disliked you, and more because he likes you too much?
His behavior and his actions begin to make sense the more you think about it. He’s not keeping you at arm's distance because he doesn't like you, because he doesn’t think you don’t belong with them. He’s not afraid of the weakness you might cause in the pack, the disruption you’ve brought to their lives. He’s afraid of how you’re making him feel. 
Has he ever been in love? Has he ever held feelings for another before Johnny? Did he even want to have feelings for Johnny in the first place, or did Johnny force his way in until Simon finally accepted he can’t change the way he feels? 
You’re not trying to invoke that kind of response from him. You’ve respected his boundaries, kept him at arm’s distance as much as you could to try and avoid making him hate you, to try and avoid ruining all the work you’ve put into just making him accept you as part of the pack. 
Maybe you had been trying in all the wrong ways. 
All the things he did for you, all the ways he treated you suddenly make sense. His disappointment at your neglecting him on the tarmac should have made it obvious to you. 
Hell, he’d let you spoon him the very next morning like it was nothing. 
Does he want to be your second alpha? Even if he doesn’t, does he want to push past that barrier and open up to that kind of relationship with you? The bond you have with him is hardly even platonic, a weak thread connecting you built out of proximity and interaction. The bond you have with Dr. Keller is stronger, and she’s not even part of your pack. 
Does he want to build that bond with you? 
Looking at him has your body warming, a fire igniting under your skin. You can’t handle it anymore, the intensity of his stare threatening to make you do something indecent in this lingerie shop. 
You turn to face Johnny, certain steam has to be rising off your body at this point. You shove the pile of panties into his hands, including the one with skulls on them. “We’re getting them.” You say, trying to ignore the grin pulling at his lips. 
You take half a second to breathe as the tension in the air is cut off, another shopper passing by, giving the three of you a look. You’re sure you’re projecting your scent, and you can imagine just how much Simon’s scent has taken over the store. 
Johnny carries the armful of lingerie to the checkout and you follow behind him, Simon bending down to whisper something in his ear before heading for the door. You watch him step outside, moving until he’s just visible through the glass from the register. You have half a mind to follow him, half a mind to confront him and ask him for an explanation, ask him why he felt it necessary to hold you at arm’s length when there’s a chance he’s been feeling this way the whole time. 
You don’t, instead sticking close to Johnny’s side as he pays far too much for the lingerie. Your heart is still racing from the exchange with Simon, your hands shaking just a little as Johnny hands you the bag. His hand is warm on your back as he guides you from the store, Simon turning as you approach him. 
“Let’s grab somethin’ to eat, then we’ll go.” Johnny says, leading you back towards the car. 
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“We need to talk.” 
You almost turn tail and run as Simon’s gaze snaps up to meet yours. He sits there, frozen for just a moment, before he slowly lowers his phone, sliding it into his sweatshirt pocket. You don’t sit down on the couch next to him, instead you remain standing, wanting to keep the energy in the room in your favor. You know if you sit, your brain will slip into submission to the large alpha. At least looking down on him, you have more of a chance at keeping that illusion of dominance. 
“I want to know how long.” You say, taking half a step closer to him, one foot planted, the other half raised, ready to bolt in case this goes south. “I want to know how long you’ve had feelings for me.” 
His gaze hardens as he stares up at you, and despite your position of dominance, you wish he’d take off his mask just so you could read his face, read his reactions. You can’t back down, though. Not now, not when things have come to a head between you. There’s no going back, there’s no playing pretend anymore. You can’t move on after the events earlier in the lingerie shop.
“I want to know the truth.” You say, not backing down. You won’t submit to him so easily this time. 
“When you punched that asshole Corporal.” He says, looking away from you to stare at the black screen of the television. “Allen. Proved you weren’t just some weak, pathetic omega that was only going to slow us down, make us work twice as hard to keep you alive.” He snorts softly. “That first night with Johnny.” He continues, his voice softer than it had been. “That’s when it changed. He yapped the whole morning about what happened, what you two did, like a bloody slag.” 
Your face warms at the idea of Johnny spilling all the intimate details. It doesn’t upset you as much as it probably should, though it wasn’t like they couldn’t all hear it happening. Simon especially, sharing a wall with him. He probably could have recounted the whole thing himself if he’d wanted to. 
“I wanted to hate you. Fucking tried so hard to, but you make it so bloody hard.” He shakes his head. “I’m not supposed to.” 
A frown pulls at your brows as you listen to him. As an alpha in the pack, he technically could if he wanted to. You’re certain John wouldn’t have a problem with it, in fact he might encourage it, if it gets rid of the stick that’s been up Simon’s ass since your arrival, or maybe even before then. 
“I-I don’t understand.” You say, stepping closer to him. 
“I can’t.” He snaps, wheeling around to face you. You freeze in your approach, your weight shifting back in case you need to run. “I can’t.” He repeats, his voice softer, the tenseness in his shoulders deflating as he diverts his gaze. “It’s too dangerous.” 
Your frown deepens as you stare at him. “What do you mean?” 
“I’ll only hurt you.” He shakes his head. 
You understand it now. Those four words have given you all the explanation you need to understand his hesitation, his predicament, why it’s taken him this long to openly admit his feelings, to accept them. 
You bravely continue your approach until you’re standing right next to him. His gaze is anywhere but on you, seeming very small despite his hulking size. “You’re not going to hurt me.” You say, slowly reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. “I know you won’t. If...if you’re worried about turning out like your father, then that’s enough proof that you won’t. You know, you’re aware, so you can stop it.” He goes to turn away, but you stop him, catching his wrist in your hand. “We don’t have to. If you’re not comfortable enough then that’s okay. I have that need filled plenty.” You plop down on the couch next to him as you lift his hand to your face, pressing his bare palm into your skin. “But I wouldn’t stop you, if you wanted to.” 
His hand is big and warm as it slowly relaxes against your face. His eyes meet yours, staring deep into them. You stare right back, not letting his size or the intensity of his gaze force you to submit. His thumb drags along your cheekbone, his calluses scratching across your skin, but that’s a feeling you’ve become very used to. You press your hand against his, your fingers trembling just slightly from the emotion and the intensity of the moment. 
“It’s not just me that might hurt you. I’ve made enemies, people that would do anything to get back at me.” He says quietly. 
You shrug. “So does everyone in this pack. That was a risk I was made well aware of before I was sent here. That’s why I don’t know jack shit about what any of you do. That’s why I’m basically non-existent and invisible except to a select few. I used to think about it, when I first arrived here. What if something happened to me because of your jobs? What if someone found out about me?” You shrug again, your thumb rubbing the back of his hand. “That’s a risk we all signed up for, right?” 
He stares at you for a while, his hand still pressed against your cheek. You wish you could read his mind, see the thoughts turning those wheels behind his eyes. You wish he was an open book, something you could breeze right through like the ones on the shelves. Instead, he might be the most closed off person you’ve ever met. You’ve never even seen his face 
Slowly he begins leaning forward, his gaze never leaving yours. If it hadn’t been for the mask, you might have thought he was leaning in for a kiss. You might have leaned in for a kiss, had he not been wearing the mask. Instead he leans forward until your foreheads are touching, his gaze finally leaving yours as his eyes flutter closed. You finally relax yourself, melting into him slightly as you sit there, breathing in the quiet moment. Something’s shifting, something’s changing between the two of you. 
You’re not quite sure how it’s going to end, but you can’t deny the bond beginning to form between you and Simon. 
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hedgehog-moss · 1 day
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I volunteered to help the florist with her Mother's Day deliveries today, it was fun! My favourite parts of the experience:
early this morning I delivered flowers to women who were busy with morning farm chores, usually out in the barn; some had forgotten it was Mother's Day and were pleasantly surprised to see me show up holding a bunch of flowers above my head (so it wouldn't get eaten by barn animals on the way)
speaking of: one woman let a cow smell the flowers, then said "they're probably treated with chemicals—better not have a taste" with an apologetic look (at her cow)
a little boy opened the door at one point and I said, flowers for your mum! and he called her and while waiting for her to come downstairs, he said, "I learnt a Mother's Day poem at school", so I said, let's hear it! And apparently he hadn't expected that, and he lit up upon realising he would get higher returns on his poem investment than expected. He thought he'd recited it once and it was over but here was a fresh new audience!
a woman whom I found at the back of her garden hanging out with ducks deplored the fact that she didn't have a coin in her pocket for a tip, then said "Do you want to see my baby pigeons?" Yes of course I want to see your baby pigeons. That's a good tip
I delivered a bouquet to someone and a woman next door, who was in her garden, turned to the open window of her house and said, "[Neighbour's name] got flowers! For MOTHER'S DAY."
I later had to return to that street after a last-minute order was placed to this woman's address. Whomever she was talking to inside the house got the message loud and clear :)
at one point I entered a barn that seemed empty (except for cows), said "Is anyone here?" and a goat SPRUNG UP out of nowhere and poked me with her hoof and gave me a heart attack
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I returned to the shop and the florist let me pick a couple of plants as thanks, and we had the usual conversation���"Would this cheerful yellow plant thrive in my house?" "No. Your house is under 10°C. Try this one instead." Me: "This one isn't yellow :( It's more austere" Her: "So is your house" (She entered my non-heated kitchen in December once, and ever since I've been trying to convince her that it's not always like that) (just six months per year)
as I sat in the shop waiting for more bouquets to deliver, a man came in to buy roses and the florist started wrapping a ribbon around the bunch and the man asked, could you put a ribbon around each rose? I said aw they're for several mums? :) And he said yeah—that he was going to visit his mum at the retirement home and he wanted to get something "for all her friends too, why not!" It made everyone smile
admiring the florist's skill as she quickly put together a bouquet for a new order, I said something like "at least AI won't steal your job" and she said "with quantum computing, you don't know... not sure what it is but I read an article and it sounded scary." I said, I heard it's still impractical because the quantum computer particles need to be kept in very cold environments, like close to absolute zero, and she said "Quantum plants would thrive in your house."
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Florist: "I'll accompany you for this delivery because the person who filled the form gave a 'turn left after the third mossy rock'-type of address"
I was invited at her house for lunch, and I asked warily "Does your husband still have swans?" She said "No, we only kept the geese. We have just 3. They're evil too but not as bad as the swans"
one of my favourite interactions was when I delivered flowers in a hamlet that could fit in my pocket, and a young girl who came to the door asked me in what village I lived, and I said, it's not a village, just a lone house in the woods, and she sighed "I wish I could live away from civilisation." I looked around us. Asked, how many people live in this village? She said, "Sixty." I said, "That's too many?" She said, "Yeah."
Final stats for today: I was offered a coffee 4 times, Mother's Day chocolates 2 times, and 1 meeting with baby pigeons; was startled by 1 goat and terrorised by 3 geese; petted 2 windowsill cats, and was asked if Pampérigouste was currently in her pasture 4 times.
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cutielando · 1 day
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Lactation kink with lando to help him sleep🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️
warning: lactation kink, nipple play, titty play, sloppy handjob, grinding
a/n: this is my first time ever writing something even remotely close to smut, so please don't judge me too harshly ^_^
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♡♡♡♡♡
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He couldn't help it.
During your pregnancy, he couldn't help the awe he felt whenever he felt your breasts in his hands, so swollen and full and ready to feed his child.
He found you insanely sexy even before pregnancy, but imagine what he felt once you were swollen with his child, your curves and beauty even more appealing to him than ever before.
He loved you, every little part of your body, but your breasts would always top the game.
You would often complain about them, saying they were always sore, heavy and swollen.
"Lan, my boobs hurt so much. Can you please help me?"
Absolute music to his ears.
Once you gave birth, the phrase gave him even more of a rush. Because of you breastfeeding your little girl, all of your shirt had wet spots where your nipples were, the excess milk always finding its way to your shirt.
Lando went feral every time he noticed.
He didn't know why he found it so hot, or why it stirred such a reaction out of him. Maybe because it reminded him time and time again that you were the mother of his child, that you gave him the best gift he could have ever received.
"You look tired" he stated one night, coming into your bedroom after he'd put the baby to sleep.
You sighed, running your hands down your face and then putting them on your breasts, who were once again swollen and full.
"I always look tired. Besides, the baby didn't eat all that much tonight so I'm swollen again" you grimaced as you pressed onto your left boob, wincing at the pinch of pain you felt.
Seeing you massaging the boobs that he had become so obsessed with got Lando going, once again. He licked his lips, his jeans gradually straining against his crotch as all the blood traveled down to his cock.
"Want me to help you out?" he asked, and you nodded without a second thought.
You didn't think much of it. In fact, you would be lying if you said the sight of Lando massaging and sucking on your boobs didn't make you wet and craving for him. Your hormones were going crazy when you were near him, whenever he would touch you where you needed him the most, but nothing made you as wet as him sucking the milk out of your boobs did.
"Lay back for me" his husky voice said, quickly working to discard every last piece of clothing from his body.
Your breathing quickened as you watched him get naked right in front of you, your hands unconsciously flying to your shirt, taking it off and throwing it somewhere on the floor next to Lando's clothes.
He slowly stalked over to you and laid down next to you on the bed, his fingertips slowly inching upwards across your body to where you needed him the most.
"So beautiful" he whispered once his hand reached the underside of your boob, leaning down and pressing a kiss to it. "And full" another kiss. "And all mine" you gasped when he wrapped his lips around your hardened nipple, his other hand gravitating towards your other boob, playing with your other nipple as he started sucking on your left one.
You gasped at the sensation of Lando stimulating your nipples, the pleasure coursing through your veins like adrenaline. Nobody had ever made you feel like Lando has, the reactions he got out of your body and the things he could make you feel sometimes made you think you were living a fairytale.
But in moments like this one, with his tongue running over your nipple and his hand twisting and pinching your other one, milk oozing out of your breasts and into his awaiting mouth, you knew you weren't dreaming or imagining anything.
"Oh God" you moaned out quietly, not wanting to risk waking the baby.
Your moans did nothing but spur Lando on, the driver more determined than ever to please you out of your mind. He sucked harder on your nipple, the milk filling his mouth and making him moan out.
He was incredibly hard in that moment, his cock poking at the side of your thigh. With your eyes still closed, you reached out with your hand and wrapped your arms around his rock hard cock, feeling every vein pulsing with need against your hand.
You slowly started pumping his length, using the oozing precum as lube to lather him up. He started sucking you with more drive while you were jerking him off with a passion.
"Please, baby" Lando whimpered out, unlatching from your left nipple for a second before diving in to your right one, his hips now grinding against your hand.
You moaned out at the intense feeling of Lando sucking on your boobs, squeezing his length while pumping it faster and faster.
"Oh God" Lando moaned out all of a sudden, his grip on your boobs tightening as his hips started grinding faster against your hand before he stilled, ropes of cum painting his stomach and your hand.
You both panted, hearts beating out of your chests. Lando slowly let go of your boobs, pressing a kiss to each of them before he fell back on the bed next to you.
"That was amazing" you breathed out, making Lando nod before getting up to go to the bathroom to clean himself up.
Once you finally caught your breath, you found your discarded shirt on the floor and put it on, getting under the covers and waiting for Lando.
A minute later, he emerged from the bathroom, turned off all the lights and got under the covers with you.
"Thank you" you whispered, cuddling up to his warm body and burying your face in the crook of his neck.
"Anything for you, mama" he pressed a kiss on the top of your head, settling in bed and closing his eyes.
You both drifted off into a deep slumber, Lando happy and content as your milk kicked in and allowed him to finally get some rest.
Who knew that was all he needed?
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 days
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do you believe me now? | 6
in which spencer reid and inexperienced!fem reader are finally honest with each other. complete with tears and more than a few make-up kisses.
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this series is 18+ warnings/tags: angst but mostly fluff, i think this qualifies as hurt/comfort, HHEHHEHHEH, lots of kissing, so cheesy, you jokingly imply he's a slut, i need him expeditiously a/n: thank you guys for being patient with me!! ilysm!! i edited this until i hated it but i hope it's satisfactory for YOU guys..... as always please please let me know what you think!! and i already started the next part hehehe
The car ride is the worst of your life. 
Neither of you speak. 
And you find yourself wishing, pleading to god that one of you will say something to fix this—but each minute ticks by and the streets get familiar and a quiet song ends and you realize you were silly to ever think a twenty minute car ride would change anything. 
Spencer was the luckiest you’d ever been and your relationship is floating away like a balloon you forgot to hold on to—nothing more than a red dot lost to the vast blue. 
Maybe for him it’s easier. You’re pretty sure it is, as you risk one or two glances at his unreadable profile that turn into lingering, obsessive looks because you’re panicking and realizing you’ll maybe never see him this close again. It’s funny and terrible how quickly you’re remembering what it was like to see him at the coffee shop for the first time—how he was nothing but a beautiful stranger, completely unknown to you and worlds away. Now you’ve had him, sort of, and you’re turning into the girl who could never have him all over again. 
When he turns onto your street reality begins to sink in. Your heart is a short fuse inside your chest as he pulls into a spot and parks the car. The rumble of the engine cuts. The headlights stay on. 
For a moment, everything is quiet. You wish you could insert your own reality into the silence—one where you’re simply enjoying each other’s company and there’s no sense of impending doom to take your breath away. 
“Do you want to talk?” Spencer asks, looking pointedly ahead where the lights shine off the back of some other person’s car. A wayward moth dips and swirls into the high beams. You watch Spencer track it with his eyes. 
“I’m not sure what to say,” you admit quietly. The weight of everything you’d like to say sits in your stomach like lead, too heavy to divulge. It’s only been a few weeks of having to carry the truth around with you and your muscles are already fatiguing. The idea of carrying it around indefinitely makes your eyes sting. You’re already exhausted. 
Maybe a stronger person would find that last bit of energy to make a final push, to save the relationship just before it falls apart. 
But you never claimed to be strong.
Deep down, you must’ve known you weren’t ready for a real relationship. You can’t handle all of this pretending to be okay with things that hurt. Even if that's the grown-up thing to do.
“I tried. I really did, I’m sorry—I’m—”
Before you can get the words out your throat tightens around them and you bury your face in your hands. 
The sound of his seatbelt unlocking and whirring back surprises you—but you’re even more surprised when he undoes yours. Still, you move your arm so it can snap back into place and then he’s pulling you into him. 
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, one hand on the back of your head as you lean over the small gap between the seats, unable to stop yourself from shedding more tears. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”
He’s sorry. 
For not loving you?
If it’s not your fault he doesn’t love you back—then whose fault is it? Who’ll take the fall?
But still, he’s holding you so carefully, like you’re made of porcelain. Something to be protected. Or at the very least, something to be mourned even after it’s in pieces. 
As you lean against him, lulled by the slow in and out of his breath, the inverse of yours, and the way he slips his thumb over the back of your hair in silence for a few minutes—you wonder what’s missing. Why he’s not satisfied. 
“I don’t understand you.”
The words come out flat, muffled by his coat, garbled with leftover tears. 
“What was that?” Spencer asks gently, still playing with your hair. You sniffle, adjusting your head so your cheek is to his shoulder and your lips are no longer smushed. 
“I just… I want you to explain it to me.”
“Explain what?”
You sit up just enough to meet his eyes. The movement seems to take him by surprise, but he keeps his hands on you—one slipping to your cheek and the other still loyal to your back. He brushes his fingers over the delicate skin beneath your eye and you cover them with your own in an effort to get him to stop treating you so kindly. But even now, when you’re mad at him for being so gentle in the way that he hurts you, you can’t help but seek the familiar callus on the side of his trigger finger. It’s an odd thing to anticipate missing, but you’ll miss all of him. You can’t imagine holding a hand without that familiar anomaly—a cairn to show you where he’s been and who you’re holding. 
He curls his warm hand around yours and you hold your joined fist out for him in emphasis, speaking louder than either of you were prepared for. 
“This! You! I understand that we don’t feel the same way about each other and maybe I can’t change that. But then you do this and I don’t understand why. I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you, because it’s enough for me, and I just—I don’t know what else I can give you. I don’t know what else there is. I don’t understand why I’m not... enough.” The tears are back and flowing freely, but you forge breathlessly ahead, because you’ve finally found a way to be honest and you’re not going to stop now. Spencer is frowning, lips parted and clearly confused or shocked or something, but you continue your confessional before he has the chance to interrupt. “I want to be enough, but you didn’t even give me the chance, and I don’t think it’s fair that we’re breaking up when you didn’t let me try. Maybe if you just told me, if you explained what’s missing I could fix it and you could love me back, and—please. I just want to try. Please, Spencer.”
A car engine revs somewhere far away, echoing down the street. It reverberates for several seconds, unimpeded by any other noise. Any word, any breath. 
His voice is thin when he responds a moment later, still studying your face with a kind of scrutiny that is so indecipherable you don’t know how you expect him to respond. 
“Love you back?”
You blink. 
Your stomach drops. 
For all that you’d revealed, for all that you’d willingly humiliated yourself with your pathetic supplication—you’d meant to keep that four letter word to yourself. 
What a way to make an exit from your relationship. 
Spencer is still looking at you, keeping you pinned to your seat, and as much as you wish it wasn’t the case he’s not going to let you off the hook this time. He’s going to demand an answer, and you have a 0% chance of bursting into mist before you have to provide an explanation, so you have no choice but to say something. 
What, exactly, you’re going to say—you don’t know. 
“I didn’t…”
“You didn’t mean it.”
The response comes so quickly, sharp as a slap, that you jump back slightly, a deep frown twisting your brow. Spencer makes no effort to keep his hand in yours as you slip from his grasp. 
“That’s not what I was—”
“Just say what you mean.” Silence. “Tell me.”
It’s like he’s got an ice pick to your chest. It’s like he wants you to humiliate yourself even further, to punish you for your messy indiscretions. 
“Spencer…”
It’s a warning. You’re giving him a chance to stop this before he hurts you sadistically. Before he becomes unrecognizable. 
He swallows. 
“Please.” And then, a second later, when you’re still trying to process the quiet pain in his voice and suddenly faced with the unexpected question of who is hurting who, “please, just… tell me if you meant it.”
For the first time tonight, you notice how exhausted he looks. Slightly gaunt, even paler than usual. Shadows pool deeper in the hollows of his face. His eyes look glossy, dark crescents below awaiting to catch tears you realize you’ve never seen fall. The tonal shift has you so disoriented, so out of your body like you’re seeing yourself in his own injuries—the truth becomes the only humane answer. Even if it hurts you.
“Yes. I meant it. You know I mean it.”
“I don’t know that,” he says on a shaky exhale. “How would I know that?”
And he’s got the ice pick back at your sternum. It’s tipped in poison. The mallet trembles in the air. So does your voice. 
“You told me you didn’t feel the same. You said it was new for me and different and I was going to make things complicated and you treated me like I was a stupid kid, and—and it doesn’t even matter. This was dumb. I’m sorry I said anything, I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just.. I can’t do this.”
You’re about to open the door, every muscle tense as you wonder what the hell is wrong with you. What reduced you to the weepy, pathetic girl, begging a boy to love her despite knowing it doesn’t work like that—the same girl you’ve looked down your nose at in every film and TV show and in every high school and college hallway since you learned what self-superiority meant. Before you knew exactly what it felt like to be her. 
“Wait.”
He says your name.  
And of course you pause. 
You want a reason to stay. If you had more self-respect, you wouldn’t. But you know you’ll give him as many chances to give you an excuse as he’s willing to take. You knew that before your fingers met the metal of the door handle. 
“Just—hold on a second. Can you look at me?” 
You sniffle and wipe your eyes with the heel of your palm before turning around to face him once more. You wonder if anyone will ever have the kind of power he has over you ever again. 
The despair leaves only wisps of itself on his face—mostly he looks like he’s thinking hard about something. It’s jarring. 
“You’re talking about our phone call on Sunday, right?”
You nod petulantly with a quick teary eye-roll because obviously that’s what you’re talking about. 
Something lights in his own dark eyes as he inhales, parts his lips as if to speak, and stops himself again. Like he’s got news that he’s not sure how to break. 
“The things I said, on that call… I wasn’t talking… about you.”
Your insides feel like tangled yarn as you stare at him uncomprehendingly. 
“I mean, I was. I was talking about us. But not in the way you think, it was—” he stops, rubbing his eyes and taking a frazzled breath. “I know what it’s like to be the one who cares more. I have to assume that I’m the one who cares more because when I don’t, I ruin things. And with you, I felt like—the stakes were so high, and I thought it’d be safer for me to not say anything until I knew you felt the same. But I know that’s not fair to you so I tried to tell you over the phone that if you didn’t feel the same way it was okay. And now I’m—I’m realizing the way I phrased it was incredibly unclear and misleading, and somehow I fucked it up in a completely new way. But I wasn’t referring to you. I just didn’t want you to feel stuck with someone who can’t give you casual when you have so much ahead of you. I had no idea you felt that way about me. And I am so, so sorry that I hurt you. I never meant for that to happen.”
You blink. 
And for some reason, begin sobbing. 
Spencer freezes for a moment, then tells you to stay there and you barely have the capacity to wonder what he means as you hear his own door opening then slamming shut again. A moment later he’s on the passenger side, opening your door and leaning in. 
“Hey,” he whispers, gently pulling your hands from your face and making you turn your head to look at him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But that’s good news, right? Why all the tears, lovely? What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”
You take a shuddering breath. 
“This is all my fault, I ruined everything because I was too scared to tell you before and now—and now—”
Stroking your cheeks to wipe away the tears is a futile effort because they just keep coming, but Spencer does it anyway, and he speaks so kindly, so evenly it somehow hurts deeper. 
You were terrible to him. And he had been prepared to accept that. He thought you didn’t love him, and he was still willing to be the subject of all your cryptic frostiness and inexplicable cruelty. 
“It is not your fault. You didn’t ruin anything. I’m still right here. We’re okay.”
“But we’re breaking up, and—and I was so mean to you. That’s not okay, Spencer.”
You finally look at him. He’s close, eyes warm and wide as he looks directly into your own teary gaze, shaking his head earnestly. 
“You were confused, honey. So was I. It was just a misunderstanding. But… I know I was unkind to you. I cannot express how sorry I am for that, and the last thing I want is for us to break up, but if you think that’s what’s best, I’ll… I’ll understand.”
His voice is dangerously thin by the end, strained with impending tears of his own. But he’s eternally kind—backlit by the streetlamps and beautiful like an angel.  Whatever you want, he’ll give you. Even if it’s this. 
“I don’t want that. I don’t.” You sigh, closing your eyes briefly against the world as you realize the impending breakup had been a delusion all along. That you were going to let your insecurities and some sick pride end the relationship for you. All that despair had been for nothing. Or—maybe not nothing. You realize he still hasn’t said it back. But you won’t be a coward. It’s not worth losing him. You open your eyes.  “I just—I want us to be on the same page. And if you don’t love me yet or if you don’t wanna say it, or if you can’t, I get it—it’s okay, but if you don’t could you maybe just tell me? So that I’ll know—”
Before you can process it Spencer is leaning in, head angled to accommodate you, pressing his lips to yours so softly your breath catches and your stomach flips. Maybe softer than he ever has before, and it’s like taking a deep breath after holding it through a dark tunnel. You exhale a tentatively soft sigh against him, releasing air you don't have along with the fraught tension in most of your body. All too quickly he’s pulling away, hands still cupping your cheeks and thumbs stroking over your skin. When he speaks it’s not quite a whisper, but secret-soft. 
“How could I not be so in love with you?” 
Suddenly you can feel the world turning underneath you. Or maybe you’re just dizzy from lack of oxygen. Either way it feels good. A drop of warmth makes a splash in your stomach and slowly spreads through every vein and capillary until you’re sure you’re glowing gold. 
“Really?”
“Of course really. I’m—” he takes a breath of his own, and you realize how difficult this must be after what happened the last time he professed his love for a girl. Your chest aches for him. His voice is low and solicitous, but it wavers slightly. “I should have told you sooner. I wanted to, but I was worried—I was worried the way I felt for you was… too much. I am so in love with you it scares me. I still don’t know what to say or how to act around you. When I’m gone, sometimes I imagine quitting my job, just so I can come home and see you sooner. When I have a gun in my hands, I start thinking about all the things I would do to keep you safe, or—or just because you asked me to. And if what you wanted was for me to leave you alone, I would have done that. If you wanted me to drop everything and everyone to be with you I would have done that. And I know you’d never ask those things of me. But any of them, I’d do in a heartbeat. Which is… it’s a little scary, huh?”
The final sentence is a nervous self-effacing chuckle, which you can match in sound only—one breathy attempt at a laugh from your slackened jaw. 
When that’s the only response you can manage, he clears his throat. 
“Too honest?”
You shake your head as if in a fog. 
“No. Not too honest. But I’m just… I’m trying not to cry again.”
He smooths over your hair fondly. His own eyes are shiny and full of wonder as he studies you for a short while, like you're doing something much more awe-inspiring than sniffling in the passenger seat of his car. Then one hand is dropped to your shoulder and the other braced against your seat back. Finally, he pulls back to a more reasonable distance with a shaky sigh. It’s a sound of relief. You want to hug him, and all the past hims who have ever been hurt by anyone. 
“You, um—you need to rehydrate. Do you have anything that will rebalance your electrolytes? If you don’t I can go to the store—”
“You don’t need to do that,” you assure him with a small, watery laugh, loosely grabbing the wrist that brushes your shoulder. 
“But you need to take care of yourself. And I know you haven’t been drinking enough water because you never do.”
There’s a lingering overwrought shakiness to his voice, but it’s still the most relaxed he’s sounded since he came home, and you realize that the worst is behind you. The storm that you’d been so sure you couldn’t weather is somehow clearing up. 
“I can’t believe we almost just broke up.”
He hangs his head, dropping it to the curve of your neck and groaning. 
“Don’t say that. Let’s not think about that right now. Just—” when he raises his head again, and shakes it slightly to get his hair out of his eyes, they’ve cleared, like he’s on a mission to change the subject. “Let’s go upstairs. Will you let me take care of you?”
You give him an exaggerated nod, still sniffing, and the smile that grows on his face is like seeing the sun rise above the ocean. You love his smile. You love him. 
Spencer kisses you on the cheek. 
“Okay. Let me lock the car and then we can go up.”
As soon as you get into your apartment and turn on the light Spencer goes to the kitchen. It’s a small unit, but antique and nice enough, though you prefer Spencer’s. There’s still some tension as you observe him filling a glass with water, kicking your boots off by the door—but not necessarily the bad kind. You’re not sure exactly what it is. 
“Where are you going?” He asks as you pass the kitchen area to turn on a standing lamp in the opposite corner of the room. 
“I don’t like the big light.” A warm glow emanates through stained glass as you flick it on. 
“I know that. I just didn’t realize it was a higher priority than your wellbeing.” His tone is sardonic but he’s already switching off the overhead lighting for you. You give him a wry smirk as you finally approach and take the proffered glass from his waiting hand. 
“Ambience over everything, baby.”
His brows pinch at the cavalier sentiment—you never call him baby, so you're sure he knows it’s a joke—and he shakes his head with a humorous little huff of air through his nose, watching as you drink deeply. Your hand is shaking. Spencer notices and covers it with both of his, taking the half empty glass with one and grabbing your hand with the other. 
“Adrenaline,” he murmurs, kissing your knuckles. “It’ll go away soon. Did you get enough?”
You nod, smiling small but genuinely. Emotionally exhausted or not, you’re happy. 
Spencer strays, not far, to set the glass on the counter. Then he turns to face you, bracing his palms on the ledge and just watching you for a moment with the kind of smile that makes you nervous in the best way.
He beckons you to him with nothing more than a quick tilt of his head, and you shuffle across the floor in your socks til you’re toe to toe. Without your shoes on, he feels much taller. Still he just watches you for a moment—not that you mind. Your view isn’t half-bad. The faint warm glow from the lamp casts shadows over his face, highlighting all the perfect angles, deep brown eyes framed by dark lashes, and lips that still make you feel like a girl with a crush when you look at him. His hair is getting long. You’re unreasonably glad you still get to look at him like this. 
“Hi,” you whisper—something about the intimate dark of the room feels like a place for secrets. 
“Hi, pretty.” Spencer tucks hair behind your ear, eyes soft wherever they focus on your face like if he even looks at you too sharply you might break. “Have I told you how much I missed you while I was gone?”
He knows he hasn’t.
“Even when I was being a heinous bitch?”
Spencer laughs and it makes you smile too. The way his smile changes the landscape of his whole face will never feel any less like observing a natural phenomenon. It’s unfair how beautiful he is, and how you’re keeping him all to yourself in the dark on the fourth floor of an apartment building in DC. 
“Even then. Not sure that’s the wording I would have used.”
“I missed you too,” you admit softly. 
He maps your face with wandering eyes like he’s done a hundred times. Vaguely you wonder if he sees the same kind of beauty in you that you see in him. If he sees landmarks in your flaws and stars beyond the observable universe in your eyes. 
Spencer sweeps your hair over your shoulder, fingertips grazing your neck. 
“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs. 
Butterflies fill your stomach and you nod shyly, unsure of what would come out if you tried to speak.
His free hand settles on your lower back and brings you into him until you’re chest to chest. With his other on your jaw, he bows his head, and you angle yours up, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. 
Spencer kisses you so gently it aches in your chest, still cupping your face and stroking your cheek. You can’t help wrapping your arms around his middle—before he’s pulling away far too soon. 
And he’s laughing. 
“What were you drinking?”
You frown, flustered and trying to remember a time before his lips were on yours.
“Water.”
“Before that, baby. At the bar.”
You think back even further, head muddled even more by the endearment so that it takes you a moment to recall. 
“A Shirley Temple. Derek brought it to me. Why? Is that bad?”
“No,” he says, still smiling as his lips brush yours. “You’re perfect. You taste like candy. It’s cute.”
Oh. You feel warm as he presses another kiss to your lips—and this time you insist on him staying awhile. He’s happy to oblige. 
Spencer kisses you soft and careful at first, and then deeper, but still so slow, until you can’t help the way you’re bunching the fabric of his shirt between your fingers and rising on your toes to try and get impossibly closer. He kisses you the way you’ve been needing him to since he left, long and unhurried and sweet—and takes everything you give him, siphoning away all your leftover turmoil and angst until you’re weightless. You’re deprived of oxygen, you’re dizzy, and you don’t care at all. 
“I love you,” you breathe against him before he captures your lips again with a hum that flips your stomach, his hand rubbing over your hip. 
“Say it again,” he mutters against your mouth a second later, brushing hair away from your face. 
It comes out a little mumbled this time between kisses, but it comes out all the same. 
“Love you.”
He sighs into you—relief that mirrors your own. 
“I love you.”
It seems like the kind of thing that will never stop sounding perfect from his lips. 
A final deep kiss shortens into a series of smaller ones, and then he’s pulling away slowly, brushing the corner of your mouth affectionately. 
Both of you require a few deep breaths—a moment to let your sparkling eyes wildly chart each familiar curve and convex and shade and shadow of the other’s face—before either of you can speak. Spencer breaks the silence first. 
“I’m sorry.”
You frown, stirred from your brainless bliss by his unexpected apology. 
“For what?”
The fiery glow in his eyes dampens slightly. 
“For what I said at the bar.”
Oh.
That.
It feels like a lifetime away—memories seen through someone else’s eyes. Words like blows from a less familiar mouth. 
You look away. For a while, you’d forgotten about that. Ideally he wouldn’t have reminded you. 
At least he doesn’t make you look at him. He just strokes your hair, watching you examine the tiled counter. His voice is soft and soothing, like he’s appealing to a scared rabbit. Or maybe something angrier and with more teeth. 
“You’re not immature, or badly behaved, or thoughtless. I was having an emotional reaction, I got defensive, and I lashed out. It was unfair and unkind of me to throw those things back in your face when I know how much trust it takes for you to be vulnerable with me. There’s nothing I can say or do that will adequately make up for that, but I want you to understand that I didn’t say any of it because it was the truth. I said it because I didn’t understand how you were feeling and I was hurt. I was insecure and I acted juvenile. I am so, so sorry, honey. You don’t have to forgive me, but you do need to know that none of it is true.”
Once you bite your lip long enough to be sure you won’t cry again, you speak. 
“It’s okay,” you insist with a cheerfulness as natural as hard plastic, something in your chest twinging. “I was mean too. Like you said, we were both confused.”
“It is not. I made you cry.”
Sometimes you forget that he’s not like other people. He’ll never accept anything less than the barest truth. So you look back up at him and speak with a level of honesty that you hope satisfies him. 
“I forgive you. You didn’t mean it. And I have insurance because Derek said he and Emily would kick your ass if you’re mean to me again.”
You hear the sad humor in his voice. His hand runs up and down your back. 
“If I’m ever mean to you again, I personally invite you to kick my ass. And then let Derek and Emily have their turn.” He thumbs at your cheek, studying you in silence for a moment. “I can’t tell you how much I wish I could take it back.”
You stand up a little straighter. Spencer tracks you with his eyes, noting the way you smile slightly. 
“You’ll find a way to make it up to me.”
“I’ll do anything for you,” he admits, barely a whisper and the truth of it so heavy you can feel it too. 
But for tonight you can’t contend with more weight. 
“You know what you could do right now?”
The mischief in your tone is obvious, and he hesitates, like he’s not sure he wants to let you move on from this so quickly. But eventually he plays along, pressing his thumb into the dip of your back and speaks lowly, just as you’d hoped he would. 
“What’s that?”
You smile slyly. 
“You could kiss me again.”
“Hm… I don’t know, three times in one night? Sounds a little excessive.”
“Do you want to be forgiven or not?” You huff. He smiles lazily, already dipping his head to press his lips to yours. 
“I thought I was already forgiven.”
“Apologies can be retracted.”
“Ah.” His next words are mumbled as his lips ghost yours. “Well we wouldn’t want that.”
Spencer puts you out of your misery, not bothering to warm you up to it before he’s kissing you with a deep need. It’s still languid, and not hungry, exactly—it’s more like an aching, mind-numbing thirst. It’s all-consuming, overwhelming to have all of his burning focus pinpointed on you like this. Both hands come to cup your face and you wonder if he wants you in ways that he doesn’t entirely understand, just as you want him. You wonder if anything could possibly sate this desire to possess him completely and for him to possess you, to trade corporeal forms—or if it’s just something you’ll have to live with like a metaphysical itch you can’t scratch. As he forces you to tip your head back for him, using his height to his advantage, breathing deeply against you and attempting to push himself impossibly closer, you begin to think he understands exactly how you feel. 
As soon as you’d sensed he wanted it, your lips had parted for him. He knows he could have any part of you. He knows how eager you are to give yourself to him. You’ve done everything to prove it, and yet you’ve never needed him quite like you do ask he pushes off the counter and slowly backs you against the wall, protecting your head with a hand as the paintings rattle ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth and he kisses you greedier still, but his hands don’t stray from your cheeks. 
Not until, that is, you hook your right leg around his left, and he catches it, fingers wrapping under the bend of your knee. 
Never in your life have you regretted picking jeans rather than a skirt more than you do right now. 
But to your disappointment, Spencer slows down to a halt—pulling his lips from yours like they’d been stuck by molasses until he’s far enough away to study you wildly, panting just as you are. His hair hangs over his smoldering eyes. He’s disheveled. It’s sexy. 
“What?” You whisper, voice surprisingly hoarse.
He looses a dry, abashed laugh. The flush he’s sporting is incredibly charming. 
“I’m supposed to be playing nice with you.”
Spencer says it like it’s a mild hindrance. Something frissons in your core. You smile a little wider as you continue to catch your breath, which seems to please him. 
“Playing nice?”
“Being gentle. I’m not supposed to push my favorite things against walls when they’re delicate.”
Your face heats at the way he speaks of you—if it weren’t Spencer, if you didn’t know he really doesn’t think of you as an object, you’d be pissed. But instead all you can think about is how good it feels when he calls you his. 
“According to who?”
His eyes dart between yours and then down to your lips several times before he averts them to the wall beside you with an intensity that could burn holes through the plaster. Is that how he looks at you?
“According to me. I think… god, you're going to hate me for this. But I think I need you to kick me out.”
You drop your leg at the same time as you do your heart. 
“What?”
“I know,” he says, over-apologetically, “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that escalate. But we can’t… do anything tonight.” Before you can protest, he rushes to explain himself. “It’s just that it’s been a long day. It’s been a long week, actually, and I doubt either of us have slept very much, and I think you’re really drained, and probably not thinking super clearly. I don’t think you’re in the best place for decision making.”
You look pointedly down to where he still has you pressed to the wall. 
“I think I’m in a great place.”
At that he steps back, but lets his hands find yours and pulls you away from the wall—just not quite as close as before. His nose bumps against yours as he speaks low and sweet. 
“I understand that you want me to stay right now. But it’s not a good idea to associate fighting with physical pleasure. That can set some really dangerous patterns.”
“We’re not fighting,” you plead, matching his tone as you look up at him with big eyes. His fingers lace with yours. 
“You’re right. Maybe fighting was the wrong word. But we had some pretty intense conversations today, didn’t we?”
Reluctantly you nod. 
“Right,” he agrees. “Same premise. We need to be able to have those conversations without getting distracted.”
In a last ditch attempt to get him to change his mind, you give him your best approximation of the imploring, wide-eyed gaze he sometimes uses on you. Something not entirely smile and not entirely smirk twists the corners of his mouth. When he ducks down to kiss you quickly, you reciprocate, but you lack the enthusiasm of earlier. 
“Hey.” 
“Hm,” you respond, dejectedly. 
“Don’t get all grumpy because I don’t put out.”
That puts a disgruntled little smile on your face as he probably knew it would. 
“I guess you just gave it up easy to all those other women.”
He grabs your chin and gives you a final peck. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been with other women.”
“Mhm,” you grumble good-naturedly, pushing away from him and going to the door to undo the deadbolt. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
“Wow. I really must have overstayed my welcome if that’s the goodbye I get.”
You turn back around, brows raised. 
“Oh, I was prepared to be very welcoming. This is your doing.”
“Uh-huh. Come here.”
Happily you skitter back across the few feet of wooden flooring and wrap your arms tightly around him one more time, pressing your cheek to his chest. He’s ready, winding his arms over yours and rubbing your back. It’s eerily similar, you realize as he presses his face into the concave of your shoulder, to when he’d left on that most recent case. 
But at the same time—everything’s different. 
And you won’t make the same mistake twice. 
“Hey,” you smile, resting your head on his shoulder. Spencer pulls back to look at you, a similar grin on his face. 
“Hey what?”
“I remembered what I was gonna say.”
The grin widens. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. 
“Tell me.”
“I was going to tell you that I love you. And—I hope you’re not one of those people who’s uncomfortable being told that often. Because if that’s the case I’m really going to annoy you.”
“I’m not that kind of person,” he assures. “Tell me as often as you can.”
“But you should say it back. It’s more polite that way.”
“I love you,” he murmurs, in a voice more serious than your teasing tones had been but still soft and sweet around the edges. “You know, people talk about love as if it’s completely irrational and illogical. But with you… I think the world actually makes more sense than it used to. I understand things I never did before. You’ve taught me a lot.”
It’s like a lightshow in your stomach. You wonder if he has any idea the effect his casual musings have on you.
“You already knew everything.”
“Not everything,” Spencer whispers. “Not about the things that matter.”
And you’re fresh out of teases. All you can do is look up at him with big eyes again, in awe of the fact that you get to keep him after all. 
“Will you text me when you get home?” You request, voice reverent in the wake of an admission you could never hope to top. 
“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
You nod, because it doesn’t even matter if you had other plans tomorrow. They’re as good as cancelled. 
Spencer kisses your cheek, and you get the sense that things are still being left unfinished. There’s an unresolved tension that you can’t shake, even after all the apologies and kisses and sweet words. Still, he made a point with his talk about not mixing argument with pleasure, and you’d like to respect those wishes because you respect him—even if every atom of your being shakes with desire to keep him locked in your bedroom, hidden away from the world together, for as long as you can possibly manage. 
Eventually, you loosen your hold, and you let him go. He lingers at the door, hands in his pockets, just watching you and mirroring your small smile as you hold onto the counter with an iron grip to keep yourself in check. After he finally peels his gaze away from yours and silently closes the door behind him, you stand there, staring at the wood for at least a minute.
Once you manage to shake yourself from your revery with a deep breath, you grab your glass from earlier and stand in front of the sink, watching it fill with a white jet of water. It’d be a shame to admit it to him, but maybe Spencer is right. Maybe you do need time to emotionally digest today. After all—that was technically your first argument. It seems to have left you sort of wound up. Not in a bad way, per se—maybe you just need to take a shower, let the hot water roll over your shoulders and wash away the frenetic energy that clings to you. 
Still, something tells you that you won’t be getting much sleep tonight, even if you do take the world’s longest shower. You’re simply too high-strung. You wonder if having Spencer here would fix that or make it worse. But ultimately, he’d made the call that it was a bad idea for him to stay, and you’re generally inclined to trust his judgement. 
The thought makes you laugh into your cup as you drink. Even after the debacle that was the past week, you trust him to know what he’s doing. Maybe you need to rethink that, at least temporarily, until he’s had a chance to redeem himself. 
Just then, your front door is opening with absolutely zero warning and slamming shut again before you can finish whipping around. Your heart threatens to choke you and you almost drop your glass, clutching your chest. 
“Jesus, you—”
But the words die in your throat as Spencer storms toward you, shrugging his coat off with a white-hot chill in his eyes. It’s enough to freeze you in place, heart drumming against the confines of your ribs. 
“You really need to start locking that door,” he breathes, tossing his jacket on the counter before grabbing your face and crashing his lips into yours, palms pressed to your jaw and fingers pushing into your hair. You stand there, hands hovering in air before you gain the wherewithal to blindly set the glass down behind you. Your heart is pounding as you immediately submit to the kiss, whining softly against his lips and cautiously seeking stability in the fabric of his shirt. Spencer pulls away only briefly, allowing you to gasp for much-needed air. His brown eyes are like molten gold on you, pupils blown wide and wild as he scans your face, taking heavy breaths of his own. “Anyone could just walk in.”
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suguann · 2 days
Text
LOVE IT WHEN YOU CALL ME LOVER—JJK MEN.
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✎. jjk men showing you how much they love you. | wc. 2k+
tags. fem!reader, window sex, possessive behavior, mirror sex, oral sex, public sex, pregnancy, fingering, praise kink, size kink
featuring. gojo, nanami, geto
masterlist
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↬ GOJO
He doesn’t think you’ve looked more breath-taking than you do right then, humming softly to the music on the radio while painting your toenails, the last stretch of daylight kissing your exposed knees through the window. You’re so lost in your own little world that you don’t notice him watching you.
The important emails on his phone go unanswered, saved for another day when you’re not there to distract him. You stretch your smooth legs to inspect your work and glance across the living room to give him one of those soft smiles that sends warmth through his middle.
“What do you think?” you ask, little sunflower yellow toes flexing on the coffee table. 
“They’re pretty, baby.”
Another smile stretches across your face, that full lower lip caught between your teeth. “You think so?”
“Positive.” His phone lies forgotten on the cushion beside him, and he leans back to make room for you. “Come here.”
His eyes make a lazy trail up from your delicate ankle bone to the soft slope of your collarbone that peeks out from one of his t-shirts as you walk towards him, getting his fill until his fingers itch to touch and retrace the invisible path. 
Gojo can’t help it. He’s struck by the sight of you.
He wishes he could trap the shocked and delighted sound you make when he pulls you into his lap, keep it tucked away in the untainted nooks and crannies for him to return to later. A little melody on repeat for the days he feels undeserving of such sweet things, how he treads the fine line of corrupting that wide-eyed innocence you have of the world.
Still. Still, the truth is, he’s a little greedy, and he doesn’t really care how bad of a person that makes him.
Everyone looks up to him in some way. Nobody ever called him a saint. 
Gojo works out more of those soft sounds—pressing you against the chilly, tall windows in the living room, fist in your hair, and his mouth attached to the long column of your throat—that make his mouth go dry. Your back arches to ease the way he fucks up into you, tits brushing up against the glass, and he loves how the distant city lights below shimmer around you like a halo.
A high-pitched whimper, sharp breaths fogging over the window. “‘Toru people can see.”
He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of how your soft and silky little cunt sucks him in—wrapped up all warm and wet around his cock—cursing under his breath when he tells you he doesn’t care. You’re his, anyway. 
“Let them see,” he grunts into your neck, teeth catching along your skin before licking at the vulnerable spot above your pulse. “Let them see how I fuck you because they can’t have you.”
Gojo can barely control himself at the mere idea that anyone would ever think they could. He’ll be the last and only one to know how you turn into a fucking vice when he hits particularly deep—how you shake like a leaf, legs coltish, after he makes you cum hard. 
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↬ GETO
It feels like the epitome of terrible days: from the tomato stain on your skirt to your boss forcing deadlines down your throat and surprising Suguru at work only to find a pretty, willowy brunette sitting on the corner of his desk, her hand resting on a stack of graded papers, and fluttering her long lashes at him. 
The final nail in the coffin (a stupid nail, but a hammered-down nail nonetheless) is how she laughs and touches his arm, and Suguru doesn’t brush her off. He actually laughs back, all perfectly straight teeth on display and eyes crinkling at the corners. One of those heart-stopping smiles stretching across his face that you foolishly thought were all yours. 
Suddenly, you wonder if it was out of obligation that made him compliment you that morning in your dress—look at you, a kiss to your cheek, I’m going to fucking ruin you—a perfunctory greeting after being together so long (like making coffee or picking out paint), to make you feel better, or if he meant it—
A tap with sticky fingers to your cheek. “C’mon, watch.” 
You feel like you’re looking from the outside in, a spectator with a front-row seat that has your breath catching in your throat at the sight of his spit-slick chin and cheeks resting against the crease where thigh meets hip. He gives you a syrupy grin that tightens something in your stomach like a screw. 
“Not me,” he says, words laced with amusement. 
Hesitantly, your gaze trails up from his to the floor-length mirror perched in front of the bed, and what you see has your fingers sinking into the sheets. 
You can hardly pull your eyes away from how your leg looks draped across his broad, muscular back, making you look so small even though you sit above him. And it’s like Suguru knows what you’re seeing because his grin grows wider. 
“See, look how perfect you are. That woman in the mirror is so fucking pretty, I can’t believe I get to tell everyone she’s mine.” His thumb parts you open for his mouth. “Why would you think you look otherwise, huh?”
“I…don’t know,” you whisper, head a fuzzy mess of weak excuses that evaporate before they even have a chance to make it onto your tongue.
“Hm, that’s not a good enough answer.” 
Your hips twitch when he noses at your clit. 
“Awe, I bet that feels good, huh? I’m gonna show you what happens when you talk bad about my pretty baby,” then he sucks it into his mouth, making you squeal.
He can’t blame you for squeezing your eyes shut at the slick, hot pressure dragging through your folds—shaky fingers tightening in Suguru’s long, dark hair. It feels equally like everything and not nearly enough until he suddenly pulls away, taking that jittery feeling in your belly with him.
“Why’d you—”
“If you look away, I stop.” He chuckles lightly at the little pout you give him before his lips suck at the tender spot near the crease of your thigh, “so watch.”
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↬ NANAMI
After lunch, he drags you across the street where there’s a park for him to set up a picnic blanket under a tree. Kento rests his head on your lap, slipping an arm around your waist and rubbing the sore spot in your lower back from being on your feet for too long. 
It’s all very innocent: him kissing your round pregnant belly, you running your fingers through his soft hair and talking about the latest work gossip. 
You hum when you feel his fingers crawl up your thigh, slowly at first and with no destination, just soft, aimless circles here and there, until the calloused pad of his thumb skirts over the front of your underwear, making you jerk with a small squeak.
“Kento,” you giggle, fingers tightening in his hair. 
He smiles at the scandalized look spreading across your face and leans forward to press another kiss against your stomach.
"Do you trust me?" he asks, hand pushing up your dress. 
You glance around the park to see if anyone is paying attention to the two of you—an elderly couple feeding the ducks frozen peas by the pond, a mother and father playing with their giggling daughter in the grass, college kids throwing a frisbee, all far enough away to be out of earshot (but that’s not the real problem here)—before you look back at your husband. 
“W-what?” you sputter, wide-eyed realization taking over.
He presses another open-mouthed kiss to your thigh. “Do you trust me?”
A soft whine slips past your teeth, the hand not in his hair curling into the blanket. “But everyone will notice because I’m—I’m—”
(A beached whale. An air balloon. A carnival-sized melon. You get the gist.)
“Gorgeous.” He smooths a hand over your bump, open-fondness radiating across his features, the subtle hint of possessiveness there making you shiver. “You look so fucking gorgeous with my baby growing inside you. Let me take care of you.”
“B-but—”
Everything else melts away to the pulsing heat between your legs and your husband groaning from the wetness he finds there. Your shaky thighs fall open wider when his fingers hook under the edge of your underwear (unflattering things worn for comfort over sexual appeal), pulling them aside to run his fingers through your slick seam. 
Pregnancy brain clouds your judgment, and before you can think twice about your actions, how you definitely shouldn’t let Kento eat you out in the middle of a public park, you nod your head. 
His lips ghost over the tender flesh of your upper thigh. "I need to hear you say it."
It’s a low and shaky yes that has his fingers finally sinking into you to the third knuckle, steadily pumping in and out of you. You buck down onto his hand, trying to bite back the moan threatening to alert everyone in the park of the head under your skirt.
“You’re going to cum for me, just like this,” Kento tells you, voice muffled by a layer of powder blue cotton. “Alright, darling?” 
974 notes · View notes
ja3yun · 13 hours
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To, Future You | S.JY
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sim jaeyun x fem!reader warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f. rec), fingering, spitting, body worshipping, whimpering and whiney jake, mutual pining, confessions, mentions of alcohol, anti-men in some parts, not proof-read anything else lmk! wc: 16.1k synopsis: in your fourth year of secondary school, your home room teacher made you write a 'to future you' letter to someone in your class. while you had no idea who to write it to, sim jaeyun knew exactly who would receive his letter. he just never expected it to actually come through 10 years later. a/n: hi! so this was something that has been sitting in the back of my mind for a while. i saw a tiktok that was someone writing a confession letter and ten years later receiving it so that is the inspo (pls if anyone knows it please send me the link so i can tag it!) i hope you enjoy this, after i post this i am taking a little break and stepping back so i can focus on my heeseung series! there might be some random fics here and there but i wont be posting as much (sorry!) as always, feedback, likes, reblogs, and comments are all welcome <3 ilysm
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Your phone vibrates on your cluttered office desk, a blessed interruption from the mundane chore of sifting through emails. With a sigh, you pick it up, expecting yet another spam message or discount offer. However, as you enter your pin and swipe down the notification, your curiosity piques, and your posture straightens instinctively, uncrossing your legs and firmly planting both feet on the ground.
The screen displays the sender as 'To Future You'. Memories flood back from a decade ago when your teacher, Mr. Yang, initiated a unique project in your fourth year of secondary school. Instead of the typical 'what I think will happen in 10 years' pitch, Mr. Yang offered a more intriguing idea that got the students on board.
Your class was tasked with writing letters to someone else in the class, detailing how you perceived them then and what you believed they would become in the future. Mr. Yang's intention was to leave everyone with a lasting memory, knowing that some would stay for fifth and sixth years, while others would move on to college or the workforce.
He didn’t pair you all up, leaving you to your own devices; it could be a friend or someone random, the only stipulation being that it was someone from your home room.
Honestly, you hadn’t given it much thought at the time, sending one to the girl next to you with hopes that her dreams would come true. All your friends were in different classes, so you couldn’t even enthusiastically engage with the exercise.
However, you never expected to get one yourself. Your home room was filled with the popular girls and guys who were a world away from you and your quiet life. While they were out partying and having fun, you were studying to get into University, promising yourself a life of fun after you had graduated with friends you made along the way.
Of course, that’s not how it worked and you found yourself in a job you hated with bosses who make sly remarks about you and your competency even though you are much better at your job than any of these middle-aged losers. What’s that song from Bowling For Soup? High School Never ends, and by fuck were they right.
So as you stare at the unread email, you brace yourself for the torment from school to haunt you now as a 26-year-old. There was one girl from class who hated you, convinced that you ratted her out for smoking in the girls’ bathroom, which by the way, you had no part in; perhaps this letter is cursing you out wrongfully one final time.
Yet, the letter is not anything of the sort, leaving your palms sweaty at the unexpected turn.
Hi, Y/N.
How are you doing? From the looks of it, you’re struggling with what to write. Me too if I am being honest. This is a bit weird, isn’t it? I feel so strange writing these words when you're just a few seats away.
Anyway, hi again!
I don't know why I'm pouring my thoughts out to you of all people, but…I trust you. You’re genuinely nice and kind to everyone, even when others aren't :( sorry about that, by the way, for my friends. They can be real pissheads, and I personally hope they live unfulfilling lives. Once I leave next month, I pray I never have to see them ever again.
Is that too harsh? 
Sorry, I should get back on track. You look super pretty today! I noticed you got a new bracelet. Was it for your birthday? Come to think of it, your birthday must have just passed if you're receiving this 10 years later, so happy 26th birthday, I guess! It’s so strange to imagine you as a 26 year old, or me for that matter lol.
I’m supposed to predict what I see your life like in the future, right? I think you’re an amazing lawyer (that is what you’re going to study at University, isn’t it?) I peer-reviewed one of your English papers once and you made me totally change my mind on The Woman in Black, I mean, she shouldn’t have tormented him but she was also grieving. I knew then that you could see the good in everyone, exactly what a good lawyer should be. Umm…you’re probably happily living with your husband who you met in a lecture and bonded over some conversation about how to save the world or what near extinct animal you should fundraise for.
I’m jealous of him just thinking about it.
Can I make a confession? Since I don’t think we’ll miraculously become friends and you’ll somehow read this while I sit beside you. It’s actually the real reason I’m writing this to you (I lied earlier about not knowing, I just didn’t know if I would say this part lol.)
I like you, as in, like you - like you. I have since first year when you walked into homeroom with your hair tied up and your Hello Kitty backpack. I might even be in love with you, as much as a 16 year old boy can be. You’re so passionate and beautiful that I can’t keep my eyes off you. Even now in the computer room, I’m staring straight at you and you haven’t even looked my way once. It always goes like this but I don’t blame you for it, don’t worry! It’s my fault, I should stop being a coward and ask you out, or at least try and be friends with you.
I’m leaving at the end of fourth year, I hate this place, to be honest. I have no idea what I am going to do or who I am and I’m scared as fuck. I wish in another life I could have you by my side through adulthood. I think it’s the only way I can cope, it’s the only reason I survived this hellhole. One look at you, and I feel safe, like the world isn’t crashing down on me. That’s weird, isn’t it? To think that about someone you don’t speak to.
This is coming off as creepy, like I don’t stalk you or anything, don’t worry. I just can’t express my feelings well but I guess it’s as simple as:
I think I love you, I hope no matter what happens in the future you have the life you deserve, and if I do happen to build up the courage at the end of the year to confess and you fall in love with me and I am in fact that husband I spoke about earlier (although way cooler and less of a knob) then do not speak about this lol.
Take care of yourself, Y/N. The world is so much brighter with you in it.
~ Your secret admirer.
LOL imagine I left you hanging like that :P 
~ It’s Jaeyun (Sim, not Lee)
You stare blankly at your phone screen, the words swirling before your eyes like a whirlpool of emotions. A tidal wave crashes over you, leaving you paralysed in your seat, suspended in a moment of disbelief and regret. It's as if time itself has come to a standstill, and the world around you fades into insignificance as you grapple with the weight of Jaeyun's confession.
How could you not have noticed? How could you have been so blind to his feelings, so oblivious to the subtle signs of affection that now seem painfully obvious in hindsight? Jaeyun, of all people, someone who had offered you a smile while his friend group glared at you, or how he volunteered to be your dancing partner during PE, all that time you figured he was doing it to mock you when in fact, he was someone who had seen you for who you truly were when others merely glanced over you.
Jaeyun had been there all along, quietly observing, silently hoping for a chance to make his feelings known.
And you wish he did because out of all the popular students in your year, he was the one you would have been opened to. You had a crush on him like any girl does in their youth, but that's all you thought it was, an unrequited crush that could never be anything more than that. Yet, here he was telling you he liked you, so casually, in a letter he wrote at 16.
In his predictions, he was right about one thing - you are a lawyer, a damn good one at that. It’s amazing how he even knew that considering you don’t remember telling him nor did you share any inclination with even your friends that you were planning to go to Uni for it. It wasn’t for any reason other than usually when you tell someone you are going to do something, you end up never achieving it. 
However, he missed the mark on the marriage front. Between the demands of University and your intensive full-time job, which frequently spills over into overtime, your romantic life has mostly consisted of fleeting Tinder dates and occasional hookups. Yet, it's not a life steeped in sorrow, marriage and children have never ranked high on your list of priorities, so you harbour no discontentment with your current relationship status, not really...
Suppressing the lump in your throat, you resort to the timeless ritual that any single woman in her mid-twenties indulges in upon discovering that someone from high school had an interest in her, particularly when she once found him undeniably attractive and frequently mentioned him to her closest friends back in the day: you embark on an Instagram stalking expedition, naturally.
Abandoning your pile of emails and the documents of your current case, you cast aside all distractions in a quest for Jaeyun. Despite only sharing a couple of conversations with him that linger in your memory, you're compelled to uncover what he's been up to. Typing his name into the search bar, you hold your breath, hoping that finding him won't prove too difficult given his distinctive name.
Thankfully, user simjakeyun emerges with ease, and in no time, you find yourself perusing his profile.
There he is, just as you recall him - those beguiling puppy eyes you once avoided now ensnaring you with their warmth, and that infectious smile rendering him ageless. As you delve into his world, you're entranced by the adventures he shares and the moments he has captured. His life appears so rich and fulfilling that you can't help but feel a pang of contrast with the dreary confines of your current office.
As you scroll, you see how he is embracing life to its fullest, travelling the world and seeing countries you can’t even point out on a map, all while you find yourself tethered to the prison of your office walls for hours on end. It's not that you despise your own life, but in this moment of comparison, a sense of discontentment begins to gnaw at you.
There are a few girls on his page but none that are consistent, with no wedding ring and no kids, you wonder whether it’s worth dropping him a message. 
Are you really going to slide into Sim Jaeyun’s DMs? Yes. Yes, you are.
Creating a new private message, you hesitate, staring at his profile picture at the top of the screen. That beautiful smile makes you second-guess yourself. Why would he care about a silly little message from you? He’s out there striving and thriving, while your Instagram chronicles the life of a busy lawyer with only two close friends and an obvious wine addiction due to the countless glasses that makes frequent appearances.
You linger on the message screen, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. The doubts swirl in your mind, but something pushes you forward. Taking a deep breath, you begin to type.
"Hey Jaeyun, it's been ages! I just stumbled across your profile and couldn't resist saying hi. It looks like you've been on some incredible adventures. How have you been?"
You pause, re-reading the message. It feels both too casual and overly formal at the same time. With a sigh, you delete the last sentence and try again. Your mind is screaming at you not to bring up the letter, yet it might be the only way to get a response. At the end of the day, he was right - you weren’t friends in school, so why pretend you were just to start a conversation? Surely, that would make him think you were a weirdo.
But he told you he might be in love you, and you’ve gone ten years without knowing. Bringing it up could be the key to getting a genuine reaction from him, but it could also backfire spectacularly. He might recoil, feel uncomfortable, and even block you completely. You know you'd have that reaction if the roles were reversed.
Taking a deep breath, you decide to take the plunge. You start typing a new message, carefully choosing your words.
Hi Jaeyun! I don’t know if you remember me but the funniest thing just happened. Do you remember Mr. Yang made us write those letters to someone in the class that would be sent ten years later? I got one today…from you, actually! You probably won’t remember but  I thought I would let you know that I got it and thank you :) 
You hesitate before hitting send, re-reading it over and over again to avoid spelling mistakes and accidentally telling him that he told you he loved you. As the message goes through, your heart races and a mix of anxiety and anticipation swirls inside you. This is a leap of faith, and all you can do now is wait.
_____
Unfortunately, all you do is wait because it's been two days, and Jaeyun hasn't replied. The silence is deafening, amplifying your doubts and fears. You replay the message over and over in your mind, wondering if you said too much or too little.
It has to be because you mentioned the letter; he probably has a girlfriend. It wouldn't be uncommon for a guy as gorgeous as him to be snapped up quickly. He probably has one of those stunning girlfriends with long blonde hair and a figure straight out of Vogue.
You try to push the thoughts aside, but they persist, gnawing at you. Doubts mingle with vivid imaginations of his perfect life, further widening the gap between your reality and the fantasy you've constructed. Much like he passively fantasised about the prospect of being your husband all those years ago, you now find yourself lying on your couch, imagining what it would be like to be his wife.
The images in your mind are vivid and alluring: travelling the world together, exploring new places, sharing laughs and quiet moments. You picture the two of you living in a charming apartment, hosting dinner parties, and supporting each other through life's ups and downs. The fantasy is intoxicating, but it also leaves you feeling a bit hollow as you contrast it with your current life. 
Why are you thinking about all of that about a man you haven't seen or cared about in 10 years? Are you really that desperate, wallowing over what could have been when you had practically forgotten about him?
The more you dwell on it, the more you realise how much you've let his lack of response affect you. Deciding that it's time to regain control of your thoughts, you put your phone aside and focus on something productive. You dive into cleaning your house, finally discarding the takeaway boxes and clothes thrown around the room.
As you clean, the physical activity provides a welcome distraction and a sense of accomplishment. You clear the clutter, creating a more organised and inviting space. Each piece of trash you throw away and each item you put back in its place helps you feel more in control. The mess around you had mirrored the turmoil in your mind, and now, with each cleaned surface, you feel a bit more at peace.
You remind yourself of your strengths and the life you've built. Your career, your friends, your favourite plant that you bought on a whim - all these things are a testament to the vibrant and dynamic life you lead. You're not defined by a response from Jaeyun.
His life is not yours and yours is not his. You are an independent-
*ping*
Leaping over your couch, you unlock your phone and see the Instagram notification and smile brightly, like it was a job offer you’ve been patiently awaiting or an early release of your favourite manga.  The rush of anticipation and excitement courses through you as you eagerly open the app to read Jaeyun's message.
Hey there! Sorry about the delay in getting back to you. I've been on a marathon journey back from the UK over the past few days. Opted for the budget ticket, and obviously, it turned into a 36-hour saga with three stopovers 😅. But hey, I'm finally back home! 
It's genuinely awesome to hear from you! Can you believe that letter actually made its way to you? I half-suspected it was some scheme Mr. Yang cooked up to sneak a smoke break with Mr. Kim lol.
I remember writing that letter! I said a few things in there...didn’t I? 😳 So, are you still in town? We should totally catch up tomorrow if you're free. I'm all yours if you'll have me.
Your heart skips a beat as you read Jaeyun's message, a rush of excitement coursing through you. His casual tone and mention of the letter bring a smile to your face. It's a relief to see that he's not put off or weirded out by your message; instead, he seems genuinely happy to hear from you. 
His apparent recollection of what he said in the letter adds a layer of complexity to the situation. He may want to meet up to address it, perhaps to clarify that it was meant as a joke or to downplay its significance. You find yourself mentally preparing for the possibility of him saying something along the lines of, "Hey, sorry, that was just a joke, so please don't read into it."
While you tell yourself that you'll accept his explanation, deep down, you know that these past two days have shown that you may not take it as casually as you initially thought. If a simple message, or lack thereof, got you in such a tizzy, you can't imagine how you'd react to a rejection of a confession that you didn't even make.
Regardless, you type your response rapidly, not caring if it makes you look desperate and available.
You must be exhausted after travelling! But I'm glad you made it back home safe and sound. I'm free tomorrow. Can you do after 6pm? There's this cosy cafe downtown that's perfect for catching up, it’s called Daisies. I'll make sure to save you a seat. Looking forward to it! 
With a quick tap, you send the message, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness about tomorrow's meeting. However, you don’t get long to be alone with your thoughts as another ping of your phone comes through.
Do they do double Jack and Cokes? I think I might need it if I remember what I wrote lol…😅
In all honesty, you might need one as well.
_____
Straightening the napkins on the table for the seventh time in the space of an hour, you watch the door patiently, anticipation coursing through your veins, waiting for Jaeyun to walk through the glass door of the bar you had both settled on. Each of you knew that you wouldn’t be able to have this conversation without some form of alcohol.
It’s not that you’re nervous about seeing him again; after all, you used to see him every day. But it's the weight of the conversation that looms over you. The realisation that the first real conversation you are going to have with him throughout all these years is about a letter he confessed to you in - a letter never meant for you to read because he thought it was a hoax assignment. His actions, unintentional as they may have been, have consequences, and you can't shake the uncertainty of it all.
As the minutes tick by, each second feels heavier than the last. You find yourself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, replaying scenarios and conversations in your mind, trying to predict how tonight's encounter might unfold. Will Jaeyun be as casual and friendly as his messages suggested, or will there be an underlying tension lingering beneath the surface?
The sound of the door opening snaps you out of your reverie, and you glance up, heart pounding, only to find it's just another punter entering the bar. You let out a sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly, but the anticipation remains palpable.
You take a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm and composed. This is just Sim Jaeyun, not an ex, not a lost lover, not your dad’s work colleague—there is nothing to be nervous about.
“Y/N?”
Jaeyun’s melodious voice breaks through your thoughts, and you look up to meet his gaze with wide eyes, startled by his sudden appearance. How on earth did he manage to slip through that door without you noticing? The surprise registers on your face as you take in his presence, a mix of amusement and disbelief dancing in your eyes.
"Jaeyun, hey!" you exclaim, your voice betraying your surprise as it breaks, forcing you to clear the bubble in your throat and quickly regain your composure. “I mean, when did you get here?”
He laughs loudly, the rich sound filling the room as he takes the seat opposite to you. The genuine warmth of his smile is infectious, closing his eyes slightly as he enjoys the moment. “Just a minute ago, I went up to the bar first to order us a drink. You like white wine, yeah?”
Nodding, you tilt your head, intrigued. “Yeah, how did you know that?”
“I saw you started without me,” Jaeyun chuckles once again, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he points to your empty glass, “I made an educated guess.”
You can't help but marvel at Jaeyun's appearance. His features are striking, his smile infectious, and there's a certain magnetism about him that draws you in. It's as if he effortlessly commands attention without even trying. A face that gorgeous shouldn’t be allowed to roam so freely, you think to yourself. It should come with a warrant, or at the very least a warning label.
He’s also wearing a pretty cream jacket with a simple white Stussy t-shirt, and some cargo jeans. His hair is much longer than when he was younger, with whisps of his fringe covering his face. 
It’s parallel to your business-casual outfit, having just come from the office you decided to opt for a baby pink blouse - in honour of your hero Elle Woods, a cream thigh-length skirt, and a pair of kitten heels. It wasn’t exactly how you wished to dress while meeting Jaeyun again for the first time but due to having consultation with clients, you couldn’t exactly wear a little black dress.
Not that Jaeyun minds; as you’re lost in thought, his eyes are tracing over your body, how your clothes look tailor-made and your tits are sitting beautifully. He feels like a perv for staring at you, this is the first time he’s seen you in so long and here he is, eye fucking you. Though who could blame him? Even as he focuses on your face, forcing his eyes to leave the contours of your curves, all he can stare at is your lips and how they’ve been freshly glossed.
Clearing his throat, Jaeyun tries to shake off the inappropriate thoughts flooding his mind. "So, how have you been?" he asks, his smile innocent yet tinged with nervousness.
"Good. Yeah, good. You?" you respond, keeping your tone neutral, not revealing too much about your well-being. To you, your life is boring and lacks anything worth speaking about.
"Yeah...good," Jaeyun replies, the awkward tension between you palpable in the air.
The atmosphere strange, a tense undercurrent clouding the breezy air. Being alone with him, even being with him at all, feels unfamiliar and stirs a tinge of awkwardness in you. Luckily, he seems just as uneasy.
But when your eyes finally meet, you both burst out laughing, the tension melting away. The sound of your harmonious laughter fills the bar, louder than the soft hum of music or the chatter of others in the background.
His laugh is just as infectious as you remember it, filling the air with its higher-pitched squeals that seem to come in four successions. You watch with fondness as his body leans to the side, his eyes scrunching together in pure joy. It's a sight you hadn't realised you missed until now, a flood of memories rushing back to you in an instant. You hadn't known you knew that about him - the way he laughs, the way he tilts his head when he finds something amusing - but now, it's like a long-lost memory has suddenly resurfaced, and you're hateful to yourself for ever forgetting.
He straightens up, shaking his head to calm his amusement, yet the smile still beams from his face. Huffing out, he nods and looks at you, as though agreeing with his thoughts. “You know, I just realised that we haven’t ever spoken, so this is a bit awkward, isn’t it?”
Shaking your head, you lean forward, your fingers deftly smoothing out the tiniest wrinkle in your shirt as you relax, feeling your body shift with the new atmosphere. “That isn’t true, we had that conversation during country dancing classes.”
“Oh, you mean, ‘Can you not step on my foot, please?’ I would hardly count it as a conversation,” he dismisses it lightheartedly, offering you another chuckle as he remembers.
What he doesn’t know is that you do count it. It was your first proper encounter with him, and even though he kept squashing your toe under his tatty trainers, you let it go because it was also the first time you heard that melodic Australian accent say your name as he mumbled a quick, ‘sorry, Y/N’.
You both laugh again at the memory before the waiter brings over your drinks. “Cheers, mate. Thanks.” Jaeyun smiles politely at the man. It’s the bare minimum to thank your server, yet you can’t stop the butterflies in your stomach as he does so. It’s a testament to his kindness because most of the guys you have ever dated have been the type to snap their fingers or complain about the tiniest thing that could easily be fixed.
Not Jaeyun though, he is far too sweet to act like an arsehole. You haven’t even spent 10 minutes with him and you already know it.
As the waiter walks away, you reach for your wine before stopping for a beat, looking at it thoughtfully. There is a slice of lemon inside the glass, the sight peculiar not because you don’t like it, but rather because you do like it. It’s not conventional to have any garnishes on wine; most connoisseurs say that the wine is already perfect as made. But you like things extra bitter and everything citrus; it’s been this way since college.
You glance at Jaeyun as he sips his Jack and Coke, his attention solely on his drink, seemingly oblivious to your curiosity. Could he have known you liked wine this way? But how? It’s not like you brought a 125ml and a wedge to school. And you certainly don’t come here frequently enough for the bartender to remember you or your order.
The thought niggles at the back of your mind as you take another sip of your wine, mulling over the possibilities. Perhaps it's just a coincidence, you tell yourself, trying to rationalise the situation. But it also isn’t a big deal, you got what you wanted without asking for it which is a very rare occurrence, so you’ll take it and run.
Setting the thought aside, you indulge in a sip of the crisp wine, a contented hum escaping your lips as you enjoy the taste. With a playful shoulder dance, you set the glass down on the table. “So, how has life been since you left school?” you ask casually, even though as you glance up at him, you catch him licking the residue of his drink from his lips and it makes your body flush with heat. 
Your gaze lingers for a moment longer than intended, a fleeting moment of admiration as you catch the subtle details of his expression.
“Really…amazing actually,” he begins, his voice laced with a sense of joy as a broad smile lights up his face. “When I left, I didn’t know what I wanted to do, so I just got a part-time job, saved up enough to travel and see my brother back in Australia, and from there...just travelled. I did odd jobs to make money, enough to pay rent for a few months at each place.”
As Jaeyun speaks, you can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy creeping into your thoughts. His carefree lifestyle, filled with adventure and spontaneity, sounds like a dream compared to your own mundane existence of endless paperwork and court cases.
“Wow, that sounds incredible,” you respond, trying to mask the envy in your voice with genuine interest. “Must have been amazing to just pick up and go wherever you want.”
Jaeyun nods enthusiastically, his eyes alight with the memories of his adventures. “It is liberating, honestly. I’ve learned so much about myself and the world. It was good for me, it turned out to be exactly what I needed.”
He takes another sip of his JD, his expression shifting to one of apology as he notices the dejected look on your face. “But what about you? Aren’t you a fancy lawyer now? That’s way more impressive than a country-hopper.”
You know he's just trying to be polite, but his words only serve to magnify your own feelings of inadequacy. In no world is your tiresome job and lack of social life anywhere near as impressive as what he has managed to accomplish in 10 years.
Taking a big swig of your drink, you bob your head from side to side, downplaying the enormity of your profession. “Yeah, it’s okay. It pays well and I do love it some days. I work in corporate law, so it isn’t as exciting as I would have liked.”
“You wanted to do immigration law, right?” Jaeyun asks, his tone is casual but his question catches you off guard.
You pause, your eyes narrowing with scepticism as you look at him. It's one thing for him to recall your career aspirations, but for him to remember the specific field you were interested in seems almost uncanny. After all, you never spoke about it except in your university applications. So unless he had some insider knowledge, there's no reason for him to know such specific details.
Nodding slowly, you set your wine glass down and lean back. “Yeah… how did you know that? I never told anyone about it.”
“I guess I'm just quite the observer,” he jokes, though there's a hint of sheepishness in his tone as he scratches the back of his neck. He curses himself inwardly for being so casual about a minute detail that he knows he shouldn’t know. “I actually, uh, I saw you checking out an Immigration Law and Social Justice book one day. Figured that’s what you wanted to do.”
Jaeyun wasn’t lying; that really was how he knew. It was just before summer break, and he was returning his physics books when he noticed you in front of him, a pile of books in one arm, the first one being about immigration law.
You look up to the ceiling, a smile of understanding spreading across your face as you let out a contented 'oh', finally piecing together the mystery. "That makes sense now. I was so confused when you wrote about me going on to become a lawyer in that letter because I could have sworn I never uttered a word to anyone."
“That’s right! I predicted you would be a snooty lawyer,” he exclaims, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he lightly bangs his fist on the table. His chuffed grin widens, spreading across his face like he's just won the first question on a quiz show. 
Laughing, you nod in agreement. You don’t tell him that he never called you snooty because he also isn’t wrong as he adds the adjective. Although you’re easy going outside of the office, you hold yourself with high pride while at work, looking down on the men you work with. Perhaps you would be more kind if they weren’t gigantic arseholes with no morals.
So in that sense, yes, yes you are snooty.
“You also said I would be married with kids,” you point out, a chuckle escaping your lips as you recall the absurdity of the prediction.
“So? Did I get two for two?” Jaeyun retorts, a playful twinkle in his eyes as he wiggles his eyebrows. Beneath his casual demeanour, though, a subtle flutter stirs in his heart at the mention of a husband. He wants you to be happy, obviously - why wouldn’t he? But he can’t deny the pang of jealousy that tugs at him at the prospect of you being happy with another man.
You notice the subtle shift in Jaeyun's manner, the conflict between his words and the emotion flickering in his eyes, but you choose to let it pass without comment. Instead, you simply shake your head and lift your eyebrows, taking another sip of your white wine. If you don’t slow down, you’ll be finished five of these before Jaeyun has even made a dent in his first drink.
He audibly gasps at your silent confession, his surprise evident in the way his eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly. As much as he had hoped you wouldn’t have a man waiting for you at home, he can’t believe that you don’t. 
“Seriously? I would have thought someone would have snapped you up in a heartbeat,” he admits, still flabbergasted that the bright and beautiful woman sitting before him is, in fact, single.
“Nope. I guess it’s just like high school,” you say, shrugging nonchalantly as you downplay the situation. Despite trying to be casual about it all, a hint of vulnerability lingers beneath the surface. You know how it looks, being in your mid-twenties and never having been in a serious relationship. It has made you wonder countless times about what could possibly be so repulsive that men don’t want to pursue a relationship with you.
But then you remember the richness of your life - a nice cosy flat, paying all your own bills, having friends who love you unconditionally, and a supportive family who stands by every decision you make. In the grand scheme of things, your life is fulfilling in its own right, far beyond the confines of a romantic relationship.
It doesn’t mean you don’t sometimes feel like you’re missing out though, but you've come to appreciate the career-driven journey that is yours alone.
Jaeyun's laughter fills the air, warm and genuine, but there's a certain intensity in his gaze as he looks you dead in the eyes. His iris’, a shade of deep brown flecked with golden hues, seem to hold a wealth of unspoken words, as if there's something he's yearning to express beyond the surface banter.
“Like high school? As in you’re too busy to notice people looking your way?” he quips, his voice light but tinged with a hint of vulnerability. There's a subtle shift in the atmosphere, a silent recognition of the unspoken truths dancing between you due to one letter.
This damn letter.
“You did mention how you would always look at me. Although, you made it very clear you were not a stalker,” you remark with a snort of laughter, thinking back to the playful disclaimer he had included in his letter. The tension between you dissipates slightly as you both chuckle loudly with one another much like before.
Even when the air is awkward, you both still manage to find comfort in it. Perhaps it’s because you both share feelings that none of you are aware of. As far as you’re concerned, he left those feelings behind in secondary school, and he thinks you’ve never cared about him at all.
Jaeyun covers his face as the memories invade his mind of writing and re-writing the paragraph to make you abundantly aware that he did not sit outside your house at night and watch you through the window - a sentence which was in the first draft - or that he didn’t transfer classes to National 3 Maths to be close to you - even though he did and he should have graduated high school with National 5, sacrificing his academic standing just to have the seat close to yours.
“Can I read it? I need to know what I should specifically be apologising for,” Jaeyun titters, his voice muffled by the palms of his hands as he peeks through his fingers at you. The request hangs in the air, laced with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, as if he's both eager and apprehensive to revisit the words he had penned so long ago.
Reaching for your phone in your bag, you nod, trifling through the empty wrappers of gum and secret chocolate bars you sneakily eat in the office. The last time you ate your well-deserved Mars bar, your boss made a snide comment about how you must be starting your period soon. It’s men like him that make Jaeyun’s bare minimum of thanking the waiter a much-needed standard.
You retrieve your phone and open up the letter, passing it to him which he awkwardly accepts, smiling apologetically at you already for whatever 16-year-old him thought was appropriate to say. He begins to scroll, his face changing from amusement to disdain and then back to amusement. Yet one solid feature is etched on his face the entire time, hiding behind the other emotions he is portraying but you can’t figure it out.
You observe Jaeyun as he clicks the phone to lock it, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face before he passes it back to you. There's a hint of apprehension in his eyes, mingled with a quiet resignation, yet he does what Jaeyun does best; he smiles and washes his true feelings away.
“It was even more cringe-worthy than I remember, I seriously gotta apologise that you had to read all of that,” he says with a self-deprecating chuckle, his tone light but carrying a hint of genuine remorse. It's his way of deflecting, of downplaying his confession, but you can't help but sense the underlying sincerity beneath his words.
"I honestly thought it was a joke when I opened it and saw your name," you admit softly, wary of your words. You don't want him to think you found his feelings laughable, but rather that receiving a love letter at all was the punchline, particularly back then.
Contrary to his portrayal in the letter, you didn't consider yourself pretty or beautiful in high school. You felt average, plagued by acne, with scars that still dot your face as lingering reminders. Your hair was often a mess, your face untouched by makeup, and you never settled on a style, finding them all too mismatched with your personality.
Upon hearing your confession, Jaeyun's eyes widen in disbelief. "Seriously? Why?"
You shrug, picking up your glass and swirling it thoughtfully before responding. "You were with Chris and the others, and let's be honest, they weren't exactly my best friends," you scoff, recalling the snide comments his friends used to make in passing, or the 'accidental' bumps that would cause you to drop your phone or books.
There is a pregnant pause in the air as Jaeyun's expression softens with understanding, a hint of regret shadowing his features. "I'm sorry you had to deal with all that," he murmurs, genuine remorse colouring his tone.
You offer a small, dismissive wave of your hand, attempting to brush off the memories. "Water under the bridge now," you say, though the bitterness still lingers beneath the surface. It wasn’t his fault; he had no control over his friends' actions, and in hindsight, he was the one in the group who never laughed at your discomfort or instigated trouble for you. He was always there to offer you an apologetic smile when you needed it.
Back then, it was hard to see him as an individual from the others, considering he was always by their side. But in retrospect you realise that your crush on him had been rooted in an unspoken recognition of his genuine and kind nature, even if in high school you couldn’t fully see it. You never hated him, the opposite in fact, and there was a reason for that.
A chuckle escapes Jaeyun's lips, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "If it makes you feel better, I got my wish," he says, laughter lacing his words as he knocks back the rest of his drink. "Half of them peaked in school, and Chris is divorced and balding as we speak."
You can't help but laugh along with him, the irony not lost on you. "Well, karma works in mysterious ways," you quip, raising your glass in a mock toast to the twists of fate.
Jaeyun grins, clinking his glass against yours. "Cheers to that."
Settling comfortably back in your seat, you smile fondly at him. Despite the heaviness of the conversation, you feel at ease. There’s something about him that makes you feel safe, a sense that no matter what’s going on in your mind, he can calm you down. You recall his words in the letter, how he could look at you and instantly feel better.
Jaeyun's gaze holds a gentle intensity, his eyes sparkling with a glint of satisfaction as he observes your visibly relaxed state. "It's nice seeing you like this," he murmurs softly, a hint of warmth lacing his voice. "I always hoped we'd have a moment like this someday."
You hum softly, grinning sheepishly at the prospect that Sim Jaeyun could have thought about you even after your school years. It does beg the elephant in the room to be addressed, however, both of you sneaking around the main focus of his written word.
"In the letter," you begin, feeling a curious mix of apprehension and anticipation swirl in your chest. The question hovers on the tip of your tongue, laden with the weight of untold possibilities. "Why didn’t you ask me out?"
The inquiry catches Jaeyun off guard, momentarily stalling his easy demeanour. He blinks, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he recovers with a thoughtful expression. It's evident that he hadn't anticipated such directness from you, despite knowing your inquisitive nature all too well.
Straightening out his jacket with a nervous flick, Jaeyun adjusts his posture to convey a sense of faux confidence. He clears his throat and licks his lips, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "I shouldn’t have been a coward," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.
Jaeyun's candid admission bubbles shock into you, yet you find it refreshing coming from a man. You nod in understanding, silently acknowledging his confession.
"You were just…you," he says, meeting your eyes with candour. "Smart, attractive, career-oriented, and determined to change the world. And I was just a screwy little kid with no life aspirations and nothing to offer a girl like you."
His words resonate within you, with a genuine honesty that is both disarming and charming. Despite his self-deprecating tone, you can't help but be empathic to the vulnerability he's exhibiting.
"I didn't see you that way," you say, your voice soft but genuine, hoping to convey that you never considered him beneath you. In your view, you could never be on his level, not in a negative sense, but in the understanding that he exuded charisma and confidence that seemed out of reach. Your personalities were too contrasting, with him being cool and outgoing, while you felt you would have fallen short.
Jaeyun lets out a rueful laugh, a wry smile playing on his lips. "You didn't see me at all, did you?" he replies, his tone carrying a mix of self-awareness and resignation.
His words hit you like a blow to the chest, a painful realisation dawning upon you. You wince, feeling yourself crumble inward, the weight of missed opportunities and unspoken truths bearing down heavily on your shoulders. If you had stuck your head out of your own bubble, maybe you would be sitting and having a drink with him as something more than high school could haves.
"I'm sorry about that," you say, your voice laced with regret. "I was so focused on studying and staying away from your crowd that I just didn't see."
Jaeyun's expression softens, his features reflecting a mixture of empathy and knowing. "It's alright," he says gently, reaching out to place a comforting hand on yours. “The way you were back then, it was exactly the reason I lo-, I liked you so much,” he confesses sheepishly, stumbling over his words as he skirts around the most obviously avoided topic of his letter.
Shaking off the intensity of the moment, Jaeyun gestures for the waiter to return, his easy smile returning as he orders more drinks, figuring that if he’s sipping, he isn’t saying something he might regret. 
“So, tell me about being a lawyer.”
_____
For the next three hours, you both speak about everything and anything; from his adventurous travels to your disastrous dates, from your awful bosses to the state of the government, you discuss it all. Each topic seamlessly flows into another, and you find yourself conversing with ease, as if you're best friends on your weekly catch up.
As the evening progresses, you've shared stories, laughter, and even a few moments of vulnerability. The wine has flowed freely, the bottle emptying with each heartfelt story, while Jaeyun has indulged in his fair share of Jack and Coke, the familiar burn of the alcohol helping to dissolve any lingering feelings of apprehension.
Despite the passage of time and the years spent apart, it feels as though no time has passed at all. You find yourself effortlessly connecting with Jaeyun, discovering new facets of his personality with each shared anecdote and heartfelt confession. You wonder if you would have gotten along this well in secondary school.
"Is this you back for good then or?" you ask, the wine buzz kicking into your system enough to make you lean forward, resting your chin on your hand as you gaze at him with an undercurrent of longing.
Jaeyun's expression softens, his eyes never meeting yours but they shine with a hint of something you cannot put your finger on. "I'm actually going to Malta the day after tomorrow. This was just a flying visit," he replies, his tone tinged with a sense of wistfulness.
The news comes as bittersweet to you because just as you had Jaeyun within reach, he is also leaving you just as quickly. But you’re also envious that while you have to get up early and represent people in a boardroom who only see value in money and nothing else, he is galavanting to another dream destination.
"Ugh, I am so jealous!" you proclaim, unable to hide the playful pout that forms on your lips. Your declaration elicits a hearty laugh from Jaeyun, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he shakes his head, seemingly amused by the idea of someone successful like you being envious of him.
Because little do you know, that behind the facade of excitement of his adventures lies a loneliness he's kept hidden for years. He couch surfs, has little money to his name, and lacks solid friends to call in times of need. He hasn’t even seen his family in years, missing out on cherished moments like Christmas and birthdays. Despite the allure of adventure and freedom, his heart aches for companionship, for someone to share his experiences with.
As if a lightbulb goes off atop his head, he bites his lip and begins to speak. “You could co-”
“Sorry guys, we actually need this table for a last-minute reservation, could you sit at the bar until a free table is available?” The interruption from your waiter cuts off Jaeyun before he can finish his sentence, leaving him momentarily stunned.
You glance at your phone and smile, "It’s getting late anyway so we should go. Thank you though," you respond politely, masking any disappointment you might feel.
Jaeyun nods in agreement, thanking the waiter once again before standing up. He holds out his hand for you to take as you rise from your chair, an action that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It’s not the gesture itself but the way he extended his hand without thinking about it.
Taking Jaeyun’s hand, you stand up, careful not to bump into anything as you step out from behind the table. Together, you retreat outside, the cool night air hitting your alcohol-flushed faces, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the crowded restaurant. The sensation brings a sense of relief, washing away the residual tension from the interrupted conversation.
Jaeyun notices the icy air, but instead of embracing it, his gaze falls on you, and he can't help but notice how your thin blouse must be providing little protection against the chill. Swiftly, he takes off his jacket and drapes it around your shoulders, adjusting it with care to ensure you're snug and warm.
You're taken aback by his offer, feeling a rush of gratitude and warmth flood through you at his thoughtful gesture. "Thank you," you say softly, a smile touching your lips as you pull the jacket tighter around you.
He returns your smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine affection. “Let me walk you home?” he offers, his tone gentle yet insistent.
You hesitate for a moment, trying to save him the inconvenience, but he's not fooled. Jaeyun knows the dangers of a woman walking alone at night, and while he trusts your ability to handle yourself, he wouldn't feel right if he left you and something did happen. Plus, deep down, he relishes the opportunity to spend as much time with you as possible.
Touched by his concern, you look up at him and offer a small smile. "I only live down the road, I'll be fine," you assure him, though the underlying appreciation in your voice is evident.
Jaeyun shakes his head with determination, a glint of resolve in his eyes. "I insist," he says firmly, reaching for your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I won't take no for an answer."
His sincerity and insistence warm your heart, and you find yourself relenting, knowing that his company will make the short walk home all the more enjoyable. With a grateful nod, you lead the way, feeling a sense of comfort and safety in his presence as you navigate the dimly lit streets together.
You really do only live about 10 minutes away, so the walk is quick by usual standards. Yet, tonight, you find yourself taking your time, savouring each step as if seeing the world through a new lens. Perhaps it's the lingering effects of the wine, or maybe it's the comforting presence of Jaeyun's hand in yours, but suddenly, the world feels lighter and fresher than it did just this morning.
As you stroll through the streets, you notice the ebb and flow of life around you. People are walking into bars, some are finishing up for the day, and others are simply enjoying a leisurely evening stroll. The streets hum with a busy yet serene energy, a unique blend of activity and tranquillity that can only be found when there's no rush to get from A to B.
Reaching your apartment building, you slow your pace, allowing yourself to take in the familiar surroundings with newfound appreciation. The soft glow of the streetlights casts a warm ambience over the building's facade, while the gentle hum of the city envelops you both.
You pause in front of the entrance, turning to Jaeyun with a smile. "This is me," you say, gesturing with the hand clasped in his, pulling him out of whatever thoughts have plagued him this whole journey.
While you were admiring your hometown, Jaeyun was overcome with thoughts that, once you reach your flat, this could be the last time he sees you again. He doesn’t want to come across as greedy for your time or clingy considering this is the first time you’ve both interacted in ten years, but he had so much fun that he doesn’t want it to end here.
Luckily for him, you have the same thoughts even if you aren’t projecting them in your manner the same way he is. “Would you like to come up?”
Your invitation hangs in the air, laden with the unspoken hope of spending just a little more time in each other’s company or maybe something else. Jaeyun's heart skips a beat as he meets your gaze, seeing a glimmer of anticipation reflected in your eyes. He hesitates for only a moment, the weight of his own desires battling against his fear of overstepping.
But in the end, the pull of your company proves too strong to resist. With a soft smile, Jaeyun nods, his voice barely above a whisper. "If that’s okay, I would love to."
The thing about you both is that you’re seeking companionship in one another while also oblivious that the other feels the same way. You aren’t noticing how Jaeyun subtly prolonged the walk, pulling you back a few times as if reluctant to let the evening end. And he certainly didn’t notice the hopeful glint in your eyes as you asked him for another bout of his time, knowing what this could lead to.
As you both step into the building and make your way up the stairs to your apartment, there's a quiet anticipation between you, a sense of possibility tinged with the thrill of the unknown. Each step brings you closer together, the space between you filled with unspoken thoughts and unvoiced desires.
As you unlock the door and step inside, the warmth of your home envelops you, a comforting embrace that welcomes Jaeyun into your world. 
You are also very glad that you had that anxiety-induced cleanathon.
Jaeyun wipes his feet on your doormat before heading inside, looking around at your quaint yet busy home. “Your flat is nice. Homely.”
“I’m either here or the office so…” you explain, taking your shoes and his jacket off, discarding them on their appropriate stands. 
Since you spend a lot of evenings in your office, which is sterile and minimalistic, you wanted the opposite tone for your house. You filled it with knick-knacks and plants, every available surface adorned with shelves or posters, while the warm orange paint added a cosy glow to the environment. This was your sanctuary and you couldn’t love it any more.
You wonder if you would love it so much if your office wasn’t your only other option of residence.
You open the refrigerator and peep at the beverages you have on hand. "Do you want a beer, wine, or I can make a coffee?” You offer, grinning and looking at Jaeyun.
“Beer sounds good, thank you,” Jaeyun replies, his attention drifting towards one of your paintings that hangs just beside a free-standing bookshelf filled with your favourite romance and fantasy books.
You don’t get the chance to read as often as you would like, but when you do, it has to be filled with a romance that is so out of reach that you can convince yourself that it would never happen to you anyway. If it’s too realistic, you start to feel a little burdened at the lack of love you receive from a partner.
Grabbing a beer for him and a glass of white for yourself, you make your way over to him, extending your hand as you offer him the ice-cold drink. He accepts it with an appreciative nod and suddenly, his eyes dart over to your University degrees, each one showcasing your incredible knowledge and talent. You always ended up top of your class with first honours, a testament to your hard work.
“You really made something of yourself, Y/N. It’s incredible.” Jaeyun says softly, clinking your glass with his bottle.
“Eh, it’s all amazing and then you’re suddenly working crazy hours with not so much as a thank you,” you shrug, voice bitter as you think about all the times your dedication to your clients goes by unnoticed. You don’t do it for the acknowledgment, however, when your colleagues are getting praise for doing the bare minimum, it starts to nag at you.
Turning to you, he tilts his head, “Do you hate it?”
Do you? That’s the big question. Maybe if you had stuck to immigration law like you wanted and weren’t swayed towards corporate all because your University advisor had told you ‘It’s what is best for someone of your calibre’ then maybe, just maybe, you would be content. You aren’t being fulfilled the way you hoped you would.
“I don’t think I hate the work as much as I hate the people. They are soulless, money-hungry, misogynistic pigs with no manners,” you say spitefully, the anger bubbling inside you evident in the fire that flashes in your eyes. As much as the job might not be totally fulfilling, you think you would enjoy it more if the men in your office or those you represent had even a shred of respect for you.
Your shoulders tense, the frustration threatening to overwhelm you, but as you hear Jaeyun’s subtle laughter, you whip your head around and knit your brows together. “What?” you demand, your tone sharp with irritation. There was nothing funny in your statement, so you're finding it rather difficult to understand the chuckle that is flooding your ear.
“No, no, I’m not laughing at your struggles,” he says softly, sensing your manner change to slightly standoffish. “It’s just…you haven’t changed. You’re still passionate and driven. Just like the girl I fell in--”
He stops himself abruptly, the words dying on his lips as he realises what he was about to say. Mentally kicking himself for almost letting slip, not once, but twice tonight, he trails off into an awkward silence, the unspoken words hanging heavily between you.
But you can’t let it slide a second time. If you’re going to talk about it, now is as good a time as any.
You inhale deeply, the air heavy as you gather your courage to broach the difficult conversation. It’s not one you particularly want to have, but you know it's necessary nonetheless. Steadying yourself, you meet Jaeyun's gaze with determination, steeling yourself for what's to come.
“Jaeyun, when you wrote that you thought you loved me in that letter, was it true?”
His initial shake of the head sends a pang of disappointment through you, but before you can fully process it, he continues, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity. He places his beer on the unit beside him and takes a step forward, his expression earnest.
“No,” he begins, and for a moment, you brace yourself for the finality of his words. But then he surprises you, his next words washing over you like a wave of relief and warmth. “I didn’t think I loved you, I knew it. I just didn’t want to come across as weird or pathetic.”
His honesty leaves you momentarily speechless, your heart racing as you take in the depth of his confession. And as he reaches out, gently taking the wine from your slightly trembling hands and setting it aside, your breath catches in your throat.
With both his hands cradling your face, you find yourself drawn into his gaze, the intensity of his eyes locking with yours. In that moment, time seems to stand still, the world around you fading into the background as you lose yourself in the connection between you.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, I really am,” Jaeyun admits, his voice laced with regret as he pours out his heart to you. His eyes close for a moment, as if savouring the sensation of your face under his fingertips, the soft beating of your heart a comforting rhythm in the silence between you.
“Adult me hates teenage me for not jumping on the chance to tell you how beautiful and awe-inspiring I thought you were, that I still think you are,” he continues, his words filled with raw honesty. “I was scared because you were so out of my league that I felt ridiculous for even thinking you could love me back. I fucking regret it all because even though we never spoke, I knew I wanted to be with someone as brilliant and wonderful as you. I tried so hard to find someone like you over the years and yet not one person ever compared, because there is only one you, Y/N. And I hate that you weren’t mine for even a minute.”
You have no words to say and it agitates you because here was Jaeyun, telling you how he felt and you couldn’t even give him an ounce of assurance that you would have been his if he had just asked. Your feelings back then were not as intense as his but they were real all the same. No, you didn’t love him but you wonder if you could have.
Jaeyun leans in, resting his forehead against yours, nudging your nose with an affectionate, almost playful tenderness. His warm, alcohol-tinged breath washes over your face, causing you to close your eyes along with him, immersing yourself in the intimate moment passing between you both.
“I don’t want to make the same mistake, Y/N. I can’t.”
His words hang in the air, laden with meaning and urgency. Before you can fully process them, he kisses you. It's a kiss so tender, so full of reverence, it feels as if you were a delicate rose being presented to his most cherished person.
Despite the sincerity and fondness you feel through the gentle pressure of his lips, a wave of uncertainty washes over you. He is leaving for Malta in less than 48 hours, and the thought of the impending separation threatens to overshadow the moment of intimacy you share.
But in this moment, with Jaeyun's arms wrapped around you and his lips against yours, all thoughts of the future fade away. You're consumed by the warmth of his embrace, the sweetness of his kiss, and the undeniable chemistry that ignites between you.
You know there are risks involved, that giving yourself to him could lead to heartache when he inevitably leaves. But this might be the only chance to embrace him, to have him as your own, even for a moment, just as he had wanted all those years ago. Deep down, you know that you could live to regret not taking this chance, the same way he regrets not confessing to you in fourth year.
So you let your inhibitions go, allowing yourself to be swept away by the intensity of the moment. His tongue swipes over your lips, a soft purr escaping him as he seeks to taste more than just your cherry-tinted lip balm. You can't help but surrender to the intoxicating pull of desire.
He pushes you gently against the wall by your hips, his lips never leaving yours. His senses are overwhelmed by you in every way possible: the taste of you on his tongue, your perfume drifting into his nose, the feel of your body pressing against his, and the soft echoes of your moans filling his ears. He loves it all so much that he thinks he could get addicted to it.
As Jaeyun deepens the kiss, your hands instinctively find their way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. Each touch, each caress, feels electrifying, sparking a fervour that neither of you can ignore. The taste of him, mingled with the remnants of his drink, is intoxicating, making your heart race faster with every passing second.
Jaeyun’s hands wander from your hips, tracing the curves of your waist and back, committing the feel of you to memory. He pulls you closer, erasing any remaining space between you, the heat of his body seeping into yours. Your breaths come faster, mingling with his in the small, shared space between your mouths.
Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours once more, both of you breathing heavily. His eyes search yours, filled with an intensity that makes your knees weak. “Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, “I’ve wanted you for so long, even when I thought I would never see you again, I thought about you.”
“Yeah?” you ask breathlessly, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, your fingers tangling in the soft strands.
Nodding, Jaeyun’s features shift, his gaze darkening with a hunger that makes your pulse quicken. He kneels before you, his hands moving with deliberate slowness as he finds the zip at the back of your skirt. His fingers work the zipper down, the sound of it seeming loud in the charged silence of the room.
His eyes never leave yours as he sinks down, the skirt slipping down your legs to pool at your feet, leaving you in your white panties. The vulnerability of the moment sends a shiver down your spine, but Jaeyun's adoring gaze and gentle touch reassure you.
Jaeyun places his hands on your hips, his thumbs brushing over your skin in soothing circles. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe as he looks up at you from his kneeling position. His eyes trace the lines of your body, drinking in the sight of you.
The raw adoration in his gaze ignites a fire within you, and you feel a rush of emotions you can barely contain. “Jaeyun,” you breathe, your hands resting on his shoulders for balance as you steady yourself against the overwhelming surge of feelings.
His hands move from your hips to your thighs, his touch light but firm as he traces the contours of your legs. The anticipation builds with each gentle caress, your skin tingling under his fingertips. When he finally leans in, pressing a tender kiss just above the waistband of your panties, a soft gasp escapes your lips.
His touch is reverent, each movement deliberate and full of intent. He hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, looking up at you for permission. You nod, your breath hitching as he slowly slides them down, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.
Jaeyun’s mind races as he sees you in this vulnerable state, yet he is the one who feels exposed. His feelings are pouring out of him like never before, and it’s all down to the fact that you bring that side out of him. No 16 year old should have had the emotional intelligence to decipher a crush from love, yet with you as his focus on the subject, he knew exactly what it was. While his friends were goofing off with people at parties and at the bike rack at school in a fleeting fling, he was wondering how he could make you his.
Looking at your exposed heat, he places a soft, lingering kiss just above your clit, making you jolt. You hadn’t expected him to find it so quickly, yet, it was as easy for him to find as a horse in a cow farm, like he had been doing this for years with you.
Once he feels your fingers threading through his hair, massaging his scalp, he takes it as the go-ahead to dive in deeper and explore you in ways he only imagined he could. Placing your left leg over his right shoulder and keeping his grip on your thigh for balance, he dips his tongue into your folds, moving in slow but strong strokes, lapping your taste up in his mouth. If your lips had him intoxicated, your pussy had him obsessed.
You throw your head against the wall and buck your hips up to open yourself up further to him, allowing him the privilege to get lost between your thighs and drink you up like a man deprived of cold water on a hot day. He’s so eager to please you that you can sense how much he is enjoying this, maybe even more than you are. 
Jaeyun’s tongue swirls at the entrance of your core before he pushes in, tracing the bumps of your wall as he explores your pretty pussy and its tightness; he can only imagine what his cock will feel like clamped inside you, if you grant him the honour to do so.
One thing you crushed on Jaeyun the most over in secondary school was his nose - the prominent feature stood out against everything else and you couldn’t help but marvel at it from time to time. Big noses have been your weakness since your hormones started to kick in and Jaeyun’s was perfect. You know this for a fact now as it brushes on your clit as he slurps and sucks up your cunt.
You revel in the sensation, how his enthusiastic and skilled mouth shivers down your spine. It's a testament to his attention to detail, his dedication to your pleasure evident in every movement, every touch.
His hands paw at your thighs as he loses himself in worshipping your mound. It’s tang on his taste buds only driving him further into madness - he can’t believe how lucky he is in this moment, so much so that he is grinning like a Cheshire cat as he continues to devour you.
“Jaeyun-” you breathe out sharply, the air in your chest leaving your body as he licks fast stipes up to your clit, focusing his attention where he knows you want it most. It is truly remarkable how well he knows you despite only knowing you from afar until now. 
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he mumbles into your cunt, burying his face into you as he laps up the juices that are leaking from your hole, “I’m here to please you, please let me.” Jaeyun doesn’t mean for it to come off as begging but he is so desperate for you he can't help it; and when your thighs tense slightly at his words, he thinks perhaps you want him to plead with you.
You’re so used to being around men who think that they own you, that are superior to you, that as Jaeyun asks you to let him pleasure you, it's a refreshing change. His words, muffled against your wetness, carry a genuine desire to fulfil your every desire. You can feel the sincerity in his actions, the earnestness in his plea.
“I want you to make me cum, please, Jaeyun. I need it so bad,” you whisper into the hot atmosphere that surrounds you both. You’re close and he can sense it too and right now, that is all you care about. You need to feel that satisfaction rush over you, your body is aching for it because it knows Jaeyun can bring you to that peak.
Whimpering below you, Jaeyun loses all sense of control and picks up his pace, his fingers now circling your entrance before slipping into you, scissoring you open in a mix of gentleness and roughness. He loves the idea of being able to touch you like this and make you release over his hand and tongue.
Nibbling at your clit is the final straw and you feel that tightness in your stomach and clench in your pussy as you cry out, cumming all over his face. The whites of your eyes come to the forefront as your entire body rolls and the wave of your climax consumes you like a tsunami. The grip you have on his hair tightens and you hold him in place, your body riding his face as his nose, tongue, and fingers work in tandem with you to help you ride out your high.
You don’t think you’ve cum so hard from just oral, these types of experiences being between you and your toys. Jaeyun is a man above the rest and you can’t wait to have more of him.
As he gently guides your leg back to the ground, his hands steady you as you tremble in the aftermath of pleasure. His thoughts wander, contemplating the possibility of lingering between your thighs for just a few more precious moments, coaxing yet another orgasm from your willing body.
For Jaeyun, the idea of bringing you to such heights of ecstasy is not just a source of pride but pure joy. The thought of surrendering himself completely to your pleasure fills him with a sense of fulfilment like nothing else. In a world where some might find embarrassment, he finds only bliss in the act of surrendering to his woman, to you.
Looking down at him, his eyes locking with yours past your heaving chest, you moan quietly at the sight of him; his hair dishevelled thanks to your hands, your juices over his face and lips which he wipes his fat tongue along to collect, and his eyes filled with pure adoration and lust.
You’re never going to be able to let him go.
Tracing a path of tender kisses along your body, his lips remain in constant contact with your skin, leaving a trail of warmth and sensation in their wake. With each gentle press of his lips, he conveys his adoration and reverence for every inch of you. It's a silent yet powerful declaration of his desire to explore and worship every part of your being.
Once he reaches your neck, he stops, nibbling softly at your nape. "God, you taste so good," he murmurs against your skin, his breath warm against your neck. "I could spend forever right here, just worshipping you."
His words send a shiver down your spine, a delicious anticipation building within you at the thought of what's to come. You tilt your head slightly, granting him better access, silently urging him to continue his actions. 
"I could lose myself in you," he continues, his voice husky with desire. "Every touch, every kiss, I want to claim every part of you for myself, even just for tonight.”
His honesty pangs in your chest because what if it is just for tonight? The probability of that is high and yet you don’t dare think about it, the revelation too upsetting for you to consider. So you push it down, committing yourself to enjoy this, regardless of the what-ifs. Having him now is all that matters and you’re going to relish in it.
Grabbing his t-shirt, you yank it off his body and kiss him desperately, your arms finding home around his neck as you waltz him to your bedroom, thankful for your familiarity with your apartment as you weave around coffee tables and decorative baskets.
As you reach the bedroom, a primal need surges between you, an urgency and determination unlike anything you've experienced before. With a sense of raw desire, you turn him around and push him onto the bed, your actions driven by an irresistible force that neither of you can deny.
Straddling him, you see his face light up in excitement and glee as you initiate the next move. Jaeyun loves it when his eagerness is reciprocated and by the way your thighs are squeezing each of his sides and your hands are cradling his face as you kiss him messily, he feels so wanted at this moment.
His hands eagerly grasp at your blouse, urgency guiding his movements as he tears it open and discards it aside. With unbridled desire, he buries his face into your chest, kissing and nibbling at the exposed flesh above your bra. Fingers knead and lift your tits, enhancing the sensation as he revels in the intimate contact between skin and skin.
The heat between you intensifies and Jaeyun's ardour only grows stronger. His lips trail from your chest to your neck, peppering kisses along the sensitive skin, igniting a flurry of sensations that ripple through your body.
With a skilful touch, his hands explore the curves of your body, tracing the contours with a fervent hunger. Fingers dance over the fabric of your bra, teasingly tracing the edges before deftly unhooking it, revealing your breasts in all their glory.
“You’re a fucking dream, Sweetheart,” he confesses, knowing that you have, in fact, clouded his dreams some nights. “You always have been.”
Grabbing his chin gently, you lift his eyes to meet yours and smile fondly, showcasing your affection through your sparkling pupils. “You’re so pretty, Jaeyun,” you utter quietly as each syllable matches the thumping in his chest.
Jaeyun flushes red and smiles brightly, like you’ve just called him a good boy and he’s your golden retriever. What you don’t expect is for him to open his mouth just wide enough to poke his tongue out, asking for something.
It takes a moment for you to grasp his silent request, but once you do, your hold on his chin transitions to his jaw, gently urging it wider as you oblige, softly spitting into his waiting mouth. A soft whimper escapes his throat as his eyes flutter closed, savouring the intimate exchange with an fervour.
Emboldened by the connection between you, you lean in closer, your lips brushing against his in a silent promise of more to come. His response is immediate, a soft moan escaping his lips as he eagerly presses himself against you, seeking to deepen the connection between your bodies.
You feel his clothed cock against your naked heat and suddenly the room is filled with explicit moans, both of you dry-humping one another like horny teens. It’s electric and you both want each other more than any destination or University degree, it feels like you’ve found your hearts true desires in the confines of this bedroom.
“Let me have you,” His plea resonates in the air, heavy with longing and urgency, as his fingertips caress every contour of your exposed skin, eliciting a cascade of goosebumps in their wake. "Please, Y/N," he groans, his voice thick with desire, the intensity of his gaze locking with yours in an unspoken plea for surrender.
“If you let me have you,” you whisper into his mouth, ghosting your lips above his,
“Baby, you’ve had me for a lifetime.”
His response is without a moment of silence, followed by a deep kiss that ignites a fire within you both, drawing you into a passionate embrace. With a gentle yet possessive grip, he pulls you closer, his hands trailing down to caress the curves of your ass. The sharp sound of his gentle slaps mingles with your moans, echoing off the walls as pleasure courses through your veins.
As the heat between you reaches its peak, you break the kiss with a soft gasp, a mischievous glint in your eyes. With a playful smirk, you slide your hands down to the waistband of his trousers, fingers deftly undoing the buttons as you tease him with each deliberate movement.
Jaeyun watches you with a mix of anticipation and desire, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he eagerly awaits your next move. You climb off him for a moment as you peel his trousers and boxers down his legs, revealing his hardened length, aching for your touch. His arousal is evident and his cock is thick and twitching with its need to be buried inside of you.
Discarding the trousers aside, you meet his gaze with a wicked grin, your desire mirroring his as you hover above him. Your eyes sparkle playfully as you slink forward, your lips caress his teasingly, then trail kisses down his chest, creating a path of fire in your wake. Jaeyun's breath hitches as he watches you with rapt attention; his anticipation grows with every second.
Your fingertips follow enticingly down his thighs as you approach his waist, sending shivers of expectation coursing through his body. You gently but firmly guide his legs apart so that you can lower yourself between them for better access.
Grinning slyly, you approach him closely, your breath ghosting over his skin as you torment him with every instant that passes. Then you take him quickly into your mouth and engulf him with a hunger that leaves him panting for air.
Jaeyun surrenders to the thrilling sensation as waves of pleasure rush over him; his hands tangling in your hair as he leads you, lost in the depths of bliss. In this moment, there is nothing but the two of you, bound together by a passion that knows no bounds.
However, as good as your mouth feels, and fuck does it feel good, Jaeyun needs to be enveloped by your warm walls, he craves it like an addiction, and he genuinely thinks that once he gets a taste of you wrapped around him, he might just have to check himself into pussy anonymous.
Using his grip on your hair, he yanks you up off of him, causing confusion to overcome your expression. “Baby, if I’m not fucking you in the next 3 seconds, I might just die,” he laughs but he is serious, you can tell he is by how he’s already grasping his cock with his freehand and holding it in position for you to sink onto it.
So that is exactly what you do. You straddle him one more, lining him up at your entrance before slowly easing your way onto him. With each inch, you take your time, allowing yourself to adjust to his size, the sensation of him filling you completely overwhelming your senses. Jaeyun's hands grip your hips tightly, guiding you as you slowly sink down onto him, his breath catching in his throat as you finally envelop him completely. 
Due to his thickness, you take your time to adjust to his size, grinding on him to open you up a bit more, not that any of you mind because as you do so, the tip of his dick is brushing inside you blissfully. 
"You're taking me so well, beautiful," Jaeyun says, his voice hoarse with need, his hands tracing patterns of heat over your skin. "I was made for you.”
You begin to ride him while moaning gently beneath your breath. At first, your motions are shallow as you slowly elevate your hips. Each motion causes a surge of pleasure to course through your body, sparking a fire that grows more intense with each passing second.
Jaeyun's hands are firmly grasping your hips, directing you as you find your rhythm. His own groans blend with yours to create a symphony of want. Your walls are squeezing his thick cock so tight that each time he lifts you higher, the bell of his cock snags on your entrance, trapping him inside.
“You’re bouncing on my cock so well, Y/N,” he compliments as he kisses you gently on your bouncing tit. His heavy breath mists over your heart and it clenches along with your core. He’s so beautiful and adoring that he has ruined every other man for you.
As the ecstasy consumes both of you, Jaeyun's control starts unravelling and his primitive impulses begin to take over as he loses himself in the intensity of the moment. He jackhammers himself further into you with each thrust and he lets out a howl, completely losing all control of his movements. His thrusts become more frantic and more desperate as he hears your cries of pleasure.
The rhythm of your fucking frenzy transforms into a symphony of desire, the sound of his hips meeting yours echoing off the walls as he pounds into you with unrestrained passion. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.
You cling to him desperately, lost in the overwhelming intensity as you surrender yourself completely to the pleasure that consumes you. With each powerful buck of his hips, you feel yourself hurtling towards the brink, the sensation building to a fever pitch as you both race towards the climax that awaits.
"F-Fuck, Jaeyun!" you groan out, your voice a mixture of pleasure and desperation as you hug his head between your cleavage, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation coursing through your body.
Jaeyun is completely lost in the moment, his focus solely on the incredible feeling of being enveloped by you. He bites down harshly on one of your breasts, leaving a bruise as a mark of his passion, eliciting a cry of pleasure mixed with a hint of pain from you.
Taking control, Jaeyun’s only objective now is to feel you cumming on his cock, so he picks up the pace, bringing your body down to lie on top of him as he sinks into your mattress. Using his legs as anchors, he thrusts into you with an otherworldly speed, each movement driving you closer to the edge.
“Come on, Sweetheart, cum all over me,” he grits out, all of his focus on his hips.
The slapping of your skin and how his tip is puncturing your cervix is enough to tumble you over, a roar leaving your mouth as you come undone just as he wanted. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jaeyun!” You can’t form coherent sentences because to put it plainly, the dick is too good. It’s rendered you dumb and the only thoughts in your mind are; Jaeyun, cock, feels good, cumming.
Smiling brightly beneath you, Jaeyun marvels at your face as you let the pleasure take over. Your eyes are screwed shut and your mouth is open wide with short breaths escaping, your chest is panting against his and he can feel your heart race against his.
“That’s it, baby. God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” Jaeyun whispers earnestly.
As you start to relax into the aftermath of your second orgasm of the night, he picks up the pace again, now content to seek his own release. Clawing down your back, he holds your hips still and batters into your sensitive and spent pussy, knowing that the beating it just took must have left you sore, so he needs to cum quickly.
You aid him in his quest for release, showering him with kisses across his chest, neck, and face, your droopy eyes still gleaming with adoration despite the ache that lingers within you. "Jaeyun, you're fucking me so good," you whisper gently into his ear, nibbling at his lobe in a gesture of encouragement that sends a jolt of electricity coursing through him, his length throbbing inside of you in response.
Empowered by your words, Jaeyun's rhythm becomes even more intense, his movements propelled by an innate urge to reach his climax, which between your tight cunt and your seductive words, it doesn’t take him long.
"I'm cumming, fuck, I'm cumming, Baby," Jaeyun mewls, his voice strained with desperation as he tries to push you off of him, but you hold him firmly in place, unwilling to let him escape the imminent release.
With a whispered plea, you encourage him to let go completely, to surrender to the intoxicating pleasure that courses through both of you. "Cum inside me, Jaeyun. Let me feel you," you urge, your voice filled with lust and longing.
He shakes his head and tries to roll over to pull out, yet you remain headstrong and unyielding to his attempts of escape. “I have the implant, Jaeyun, you can cum in me as much as you want.”
The lawyer in you is furious that you’re letting him bust a nut inside of you due to your irresponsibility, but the happy and content you is relishing in the fact that any second, you’re going to be filled with Sim Jaeyun’s seed.
Looking deep into your eyes, he sees you’re serious and huffs out a laugh of joy. It's not that he didn't want to experience the ecstasy of releasing inside you - ask the stars, he did - but he also understands the importance of being responsible.
However, as you resume your rhythm, bouncing on his cock and firmly holding him down by his chest, any lingering hesitation evaporates. He becomes consumed by the overwhelming pleasure, his primal instincts driving him to chase his climax with an intensity that matches yours.
“Cum for me, Jaeyun, please,” you beg, wanting nothing more at this moment.
Coaxed by your words and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him, Jaeyun succumbs to the irresistible urge to release deep inside you. With one final, powerful thrust, he empties himself into you, his hips stilling as he rides out the waves of his high.
"Fuck, Baby, fuck I'm cumming, don't stop."
The sounds that escape his lips are a symphony of pleasure, soft yet needy, low but whiney, a perfect embodiment of every fantasy you've ever entertained. As you massage his chest and shoulders, soothing him down from his orgasm, his features are painted with bliss and love, a smile mirroring your own as he gazes at you with adoration.
"You're amazing, truly out of this world, Y/N L/N," Jaeyun huffs out, his voice filled with reverence and admiration.
Gently moving you off him, he guides your head to the pillow before hovering over you, peppering your lips with affectionate kisses. Finally, he settles on top of you, his head resting against your chest, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat calming him instantly.
Resting his chin in the valley between your breasts, Jaeyun's touch is gentle as he reaches up, tenderly tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. There's a glimmer of something in his eyes, a silent contemplation that leaves you wondering what he's about to say next.
For a fleeting moment, you fear he might choose to end the encounter, bidding you farewell with a polite smile and a promise to call. But to your surprise, he does the opposite.
"Come with me, Y/N," he says, his voice soft yet filled with determination.
Stunned, you feel your chest tighten as you replay his words in your mind, each repetition only adding to the disbelief that swirls within you. There is no way he is asking you this when this is the first time you’ve really spoken to one another. He might as well be asking a blind date he’s just met to leave with him.
"What?" you manage to utter, blinking at him in shock.
For Jaeyun, however, there's no hesitation. In his heart, nothing has ever felt more right. He's harboured feelings for you for so long that now, with you in his arms, he's determined not to let you slip away so easily, even if that means proposing a notion that can be deemed outlandish.
"To Malta, to everywhere you want to go," he continues, his voice filled with sincerity and a touch of vulnerability. "Come with me."
You stay silent, nervously biting your lip, there isn’t much you can say, your inner battle between your head and your heart make it difficult to hear anything clearly. 
Noticing your silence, he offers you a gentle smile and grabs one of your hands, kissing your palm gently. “Y/N, you’re miserable here, I can feel it. You’ve practically said it yourself,” he argues with you even if he cannot hear your turmoil, “Think about it; you come with me, experience everything you’ve ever wanted, study Immigration Law at one of those Open Universities if you want, or do literally anything else that makes you happy.”
You shake your head. "I'm not miserable, Jaeyun."
“Then tell me you’re happy.”
Silence ensues. A profound quietness fills the space because...you can't. You can't fabricate happiness. Are you content with your life? Undoubtedly. But true happiness eludes you. Until he posed that question, until you stood eye to eye with him, you had mistaken contentment for fulfilment, believing that your family and friends held the key to your happiness, that working hard to get to the top of your law firm was all you could want. But you aren't truly happy.
“Y/N, I came here for you,” he admits, his voice just above a whisper.
“What do you mean?” you ask, confusion palpable in your manner.
“I was supposed to be leaving the UK straight to Malta. I had my bags packed and ready to go and then I got your message on Instagram. Before I could even reply, I was changing my flight to come home to see you. I just…I couldn’t let the chance of seeing you pass me by,” his voice quivers with raw emotion as he speaks, his grasp on your hand tightening,  “Do you know how many times I’ve hovered over that stupid send button, desperate to reach out but was too scared to? When you got that letter and messaged me about it, I knew this was my only shot and I couldn’t waste it.”
Jaeyun, deep down, is still the scared teenage boy who wrote you that letter. You can see him fighting himself, terrified that as he pours his heart out to you that it’ll be a disaster, but he has spent so long contemplating what life could have been had he just plucked up the courage that right now, he’s powering through his insecurities to try and reach your heart.
You sit up, intertwining his fingers in yours as a form of reassurance. “Did you come here to see if I would come with you?” you query, the tone of your voice light despite the heaviness of the subject.
"No, I came here because I wanted to see you and...to see if I could find some closure for teenage me," Jaeyun begins, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand. The nakedness of both of you both being and soul amplifies the vulnerability that envelops you. "But I can't bear the thought of losing you again."
"You don't really know me, Jaeyun," you counter, not with hostility but with a sense of realism. 
How could he be so sure he wants you by his side when he knows you as far as he could throw you? Sure, you have both connected in a way you didn’t know was possible in the past 7 hours, and you have in some way known one another for years, but you don’t know each other. Not enough to leave the country with him…right?
With a sigh, Jaeyun gently strokes your hair, his gaze softening with affection. "I do know you, Y/N. I see you for everything you are, I always have," he insists, his voice now infused with unwavering determination. “I don’t know if I love you the same way I did ten years ago, we’re both different people. But I want the chance to find out, I want the chance to fall in love with you as you are right now.”
You stare into his eyes, contemplating your future. You could stay here and go about your life as is, sitting in a swimming pool of ‘what could have been’, forced to see bosses who could never give you the time of day, or you could follow Jaeyun, explore the world and let your hair down, meet new people and enjoy everything that life is supposed to be. Pragmatically, you have enough savings to get you by and worst case, you work shitty jobs in beautiful cities.
There is nothing holding you back except yourself.
With a beaming smile, you nod a silent promise to him. “Can we go to Venice?”
Jaeyun's eyes widen in surprise at your request, a flicker of disbelief dancing in their depths. But as he takes in the earnestness in your gaze, the longing for adventure and new beginnings, his heart swells with a profound sense of gratitude.
"Venice, huh?" he echoes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Let's do it.”
The words hang between you, laden with the promise of excitement and possibility. You leap forward and kiss him, pushing his back onto the mattress once again, enjoying the moment with him, knowing it’s not the end but the beginning of future you.
perm taglist: @immortalvee @snoopypupp @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @pockettwinzz @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @emi-en @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @iikeustar @shawnyle
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fastandcarlos · 1 day
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Stealing Baby Norris » Carlos Sainz ft. Lando Norris
summary: when carlos sainz is revealed as the new mclaren driver your brother lando is happy to introduce you. what happens though as a relationship strikes up and carlos finds himself on the way to ferrari?
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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1,025,482 others
carlossainz55: having the best time in papaya, thank you to everyone who has welcomed me so far 🏎️🧡
tagged: mclaren
64,291 comments
mclaren: glad to have you onboard, looking forward to working with you carlos!
username1: carlos + lando = the dream pairing
username2: how does this man manage to pull off every damn colour
landonorris: can’t wait to get going with you dude, we’re in for a great season together
carlossainz55: @/landonorris it’s gonna be a great ride 🏎️🏁
carlossainz55: @/landonorris ps when’s the next norris family dinner I get to attend
username3: wait carlos went for dinner round lando’s house…that’s so cute
username4: @/username3 that means he would’ve gotten to meet all the siblings too 🥺
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liked by ynusername, georgerussell63 and 829,402 others
landonorris: already found me a new best friend to annoy for the season 🥰
tagged: carlossainz55
72,225 comments
mclaren: our views will be through the roof this year with content from you two
carlossainz55: it’s been two days and already you make me want to scream
username5: this duo just screams trouble
username6: handsome, funny, talented, carlando are the dream pairing
ynusername: @/carlossainz55 you have my sympathies, I’ve been dealing with his nonsense for over 20 years
carlossainz55: @/ynusername how have you survived?? pls teach me your ways
ynusername: @/carlossainz55 let’s catch up next race and I’ll share all my tips 📗
carlossainz55: @/ynusername I’ve got my notebook ready!
username7: not y/n and carlos interacting on the gram
username: anyone else left thinking carlos and y/n would make a great couple
alex_albon: if carlos lasts more than a season with you I’ll give you a thousand pounds 😂
georgerussell63: did everyone forget to give carlos the memo about lando and his unflattering photos??
username8: have the norris family just adopted carlos now? 🥺
username9: these two might just have the power to turn me into a mclaren girlie by the end of the season
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liked by pierregasly, ynusername and 739,300 others
carlossainz55: weekends off = exploring the world with my favourite person 🌍✈️
43,492 comments
username10: whose been taking all these photos??
username11: anyone else been noticing y/n appearing in the likes again 🤔
landonorris: I thought I was your favourite person??
carlossainz55: @/landonorris how does number two sound?
landonorris: @/carlossainz55 I guess I can make an exception for one person 😂
username12: there’s only one person that lando would make an exception for
username13: omg he’s got to be talking about y/n
username12: @/username13 y/n is the only person lando is that whipped for
charles_leclerc: woah look at you posting handsome aesthetic shots 🤯
carlossainz55: @/charles_leclerc I’ve been having a few lessons ☺️
username14: let me be the one you explore with pls carlos 💦
lewishamilton: well earned after a great week my guy 🏆
lance_stroll: I wanna know the gossip too
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liked by danielricciardo, ynusername and 1,429,231 others
carlossainz55: making the most of the sun during the off season, and luckily for me I had the best company to make the most of the time off too ❤️🥺
tagged: ynusername
192,492 comments
username15: poor lando, losing his little sister to carlos
username16: they just look so adorable together
pierregasly: hell yeah congrats you two 🩷
landonorris: excuse me I do not give permission for you to post photos of my sister in the same album of you half naked
carlossainz55: @/landonorris your sister wasn’t complaining when I asked her to take these half naked shots
landonorris: @/carlossainz55 you just wait until I next see you 🤬
username17: lando already regretting ever letting the two of them meet
username18: I bet carlos teases Lando about dating his sister whenever he can lol
ynusername: thank you for the most amazing holiday…you’re the best 🔥💕
carlossainz55: @/ynusername can’t wait to do it again soon (just don’t tell lando) 🥰
georgerussell63: glad to see you guys enjoying yourselves, can’t wait to hear all about it
danielricciardo: and the award for the new cutest couple in f1 goes to…
username19: this relationship is gonna bully the hell outta lando
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
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liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 429,555 others
ynusername: a weekend of supporting my boys…it doesn’t get better than this 🧡🏎️🏁
tagged: landonorris, carlossainz55 and mclaren
32,448 comments
username20: my heart…this is adorable 😭
carlossainz55: I love you, thank you for always supporting me 🧡
landonorris: the best little sister ever - you were supporting me slightly more tho, right?
ynusername: @/landonorris I support you both equally stop trying to cause trouble 🙄
carlossainz55: @/landonorris I think she supports me more judging by our celebrations last night 🫢
landonorris: @/carlossainz55 I do NOT need to know anymore details you shut your mouth 😭
carmenmmundt: sooo glad we got to catch up after so long, see you at another race soon!!
username21: I can’t cope with y/n and carlos constantly teasing lando like this
username22: poor lando watching his little sister lose all innocence in front of his eyes 😂
maxverstappen1: I keep telling you y/n…red bull is where it’s at
charles_leclerc: although I’m sure ferrari red would look good on you too…
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
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liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 1,029,472 comments
carlossainz55: a weekend with my two favourite norris’ 🥺💕
tagged: landonorris and ynusername
68,304 comments
username23: the ultimate trio 🩷
username24: how has lando let carlos post that picture of him cuddling his baby sister
ynusername: I better be number one out of those two 🤔
carlossainz55: @/ynusername you’ll always be my number one (you haven’t got much competition 😂)
landonorris: @/carlossainz55 I thought what we had was special too 😂
maxverstappen1: these photos were almost cute until I noticed one of them had lando in it
username25: ofc there still ends up being loads of golf involved
username26: y/n is the luckiest getting to have carlos’ pancakes 🫠
username27: you just know in that golf photo that carlos is sharing some ott secret with y/n to put him off his shot 😂
alex_albon: ik lando is usually the third wheel…but I’m happy to third wheel these golf games 🙌🏻
landonorris: @/alex_albon invite in the post as we speak
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
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liked by charles_leclerc, ynusername and 892,204 others
carlossainz55: saying my final farewells to the fabulous team at mclaren, thank you for the best two seasons ever - unfortunately for me I’m still stuck with this giant pain in the ass as a constant third wheel in my relationship for the foreseeable 😂🥺
tagged: mclaren and landonorris
101,382 comments
landonorris: hahah you can’t get rid of me that easily
landonorris: being serious tho, I’ve loved being teammates with you, and I guess as hard as it is to say, I couldn’t be happier knowing my little sister is dating someone as wonderful as you
carlossainz55: @/landonorris stop it I’m tearing up…that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me 🥲
username28: I can’t believe we’re not going to get weekly carlando anymore
username29: nooooo how could you do this to us carlos
ynusername: ik this wasn’t an easy decision for you, but I’m excited for our next step together 💕
carlossainz55: @/ynusername thank you for being so understanding and supportive, can’t wait for what comes next! ❤️
username30: is y/n going to be moving with carlos…lando won’t be able to cope without his little sister around 💔
charles_leclerc: looking forward to welcoming you both soon - I told you you’d look good in ferrari red didn’t I y/n? 😂
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
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liked by ynusername, charles_leclerc and 1,103,592 comments
carlossainz55: a few days exploring the new city that we call home 🌊😊
tagged: ynusername
53,883 comments
landonorris: the uk is still better!!
landonorris: I can’t believe you stole my baby sister from me like this
carlossainz55: @/landonorris I promise that I’ll look after her
landonorris: @/carlossainz55 just like you promised to never break my heart and leave me at mclaren?? 💔
username31: it feels strange not seeing the two of them with lando right beside them
username32: lando genuinely sounds gutted not to have them next door anymore
georgerussell63: glad to see you guys are settling in nicely 😊
charles_leclerc: can’t wait to catch up with you guys over the next couple of days
ynusername: let’s continue to make more amazing memories 💕💕
username: they both look so happy to be in italy
username33: I’m so glad y/n decided to move out with carlos
username34: my carlando heart can’t bare to see them apart
danielricciardo: can confirm lando has not stopped moaning about how lost he is without you both the past couple of days
ynusername: tell him to grow up @/danielricciardo I’m not a baby anymore
landonorris: @/ynusername STOP YOU’LL ALWAYS BE MY BABY SISTER
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liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 429,450 others
ynusername: the colours might have changed but my man being top of the podium remains the same 🔥🏆
tagged: carlossainz55
34,771 comments
charles_leclerc: welcome to the best team in f1!! ❤️
carlossainz55: thank you for always supporting me, cannot wait for our new adventure my love 🥰✨
ynusername: @/carlossainz55 so proud of you, excited to see you continue being the amazing man you are 🥺
username35: these pictures must be breaking lando’s heart
username36: I still think y/n looks better in papaya
danielricciardo: you two lovebirds are something else
landonorris: I never thought my own sister would betray me like this
ynusername: @/landonorris I’m still a mclaren girl at heart 🫢🧡
carlossainz55: @/ynusername I’ll pretend I didn’t just read that
lilymhe: teach me how to look as good as you in the paddock pls 🙏🏻
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liked by ynusername, landonorris and 1,302,204 others
carlossainz55: carlando is still going strong (according to lando who still believes he is my favourite member of the norris family 🙄) hope this stops you feeling so jealous boo
tagged: landonorris
103,492 comments
landonorris: thank you for thinking about my feelings bby ❤️
ynusername: @/landonorris 🤮🤮🤮
username37: yay carlando lives on
username38: I always knew they’d still make time for each other
username39: has y/n been the true third wheel along
danielricciardo: you left me some big shoes to feel mate
ynusername: the two of you absolutely disgust me…but I wouldn’t have it any other way
633 notes · View notes
golden-cherry · 1 day
Text
deal - cl16 (31/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: The promised back massage - and friends help each other.
Warnings: 18+ (thigh riding, inexperienced!reader)
Word Count: 3.6k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: I'm so proud. Charlie won his home race! I'm still crying. feedback is appreciated!
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"So?" asks Charles as you move further and further away from the beautiful house. "What do you think of them?"
You smile at him. "You have a really great family, Charles. Maybe a little wild, but it's obvious how much you love each other."
He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road ahead. "I love them more than anything. Ever since my father died, we've taken every opportunity to spend time together." He swallows briefly. "We appreciate each other. And that's worth a lot."
You carefully reach for his hand, which is resting on the shift stick, and turn it so that you can interlace your fingers with his. You place it on your lap and stroke the back of his hand in gentle circles with your thumb. "Thank you for taking me here. It means a lot to me."
"Actually, I didn't have any other choice. I think my mother would have kicked down our front door if I kept you from her." Charles has to grin. "I definitely wouldn't have survived that."
"So that's how it is," you grin and let go of his hand with mock outrage. "So you only took me with you out of pure self-protection."
Before you can cross your arms in front of your chest, he grabs your hand again and brings it up to his mouth so that he can tentatively blow a kiss on your knuckles. "Do you believe me when I tell you that it's incredibly important to me that you know my family? And that you like them?"
You feel the heat rush to your face as he brushes his lips over the thin skin of your fingers. You take a quick breath and stare at him before nervously - and slightly turned on - looking away from him. "Maybe." You try to sound as nonchalant as possible and hope that Charles doesn't notice the tremble in your voice. "I'm definitely glad Arthur didn't do anything to you. I bet he was a kid back then who just bit other children."
Charles has to laugh at that. Loudly and fervently, and you don't know if he does it on purpose, but he presses your hand firmly against his muscular chest and holds it there. You feel the vibration under your fingertips and air rushing through his lungs, and his laughter is so infectious that you can't help but join in.
When he finally lets go of your hand, he wipes the tears from his face. He takes another deep breath before letting out one last laugh and then places his hand on your thigh like it's the most normal thing in the world. The warmth of his skin almost burns through the fabric of your clothes. You try not to let it show. "Believe me, mon amour. I should even have a scar from his teeth somewhere."
When you stop at a traffic light, Charles leans forward a little and pushes his back through. When you hear a few of his vertebrae crack, you grimace. "Does your back hurt?"
"A little." He leans back into the seat again, but stretches his neck to the side. "Not being able to lean back for hours is more uncomfortable than you think." When he glances at you out of the corner of his eye and smirks, you lightly punch his shoulder. 
"You idiot." Charles laughs in response. "You're just after a back massage!"
"You take what you can get." His hand squeezes your thigh. 
You roll your eyes. "You could have just asked for a massage, you know? I imagine the stool isn't the most comfortable piece of furniture."
Charles shrugs. "I didn't want it to be weird in any way."
Your gaze focuses on his slender fingers on your leg. "Do you mean because of this morning?" you ask meekly. 
"Actually -" Charles clears his throat. " Because of Arthur, actually. He was hinting at something and - I don't know." He steers the car onto the street where your apartment is. When he takes his hand off your thigh to change gear, you miss his touch. Without another word, he parks the Renault in the building's underground garage and without looking at you, you take the elevator to your apartment. 
The silence between you is a little awkward. The fact that you brought up the incident from this morning has somehow killed the mood and you'd like to slap yourself for it. You could have left it at that - after all, you had spoken to each other and agreed that everything was fine between you - but you had stupidly cast it in a different light.
You get ready for bed in separate rooms in silence. While Charles brushes his teeth in the bathroom, you change in the bedroom and slip into comfortable shorts and a shirt that you're not sure if it belongs to you or Charles. When you run into each other in the hallway, you don't look at each other, but pass each other with lowered eyes. 
In the bathroom, you splash cold water on your face and are about to bang your forehead against the porcelain of the sink. Until just now, the day had been wonderful. You met his wonderful family, had a fun evening and although you had a little slip-up this morning, Charles and you got on really well. Your friendship hasn't been tarnished and apparently you've been so good to each other that the Leclerc family think you're a couple. 
That's another thing you need to sort out. Between the two of you and definitely with his family. Even though you've only got to know the Leclercs properly since today, you've already grown fond of them and it doesn't feel right to fib to everyone. Above all, it doesn't feel right to Pascale, who has invited you into her home and insists that you spend Christmas with them. Pascale, who has such a big heart and didn't hesitate for a moment to take you into the family. 
It's not fair to her - even if a small part of you wants to keep things the way they are. Even if it doesn't reflect reality, the word girlfriend doesn't ring false in your ears. The thought of it makes you feel warm and somehow the blood tingles in your veins. 
You blame it on the long day you've had and the fact that you're too emotionally exhausted to put one and one together. How crazy would it be if you were actually Charles' girlfriend?
You immediately push the thought aside when you return to the bedroom and see Charles lying on the bed. He continues to scroll through his phone without looking at you and doesn't even glance at you as you slip under the covers on your side of the bed. 
You want to press your face into the pillow and scream, but you can't do that because it definitely wouldn't ease the tension in the air. You could also cry quietly to yourself, but Charles would notice even that. But you could also -
"Am I still getting the back massage?" Confused, you look over at your friend, who puts his cell phone aside and looks at you. He shrugs and then runs his hand through his hair. "You said I should just ask. And I thought I'd try my luck." His hand wanders over the comforter and when he finds yours, he intertwines your fingers. 
"Charles -" you begin, but you don't know how to finish the sentence. You're relieved that he doesn't take offense at your comment and wants to ease the situation by pretending nothing happened. You would love to kiss him for it. The thought sends a warm shiver down your spine.
"Sorry," Charles apologizes as he mistakes your awkwardness for hesitation. "It was a stupid idea. I just thought -"
"It's okay," you interrupt him and squeeze his hand, whereupon he squeezes back twice. "Apparently the stool was super uncomfortable. And friends help each other, don't they?" 
The Monegasque returns your gentle smile. "Friends help each other," he repeats, his gaze flickering briefly from your eyes to your lips and back again. " 'Um - should I take my shirt off? I think that would be smarter, don't you?"
Before you can say anything back, his hand disengages from yours and in one elegant movement he pulls the garment over his head and throws it to the other end of the bed. You watch the muscles in his back flex as he slides down the bed a little and lies on his stomach without hesitation, as if he can't wait another second. 
You have to strain to tear your gaze away from him. "I think I still have some body lotion somewhere." You quickly run back to the bathroom, where you spot the cream on the shelf next to the door, and sprint back to Charles, who has put his head in his hands and is smiling at you. You stand uncertainly in front of the bed, swaying from one foot to the other. "Where - I mean - how -?"
"Just sit on my legs," he says gently and pulls the blanket off him so that you can sit on top of him. "I think that's easier than from the side. Isn't it?"
"I - I don't know," you reply quietly and stop in your tracks. Of course, it would make more sense to sit astride his legs, but then you would also be sitting on him. And you definitely don't want things to get weird between you again. 
"Just sit down, please. I won't bite." Charles reaches out and grabs your hand to pull you towards him. He doesn't let go until you swing your leg over his and get comfortable on the back of his thigh. "See? It's not so bad, is it?"
You're glad he can't see how hard you're swallowing. The fine hairs tickle the soft skin on the inside of your thighs and heat shoots into your face as you slide your butt around to find the best possible position. When you finally find it, you remove the cap from the body lotion. "Careful, it might be a bit cold."
"It's okay, it can't be that bad - oh fuck!" Charles exclaims as you pour the contents of the bottle onto his back. Goosebumps immediately spread across his back and arms and you have to stifle your laughter. "Don't you dare laugh at me. My goodness, you could have warmed up the cream in your hand!"
"Sorry," you grin and close the bottle again before placing it on the bed next to your knee. "I thought it would be easier this way."
"It's definitely meaner," Charles replies, glancing over his shoulder at you. "You owe me a longer massage for that. At least half an hour." 
"No problem," you smile. You hope he doesn't notice your hesitation, because it takes a few seconds before your head commands your hands to rest on his broad back and spread the cream. With your fingers spread apart, you glide over his spine, his shoulder blades to his neck, where you feel the first lump under your fingertips. Slowly, but firmly, you press your thumb over the spot. 
And Charles moans shamelessly. "Fuck, that feels good." He closes his eyes as you continue to work on his neck. "I think you've missed your profession."
"You think so?" you ask softly. Your fingers glide to his hairline, his muscular neck and back over his shoulders. "Maybe I wouldn't be unemployed right now."
"I'd hire you in a heartbeat." As you press the side of his left shoulder blade with your thumbs, he exhales audibly. "Yeah, right there."
Smiling, you look at him before returning to your task. "I think you're too old for that stool. I'll sit on it next time."
"You're only saying that because you're hoping for a massage too." Charles' voice sounds rough and deep, completely relaxed. With his eyes closed, he enjoys your touch and misses you biting your lower lip. 
Your mouth goes dry at the thought of feeling his hands on your bare skin. You'd be only too happy to repeat this morning's incident if it meant that nothing would change between you. That you would remain friends. 
Nervously, you slide around on his legs. "Maybe."
You don't receive an answer. In comfortable silence, you run your hands over his back, pressing certain points in his muscles that make the Monegasque hum and moan softly. It's nice to know that he can let himself go with you and that you seem to be doing him good. 
Your hands wander down to the hem of his shorts and before you can really think about it, your thumbs slide just underneath so that you can massage the marks the shorts leave on his skin too. Charles takes a gasping breath and for a moment you think you've gone a step too far, but Charles doesn't even open his eyes as he speaks. 
"I miss this."
You tilt your head, even though he's not looking at you. "What do you mean?"
"Being touched," he answers your question quietly.
You pull your fingers out from under the hem and let them glide over his spine. "We touch each other."
Charles lets out a sigh. "I know. But - I don't know." His mouth twists into a thin line. "That's something else."
"Explain it to me." 
"It's been months since I've touched anyone, or vice versa. And I'm not talking about friendly touching. What we do," he explains. You don't know why your heart tightens as if it has heard bad news. 
Your fingers trail over his shoulders and then down his arm. Goosebumps spread under your fingertips. "Okay."
"Not that I don't think it's nice," he tries to get his act together. "I love it when I hold your hand or when we cuddle in bed. That's not even up for debate." When your fingers reach his wrist, he grabs them and squeezes them twice. "I don't know how to describe it." 
"What exactly do you mean by 'touch'?" you try to draw him out. "I mean, apparently there must be a difference between what you mean and what we do."
Charles shrugs and lets go of your hand so you can continue. "I miss having my hair played with. Or having my legs rubbed." Lying down, he runs his hand through his hair once, "I don't know."
You chew the inside of your cheek. "Do you mean - I don't know - like more intimate touching?" When you hear yourself say that, you try to turn it around again. "I mean - I'm not talking about sex. But rather that emotional connection? That you feel close to someone and touching them, like playing with your fingers or rubbing your arms, feels different?"
Charles turns his head in your direction so he can look at you. "I miss being touched more intimately. I really crave it." He turns under you so that he is now lying on his back. He leans on his elbows. You don't know where to put your hands, which is why you hold them strangely in the air. You try to fix your gaze on his face, but it flickers briefly to his abs. Something that doesn't escape Charles' notice. "What about you?"
"What about me?" 
"My relationship went down the drain months ago. It's obvious I'm touch starved." He sits up straight and reaches for your hands, placing them tentatively and hesitantly on his chest. "I can't stop thinking about this morning."
You can feel his heart beating under your palm and there's a sparkle in his beautiful green eyes. "We're friends," you state the obvious. The one you agreed on. 
Charles nods. "And I don't want that to change either. I really don't." He exhales and you feel his warm breath on your face. "But don't you miss it? Being touched? Being touched intimately?"
As he licks his lips, your brain shuts down for a moment. "I've never - I don't - I -" you stumble over your words and heat rushes to your cheeks. You don't know why you're confiding in him. You don't know why your hands are wandering from his chest up to his shoulders. The only thing you can feel is Charles' arm around you, pulling you closer to him. His one leg slides between yours so that you're sitting on his bare thigh. You just hope he can't feel your arousal pooling in your shorts.
"Mon amour," he whispers and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear with his other hand. From there, his fingers glide along the soft skin of your neck, over your collarbone, along your arm, until your fingers intertwine again. "Your shorts are pretty thin." He leans forward slightly and lays a feather-light kiss on your neck. You blow all the fuses. "I can feel you dripping for me. Let me help you." His hand settles on your hip and gently he pushes you back a little on his leg, but only to pull you forward again. Electricity shoots through your veins as you moan shamelessly into his face. "Friends help each other. All you have to do is say yes."
Something primal flares in his eyes as he brings your hand to his mouth and places his lips on your knuckles. A gentle gesture that is in complete contrast to how you feel inside. Fire blazes under your skin, heat coursing through your whole body as he places your hand against his cheek, then presses a kiss to your palm. "Nothing changes," you murmur, to which Charles nods. 
"Nothing changes," he confirms. "We stay friends." His hands slowly slide under your bottom, under the hem of your shorts. You feel his hot skin on yours as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh. "I promise."
Your crotch rubs against his leg with such relish and when the hem of your shorts catches on your clit, you burn out all your fuses. "Yes."
Charles' lips find your neck as his hands cup your ass and guide you over his leg. With your mouth open and your eyebrows furrowed, you dig your fingers into his shoulder blades. Pleasure pulses through your body as his mouth moves over your neck, sucking lightly on the thin skin but not lingering long enough to leave a mark. Each kiss is gentle, the complete opposite to his grip on your ass and the way he rubs you over him. 
"Charles." Your voice is little more than a sigh and you think you can feel his raging boner against your leg, but the thought quickly fades as one of his hands pulls away from you. Instantly you miss his touch, his skin on yours, but before you can do anything, his fingers reach into your hair to gently pull your head back. 
"I'm here, mon amour," he breathes against the newly won space on your neck. Gently, he sucks where your pulse is, and you think you feel his teeth against your skin for a moment. "I'm here."
You don't know where to put your hands, so you just use them to press his face closer to you. You feel his tongue at the point where your neck meets your shoulder and arch towards him. "Please."
You don't know what you're asking for, but Charles knows all the better for it. He rocks you over his leg, which is wet and slippery from your arousal, and as your knee gently bumps against his cock, he moans into your ear. 
Absently, your hands disengage from his hair and scrape down his chest to the hem of his shorts, but before you can go an inch further, his thumb and forefinger curl around your wrists. "Mon amour, today is about you," he murmurs, kissing your cheek as he notices your disappointed look. "Don't pout. Otherwise we'll stop here and now." 
You move over his thigh on your own and, without taking the chance, you nudge his boner again with your knee. "But you said -" you begin, but Charles lets go of your hands, only to hold them behind your back. 
"Nuh-uh." His lips find their place against your collarbone. Apparently he notices that you close your eyes, because his free hand rests gently against your throat. "Look at me, mon amour." His voice is no more than a gasp as you open your eyes and look up at him pleadingly. You want him closer, want to feel his lips on yours, his cock splitting you in half. You want him to ruin you for any other men.
You approach the cliff, willing yourself to plunge down it, but when you close your eyes again, Charles merely presses your lap against his leg, preventing you from moving any further. You look at him in shock. "Charles."
"Fuck, I love it when you say my name." He holds you tight, chest to chest, and you try to move somehow, to rub against him. And he lets you. His hand loosens from your wrists while the other continues to rest on the column of your throat, but doesn't squeeze. "Look at me, mon amour," he repeats to himself, shamelessly sliding his hand inside your shorts so he can cup your ass. With one final movement, he pulls you forward, the hem of your shorts rubbing perfectly over your swollen bundle of nerves and white lightning flashes through your veins. "Look at me when you come for me."
And you do.
596 notes · View notes
azsazz · 1 day
Text
All's Well That Ends Well
Hockey!Azriel x Figure Skater!Reader
Summary: Anon Req: our figure skater bby would totally wear azzies jersey over her pretty sparkly dress if he wanted her to 🥺
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 1,044
Notes: Belongs to the Shut Out & Penance & Out of Order world
_________________________________________
Raucous clapping and cheering surround you.
Your chest heaves from exertion, but it’s a good feeling, one that goes all the way to your bones, one you know will linger for days. That’s okay, because you nailed your performance today. This competition is in the bag.
The smile you’d been forcing onto your face for the entirety of your routine turns into a real grin at the noise. You pull yourself from your ending stance, taking a quick skate around the rink one last time, waving to those in the stands. The energy in the arena is insane and you’re really feeling it, a splitting smile on your face that falters when you meet the familiar hazel gaze of Azriel.
He’s not supposed to be here.
The Velaris Bat’s have one of their most important games of the season tonight against the Springview Wolves, their rival team of almost four decades. You have no idea how the feud started and don’t care to know; something about a broken bone or a girlfriend being stolen, you have no idea and didn’t care to listen when Cassian tried explaining it to you one night at the local dive bar you’d run into a few of the players at. 
You’d turned right the fuck around when you saw them and pulled out your phone to text your friends to meet up with you somewhere else because you see enough of the hockey team whilst having to share one rink, but Azriel had caught you before you could dip outside and all but dragged you into the back alley for some precarious touching that you were not going to say no to.
You’ve been a little tense lately leading up to your competition. No one would have blamed you for what you did with the sexy hockey player.
Azriel looks proud. There’s a slight lift to the corner of his mouth, the most emotion he’ll show in public like this, even though he thrives off of the chaos of the arena when he plays. His hazel eyes sparkle as they track you, how you only have eyes for him as you skate closer, a frown on your face, no doubt wondering why the hell he’s here instead of warming up for his own game that’s set to start in a few minutes.
He couldn’t miss your performance, though. The one you’ve been raving about all semester. The one you were worried about all night a few nights ago when his head was buried between your legs. Not even that could keep you from thinking about your performance today, immediately after he’d drawn multiple orgasms from you, you went right back worrying.
Shifting on your skates, you fly toward the door. Ice sprays when you shift, stopping abruptly before passing through the door, ignoring your coach in favor of rushing over to where Azriel’s standing stock still.
“What are you doing here?” you exclaim, falling into his arms when he opens them. Your heart flutters at the feeling of his strong hands warm on your hips. He’s here, he’s really fucking here.
He’s dressed in his hockey gear, and it’s clear that instead of hitting the ice with his team he’s snuck to the finally finished rink to watch your routine. 
“Don’t worry about it, baby,” he whispers, and Azriel can’t help but pull you further into him. Can’t help but to dip down and capture you in a kiss so searing that it fully takes your breath away. It’s a little awkward, because of all of the padding he has on, but the both of you make it work. He adores the blush that stains your cheeks pink when you pull away, and it really is a shame he has his cup on right now, because his erection is pressing painfully against it. “Cass and Rhys are covering for me. I couldn’t miss this.”
“Really?” Tears fill your eyes. He’s proven himself to you, time after time, that he’s here for you, even though the both of you aren’t anything more than friends who like the feeling of each other’s fingers and tongues, hands, and intimate parts. “But your game, it’s important.” 
“I’ll make it before puck drop,” Azriel reassures, “If I leave, well, now actually. I just needed to see you. Wanted to give you this.” You hadn’t noticed the jersey hanging over his arm, but when Azriel holds it up, showing off the number eight and his last name to you. “I hate to cover up your dress because you look sexy as fuck,” he murmurs, drinking you in once again. The feeling of his hot gaze makes your knees weak. “But I’m a selfish man. I can’t have anyone else looking at you like this, baby. And I want to see my name on your back.”
Fuck, does he have a way with words.
“Okay,” you breathe, letting Azriel help you into the black and purple jersey. It drapes long over your body, the fabric swallowing you, but you don’t care because the look in Azriel’s eyes is pure fire. “How do I look?” You ask innocently, giving him a twirl and reveling in his agonized groan. 
“Tell me you’re mine tonight,” He asks gruffly, pulling you back into him by the fabric of the jersey. You move into him easily, wrapping your arms around his neck. Azriel’s breath is hot across your lips, and if you weren’t in the middle of a competition, you’d let him take you right now. “We’ll both have something to celebrate.” 
Your brows furrow in confusion and Azriel grins, tilting his head to the scoreboard behind you with your scores. You currently hold the top score for the competition, with only a few skaters left to go. Holy shit you’re in first place. 
You squeal, jumping up and down in his arms. Indeed, you’ll have something to celebrate tonight, when the Bat’s take home their win, and you with your own.
“Yes, Az. I’m yours,” you whisper, accepting his kiss. “Now, go beat the Wolves. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“You better be,” Azriel says with a wink and a teasing pinch to your ass. “I need my good luck charm there to help me win.”
_________________________________________
Hockey!AU Tag (will be tagged for any hockey fic, no matter paring):
@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @blackthorngirl @i-am-infinite @feerique
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maxtermind · 2 days
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Imagine that the reader, Charles, Lando and Carlos randomly get the idea to go to Costco and try some viral food they saw on TikTok so when they go to buy the product, Charles grabs a separate cart and when the guys ask him why if they are only going to buy one thing, he says that the reader always ends up buying too many things and then has nowhere to put them so Charles is used to carrying an extra cart because he knows his girlfriend is a compulsive shopper.
retail therapy
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★ : feat :: charles leclerc x reader ★ : genre :: fluff; crack ★ : word count :: 1.4k ★ : a/n :: i've had this in my drafts for so long. i'm so sorry love, i unfortunately suck and forget to schedule the post. thanks for the fun request <33
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You found yourself in the expansive parking lot of a large store on an otherwise ordinary Saturday afternoon, accompanied by Charles, Lando, and Carlos.
The mission? To grab the viral food product that TikTok had unanimously declared a must-try: Shin Ramyun. It was supposed to be a simple in-and-out operation, but Charles had other plans.
”Why'd you grab an extra cart?” Lando asked, one eyebrow raised in confusion as Charles nonchalantly pushed the second cart alongside his own.
”We're only buying one thing,” Carlos chimed in, clearly perplexed.
Charles sighed dramatically, casting a knowing glance at you, who were busily scrolling through your phone to find the exact aisle where the magical ramen resided.
”You guys don't understand,” Charles began, shaking his head as if explaining a basic concept to toddlers before whispering so you wouldn’t catch it. ”Y/N always ends up buying too many things. It's like she has a radar for… unnecessary purchases.”
”Hey!” you protested, looking up from your phone. ”They're not unnecessary. They're uh- useful in unexpected ways!”
”Like the 50-pound bag of gummy bears?” Charles retorted, smirking when he saw your eyes widen. ”Or the industrial-sized jar of pickles you bought last time?”
”They were on sale,” you defended, crossing your arms. ”And you love pickles.”
”I love them in moderation, not in bulk.”
”You take that back, mister!”
Lando and Carlos exchanged amused glances, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth.
”So, what's the plan?” Lando asked, eager to get the show on the road.
”Simple,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. ”We go in, get the Shin Ramyun, and maybe... just maybe... see if there are any good deals.”
Charles rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. ”And this,” he said, gesturing to the extra cart, ”is why we can't have nice, quick shopping trips.”
You entered the store, greeted by the overwhelming scent of bulk goods and free samples. You navigated through the aisles, Charles dutifully pushing one carts, while Lando and Carlos alternatively pushed the other.
”Okay, the Shin Ramyun should be in aisle 12,” you announced, leading the way. ”But we should definitely check out the electronics section first. You never know when there's a sale.”
”We're here for food,” Charles reminded you, though his tone was more resigned than stern.
”And electronics,” you added cheerfully. ”Come on, it's right this way.”
Lando nudged Carlos, whispering, ”Ten bucks says our bill will be over two grand.”
”Mate, talk around five and you're on,” Carlos replied with a grin.
Sure enough, as you wandered through the electronics section, your eyes lit up at the sight of a massive flat-screen TV on sale.
”Look at this deal!” you exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement. ”We could totally use a new TV.”
The boys behind you just shook their heads and to appease them, you slowly started, ”I’m just saying that the bonus I got last week has got to—”
”You guys have a TV,” Lando snickered.
”Yes, but not this TV,” you said, gesturing dramatically. ”Think about movie nights! Think about the sports games! Think about—”
”Think about where we're going to put it,” Charles interrupted, though he was already losing the battle. The allure of a good deal was strong, even for him. You could see it in his eyes that he was already almost convinced.
”Fine,” you huffed anyway, moving along. ”But we're coming back for it if we have room.”
Lando and Carlos exchanged looks, trying to stifle their laughter.
”You guys are a mess,” Carlos said, shaking his head. ”This is better than Netflix.”
”Just wait until we hit the snack aisle,” Lando added, trying to be discreet but you caught it. ”That's when things get really interesting.” He just gave you a nervous cheeky smile in return as you glared.
As you made your way to aisle 12, you inevitably got distracted by various items along the way. A giant jar of Nutella? In the cart. A set of high-end kitchen knives? In the cart. A year's supply of toilet paper? In the cart.
Charles dutifully followed, pushing the now significantly heavier cart with an air of resigned amusement. ”See?” he said to Lando and Carlos. ”This is why I grabbed an extra cart.”
Finally, you reached the aisle with the viral TikTok food product. There it was, Shin Ramyun, in all its spicy glory, stacked high and tempting.
”Here it is!” you said triumphantly, grabbing several boxes and adding them to the cart. ”Mission accomplished.”
”Can we leave now?” Charles asked, though he already knew the answer.
”Not yet,” you replied, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. ”We need to check out the outdoor section. Summer's coming, and we could use some new patio furniture.”
Charles groaned, but there was no real annoyance in it. He knew this was just how your trips to the store went. Besides, there was something endearing about your enthusiasm for finding deals and stocking up on... well, everything.
As you wandered through the outdoor section, Lando and Carlos tried out various patio chairs and loungers, providing a running commentary that kept everyone entertained. You found a particularly nice set that you insisted would look perfect in your backyard.
”Think of all the barbecues we could have,” you said, looking at Charles with pleading eyes.
Charles sighed, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. ”Fine, but this is the last thing. I mean it.”
”Promise,” you said, kissing him lightly while your friends fake gagged in the background.
You made your way to the checkout, carts overflowing with all manner of items. The staff recognized the boys and immediately started asking for photos and signatures as you guys waited for your turn.
That’s when Charles moved around and squeezed,”Gotta run to the toilet, I’ll be back in two?” He leaned down to whisper.
You shrugged and nodded your head, instead discussing Lando's new apartment with him. Failing to notice how Carlos was nowhere in sight either.
The cashier raised an eyebrow but didn't comment as she rang up the seemingly endless stream of products.
She was on the last few products when you heard Lando sigh under his breath and as you turned around, you saw Charles and Carlos carrying the box of the TV that you were eyeing.
Your own eyes widened as you jumped up and down and screamed,”No way, I love you!” Charles just snorted as skipped towards him.
He set the TV down and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug. ”I couldn't resist,” he admitted, his voice soft. ”Your excitement is contagious.”
You beamed up at him, feeling the love and warmth in his embrace. ”You always know how to make me feel loved.”
Charles kissed your forehead, his eyes twinkling. ”Cmon, babe. It’s like breathing for me now”
Lando and Carlos approached, carrying the last few bags and boxes. ”You two are adorable,” Lando teased, nudging Carlos. ”A bit nauseating, but adorable.”
As you left the store, pushing your heavily-laden carts towards the car, Lando and Carlos couldn't help but laugh.
”I owe you ten bucks,” Lando said, nudging Carlos.
Charles wrapping an arm around you. ”What do you think we can do with our old TV?” You smirked before looking over at Lando and Carlos who were loading the car.
”You know the way Lando bought a new apartmen—” Your boyfriend threw his head back and laughed before you could even finish.
”God, baby, I love you! Compulsive shopping and all.”
You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling. ”And I love that you always bring an extra cart. Just in case.”
”So, what's the first thing we do with all this stuff?” Carlos asked, squeezing the last box into the trunk.
”Easy,” you said with a grin. ”We head home and have a fun game session with some Shin Ramyun and a movie on our new TV.”
Lando snickered. ”Sounds like the perfect end to a perfect shopping spree.”
”And if anyone asks,” Charles added with a wink, ”this was all part of the therapy. Sometimes, a little retail indulgence is just what the doctor ordered.”
”Retail therapy,” you said, snuggling into Charles as you drove off. ”It's cheaper than real therapy. Sometimes.”
Charles laughed, kissing the top of your head. ”And way more fun.”
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(grid masterlist \ masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
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bloobharry · 2 days
Text
How’s your head? H.S
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She never thought she’d be into something like this.
Something which reduced her to such a filthy, whiney mess.
That too from her best friend.
Or,
Harry is Y/N’s best friend, and he just wants the best for her.
Content warning: mature content.
Word count: 3.8K
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When Y/N told Harry she wanted to hang out with him Friday afternoon, she didn’t quite think it would end up like this.
The original plan was to essentially do nothing all night. After a long, tiring week at work, nothing satisfied Y/N more than lazing around on her couch and snacking on all the chocolate sitting in her pantry she had been fantasising about having while at her desk. It was always nice to have someone do these things with you, though, where both parties could lie in silence, munch on snacks and glue their eyes to the television to forget everything that happened in the past workdays.
Y/N quickly realised Harry was the perfect person for this. He didn’t have much going on for him either so there was no reason why he would turn down a night of gorging Y/N’s pantry and flopping over her hunched body on the sofa so they could watch whatever show she was recently obsessing over.
And that was how the night started.
Harry came over at about 7, with a pizza for takeaway and a large soda, and claimed the furthest right corner of the couch, snuggled up with Y/N’s cat Lola. While Lola took her time sniffing Harry’s fingers and tentatively licking his knuckles, Y/N warmed up some popcorn and ruffled Harry’s hair as she walked past him to her spot on the other end of the sofa. “Heeeeeey,” he began, a furrow in his brows, “you can’t just do that. I put a lot of work into making it look this good.” Y/N rolled her eyes, “if it looks like that after all the work I’m afraid you’re not doing enough, Harry.” He didn’t say anything, only scoffed and shoved her legs slightly from where she had swung them on his lap, “you need to pull that stick out of your ass. Let off some steam or something.”
“Right and do you want to volunteer as my punching bag?” She retorted. She wasn’t really trying to be mean, a teasing grin on her lips when he feigned offence once more, “that’s not what I meant. There are other ways to release tension, you know,” he said.
“Harry, if you want me to drop-kick you, just say i—“
“What I want is for you to go out and get a good dicking so you can stop being such a menace to me.”
“I’m not being a menace, this is just how I am. I thought you’d know that by now.” Y/N’s eyes widen, looking at him like she can’t believe he hadn’t realised her quip-y and teasing comments have been entirely satire. “Menace or not, it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been on edge lately and could go for an orgasm not brought to you by your vibrator.”
“Harry!”
”What? I’m just saying,” he said through a smirk. Y/N’s eyes narrow at his dishevelled sight, his hair just touching his collarbones and his black sweater swallowing him whole. “My orgasms are perfectly fine, thank you. And my vibrator does a very good job at helping me ‘let off steam’.”
He sighs, almost mockingly. “When’s the last time you got laid?”
“Why would I tell you?”
”Because I’m your friend. I promise I’m just trying to help,” he says sincerely. The dim lighting of the living room made his eyes sparkle and Y/N avoided eye contact by fiddling with her fingers.
God, there was just something about the fucker that made a person want to spill every secret before his jade gaze. “I dunno. Maybe five, six months?”
“Jesus Christ Y/N, what the fuck? Weren’t you seeing Daniel like 3 weeks ago?” His voice goes up a few octaves, looking at her all bewildered. “It’s Danny,” she corrected him, “and I stopped texting him a while back. He was a bore in real life and quite frankly, a bore in bed.” Danny was one of Y/N’s coworkers' brothers who she had tried setting her up with, and Y/N did have some fun with him at first. It was always nice having someone to flirt with back and forth and get compliments from every now and then but he just never scratched that itch for Y/N. She ended up ghosting him 2 dates in and she knows that's a dick move, but really a second more of listening to him go on and on about his mum and how much his new PC game cost would make Y/N want to gauge out her own eyeballs with a dinner fork.
“Did he ever get you off?” Harry asked. Y/N was incredibly appalled, not appreciating his prying hands all over her sex life. Or lack thereof. “No and that’s none of your business anyway, jeez.”
“There you go again, snapping at me. You know if you’ll ask me nicely I’ll stop.” He sat up against the arm rest, fingers grazing her bare leg from when he pulled it back on his lap. Y/N knew she could ask him to stop asking her all these questions and he would, but was it really a conversation with her if she wasn’t being at least a little bit hard to read?
Besides, maybe it would do her some good talking about it and whatever advice he had might actually help her out. Harry seemed to be more than well-equipped when it came to charming the heck out of someone and working his way into their pants. “Sorry,” she sighed, rubbing her eye, “no, he didn’t get me off. We never actually had sex, I just gave him a blowie once and he tried to go down on me.”
Harry smiled softly knowing he got her to crack and squeezed her calf, “tried?” He knew he was treading on dangerous waters here, wedging his fingers between Y/N’s brain and asking her to recall her time with Danny.
“Yes, tried. It was fucking awful.”
She didn’t meet his eyes, busying herself with the strings on her hoodie, “and he definitely came in your mouth?” Y/N’s cheeks went pink, and she quickly pulled her legs away from him, “Harry!” Her voice was high pitched and defensive, and while her mind told her that maybe confiding all this in Harry isn’t the smartest thing, her heart wanted to see where an odd conversation like this could lead.
“I’m just asking!”
She hesitated, narrowing her eyes. “Yeah.”
“Well fuck, Y/N, sorry to say it but you were seeing an absolute douche.” Harry makes this diagnosis like Y/N didn’t already know, his fingers reaching for her legs again, tugging them onto his thighs with a strength that made her tummy flip. He ran a hand through his unruly hair. “I know. It was fun but I didn’t want anything more with him.”
“Good. But you still need a good fuck. One where you actually get to come and don’t come back home all high and dry.”
Y/N gasps, trying to get off him again but Harry holds her down, laughing at her bright red embarrassed face, “you’re such a dick I hate you.”
His dimples dug deep into the soft of his cheeks, and he pulled her legs so she was sitting much closer to him. Her ass touched the edge of his thighs and she could feel the warmth radiating off of him, making her skin even hotter. Y/N remained frowning, shoving his chest when he wouldn’t stop giggling, “stop laughing, Harry!” For obvious reasons that doesn’t work and the little genuine crink in her eyebrows had him almost cooing and smiling wide at the same time. When she didn’t let up the frown and tried to move back to her spot, Harry only grabbed her hips and pulled her back, close enough that her ass was now on top of his thighs, “okay, okay I’m sorry. You’ve got a really funny angry face.”
Y/N was near seething at this point, gearing up for an attack, “I’ll show you an angry face,” she tried lunging for his hair again but very quickly realised she failed to take into consideration her position when he instantly caught her wrists in between his long fingers, holding them tight but not enough to hurt her, “okay, John Cena let’s take a breather.”
God, was he able to make her skin absolutely crawl at times. He was still holding her wrists when he brought them down, watching her blazingly. She didn’t realise how far she had shuffled into his lap and how close his face was to hers until now. Until she could smell the strawberry mints he was sucking on on his breath.
She made a half-hearted attempt to smack his chest, but his hold only tightened around her, suddenly dragging her even closer to him over the soft fabric of his sweats. Y/N held her breath. He was too close to her, his nose daring to touch hers. She’d never been in such a vulnerable position with him and she might possibly just faint if he didn’t stop staring at her mouth and then her eyes, flicking his gaze between the two like he couldn’t decide where to settle.
She moved her head back, trying to create some space between the pair, “what are you doing Harry.” The sound she makes is an odd one— one that she doesn’t make often and it’s desperate and needy, akin to a weepy whine. His fingers finally loosened enough for her to break free and she quickly moved her face away from his where it seems like it was magnetically pulling her closer and closer.
Harry didn’t say anything for a while and Y/N found herself frozen in her spot, still right on his lap. “What’s going on here, hmm?” He said, glancing down.
Y/N followed his gaze, confused at first and it took her a moment to realise what he was insinuating. His fingers grazed her hips. “What’s got you all squirmy on my lap?”
He was still staring right into her eyes, making her go crazy with the stolen glances at her lips with every passing second. Meanwhile Y/N’s chest heaved and she unintentionally shuffles again, “fuck, Y/N.” Harry’s voice was deep and groan-y, vibrating through her body when his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “I’m not squirmy, Harry shut up.” She was lying right to his face and her poor attempt at covering her actions made him laugh again. The sound was teasing, nothing like the light-hearted giggles spilling from his lips when he found her angry face amusing.
“You’re a terrible liar, Y/N.” His fingers fell to her upper thighs, which he gripped harshly. Only then when she couldn’t move did Y/N realise she really was practically rubbing herself against him, milking even the slightest pressure against her heat from his warm, pliant lap. Her face pinkened again, embarrassment coursing through her veins and making her want to dig a hole and hide in it forever. She couldn’t believe what she had just been caught doing.
Y/N expected him to fully push her off his lap, disgusted by her basically humping his leg, but he didn’t.
Instead, he dug his fingers into her skin and slowly helped her move back and forth, pushing her down just slightly to give her the friction she was searching for. Y/N’s mouth dropped open in another little whine.
“Will you let me, then?” His eyes searched hers, gaze sincere, though Y/N didn’t know what he was implying, only half listening to him. She was clearly preoccupied with the delicious pressure pressing right up against her clothed clit.
“What?”
Harry laughed, a large, ringed hand slipping over her ass to squeeze lightly. “I said, will you let me make you feel good? Help you relax? Have you gone dumb already, baby?” Y/N couldn’t really do much other than nod frantically, afraid he might pull away if she didn’t say yes. The pet name melts her even further, paired with the way he was holding her like he was going to swallow her whole made her insides slosh.
She preens under his gaze, now holding the front of his sweater tightly between her fingers. “Yes,” Y/N breathed, “yes please.”
Harry wondered for a second if she was agreeing to being cockdumb or agreeing to him touching her but nonetheless he took it as his queue to push her off his lap and position her the way he wanted.
“I—what, I thought you we—“ Y/N protests, neediness evident in her voice and her hands which chased after his warmth, like she was afraid he was going to leave her be in this desperate state. Harry only pressed on her shoulder until she laid back on her back, hands coming to part her legs so he could fit between them, “shh.” A wet kiss was pressed to her cheek, like comforting a rabid animal, which Y/N was feeling exactly like as she stared at Harry’s frame cowering hers.
His curls hung past his ears and tickled her face when he slotted his hips between her legs so she could continue grinding down on him, “who knew you were such a needy little thing?” Y/N sighed in response. Another suckling kiss was pressed to her jaw, “do you need me to make you feel good, baby? Hmm? Need me to make it better?”
The way he was talking to her made her feral.
She had trouble believing this was the same Harry who irritated her to no end and pushed all her buttons to rile her up. Except this time he was pushing other kinds of buttons, moving his body around hers so perfectly Y/N wondered if this was like second nature to him.
“Yes. Please don’t tease me.” She commanded him and Harry chuckled at her desperation, lips sponging these warm, slow, gooey kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. When she went to sift her fingers through his curly hair, he pulled back to look at her. “You’re so bossy,” he accuses, pulling her thighs further up his hips, “it’s okay though. I’ll fuck the attitude right of you.” He grinded down against her, one strong roll of his bulge against her heat. “Are we going to have sex, Harry?”
“No.” He grinned.
“Why?” Y/N’s eyes crinkled in pain like he just told her her cat died and her lip jutted out in a pout which Harry quickly tucked away with his thumb. “Because,” he started, using that same hand to wrap around her throat, “we need to talk about that before we do anything. Don’t want to lose my best friend, do I?”
His rejection almost made Y/N cry and she would have had Harry not tightened his hand around her jugular. The cold press of his rings sent shivers down Y/N’s spine. “Why would you say anything then?” She asked, craning her neck to allow him more room to cover with his palm.
“I said I won’t have sex with you. Didn’t say I wouldn’t make you feel good.”
With that, he took the hand that made a home around her throat and patted her cheek, hard enough that the feeling went straight down to her tummy but soft enough that it didn’t hurt her like someone might think it would. He crawled further down her body, shoving her hoodie up with his hands and exposing her stomach to the cold air of the room. Y/N thinks he was trying to keep up some boundaries, bunching the shirt just below her tits like protecting some kind of modesty and pressing ticklish kisses across her skin and down her belly button. Her body tingled with anticipation, breath bated and eyes glazed as she watched him.
She felt him nuzzle into her tummy and inhale loudly, “you smell so fucking good.” Y/N giggled, taking pride in her extensive shower routine and incessant rubbing of various lotions into her skin, “thank you.”
When his mouth reached the waistband of her tiny shorts he murmured a small, “can I take these off?” To which Y/N hummed in agreement. She couldn’t agree with anything more. If Harry walked up and out of this room right now, Y/N was certain she would die.
Once they’re off, Y/N realised she was completely at his mercy. Her underwear is the only thing protecting her modesty, and with how wet she’s feeling, she doubts there’s anything left to the imagination down there, “would you look at that. You’ve soaked right through.” His fingers toyed with the edge of her wet gusset.
Another embarrassingly desperate sound left her throat and she pushed her hips in the air in search of some friction. Harry delivered a harsh slap to her thigh, “don’t move.”
His stern voice did unimaginable things for her but she complied and tried to stay as still as she could, which seemed like a task for the impossible with the teasing touches Harry delivered to her skin.
She never thought she’d be into something like this.
Something which reduces her to such a filthy, whiney mess.
That too from her best friend.
Harry doesn’t do anything for a while, just admiring how her pussy looked soaked through her panties, playing around with the lace lining of the fabric. He grabbed the gusset and pulled it tight against her so her folds swallow the cotton, “fuck. A little manhandling and this is what happens?” He more so makes a statement rather than asking her, punctuating his words by leaning down to lick a wide, sloppy strip across the cloth. It makes Y/N squeal and attempt to shut her thighs but Harry makes sure to hold her down, biceps bulging.
He pulled back to drop his fingers firmly against her clit, just keeping them there pressed tightly, feeling her heartbeat against the tips. “I thought I told you not to move.”
“Yes, I’m sorry please, please don’t stop.”
He went back to nosing at her covered clit, not making any attempt to wrap his lips around it. At this point Y/N was itching in anticipation, every ounce of her working not to rut her hips in his face and ride his tongue like she wanted to. When he finally touches her again, it's where the wetness pooled, soft suckling kisses over the fabric which made Y/N’s heart and pussy flutter.
She was incredibly frustrated, wanting nothing more than to rip her underwear off and shove his face into her but she held back, not sure if Harry would appreciate that after he made it clear time and time again how he preferred her to remain immobile while he played with her. Instead she waited until he was through with kissing every inch of her and when he finally peeled off her panties, she could practically come just from the prospect of having his mouth on her.
He doesn’t give her a second to think though, because his mouth is unrelenting. Teasing the tip of her button with his tongue before circling his lips around it and suckling in sweet, soft pulses. The sensation has her panting and gasping, squeezing his head between her thighs while one of his arms swung across her hips to keep her down and the other wiggled between the two to push her lips apart in a V shape. With her clit now exposed to the cool air, Harry zeroed in on the nerve and worked magic with his tongue, flicking it up, down, left, right and circling the button with such fevor Y/N could burst.
What electrified the experience was the sounds in the room, which were just sinful.
Her pussy squelched with each suckle Harry gave, making Y/N moan and pull Harry’s curls which in turn had him groaning lowly against her. It was an endless cycle of pornographic music.
When he pulls away from her clit, the pulsing it does is almost amusing, like it was personally begging for Harry’s attention. Instead he kissed down the length of her slit and took his time playing around with her folds, slicking her hole and letting his spit drip down to her ass.
It was so perfect and messy.
Before she knew it, Y/N’s thighs were shaking and Harry’s tongue was back to abuse her poor button. A couple more flicks and a harsh kiss pushed Y/N over the edge, her orgasm washing over her and nearly blinding her. It’s euphoric and the most intense she’s ever felt, no vibrator of hers or cock she’s ever had compared to what she was feeling and even then Harry didn’t let up on her pussy. He continued his assault, now both of his arms locking around her hips to tone down her thrashing. Only when she pushed his forehead away did he finally depart with a final lick across her slit and smiled at her fucked-out state.
He wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb and brought it to his lips, sitting up between her legs which she clinked shut. A second passes.
“Are you okay?” Y/N’s eyes were shut, an arm thrown across her forehead. “I think so.”
Harry giggled, leaning over her to remove her arm, “how’s it feel?”
“S’good. It was really nice. Thanks.” She was slightly dazed, too far gone to really understand what was going on. Her limbs felt like jell-o and she let Harry kiss her cheek again before lending her a hand to help her sit up. “I’m glad. Come on now. We need to clean you up.”
She doesn't know how she stood up from that godforsaken couch and how she made it to the bathroom, Lola returning from her retreat to her bedroom to wind around her ankles. Harry bent down to pet between her ears, “hello babydoll. Did you miss me?” He cooed.
She looked down at the pair and Harry easily sensed her wary gaze. A dashing smile was sent her way. “Do you need me to get you some underwear? Or are you afraid I’ll stumble across your array of sex toys?”
Y/N rolled her eyes. He was still the Harry she knew before he gave her the best head she ever received.
“You’re such a dick.”
“A dick that gave you the best orgasm of your life.” She couldn’t even argue with him on that. Instead, she flipped him off and disappeared into her room. Once she was all changed and wearing a fresh pair of undies and shorts, she walked out to see Harry passed out on the couch with Lola snuggled into his throat. It was then when her head finally returned to the ground and she realised the gravity of the situation.
The looming prospect of a long, painful chat in the morning hung over Y/N like a dark cloud, filling her with a gnawing sense of dread she suddenly couldn’t seem to shake.
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Divider by @firefly-graphics
Hiiiii i hope you like this one, first time posting in a long time so feeling a little nervous omg … leave feedback if you have any!!! Mwuahh
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svtswhorehouse · 3 days
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OT 13 : edging vs overstimulation
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Seungcheol : overstimulation. honestly, i feel as if he’s the type of person to use it as a punishment. ya’ll would probably go through like a hundred different positions and he’ll make you cum with every single one before he can switch to the next. would hit you with that faux sympathy and imitate a pouty face when he slows down to check on you. when you say you’re okay, he’ll slam back into you again. won’t stop until you use your safe word, but will take a break if you really need it. needs to see your mascara running, desperate doe eyes, and fucked out expression the entire time.
Jeonghan : edging. oh baby, good luck with this one. A MENACE. would probably do it for hours until you’re crying and a babbling mess. he lowkey gets off on how pathetic and dumb you get for him. likes being begged, so he might gaslight you into thinking you don’t want it as much as you say you do which will make you even more desperate. the type to use anything from his tongue, to his dick, to toys — you’ve grown to hate vibrators overtime. also another one who would fake being sympathetic and imitate your sad face. he would probably play dumb like “what baby? why are you crying?” he’s a meanie overall, and will do it just for fun but he’ll make you feel good so don’t you worry your pretty little head.
Joshua : edging. he’s honestly such a sweet and caring person, but he’s also friends with jeonghan and apart of the 95’ line so what do you expect. some days he would choose to be nice, but other days he would decide to be a tease. honestly, not that bad though. he would only do it for a little while before deciding you’ve had enough. lowkey likes it when you cry. he has the biggest hands in seventeen so he utilizes them a lot, especially when it comes to you. enjoys the way you clench around them whenever he stops. he definitely takes time to examine your face which a teasing smile and ask you “what’s wrong,” even though he knows he’s being an ass.
Jun : edging. tbh, does it just to laugh and be a little shit. will be fingering you, pull away really quickly and look back up at you with a smile on his face. will probably be like “ha, you thought,” or “gotcha.” let’s out the cutest giggle whenever he does it that sometimes it’s difficult for you to be mad at him. does it a few times before you smack him on his shoulder and threaten him with no pussy for a week. will definitely let you cum after that.
Hoshi : overstimulation. HOSHI IS A MUNCH AND NO ONE CAN CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE. would probably choose to live between your thighs if you let him tbh. def eats pussy like he’s a starved man and it’s his last meal he’ll ever have. probably enjoys it more than you do. you can push him away all you want, but he’ll come right back (will literally beg you if that’s what it takes, he loves pussy). main dancer and his stamina is insane, so he doesn’t mean to overstimulate you really, he can just go for hours. you would definitely have to take breaks in between rounds with this one.
Wonwoo : edging. finds it amusing. might tie you up, just to keep you still whenever he decides to go to town on your pussy. he’ll shoot you a little smirk from time to time which will end up pissing you off because he def knows he’s being an asshole. prefers to edge you with his cock, he likes the way your pussy flutters around it whenever he stops. also, his favorite time to do it is whenever he’s gaming. he’ll have you sit on his cock and have you do all the work while he plays a video game. it’s only when your whines start getting louder and movements start to get fast when he’ll place a firm hand on your hip and hold you in place. loves when you look at him all teary eyed, but still promises he’ll make you feel good after. no one said how long his game was gonna last though so good luck.
Woozi : wild card. depends on what HE feels like. you have no say. you just shut your mouth and look pretty for him. if he’s stressed he’ll edge you, but if he needs a mental break or something, he’ll overstimulate you. will definitely happen in his studio the most, just cause that’s where most of his stress leads back to — writing and producing. enjoys cockwarming while he works, but if you’re being stubborn and moving too much, he’ll decide to fuck and overstimulate you. will be like “i thought this is what you wanted baby? couldn’t stay still cause you wanted my cock so bad hm?”
Dokyeom : overstimulation. he’s just happy to please overall. also another one that doesn’t mean to overstimulate you. he just wants to make you feel good and when you try and push him away, he just might look at you with puppy dog eyes. also loves when you sit on his face, he feels like he can be as messy as he wants. asks why you’re crying, but not in a mocking type of way, he just genuinely doesn’t know that it feels too good that it’s getting hard to hold yourself up. it’s a good thing he’s strong.
Mingyu : overstimulation. i feel like he has an oral fixation and cures it by eating you out tbh. this big and beefy man specifically loves it when you sit on his face. if you hover over him for a second too long, he’s pulling you down and holding you in place. obviously he’s ridiculously strong so when you try and pull away, he doesn’t let you. will gaslight you into thinking you can take one more, even if it’s the hundredth time and you’ll agree just because it feels too good to say no. will cage you in with his arms and fucks you so good you wouldn’t be able to utter an audible sentence. likes when yours eyes get all dazed and it looks as if there’s not a thought in your head. he’ll be on a mission to make you squirt.
Minghao : edging. says that you need to practice patience ???? might use it as a learning experience for you ???? might make you want to kill him after ???? lmao. i feel as if he’s more likely to deny your orgasm completely than to edge you. like he would edge for a bit, but overall wouldn’t let you cum. he says it’s to learn to be more patient, but really he just enjoys how desperate and whiny you get after. will definitely fuck you nice and good when y’all get in bed for the night. might tease you by edging you once, but when tears start to brim your eyes, he’ll let up. just, be a good girl for him and don’t piss him off.
Seungkwan : edging. honestly, he’s sweet with it. will check in on you often and make sure you’re doing okay. seungkwan’s favorite way of edging you is by literally having you grind on his thigh. he enjoys how easy it is to get you off and likes to see his skin coated with your slick. also, he def knows his quads are strong af so why would you not wanna ride his thigh? will mutter words of encouragement and praise, even when he stops your movements. knows that him shaking his leg really helps so he’ll stop moving altogether when he feels like you’re getting close. a sucker for your tears so he might give in if you play your cards right.
Vernon : honestly, whatever you want. goes with the flow and the mood. vernon is the type of guy who might let you take the lead. if you wanted to dom for the night then okay. if you wanted to fuck in a bathroom then okay. if you wanted to be edged or overstimulated then he will help you. won’t do it as a punishment, but it’s also not something that he thinks of. you might have to bring it up or give him hints before he can act on it. you might also have to control it so like when you think you’re gonna cum you might have to push him away, or if you want to be overstimulated, just take the lead and hold him close.
Dino : overstimulation. another main dancer right here. he has a lot of energy in him. you would want it as much as he’s happy to give it though. y’all are definitely the type of couple to fuck like two bitches in heat. he would be on a mission to either see how many surfaces y’all could fuck on or how many rounds he’s capable of going which will therefore lead to you getting overstimulated. honestly, doesn’t mean to overstimulate you he just gets a little excited. will apologize after and be so soft with you though so it’s okay.
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un-lawliet · 2 days
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Can I PLEASE request more soft gojo fics pleaseee. Maybe in jujitsu tech where he barges in the class we're teaching just to give us a goodbye kiss because he's going on a mission and he just can't go without a kiss! 🥺
“Teacher, Teacher”
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-in which Gojo visits you before he leaves for his mission.
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“And so Maki!” You say, staring down at the faces of your students, your arms opening in a hug like motion towards them.
“When using any of your cursed tools, make sure you protect your weak points, it’s essential!”
It was late in the afternoon, and you were currently going over your students last performance in training, your eyes lit up with passionate praise as you evaluated their improvements.
Maki nods, her face resting on her palm, her glasses slipping down her nose slightly.
“Now..Panda.” You turn, looking at him a grin on your face.
Panda straightens, cocking his fluffy head in acknowledgement to your engagement.
You giggle, “Well, you did great! However, maybe try to rely a little less on your size and more on the technical aspect of your attacks.”
“Tuna.” You hear Inumaki sigh, rubbing his shin in which Panda had sat on mid battle.
“If I have the weight shouldn’t I use it?” Panda questions gently, ignoring Inumaki entirely.
You nod, “Of course! Just not to the point where your entire strength hinges on it…If that makes sense..”
“Try throw a punch she means.” Maki interrupts, leaning back in her chair yawning.
“Salmon.”
“Listen, I can’t help it if my battle tactics are different from you’s two” Panda huffs.
“So what? You gonna sit on a curse?”
“Maybe I will.” Panda replies, sticking out his chest, “See if they can handle me!”
Inumaki’s shoulder slumps as he writes something on the book in front of him before holding it up.
“You’ll get destroyed.”
“The hell? No I won’t.”
Maki leans over to read Inumaki’s writing before laughing to herself, “He has a point y’know”
“Stupid point.”
“Bonito flakes.”
“Ooh someone’s mad I beat him.”
“OoOoh some Panda’s mad that he gets annihilated by a grade 4 curse.” Maki cheekily replies, her eyes glimmering with mischief.
“Hey!” You interupt, “Nobodys getting annihilated when I’m the teacher.”
Your students sigh and turn back to you, Inumaki sticking out his tounge to Panda in his movements.
And you giggle to yourself fondly.
You love being a teacher.
After training at Jujutsu Tech it seemed the only natural course for you, you had strength of course, but your real talent stemmed from your ability to create battle plans that exploited sorcerers strengths and disguised their weaknesses.
Yaga had welcomed you as a co-worker just a couple days after your graduation, his grin wide as he explained your duties before frowning at someone behind you.
“And what are you doing here Satoru.”
“What? I’m here to teach.”
“Huh?” You had said turning to look at him.
Even Shoko, who you would tease for her stoicism, raised an eyebrow.
“You’re gonna teach?” She said, “You.”
Gojo placed a hand on his heart, a dramatic showing of offence present in the way he opened his mouth and gasped, “Is it that weird?”
“Yes.” You all deadpanned.
Yaga scratched the back of his head, “Never in all my years of teaching you, have you ever shown an interest in teaching.”
“Well, it’s different now.” Gojo replied simply, grinning at his previous teacher, gloating. “Someone has to look after this one.” He nodded towards you, winking.
“Look after me??” You exclaim, turning to face him fully, your arms crossed, “I’m more than capable of-”
“Is this about Geto?” Shoko had asked plainly, resting her chin on her palm, staring Gojo out.
All of you went silent.
“No, not at all.”
Gojos’ expression had turned cold, as if the very mention of his best friend could freeze any conversation, any fleeting moment. You felt uneasy, your body closing in on itself to fight off the chill.
“Are you sure-”
“Yes.”
It was awkward.
Gojo and Shoko staring at eachother, as if commuting in a silent battle in which you and Yaga could not understand.
Quiet. Until Yaga interupted with a sigh, shaking his head.
“You’ll have to do an interview.”
“HUH?” Gojo replied, his head swinging back to Yaga, breaking his battle with Shoko instantaneously.
“Y/N didn’t need an interview?”
“Y/N is not a reckless.”
“Neither am I!!”
And you remember laughing into your palm, the pain of the past dissipating for a split second, as Gojo pouted, and followed Yaga into his office, as Shoko congratulated you on your new job.
Your new job that you had kept for the last 10 years.
…With Satoru Gojo.
Who had somehow, along the way, stole your heart.
Your phone buzzes from your desk, and you glance at it to see a message for Satoru, asking you if you wanted anything back from his mission later.
You deflate a little at the reminder.
You weren’t going to see Gojo before his mission due to your scheduled classes with the second years.
It had been a while since you had properly spent time with him, you missed seeing his silly face.
You sigh, you’ll reply later.
“So Maki, were you with Nobara yesterday?” You hear Panda start as you tune back into your students conversation.
“Huh? Yea? We were training.”
“Oh oh oh…Private training sessions…” Panda smirks, and you swear Maki’s glare could kill.
“Salmonnn~.”
“Shut up Inumaki.”
“Look Inumaki she’s totally blushing!” Panda laughs, you think it sounds more like a roar.
“That’s it! I swear to God, next training session I will fuc-”
The sliding door behind you opens, and you turn to see your boyfriend waltz into the room, bending to pass through the threshold.
“There she is!” Gojo says, opening his arms in your direction.
“Oh here we go.” Maki mutters.
Gojo was beaming, his mouth carrying the weight of his expression, teeth bared in a wide grin, eyes hidden behind his blindfold.
He raised his arms and walked towards you, ignoring your students exasperation, only focusing on you.
“Hello!” You say, as he pulls you into his chest, giving you a big; dramatic kiss on your head, swaying gently.
“Thought you were leaving?” You question, leaning towards him.
“I was, but someone didn’t reply to my text.” Gojo huffs back, pulling away to watch your face.
“How can I face this world’s dangers if I’m being ignored!?”
“You just sent it Toru.”
“Aha! So you did see it!”
“I was gonna reply later.”
Gojo shakes his head, pouting, “Not good enough.”
You watch amused as he taps his cheek twice, challenging you.
You giggle rising up on your feet to kiss his cheek, before you push him away by the chest.
“Go!” You say, your voice light, “You got your goodbyes, don’t let me hold you back.”
And he just looks at you, a soft smile on his face and you miss the cheeky look he gives you before leaning down and quickly kissing you.
It was small and gentle, and you barely register the disgusted groans of your students, your cheeks warning.
“I’ll be home by 10.” Gojo says, patting your head, “Don’t wait up for me if you’re tired yea?”
And you nod, although you both know that you’ll stay up to see him regardless.
“Be safe!” You call after him, as he walks away, a spring in his step.
“Always am baby!”
And then he’s gone, and you’re left speechless and smiling.
“God, can we leave?” Maki groans, “I feel sick.”
“You just wish that was you and Nobara Maki.” Panda teases, and you hear Inumaki laugh, slapping the desk.
Maki’s face turns bright red and she stands up from her desk, pointing a finger at Panda.
“You and me outside now, we can see if Pandas can survive being buried alive!”
“Oh it’s on!”
You lift an eyebrow and all three of them rise, not bothering to stop them.
“Please try not to kill each other.” You call after them, laughing as Inumaki salutes you before he exits.
…You love being a teacher.
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masterlist <3
FEEL FREE TO LEAVE A REQUEST
A/N THANK U FOR THE REQUEST !!! i decided just to write it silly, just bc i’m not too good at the characterisation of the second year students EEK so i hope this is ok !!!!! i love gojo <3 also i wrote this instead of getting ready for work so AHHHHHH i have to panic get ready now so that’s fun
i love you all have a lovely LOVELY day thank u for reading :)
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distantdarlings · 2 days
Text
HIS OWN MEDICINE // t. nott
RATING: R / 3.6K WORDS
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Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert
+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Your best friend, Pansy Parkinson, suggests fixing your boyfriend’s flirting problem by giving him a taste of his own medicine.
+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in v) Unprotected, spanking, top!theo, bottom!reader, fem!reader, mean dom, innocent reader?, degradation, name-calling, weird authoritative thing going on with Theo (idk), one (1) use of ‘daddy,’ mild breeding kink, flirting while in relationship, jealousy, not fully proof-read (lmk if I missed any!)
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
nobody - Toby Mai
- - -
“I don’t want to hear another fucking excuse, Theo!” you screamed, rage flushing your cheeks. It took everything in you not to strangle him right now.
After the third time catching him flirting with another girl, you were ready to walk again. You weren’t even sure how many times you’d broken up with him, and how many times he’d broken up with you.
But you were about to add another time.
“Please, baby, you know it’s not what you think,” he begged, trying to grab your hands. “She’s just a friend—we were just chatting.”
“Usually, you can chat with people without your hands wrapped around them! You seemed pretty fucking cozy with her!”
“Baby, come on…,” he cooed, trying to press some kisses to your fingers. Angry, you yanked your hand out of his grasp and tore out of the room. You heard the door slam behind you and ignored the gasps of shock as you shoved through a group of students moving in a unit down the hallway.
You could hardly stand that stupid man right now. If you saw his face again within the next 48 hours, you would punch him.
As you flew down the steps of the Slytherin dormitories and toward the mostly empty common room, you nearly knocked a petite woman over.
The two of you crashed into each other and grunted on impact.
“Watch where you’re going—Merlin! What are you doing down here, honey? Are you crying?”
It was Pansy, one of your best friends in the entire world. Though the tears had been pooling in your eyes since you stormed out of Theo’s dorm, her question had pushed you over the edge. An angry sob left your lips.
“Oh no! What happened?” she cried, wrapping you up in her small frame. Shamelessly, you wept into the folds of her robes. She smelled comforting, like home and daisies. You could hardly hold back the tears that poured down your cheeks.
“It’s Theo!” you gasped. “I broke up with him again!”
“Oh…again?” You could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “What did he do this time?”
“He was rubbing up on that stupid Gryffindor girl from last time—laughing and going on! I hate him! I never want to see him again!”
“Why do you let this keep happening?” she asked nonchalantly, patting your head soothingly.
“Me?” you scoffed. “He’s flirting with other girls!”
“Okay, but…you also keep getting back together with him,” she shrugged.
You pulled away from her and glared a bit. You knew your decision-making on the love aspect of things had never been terrific, but you couldn’t help it. Theo was so good to you (besides the flirting thing).
You had tried to rationalize it repeatedly, telling yourself he was just a friendly guy, but he never acted that way to other guys—only girls. And you’d realized your rationalization was stupid. And that he was just flirting.
“Listen,” she started again. “I get it more than anyone else. Theo’s very hard to resist—I’m just saying he’s attractive!” She quickly rushed to defend her words because, after all, though you and Theo were “broken up” right now, you’d likely be back together before the end of the week. That’s how pathetic you were.
“If you don’t want to break up with him, how about you talk about it with him,” she suggested. “You need to sit him down, get stern with him, and tell him that he’s not going to talk to these girls the way he is anymore.”
“I’ve tried that already, Pans! I practically scream in his face every time he does this shit!”
There was a moment of silence while the both of you seemed to mull the issue over.
“Well, then, how about we try something else?” Pansy said, her eyes glinting mysteriously. Your shuddering breaths paused for a moment as you looked up at her. Whatever she was planning couldn’t be good just by the look on her face.
“Er, what do you mean?” you asked, a bit of anxiety creeping up the back of your neck.
“If you can’t get him to stop in your own way…maybe it’s time to give him a taste of his own medicine.” She smirked wildly, her eyebrows rising above her bangs.
“You don’t mean—? Oh, no! No, Pansy! I’m not doing that. I can’t do that when I’ve shouted at him for doing it for so long!”
“Exactly,” she said. “You’ve asked him to stop repeatedly, but he’s not interested in discussion. He needs a threat.”
Despite the growing burning in the pit of your stomach urging you to accept her suggestion, you still felt horrible even considering it. Theo had never cheated on you; you just felt as though he was too friendly with other girls. But maybe Pansy was right. Maybe he wouldn’t understand how frustrating it was until he experienced it himself. It wasn’t like you were going to actually cheat on him. Maybe you could just talk to one of his friends and pretend to flirt. Just a little bit.
With the end of your free period growing closer, you decided you would make Theo jealous at dinner. You just had to decide who you would select to help with your antics.
***
Your eyes surveyed the Great Hall, flashing back and forth across the immense tables. Familiar faces glanced back at you in passing, their eyes aimlessly wandering as well. You couldn’t help but smirk just a bit, knowing your plans. Poor Theo had no idea what he was in for.
After weighing your options for a few minutes, you finally decided that if you really wanted to get to Theo, you needed to hit close to home—too close to home.
Your eyes locked on a familiar face you had often stared at, even before you got together with Theo. Mattheo Riddle.
A dark, brooding masterpiece of a boy. Truly, someone you’d be fawning over if you weren’t currently with Theo. But, saying that sounded like a broken record, considering how many girls and boys begged Mattheo for a second glance. You watched him closely, observing for a few moments.
His dark was clenched just a bit as he ran long fingers through his raven curls. It was entirely too much for you to watch…just looking at him had a bit of heat pooling in your stomach.
You couldn’t lie. In the few moments you’d forgotten about Theo and planned to make him jealous, the rose-colored glasses had come off, and the dark green ones had slipped over your eyes. Your chest was pounding, and it wasn’t for Theo at this very moment.
A prick of courage coursed through your veins and with a deep breath, you were moving quickly toward your target.
Enzo, Theo, and Mattheo sat at the edge of the Slytherin table closest to the Great Hall’s entrance. They gathered around each other, snacking and laughing. Mattheo sat on the table with his feet settled on the bench, Enzo sat just next to his legs on the bench, and Theo sat opposite Enzo. Maybe it was cheesy, but even Mattheo’s small rebellion of sitting on the table rather than the bench was calling your name. To not sound like every Gryffindor currently drooling over Mattheo, he really did have the perfect bad-boy vibe. He was like a sexy Muggle film.
Mattheo’s legs were spread with his elbows settled on his thighs—a dominating posture. His robe was settled over the edge of the table, and his tie was loosened, exposing a sliver of bronze chest and a singular chain dangling beneath the collar of his shirt. Merlin, this was sinful.
Theo caught your eyes and smiled brightly. He waved you over. That particular movement snagged the attention of Mattheo and Enzo—both of whom found your eyes and smiled in return. Maybe you were over-confident, but you could have sworn Mattheo had looked you slowly up and down as you approached.
Granted, you had changed up your outfit before coming to dinner. It was simple, but you were sure it’d get the job done with how it framed your figure and dipped down your chest. Your hair was styled, and Pansy had granted you her talent for makeup. You felt gorgeous, so you assumed you looked it.
Your wand was slid into the small decorative belt that came with the dress, and your hands were tightened behind your back in a sort of mock innocence. You smiled brightly, eyes only on Mattheo.
Completely ignoring Theo, you walked straight up to the two boys sitting before him. The both of them were looking you up and down now.
“Hey, Matty,” you giggled, stopping just before him. Smirking, he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you between his legs, your hips bumping against his core.
“Hey, baby,” he whispered. “You’re awfully bubbly this afternoon.” His voice vibrated against your ear, sending a violent chill down your back. You tried not to let your facade fall, but damn, he was good. You couldn’t tell if he was just playing along, seriously into it, or reading your mind. Who knew? Legilimency ran in his family.
“Baby?” Theo asked gently. You could just barely hear his voice past Mattheo’s warm body. “Matty?”
His poor, confused voice made your heart sink a little bit. You immediately felt bad. But this was for his own good. He was feeling what you felt every time he pulled this shit with other girls.
“I can’t help it,” you smiled. “I was excited to see you.”
“What the fuck? What did he do to get all the attention?” Enzo joked, smiling crookedly.
“Aw, but I was excited to see you too, sweetheart,” you cooed, leaning over Mattheo’s thigh to gently touch a finger to his chin.
“I think someone’s had a bit to drink,” Theo said sternly. You finally made eye contact with him. He was fuming. You swallowed nervously but ignored his threatening gaze. You were doing this for a reason.
“I’m completely sober, Theo,” you said blankly.
“You wanna go somewhere, mama,” Mattheo whispered against your cheek, his lips brushing your jawline. His arms were still wrapped tightly around your waist, his grip domineering and his scent overwhelming. Why did you want to say yes? Were you a bad person? You weren’t sure. This was a bad idea.
You giggled to avoid answering his question. Enzo’s eyebrow quirked at you before giving a glance to Theo.
“Well, I didn’t want to have to be the one to say this. But, personally, I feel that we are all close enough now to discuss these things.” Enzo nodded his head. “Have we truly ever considered the possibility of a foursome?”
Theo choked on his drink, Mattheo pretended to gag, and you gasped sharply.
“I’m just saying…it’s a valid question.”
“Enzo, shut up. Now.” Theo gripped his cup tightly, his knuckles bleeding white across his skin.
“Mattheo, take your fucking hands off of my girlfriend,” he said, turning to the man above you. “We need to fucking talk.”
His eyes never left yours as he pulled himself away from the table and walked toward the door. He didn’t even need to look back to know that you were trailing behind him with a half-defeated look on your face.
You were a bit frightened of the consequences of your actions, but you were certain that once you explained yourself, he’d be more understanding. You hoped.
Once the two of you were just past the doors of the Great Hall, Theo grasped your hand roughly, and, after being forced through a sickeningly tight tube with a loud suctioning sound, you were standing in Theo’s dormitory. You were a bit dizzy from Disapparating after not doing it for so long, but no amount of churning in your stomach could distract from the raging boy storming straight for you.
“What the fuck was that?” Theo shouted, forcing himself up against you. The pressure of his chest pushed you back up against the footboard’s bedpost. As the wood dug into your back, a gasp left your lips.
The way he looked down at you, fuming and jaw clenching, had you flushed ever so slightly. You didn’t know what it was, but his anger wasn’t pleasuring you as you thought.
An hour ago, you’d have assumed that you would feel amazing because of revenge. Not … something else.
“I was just…,” you trailed off, his eyes drilling holes through yours. Your hands wrapped around the bedpost behind you as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. “I wanted to make you jealous.”
His jaw ticked.
“You what?”
“I’m sorry,” you flinched at the volume of his words. “You’re always so friendly and touchy with all of your girl friends—I just wanted to make you feel the same way.”
“Feel what way?” he demanded.
“Jealous,” you whispered, embarrassed. Your eyes tore away from him and cast to the floor. Despite the confidence you’d had a few hours ago, you felt like the smallest woman in the world now.
“Jealous? You’re so pathetic,” he whispered, his voice suddenly soft and chiding. The word made a heat pool between your legs. Your lips parted in a silent gasp. You refused to look at him.
“Instead of just working through our argument earlier like adults, you thought it’d be a good idea to throw yourself on my friends to get a reaction out of me?”
“Well, when you say it like that—”
“Was it Pansy?”
“What?”
He sighed and clenched his jaw in frustration. “Did Pansy Parkinson put this stupid idea into your head?”
You looked down. You were too embarrassed to answer, but he knew. He scoffed and placed a surprisingly gentle finger beneath your chin. He tilted you up to look at him. His eyes were softer now.
“I know that Pansy is a bad influence on you, but you still have to be taught a lesson,” he murmured, his eyes ranging from soft and caring to lustful and mean.
“But, I–”
“Shut up,” he interrupted, voice stern as steel. “Don’t talk anymore, okay?”
Your lips snapped shut and, falling into an embarrassingly well-rehearsed routine, you nodded and forced yourself to keep eye contact with him. However, he had no issue doing so. His crystalline eyes never left your face except for one agonizing second when he dragged them down the length of your body.
You then forgot all of your previous endeavors and realized that Theo was going to have his way with you. He wasn’t more understanding, nor had you gotten your revenge. But none of that mattered right now. The heat pooling between your thighs had blurred all possible thoughts that might pass across your mind. The only thing you could see, smell, taste, hear, feel was Theo, Theo, Theo. You sucked in a shaky breath.
His fingers slid around your upper arms, pulling you closer to him. The way he touched you was gentle and slow—a precursor for the aggression that was to come.
“Turn around and bend over,” he whispered. His voice was nothing less than demanding. You couldn’t help but comply as if everything depended on your ability to follow his directions. Which, at this moment, it felt that way.
You turned and laid your torso across the length of his bed, tucking your arms beneath your chest. Your cheek lay against the satin comforter as your breath exited your body in short, shuddering pants.
“You deserve this,” he murmured. “You know you do.” His hands—so gentle—pushed themselves beneath the hem of your skirt. Your eyes clenched shut as your corse pulsated in time with your rapid heartbeat.
The tips of his fingers caressed the curvature of your bare hips. With your intent to seduce, you’d figured you better dress the part as well as act it. For exactly that reason, you’d worn no bottoms beneath the tight dress. You could hear Theo inhale deeply as a single thumb slid over wettened, hot folds. You gasped sharply at the sensation.
“You wanted this,” he growled. Honestly, you hadn’t considered this as one of the outcomes of your little venture, but you wouldn’t deny what you currently wanted. With a whimper, you nodded your head and pushed your hips back against him.
A small grunt left his lips as your ass came into contact with his core, already engorged and pulsing, just as you were. You concealed a smirk. Perhaps it was the false persona you had put on this evening, but your confidence shone through the room like a lightbulb.
“Very well,” he sighed. “You’ll get exactly what you wanted, you pathetic slut. The only way you can get what you want is to show your ass in front of all my friends, huh? You couldn’t just fucking ask?” With each rhetorical question, he tore another piece of clothing from himself. His anger radiated off of him.
“My advice, love?” He rolled the fabric of your dress over your ass, allowing the cool air to bite at your core. “Next time…just fucking ask me to ruin this perfect cunt.” He pushed into you with a relieved groan.
The lack of any preparation had you biting into his comforter. Perhaps no foreplay was your punishment, but he felt too good for you to complain about it.
His hands gripped your hips like a vice as he pulled you back onto him at a sickening pace. He hit every spot inside of you with a bruising force, so hard that your face slid back and forth across his slick comforter. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep a hold on the surface. Theo’s rage-filled thrusts knocked you loose from any grip you gained on his sheets like it was nothing.
“If you ever pull something like that again, I swear to Merlin, I’ll beat the fuck out of any man who touches you,” he breathed through ragged thrusts. “I don’t care if it’s Mattheo or Enzo or some random guy—I’ll fucking kill him.”
His words pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Shamelessly, you moaned his name as if it were the last thing you’d ever say. He looked like a god behind you with his hair stuck to his forehead and his lips parted, his sweat circled the air, his name tasted perfect in your mouth, his moans were glorious, and he felt perfect inside you. Again, Theo was all you could see, smell, taste, hear, and feel.
“Yeah, baby? Does that feel good?” he whispered to you, taunting you endlessly. “Who fucks you like this, huh?”
“You,” you whined, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I couldn’t hear you, baby. It sounded like you said Enzo. Was that right?” he cruelly teased you. His hand came down hard across the brunt of your ass cheek. “That’s what you fucking get. Now, who fucks you like this?”
“You!” you tried again, desperate to feel your release.
“Mattheo? Oh, you’re really trying me today!” he shouted, bringing his hand down against you again. You yelped beneath the bite of his hand. You could practically already see the handprint forming across your skin.
Theo suddenly grabbed your hair roughly and pulled you against his body. Your back was pressed to his front, and his cock was hitting a devastating angle inside of you.
“Who fucks you like this, bitch?”
“You, Theo! Fuck, nobody makes me feel like this! Theo, Theo, Theo…,” your voice trailed off pathetically as he pounded into you with a force like no other. You wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.
One of his hands was wrapped around your stomach while the other remained tightly curled in your hair as he fucked up into you relentlessly. The coil in your stomach that only seemed to build when Theo handled you the way he did began to wind up in your stomach. Each thrust from the man behind you had it curling tighter and tighter, threatening to combust at any moment.
“Fuck, Theo, I’m gonna—”
“Yeah, baby? You’re gonna cum for me? Cum for me, baby…cum on my cock, sweetheart. Let me fill you up, darling. Please, baby, let me cum inside you. Make me a daddy, baby.”
And with those words, you were cumming against him harder than you ever had before. Honey spilled from you and coated his lower stomach and your thighs. The tension from your entire body locking up had Theo’s legs beginning to shake. Whispers of strained “fuck, fuck, fuck”s resonated throughout the room as Theo fucked himself through his orgasm. Just before you could protest at the overstimulation, he came into you, filling you up just as he had promised.
The feeling of every inch of his arousal overflowing from your core nearly made you needy all over again. You might've asked him for a round two if not for the overwhelming exhaustion that had just flooded your body.
Between the rapid pace he’d set and the abuse you’d taken from behind, the two of you were laid out. Both of you collapsed against his bed, chests rising and falling rapidly, beads of sweat dripping, eyes fluttering closed. You were sure you’d pass away if you attempted to move, so you laid completely still.
“How was that?” Theo asked, chuckling breathlessly. You refrained from rolling your eyes at his awkwardly-timed question.
“It was really good, you dummy,” you laughed, wiping a bit of sweat from your hairline.
“Good,” he whispered, rolling over to face you. “Because if you ever pull anything like that again, I’ll kill the man who touched you then I’ll fuck you in front of him.”
Merlin.
- - -
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thef1diary · 18 hours
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While It Lasts | L. Norris - 1
Summary: Lando expected nothing more than relaxation and fun for two weeks during his summer break. What he didn’t anticipate was meeting you, someone who felt like a perfect match in every way. As the days quickly passed, he found himself falling deeply for you, only to be confronted with the heart-wrenching reality that your time together was far more limited than he ever imagined.
Part 2 coming soon
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PLEASE READ: This story contains themes of loss, morality, fear, death, relationship strains, mental health struggles, including significant emotional impact related to the reader’s journey with a chronic illness and some scenes are set in hospitals. Reminder that this is simply a work of fiction, please don’t take it to heart.
a hugeee thank you to @chilling-seavey @thefourthln @faithshouseofchaos for proofreading this and constantly reassuring me that this isn’t shit 😭 I wouldn’t have posted this fic without your support 🫶🏻
pairing: lando x fem!reader
wc: 15.9k (because tumblr won't let me post the whole thing at once)
© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.
“C’mon, you’re gonna love it there,” Lando attempted to persuade his best friend. 
Max Fewtrell rolled his eyes, asking incredulously, “mate, are you seriously considering taking us to a small town over partying all day, everyday in the city?”
Lando shrugged, holding his finger up for a moment, asking him to wait while he scrolled through his phone to find the photos that Carlos sent him earlier. “It’s not just a small town, look at this.” He turned the phone around to show his best friend the photos of their potential home for the next two weeks. 
Max scoffed, still not believing that Lando was changing their pre-made plans at the last minute, “and why would Carlos just give you the keys to that villa looking thing?” 
“It’s his uncle’s vacation home, and it’ll be empty if we don’t go. You don’t want to leave this beauty empty, do you?” 
Max sighed, rolling his eyes at his best friend’s antics. As soon as he saw the photos, he was convinced to discard the previous plans and take the opportunity to live in that home, but of course he wouldn’t admit it straightaway. 
“Show me the photos again,” he simply muttered, earning a laugh from Lando as he swiped through the pictures. 
“There’s literally only one other house nearby, we won’t get that in the city now, would we?” Lando commented, watching the cogs turning in Max’s mind. 
Despite Max's initial reluctance, Lando could see the spark of curiosity flickering in his friend's eyes as he examined the photos. He knew he was close to winning Max over.
"So, what do you say, Max? Are you in?" Lando pressed, a hopeful tone in his voice.
Max hesitated for a moment, weighing his options before finally letting out a resigned sigh. "Alright, fine, you win. Let's give this small town adventure a shot," he conceded, unable to resist the allure of the stunning villa.
Lando grinned triumphantly. "Trust me, mate, you won't regret it," he assured him, clapping him on the back.
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see about that. When are we leaving?” He asked instead, still not wanting to get his hopes up in case he would be left disappointed. 
“Tomorrow.” 
“Tomorrow?” Max asked, eyes widening when Lando nodded. 
“Go pack your bags, mate,” Lando shoved him with full force once he noticed Max wasn’t leaving the room.
He laughed when Max finally regained his sense of motion and scrambled out the room, muttering to himself while packing everything he thought he needed for the next two weeks. Despite having a habit of travelling, it wasn’t any less stressful to pack, especially with a short notice.  
Lando sighed and leaned back into his chair, holding up his phone in front of him. He admired the picturesque view of the villa in the photos, containing his excitement because he would be able to see the same view in person soon enough. 
Perhaps this was what he needed, especially after the stress that continued to build up over the first half of the season. While he had a better start to the season than he was used to, it didn’t ease any pressure. He was constantly thinking about what he can do as a driver to improve the car while having to face the media at every race weekend and answering the same question over and over again. It was too much for him to handle. 
It was part of the reason why he was adamant on convincing Max to take a break in a place where they wouldn’t be seen as much as they usually do in Monaco. It would give him a chance of exploring a new town while also staying under the radar. 
When Carlos first suggested the idea, Lando instantly agreed. The promise of two weeks of relaxation and exploration ahead sounded like a dream to him. Lando couldn't wait to leave the pressures of the racing world behind and immerse himself in the beauty of the coastal town. Little did he know, amidst the winding streets and sun-kissed beaches, he would find more than just a temporary escape.
— 
As the taxi pulled up to the gates, the driver turned to them with a grin. "Here we are, gentlemen. Enjoy your stay," he announced, gesturing towards the grand entrance of the villa. 
Max and Lando exchanged glances, eager to explore the town. They thanked the driver before stepping out of the taxi, and their eyes widened in awe at the sight of their temporary abode. The grand villa stood just up ahead of them, its white walls gleaming in the golden light of the setting sun. The only barrier slightly obstructing their view were the large steel gates, shut to prevent any trespassers. 
"Whoa!" Max exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement.
Lando nodded in agreement, already reaching for his phone to capture the moment. "This place is insane," he remarked, snapping a quick selfie, giving a cheesy smile while holding up his thumb with the villa in the background.
Max chuckled, watching as Lando posed for the photo. "Gonna send that to Carlos?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face.
Lando nodded, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Yep, just to make him jealous," he replied, tapping away at his phone before sending the selfie to Carlos with a playful message: ‘You’re missing out!’
“Where’s he anyways?” Max asked but his gaze never left the sight in front of him. 
Lando’s thumbs moved across the screen as he typed out another message, possibly replying to Carlos who always texted back within minutes. 
Moments later, he turned the phone to show the screen to Max. Carlos had responded to Lando’s selfie with one of his own, showing off the view he was enjoying in the background. A pair of blue goggles covered his eyes and he held his thumb up in a playful manner as well. It was evident that he was standing on a yacht, surrounded by a form of nature in its entirety. 
“Guess he’s not exactly missing out. When is he not on a boat?” Max asked jokingly. 
Lando shrugged, “when he’s not cycling I guess.” 
When he turned the screen back towards him, he noticed another text from Carlos. ‘Don’t break anything’
He scoffed, shaking his head before pocketing his phone, ignoring his message. He was mature enough to know that, even if a few broken trophies claimed otherwise. 
The taxi drove off, leaving the men standing with their luggages in front of the gate. The breeze passed through Lando’s curls, causing him to turn around and squint his eyes to look up at the leaves on the trees swaying around. The setting sun pierced his eyes, but his gaze didn’t waver from it, a smile growing on his face since he already began liking the peaceful environment. 
“Mate,” Max’s voice broke the silence. When Lando looked at him expectantly, he gestured towards the gates. “Are we just here to look at it from outside or do you know the code to get in?”
Lando’s eyes widened, “oh yeah, Carlos told me the code, hold on.” He fumbled for his phone, quickly locating the message from Carlos with the access code. 
Before he could punch in the code, the sound of a car door slamming loudly took their attention away from the villa. 
Max and Lando simultaneously spotted another home further down the street across from theirs, the only one apart from the villa for miles. It stood in stark contrast, a quaint cottage nestled amidst a grove of cherry blossom trees. It looked smaller, but they knew not to be fooled, knowing the cottage only appeared smaller since it was further away. 
"Looks like we've got neighbors," Lando remarked, pointing towards the distant cottage. 
“So much for silence,” Max mumbled. 
As soon as Max’s words were spoken out loud, their attention shifted to the cause of the sound; you. 
Unlike Lando and Max, your day hadn’t been going well. Actually, you don’t believe that you’ve experienced a single good day in the past couple years; not since the day you received your reports. 
You remember that day vividly, the memories playing out in your mind like a horror movie. Despite many efforts from your close friends and family to cheer you up, you don’t believe that any smile you’ve given was genuine. Not a single one. 
You shut your eyes tightly, but it only intensified the memories, causing you to find a way to shift your attention. Your gaze was attracted to the sun that was moments away from slipping underneath the horizon. 
Contrasting to Lando’s thoughts from earlier, who smiled at the sunset because watching it cemented the fact that he was away from the chaos in cities and his world of racing, you thought of the guarantee that the sun will rise again tomorrow, one certainty you never had about yourself. 
Once you slammed the car door shut, a surge of frustration and anger coursed through you, making your brother, Isaac, who was also getting out of the car, wince in discomfort. It was his car, after all, and you knew you shouldn't take your frustrations out on one of his most prized possessions, but the weight of your own mortality pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket.
Another visit to the hospital had left you feeling drained and defeated, the latest round of test results delivering yet another blow to your already fragile health. The doctors' words echoed in your mind, their somber tones a stark reminder of the grim reality you faced.
You were angry – angry at the world for dealing you such a terrible fate, angry at your own body for betraying you, angry at the uncertainty that loomed over your future like a dark cloud. Would you live another day, another year, or was each moment you spent on this earth merely borrowed time?
Your hands trembled with a mixture of fear and frustration as you struggled to make sense of it all. You’ve been in this situation multiple times over the past couple years, wondering why the doctors always gave you a false sense of hope until the facts proved otherwise, but every time still felt like the first. Your illness was something you could never wrap your head around. The questions swirled in your mind, unanswered and unanswerable, leaving you feeling helpless and alone.
As you leaned against the car, your breath coming in ragged gasps, you felt a sense of despair wash over you. The world seemed cruel and indifferent, its vastness stretching out before you like an endless void.
Despite looking at the sun until it made your eyes water, or perhaps those were just your tears caused by your anger turning into sadness, your mind was still filled with all sorts of thoughts while your heart held various emotions. 
The one thing that did divert your mind was the sound of rackety steel gates opening further down the street. Those gates hadn’t been open in about a year, making it in desperate need of oil on the hinges. 
You remembered the family that visited very often once upon a time—the Sainz family—but those visits became less and less frequent as the years went by. 
However, once you heard laughter echoing down the street, you couldn’t place a name to the sound. You squinted your eyes to focus on the scene since you had forgotten your glasses inside your home. Your eyesight was one of the first things that started deteriorating, making it hard to believe that you once had perfect vision.
You could make out the shape of two men, seemingly young and nowhere near a part of the family that owned the villa. 
With a heavy heart, you turned away from the villa, knowing it was time to spend a quiet night in. The sun had long gone beneath the horizon, turning the orange skies into hues of blue as you made your way towards your small cottage.
Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of stale coffee from the early morning hours before you rushed to the hospital. The unmistakable scent of antiseptics mixed with coffee, a reminder that your home was slowly becoming similar to the emergency rooms. 
Your brother hovered nearby, his expression etched with concern as he watched you sink into a worn armchair. He had moved in once your health didn’t show any signs of improvement, taking on the older brother role even if he was a few years younger. 
"Are you okay?" Isaac asked, his voice filled with worry.
You nodded, forcing a weak smile as you tried to push aside the weight of your own fears. "I'm fine," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
But deep down, you knew the truth. You were anything but fine. The uncertainty of your future loomed over you like a dark cloud, threatening to consume you whole.
“Do you need anything before I make dinner?” He stood in front of you, fidgeting with his hands. 
The mention of dinner made you look up at him, shifting in the armchair as you prepared to stand up. His hands instantly shot out in case you stumbled over your feet. 
“Let me help you make dinner,” you spoke, placing your hand on his shoulder to stabilize yourself. 
He began shaking his head but your eyes pleaded with him. 
“Please, I’m not completely useless yet,” You added, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to deny you since it was a trick you used when you were both younger. 
He sighed, wanting to tell you that you weren’t useless at all, but it would open another can of worms. “Don’t push yourself too hard,” he settled instead. 
You firmly nodded, and threaded your arm around his as he led you to the kitchen. He knew that he shouldn’t have let you help, especially after an appointment, but he also knew that if he left you alone, your thoughts would drown you. 
All you needed was company, and he was more than willing to do anything to help you especially since he felt helpless otherwise. 
The rhythmic chopping of vegetables filled the air as you and Isaac worked together in the kitchen. He hovered nearby, his presence a silent reassurance that you were not alone in your struggle.
"Need any help with that?" he asked, gesturing towards the cutting board where you were slicing tomatoes with unsteady hands.
You shook your head, trying to hide the tremor in your voice. "I've got it, thanks."
But he could see through your facade, his eyes filled with concern as he watched you work. "Are you sure? You seem a bit off today." 
He had made it his responsibility to take you to your appointments, and he noticed that your mood deflated even more than the last visit.
You forced a smile, hoping to alleviate his worries. "I'm fine, just tired from the hospital visit."
He didn't look convinced, but he didn't press further. Instead, he moved closer, offering a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Well, let me know if you need anything. I'm here for you, okay?"
You nodded, grateful for his support. "Thanks, I appreciate it."
As you continued to cook together, the tension in the air eased, replaced by the familiar rhythm of sibling banter and shared laughter. 
“Oh, did you see our new neighbours?” You asked once you sat down to eat. 
Your brother nodded, a muffled sound leaving his mouth since he was in the midst of chewing. 
Your face twisted in disgust, “ew, eat your food, don’t show it.” He playfully smacked your arm before swallowing and you had to hide the wince that almost overtook your expressions. You rubbed your arm once he was distracted, already knowing that it’ll bruise even if the smack was light. 
“As I was saying,” he glared at you for a brief moment before continuing, “I noticed them coming in.” 
“How long do you think they’re gonna stay?” 
He added, making you shrug, “no idea, a couple weeks?” 
Meanwhile, down the street, Max and Lando were immediately struck by the grandeur inside the villa. They had already explored the surroundings outside while the sun was setting, and were greeted by a scene of serene beauty and tranquility. 
The sprawling grounds stretched out before them, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. Lush greenery enveloped the landscape, with meticulously landscaped gardens and manicured lawns spreading out in all directions.
Tall palm trees swayed gently in the breeze, their fronds rustling softly as if whispering secrets to the wind. Vibrant bursts of color from exotic flowers and fragrant blossoms added splashes of brightness to the landscape, while the sweet scent of blooming jasmine and lavender hung in the air.
A cobblestone pathway wound its way through the gardens, meandering past secluded alcoves and hidden nooks waiting to be explored. Stone benches and wrought iron chairs provided inviting spots to sit and enjoy the beauty of nature, while the soothing sound of a trickling fountain added a sense of serenity to the atmosphere.
In the distance, the shimmering surface of a swimming pool caught the last rays of sunlight, beckoning with promises of cool refreshment on a warm summer's day. Beyond the pool, a charming gazebo nestled amidst a grove of trees offered a secluded retreat, its elegant structure inviting relaxation and contemplation.
Inside the villa, Max and Lando found themselves immersed in a world of luxury and refinement. Marble floors gleamed underfoot, their polished surfaces reflecting the soft glow of crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. The air was infused with the scent of subtle hints of vanilla and sandalwood, creating an atmosphere of opulence.
Plush furnishings adorned with rich fabrics and intricate patterns beckoned invitingly, promising comfort and relaxation. Oversized sofas and armchairs offered sumptuous seating, their cushions plump and inviting, while ornate coffee tables and sideboards showcased exquisite craftsmanship and timeless elegance.
Large windows framed breathtaking views of the surrounding countryside, their sheer curtains billowing gently in the breeze. Soft, ambient lighting cast warm pools of light in every corner, creating a sense of coziness and intimacy that enveloped the space.
Throughout the villa, works of art adorned the walls, adding a touch of sophistication and culture to the elegant surroundings. Paintings and sculptures, each one a masterpiece in its own right, spoke of a life of privilege and refinement, while delicate vases filled with fresh flowers added a touch of natural beauty to the lavish interiors.
In every room, from the grand foyer to the luxurious bedrooms and bathrooms, attention to detail was evident at every turn. From the intricate carvings on the furniture to the delicate lace trim on the curtains, no expense had been spared in creating a sanctuary of unparalleled beauty and comfort.
As Max and Lando explored the villa, they couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and awe at the sheer magnificence of their surroundings. For a moment, they forgot about the outside world, lost in the splendor of their temporary home and the promise of adventure that lay ahead.
While Max’s gaze wandered around in amazement, Lando nudged him with a mischievous smile of his own. “Told ya it’ll be worth it.” 
He rolled his eyes but still agreed, “yeah I guess it is.” 
Then, Max bursted into a sprint, running up the stairs while yelling loudly, “I get first pick!” 
Lando shook his head, disagreeing immediately while chasing behind him. After all, they were two men who were kids at heart that were given a huge home all for themselves. 
The next morning dawned bright and clear, filling the villa with a warm golden light that spilled through the windows and danced across the marble floors. 
Lando had been awake for the past couple hours, his internal clock still set to his racing routine. He had woken up to the melody of birds chirping away and light filtering through the sheer curtains, basking for a moment in the change of scenery. 
He had gone for a morning run, relishing the fresh air and serene beauty of the surroundings. On the way back, he picked up some pastries from a local bakery, their aroma enticing and warm. 
Returning to the villa, Lando hummed a tune as he walked towards the kitchen. He paused for a moment, his eyes widening at the amount of natural light coming in through the big windows. The morning sun added a fresh, beautiful touch to the villa, reflecting off the furniture and transforming the space. 
As he placed the pastries on the kitchen counter, Max emerged from his room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, taking in the sight of the sun-drenched villa. “Morning, mate,” he greeted, his voice still laced with traces of sleep. 
“Morning, Max,” Lando replied, holding back a chuckle at his messy morning hair. 
He was lured by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, mingling with the scent of freshly baked pastries. 
“Mm, smells amazing but where did these come from?” He asked before popping a pastry in his mouth. His eyes closed as it melted in his mouth, savouring the taste for a moment. 
Lando grinned, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Glad you like them, I picked them up on my morning run,” he admitted. 
Max raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You went for a run?” he asked, his tone filled with amusement. 
Lando nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “Yeah, figured I’d explore the area a bit and see what’s around,” he explained. 
The first thing Lando did when he laid in bed last night was bring out his phone to search for things to do in this small town. Unfortunately, the internet wasn’t much help, so he decided to take a look around by himself, and perhaps even ask a few locals for advice. 
Then he ducked his head and rubbed his palm on the nape of his neck, “and Jon told me to keep training while we’re here.” 
Max chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well, thanks for bringing back breakfast,” he added, reaching for another pastry. 
Lando picked up one for himself. “Yeah, no problem, but don’t expect it everyday,” he said with a cheeky smile. Max rolled his eyes, ignoring his comment as he sipped on his coffee. 
“What are you planning on doing today?” Max asked after a moment of silence. 
“I saw this market on my run earlier, and was thinking of going to go check it out,” he hummed, thinking back to the beautiful scenery during his short cardio session. 
Max laughed, “look at you, living the small town life already.” 
Lando reached over to smack the pastry out of Max’s hand that he was about to eat. “Hey!” He exclaimed, looking at the fallen treat. 
There was a beat of silence, before Max and Lando made eye contact and then they bursted out into giggles. Amidst their laughter, Max reached down to pick up the fallen pastry, dusting it off before stuffing it in his mouth. 
“Five-second rule, mate,” he muffled. 
“What are you gonna do?” Lando asked, ignoring his best friend’s antics.
He simply shrugged, “I don’t know, mate.” 
“Wanna join me?” Lando suggested, earning a nod from Max, a teasing smile growing on his face. 
“I thought you’d never ask.” 
Lando rolled his eyes, “you don’t have to wait for me to ask.” 
With their breakfast antics over, Lando and Max quickly finished their coffee before deciding to venture out into the town. As they stepped outside, the warm rays of the sun enveloped them, casting a golden glow over the quaint streets. 
The scorching sun bore down upon them, turning the cobblestones into radiant paths of heat. Lando and Max, feeling the intensity of the sun’s rays, walked with beads of sweat forming on their brows. 
Max shielded his eyes from the sun with a hand since he had misplaced his sunglasses. 
Once they were a couple minutes into the walk, they realized that the market they planned to visit was further away than they initially thought. The narrow streets, lined with colourful houses and blooming flowers, stretched out before them, inviting them on a leisurely stroll. 
“Why are we walking?” Max asked, still holding his hand up for a shade. 
Lando raised his own sunglasses to the top of his head in disbelief, “why don’t you have your sunglasses?” 
“Forgot ‘em at the villa,” he grumbled, which only made Lando laugh louder. 
“Check your pockets, mate.” 
Max’s eyes widened when he did in fact find his sunglasses in his pocket. He slid them onto his face with a sigh of relief, finally able to open his eyes properly. 
Just as they began to feel the discomfort of the sweltering weather, a gentle breeze swept in from the nearby seaside, bringing with it a cool and invigorating relief. The breeze, infused with the scent of salt, tousled their hair and kissed their skin, providing a much needed respite from the heat. 
After a few more minutes of walking, Max and Lando finally stumbled upon the market. It was nestled in a quaint square lined with vibrant stalls, each overflowing with a colourful array of fruits, vegetables, flowers, and artisanal crafts. 
They wove their way through the crowded square, taking in the sights and the sounds of the market. The air was alive with the chatter of vendors and the laughter of shoppers, creating a lively atmosphere. The breeze was stronger as the market was closer to the seaside, blowing close to harsh wind in their faces, but it was welcomed due to the strong sun. 
As they browsed the stalls, Max sampled a couple local delicacies first and Lando waited for his approval before trying them as well. 
“Does it have fish?” Lando asked, hesitant in taking the sample from the vendor. 
The vendor chuckled, “no, sir, it’s a dessert filled with cream, topped with hardened sugar.” 
Lando’s mouth dropped open in understanding before taking the sample from him. 
Max couldn’t resist picking up a few souvenirs to take home, like a proper tourist, while Lando struck up conversations with other locals, wanting to find out some details about the town. 
As he held a couple bags of items he bought to remember this trip, Max’s eyes lit up when he spotted a bakery on the other side of the market. 
“Hey, I’m going to check out the bakery over there,” Max pointed. “Grab a couple more treats,” he added. 
Lando nodded, his attention drawn to a colourful display of ripe fruits nearby. “Sounds good, I’ll catch up with you in a bit.” 
The two friends parted ways, Max was enticed by the scent of warm pastries waiting for him while Lando’s mouth watered at the sight of juicy fruits. His trainer had wanted him to stay healthy throughout the break anyways, and this was the perfect opportunity. 
He greeted the vendor and began eyeing the various fruits; plump oranges, crisp apples, perfectly ripe bananas, and more. 
“Good morning! What can I get for you today?” The vendor asked, and Lando thought for a moment before replying. 
“I’ll take some of those oranges, grapes, and oh some apples too, please.” 
The vendor nodded and began putting the fruits into the paper bags, but paused once he bagged both the grapes and oranges. “Forget these apples, get these ones instead,” they said while showcasing another tray of apples that looked very similar. 
“It’s our premium organic apples, the best ones of the bunch.” 
Lando hesitated for a moment, but the vendor’s persuasive tone convinced him that it was a steal. 
To persuade Lando even further, the vendor added, “these ones are special, organic, freshly picked this morning. I’ll give you a good deal, just five dollars for one.” 
Lando blinked in surprise at the price, wondering if a single apple was genuinely five dollars, but then again he never had to do any grocery shopping on his own. Jon would usually bring it for him, or do all the work if they went together. 
Then he reasoned that it must be a rare variety or exceptionally fresh. “Alright, sounds good, give me a couple.” 
Lando happily handed over the money, and thanked the vendor once they passed over the bags. He paused for a moment once he returned to the main street, inhaling the breeze, feeling the tension of his usual everyday life slowly melt away. 
He spotted Max, noticing that he held even more bags than when he previously saw him. As Lando and Max regrouped near the bakery, the latter raved about the variety of treats he bought. “Mate! I think I bought everything.” 
They scanned the bustling market once more, wondering if they should take another look or return to the villa. Max’s gaze wandered towards the seaside, where tranquil waves lapped against the shore. 
“Hey, isn’t that our neighbour from the villa? The one who lives in the cottage?” Max asked, gaining Lando’s attention. 
He followed Max’s gaze and spotted you sitting alone on a bench gazing out at the sparkling sea. Recognition dawned on Lando’s face as he remembered you from yesterday. “Yeah, it is, should I go say hi?” 
Max considered it for a moment, glancing back at the path towards the villa before turning to Lando with a shrug. “Sure, why not? I’ll head back to the villa; catch up later yeah?” 
Lando nodded, grateful for Max’s understanding. “Are you sure you’ll be fine with carrying all that?” He asked jokingly, gesturing at the bags he held. 
“Shut up,” he muttered, nudging him with his shoulder. 
Lando walked off with a chuckle, “see ya.” 
His laughter died down as he approached you, noticing that your gaze was still fixed on the horizon as if you were searching for answers in the endless expanse of the sea. Perhaps you were, and he felt slightly guilty for approaching you, especially since you were far away from the rest of the crowd. 
However, before he could abort the idea, you glanced to the side, looking at him with confusion replacing your previous expressions. 
"Mind if I join you?" he asked, flashing a friendly smile as he stood there, pointing to the empty space next to you. 
Your eyes clouded with a mixture of weariness and suspicion. "Suit yourself," you replied, your tone curt.
Undeterred by your guarded demeanor, Lando took a seat beside you, his curiosity piqued by the enigmatic stranger before him. "Beautiful day, isn't it?" he ventured, attempting to break the ice.
You scoffed, a bitter edge creeping into your voice. "I suppose," you muttered, your gaze returning to the horizon.
Sensing the walls you had erected around yourself, Lando decided to tread carefully, unwilling to push too hard too soon. He placed the bag of fruits on the grass before extending his hand in greeting. "I'm Lando," he introduced himself. 
You hesitated for a moment before reluctantly accepting his handshake and introduced yourself, offering a tentative smile that failed to reach your eyes.
He repeated your name, wanting to become familiar with the way the vowels wrapped around his lips because he had a feeling that he would be saying your name a lot more often now. 
Despite the initial awkwardness, Lando found himself drawn to you, intrigued by the mystery that shrouded your presence. He wondered why you were sitting here alone when there was a crowded market not too far away from here, but he didn’t have the strength to ask just yet. 
He leaned against the bench, sighing as he watched the horizon just like you were. However, it became difficult to choose if the seaside view was prettier or you. He didn’t want you to think he was a creep, so he stole some glances at you every couple of moments without you knowing. 
As you sat in companionable silence, the gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore provided a soothing backdrop, preventing the situation from feeling awkward. 
“How long have you lived in this town?” Lando asked, but the moment he did, he thought that it was too intrusive. 
He waited, one beat, two beats, before you responded. “I’ve lived here my whole life,” you admitted. 
A small smile threatened to grace your lips as you thought of the happier memories you’ve spent here, the ones before the news that turned you into a shell of the person you were once. 
“This town has always been home to me,” you added. 
Lando’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Really? That’s amazing,” he exclaimed, genuine interest sparkling in his eyes. But then his brows furrowed, “have you never felt like leaving this place behind? Move somewhere in the city?” 
You pressed your lips together in a tight smile, thinking of a response that wasn’t along the lines of I did want to leave. I had plans and dreams of studying abroad, living in the city, but fate had a different plan. Instead, you shrugged, “no, I’ve never thought about it before. I guess I like the community here, you know, everyone knows everyone.” 
He chuckled, “that can’t be a good thing all the time though.” 
You shook your head, “not always, news travels around pretty fast.” Feeling a tad bit intrigued by him, you asked, “so what made you come here?” 
“The villa. It’s my friend’s family’s villa and he lent it out for a couple weeks,” he explained, causing you to widen your eyes. “Oh, so you’re my neighbour?” 
He ducked his head and smiled sheepishly, “yeah, that’s, um, kind of why I approached you in the first place.” 
As the conversation ebbed between you and Lando, a comfortable silence settled over the two of you, punctuated only by the rhythmic sounds of waves crashing against the shore. 
After a while, Lando cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Hey, I was wondering… since you’re a local and all, would you mind showing me and a friend around town?” he asked, a hopeful smile on his face. 
When you didn’t answer right away, he continued explaining. “We’ve never been here before, and since we’re here for two weeks, I want to know every hidden gem and secret spot here, something less touristy.” 
You could tell that he was beginning to become nervous, especially based on your expression which you assumed wasn’t kind. You forced a smile on your face, instinctively grazing his knee with your palm that wouldn’t stop bouncing up and down. 
“Yeah, I’ll show you guys around,” you responded, and the warmth of your tone sent a ripple of excitement through Lando. 
His smile widened, “thank you! I went by the market today but I feel like I should have someone giving me a little bit more direction on what to do here.” 
“Oh you went to the market? Buy anything?” You asked, wanting to keep the conversation flowing as well, especially since you liked hearing him speak. 
Lando gestured to the paper bag resting on the floor, “I got a couple fruits. Max, my friend, stocked up on the pastries from the bakery there. He already fell in love with them.” 
You didn’t stop the smile growing on your face. “I totally get that, anything from that bakery is to die for.” 
But then you glanced at the bag he held, and watching your gaze, he elaborated. “I got these organic apples, the vendor said they were giving me a pretty good deal, five dollars each.” 
Your jaw dropped, “five dollars each? You totally got scammed.”
Lando’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Scammed? What do you mean?” he asked, his curiosity piqued. 
“No one sells a single apple for $5, Lando, no matter how ‘organic’ they tell you it is,” you explain, but based on his expression, he still didn’t understand why. 
Although his eyes did widen as he examined the contents. Now that he thought about it, the prices on the fruit seemed exorbitant, far beyond what he thought Jon paid. 
“Everyone in this town bargains, especially in the market,” you added, and he frowned. 
“I don’t need to bargain.” 
You shook your head. “I’m sure you’re rich enough, but the point is that every vendor marks up the price because they know the locals bargain. The public is happy because they bargained, and the vendor is satisfied because the products still sell at a good price.” 
He nodded in understanding, “oh, that’s weird, usually you just pay the price on the tag.” 
“Well that’s the thing, there aren’t any tags, the vendors just set the prices, and they also mark it up if they know that you’re a tourist.” 
His jaw dropped in surprise, “what? That’s not fair.” 
“And that is why you need to know your way around here,” you added, earning a smile from him. 
“That’s why you’re my tour guide.” 
You looked at the horizon as his gaze felt too intense in that moment. He still looked at you, a soft smile on his face mixed with lingering curiosity about you and this town that seemed to draw him in instantly. 
Just then, a familiar voice called out from behind you. “Hey, I’m all done, let’s go back home now?” 
You turned to see Isaac standing with his hands full of produce he bought for dinner, but a curious expression on his face as he noticed Lando next to you. 
“Um, yeah, did you get everything?” You ask as you stand up, and your brother immediately holds out his arm so you can loop your own with his. 
“Yes ma’am, I bought everything on the list,” he said playfully. 
Before he could lead you away, you patted his arm and glanced at Lando, “oh, this is Lando, our neighbour, at the villa.” 
Your brother’s eyes flickered with recognition as he glanced at Lando. “Ah, yes, nice to meet you, I’m Isaac.” 
The corner of Lando’s lip turned up briefly, before he nodded, “same here.” 
The afternoon sun was shining, yet it was cooler than earlier, making the journey back towards your street easier. The market had an influx of visitors since many preferred to stay at home when the morning heat was ablaze. 
Since the three of you were headed in the same direction, you decided to walk together. You walked side by side with your brother, your arm still looped with his. Lando had taken the liberty to carry a couple bags that Isaac held. 
Lando walked a couple steps ahead, as if he was the local and you were the tourist. You didn’t mind it though, because his gaze confused you. Every time he looked at you, he was either close to figuring out your secrets or he was just blissfully unaware.  
He was still a stranger, and you had no plans on telling him anything more than you had to. 
As you walked, the lively chatter of the market gradually faded into the background, replaced by the soothing sounds of the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. 
Despite the tranquility of the moment, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of your mind. Lando’s presence just a couple steps in front of you felt both comforting and disconcerting, his easy demeanour belaying the mystery that seemed to arise at times. 
You thought back to your conversation at the bench, not finding anything concerning about the questions he asked or the responses to yours, but you couldn’t help but still feel on edge. Perhaps you wanted to trust him, but your mind didn’t allow it as easily as your heart willed you to. 
Isaac couldn’t resist teasing you, nudging your side with his elbow and tilting his head towards Lando. 
“So what’s the deal with you and the new neighbour, huh?” he whispered, keeping his voice down to prevent Lando from hearing him. 
You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his arm. “Oh, please. There’s no deal, we just met today.” 
Isaac raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Uh-huh, sure. But I think you’ll be seeing him a lot more often now, don’t you think so?” 
You nodded, “well he does live nearby, and he wants me to be a tour guide for him and his friend, Max, for the time they’re here.” 
He chuckled, his grin widening. “That’s very convenient. But I think you’ve got an admirer.” 
You scoffed, trying to brush off his teasing. “Don’t be ridiculous, he’s just being friendly.” 
“Keep telling yourself that, we’ll see what happens in the next couple of days,” he stated as he draped an arm around your shoulder which only lasted a couple seconds before you pushed him away. 
Since he wasn’t satisfied with just teasing you, he joined Lando’s side, instantly striking up a conversation. “So, Lando, enjoying your stay in our little town so far?” 
He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Definitely, it’s been a refreshing change of scenery.” 
They continued on, speaking as if they knew each other for years.
As you neared the cottage, Lando handed Isaac the paper bags and bid you farewell. “Thanks for the company today, I’ll see you guys around.” 
With a nod and a wave, you and Isaac made your way inside, leaving the events of the day behind you as you retreated into the sanctuary of your shared abode. 
As the late morning sun filtered through the curtains, you stirred from your sleep, greeted by the familiar routine that marks the start of another day. The soft chirping of birds and faint chatter outside your window served as your alarm, nudging you gently into wakefulness.
You slid out of bed and padded over to the window, drawing back the curtains to reveal the tranquil scene outside. The small seaside town unfolded before you, bathed in the soft glow of morning light. It was a picturesque sight, one that you've grown accustomed to over the years.
With a sigh, you turned away from the window and began your morning routine. It's a well-worn pattern by now – first, you head to the bathroom to wash up and brush your teeth, the sound of running water a familiar soundtrack to your mornings.
Next comes the more clinical aspect of your routine. You reached for the small plastic organizer on the bathroom counter, filled with an assortment of medications neatly arranged in separate compartments. Your brother's voice echoed in your mind as you recalled his daily reminder to take your pills – a routine that has become as routine as brushing your teeth.
You dutifully pop each pill into your mouth, washing them down with a gulp of water. It's a mundane task, but one that is essential to your well-being. You've grown accustomed to the bitter taste of the medication, the lingering reminder of your illness that you can't escape.
Once the pills are swallowed, you move on to the next item on your checklist. Your brother's voice drifts in from the hallway, asking if you've taken your medication yet. You respond with a simple "yes," the words slipping easily from your lips.
As you go about your morning routine, there's a sense of detachment that settles over you – a feeling of going through the motions without really being present. It's a coping mechanism, a way to distance yourself from the reality of your illness and the uncertainty that comes with it.
But despite the clinical nature of your routine, there's a quiet determination that drives you forward. Each pill swallowed, each task completed is a small victory in the ongoing battle against your illness, however it’s a battle that you’re not sure if you’ll win or not. 
You finish your morning routine and join Isaac in the kitchen, where he’s already preparing breakfast. He glances up at you as you enter, a warm smile on his face. 
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he greets you, handing you a mug of steaming coffee, your one and only cup a day according to doctor’s orders. 
Still lost in your thoughts, you burn your tongue as you take the first sip. Isaac eyes you carefully, a hint of concern in his gaze as you grab an ice cube and stick it in your mouth. 
“You doing okay?” he asks, his voice soft. 
You force a smile, hoping to reassure him. Pushing the ice cube towards your cheek, you speak, “yeah, just another day.” 
“Just another day? Don’t you have to show Lando and Max around?” He asks, but quickly shifts his gaze to the egg on the pan. 
You nod, grateful for the distraction from your thoughts. "Yeah, I do. I almost forgot," you reply, mentally shaking off the lingering unease that had gripped you earlier.
Isaac watches you closely, his concern evident in his furrowed brow. "Are you sure you're up for it?" he asks, his tone gentle.
You give him a reassuring smile, trying to push aside the gnawing doubts that linger at the back of your mind. 
"I'll be fine," you insist, though the words sound hollow even to your own ears. “I’m thinking of showing them around some of the touristy spots first to get it out of the way, and then some historical sites if they’re up for it,” you explain, making a mental checklist. 
He nods, accepting your answer for now. "Just take it easy, okay? And call me if you need anything," he says, reaching out to squeeze your hand.
You squeeze his hand back, grateful for his unwavering support. "Thanks, Isaac," you murmur, feeling a sense of warmth wash over you in his presence.
Together, you and Isaac finish your breakfast in companionable silence, the weight of the upcoming day lingering in the air. But there was a hint of excitement brewing in your mind once you were reminded of your neighbours, and perhaps it’ll distract you from your usual thoughts. 
Meanwhile, Lando dashed around his room, wearing only a pair of pants, his movements quick and purposeful as he rummaged through his suitcase, searching for the perfect shirt for the day ahead. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table, his brow furrowing in frustration as he realized how quickly time was slipping away.
"Max, are you almost ready?" he called out, his voice tinged with urgency.
From the living room, Max's relaxed voice drifted back. "Yeah, just taking my time. No rush, right?"
Lando rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as he continued his frantic search for the right outfit. He held up a full sleeved sweatshirt against himself, judging the shirt in the mirror.
“No, too hot,” he muttered to himself and tossed the garment aside. He continued shuffling through the suitcase, not having the time to unpack completely. 
Then he held up a simpler t-shirt, considering it for a moment before shaking his head. “Too casual,” he mumbled, discarding it onto the growing pile of rejected clothes. 
With a sense of growing frustration, Lando finally spotted a light, airy button-down shirt that seemed suitable for the warm weather. He quickly slipped it on, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as the fabric settled comfortably against his skin. 
Satisfied with his choice, Lando turns his attention to his hair, running his fingers through his unruly curls in an attempt to tame them into some semblance of order. After a few futile attempts, he huffed and searched around for his beloved bucket hat, placing it on his head to prevent putting more effort into his hair. 
Glancing at himself in the mirror, he straightened his shirt and adjusted his hat. As a final touch, Lando grabbed his sunglasses and hastily shoved them in his pocket, then grabbed his phone and wallet before heading out of the room. 
As he entered the living room, Lando found Max lounging on the couch, seemingly unperturbed by the passing time. "C'mon, mate, we're gonna be late because of you," Lando chided, his tone laced with exasperation.
Max shrugged nonchalantly, a lazy grin playing across his lips. "She didn't give you a time."
Lando resisted the urge to roll his eyes, his frustration mounting with each passing second. "I know, but she's taking time out of her day to show us around. We need to be respectful."
Max chuckled, propping himself up on one elbow as he regarded Lando with amusement. "You asked her to show us around, you didn't need to."
Lando sighed, his patience wearing thin. "She's a local, Max. It's important to make a good impression."
Max's grin widened, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Is that all what she is?"
Soon enough, Max decided to spare his best friend from further frustration and went upstairs to get dressed. 
While he did so, Lando thought about Max’s question, which he left unanswered. You were a mere stranger, yet after meeting you yesterday, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. 
Lando instantly sat up after a moment, looking around the room and spotting his digital camera sitting on the table nearby. He picked it up by the straps of the bag, wanting to take as many photos of the events of today as he could. 
The sound of footsteps echoed from upstairs, and soon Max reappeared, clad in a fresh set of clothes. He flashed a grin before taking his phone back from Lando. 
“Finally ready?” Lando teased, looking up at him. 
Max rolled his eyes, “yes.” He ran a hand through his tousled hair before asking, “what’s the plan for today?” 
Lando shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “that’s for our lovely tour guide to decide.” 
With a nod of agreement, Lando walked beside Max as they left the villa together. 
Their footsteps crunched echoed softly against the cobblestone path. The afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the landscape, illuminating the streets as it was at the highest peak. As they made their way down the path, they spotted you stepping out of the cottage, a faint smile on your face as you headed towards them. 
“Hey, look who’s here,” Max remarked, nudging Lando with his elbow. 
Lando grinned in return, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. “Hi,” he muttered as you stood in front of him. 
You were quickly introduced to Max, and exchanged greetings before leading the way down the street. 
“So, where are we off to today?” Max asked, his gaze looking around before returning back to you. 
“Well, I thought we could start with a stroll through the town square,” you suggested, gesturing towards the many narrow streets. “Then, I’ll show you around a couple historic spots?” You asked, pausing and looking at them for a reaction. 
Lando nodded in agreement, “sounds like a plan, lead the way, tour guide.” 
With a playful grin, you set off towards the heart of the town, Lando and Max falling into step beside you. 
As you lead Lando and Max through the winding streets of the town, each building you pass enveloped you in a sense of nostalgia. Each cobblestone path seemed to hold a story, whispered through the intricate architecture and vibrant colours of houses. 
“You see that old bookstore over there?” you pointed, a smile playing on your lips. “It’s been here for generations, and they have the most fascinating collection of rare books.” 
Lando’s eyes sparkled with intrigue as he glanced at the bookstore. “I’ll have to check it out then,” he stated. 
“Avid reader?” You asked, walking side by side. 
He shook his head, “not at all, but there has to be something fascinating if you like it.” 
You chuckled at his response, focusing your gaze ahead as you felt your cheeks redden. “Well, I worked there as a teen, and from my experience, it’s always worth exploring.” 
Lando nodded in agreement, his gaze lingering on the bookstore as you passed by it. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 
Max fell a couple of steps behind as he watched the interaction between you and Lando. Then he quickly caught up to his best friend, nudging him gently to gain his attention. “You know I’m here too, right?” 
Lando rolled his eyes, “yeah, yeah, I know.” 
As you led the way through the bustling crowd, Lando and Max trailed behind you, keeping close to ensure they didn’t lose sight of you amidst the throng of people. Along the winding streets, you were greeted by familiar faces, the locals calling out your name and exchanging warm greetings as you passed by. 
Lando eagerly captured every picturesque moment with his camera. Occasionally, he would lower the camera to observe you as you engaged in conversations with strangers, raising the camera to his eye once more to capture candid moments of your interactions with them.
Amidst the lively atmosphere, you pointed out hidden gems nestled in the nooks and crannies of the town. From cozy art galleries adorned with vibrant paintings to antique shops filled with treasures of bygone eras, each discovery added to the tapestry of the town’s charm. 
With each step, you shared tidbits of local history and anecdotes, painting a vivid picture of life in the town. Lando and Max listened attentively, their eyes alight with curiosity as they soaked in the sights and sounds of the vibrant community. 
Walking down the narrow streets, you pointed out the historic clock tower and the old, abandoned church beside it. You mentioned that it was the oldest structure in town and pushed open the wooden doors.
Max looked around, intrigued. The interior had a musty scent mixed with faint incense, and sunlight streamed through stained glass, casting colorful patterns. He admired the architecture, understanding why it was cherished.
As you explored, you shared the tower’s history, noting its construction by skilled craftsmen from distant towns. The vaulted ceilings and stone pillars added to the sense of reverence. You paused, letting Max and Lando roam.
They were captivated by the church’s history and beauty, momentarily forgetting the outside world. Emerging into the sunlight, they exchanged awed glances, touched by the experience. It was a moment they would remember.
“So, what’s next on the agenda?” Lando asked, glancing down at his camera and scrolling through the photos before looking up at you. 
You grinned, “well there’s a garden not too far from here. It’s the perfect place to unwind and enjoy the beauty of nature.” 
Max’s eyes lit up with excitement, “yes, please, that sounds amazing.” 
With a laugh, you led them along winding pathways lined with vibrant blooms leading towards the tranquil garden. 
Max let out a contented sigh, “this place is amazing.” 
You smiled, gesturing towards a cluster of vibrant flowers. “There’s something magical about it.” 
Lando nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning the picturesque surroundings. “Definitely worth the visit,” he remarked, raising his camera to capture the beauty around him. 
The tranquility of the garden seemed to envelop you, wrapping you in a sense of peace and serenity. Tall trees cast dappled shadows across the well-tended lawns, providing relief from the midday sun. The air was alive with the melodious chirping of birds and the occasional buzz of bees flitting from blossom to blossom. 
The garden was a lush oasis, meticulously landscaped with winding pathways that meandered among vibrant flower beds and verdant shrubbery. 
Max glanced at the pond, where a family of ducks paddled lazily. "Hey, check out those ducks," he exclaimed, pointing towards the water. "They look so peaceful."
You chuckled, nodding towards a nearby bench. "Let's take a seat and enjoy the view," you suggested.
As you sat on the stone bench, a sense of calm washed over you, the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds creating a soothing melody. Max and Lando joined you, their expressions reflecting a similar sense of contentment.
Water lilies floated gracefully on top of the clear waters, their delicate blooms adding a touch of elegance to the scene. 
"This is nice," Max remarked, leaning back against the bench. "Thanks for bringing us here."
Lando nodded, his gaze drifting across the garden. "Yeah, it's a hidden gem," he agreed. "I never would've found it on my own."
You smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction at sharing this special place with your neighbours. "I'm glad you both like it," you said warmly. "There's so much beauty to discover in this town if you know where to look."
As Lando admired the blooming flowers around him, his eyes settled on a particularly vibrant flower. With a grin, he plucked it from its stem, carefully holding it between his fingers.
"Hey, can I?" he asked, gesturing towards your hair with a playful twinkle in his eye.
You chuckled, nodding in amusement. "Sure, go ahead," you replied, tilting your head slightly to give him better access.
Lando leaned towards you with a grin, gently tucking the flower behind your ear. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingers brushing against your skin as he adjusted the placement of the bloom.
"There," he said with satisfaction, leaning back to admire his handiwork. "Looks perfect."
You couldn't help but smile at the gesture, feeling a warmth spread through you at the simple yet thoughtful gesture. "Thank you," you said softly, meeting Lando's gaze with appreciation.
You picked out another flower, holding it in front of him with a small smile. “My turn?” 
Lando chuckled, leaning forward and allowing you to place the flower behind his ear. His gaze remained steady on your face, watching as you stuck the tip of your tongue out between your lips in concentration. 
Leaning back, you looked at him with a smile. “There, now we match.” 
“I see how it is,” Max grumbled from beside you, earning a chuckle from you and Lando. 
Simultaneously, you and Lando picked out a couple of flowers, and placed them in his hair, his curls holding it steady. 
“Cute,” you commented once you completed the masterpiece with the last flower. Max laughed as he looked at himself in his phone camera, snapping a selfie for memories before telling you and Lando to join. 
Your face was squished between Lando and Max’s faces, both men displaying a cheesy grin for the photo, making you join in as well. 
As the gentle breeze ruffled through the garden, Lando turned towards you with a curious glint in his eyes. “Are there any other magical places you want to show us?” 
You pondered for a moment, considering the myriad of hidden gems scattered throughout the town. “Well, there’s one more spot I have in mind,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. 
Max perked up at the mention of another adventure, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “I’m in, lead the way.” 
With a nod, you rose from the bench, the flower in your hair swaying gently with the movement. “Let’s go,” you said, gesturing for Max and Lando to join you as you embarked on the next part of your journey. 
As you led Max and Lando out of the garden, the thought of another special place lingered in your mind. The lighthouse, with its storied history and breathtaking views, beckoned to you like a beacon in the distance. 
Lost in thought, you considered whether to reveal this cherished spot to your neighbours. The lighthouse held a special significance for you, a place of solace and reflection that you rarely shared with others. But something about Max and Lando’s genuine curiosity and enthusiasm stirred something within you, prompting you to entertain the idea of introducing them to this hidden gem. 
With a flicker of determination, you made up your mind. The lighthouse would be the perfect finale to your tour, a fitting conclusion to a day filled with discovery and adventure. 
As you neared the lighthouse, it stood tall against the sky, looking sturdy and ancient. Lando seemed really excited, his eyes wide as he took it all in. Max looked a bit unsure, especially when he saw the stairs leading up. 
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” you said softly once you saw Lando’s expression, feeling a sense of awe yourself. 
He nodded eagerly, clearly impressed. “Yeah, it’s really cool,” he said, his voice filled with excitement. 
“Are we going up there?” Max asked, a hint of apprehension creeping into his voice as he surveyed the towering structure. 
You nodded, a sense of reverence washing over you as you gazed up at the weathered bricks and the solitary lateen perched at the top of the lighthouse. “Yes, it’s probably my favourite spot in this entire town.” 
But Max seemed hesitant, eyeing the stairs with doubt. “I’m not too sure about this,” he admitted quietly. 
You understood his feelings and wanted to reassure him. “That’s okay, Max,” you said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t have to climb all the way up if you don’t want to. We can still explore around here.” 
Max glanced at Lando, “actually you know what? you guys should go up.” Max said suddenly, giving you a nod, “I’ll stay down here.” 
You frowned, “are you sure? I can show you around elsewhere.” 
But Max shook his head, “yeah, I’m sure. I know Lando really wants to check it out and I don’t wanna hold you guys back.” 
“You’re gonna miss out, mate, just c’mon it’s a couple stairs,” Lando tried to convince his best friend. 
He shook his head, “a couple? Looks like a lot, no, I’m good.” 
With a final nod of reassurance, you and Lando headed towards the first couple of stairs, leaving Max behind. As you began the trek upwards, your comment from earlier intrigued Lando. “Why is this your favourite spot?” 
“People don’t come here often, perhaps it’s because of the story behind it,” you replied, your words tinged with a hint of mystery. 
“What, is it haunted or something?” He asked, a skeptical look crossing his face. 
You shook your head, a wistful smile playing on your lips. “Legend says that this lighthouse is haunted, but I believe it’s just a tragic love story,” you explained. 
“A love story? Do tell,” Lando urged, his curiosity piqued. 
“It was decades ago, the story passed on from neighbour to neighbour, so I’m not exactly sure which parts are true,” you forewarned. 
Lando smiled, “and you’re passing it on to your neighbour.” 
You glanced back at him, pausing for a moment so he could catch up, standing on the same step as you, just a tad bit taller. You didn’t realize how narrow the staircase was until he was standing beside you, since you’ve only ever come here alone. 
The air was heavy with the scent of salt and sea, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore echoed faintly in the distance. Lando's eyes scanned your face, patiently waiting to hear the story. 
You cleared your throat, looking away from him. "You see, there was once a young couple who sought refuge in this lighthouse," you began, your voice tinged with a hint of melancholy, recounting an old tale. "They were not from noble families or romance novels, but rather ordinary people with ordinary lives."
Lando leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued by the hint of mystery in your voice, causing you to shift on your feet but still remaining in the same spot, almost pressed against the wall beside you. 
"The young man was a fisherman, his days spent toiling away on the sea, his hands calloused from years of hard work," you continued, your words painting a picture of a life marked by struggle and perseverance. "And the young woman was a seamstress, her fingers nimble with the needle and thread, her dreams tempered by the harsh realities of life."
Lando's gaze softened with empathy as he imagined the challenges faced by the young couple. 
"But despite the hardships they endured, their love burned fiercely, a flame that refused to be extinguished by the storms of life," you said, your voice tinged with admiration for the resilience of the human spirit. "They would steal moments together in the quiet solitude of the lighthouse, finding solace in each other's arms amidst the chaos of the world."
Lando's heart swelled with warmth at the thought of such a simple yet profound love. You cleared your throat once you saw a hint of his smile, turning away and continuing your trek up the stairs while continuing the story. 
"But their happiness was fleeting, as life has a way of testing even the strongest of bonds," you continued, your voice growing somber as you recounted the challenges faced by the young couple. "Their days were filled with hardship and uncertainty, their dreams overshadowed by the harsh realities of poverty."
Lando followed after you, his breath caught in his throat as he listened, his heart heavy with the weight of the young couple's struggles. 
"And so, when tragedy struck and the young man was lost at sea, the young woman was left alone to face the cruel hand of fate," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of the wind howling through the lighthouse. "Her grief was a burden too heavy to bear, her tears a testament to the depth of her sorrow."
Tears welled in Lando's eyes as he imagined the young woman's pain. 
"And though the years passed and the world moved on, the lighthouse remained standing as a silent witness to the love that once flourished within its walls," you concluded, your voice tinged with a sense of reverence for the enduring legacy of the young couple. "Their spirits may have faded into the mists of time, but their love lives on in the whispers of the wind and the crashing of the waves, a reminder that even in the darkest of nights, love can be a guiding light."
Lando remained silent, his heart heavy with the weight of the young couple's story, as he pondered the fragile nature of love and the enduring power of human resilience in the face of adversity.
“You’re not making this up, are you?” He asked, just to be sure, but once he didn’t see you burst out laughing, he knew the answer. 
"Legend has it that their spirits linger within these walls, bound by an eternal love that transcends the confines of time," you explained. "They say the light still flickers on stormy nights, a beacon of hope in the darkness, as if she's searching for her lost love amidst the crashing waves."
As you and Lando continued climbing the spiral staircase, the wooden steps creaked beneath your feet, each groan echoing through the hollow chamber like a whispered secret. The air grew cooler as you ascended, a faint scent of salt lingering in the air, a reminder of the vast expanse of ocean that stretched out beyond the horizon.
With each step, the world outside faded away, replaced by the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the narrow windows, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow on the worn stone walls. Lando's footsteps fell in sync with yours, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of the swirling emotions that stirred within you.
As you reach the top of the lighthouse, a sense of awe washed over you, the panoramic view of the coastline stretching out before you like a painting come to life. The sea stretched out endlessly, its surface shimmering in the sunlight, while seagulls soared overhead, their cries mingling with the distant roar of the waves. It’s a sight you’ve seen many times, but every time still feels like the first. 
Lando stood beside you, his gaze fixed on the horizon, his expression a mixture of wonder and awe. For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the weight of the young couple's story hanging heavy in the air, a reminder of the fragile nature of love and the enduring power of human resilience.
As the light of the setting sun bathed the world in a warm golden glow, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you, a quiet acceptance of the mysteries that lay hidden within the depths of the human heart.
With a soft sigh, you turned to Lando, a small smile playing on your lips. "Isn't it beautiful?" you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
Lando nodded, his eyes shining with a newfound appreciation for the simple beauty of the world around him. "It's breathtaking," he agreed, his voice tinged with emotion.
As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting vibrant hues of orange and pink across the sky, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the breathtaking beauty of the sunset. The world seemed to slow down, the cares and worries of the day fading away as you stood transfixed by the natural spectacle unfolding before you.
But as the sky darkened and the first stars began to twinkle overhead, a pang of realization cut through the tranquil moment. It was almost nighttime, which meant it was time for your pills. You glanced at your watch, a flicker of anxiety fluttering in your chest as you calculated the minutes ticking away.
For a brief moment, you considered the consequences of being late in taking your medication. The regimen was strict, the consequences dire if you missed a dose. But as you looked at Lando standing beside you, gazing at you,  his eyes reflecting the colors of the setting sun, a different thought crossed your mind.
Maybe, just this once, it was worth it to be a little late. Maybe, in this moment of shared beauty and connection, the rules could be bent just enough to allow you to savor the fleeting magic of the evening.
With a soft smile, you tucked the thought away, allowing yourself to linger a little while longer in the warm embrace of the sunset. 
“Stay like that,” Lando instructed with a pointed finger at you. 
“Like what?” You mumbled. 
“Don’t move a muscle,” he hastily replied, holding the straps of the camera that was hung around his neck, quickly turning it on and pointing at you. 
“You look beautiful in this light,” He stated, slightly gesturing to his camera before raising it. 
A tint of blush covered your cheeks but you didn’t prevent him from taking a photo of you. 
Remaining still, you heard the shutter click, once, twice, and even a third time before he was satisfied with the result. 
“What are you going to do with those photos?” You ask, remembering that he’s taken quite a lot of them today, of all the different sceneries. 
“Put 'em in an album, you know, for memories, and I can’t forget my favourite tour guide,” he said with a cheeky grin. 
“Favourite? That’s quite a title for only the first day,” you teased with a smile, leaning against the railing, choosing to look at Lando instead of the setting sun. 
“You know how to make a good impression, it’s hard not to call you my favourite.” 
You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "Well, I'm glad I could leave a good impression," you replied, a hint of playfulness in your tone.
Lando grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You've done more than that," he said, his voice softening. "You've shown us a side of this town that we never would've discovered on our own."
You felt a swell of pride at his words, grateful for the opportunity to share your hometown with new friends. "I'm just happy I could show you around," you said sincerely.
As the last rays of sunlight faded into darkness, you reluctantly tore your gaze away from Lando's, the moment of connection lingering in the air between you. "I suppose we should head back now," you said, a hint of regret coloring your voice.
Lando hesitated but nodded in agreement, “can’t keep Max waiting this long.” 
But before you could move, he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Thank you, for everything," he said softly, his eyes searching yours.
You felt your heart skip a beat at his touch, a rush of warmth flooding through you at the intimate gesture. "You're welcome," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
With a lingering smile, Lando turned and started back towards the path, leaving you standing alone on the balcony, your thoughts swirling with a heady mix of emotions. Shaking your head to rid yourself of those thoughts, you followed him down the steps. 
“Mate, it’s good that you didn’t come, she said it’s haunted.” You heard Lando’s voice, speaking to Max. 
When you came into his view, Max looked at you with widened eyes, “haunted?” 
You shrugged, looking at Lando, “it’ll make for a good bedtime story, don’t you think?” 
Max started shaking his head, but Lando nodded, “I’ll be sure to tell him right before he gets a good night’s sleep.” 
On the way back home, Lando had been so impressed by your touring skills that he had already started asking about your plans for the next day. With no responsibilities on your schedule, the three of you decided to go hiking on a nearby trail.
As you reached your cottage, the familiar sense of fatigue washed over you, dulling the edges of your excitement from the day’s activities. With a wave and a promise to meet again tomorrow for more adventures, you bid farewell to Lando and Max, watching as they walked off to the villa. 
Once they were out of sight, you allowed your smile to fade, the weight of the day settling heavily on your shoulders. The ache in your joints intensified, a reminder of the illness that lurked beneath the surface, threatening to consume you if you let your guard down. 
Stepping inside the cottage, you were surprised to find Isaac waiting for you in the dimly lit living room. His expression was a mix of concern and mild frustration as he looked up from his book.
"You didn’t take your nightly pills on time," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You know you can’t skip it."
You sighed, the heaviness in your chest feeling almost unbearable. "Isaac, stop acting like our mother," you mumbled, moving past him to the kitchen.
Isaac followed you, not willing to let it go. "I’m serious. You’ve had a long day, and you need to take care of yourself. I don’t want you to overdo it."
Grabbing the bottle of medication from the counter, you turned to face him, irritation mingling with the fatigue in your eyes. "I know, okay? I just wanted one evening where I didn’t have to think about it. Just one."
He watched you with a mix of empathy and helplessness, understanding your need for normalcy but unable to ignore the reality of your condition. "I get it, I really do. But skipping your meds isn’t the way to do it."
With a heavy sigh, you filled a glass with water and downed the pills, the bitter taste lingering on your tongue. "Happy now?" you muttered, setting the empty glass down.
Isaac's expression softened, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. "I’m just worried about you," he said quietly.
You nodded, the weight of his concern settling heavily on your shoulders. "I know. I appreciate it, really. It’s just… sometimes it’s hard to keep going like this."
He reached out and squeezed your shoulder gently. "We’ll get through it, together. Just promise me you’ll take it easy tomorrow, okay?"
A faint smile tugged at your lips as you nodded. "Go get some sleep. You’ve been waiting up for me."
Isaac gave you a small, reassuring smile before heading to his room. As you settled into bed, the weight of exhaustion dragging at your limbs, you couldn’t help but wonder how many more days like this lay ahead. The uncertainty of the future loomed large in your mind, casting a shadow over even the simplest moments of joy.
As you drifted off to sleep, your thoughts lingered on Lando and Max. Their arrival felt like a breath of fresh air, a chance to momentarily forget about your illness and embrace a semblance of normalcy. They didn’t know about your condition, which meant they wouldn't look at you with pity or treat you like a fragile doll. Their presence offered a respite from the constant reminders of your limitations, an opportunity to live in the moment and savor each day as it came.
For so long, your life had been governed by routines and restrictions, every decision weighed against the backdrop of your illness. But with Lando and Max, you felt a sense of freedom, an invitation to break away from the chains that bound you. They saw you not as someone fragile, but as a capable guide and a new friend. You wanted to hold onto that feeling, to let their presence remind you of who you were beyond the confines of your diagnosis.
Their energy and zest for life felt like a tonic; lifting your spirits and reigniting your desire to experience the world beyond your illness. With them, you could laugh freely, explore without fear, and simply be yourself without constantly worrying. Yet, there was a lingering guilt that gnawed at you, a silent whisper that you were using them, exploiting their company to escape your reality. 
Despite the joy they brought, this guilt cast a shadow over your newfound happiness. You didn’t want to deceive them or yourself, but the allure of living fully and freely, even for a short while, was too tempting to resist. You resolved to make the most of their visit, using their company as an excuse to live as vibrant as you once did. 
The next morning, you moved with practiced stealth, careful not to make a sound as you gathered your hiking gear. The house was still and quiet, the early hour providing a perfect cover for your escape. You knew your brother would disapprove of your plans to go hiking with Lando, so you hoped to slip out before he noticed.
Just as you reached the front door, the sound of footsteps halted your progress. Turning, you saw Isaac standing there, a backpack slung over his shoulder, clearly ready to head out himself. His eyes narrowed as he took in your gear.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Isaac’s voice was tight with concern.
You sighed, knowing this confrontation was inevitable. “I’m going hiking with Lando. It’s just a short trail, nothing too strenuous.”
Isaac’s expression darkened. “Didn’t I tell you to take it easy? When are you going to take care of yourself?”
“What more do you want me to do?” you snapped, your frustration bubbling over. “Should I wrap myself up in bubble wrap and stay in bed until I inevitably die?”
“Don’t say that,” Isaac’s voice wavered, his concern morphing into something deeper and more painful.
“I have to!” you shouted, the dam of pent-up emotions finally breaking. “I have to acknowledge it, to you, to our parents, because while you guys are doing everything in your power to ignore it, it’s still gonna happen whether you like it or not.”
He took a step back, his face pale. “I just want you to be safe.”
“I’m going to die anyways,” you continued, your voice trembling with the weight of your confession. “Whether it’s tomorrow or a couple of weeks later, I’ve accepted that by now. You know why? Because even if I’m alive right now, I’m treated like a fucking corpse. I cannot do a single thing without our mother’s voice in my mind. ‘Oh, don’t stand for too long, don’t walk for too long, take your meds, don’t let your heartbeat speed up, don’t eat this, don’t eat that.’ It’s fucking tiring. Forget her, I can’t even be an older sister anymore for you. For god’s sake, you make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for us. You’re acting as if I can’t lift a single spoon.”
Isaac’s eyes were filled with tears now, but you couldn’t stop. The words poured out, each one a release of years of pent-up frustration and pain. “The entire town knows, Isaac. Any time I go out, I see the pity in their eyes. You know who doesn’t know? Lando and Max. And I have no plans on telling them because they actually treat me like a healthy human, something you guys won’t ever do again.”
You didn’t wait for his response, not allowing him to speak. You walked out the door, letting it close behind you with a finality that echoed your determination. 
When you reached, Lando was already waiting for you by the trailhead, leaning casually against a tree with his backpack at his feet. He waved when he saw you approaching, his smile faltering slightly as he noticed the tension in your posture and the slight frown on your face.
"Hey, there you are!" he called out, his voice bright. "I was starting to think you'd changed your mind."
"Sorry, I'm a bit late," you replied, forcing a smile.
Lando's brow furrowed with concern. "Everything okay?"
You waved it off, not wanting to delve into the argument with Isaac. "Yeah, just had a rough morning. Let's get going, shall we?"
He nodded, still seeming a bit unsure. "Alright, if you say so." He hoisted his backpack over his shoulder and fell into step beside you as you started down the trail.
“Max isn’t joining us today?” you asked as you started the hike.
Lando shrugged playfully. “Nah, he’s not really the hiking type.”
In truth, Lando thought back to the moment he convinced Max to do something else. He had wanted this time alone with you, to get to know you better without any distractions. The way your face lit up when you talked about your favorite places made him want to see more of that joy.
You laughed, shaking your head. "Yeah, he doesn't seem like the outdoorsy type. I guess we'll have to find something else to drag him into."
As you continued along the path, Lando’s closeness became even more evident. He would occasionally place his hand on your back to guide you over rough terrain or hold your hand to help you across a stream. Each touch was gentle yet charged with an energy that made your heart race.
The path wound through a dense forest, dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy above. The air was fresh, filled with the scent of pine and the sound of birds chirping. As you walked, the tension from your argument with Isaac began to ease, the peaceful surroundings and Lando's infectious enthusiasm slowly lifting your spirits.
"Maybe we can convince him to join us on a beach day or something," Lando said, his thoughts lingering on how much he enjoyed these moments alone with you. "But honestly, I'm kinda glad it's just the two of us today. More time to get to know my favorite tour guide."
You felt a flutter in your chest at his words, the compliment warming you from the inside. “Still your favorite tour guide, huh?”
He shrugged playfully. "The competition is tough, but you’re always coming out on top. Besides, I figured I needed some one-on-one time to really experience what this town has to offer."
As the trail began to climb, you focused on your breathing, matching your pace to Lando's. The conversation drifted to lighter topics, and you found yourself relaxing more with each step. The forest opened up to a meadow filled with wildflowers, the colors vivid and bright under the morning sun.
Lando knelt down to take a photo of a particularly vibrant patch of flowers. "This place is incredible. How do you know all these hidden spots?"
"I've lived here my whole life," you said, watching him as he adjusted the focus on his camera. "Spent a lot of time exploring."
"Must be nice," he said, standing up and looking around. "Having all this beauty right in your backyard."
"Yeah, it is," you replied, though your thoughts drifted back to the times you wanted to leave this place. "Sometimes you take it for granted until you share it with someone else."
Eventually, you reached a lookout point with a breathtaking view of the coastline along with the lighthouse you explored yesterday. The ocean stretched out endlessly, waves glittering in the sunlight. Lando pulled out his camera again, capturing the scene and a few candid shots of you taking in the view.
"This is amazing," he said, his voice filled with awe. "Thanks for bringing me here."
You smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment mixed with a pang of guilt. Lando didn’t know the real reason behind your determination to hike today, nor the weight you were trying to escape. 
"You're welcome," you replied. "I'm glad you're here to share it with me."
As you stood there, side by side with Lando, your words said to Isaac still lingered in the back of your mind, wondering if you'd said the wrong thing. You knew that you had to take a stand for yourself, otherwise you’d be pressured into regret, but he’s also your brother and he’s always wanted the best for you. You pushed those thoughts down, determined to make the most of this day as if it was your last. 
With Lando's enthusiasm and the beauty of the surroundings, you found it easier to forget, even if just for a little while, the shadow that always loomed over you.
"So, what's next on our adventure?" Lando asked, breaking the silence.
You laughed softly. "Let's just see where the trail takes us."
Once Lando was satisfied with the amount of photos he took, you began to descend the trail from the lookout point. The path became steeper causing you to walk carefully, trying to focus on your footing. 
The trail wound through another section of dense forest with the ground covered in a thick layer of fallen leaves. You and Lando continued to chat, touching upon all sorts of topics. 
Just as you were starting to relax, your foot caught on a hidden root and you found yourself losing balance. Panic surged through you as your ankle twisted painfully. Before you could hit the ground, Lando was there, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you upright. His grip was strong and steady, and you clung to him for a moment, trying to catch your breath and process the sudden burst of pain. 
“Whoa, are you okay?” Lando asked, concern etched on his face as he steadied you. 
You winced, trying to put weight on your ankle and finding it difficult. “I think I twisted my ankle.” 
Lando’s brows furrowed with worry. “Let’s sit down for a minute. Here, lean on me.” 
He guided you to a nearby rock, helping you sit down gently. He knelt in front of you, examining your ankle with a careful touch. “Does it hurt a lot?” 
You nodded, biting your lip to keep from crying out. “Yeah, it does.”
Lando looked around, his face serious. “I think we should head back. I don’t want you to make it worse.”
You sighed, feeling a wave of frustration mixed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Lando. I didn’t mean to ruin our hike.”
He shook his head, his expression softening. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Your safety is more important than the hike. Besides, we can always come back another time.”
He helped you stand, supporting your weight as you gingerly tested your injured ankle. With his arm around your waist, you felt a mixture of gratitude and awkwardness, acutely aware of his closeness and the concern in his eyes.
As you slowly made your way back down the trail, Lando stayed close, his grip on you firm but gentle. His presence was comforting, and despite the pain, you felt a sense of connection with him that was hard to ignore.
Back at the trailhead, Lando leads you towards his car, surprising you. “When did you get a car?” 
“Figured I’d rent one while I’m here, just so we don’t have to walk everywhere,” Lando shrugged as he explained. 
He helped you into his car, making sure you were comfortable before getting in himself. He started the car, casting quick glances at you to ensure you were alright. The engine’s hum was a soothing background noise as he navigated the road back to town. 
“You know,” he began, trying to lighten the mood, “I think this might be the first hike I’ve been on where we didn’t make it to the top.”
You chuckled softly, appreciating his effort to keep things light. “There’s a first for everything, I guess.”
He smiled, eyes focused on the road. “Yeah, and now we have an excuse to do it again. When you’re feeling better, of course.”
You leaned back, the pain in your ankle dulling slightly with the rest. “I appreciate that, Lando. And I promise, next time, no hidden roots.”
He laughed, a genuine sound that made you feel a bit better about the whole situation. “Deal.”
As you pulled into the town, Lando’s concern was still evident. “Do you want to go straight to the clinic, or should we stop by your place first?”
“Home is fine,” you replied. “I’ll just need some ice and rest.”
Lando nodded, driving directly to your house. He parked and quickly came around to help you out. With his support, you hobbled across the driveway to the front door, quickly finding your keys and entering. 
Inside, you settled on the couch while Lando fetched some ice from the kitchen with your directions. He elevated your foot, resting it on a cushion before gently placing the ice pack on your ankle. “Keep this on for a while,” he instructed, earning a chuckle from you. 
“Okay, Doctor Lando.” You winced slightly at the cold but knew it was necessary. “Thank you,” you muttered softly as he joined you on the couch. 
“Hey, what are friends for?” He shot back.
You raised your eyebrows. “When did we become friends?” you asked teasingly. 
Without a beat, he responded, “from the moment you told me I got scammed.” 
You shook your head with a smile on your face. His genuine care and the connection you felt during the hike was undeniable. Despite the pain and the day’s mishap, you still enjoyed it all. 
As you both sat there, the sun beginning to set outside, you felt a strange sense of peace. Maybe you couldn’t control everything about your condition, but you could control how you spent your time. Right now, with Lando by your side, you felt like you were making the most of it. 
“How about we watch a movie?” Lando suggested, breaking the comfortable silence. “Something to take your mind off things.” 
“That sounds perfect,” you agreed. 
As the movie started, you felt the tension of the day begin to fade, replaced by a warm sense of contentment. As the soft glow of the television cast a warm light across the room, you heard the front door creak open. You tensed slightly, knowing it was Isaac. The memory of your heated argument from earlier that morning returned to your mind like it was fresh, and you weren’t sure how he would react to finding Lando here. 
Isaac stepped into the living room, his eyes flicking between you and Lando, and then down to your ankle propped up with an ice pack. His brows furrowed in surprise, and his look spoke volumes — a silent “I told you so” about taking it too far.
“Hey,” Isaac said, his tone carefully neutral as he addressed Lando. “What’s going on here?”
“Hey,” Lando responded, sensing the tension but keeping his tone friendly. “We went hiking, and she twisted her ankle.”
Isaac’s eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of concern and frustration flashing across his face. “I see.”
You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the need to explain but also not wanting to escalate the situation. “It’s just a sprain, Isaac. Lando’s been helping me out.”
Isaac nodded curtly, his gaze softening slightly but still clearly worried. “Thanks, mate,” he addressed Lando. 
He started towards the kitchen, clearly not wanting to prolong the conversation but not ignoring your presence either.
You watched him go, feeling a mix of relief and lingering tension. The argument had left a mark, but you could see that he was making an effort to understand your perspective, even if he wasn’t ready to talk about it.
Lando glanced at you, sensing the undercurrent of emotion. “You and your brother… everything okay?”
You sighed softly, not wanting to burden him with the details. “We had a disagreement earlier. It’s complicated.”
He nodded, not pushing further but offering a supportive presence. “Well, I’m here if you need anything.”
Isaac reappeared a few minutes later with a glass of water, which he handed to you without a word. You took it with a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
He simply nodded again and headed to his room, leaving you and Lando alone in the living room. Despite the brief interaction, you felt a subtle shift in Isaac’s demeanor. He was trying, in his own way, to respect your wishes and not overdo his concern for your illness.
As the movie continued, you found yourself relaxing again, the earlier tension easing away. Lando’s easygoing nature and the quiet understanding from your brother provided a much-needed sense of balance.
The minutes ticked by, and you found yourself growing more comfortable and drowsy, especially with Lando’s warm presence beside you. Earlier, you had mentioned feeling cold, due to the ice, and he had fetched a blanket, draping it over both of you. As you nestled into the couch, the combination of the movie’s soft soundtrack and Lando’s steady breathing lulled you into a peaceful sleep.
Lando noticed when your head gently rested against his shoulder, your breathing deep and even. He smiled softly, careful not to move and disturb you. As the credits began to roll, he glanced at his watch and realized it was getting late. Reluctantly, he decided it was time to leave.
He gently shifted, trying to move without waking you. Before he got up, he couldn’t resist the urge to lean in and press a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment. It was an instinctive gesture, filled with affection that he hadn’t fully acknowledged until now.
Carefully, he adjusted the blanket to ensure you were snug and warm. He stood up quietly, casting one last fond look at you before making his way to the door. Lando left silently, closing the door with a soft click, leaving you to your dreams.
An hour later, Isaac retreated from his bedroom, finding you fast asleep on the couch. Instead of waking you, he went to the kitchen and fetched your evening medicine and a glass of water. Returning to the living room, he placed them gently on the table beside the couch, ensuring they’d be the first things you saw when you woke up.
Isaac stood there for a moment, watching you sleep peacefully. Despite the argument earlier, he understood your desire to live fully, even if it scared him. With a sigh, he retreated back to his room, hoping that you’d find a balance between living your life and taking care of yourself. The quiet house seemed to settle around your sleeping form, a brief moment of peace amidst the whirlwind of emotions and challenges.
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undercoverpena · 1 day
Text
when his eyes open
joel miller x f!reader | masterlist
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summary: joel wakes and admires you and the morning.
wordcount: <600 warnings: joeticness, a little angst, a little twisty. an: dedicated to @joelscruff, who told me this was one of her favourite gifs when i asked for inspo for my first ever giflet. for info on giflet's, see @morallyinept's list here. gif credit to the wonderful, amazing @perotovar.
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Before, the routine had been to simply make it through.
To survive another day in a place where crimson clings to clotted wounds, where weeds choke signs as rot consumes all that once lived. 
There are names that linger on his lips. Indelibly stained, carved deep inside him. Never forgotten, each a raw wound with grief around them that throbbed incessantly. Each woven into the very fabric of his soul.
When his eyes close, a horror movie plays on repeat. Blood-soaked shirts and the crack in his voice when he shouts. The snarl in his throat when skulls shatter and bodies break. In these brutal moments, he found himself living again, in a way that's both savage and necessary, the violence a perverse affirmation of his existence.
Plagued—tormented.
Then he wakes, and the truth crashes down—it’s not a movie, but his life. A routine he trudged through for so long until he found this place. A place where sunrise doesn’t mean pack up and move. Where golden light caresses the room he’s been given, kisses the guitar that has built callouses instead of his gun. Light falls softly on things he’s crafted with his hands, hands that once only knew how to take and destroy.
Joel wakes in a room, inside of a home, that’s now his.
A younger him might have given more for the kindness shown to him. The sacrifices he made would have felt meaningful, the blood spilt a necessary price. But now, the weight of his sins, the lives he’s shattered, and the innocence long lost have left him hollow. Acts of kindness feel like a cruel jest, an echo from a life he can barely remember, a life he feels he no longer deserves. In this quiet dawn, amidst the gentle light, he is haunted by the shadows of what he’s become.
But he's tired, worn. The face that greets him in the mirror is now aged, beaten down, and scorched by the relentless elements. Not that you seem to care.
You, who, as his lashes lift and focus, he finds reading for the second time this week. Twisted away from him, the book tilted to catch the sunlight so you don’t strain your eyes. You’d traded for it, your thumb lifting the corner of the page before dragging it to the opposite side—so loud in the quiet.
Joel doesn’t need to steal a moment, but he does all the same. He’s so used to taking, after all. 
He admires how the years have been a little kinder to you than they have to him. How you are a rare sweetness in a world that knows only bitterness. A thing that would have been coveted before and is now more than cherished. He appreciates you when his body doesn’t betray him, when age doesn’t force his eyes closed as his spine meets the bed. But when he can, when he’s able, he leaves marks that’ll last for days—a prickly burn on your inner thighs as you weave your fingers into the hair he’s not allowed to cut. When he holds you so tightly atop him, he knows you can trace the bruises he’s left.
You leave your own marks too. One of them from simply looking at him, showing him that smile—the one that could stop a younger man's heart.
He waits for another page to turn, eyes closing and reopening before he slides his palm over your knee.
Morning, you say.
Morning, he replies.
A new routine, one he doesn’t hate, yet it haunts him with its simplicity and its promise of a fragile peace.
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