#i want them on my luggage too now...

[mayor-david-prentiss]

sticker designed for a friend 🥰 if you take them with you on a long journey you'll be all right (maybe)

[aleksatia]

You had an argument, and in the heat of the moment, you took on a secret mission—disappearing without a trace or warning for six days. He won’t let that slide, will he?

(⚠️ Warning: Slightly angsty and dramatic) 🔥 UPD: Guys, I hear you loud and clear about Xavier, and I'm already working on his full story. Let me know if you want more about the others (or any specific one).

🖐️💥😈 Sylus 

You don’t even make it home.

One second—you’re stepping toward your door. The next—you're grabbed.

A sharp yelp leaves your lips, but it’s already too late.

One hand clamps down on your shoulder, the other hooks around your legs, and suddenly—you're airborne.

"Cargo secured."

A second voice. Muffled. Hollow.

You twist wildly.

Two figures in black masks, sharp beaked visors, curved horns on their hoods.

Luke and Kieran.

You thrash. “Put me down—”

"No can do, Miss," Kieran hums, flipping you upside down just slightly.

"Our Boss gave very strict orders," Luke murmurs.

Your stomach sinks. The car door swings open—

And you’re shoved inside.

Kieran and Luke plop down beside you, silent as shadows.

Then—

Luke sighs. Long and exaggerated.

"Such a shame," he muses. "She was so pretty."

Kieran hums. "So full of life."

Your eyes narrow. “What.”

They tilt their heads in unison. Luke’s fingers drum against the seat.

"He was so worried."

Kieran exhales. "On the first day, he simply waited."

Luke nods. "Second day, he sent people out. Checked hospitals. Crime scenes."

Kieran’s head tilts. "By day three… well, we all knew something had to bleed."

Your stomach drops.

Luke stretches, relaxed. "Four syndicates fell in one night. Just in case one of them had you."

Kieran sighs. "On the fourth day, he realized that wasn’t enough."

Luke hums. "So he started getting creative."

Your breath hitches. "Creative?"

Kieran taps his chin. "That warehouse in N109 Zone? The one that burned to the ground?"

Luke leans closer. "Day five. Still no sign of you. He collapsed an entire district."

Kieran shrugs. "Nothing personal. Just a message."

Luke tilts his head. "And then day six came."

A beat of silence.

Kieran chuckles. "You know, Miss… If you hadn’t shown up today, N109 Zone would’ve been repainted in blood by sundown."

Luke sighs dreamily. "It still might be."

Your blood turns to ice.

And then—Luke’s head tilts toward you.

"Now…?"

Kieran completes it, a beat later.

"Now he has you."

The car slows. Your chest tightens. And then—you realize where you are.

N109 Zone. His estate.

The car door swings open—

And you’re hauled out like luggage.

"Handle with care," Luke hums.

“I am handling with care," Kieran murmurs.

They carry you inside. Set you down with eerie gentleness. Smooth out your jacket. Brush imaginary dust off your shoulders.

Then—they step back. Bow, deep and slow.

“Welcome home, Miss.”

And then—they’re gone.

You whirl after them. “HEY—”

A quiet sound.

Fabric rustling. A slow, deliberate exhale.

You freeze.

And then—you turn.

Sylus is standing across the room. Calm. Collected. Expression unreadable.

But his eyes. They burn.

You swallow.

“What the fuck was that?” you snap, motioning toward the door.

Silence.

He just… watches you.

Then—slowly, smoothly—

He shrugs off his jacket. Lets it fall onto the chair. His fingers move to his cuffs. Undoing them.

One. Then the other.

Rolling his sleeves up, inch by inch.

Your stomach twists.

“Sylus.”

He doesn’t answer. His hands move to his belt. He unbuckles it. Pulls it free.

And you—

You fucking run.

You BOLT.

Straight toward the door. It’s locked.

You curse.

Behind you—he clicks his tongue.

“Oh, Kitten,�� he murmurs, voice low, almost amused.

You spin, darting behind the desk. He follows. Casually. Slowly.

“You disappear for six days,” he murmurs, voice smooth, mocking, deadly.

You sidestep. He matches you.

“You ignore my calls.”

You swerve left. He steps right.

“I tear this city apart looking for you.”

You dodge back. He adjusts effortlessly.

“And now,” he exhales, tilting his head, smirking lazily, “you’re running.”

You hurl a stapler at him. He catches it. Drops it. Sighs.

Then—his patience snaps.

A sharp pulse of red energy explodes outward. The desk flips. The chairs crash against the wall.

And suddenly—

You are out of places to run. Before you can move—

He has you.

A sharp yelp rips from your throat as he grabs you, spins, and drops into his chair—

Bringing you down over his lap.

Your breath catches. “Sylus—”

"Ah, ah, ah.”

His palm glides down your back. Teasing. Amused. Smug.

"You made a very poor choice, Kitten."

Your heart pounds. His fingers hook into your waistband. And in one sharp motion—

He pulls your pants down.

Your entire body jolts. “Wait—”

The first smack lands. Sharp. Stinging.

You jerk violently.

Then—the second.

Then—the third.

“Sylus—you absolute bastard!”

A low chuckle vibrates through his chest.

“Six days, Sweetie.”

Another smack.

“You think you get away with that?”

You snarl, thrashing. “You—I’ll kill you!”

"Oh?" His hand presses against your lower back, keeping you pinned.

Then—lower now, smooth as silk, dripping with mockery—

“You sure you can handle that right now?”

You growl.

And then—

You bite him. Hard. Right on the thigh.

His breath hitches. Then—a slow, dangerous laugh.

He grabs you. Turns you over, setting you between his legs, hands gripping your chin—forcing you to look at him.

And then—

You see it. The rage is gone.

And in its place—

Something raw. Something wrecked. Like he’s aged years in just six days.

His voice—when it comes—is low. Hoarse. Unsteady.

“…I thought Ever carved you up for spare parts.”

Your stomach drops.

"You really think," his fingers twitch against your skin, "I was just waiting?"

His eyes flick over your face, scanning, memorizing. And then—softer now, almost broken—

"If you hadn’t come back tomorrow, I would’ve wiped them off the face of the earth."

Your eyes sting. Your hands reach for him, trembling.

You slide forward, onto his lap.

His breath stutters.

And then—you kiss him. Hard. Desperate. Unyielding.

He shudders.

Then—his hands clench around your waist, crushing you to him. When he pulls back—forehead pressed against yours, breath uneven—

“…Next time you disappear,” he murmurs, lips brushing your cheek, voice shaking with something terrifyingly real, “I’m not looking for you.”

Your heart cracks. You shake your head. You cup his face. Hold him there.

“…You won’t have to.”

Silence.

Then—

His grip tightens. And just like that—

He is never letting you go again.

❄️🩸💔 Zayne

You already know where he is.

Zayne isn’t home. Of course, he isn’t.

So you do the only thing that makes sense—you head straight for Akso Hospital.

By the time you step through the pristine glass doors, you’re already talking.

“I know how this looks, but I can explain—”

And then—you see him.

Standing near the nurses’ station, uniform crisp, posture rigid, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat like he’s carved from ice.

For a second—just a second—his breath catches.

But then—

A switch flips. His entire presence shifts.

Cold. Professional. Untouchable.

His eyes meet yours. And he says nothing.

No relief. No anger. Nothing.

Just pure, hollow emptiness.

You swallow hard. Force yourself to continue.

“Zayne—”

“You need medical attention.”

His voice is calm. Impersonal. A doctor speaking to a patient. Not the man you know.

Your stomach twists.

He doesn’t ask where you’ve been. Doesn’t ask why you disappeared. Instead—he starts listing symptoms.

“You’re pale. Have you lost blood?”

You inhale sharply. “Zay—”

“Concussion?”

“No—”

“Fever? Infection?”

His eyes flick to your scraped knuckles, the dried blood on your sleeve.

And you realize—

He’s not angry. He’s protecting himself. He’s shutting down. Like he already convinced himself you weren’t coming back. Like he already mourned you.

And something inside you breaks.

Your legs wobble.

You sway—

And then—

You collapse.

The reaction is instantaneous.

A sharp inhale. A rush of movement. A sudden, firm grip catching you before you hit the ground.

Zayne’s arms lock around you. One around your back, one under your legs, holding you effortlessly. His breathing is uneven. His fingers tremble against your skin.

“Hey���!” His voice is no longer detached. It’s urgent. Terrified.

He tilts your face up, eyes scanning for injuries, pupils blown wide with panic.

"You—" His breath shudders. “Shit, you're—”

But you don’t answer. Because you keep your eyes closed. Because you know exactly what you’re doing.

And for a moment, it works. For a moment, he’s yours again. For a moment, his walls are completely, irreparably shattered.

Then—

His steps slow. His breathing evens.

And suddenly—

He stops. And you feel it. That one single, damning second of realization.

Your eyes are closed, but you can hear it. The sharp, cold click in his mind as he figures it out.

His arms loosen. Too loose. Too fast.

And suddenly—you're falling.

You gasp sharply, hands instinctively grabbing at him—

But he catches you at the last second, lowering you onto the cold, sterile floor of his office with just enough control to keep you from truly getting hurt.

But barely.

His jaw is tight. His nostrils flare. His hands press into his thighs like he’s physically holding himself back from losing control.

Then—flat, quiet, lethal—

“You lied.”

Your stomach drops. You open your mouth—and then you feel it.

A sharp, aching throb in your knee. It hits all at once—the pain, the exhaustion, the weight of everything that happened.

Your throat tightens.

And then—before you can stop it—

Tears prick at your eyes.

Your voice comes out small, weak, broken.

“Zayne… my leg hurts.”

Everything stops. The air in the room shifts.

And suddenly—

The rage is gone. His walls crumble.

His gaze snaps to your knee—swollen, bruised, torn fabric revealing skin already darkening with a deep, painful contusion.

And just like that—he’s on his knees. The doctor in him takes over.

His hands tremble as they press to your leg, fingertips ghosting over the bruised flesh like it physically pains him to touch.

He leans down. And presses a soft, lingering kiss to the bruised skin.

Your breath catches.

His forehead presses gently against your knee. And then—a whisper, barely audible, like he’s afraid of his own voice.

“…I lost you.”

Your heart cracks wide open.

He inhales sharply, his fingers tightening against your leg, like he’s still trying to convince himself you’re real.

You slide off the chair. Sink onto the cold, sterile floor. Your hands come up, cup his face.

His breath stutters.

You press your forehead to his.

Hot. Unwavering. Eternal.

“Only death could take me from you.”

His eyes squeeze shut. And when they open again—

There’s nothing left but raw, agonizing devotion.

Then—

His hands reach for you. And this time, he doesn’t let go.

🪑🍎🎖️ Caleb

The door clicks shut behind you.

Something feels wrong. The air is too still. Too perfectly controlled.

And then—you see it.

The chair.

Placed dead center in the room.

The apartment is spotless. Too spotless. Like someone scrubbed it raw, wiped away every trace of warmth, every sign of life.

Your stomach tightens. And then—a voice.

Cold. Measured. Absolute.

"Sit down."

You turn sharply—

And there he is.

Colonel Caleb. Not your Caleb.

Not the man who kisses your forehead every morning. Not the man who makes you breakfast even when he’s running on two hours of sleep.

No.

This is the soldier. The commander. The man who could level entire cities with a single order.

And you are his captive.

Your jaw tightens. “Caleb, what the hell—”

"Sit. Down."

Your spine stiffens. “No.”

A flick of his fingers. The chair scrapes forward, slamming into the back of your knees.

You stumble, cursing—

But before you can react—a force clamps around you. G-forces shift. Gravity bends. The chair drags you back to the center of the room.

Then—weight locks around your limbs. You can’t stand. Can’t move. Your pulse spikes.

His face is unreadable. His eyes—stormy, dark, endless.

Like he hasn’t slept in six days.

A tablet activates in his hand.

Several floating screens appear around you, flickering with surveillance footage.

And then—his interrogation begins.

His voice is calm. Clinical. Devoid of warmth.

"In the hours before your disappearance, this man entered your building. Do you know him?"

You blink. “What—?”

He gestures at the screen. A blurry security cam shot.

You squint. “That’s—a fucking courier.”

"Interesting."

A swipe of his fingers. Another screen appears.

"You placed an order at a bookstore six days ago. Three books were delivered. For what purpose?"

You stare. “...For reading?”

His brows twitch.

"Curious. You spoke to the courier for over five minutes. What was discussed?"

Your hands clench into fists. “How the hell would I know?”

A beat of silence.

Then—softer now, dangerous in its evenness—

"You really expect me to believe you don’t remember?"

Your blood boils. “Are you seriously doing this right now?”

He swipes again. More footage. More records. More evidence that means nothing.

And you snap.

"You are losing your fucking mind."

His jaw tightens.

And then—

The gravity releases.

You lurch forward, finally able to move—

But before you can get up—

he’s already there.

A single step. One hand gripping the back of your chair, tilting it back—

His face is inches from yours. His gaze burns.

"Are you fucking someone else?"

Your breath catches. Your pulse thunders in your ears.

And then—

You laugh.

Sharp. Bitter. Furious.

You gesture at yourself—the dirt, the bruises, the blood still crusted on your sleeve.

“Look at me, Caleb.”

He doesn’t move.

“Does this look like a woman having an affair?”

His fingers twitch against the chair. His voice drops to a whisper.

"I’m on the edge of it."

Your chest tightens.

“I don’t doubt that, you psychopath.” You shove against his arm, but he doesn’t budge. “Now let me up so I can strangle you.”

His fingers loosen.

And then—

"Six days."

Your breath hitches. His hand moves. Curls around your jaw, firm but careful.

"Six days. Eight thousand six hundred forty minutes."

His thumb brushes over your cheekbone.

"I couldn't breathe without pain."

Your throat tightens. Your rage collapses into something else entirely.

“Caleb—”

"I searched. I traced every lead. I turned this country inside out."

His voice wavers.

And then—softer, rawer, almost desperate—

"If you hadn’t come back, I would have burned everything to the ground."

Your chest aches.

“…I had a mission. It was classified.”

His jaw twitches.

"Then tell me—" His voice turns sharp, edged with something almost pleading. "Tell me you weren’t running."

You exhale shakily.

“You’re so obsessed with losing me, Caleb—maybe that’s why you always do.”

Silence.

Something in his face breaks. He straightens. Turns away.

Leaves.

The door slams.

And you collapse to your knees. Your hands come up—cover your face—

And finally, finally, the tears fall.

But then—

A soft creak. A shift in the air. Warmth.

Arms wrapping around you, pulling you into a crushing embrace.

You freeze.

His voice is hoarse, quiet, trembling with something raw.

"You’re the only one who can destroy me without lifting a hand."

Your breath shudders. His grip tightens.

"One word from you," he murmurs, "and I’m gone."

You shake your head.

“Caleb…”

His forehead presses against your shoulder.

"I tried. Every day. Every second. I tried not to hold on too tight." He exhales shakily. "But I can’t."

Your heart clenches.

“Caleb, I always come back.”

He flinches.

You pull back just enough to cup his face. His eyes are stormy, desperate, flickering with pain.

"You have to trust me."

His lips part, but no sound comes out.

Then—barely above a whisper—

"I can't lose you."

Your fingers tighten against his jaw.

"You won’t."

Silence.

Then—

He kisses you.

It’s not gentle. It’s desperate. Devouring. Starved.

His hands tangle in your hair, holding you to him like he’ll die if you pull away.

A single tear escapes down his cheek. And you catch it with your lips.

“…I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Caleb, I’m so sorry.”

His breath shudders. He shakes his head. 

“No.” His voice breaks. "You don’t apologize to me." 

Your brows furrow. “Caleb—” 

He swallows. 

"If you’re better off without me—" 

Your hand flies up, slaps over his mouth. He freezes. Tears well in your eyes. 

“Don’t. Say. That.” His chest rises sharply. You lean in, press your forehead to his. 

“…You are my universe,” you whisper. 

His hands shake against your back. 

“No matter what we do, no matter what happens—” You press your lips to his, slow, deep, endless. “I will always come back to you.” 

His breath shudders against your lips.

And then—his voice drops, quiet but unshakable. 

"You will never disappear on me again without warning. Not now. Not ever."

🗡✨🌥 Xavier 

The door clicks shut behind you.

You barely take a step inside before a voice cuts through the air—

Calm. Measured. Unshakable.

"Ah." A quiet exhale. "Look who finally remembered they have a home."

You freeze.

Xavier is already there.

Sitting in the living room, one leg crossed over the other, a book balanced in his hand—like your sudden reappearance was nothing more than an interesting plot twist.

He doesn’t look up immediately. He finishes the sentence he’s reading first.

Then—calmly, unhurriedly—he turns the page.

And finally—his gaze lifts to yours.

Cold. Slow. Too calculating.

"Six days."

Your stomach tightens. "Xav—"

"Mm. No." He holds up a single finger.

The room falls silent. And somehow, that’s worse.

You watch as he closes the book. Carefully. Precisely. Then—without breaking eye contact—he sets it aside.

And then—a small smile.

Soft. Almost friendly.

Which means you’re in deep, deep trouble.

"You look tired," he murmurs, tilting his head. "Traveling, were you?"

You exhale. "Xavier—"

"Oh, no. Let me guess." His fingers tap idly against the armrest. "You were simply busy."

A pause.

"Too busy, in fact, to answer a single message."

Your jaw tightens. "It wasn’t—"

"Ah," he interrupts softly, as if realizing something.

His eyes flick over your torn sleeve, the faint bruises on your arms. Then, slowly—he smiles.

"Or," he murmurs, "did you lose your phone again?"

Your stomach drops. Because he knows.

You inhale sharply. "Xav—"

He shakes his head.

"No, it’s alright. I understand." He leans forward slightly, resting his chin against his knuckles. "I’m sure you had an excellent reason."

A beat of silence. Then—mild amusement, carefully laced with steel:

"Would you like to tell me what it was?"

You hesitate.

Because you were on a mission. A classified one.

Because he wasn’t supposed to know. Because you work together.

And yet—he knew nothing.

You try anyway.

"I had a—"

"A mission?" His brow lifts, a polite flicker of curiosity. "Fascinating."

His tone is smooth, unbothered. And that—that is when you know how angry he really is.

He gestures vaguely toward the stacks of reports on the table.

"Tell me, darling, which mission was it?"

You swallow hard. "I can’t—"

"Mm. Right. Classified."

Another small nod. A slow, deliberate blink.

"As are all major operations within the Association."

His fingers drum lightly against the armrest.

"And yet, strangely—" He tilts his head. "Not a single record of your assignment exists."

You say nothing.

Xavier exhales through his nose—almost disappointed.

"And here I thought," he murmurs, "we were supposed to trust each other."

You flinch.

His gaze softens. Not with kindness. But with something far worse.

Pity.

"You must have had your reasons, of course," he muses.

A small sigh, like he’s humoring a child.

"I imagine you thought it was necessary. Sensible, even."

His fingers lace together.

"Just as I found it necessary to send out a search party on day three."

Your breath catches.

"You what?"

He hums.

"By day four, I expanded my resources. You'd be surprised how quickly information spreads when you know where to look."

Your hands clench.

"Xavier—"

"Day five, I began considering alternative outcomes. Some of them, admittedly, rather unpleasant."

A flicker of something colder in his expression.

"Ever been forced to sit in a room full of people trying to convince you that your partner is dead?"

Your stomach turns.

"Xavier, I wasn’t—"

He clicks his tongue.

"Day six, I received word that you had finally resurfaced."

He leans back. Folds his arms. And then—a soft chuckle, utterly humorless.

"Imagine my relief."

Silence.

You exhale sharply. "Xav, I—"

"Did you know," he interrupts, voice light, conversational, detached, "that people tend to avoid looking a grieving man in the eye?"

Your throat tightens.

"Not that I was grieving, of course." He taps a finger against his chin. "I don’t make a habit of mourning people until I see a body."

He tilts his head slightly, studying you.

"But I imagine it must have been quite the inconvenience, being dead for six days."

Your chest tightens.

"You think I wanted to—"

"Oh, I know," he murmurs. "You didn’t want to disappear."

His voice lowers.

"But you still did."

And for the first time—he is no longer smirking. His blue eyes bore into yours, steady, sharp.

"You made a decision that left me in the dark."

A long, slow breath.

"And I need to know," he says softly, "if you would do it again."

Silence.

You don’t have an answer. You don’t think there is one.

He exhales.

Finally, he leans back. Gazes at you for a moment longer.

Then, calmly—he stands. Smooth. Effortless. Precise. And then—he walks past you.

Your heart slams against your ribs.

"Xavier—"

He doesn’t stop. You push to your feet.

"Xavier, you’re coming back, right?"

Finally—he pauses. Turns his head, just slightly.

And then—

"Ask me again in six days."

The door closes behind him. And this time—you’re the one left behind.

🧜🏻‍♂️🧑🏻‍🎨🌊 Rafayel 

You are exhausted.

Every part of you aches. Your body demands sleep, warmth, peace.

Instead—

You come home to chaos.

Loud music. Laughter. The scent of wine, perfume, candle wax, and indulgence.

And then—the sight of him.

Rafayel.

Lounging near the pool, half-leaning against an ornate chair, a glass of red wine dangling lazily between his fingers.

His shirt is unbuttoned just enough to hint at toned muscle beneath, his sleeves rolled up, his perfectly tousled hair falling over his forehead in an effortlessly careless way.

And surrounding him—beautiful women.

Drinking, laughing, leaning toward him like he’s some fallen deity of temptation and excess.

Your stomach twists. A tight, burning rage coils in your chest.

And then—

He sees you. His eyes widen—just slightly. And then—a slow, almost lazy smirk.

"Ah." He lifts his glass dramatically, tone dripping with sarcasm. "Look who's finally returned!"

You tense.

He rises to his feet, arms spread as if welcoming royalty.

"My muse. My inspiration."

His voice carries over the music, over the murmurs of people starting to notice the tension.

"The very heart of my art!"

A sweeping gesture.

And then—

He motions toward the canvas-lined walls.

Your breath catches. Because they’re all of you. Dozens of paintings.

But—ruined.

Slashes through the canvas.

Paint smeared and splattered over your likeness like an artist in rage, in agony, in heartbreak.

The fury in you erupts. Your voice cuts through the music.

"What the actual fuck is this?!"

He gasps, mock scandalized.

"Oh, you don’t like them? What a tragedy!"

He downs the rest of his wine in one smooth gulp, tossing the glass aside with a careless flick of his wrist.

Then—he grins.

Crooked. Reckless. Infuriating.

"And here I was, drowning in sorrow, channeling my unbearable suffering into art."

A sigh.

"But alas." He shrugs dramatically. "Seems the muse herself has returned."

You march toward him. He tilts his head.

"Careful, cutie. You seem upset."

"You’re a fucking disaster."

He laughs.

"You’re six days late to that realization."

You grab his wrist, yanking him toward the exit.

“We’re talking. Now.”

His body moves, but his feet don’t follow. Instead—he pulls against your grip.

His smile widens.

"Oh?" His voice drips with amusement. "Dragging me away already? Jealous, cutie?"

Your jaw clenches.

"This is pathetic."

Another laugh, lighter this time.

"Ah, but it was all I had!" He places a hand over his heart. Theatrical. Overdramatic. Perfectly insufferable.

You snap.

And shove him into the pool.

He barely has time to react—water crashes around him, drenching his white shirt, dragging him under.

And for a brief, glorious second—silence.

Until—

His hand grabs your wrist. You yelp, but it’s too late.

He pulls you down with him.

Cold water engulfs you, shocking your senses.

When you resurface, gasping, furious, he’s already brushing his hair back, blinking at you through wet lashes.

And suddenly—

The playfulness is gone. The crowd has vanished. Thomas made sure of it.

And now—it’s just you and him.

And for the first time tonight—he’s quiet. His voice is lower, slower.

"You storm into my house. Onto my estate. Into my party. And then..."

He gestures lazily toward the water.

"You throw me in my own fucking pool?"

You pant, teeth gritted. “Your—house? Great! I’ll leave you in your fucking house—”

You turn to climb out—

And he grabs you again. A firm grip. Unshaking.

His eyes—darker now. Sharper. Focused.

"Make another move, cutie." His voice is dangerously low.

"And we’ll have problems."

You glare. "Let. Go."

He doesn’t. Instead—he pulls you closer.

“You’re not walking away from this.”

Your pulse spikes.

"Rafayel—"

"Do it," he whispers. "Say it to my face."

Your breath catches.

"You want to leave?" His hand slides to your waist, pulling you closer, forcing you to feel the heat radiating from his soaked body.

"Then say it."

Your hands shake. You flick water into his face, desperate to break the tension.

He doesn’t even blink. Instead—his eyes drop.

To your clothes.

Soaked. Clinging. Revealing everything.

His pupils darken. And then—his jaw tightens.

"You left me for six days," he murmurs.

Your breath stutters.

"I left for work, not you, you hysterical maniac."

He tilts his head.

"That’s the same thing. And your phone?"

"A Wanderer shattered it!"

He lets out a sharp, bitter laugh.

"Ah, yes. And I suppose you were also too busy fighting for your life to send me one. Single. Fucking. Message?"

You exhale sharply. "Raf, you’re insufferable. A party? Seriously?"

"How else am I supposed to handle soul-crushing heartbreak?"

His voice drops.

"Tell me, cutie." His fingers skim your waist, trailing fire in their wake. "How else was I supposed to drown my suffering?"

He leans in, breath hot against your lips.

And then—

He kisses you. Desperate. Possessive.

Your legs wrap around his waist, instinct taking over.

His grip tightens.

"You threw me in a pool," he whispers against your lips.

"You deserved it."

His fingers dig into your hips.

"You waltz in after six days and just—throw me?"

"Maybe I should throw you again."

He grins against your skin.

"I should make you pay for that."

"Raf—"

"Mm. Shh."

His hands travel lower, pressing you harder against him.

Your breathing turns shallow.

"Your paintings," you murmur.

"I’ll paint more."

"You hated me for six days."

"Endlessly." He kisses your throat, voice dropping further.

"You didn’t want to see me again?"

He grins against your collarbone.

"Try leaving me again, cutie."

His grip tightens, unshakable.

His breath is hot against your ear.

"And I promise—"

His hips press forward, slow and deliberate, sending a sharp jolt of heat through you.

"You won’t be able to walk for a week."

[whorelaud]

OFF LIMITS – rafe cameron ¡ (01)

social media & irl AU !

pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch warnings none !

NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 01 ¡ 02

“Wake up, we’re here.” Ryan nudged your side, observing as your parents unloaded the trunk, arguing over the amount of luggage each one of you brought. “Get up, Bug, mom is gettin’ mad.” 

Ryan gave you a harsh push, disturbing your slumber as you jolted up from your seat. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes, eyeing your surroundings with haze, a mere attempt to make sense of the new setting that encircled the Airbnb your parents ranted. 

It was a beautiful view, the sight of the beach not too far away, ocean breeze heading in your direction. Ryan’s figure instantly filled your vision, earning a low grumble out of you. You tucked your hair out of your face, stretching out your arms over your head.

“You slept through the whole ride.” Your brother scoffed, gathering the crumbled candy wrappers from the cup holder. “Help mom! She’s really mad, why’d you bring so many luggages?” 

“Don’t piss me off,” you mumbled, kicking his knee, the gesture causing the latter to stumble back. “Move.” 

You shuffled out of your seat, hopping out of the car. The place was surprisingly big– not for a family of four, that’s for sure. An unfamiliar car was parked in the driveway, the sight earning a puzzled expression out of you. 

“Is someone else here?” You questioned, attention shifting to Ryan, who was busy tidying your side of the vehicle. “Who’s that car for?” 

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Ryan shot back, furrowing his eyebrows with confusion. “What, you thought we’d be here on our own?” 

“Wasn’t that what we had in plans?” You mumbled, strolling towards the creaked door. You peaked your head inside, an audible gasp escaping your throat when you spotted your parents chatting with a middle aged couple, whom you would assume were the guests staying with you. Their identities remain a mystery as they were faced away, unable to recognize them with only the back of their heads. You turned to face Ryan, whispering your next sentence. “There’s people inside.” 

“Yeah, no shit.” He rolled his eyes, shutting the door to the car. He approached you, squeezing by as he let himself inside. “You think I’m spending the next two months stuck with only you? Hell no.” 

“God, we should’ve let you rot on campus.” You groaned, following behind him. You remained as quiet as physically possible, not wanting to capture the elders’ attention, aware of the conversation they planned on dragging you to. 

While walking up the stairs, you winced, as the suitcase you carried collided into the wood on your way up, creating a thud. Your gaze shifted to where your parents stood, a sigh of relief escaping your throat when you noticed they were still accompanied by the couple to their side. 

You carefully settled your suitcase down, dragging it along as you observed each room, deciding which one would suit you best. You came to a halt once one caught your eye, growing intrigued as you opened the door all the way through, revealing the layout of the furnitured space. 

“Pretty.” You whispered to yourself, tracing the designed light switch with your fingers. 

“Not bad,” Ryan replied, his presence startling you. “Good choice, this room is actually mine.” 

“I was here first!” Your face twisted with annoyance, watching as your brother leaned against the wall, now facing you. “It’s my room, not yours.”

“Oh, we’re going there?” He warned, cocking his head to the side. “I’ll tell dad about the time you sneaked out every day for an entire month, and made me cover for you whenever you got in trouble.”

“That was four years ago,” you reasoned, huffing at his ridiculous threat. “Besides, you’ve done worse. Remember all the marijuana you hid in my room? Or did we forget about that?” 

“Okay– that was–” Ryan stammered, slumping his shoulders as he rolled his eyes. “I’ll kill you if you tell anyone about that.”

“Whatever, get out of my room.” You shoved his arm, the contact earning a dramatic gasp out of him. “Go complain somewhere else, I’m not giving you this room.”

“C’mon, Bug!” He whined, resisting the hands pressing to his back, forcing him out of the room. “There’s better rooms, why do you want this one specifically?!”  

“Probably for the same reason you do.” You exclaimed, sighing once you gave Ryan one last push, the action causing him to stumble out into the narrow hallway. “And stop calling me that, I’ll kill you if you refer to me as Bug in front of everybody.” 

“Everyone calls you Bug.” He clicked his teeth, fixing the collar of his shirt. “I forget that your name isn’t Bug sometimes, you know, jus’ used to it.” 

“Are you trying to distract me right now? ‘Cause it’s not working.” You forced a tight-lipped smile across your face, earning a groan out of Ryan. “Busy yourself with something else, I don’t have time to pamper you.” 

“‘Kay, fuck you then.” He spat out, flipping you off as he walked away. 

You shut the door with a chuckle, taunted by your brother’s lash out. You placed your luggage on the bed, growing confused when you noticed the bed was slightly undone, indicating someone clearly had been there. You brushed it off, thinking it was Ryan’s doing, as you were too exhausted to further process it. 

You searched through your suitcase, acquiring your everything-shower bag. You set it to the side, retrieving a clothing set, one suitable to be seen in, and comfortable enough to get you through the night. 

Once you had everything you needed, you grabbed your belongings, freezing when footsteps echoed through your ears. You were painfully aware that this was not Ryan, as you would’ve heard him come in with the click of the door. 

You aimed for your bag, equipping yourself for the hit you planned to swing, now that you sensed your life being at risk. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you had coming as you swiftly turned around, a ragged breath escaping your parted lips at the sight of a certain someone. 

Mere inches away from you stood Rafe, the Rafe Cameron whom you have messaged a few hours from now. You couldn’t believe your eyes, instantly brushing this off as a dream, because there’s no way in hell he was there, half naked, with only a towel hanging low around his hips. A blank expression remained plastered across his face, not too astonished by your presence.

A nervous gulp dried your throat, gaze following the water drop trailing down his exposed chest, on full display, revealing his muscular figure. God, his arms, the photos weren’t doing him justice, because besides his toned body, the man was gorgeous. 

His eyes were a radiant shade of blue, nose slightly pointy, as well as his pink lips, that you wouldn’t describe as big, but just the right size, as you wanted nothing but to lean forward and kiss him, ceasing the unnecessary distance between you. 

You shook the thoughts off, clutching into stuff that you had in hand, instantly growing nervous by the latter as he took a step forward, now towering over you, making you feel small under under his gaze. You glanced up at him, shifting your vision back to his chest when you caught him already staring at you. 

Rafe broke into a grin, amused by how flustered you were, nothing compared to how brave you were over text. He remained in front of you for a moment, awaiting a response out of you, a question perhaps. 

“I…” ah, there it was. “I didn’t know you were in here.” 

“That’s okay,” he reassured, voice dripping with sweetness, that the moment he spoke, you found yourself melting in the spot. “Look at me.” 

Your face flushed with heat at the statement, shifting your gaze back to his face, breath knocking out of your chest when his eyes locked with yours, creating a mess out of you. He leveled himself with your body, adjusting his position where he stood now that he caught your attention. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he hushed out, grogginess visible through his tone. “Bug, was it?” 

Yeah, had you known Rafe Cameron was spending the next two months with you, you would not have shown up, aware of the consequences that came with your feelings. 

How were you supposed to set a limit for yourself when he’s there, existing and looking so attractive while doing it?

a/n prepapre to be sick of me theyre my new obsession!! also i PROMISE i have something planned for the whole bug nickname pls give it a chance ehebhe ei hope you enjoyed wheww im so nervous to publish this

TAGLIST @greyswaren @slut-4-gojo @depthsofdespairr @littlelamy @lilithblackkk @starkeydolly @mattyskies @percysley @aariahnaa @jaklvbub @inlovewithdob @ilovefiction4lmen @theeternaloptimistt @maybejj @icaqttt @idgasb

lmk if u wanna be added >__< !!

[gutsby]

State of Play

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: You and Joel can’t keep things quiet.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Katoptronophilia (!) Loud and obnoxious I-Love-You-and-I-Missed-You Sex. C*m eating. Age gap. One (1) Almost-BJ. I think that’s it.

Note: For those unfamiliar with That Folgers Commercial

Word count: 8.2k

Airplane food tasted like shit.

Some prick in a business suit spilled his coffee all over you, your luggage had nearly been lost in transit between connecting flights, and someone’s unsupervised child had tried to bite your ankle while waiting at the gate.

The weather was bad, and all of the flight crew and your boarding group were pissed—your second trip was delayed by two hours due to inclement conditions. Snow had pelted the floor-to-ceiling windows without reprieve for what felt like years, and finally, the folks in air traffic control seemed to have just thrown up their hands and said, ‘Fuck it, let them go.’ You boarded the plane freezing your ass off and stained all down the front of your t-shirt in espresso. Your Achilles tendon ached.

And still, this felt like the greatest day of your life.

You were going home. And not just home but to Joel, who was picking you up from the airport that day. You hadn’t had any exams at the end of the week, so you’d decided to come home a half-day early and surprise him. With all of the delays, you wouldn’t be in until early that morning, but Joel was still happy to pick you up. You wouldn’t tell your dad you were back until the following evening, and in the meantime, you’d savor every second you had with Joel until you had to leave again. You didn’t want to be apart from him, but at least the separation this time around was sweeter: he was your boyfriend.

Just thinking those words made you smile.

Even sat next to a screaming baby the whole four-hour plane ride from Baltimore to Austin, you were happy.

Damn near cheerful skipping off the aircraft five hours after your original ETA, and heading to the baggage claim in a sea of pushy, disgruntled passengers.

You took the stairs instead of the escalator. You didn’t mind the extra effort with your far-too-heavy carry-on; you just wanted to take the fastest route to get to the place you’d be meeting Joel. Your sneakers sounded their light, quick thuds down the marble steps as you went, and you slung the strap of your duffel bag higher up your shoulder to get a better hold while you jogged.

You looked around, eager as ever.

Was that a pit of anxiety you felt?

Around Joel, that was never really a thing—but anticipating his presence after weeks spent apart was a whole different beast. Now your pulse pounded in your ears; your throat constricted a little bit. Where was he?

From: Joel

Just parked

Headed in now

That had been twenty minutes ago.

I’ll be over by the stairs

Except he wasn’t there.

You were at the foot of the stairs, peering anxiously around as you were jostled further out by the moving crowd, but the longer you looked, the more certain you became that Joel wasn’t there. In fact, there was no one that looked even remotely like him. It was mostly families and young people that appeared to be around your age—evidently, all colleges started break at the same time—that were standing around. You stood on your tip-toes to get a peek overtop these people, and you still couldn’t spot one single silver-flecked head that looked like his.

You pulled out your phone to text him.

From: You

Sooooo did someone kidnap you or—

You didn’t get to finish that message.

Before you could hit ‘send,’ you felt two arms wrap around you from behind. You dropped your bag.

The same grin crept onto your face—you couldn’t help it.

“Excuse me, I’m actually waiting for my boyfriend…”

You pretended to tense with discomfort at the feel of someone’s body draped over your own, and then there were lips grazing your hair, stubble teasing your cheek.

“Oh, yeah? Then where is he?”

Joel turned you to face him.

Well, shit, there he is.

Both of you were beaming. Joel looked handsome but sleepy—and who could blame him at 5:21 AM, when he’d likely been at work since six the day before? You were the one to open your arms then. You lunged just in time for him to accept your embrace, and you didn’t miss the way he stumbled a bit. He also turned his face so your lips landed on his cheek, not his mouth. He blinked rapidly.

Perhaps you’d come on a little strong.

Easy now, he’s probably tired as shit.

“Sorry. Just missed you,” you mumbled into Joel’s neck.

He squeezed you tighter. He shook you back and forth.

His lips pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head.

‘Don’t be sorry. I missed you more’ was all he said.

And before you knew it, you were headed home again. Rather than retreating to the house you’d grown up in, though, you went over to Joel’s cozy, ranch-style place. From all the time you’d spent there lately, and even in the years before, you knew it well. Joel kept it clean. Simple.

Cold as shit.

“52 degrees?! Have you lost your fucking mind, Miller?”

You’d pulled your parka fast about yourself as soon as you stepped in. You exhaled and saw it hang mid-air.

“It ain’t that bad. We got blankets,” Joel huffed.

He hadn’t talked much on the ride home from the airport. You didn’t blame him. You could see in his eyes and in the way he’d fixed his stare on the road all the way home that the man was exhausted. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. You decided not to push him on it.

But sleeping in an igloo was where you drew the line.

You spun on your heel to face him, brows pinched.

“My nipples could cut diamonds right now.”

And you peeled back your jacket to show him, where you only wore your tight, coffee-stained tee underneath. Sure enough, two small, hardened peaks poked out through the fabric to greet Joel in the chill of his living room.

To your surprise, Joel swallowed and looked away.

He left the room shortly after that—ostensibly, to adjust the thermostat. But it was the expression he wore as he did that gave you pause. The look on his face was hard.

Guilty.

What the hell had happened in the thirty minutes since you’d gotten here to make him take on that expression?

Was it the way you smelled after six or seven hours of combined air travel, not including all the excruciating minutes spent languishing in the Boston and Baltimore airports? That stupid story you’d told him about the flight attendant whose breath smelled of rotten pimento cheese? Or was it because you’d jumped him too fast—opted for a kiss on the mouth instead of simply hugging him and attempting to curb your enthusiasm a little bit?

Your mind whirred a thousand miles a minute with this thinking—overthinking, really. You couldn’t help doing it.

In spite of the near-dizzying excitement you’d felt coming home, it was easy to slip back into old habits. Worry, uncertainty, fear of feeling more for a person than they did for you and getting too invested, it was all there. It was astounding how quickly the dread crept in. Shit.

“Shit,” you repeated aloud, kicking off your shoes.

You were standing in Joel’s room, preparing for bed. The heat had evidently kicked on, but the space was still freezing, so you peeled your clothes slowly. You set them aside, one-by-one, and folded them atop Joel’s dresser while your stomach churned. Your toes curled in your socks, and for a moment, you contemplated whether or not to wear your pyjamas to bed. Or Joel’s. Or naked.

Did he want to have sex tonight?

He’d looked so tired, and he hadn’t touched you once since setting you down from the hug at the airport, but—

“Hey.”

A folded, fuzzy blanket landed on the dresser next to you

It was pink. It had polka dots on it, not unlike the towel you had back at college and had seen Joel wrap himself in before you’d snuck him into your communal showers.

You smiled faintly at the memory.

You looked back up at Joel.

“I figured you’d get cold whenever you came over here, so I got this. Now you can bundle up. And wear these.”

Emphasizing the last word, Joel dropped a pair of matching slippers next to the blanket. They were new. He’d bought them for you, and had remembered enough to know you liked pink, frilly things. And not freezing your fucking ass off in the middle of winter. Your smile grew.

You thanked him, and were about to turn to give him a hug, when he was off again. This time, to the bathroom.

You decided you’d dress in your own pajamas tonight. You grabbed your new blanket and slippers and then padded over to Joel’s bed at the other end of the room.

How long you waited there was anyone’s guess.

Changing out of his clothes, brushing his teeth, washing his hands or simply running the tap until the water all but ran out seemed to take Joel decades. You stayed curled on your side in his bed, rubbing your now-comfortably warmed feet under the covers and occasionally checking the time. You even scrolled for a little bit to distract your mind and keep it from worrying. He’s probably just tired.

And when, finally, he shut the bathroom door behind him and retired to bed, you could see it: Joel was exhausted.

You wanted to leave him be. Let him get some rest and pick things up in the morning, same as you always did.

Then Joel snaked a big, warm, muscly arm around your waist and pulled you into his chest. Against your back, you could feel it: he had on one of his long sleeve, waffle-knit shirts. You wriggled a little and shuffled your legs, and you shortly discovered he was wearing his thickest pair of pyjama pants as well. Joel almost always slept naked, or in only his boxers, so this was odd. Then again, it was dead of winter, so you couldn’t really blame him.

He pressed an innocent kiss to your temple before murmuring, ‘Night, sweet pea,’ and you couldn’t ignore what you felt, either. What you were feeling, presently, through the thick, cotton fabric of Joel’s pants was impossible to ignore—he was rock-hard against you. Joel shuffled back some, but still, the bulge was prominent.

Okay, well…maybe we don’t have to sleep just yet.

You weren’t entirely sure why you did what you did. You were pretty tired yourself. All you knew was that intimacy made you feel close to Joel—helped your brain process feelings better than speaking, sometimes—and right then, you felt needy. Lonely. With just a few gruff words and a strange look from him before, you’d grown self-conscious again, and you weren’t sure what to do with that emotion. You figured Joel’s dick in you might help.

So you turned around and climbed right on him.

You straddled Joel’s hips, a little more confident in how you maneuvered it now, after doing this dozens of times before. You and Joel enjoyed sleepy sex, whether it was first thing in the morning or right before bed, and usually, neither one of you had to talk to initiate. You simply clambered over the other person and got to work. It was a simple form of stress relief—a way to rid your brain of unwanted thoughts and get you right to sleep after doing the deed—and it didn’t take much to get either one of you off. You sighed when you felt Joel’s cock graze you through your light, satin pyjamas. You didn’t move too quickly, but you did bear down on him.

Joel’s eyes flew open.

He grabbed your hips, and he grunted through his teeth.

“Sweetheart—” he started, strained.

It encouraged you to feel him stiffen from that first motion of your lower half, so you did it again. You leaned down to kiss his neck, in just the spot he always liked, close to the jaw, and you rubbed yourself gently against his erection. His grip tightened on your hips, and the initial surprise seemed shortly to morph into desire.

Like always, Joel would probably flip you and offer to fuck in missionary. That was how you both liked to start.

You dragged your lips down the column of his neck and were about to bare your teeth to leave a quick love bite, maybe nip at the skin once or twice before moving your mouth lower on him, when Joel’s grip really constricted.

His fingers seared your skin.

A groan rumbled in his chest.

“Baby, please…” he croaked. He swallowed hard.

Was he trying to beg? That wouldn’t be a first, but you hadn’t expected it to happen so fast. His tone was low. His voice was soft, and his fingertips were kneading hard

“I know you’re tired, so I’ll get on top,” you offered, quiet.

With barely more than a whisper and a brush of your hand against the bulge in his pants, you earned another throaty sound from Joel. He cursed under his breath.

“This…I need to…fuck.”

Words seemed to evade him, and that wasn’t surprising. When you were turned on, you also forgot how to talk.

Joel always teased you for it, so now you’d do the same.

Moving lower down his body, and pushing the covers back as you went, you kept your gaze locked on his. The house had heated considerably since you’d gotten back, and now you didn’t feel like you had to wrap up in fifteen layers just to stay tolerably warm. You flashed the man a sly little grin, told him he needed to use his words if he wanted you to put your lips to use where he wanted them, and proceeded to stray even further. Your bottom lip grazed past his navel, and your tongue darted out to lick down the strip of grey and black hairs running down his lower belly where the bottom of his shirt had ridden up a little bit. As soon as you did, Joel inhaled sharply.

“Baby,” he hissed.

He seized your hair in his fist. Surprisingly, it felt nice.

It made you want to take him in your mouth even more.

So, hooking your fingers under the waistband of his pants, you didn’t waste any time. You yanked at the fabric, fully prepared to suck Joel off a little before climbing on and riding him, and just when his cock was about to spring free, you felt it—his grasp pulling back.

You heard him, hoarsely:

“Wait, wait, wait!”

Your chin jerked up. Probably no more than five seconds had passed since you’d slid down his body, and each act had transpired so swiftly, without a pause or a hitch from what you could tell, that for Joel to stop you so suddenly meant something was off. Something here was wrong.

“We can’t do this,” Joel blurted out at once.

You let go of his waistband. You tried to talk.

“What’s wro—”

“I— I need to tell you something. Now. I’m sorry.”

At the same time, Joel seemed to be asking you to get up. You didn’t hesitate to do exactly that, shuffling back.

Your stomach plummeted inside you as you feared you might’ve done something wrong, or crossed some line.

That, on top of everything else that night, and feeling like Joel might be having second thoughts about your relationship already, was enough to make your eyes sting. There weren’t tears, but that wasn’t far off.

How had you fucked this up so monumentally, so quick?

You chewed the inside of your lip. You blinked furiously.

“I-I-I’m sorry, Joel. I thought you wanted me to—”

“No, I’m sorry. We just can’t do this right now.”

His gaze was serious. Wide. Your heart sank.

You couldn’t help the words that followed.

“Did— did I just do something wrong?”

“No, baby, you didn’t do anythin—”

“You’re having second thoughts?”

Your pulse leapt and sped up.

“No, no, not at all. I’m jus—”

“Because you can tell me.”

“That’s not what I was—”

“If you want to break up—”

“What? That ain’t what I said.”

“So what is it? What’s going on?”

Your worst thoughts were winning.

You were jumping to conclusions again.

There wasn’t time to be rational or sedate.

“Joel Miller, if you’re gonna dump me right now—”

“Sweetheart, there’s a chance I might be your uncle.”

“What?!”

In fairness to you, his admission sounded fucking insane.

Joel could’ve handled this situation in a thousand different ways, and of course, he’d done it horribly.

The timing? Terrible. Treading close to atrocious.

The execution? Piss-poor. Actually, the worst.

You’d been a second away from wrapping your lips around his dick, and he chose that moment to tell you that you might possibly be his long-lost niece? Really?

The look on your face as you shuffled back didn’t surprise him at all. It did make Joel want to vomit a bit.

“Listen, I can explain…” he started, speaking slowly.

He lifted his hands in a conciliatory sort of gesture, then reached for you, but when you pushed back further in the bed, he dropped both. Your eyes went wide in horror.

“What do you mean you’re my fucking uncle, Joel?!”

His widened, too. You might’ve misheard him.

“No, no, I’m not. I’m probably not, I just—”

“Probably?! What is ‘probably’?!”

You’d all but screeched that.

You were standing from the bed. Looking down at it, as if to say, ‘What did I just do? What have we been doing?’ and your face gave way to a grimace. You winced like you’d just witnessed a car wreck firsthand, and again, Joel couldn’t blame you for that. He needed to fix this.

He’d meant to handle this himself. He’d called Tommy at least sixty times that night, when your dad had casually dropped the bomb that Tommy might have slept with his ex-wife and knocked her up over twenty years back, making him your biological father and Joel your uncle.

It was a stretch.

As far as Joel knew, Tommy had never been involved with your mom, much less around the time you’d been born. It was such a wild, far-fetched idea that he and your dad were almost positive that this wasn’t the case.

There was no way.

But if there was…

Joel hadn’t planned on taking any chances until he was certain. He also hadn’t wanted to cause any unneeded trauma by freaking you out and having you go into a panic, like you were right now. He’d intended to play it cool until he could get ahold of his baby brother—if he ever would pick up his fucking phone—and he’d meant to get the truth out of Tommy before doing anything else. Before you got home. Then you’d changed your flight to come back a half-day earlier, and even with all the delays you’d had, Joel still wasn’t able to get in touch with his brother before then. It was late. He’d been stuck between a rock and a hard place, debating whether to spill this big, terrible news that might turn out not to be news at all, while also revealing your dad’s secret that he might not be your father. It was a clusterfuck. It sucked.

Joel had only found this out hours ago, and already, it felt like the world as he and you knew it was going to shit

He wouldn’t—couldn’t—lay a finger on you until he was absolutely sure that you weren’t his niece. He hadn’t wanted to fuck up your psyche, as well as the heart of your relationship with your maybe-not-biological-father, by sharing this news. So he’d tried to compromise. Sleep side-by-side and pretend to be too tired to do anything, so he could buy more time before he spoke with Tommy. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Then you’d wrecked his plans by straddling his dick and proceeding to try and suck it, and Joel had been left with no choice.

He blurted it out before he could try and stop himself.

“Tommy might’ve— might’ve fucked your mom.”

It was graceless. Just like everything else.

Your eyes went even wider.

“What?” you breathed.

He kept going.

“There’s…your dad was tellin’ me, there’s a slight chance your mom and Tommy were messin’ around back in the day, about a year before you were born, and…and he isn’t completely sure—there were a few other guys, but he doesn’t know—and he told me. He told me this tonight, when we went out for drinks. And then you came back earlier than I was expecting, and…well, I’ve been tryin’ to get ahold of Tommy, but he ain’t pickin’ up. I wanted—”

“Get your keys,” you cut in suddenly.

Now it was his turn to be confused.

“Wait, what?”

Joel stared, and he saw you were already on your phone. Toggling something on the screen. Frowning down at it.

“Where are we—” Joel tried again.

You snapped your fingers, like you’d found something. Then you looked up at him, briefly, before striding out the bedroom door. You walked quickly; Joel followed.

He wasn’t sure where you were going or what you planned on doing, but he opted to dress while he walked. He threw on his jacket and kicked on his boots, then went fishing for his keys—they were lying in a hodgepodge of shit on the counter, as always—and just as he reached out to grab them, you seized them first.

You were already headed for the car port. You didn’t look behind you, and wouldn’t so much as turn your head when he called out after you. You marched to his car.

“Where are we goin’? You gonna talk to me, honey?”

Joel tried sounding soft. You weren’t having it.

You jumped in and barely gave him the chance to get his seatbelt fastened before you threw the thing in reverse.

You were backing the Bronco out in a blink. Your grip tightened on the wheel, and that was when he saw it.

First, a frown.

Then, your gaze cutting over to his across the center console. It was brief, but a look did more than enough.

“I have Tommy’s location. We’re gonna go beat his ass.”

Life was great for Tommy Miller.

Like, really great.

He had a lady he was half-certain was the love of his life sprawled out in his bed, the sheets they got to share were warm, and the world outside was quiet. At 6 AM, out in the sticks as they were, it usually stayed like this.

Cool. Calm. Serene.

He should buy a house of his own out here one day.

The place they were staying at used to be his granddad’s. Joel had already done a bang up job at fixing it himself, and Tommy wanted to help. He also knew it would make a nice retreat for him and Maria whenever they wanted to get out of the city themselves. She liked it here, which meant that Tommy loved it. He loved her.

Stupid as it sounded, he was now beginning to understand some of Joel’s fixation with you.

If his brother felt even a fraction of what he felt for Maria, Tommy could easily see why Joel would risk his whole friendship with your father to be with you. He got it.

What he couldn’t totally comprehend was why you two wouldn’t come clean already. All this lying and sneaking around behind your daddy’s back must have been awful for you both. It would suck telling him at first, to be sure, but your father wasn’t that intolerant that he couldn’t be convinced to warm up to the idea eventually. You’d be graduating in a few months—you could come back here, not have to treat each other like some big, ugly secret, and then live like he and Maria did, every day. That was what Tommy had wanted for his big brother, anyway.

These thoughts and at least a dozen more were all swirling through his mind after the break of dawn that day, when he was half-asleep and barely more conscious than not. He stretched out in bed, smiling to himself.

He was about to turn and drape an arm over Maria’s side when a sound at the front door stopped him. It was loud.

Someone was knocking.

Banging.

Striking their fist on the wood so hard it sounded like they might’ve been apt to knock the whole thing down.

For a moment, Tommy considered grabbing his pistol. Then he shrugged off the thought, not wanting to freak Maria out by brandishing a firearm at this hour, and instead bounded quickly to the door to see what the fuck this person wanted before their knocking woke her up.

He swung the front door open, nostrils flared.

And there you were, looking just as enraged.

“You motherfucker!” you hissed at him.

Before he could stop you, you were storming inside. He could see Joel behind you, looking almost as overcome as he was, but he didn’t have time to talk to his brother.

Tommy didn’t have time to breathe, as you knocked the wind out of him by pushing past him, your steps forceful.

Your eyes were wide with indignation and ire.

Disbelief and…something like disgust?

“Did you fuck my mom?!” you spat.

What the— what? What?

When he was too stunned to speak—from both drowsiness and the initial shock—you stepped in again. You didn’t touch him, but you got in his face. Very close.

“Answer the fucking question, Miller. Did you?!”

“Sweetheart—” Joel started behind you.

Tommy could hear that his voice was tight. Their eyes flitted up to meet each other, briefly, and at the same time, the door to the bedroom opened. Well, great.

“Did you fuck my mother or not, Tommy?!”

Perfect timing. Tommy swallowed hard.

For some reason, his brain wasn’t functioning at full capacity, and it took him a moment to get his bearings. Evidently, you interpreted this pause as an admission, or something, because your face morphed into one of pure horror, and one of your hands rose to cover your mouth.

“Oh god, you did!” you shrieked. Words high and shrill. “You fucked her, then let me have sex with my uncle!”

Oh, fuck.

What the fuck?

What the everliving fuck?

At last, he found words: “No! No, I never—”

Tommy couldn’t imagine what Maria must be thinking.

You turned on your heel, and, hand still hovering over your mouth, you turned to Joel. You looked like you were about to be sick, as did he. Your breaths shortly faltered.

“We are so fucked!” you said to him. In shock.

Joel seemed as if he wanted to comfort you, but in truth, the man looked just as queasy, and you appeared to be in no state to want to be touched. You spun back around.

Somehow, Tommy was able to conjure up more words. Whether they’d actually make sense was anyone’s guess.

“I— I never had sex with your mom, kid. Never,” he said.

Decent enough.

But you didn’t believe him.

“My dad said you did,” you bit back. “He said that you and—and some other guys were hooking up with my mom right around the time she got pregnant with me, and he thinks you might be my dad, which would be insanely, insanely bad, since I’ve been fucking your brother for the last three months, and you knew that!”

Each word hit with all the force of an eighteen-wheeler.

Again, Tommy was too stunned to talk for a moment.

“Just…just come clean if you did. We need to know.”

That was Joel. His face was screwed up in a wince, like he didn’t really want to know any of this, but it was necessary. He needed to know if his brother was truly stupid enough to have sex with a woman and not mention the fact that her daughter might be Joel’s niece.

Tommy stared back, blinking, before recovering again.

This time, he knew he had to keep his shit together.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maria.

Keep. Your. Fucking. Shit. Together.

“I never…in my life, ever slept with Amy, Joel. I swear,” he said, slowly. Then, turning to you. “I was—what, like…twenty-two when you were born? I didn’t even lose my virginity ‘til I was twenty-four. I never had sex with her.”

“But her dad said—” Joel started.

“Her dad thought I was a slut back then, I know. I wasn’t, but I liked pretending I was. It was easier to act like that than tell the guys I was a virgin, alright? It was stupid.”

He felt stupid.

Even more so in front of Maria, who now not only had to hear this whole insane incest debate but also learned he hadn’t gotten laid until his mid-twenties. It shouldn’t matter—it didn’t matter, and he didn’t regret his choice in the slightest—but still, he felt a pang in his chest.

And more to the point, why the hell would your dad even insinuate that he might’ve slept with Amy? He knew damn well they’d never gotten together. They were friends, sure, but that’s all they ever were, or appeared.

None of it made any sense.

Clearly, the news was still settling in between you, Joel, Maria, and even himself. Silence stretched on for some seconds, and Tommy released a sigh to himself. His heart rate gradually slowed, and he looked to Maria.

And where he’d expected to find her distraught, if not disgusted or a little humiliated on his behalf, he saw a smile. It was faint, but it was there. From the opposite side of the living room, in the dim glow of the morning sun’s first rays, he could see it. She was smiling at him.

Your family’s kind of insane.

I still love you, by the way.

Maria didn’t need to speak to him in words, but he felt it. He couldn’t help but grin weakly back at her, wanting to walk over to her and give her a big, bear hug in apology.

Unfortunately, Tommy didn’t get that chance, as you jumped him in the next instant with a hug of your own.

You squeezed tight and exhaled shakily into his chest.

“Shit. Tommy, I am so sorry. I’m sorry,” you said.

His grin stretched bigger in spite of himself.

In spite of this whole ridiculous, messy situation, he smiled and hugged you back. You were like a little sister to him, thankfully not a daughter, and Tommy forgave folks easily. Over the top of your head, he glanced at his girlfriend again, and he mouthed a soft apology himself.

I’m so sorry, Maria.

Also, I love you more.

“It’s all good, kid.” Out of habit, and feeling the same protective instinct he’d always felt for you, he kissed the crown of your head. He rubbed your back as you hugged. “If I thought somebody was dumb enough not to tell me I might be fuckin’ my uncle, I’d also try to kick their ass.”

You laughed. You shook your head a little against him.

“You’re too big. I could never actually do it,” you said.

“I might,” Joel rejoined from someplace behind you.

That threat had no teeth. His brother was simply heaving a sigh of relief as he plopped down on the couch, likely thinking to himself that he was so fucking glad this conversation hadn’t steered where he feared it might. Briefly, Tommy caught his gaze, then squeezed you in his arms a little bit tighter. He angled your bodies to Joel.

“Even if he ain’t your uncle, are you sure you wanna be stuck with this loser, honey? He’s an ass, as you can see.”

He was talking to you, but his focus was on Joel. Smug.

The man on the sofa just rolled his eyes. He reached out to snag the waistband of your shorts and tug you back, while Tommy kept that wry, knowing smirk on his lips.

He let go, and you gladly dropped over into Joel’s lap.

“Too late. We’re dating,” his brother hummed back.

Dating?

Well, shit.

Tommy stared harder, only this time his look was one of surprise—and muted satisfaction. He glanced at Maria, who was yawning and preparing to draw back into the bedroom, it looked like. Then he remembered how early it was. His brother looked just as drained laying out on the couch, and if he’d had to guess, you and Joel would be retiring to the guest bedroom to crash at any minute.

He would have to keep this quick.

“Goin’ steady, huh?” he pressed.

“Don’t start.” Joel raised a hand, yawning himself.

You were all too tired for this shit. Tommy couldn’t resist. Like the bonehead little brother he was, he had to say it. He’d been waiting too long to see Joel in a relationship.

He was already retreating to the bedroom, to Maria, and he didn’t intend on dragging this out, but the opportunity was also too tempting to ignore.

“And y’all didn’t ask for my permission?” he called over his shoulder. Taunting. “A father has a right to know!”

Joel lifted one big, callused middle finger from the sofa. You smiled and waved and gave your best impression of a person much sweeter than you normally were, saying:

“Sorry, Dad, Uncle Joel’s dick was too good to resist!”

Eeeeeewwwwwww.

Tommy made a face as he left.

“I’m going back to bed. Y’all are sick.”

And on some level, he meant it. He was also grinning ear-to-ear as he shut the bedroom door behind him and turned to Maria, who was sliding under the covers.

“Your life is a Folgers commercial,” she chuckled.

“Pretty much,” he murmured as he joined her.

Then, without thinking twice about it, he reached for one of the pillows that had fallen off the bed. He nudged it over his girlfriend’s way, as if offering for her to take it, and when Maria cocked a brow, Tommy pointed to the door. He could already hear you and Joel going upstairs.

“You’ll need this. Use it to cover your ears,” he said.

“What? Why?”

“Because if I know anything about those two, they’re about to have some of the most disgustingly loud sex.”

You and Joel were having the most disgustingly loud sex.

It always was, though, wasn’t it?

The concern wasn’t one that often crossed your mind when getting drilled from behind by Joel Miller, but today, with his brother—who was not your biological father—and his girlfriend in the room directly below the one where you and Joel were fucking, you did consider it.

Were you being too noisy? Could they hear you now?

Was Joel pounding too hard, and should you have maybe put a pillow between the metal bed frame and the wall?

There was no time to fix the latter. You were in too deep. Joel was in too deep himself, digging through your guts with every quick, merciless thrust of his hips against you. His grip tightened on your waist, and he pushed down. He wanted your upper half damn near parallel with the bed, while your ass was up and pointed just where he could fuck your wet and needy cunt. He drove in hard.

Every push of his cock through your body, sawing back and forth, again and again with increasing vigor, could’ve supplied noise enough to wake the whole neighborhood. The dizzying squelch, the persistent, wet smack of his groin against your ass, the tiny strings of your shared arousal and sweat stretching far and then colliding all over again with each new thrust, all blew your cover.

If you’d had any desire to keep your sex noises private, your body and his were doing a terrible fucking job of it.

You might as well have painted it on a billboard by now:

‘WE REALLY, REALLY LOVE FUCKING!’

‘WE’RE NOT RELATED, BY THE WAY!!’

Perhaps that was why Joel was so earnest now—having just found out that this had all been a false alarm and you could fuck as much as desired, well…it did things to him.

It did things to you, too.

It made it hard to keep quiet or even try to curb the frenzy when Joel sheathed himself fully inside, held it, then leaned over your prone body to press his hand to the back of your head. He tilted your chin toward him as best he could in this position. He dug even deeper, and you felt him in your fucking lungs. You let out a whimper

“Joel—”

“Look at me, darlin’,” Joel said, gruff. “You’re close, hm?”

You were.

You nodded your head against his firm hold.

Your eyes tried meeting his from where your face was pressed against the mattress and Joel was hovering directly above, but the effort was fruitless. Your gaze couldn’t stay on his like he’d wanted. Joel grunted.

He pulled you up. He tugged you back into a semi-kneeling position, so that your back was flush with his chest and your bodies still connected. His lips pressed a quick, calming kiss to your neck before he moved again.

Before you knew it, you were off the bed and standing—more a function of Joel holding you up than any strength in your legs. You were propped against a pretty wooden dresser with a mirror attached to the back. In your shared reflection, you met Joel’s gaze, and he grinned at you. He wasted no time pushing back inside and watching your face contort with the pressure and the stretch of his girth. Your jaw went slack; you clenched around him.

And you could feel in the responding groan from Joel that he was just as close. You’d been at it for less than five minutes, but the ardor and the relief and the fact that it had been weeks since you’d gotten to do this together was enough to send you both spiraling fast. Joel reached for your hip in one hand and held your throat in the other. He went on at a relentless pace.

With every snap of his hips, your knees hit the dresser drawers. It didn’t hurt. Joel angled your body so he wasn’t pushing you too hard into the surface of the furniture, but he did make you feel it. He lowered his head closer to yours so that your faces were side-by-side in the mirror, and you felt his stubble graze your cheek.

“Y’know, I meant what I said. Last time,” Joel murmured.

What?

As close as you both were now, how could the man even string words together, much less bring up old memories?

You steeled yourself in place, barely holding his gaze.

“Wh— Huh?” You sounded dumb as shit. “What?”

Joel’s teeth grazed the soft, tender skin from your jaw to your chin while he continued to work himself in and out. He slowed his thrusts to a much calmer, gentler rhythm.

He kissed your cheek just as he plunged in, balls deep.

You let out a whine so desperate, pitchy, and shrill at that, you almost didn’t hear it when he spoke again:

“I told you that I was ready.” Another gentle withdrawal. “To tell your dad.” A thrust back in. “Whenever you were.”

Shit.

So that was what this was about.

You felt good. You felt like you were ready, too.

But the prospect of telling your father the truth about you and Joel was nothing short of terrifying, frankly. Imagining what he might say—or do—to the man you loved made you want to keep this hidden away for as long as you possibly could. It was selfish, you knew it. Still, it was scary to think of all the things that would change as soon as you made this known to your dad.

From what you could tell, though, Joel wasn’t feeling quite the same level of concern. He fucked you slow and deep. He let his hand slide from your throat to your legs.

Between them, he found your clit easily and pressed in.

He rubbed circles while he dragged his cock in and out at the most maddening pace, and with every thrust, you could feel him hit that sensitive place, again and again.

You shuddered in his arms. You braced your hands against the dresser below, not wanting to collapse.

Sensing you were right at the brink of ecstasy, and likely wanting something to fill the lull you’d left, Joel went on.

“You— you want that, too, don’t you?”

There was patent need in that tone.

The slightest tinge of insecurity.

You didn’t want Joel to think for even a moment that you were having second thoughts, so you fought back the worry in your own mind, and you nodded your head.

“Y-Yeah, Joel. I want it,” you whispered. “I’m just scared.”

Hell, that admission might as well have been written on your face, because your expression said it all. You were teetering on release and fucking terrified of this coming to an end. The eyes that held his were a bit glossier now. Joel saw that and seemed to ease off, pressing his lips back to your skin as he rocked his hips back and forth.

“I am, too,” he confessed. His breath hitched, and the circles on your clit grew a little sloppier. He was close. “We— we can wait. I just wanna…take you places, hon.”

You knew what he meant by that. Going out without having to check over your shoulder every ten minutes, wondering if this was the time you got caught. Not needing to worry so much. Again, you nodded, and you felt Joel’s cock twitch inside you. Your walls ached, and the knot in your stomach was tightening every second.

You were about to speak up, when Joel cut back in.

“I love you. I…I don’t care how long this takes us.”

“I love you, Joel.”

You couldn’t manage much more than that. Already the tides of pleasure were rising too high, and your chest was flooded with a heady feeling. You were about to give in, still holding Joel’s gaze in the mirror, and from behind you, you could see his demeanor harden with purpose.

On hearing you say those words, you loved him, plans involving his old friend and the worst the man might think when you two came clean with the truth were lost to the ether, it seemed. He set it all aside, at least momentarily, as he worked on drawing your pleasure out and also getting himself there in time. He held your hip tighter and drew his quick, messy circles through your folds in just the way you liked, and he kissed you gently. He fucked you gently. He made every last word and touch and brush of his cock inside you feel as tender as you’d ever felt it before. You came undone in seconds.

‘I love you’ was almost like a refrain between you both.

Joel shortly followed. He groaned against your neck as the pleasure fluttered and pulsed—muttered something about wanting to spill inside, but you both knew better. He withdrew just in time to paint the insides of your thighs, then your ass, then the small of your back.

There was so much. While relishing your own moment of bliss, you couldn’t help but savor the warmth and weight of Joel’s spend coating your skin. It made it feel that much more raw, and primal, and from the look Joel had lowered between your bodies to take in that wet, sticky mess, you could tell he was thinking the same as you.

You weren’t surprised, and didn’t flinch, when he pushed two fingers in your mouth. He still had you up against the dresser, eyes locked on your own reflection, so you saw what he’d wanted you to see. You licked and sucked the cum off his fingers until they were completely clean. A reflexive whine reverberated down those fingers after you’d swallowed, and Joel’s first instinct was to smile.

“You did so good for me, sweet pea,” he praised.

His hand strayed down your front, mapping the skin mindlessly and with that same, sweet grin on his lips. You preened beneath his touch and didn’t want it to end.

Eventually, it had to. You were both drenched in cum and sweat, and as cold as it happened to be outdoors, your activities had managed to kick the heat up more than a few degrees. Joel’s chest and shoulders were glistening.

“Shower?” you murmured, turning around to face him.

Joel hummed in agreement.

He swept his thumb between your thighs one last time before teasing the tip at your lips. You suckled it softly, if not with a drowsy and contented little smile to match his

You showered. You toweled off. You threw on his shirt, Joel slid on his boxers, and you both crawled into bed. Anything beyond snuggling in and sleeping wasn’t high on the list of priorities, as you assumed it was for Tommy and Maria, so you were surprised to hear a noise right after you closed your eyes. It was a knock on the door.

It was Tommy’s. You could tell.

Sensing the same, Joel called out:

“We’re sleepin’, man, c’mon. Go on now.”

You were certain Tommy and Maria could’ve said the same when the two of you had been engaged in your cacophonous fuckfest just fifteen minutes prior, so you stayed quiet. You squeezed Joel’s arm around your waist.

The knocking continued.

This time, it was accompanied by Tommy’s voice.

“Are y’all decent?”

In other words: not naked and going to traumatize him. You were both semi-clothed and under the covers anyway, so you yelled back that, yes, you were.

Tommy walked in. He had his phone to his ear.

Then he held the thing up, where you could dimly make out that the call was on mute, but what alarmed you even more was the contact name on the screen.

Joel leapt into a sitting position just as quickly as you.

You both froze; Tommy gestured as if to say, ‘Relax.’

“Wh— why is my dad calling you?!” you demanded.

You had no idea how the man was staying so calm. This was a bad thing, right? Beside you, Joel seemed to be thinking the same, because he twisted his head toward the window. He craned his neck, as if checking to see if your father might not be parked outside the front door. Your body tensed glancing back at Tommy—he was still holding the phone like it was a prize, or something—and when you saw him smirk a bit, you shot him a wary look.

“What?! What does he want?” you pressed again.

Instead of answering immediately, Tommy moved his thumb over to the ‘unmute’ button, and his grin grew.

“I dunno, why don’t you ask him yourself?” he said.

At the same time, and before Tommy could press that button, you and Joel both shouted at once: “DON’T!”

It almost would’ve been comical if it wasn’t also bone-chillingly horrifying. What the hell was his problem?

As if to press that last question, Joel stood from the bed and stalked over to his brother. Tommy ambled back, still taunting, and held the phone up closer to his face. Right when Joel lunged for it, the nimbler Miller jumped back. Joel blew out a breath and gritted for Tommy to grow the fuck up, would ya? Tommy just smirked and continued the song-and-dance for the cellular device. It didn’t take much for the two to get into a full-blown battle for the thing, and before you knew it, Joel had his brother snagged in a headlock, Tommy was laughing his ass off and telling him the chokehold’s illegal, asshole, and you were a second away from intervening. Fuck this noise.

“Tommy, you’re bein’ a—” you started, sharp.

“Fuckin’ dickhead!” Joel finished for you.

He’d almost wrestled the phone out of Tommy’s grip, when his brother turned and surprised you both again—he threw the phone your way. You shrieked out loud.

Force of habit.

You narrowly caught the phone in your hands.

And, having nearly dropped it at first, your fingers seized at the screen to secure their grasp. Of course, your thumb tapped right on the key you’d been trying to avoid

“Shit,” you cursed reflexively.

“Sweetheart?”

The phone was on speaker.

Across the room, Joel froze in place, and the color drained from him completely. You, too, were stock-still.

“D-Dad?” you stammered.

You half-expected him to shout—‘What on earth are you doin’ home early? And with Tommy?’—and you winced. For a second, you thought your friend might’ve snitched, and you shot him a look, but then your dad was back.

“Hey! Glad Tommy got ahold of ya. He said you caught an early flight back to surprise me. Y’all at the airport?”

You swallowed.

You must’ve said yes, because your father went on.

“Good, good. Keep your bags packed, alright?”

“Why?” You hoped he didn’t hear you falter.

Time was moving too fast. Your heart was no doubt drilling holes in your ribcage by now. Blood rushed and swirled and deafened your ears to all that was going on, but dimly, you could see Joel’s expression across the room. It was pensive, while his brother’s stayed amused.

Tommy knew something you didn’t.

Before you could begin to wonder what that was, your dad’s voice across the line shortly supplied the answer.

It was laid-back, easy, and uncharacteristically excited.

You hadn’t thought you’d ever heard him so eager about anything in his life, but there he went, telling you at once:

“I’m down in Galveston—I want y’all to come too, ASAP!”

[moonlightwritingf1]

Starved | LN4

𓂃۶ৎ summary ━━━━━━━ After three weeks apart, Y/N and Lando finally reunite in a frenzy of teasing, need, and uncontrollable desire. He tries to pace himself, to savor every second, but she knows exactly how to make him come—whispering filthy words, dragging her nails down his back, squeezing around him just right. Lando, breathless and wrecked, gives in completely, fucking her like he’s been starving for it, like he needs to make up for every second they’ve spent apart. 

𓂃۶ৎ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

𓂃۶ৎ word count ━━━━━━━ 6.7k

𓂃۶ৎ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, teasing, double creampie?

Based on this request.

The front door swung open with a creak, and before Y/N could fully register the rush of excitement coursing through her, Lando was already there—bag in hand, hair messy from travel, his eyes lit with an almost fervent need. The energy in her apartment shifted the moment he stepped inside. It was late, nearly midnight, and the city hummed quietly outside the windows. Y/N’s heart stuttered at the sight of him.

He set his luggage against the wall and straightened, looking at her with that hungry, burning gaze he’d worn ever since their early days of flirting. The difference now, after a year of dating, was that the tension was more intense than ever. Distance had stretched the longing between them like a tight elastic band—and it threatened to snap the second they touched.

Y/N stood barefoot in her cozy living room, wearing a pair of snug sweatpants and a slightly oversized hoodie. There was something about how Lando looked at her, even in that mundane outfit, that sparked an electric current across her skin. He seemed to devour her with his eyes.

His voice came out as a quiet rasp. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

She offered a slow, teasing smile and let her eyes drag along the planes of his face. “Oh, I think I might have an idea,” she teased, a little smirk curling her lips. “You look half-crazed with desperation.”

“Desperate doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he breathed. The weight of his stare lingered, unapologetically roaming over her body.

She gestured him closer, but deliberately inched backward, coaxing him to follow. Ever since they’d gotten together, she’d found a sort of magnetic pleasure in making him chase her. Lando always went along with it too—like he craved the thrill of being pulled right to her edge and then reeled back in slowly.

He dropped his coat on a nearby chair and caught her wrist gently, thumbing over her pulse. It was racing, and his grip tightened the slightest bit as he leaned in.

Her breath fluttered. “You could’ve at least pretended not to have missed me too much,” she teased, as he began planting soft kisses along her jawline.

He gave a low chuckle against her skin. “Trust me, I’ve done enough pretending on camera. Smiling for the fans, interviews, media days. But thinking of you was… dangerous.” He exhaled, warm breath ghosting over her ear. “I kept picturing your face, remembering the way you tease me, the way you say my name in that stubborn little tone you’ve perfected. It drove me mad.”

She practically purred at his confession. “So you want me to make it up to you, then?”

“Every day. Every hour. Right now,” he replied, tone edging on a plea. His lips found hers in a slow, sensual kiss that carried weeks of pent-up desire.

A needy hum slipped from Y/N’s mouth. He tasted faintly of mint gum, and the edges of his lips cracked into a half-smile as they kissed, like he found it strangely amusing to be so utterly at her mercy. When they finally pulled back, both were breathing hard.

“Missed me that bad, huh?” she whispered, nibbling her bottom lip in that way she knew drove him crazy.

Lando groaned softly. “You love torturing me, don’t you?”

She only answered with an impish grin. “Possibly.”

His chest tightened at that playful spark in her eyes. “But we have to move this somewhere else,” he murmured, glancing pointedly at the couch, then the door leading to the bedroom. The effort to remain calm was evident. His voice, though laced with need, carried a distinct note of self-control.

She raised a brow. “Feeling impatient already? Big day tomorrow?” Her playful tone jabbed at him.

“Y/N,” he murmured, pressing the syllables of her name slowly. “It’s been weeks since I last saw you—properly. I’ve had to settle for phone calls, FaceTimes…not enough.”

Her heart throbbed with sympathy and arousal all at once. He reached for her waist, but she sidestepped him in the smallest, most maddening way, letting his fingers slip over her hip without fully connecting. Then she turned and started walking toward the bedroom, tossing a glance over her shoulder.

“Come on then,” she invited, voice laced with teasing.

He tried to hide how quickly he was following, how urgent his strides were. The bedroom light was dim, a warm glow casting shadows on the walls. Y/N pulled off her hoodie and tossed it onto the chair in the corner. Underneath, she wore a simple cropped tank top that hinted at the curves Lando knew all too well. He swallowed hard.

She gave him an unhurried once-over. The crisp T-shirt and jeans he wore clung just right. His shoulders seemed broader than the last time she’d seen him in person, a testament to relentless training, and it made her mouth go dry with anticipation.

He strode closer. “You’re about to kill me,” he muttered against her lips, hooking a finger under her chin to bring her face back up to his.

She let out a low laugh. “You’re so dramatic,” she teased, eyes dancing with mischief.

He brushed his mouth over hers. His hands found the hem of her tank top, lifting it slowly. Skin against skin, everything was scorching—like her body remembered the heat of him. As the soft fabric slid up, goosebumps rippled over her arms. He paused just before fully removing it, his thumbs circling the sides of her waist in a torturously gentle motion.

“That’s because I am,” he whispered, catching her gaze. “I’m lovesick, and I’m about to break if you don’t let me have you right now.”

Her cheeks flushed with pleasure at his words. She let her arms rise, letting him tug the tank top off fully. Once discarded, her bare skin was exposed to the gentle glow of the lamp, and Lando’s eyes roamed over her with a reverence that made her pulse hammer.

He captured her lips again, deeper this time, and she hummed into his mouth. As his fingertips drifted up her ribs, she arched just enough to let him know she wanted his touch. But something in how he was moving felt restrained, cautious—and she understood why. He’d hinted at it more than once over their late-night calls—his voice low, edged with need. After weeks apart, he was afraid he’d barely last, that the moment he finally had her beneath him, wrapped around him, he’d come undone too fast.

When she slipped her hand over the front of his jeans, he inhaled sharply, body going rigid under her palm. “Careful,” he rasped, exhaling through clenched teeth. “I’m on a fragile edge, princess.”

“Princess?” she echoed with a low laugh, leaning up to nibble gently at his jaw. “That’s new. I like it.”

He let out a strangled chuckle. “You can make fun of me all you want, but you’re not helping my… self-control.”

Her lips curved into a dangerous smile. “Who says I want to help that?”

His breath hitched again as her hand roamed lower. She was only half-teasing, but the effect on him was immediate. He tried to focus on reigning in the rush of sensations. He was determined not to finish in what he jokingly referred to as “three strokes and a heartbreak.” Still, the desperation in him built. Every inch of him blazed as if starved for her.

“You’re absolutely lethal,” he breathed, capturing her mouth in a series of hungry kisses. He struggled to keep them slow, to drag them out when all he truly wanted was to lose himself.

Her responses were equally heated, equally needy. Her fingernails grazed lightly across his chest as she pulled his T-shirt up. She wanted every second of this, yet found a thrill in matching his struggle—knowing he was hoovering on the brink, but wanting to draw it out, to savor every moment of this union that they’d both waited far too long for.

He moaned quietly into her mouth when she slid his jeans down over his hips, grazing the sensitive skin just above the waistband of his boxers. “I need you,” he whispered, a raw edge to his tone. “But I’m trying to—God, I’m trying not to—”

She silenced him with another kiss, swallowing his groan. “Shh, you’re fine,” she reassured softly. There was a gentle tease in her voice, but also a note of real affection. She loved that he cared so much about not rushing, about savoring every touch.

She reached behind herself, letting her sweatpants slip off. Lando couldn’t help but stare, throat bobbing, voice strangled with desire. “You’re perfect,” he managed to say.

She gave him a look that was warm and amused. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

He trailed his hands along her waist, fingertips pressing into flesh that was already sensitive under his touch. Their kisses became a frantic dance of tongues and whispers. Her hand crept around his neck, and she guided him onto the bed, pushing him gently until he was lying back against the pillows.

Climbing on top of him, she leaned down, hair falling like a curtain around their faces. “Lando?” she murmured, voice honeyed with both affection and playfulness.

“Yeah?” His hands settled on her hips, kneading softly.

“You realize how adorable you are when you’re this desperate?” she teased, a mischievous spark lighting her gaze.

He let out a mock groan of frustration. “Adorable is not the vibe I’m going for,” he mumbled, though a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Fine,” she relented with a smirk of her own. “How about ‘hot as hell’ then?”

“That’s more like it.” He lifted his head enough to catch her mouth with his, losing himself momentarily in the sweetness of her lips. But the moment she straddled him, the heat of her pussy pressing along the rigid length of his cock, his breath hitched—sharp and unsteady. He gasped, tilting his head back against the pillow before dragging his eyes to hers, voice raw with desperation. “Sorry,” he panted. “Give me—give me a second.”

She stroked his cheek with unexpected tenderness. “We have all night,” she murmured, though her own voice shook with barely contained desire. “No need to rush.”

A shaky laugh escaped him. “Easy for you to say.”

She braced her hands on his shoulders, feeling the tense muscle beneath. “Let me take the lead for a bit, hmm?” Her tone was simultaneously soothing and heavy with suggestion.

His eyes fluttered shut at the mere offer, a shiver of anticipation running through him. “God, yes,” he whispered.

Y/N trailed slow, open-mouthed kisses along the column of his neck, down to his chest. The soft sighs escaping him fueled her confidence. She used the tip of her tongue to trace small patterns, peppering each touch with a light graze of her teeth. Meanwhile, his hands remained at her hips, occasionally gripping, occasionally loosening, as if he couldn’t decide whether to let go or hold on tight.

Every breath he took sounded labored. She could practically feel his heart pounding against her palm when she slid her hand across his chest. “You okay down there?” she teased.

He swallowed, eyes fluttering open to find hers. “Just struggling to hold back a bit,” he admitted with a self-conscious grin. “Last thing I want is to pass out from excitement.”

Her laugh was low and husky, dripping with wicked intent. She leaned in, pressing her lips against his ear, her breath hot and teasing as she whispered,

“You know, I was gonna be good tonight… but then I felt how fucking hard you are for me, and now all I can think about is how deep I can take you down my throat before you start begging me to breathe.”

Lando let out a sharp, ragged exhale, his hands gripping her hips like they were the only thing keeping him grounded. She smirked, letting her nails scrape down his chest before sliding back up to his throat, her fingers curling just enough to make his Adam’s apple bob.

“And you keep saying you’ll finish too fast,” she went on, voice syrupy and sweet, “but baby, I want you to. I wanna feel you lose control, make a mess of me, then get hard again while I’m still licking your come off my lips.”

His whole body shuddered beneath her, his head pressing back into the pillows as he let out a strangled groan. She grinned, shifting her hips just enough to drag her soaked pussy along the length of his cock, the sensation making him curse under his breath.

“What’s wrong, baby?” she cooed, tilting her head mockingly. “Don’t tell me I’ve got you speechless already. We haven’t even gotten to the part where I bend over and spread myself open for you… or where I make you watch while I play with myself, nice and slow, until you’re desperate enough to shove me down and fuck me stupid.”

Lando’s grip on her tightened—hard enough to bruise. His breath was ragged, his jaw clenched, and when he finally looked up at her, his eyes were dark, blown wide with lust.

“You think you’re in control, don’t you?” His voice was hoarse, shaking with restraint.

She smirked, leaning down until their lips were just barely touching. “I know I am.”

She decided to ease the tension a bit and murmured dirty jokes in his ear, half-laughing between each whisper, making him grin and groan all at once. The more she joked, the more he relaxed, letting himself smile even as raw need clawed at him from the inside.

Eventually, she guided him to switch positions, rolling him gently so she was beneath him. He braced himself on his forearms, pressing his forehead to hers. His breathing was ragged. “Y/N, I swear I’m trying to play it cool.”

Her lips brushed his earlobe. “Then don’t,” she whispered. “Just be with me.”

He swallowed thickly. “But I want this to last.”

“It will,” she promised, skimming her fingertips over his back.

Lando’s breath hitched as he positioned himself between her thighs, his eyes dark with hunger and restraint. His hands trembled slightly as he guided himself to her entrance, the tip of his cock brushing against her wet heat. With a slow, deliberate movement, he pushed into her, burying himself to the hilt in one agonizingly perfect stroke. A deep, guttural groan escaped his lips, muffled against the curve of her neck. “Fuck, you feel incredible,” he rasped, his voice thick with need.

He withdrew almost completely, his cock slick with her arousal, before sinking back in at a torturously slow pace. Every inch of him seemed to strain with the effort to maintain control. His hips rolled against hers in a rhythm that was both maddening and mesmerizing, each thrust deeper than the last. His fingers dug into the sheets on either side of her head as he fought to keep the rhythm steady, his breath hot and ragged against her skin.

“Lando,” she gasped, her hands sliding up his arms to his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. He groaned again, his forehead pressing into hers as he continued to move with that same slow, deliberate pace. “You’re killing me,” he whispered, his voice trembling with restraint. “I can’t—fuck, I can’t go any faster or I’ll lose it.”

He paused mid-thrust, his body still buried deep inside her, his forehead resting heavily against hers. His chest heaved with labored breaths, his eyes closed as he struggled to regain his composure. “I need to slow down,” he panted, his voice barely audible. “If I don’t, this is gonna be over before I get to ruin you properly.”

Her hands drifted down to his abdomen, her fingertips brushing over the taut, trembling muscles there. She could feel the way his abs contracted with every shaky breath, the way his body fought against the overwhelming urge to lose control. “You’re doing so well,” she murmured, her voice soft and encouraging. Her nails raked lightly over his skin, and he hissed through clenched teeth, a curse slipping from his lips.

“You—that’s not helping,” he growled, his hips twitching involuntarily. He pulled out completely, his hands gripping the base of his cock as he fought to hold back the tide of pleasure threatening to overwhelm him. His breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, his eyes squeezed shut as he whispered, “I need a second, or I swear—”

She reached up to cradle his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheeks as she kissed him softly. “Take your time,” she whispered against his lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He let out a shaky laugh, his forehead resting against hers once more. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he murmured, his voice tinged with both desperation and affection. “But fuck, what a way to go.”

Lando’s body shuddered as he guided himself back inside her, the heat of her slick walls wrapping around him like a intoxicating squeeze. His breath hitched, and his hands trembled where they braced on either side of her head. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he groaned, his voice raw and strained as he sunk in inch by torturous inch. She clenched around him instinctively, and he let out a sharp, breathless curse, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. “Jesus—Y/N, please—” he rasped, his forehead pressing against hers as his body fought to stay in control.

His lips brushed her temple, his warm breath ghosting over her skin as he whispered, his voice wrecked and trembling with need. “I thought about this every night—about being buried inside you, feeling you squeeze me like this. You’re unreal, sweetheart.” Each word was a desperate confession, his voice breaking slightly as he spoke. His hips moved in slow, deliberate thrusts, the rhythm faltering as he struggled to keep his composure.

He dragged his lips down to her collarbone, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin. His breath was ragged, his movements careful and measured as he tried to focus on her instead of the overwhelming pressure building inside him. His tongue traced a path along her collarbone, his lips pressing firm and insistent, as if trying to anchor himself in the feel of her body beneath him. “You’re too good,” he muttered against her skin, his voice muffled and strained. “Too fucking perfect.”

Y/N tightened around him deliberately, her walls pulsing in slow, rhythmic clenches that made his hips stutter. He groaned, a low, guttural sound that tore from his throat. “Fuck—Y/N, don’t—” he begged, his hands gripping the sheets tightly as he fought to hold on. But she didn’t stop, milking him with every pulse, and he let out a strangled curse, pulling out of her completely before he could lose control. His chest heaved, his body trembling with the effort to calm down.

But it didn’t last long. With a shaky breath, he guided himself back inside her, his thrusts slow and deep once more. His lips found her throat, and he mumbled against her skin, his voice hoarse and broken. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—” The repeated curse spilled from his lips like a prayer, his grip on her tightening as he struggled to keep his rhythm steady.

His eyes stayed locked on her face, watching the way her lips parted with every thrust, the way her brows knit together in pleasure. It was nearly enough to undo him completely. He groaned, his voice breaking mid-moan as she clenched around him unexpectedly. “Fuck—Y/N,” he gasped, the sound desperate and breathless, his hips jerking forward as he lost himself in the sensation for a moment.

Then he let out a shaky laugh, his forehead resting against hers as he tried to catch his breath. “You—fuck—you’ve got me completely fucked up, you know that?” His voice was tinged with both desperation and affection, his hands trembling as they brushed her hair back from her face. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Her nails dug into his back as she arched against him, her body practically vibrating with need. God, he was teasing her, not fucking her properly, and it was driving her insane. Every slow, deliberate thrust of his cock inside her was sending waves of pleasure rippling through her, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted him to lose control, to give in to the raw, primal need she could feel simmering just beneath his carefully maintained restraint.

Her hips rolled against his, trying to coax him into a faster pace, but he only groaned, his forehead pressing against hers as he fought to keep his movements slow and steady. "Lando, please," she whimpered, her voice breaking as her fingers tangled in his hair. "I need more. I need you to fuck me properly."

He let out a shaky laugh, his breath hot against her lips. "Sweetheart, if I start fucking you the way you want me to, I’m not gonna last," he admitted, his voice hoarse. "You feel too fucking good."

She clenched around him deliberately, feeling him shudder against her as a moan tore from his throat. "Then don’t last," she urged, her voice a desperate plea. "Let go. I want to feel you come undone inside me."

His hips stuttered, and he let out a strangled curse, pulling out of her completely as he fought to regain control. His chest heaved, his body trembling with the effort to calm down, but the look in his eyes was pure, unadulterated desire. "You’re gonna be the death of me," he muttered, his voice thick with need.

"And you love it," she shot back, a wicked grin spreading across her lips as she reached for him, pulling him back down to her. Her body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for more, and she wasn’t about to let him stop until he gave her exactly what she wanted.

He slid into her again, the thick length of his cock stretching her in the most delicious way. For her, the sensation was overwhelming—a perfect balance of fullness and heat, every nerve in her pussy lighting up as he buried himself to the hilt. He felt like he belonged there, like her body had been made to take him, and the ache of needing more only grew as he stayed still inside her. For him, it was pure torture. The velvety tightness of her walls clung to him, hot and wet, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from thrusting. His cock throbbed, desperate for release, and every second he stayed buried in her without moving felt like both heaven and hell.

Her lips found his in a soft, tender kiss, her tongue brushing against his in a slow, teasing rhythm. Just as the kiss deepened, she squeezed around him deliberately, her walls pulsing in a tight, irresistible grip. He groaned into her mouth, his control slipping as his hips jerked involuntarily. “God, Y/N,” he gasped, pulling back just enough to look at her, his eyes dark and desperate. “You’re trying to ruin me, aren’t you?”

She smirked, her lips swollen from his kisses. “Move, Lando,” she begged, her voice breathless and pleading. “Please. I need you to fuck me. I can’t take this anymore.” Her hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as she arched against him, trying to coax him into motion. But he was determined to hold out, to savor every second, even if it was killing him.

She pressed her hips back against him, trying to force him to move, but he stopped her with a firm grip on her waist. “Patience, princess,” he murmured, his voice strained but teasing. Then he began to move again, slowly at first, each thrust deliberate and deep. The drag of his cock inside her was agonizingly perfect, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through her entire body. He groaned, his forehead pressing against hers as he fought to keep the pace steady.

But she wasn’t about to let him win. Just as he found a rhythm, she pulsed around him again, her walls fluttering in a way that made him falter. His thrusts became erratic, his control crumbling as he let out a low, guttural curse. “Fuck, Y/N,” he growled, his voice trembling with need. “You’re making this impossible.”

She grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Good,” she whispered, her voice dripping with wicked intent. “I want you to lose control. I want to feel you come inside me, Lando.” Her words were too much for him. He was already on the edge, and when she squeezed around him one last time, he was done for. His thrusts stuttered, his rhythm completely broken as he groaned her name, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside her.

For her, the feeling was intoxicating. The warmth of his cum filling her only made her wetter, her pussy clinging to him greedily. She didn’t come, but the sensation of him spilling inside her, combined with the way his cock twitched against her walls, left her even more desperate for release. “You feel so good,” she whispered, her voice husky as she teased him. “I can feel how hard you came. Did I ruin your plans, baby?”

For him, it was overwhelming. The pleasure that ripped through him was almost too much, every pulse of his cock sending waves of ecstasy crashing over him. He groaned, his body trembling as he tried to catch his breath. “You’re fucking perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough and full of adoration. “I swear, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

She laughed softly, her fingers brushing through his hair. “You love it,” she teased, her voice sultry and full of promise. 

Lando let out a shaky chuckle, his hips still pressed firmly against hers. His cock, still semi-hard but undeniably sensitive, remained buried inside her, throbbing faintly as she clenched around him. He kissed her temple, his lips lingering against her skin. “And I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with lingering desire. His body trembled slightly with the aftershocks of his orgasm, but the feeling of her tight heat wrapped around him kept him on the edge, unable to pull away.

He groaned softly, his forehead resting against hers as he whispered, “Fuck, you’re still so perfect. Can’t even think about leaving you.” His hips shifted slightly, a small, involuntary movement that sent a jolt of pleasure—and sensitivity—through him. He hissed through his teeth, his hands gripping her waist as he fought the urge to move again.

Y/N smirked, her legs still wrapped around him, keeping him close. “Sensitive, huh?” she teased, her voice dripping with playful mischief. She squeezed around him gently, just enough to make him groan and his hips jerk forward instinctively.

“God, you’re a menace,” he muttered, his voice strained but laced with adoration. He pressed a kiss to her lips, his movements slow and tender, as if reveling in the feel of her still around him. “But I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.”

His words were a promise, and it was one she intended to hold him to.

His words were a promise, and she intended to hold him to it. Before he could say another word, she surged forward, capturing his lips in a searing, hungry kiss. Her mouth moved against his with a fierce urgency, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip before her tongue swept inside, claiming him with a possessive dominance that made him groan. She kissed him like she was determined to remind him exactly who owned him, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss until they were both breathless.

And then she began to squeeze, her pussy clenching around his cock in slow, deliberate pulses that had him moaning into her mouth. He was still sensitive, his body trembling as his cock twitched inside her, the overstimulation leaving him breathless and aching. She didn’t stop, her walls fluttering rhythmically, milking him in a way that made his hips jerk involuntarily. “Fuck, Y/N,” he gasped, breaking the kiss to press his forehead against hers. “You’re killing me.”

She smirked, her lips swollen from his kisses, and reached up to tug gently at his hair, guiding his mouth down to her breast. “Suck,” she commanded, her voice low and husky with need. He obeyed without hesitation, his lips closing around her hardened nipple, his tongue flicking over it in slow, teasing circles. She arched into his mouth, a soft moan escaping her lips as his teeth grazed her sensitive skin.

As he sucked, she began to grind, her hips moving in slow, sensual circles that made his cock slide deeper inside her. He groaned against her breast, his hands gripping her hips tightly as she took control, her movements deliberate and teasing. But then, unable to resist, he began to thrust, his hips rolling against hers in a rhythm that was both rough and tender. He fucked her with a desperation that left him breathless, his cock moving in and out of her slick heat with a wet, obscene sound that only fueled the fire between them.

He finally pulled back from her breast,and stared into her eyes as he continued to thrust. “Mmm, is this what you wanted?” he rasped, his voice thick with need. “Me sucking on you while I’m still inside you?” His tongue flicked over her nipple one last time, making her whimper, before his gaze dropped to where their bodies were connected.

His cum was still slick on the length of his cock, glistening in the dim light as it disappeared into her with every thrust. The visual was almost too much to handle. “You feel that, baby?” he breathed, his voice trembling. “My cock’s still drenched in you—covered in my cum.” His eyes stayed locked on the sight, completely mesmerized by the way she took him, her pussy glistening with their combined arousal.

“Look at that—fuck, look at how messy we are,” he groaned, his fingers gripping her jaw and forcing her to watch as his cock slid in and out of her. She moaned at the sight, her eyes widening as she took in the way his cum coated his length, leaking out of her with every thrust. “Shit, that’s my cum leaking out of you. You like seeing what you do to me?” His voice was a low, desperate rasp, his fingers smearing the evidence of his release along her thighs before gripping her ass tightly.

“I can’t stop watching—you’re taking me so well, fuck,” he muttered, his thrusts growing more erratic as the sight of his cock disappearing into her soaked pussy drove him closer to the edge. She moaned again, her hands gripping his shoulders as she met his thrusts, her body trembling with need. “You’re fucking perfect,” he growled, his voice breaking as he lost himself in the heat of her, in the way she felt around him, in the way she looked, completely wrecked by him.

And she was perfect—every gasp, every moan, every clench of her pussy around his cock only proved it. He couldn’t get enough of her, and he knew he never would.

Lando’s thrusts were deep and relentless, his cock filling her completely with every stroke. She could feel the way he stretched her, the way his cum from earlier still coated his length, making each movement slick and intoxicating. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. Her hand slipped between their bodies, her fingers finding her swollen clit with ease. She gasped, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment as she began to rub herself in slow, deliberate circles.

“Lando,” she moaned, her voice trembling with need. “Watch me.”

His eyes snapped to where her hand was working between her thighs, and what he saw made his breath catch. Her fingers were slick with his cum, the evidence of their earlier union glistening on her skin as she spread the warmth across her clit. The sight was almost too much to handle. His thrusts faltered for a moment, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as he watched her play with herself.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his voice hoarse with desperation. “You’re actually spreading it… you’re playing with my cum while I’m still inside you?”

She smirked up at him, her fingers never stopping their slow, teasing movements. “Mmm, look at that—your cum’s still dripping out of me, Lando,” she purred, her tone dripping with mischief. She dipped her fingers between her thighs again, deliberately rubbing his release into her swollen clit. “You see how messy we are? How much you’ve already given me?”

Lando’s cock throbbed inside her at her words, the sensation of her tightening around him nearly making him lose control. His thrusts became more erratic, his rhythm faltering as he struggled to keep his eyes on her fingers. “Shit, baby, keep going—let me see you make yourself come while I fuck you,” he begged, his voice breaking on the last word.

She moaned, her head falling back against the pillows as she let him watch her. Her fingers moved faster now, her clit pulsing under her touch as she neared the edge. “Come on, baby—watch me,” she whispered, her voice breathless. “Watch how I play with your cum while you fuck me.”

Lando’s hands gripped her hips tightly, his fingers digging into her skin as he fought to keep his thrusts steady. “You know what that does to me?” he rasped, his eyes locked on her fingers. “Watching you play with yourself while I’m inside you? It’s fucking insane.”

But she wasn’t done yet. Just as he seemed to find his rhythm again, she stopped him, her hands pressing against his abs to halt his movements. “Wait,” she whispered, her voice soft but commanding. His body stilled immediately, his cock throbbing inside her as he tried to catch his breath.

With a slow, deliberate movement, she reached down and wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, pulling him out of her. The sensation was almost too much for him, his cock twitching in her hand as she guided him free of her slick heat. He groaned, his eyes closing for a moment as he fought the urge to thrust into her hand.

But she wasn’t done. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she dipped her fingers inside her pussy, gathering the cum that was still leaking out of her. His breath hitched as he watched her, his cock jerking in her hand at the sight. “Fuck, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “You’re killing me.”

She smirked, her fingers spreading his cum across her swollen clit, making sure he could see every second of it. The sensation was electric, her clit pulsing under her touch as she worked herself closer to the edge. “You see that, Lando?” she moaned, her voice low and husky. “You see how wet you’ve made me? How much of you I’m still holding inside me?”

Lando couldn’t look away, his eyes locked on her fingers as they moved over her clit. “Holy fuck,” he breathed, his voice rough with need. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this.”

She reached for him again, her other hand wrapping around his cock as she guided him back to her entrance. “You’re gonna give me more, aren’t you?” she whispered against his lips, smirking as she pressed him deeper. “You feel that? How easy you slide in after you’ve already come inside me?”

He groaned, his hips jerking forward as she took him completely. “Y/N,” he rasped, his voice breaking. “I can’t—fuck, I can’t take much more of this.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper as she began to rub her clit again. “Now fuck me, Lando,” she moaned, her voice breathless and needy. “Don’t hold back. I want to feel you deep—make a mess of me again.”

His thrusts were desperate now, his rhythm completely lost as he watched her fingers work her clit. “Fuck—Y/N, I can’t take my eyes off you,” he groaned, his voice hoarse. “You’re fucking unreal… you’re gonna make me come just from watching.”

She tightened around him, her walls fluttering as she neared her own release. “That’s it, baby—give me everything,” she whispered, her hands guiding his hips deeper as he shuddered above her. “Fill me up again.”

Lando’s body tensed, his thrusts growing shaky as his pleasure consumed him entirely. “Oh, fuck—fuck, Y/N, I’m coming—” he gasped, his voice strained as his orgasm crashed over him. His hips slammed against hers in broken strokes, his cock pulsing inside her as he spilled himself for the second time.

She felt his release filling her, the warmth spreading through her as his body twitched with overstimulation. “Fuck, Lando, I can feel you throbbing—so desperate for me,” she moaned, clenching around him as her own orgasm ripped through her. Her clit pulsed under her fingers, her body trembling as she came on his cock, the sensation of him still inside her only intensifying her pleasure.

Lando whimpered, his thrusts faltering as the sensitivity overwhelmed him. “Shit—take it all, baby, take every drop of me,” he whispered, his voice wrecked. “Jesus Christ—look at that, look at how much I’m filling you up again.”

He didn’t pull out immediately, too lost in the moment, too addicted to the warmth, the wetness, the way she was still wrapped around him. His forehead rested against hers, his breaths coming in shallow gasps as he tried to calm his racing heart. “So fucking full of me, sweetheart—fuck, take it all, take every drop,” he murmured, his voice trembling with adoration.

She smiled up at him, her fingers still lazily tracing circles over her clit as she savored the aftershocks of her release. “You love it,” she teased, her voice sultry and full of promise. “And you’re mine.”

Lando let out a shaky laugh, his lips pressing against hers in a soft, tender kiss. “Always,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Always yours.”

They stayed like that for a long time, lost in the warmth of each other, the world outside forgotten. For Lando, there was no place he’d rather be, and he knew, without a doubt, that he’d never get enough of her. She was his addiction, his obsession, his everything. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Long moments later, Lando finally pulled himself out of her, his cock slipping free with a soft, wet sound that made him groan. He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead before murmuring, "Be right back," and disappearing into the bathroom. She lay there, legs still trembling, her body humming with the aftershocks of their shared passion.

He returned a moment later, a warm, damp towel in his hand. Gently, he knelt beside her, his touch tender as he cleaned her up, his fingers brushing over her skin with a reverence that made her heart swell. "You’re perfect," he whispered, his voice a little hoarse, as he wiped away the evidence of their union.

When he was done, he tossed the towel aside and slid into bed next to her, his body still radiating heat. He settled onto his back, pulling her with him so she lay half across his chest, her head nestled against his shoulder. He was still out of breath, a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead, and she brushed it aside with the back of her hand, her fingers lingering as she gazed up at him.

“See?” she whispered, a teasing grin lighting her face. “You survived. Didn’t finish in three strokes.”

He gave a short laugh, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. “Barely,” he admitted.

She smoothed her hand through his hair. “I like that you were so worried.”

“Because it’s been so long since we’ve been together like this,” he breathed, looking at her intently. “I didn’t want to ruin it by letting it slip away too quickly.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” she said softly, nuzzling closer. “It was perfect.”

He exhaled, relief flooding his expression. “I love you,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder.

She felt warmth bloom in her chest—she’d never get tired of hearing that. “I love you too,” she echoed, soft but sincere.

They lay there in comfortable silence for a while, each reveling in the steady rhythm of the other’s heartbeat.

[kkukverse]

Put Your Head on My Shoulder

Pair : husband!jk x wife!reader

Genre: marriage au

Warnings: sex scenes nothing too wild

w/c: 10.3 k

“Passports?”

“Check.”

“Your backpack?”

“Check.”

“My wallet? Your wallet?”

“Also check.”

“Oh! Toothbrushes?”

The man didn’t reply as he stares at you in disbelief. “Babe,” he sigh softly. But you’re too busy checking your luggage and your backpack. Not wanting to leave anything important behind.

“Our toothbrushes Kook, do we have them? Oh god don’t tell me you forgot. Remember Krabi? The one where we forgot our toothbrushes?” With frantic hands you unzip the front part of the luggage to check for the said items.

“Mr. Jeon Jungkook?” 

You let out a sigh as you look up to see why your husband didn’t reply to you. Instead of catching him getting as busy as you are, he is actually looking at you with an amused smile on his face. “There we go, finally you’re looking at me.”

With a grunt you stood facing him, eyes rolling and the little lips pout started to form on your face with wrinkles on your forehead. Jungkook leans forward as he puts his hands on your shoulders, “Babe, calm down. We’re not going to the other side of the world for months. It’s your hometown. I have packed our toothbrushes, and so what, if we left them behind? We can buy them.” Jungkook squeezed your shoulders in hopes to loosen up the knotted muscles as you’re too tensed.

You are always on the edge every time the two of you went on a long trip together. But today it seems to get worse. 

You’re used to be the reckless traveler, someone who is hungry with spontaneous adventures and unplanned vacations. But all of that were before marriage, before you had to take care of another human being.

Ever since with Jungkook, you always feel the need to have everything perfectly arranged. You never admitted it but you somehow feel inadequate at attending the need for your husband.

Well, compared to your peers, you, as a wife, is on an 'okay' level. 

Most of your friends who got married earlier than you certainly are on the master level. You love them, really. But there’s a time when you think that they’re being too good to be true.

They’re the perfect housewives, the spot on clean home all year round, birthed beautiful babies, cooking up home cooked meals that would make top chefs cried. They’re the trophy wives.  

You and Jungkook are a working couple. You work on the typical working hours, from 9 to 5. The house? You think the house look perfect because you have such a wonderful husband who loves cleaning and doing the laundry.

Unlike you, Jungkook works around his own schedule hence his working time is more flexible than yours. Plus, he’s working from home most of the time. If it’s up to you, the house would be a mess. For the food part, on weekdays, it’s take outs. 

You are matured enough to understand that people will show things they wanna show. But somehow, somewhere in your heart, it stings when you thought you are not good enough as a wife.

You have no idea how you managed to catch Jungkook as your husband because that man is amazing. He never complains. Not once. Never degrading you for not being the typical wife.

As if the role is reversed in your household. He has been the one that begs you to rest so he could help with the house chores. He sometimes prepared dinner, although claiming he’s not a good cook but if there’s one warm hearty meal on the table after a long day at work waiting for you, you are in no place to complain.

"Well, I'm pretty independent too, you know. Mom and dad were busy and hyung was always studying somewhere. I know how to take care of myself, and now I can take care of you," This is Jungkook's favourite statement.

He really is an endearing human being. You’re still learning to take care of him as well. Which is why you get fidgety because you’re so afraid of screwing everything up.

“I know but we don't have to buy it. Why are we wasting money? Once we're back home, we gonna have extra set of toothbrushes, which we don't even need in the first place.” You yaps under your breath as you double check the snacks in your backpack.

Rummaging the backpack for the nth time. Ointment, mint breath strips, lip balm, protein and choco bars. Jungkook must munch on something, and he needs sugar. That’s the least you can do. Providing him snacks.

“Will you please look at me?” Jungkook hunched down to be on your eye level. He puts his hands on yours as your knuckles grip the luggage trolley. A little smile adorning his face at how his big hands envelope your tiny hands, looking perfectly fit together. He rarely tells you but he absolutely loves it when he gets to wrap your fingers with his palms. Feeling the warmth emitted from you.

But right now your hands are cold, and Jungkook knew that you’re not just anxious. He’s not sure yet, so he’s trying to ease you to tell him. Silently pleading with his cooing and his bambi eyes for you to look at him back. 

He winced a little when your eyes locked on his. Jungkook knows very well from the look of his wife just gave him. Immediately, he cups your face and lean closer.

“Hey, hey what is it? Can you tell me?” he whispered as if you're both are sharing a secret that only the two of you know. In the hectic airport with so many people come and go, Jungkook grounded you by just being close to you.

“It’s just, you don’t have to come with me, you know. I hate dragging you into my family matters. I know you’re busy and the fact that you have to leave everything for a week is just,” you heave a sigh as you put your hands on his chest. “Just not sitting well with me. I can go there all by myself,” you rambles.

“Don’t say it like that,” Jungkook is not gonna lie but your words hurt him.

It hurts when you’re trying to not include him into your personal matter. He is your husband, he admits it was hard to break through the wall you built. It took him enough time to get a glimpse of the side that you always hide.

He wants to be your tree, he wants you lean on him and trust him. Your problem is his problem too. It pains him to see you stress over something and he just wanted you to share it with him. 

You have never been the one who wears their emotions on their sleeves, so Jungkook have to observe you carefully. He learns with the frown on your face, the wavering voice, the way you avoid eye contact. He is still learning because you are like an enigma in an endless maze, he used to be the one who wanted to decode your thoughts, and the one that can walk into the layers of your maze without feeling lost.

But now he just wants to understand you, wants you to know that he accepts all of your quirks and wandering thoughts. 

God, he loves you so much and how could you unconsciously treating him like he is a stranger. 

“Don’t you dare say it like I’m not supposed to be there. Don’t exclude me from your family affairs. They’re my family too,” he emphasis on every word and it softens you.

“Also, I will not allow you to go so far away all by yourself, not when I’m still capable to go everywhere with you. I know, you’re the most amazing and independent woman but I want to be there,” Jungkook gently butts his head on yours, an act of comfort he always do when you’re not listening to him or whenever you feel a little insecure, it’s like saying I’m here and don’t shut me away, his stern yet soft statement makes your view a bit glassy.

He kissed your cheeks before leaving a fluttering peck on your lips. To soothe your nerves.  

It’s true that Jungkook had insisted on coming with you to your hometown, despite his busy work. Piles of unfinished videos and songs in his studio at home were left behind immediately the moment you said you have to go back to your hometown for a family business.

Jungkook knew what family business you’re talking about because it has been your constant topic during dinner. It’s a series of events. It’s started from your aunt is getting a divorce - not that it has anything to do with you but somehow all of your family members had agreed on an urgent meeting.

You figured out from your cousin that they also wanted to gather in remembering your late Grandpapa. 

It was a long overdue event. It kept getting pushed back because somebody got married, someone just gave birth, your cousin is still studying overseas and much more excuses.

Perhaps they realized now is a good time, or perhaps because everyone is coming to support your aunt. You decided that you must come, you missed everyone so dearly.

The other solid reason why you have to be there is because you’re the closest grandchild to your Grandpapa and it has been years since you visited your Grandmama. Even Jungkook hasn’t met her yet.

She couldn’t make it to your wedding since she had fallen ill at that time. The wedding was a small ceremony with only close relatives and friends. And you didn’t stay longer because you and Jungkook have to fly back immediately. 

You missed your Grandmama terribly. Your grandparents practically raised you when your mom and your dad were economically and psychologically struggling in being a parent. Not that you blame them, because now, you're at their age when they become parents for the first time and you started to understand them.

Grandpapa passed away before you met Jungkook, way back when you were in high school, and sometimes it always hits you at how he would love to know the amazing man you called your husband.

Since he loves teasing you when you were little, and you can’t help but think Jungkook and Grandpapa would be close buddies with their teasing antics. 

You told Jungkook some of the memories you had with your grandparents, you also shared with him the moment when you have to move out from their house to live back with your parents. You still remember the sadness looks in your Grandpapa’s wrinkled face like it all happened yesterday. You did visited them occasionally. During the holiday season or when you have a long school break. But, it was not enough.

Honestly, Jungkook is as excited and definitely nervous in meeting your Grandmama. He heard a lot about that amazing lady from you and he’s afraid of her acceptance. What if she didn’t like him? What if she decided that Jungkook is not enough for her granddaughter? From your stories your grandma sounds like a warm person but what if she’s cold to him?

“Thank you Jungkook, for coming with me,” it came out like a whisper in his ear. Squeezing your hand, he pulls you to walk beside him as he push the trolley to the boarding gate.

Although you were reluctant on dragging him along, his presence still brings you peace, and you need him.

“Oh babe, I forgot to show you. Remember yesterday, Taehyung came over with Yuna?” Jungkook is pulling out his phone from his back pocket. Wanting to show you the video of your friend’s baby.

“Of course I remember. They left before I reached home.” Sighing, recalling how you rushed to get home yesterday just to meet Yuna, the little bundle of joy.

She is just at the perfect age when curiosity takes over her and babies are the best at this age. It’s not like you can meet and play with her everyday. First of all Taehyung loves hoarding his daughter all to himself - selfish - and secondly because of your work.

Yuna is going to forget her godmother since she only spent her baby days with Jungkook, her godfather. 

“I’m very sure Yuna misses you just as much as you miss her. Look at this! She’s sleeping so comfortably on our desk.” Jungkook squealed as he keeps playing the video of Yuna in her pink fluffy onesie, (the one that you bought for her) drooling on your desk next to the files. She was sleeping on her stomach and as Taehyung is about to pick her up, she whined.

Making both of you giggle at her cuteness.

“God, how does she sleeps soundly on that hard desk? You know my ass is still sore from that night you pushed me onto it?” Jungkook smirks like a little tease he is, while you’re trying to act like you have no idea what it is that he’s trying to tell.

“No, honey, I don’t know,” of course you know but you’re trying to focus on anything, not the memories of your tangled sweaty bodies, falling files and your stationary box topple over on the floor. 

Sensing that you're getting shy, Jungkook keeps on teasing you. He is relentless.

He leans over the armrest, whispering in your ears, “awe come on. How can you already forgot how hard you pulled my hair, the scratches on my back, babe? Still stings. God, the way you ride me on your desk, ugh you're so hot,” he sighs heavily and you feel the warmth of his breath on your neck, you're sensitive spot.

You snapped your head so fast at your husband’s bold action. You are in an airplane for heaven’s sake! You can feel the warmth blush creeps on your face. You pinched his arm.

“There are hundreds of people on board, and we’re gonna be here for hours! No one wants to hear our bedroom story!” You hissed and Jungkook is silently yelping in pain. He hates the fact that he loves pain especially from you. 

“Okay, okay, okay!! Sorry, baby, I’m sorry. I’ll behave!” He grips on your wrist to stop you from keep abusing his arm.

The grin on Jungkook’s face is as wide as yours but suddenly your face feel in horror as you remembered you rode Jungkook on your desk!

You had sex on the desk of where Yuna fell asleep on! Slept on her stomach! Face down on the spot of Jungkook’s ass! Baby Yuna! Taehyung’s sunshine! On your desk! Did you cleaned it up?!

A loud gasp coming out from you as these thoughts bombarded your mind. You covered your mouth with your hand while the other one is grabbing Jungkook.

“What, baby, why? You wanna vomit?” Jungkook quickly leans forward to grab the paper bag from the pocket seat. You stopped him, half laughing and half crying, you’re trying to explain to him the sin you two had done but it all came out as broken sentences.

Not wanting to disturb other passengers but wanting to scream at the same time is probably the hardest choice you have to make at this moment. With wide eyes, Jungkook look at you in bewilderment.

“What is it? Should I be worried? Want me to get help?” Jungkook is in between laughing along with you or be scared that his wife is losing it. Honestly he has no idea. 

“Shit, babe. We had sex at the desk! Yuna slept on it! What are we gonna tell Taehyung? Should we tell him?” Wiping your tears while you’re mouth is still widely laughing is a confusing sight for Jungkook but once he gets the gist of what you’re trying to tell him, he, too let out a loud laugh.

The seat next to you gave the both of you a weird look and and grunts can be heard. Your husband straighten his back on the chair and clears his throat as he apologize loud enough for the row in front of you to catch it. 

Leaning back to you he grabs your hand and trying to muffle the noise as you both keep on giggling like little kids. You’re still terrified on the inside, thinking of Yuna and how are you supposed to tell her father? Kim Taehyung is going to cut your husband’s dick once he knew.

“Jeon Jungkook, stop laughing! This is not funny,” your attempt to be serious was blown away by your own wheezing.

“In my defense, you’re the impatient one,” he scrunched his nose with his lips jutted towards you. 

“You could’ve carried me to our bed!” you hissed.

Jungkook gives you a betrayed expression as he puts his hand on his chest. As if you’re accusing him of the crime both of you committed.

“Excuse me ma’am, I clearly remember you’re the one who chanted more baby, please I want you in me, now,” he mocked your moaning. Your face is in your palms as you keep shaking your head.

“I did not sound like that. Please, Jungkook at least tell me we did clean the desk.” Banging your head on his shoulder while he snorted. 

“Well, your welcome, because your amazing house-husband did cleaned the desk. You blacked out the moment we got into our bedroom. Meanwhile, your dutiful husband, wiped our crime scene clean with a hand sanitizer. I told you that sanitizer will come in handy.” This is one of the moments you’re so happy to have such a clean freak as your husband.

“Oh god, thank goodness!” You showered his cheek with kisses.

“But do we have to tell Taehyung though?” Biting your lower lip, you secretly wished he is as evil as you. Because you don’t want to freak Taehyung out.

Just as you thought, called it soulmate behavior, because Jungkook just shrug it off and said to not tell him and even if he did, Taehyung would understand anyway.

He had done a lot worse back in his college days and Jungkook have all the receipts as his roommates. 

Laughing softly you shakes your head. “Can’t believe we tainted Yuna like this. What kind of godparents are we? Unbelievable,” your eyes are getting droopy as the airplane breaking the clouds.

Jungkook is taking off his grey hoodie for you because you always catch cold easily, especially when travelling in an airplane. Thankfully he’s wearing a long sleeve shirt inside. 

He did reminded you to wear an extra layer but it seems like you forgot. Snuggling as close as you can, you sleep almost immediately with your head on his shoulder. Jungkook chuckled at the sight. You sleep so easily. Be it on the bed or in a moving car, you are unfazed.

The first time you went on a road trip together, you fell asleep even before Jungkook gets to drive out of the city. The road trip was a lonely one for him because you slept all the way. 

He is relieved, relieved that you laughed. You were fidgety and anxious with going back to your hometown before the flight and he is just really, really, really grateful that you had a good laugh just now.

He managed to take the stress off of your mind. Always.

“Where is she, do you think she forgot, Kook? Do we have to get an Uber? Ugh, why is she not picking up her phone?” Punching your phone with your thumb, you texted your cousin, asking on her whereabouts.

Not that you’re ungrateful for having her coming down to pick you and Jungkook from the airport, but it would be much easier if she told you beforehand if somehow she couldn’t make it. You would’ve requested an Uber and you’re probably would be home by now. 

“Babe, sit down, please. Maybe there’s a heavy traffic or maybe she left her phone or something. It’s not like we’re waiting for hours anyway. It’s not even an hour yet. So, will you please, don’t stressed out over this, hum?” Grabbing your hand, he patted on his lap, telling you to sit on him.

Engulfing his arm on your waist, he took a breath of your natural smell on your neck and leaving a kiss on the skin. For a married guy, Jungkook is still shameless with showing off his affection on you. Grabbing you, leaving kisses on your face, smelling you. To him it’s an announcement that this girl is mine. 

He sneak a peek on your unanswered texts to your cousin. Seeing you used a lot of emojis and silly meme stickers in your previous conversation with her as you’re scrolling down. 

Adorable ice queen. You rarely replied cute emojis with him. He pouts as he placed his chin on your shoulder. Feeling a little jealous with your cousin.

“No reply yet?” The vibrating sound from Jungkook tickles you but since you’re still stressing over the unanswered text, you ignored it.

He’s now feeling the jet lag starting to kick in. Resting his head on your shoulder, shutting his eyes. When he said you don’t even need a comfortable bed to sleep on, well, it is the complete opposite for him. He just needs you. 

A ping was heard indicating a new message on your phone, and you quickly checked it as a soft laugh coming out from your mouth. Laughing at the meme your cousin sent you. She apologized for not getting out of work earlier because now, she has to face the traffic.

As a truce for her mistake she bought you a dozen of your favorite donuts. 

Jungkook flinched and scrunching his eyes as he felt a movement from you.

“Hey. Sorry, baby.” You noticed the flinched and instantly place a kiss on his cheek. As a token of apology for waking him up. By the groggy grunts, you know he’s awake now. Guilt rushed in you because you know he hates jet lag as it always gets the best of him. You’re scratching his scalp as your other hand is still holding your phone.

“She’ll be here in ten. You’re right, she’s caught in a traffic jam.”

Jungkook just hummed at that because all he wanted right now is to lay down next to you and have a good sleep. Smiling at your husband, you keep scratching the back of his head.

A habit you gained from living with Jungkook. He purrs like a kitten full with milk every time you do that. With one hand you replied to your cousin to just step on the gas like a daredevil she is. 

Your cousin, Suri, is only one year older than you. She’s the mature cousin in many senses but it is always you who she runs to when life is being the big bad wolf.

Like the one when she had to tell her mom - your aunt, that she lost her earrings. They weren’t just any earrings, it was inherited by your grandmama. Being the curious rebel, Suri took them from her mom jewelry box and showing them off at school.

What a way to go when she lost them during recess. In panic, she dragged you and both of you spent hours searching for them in the school yard, at the field (she doesn’t even went to the field), at the cafeteria, basically every nook and cranny of your high school. 

Living just a few houses away, you and Suri were practically attached at the hip, always hanging out together after school, so nobody really questioned why you and Suri was late on that day.

The search was fruitless. Finally she decided to come clean at her mom, which was your earliest idea before the both you dipped your heads into the bushes.

Staying by her side, you comforted her by holding her hand. She was scared shitless and as expected she got a ‘good’ earful nagging from your lovely aunt. But you still stayed by her side, only leaving when she fell asleep, with wet pillow because of the tears and snot. 

Just like highschool, right now you feel the need to be by her side in facing the divorce of her parents. She acted like she was fine when you called last week, from her defeated voice, you know. You know her probably better than she knows herself. 

She was the one who found out that her dad is cheating on her mom. She kept it to herself for months. Months!

Not telling a soul because she’s giving her dad a time or a chance to make things right. Her dad, doesn’t even know his daughter knew. Perhaps she was in denial but not until she broke the news to you. You advised her that she should tell her mom.

Well, clearly she did took your advice because now everyone is here to support your aunt and your cousin. 

From far you can hear a screeching sound which you don’t have to listen carefully to know that it belongs to Suri. She’s loud. Even Jungkook is wide awake now. Blinking like Bambi with his big eyes, his hands are still on your hips. He looks so adorable you can’t help but planting kisses on his nose and his cheeks.

“I’m sorry you have to wake up now. I promise you will have the most wonderful rest at grandma’s. But for now we have to settle with Suri’s car, yeah?” Whispering softly as if you could break him if you speak too loud.

Jungkook just looks so fragile when woken up from a nap. You’re not sure if he managed to catch all the words you just said because he keeps blinking with a slightly parted mouth. You’re so tempted to kiss him silly when suddenly somebody tap your head from the back. It’s Suri. 

“Damn, did I just cockblocked you from kissing him?” She said with a smirk on her face. Her short hair really does look better in person, she was so unsure during your facetime, feeling it would make her head look big.

Getting up from Jungkook, you give her a tight bear hug.

Feeling ignored, Jungkook grabs the end of his hoodie that you’re still wearing.

“Oh Jungkook, my brother! How are you? Man, look at this healthy long black hair. What did you feed him? He looks more buff now” She patted his shoulder like he is her little brother, looking amused at his hair.

“Keep it longer boy, your wife has a long hair kink.” She sends you a wink as if whatever that she just spilled is normal. 

Jungkook tilt his head to you with a wide grin on his face.

“I know, she just doesn’t want to let go of them, her hair pulling game is getting stronger,” he chuckles. He noticed that you have become a lot more touchy especially on his hair ever since he let it grow, long enough to cover his eyes.

And not to mention how you keep on pulling them like your life is hanging on it during your heated sessions. Suri just clapped in amaze at Jungkook’s reply.

The ride was a peaceful one, perhaps Suri is as tired as you are. It's relatively far from the airport to your grandma’s.

You keep glancing out the window to stare at the view. The street is still so familiar with nothing much has changed. Sitting on the passenger seat, you’re devouring the donut from your favorite bakery like a madman because they’re still taste the same. You save some for Jungkook since he already passed out at the back seat. 

The picture of you sitting next to Suri surely brings back your young adulthood memories. Only now with an additional passenger at the back. 

You turn to check on him from time to time. He looks so adorable, you covered him with his hoodie after you took it off from you and his head leans on the window. Suri noticing you keep glancing back, smiles fondly.

“You can sleep with him at the back.” Suri breaks the serenity that lingered in the car.

“No, it’s fine. He’s fine.” Pulling your left leg closer until your knee reaches your chest. A habit of yours every time you’re in a car.

“Seriously, you keep glancing at him like a mom watching her baby sleeps. Does he really can only sleep with you being near to him though?” 

“Yeah, he told me he was completely fine with sleeping alone before he met me. But he couldn’t anymore now.” Smiling so wide you remembered the night Jungkook confessed that.

Suri cooed and dramatically clenched her fist on her chest. “He’s romantic. You used to despise these hopeless romantics” 

“Keyword, used to.” 

Both of you and Suri let out a small laugh, and the smile on her face faded before she let out a sigh. “I missed you. You have no idea how bad it was for me to deal with this shit all by myself.”

You put your hand on her shoulder to comfort her. You know it won’t bring much difference but what else can you do?

“My dad is so stupid, I’m telling you. He asked me to check for his PayPal account when his mistress is still texting him at that time. Imagine how fucked up it was for me? I had to pretend I saw none of her filthy texts.” Suri speaks in a low voice, sounded defeated. 

“I almost broke up with my boyfriend. I keep thinking his ‘I love you’s is as fake as my dad’s when he used it to my mom.” She rubs the bridge of her nose and you listen to her, letting her venting out all of the frustration that she couldn’t do through a video call.

“My mom acted like she’s fine and all. She told me she saw it coming. But she didn’t say shit because of me. How stupid. It’s not like I am a teenager. Hell, they should’ve part ways when we were in high school. At least I get to hang out with the kids from the ‘divorced parents’ club.” 

“No, you were banned from joining clubs because you made a bad joke to one of them kids." You’re trying to lighten up the mood. But it was an exaggerated statement.

“Fuck, yeah I forgot about that one. Well, ain’t I was a troubled child, the sign of a messed up parenting was already there,”

You laugh at that and as the laughter died down, Suri looks at Jungkook through the rear-view mirror for a few seconds before her soft gaze falls on you.

“I pray he treats you right, I pray that your love will never fade. I don’t think I want to get married, not now at least. Love sucks but seeing you two, Lilo, looking this happy, makes me wanna believe in it again.” 

“Lilo? I haven’t heard that nickname in a long time. You either sappy or drunk to call me that,” you giggles at your cousin. Intentionally ignoring the heavy mood because you hate it when your cousin is sad and brooding. Like she’s giving up.

“See, this is what I meant. You, was never serious about love, you hated it more than I do. I thought you’re pranking me when you told me about him. It was me who was in a long relationship but look who’s wearing the ring now,” she slightly punch your shoulder as the car stopped at the red light. 

Unbeknownst to you, the passenger in the back seat is listening to your conversations. 

Jungkook was half awake after he heard laughters and giggles coming from you and Suri. He wants to fall back to sleep but he decided to listen more when you told Suri he couldn’t sleep without you.

Jungkook blushed under his hoodie that he had to pulled to cover his face. He knows he shouldn’t eavesdrop on your conversations with your cousin. Since it sounded intimate when Suri talked to you in a low tone. 

But then again, he couldn’t bring himself to sleep after Suri called you Lilo. He never heard of that name before, and he made a mental note to ask you about it later.

He’s eager to listen more as you and Suri are talking about him right now. When Suri said she prays he treats you right, he wanted to profusely said yes, yes he always hope he’s treating you right. Always trying to be the right man for you, that’s all he wanna be. 

He couldn’t calm his wild heart when he heard his name coming from you, speaking softly.

“Jungkook, is so endearing. I’m sure he had it rough when he first met me. I was mean to him. I shut him out. But he keeps coming back, keep asking me to let him love me properly. Truthfully, at first I was annoyed. I told him he likes the idea of me, not the real me. I keep telling him that he would hate me at the end of the day,” you sigh, thinking back to the day you left him with a hurtful looks on his face. 

Jungkook is screaming internally. No I would never hate you, I can’t hate you. 

He wants to hold you so bad right now. Scrunching his eyes with a heavy exhale coming out of his nose. Jungkook knows his love story wasn’t the greatest love story ever told but it was the most beautiful journey he ever walked into.

From meeting you, getting to know you, rejected by you, multiple times, to the day you finally let him in. And he is still learning new things with you. His heart breaks a little when you think of it that way, because he never thought he had it rough, he never thought of you being mean to him. 

“But he accepts me, all of me. I have no idea how to love so he asked me to learn it together with him. Saying yes to marrying him probably seems reckless and rushing to some but out of so many unsure things in my life, being with him isn’t one of that. Now he has become my home, my wings, my lover” 

Jungkook teared up at your confession. You rarely are the first one to show affection but he knows. He always does. 

After almost an hour drive, Suri slowed the car on the familiar residency. Pulling up her car in front of the beige house, you straighten up your back as you can see a few cars already parked neatly, along the street to your grandma’s house.

The beige coloured wall looks new yet you still recognize it as the house you used to reside when you were a little girl. You noticed familiar figures. Looks like everyone’s here already.

You glanced back and saw Jungkook stretching his arm as his mouth widely opened with a yawn. Suri is already out of the car hugging your other cousins. You help Jungkook fixing his hair and coming out of the car together, before they practically swarms you and engulf you in a big hug. 

Jungkook can feel the warmth from the interactions he got. He really feels bad for not staying longer after the wedding. Otherwise he will get to know your family a bit better. He was awkward at first, but your uncles and aunts didn’t treat him like a stranger and everything that you’re stressed about for weeks disappeared into thin air.

The unnecessary thoughts you and Jungkook had about meeting your Grandmama also gone too. 

Grandmama loves him, she may be slightly senile as she couldn’t quite remember people but she is so comfortable with Jungkook. Oh your grandma, the wrinkles on her skin, her hearing and eyesight are starting to deteriorate.

The moment you walked into the door, you saw her on her favorite couch, kneeling next to her legs, you put your hands on her knees. Informing her that you have arrived safely. She couldn’t hear you properly so Suri told you to speak a little louder.

She hardly recognize you which breaks your heart but it’s partly your fault. You should’ve visited her often. 

Jungkook who was sitting next to you just looks at you and your grandma. Fondness filled in his eyes when he saw your thumb rubs circle on your Grandmama’s knee. 

An act Jungkook always does to you. You introduced Jungkook to her and ever as polite your husband his, he stretched out his both of his hands to your grandma. She held his hand as Jungkook told her that he is your husband.

“Lilo? Lilo’s husband?” Grandmama asking for a confirmation at Jungkook. Jungkook kneels closer to her because she hasn’t let go of his hand. With as much energy her frail body can give, she squeezes his hand. “Lilo, you happy?” Grandmama turns to you as her other hand patted your head.

“Yes, grandma. Very happy.”

Fighting the tears from rolling down your face. This whole situation is very emotional because it’s like she’s giving your marriage a blessing. You regretted for not coming earlier. Jungkook notices how emotional you’ve become and he gives you a reassuring smile.

“Lilo makes me happy, grandma. I’m sorry for not visiting you sooner,” Jungkook squeezed back your grandma’s hand and your heart swelled at him using your childhood nickname. 

The night went so well after the emotional reunion. 

The thing about your big family is nobody is left out. It’s loud because everyone get to talk. Even the shy Jungkook is included. Jungkook have no idea kids love him. The only little kids interaction he managed to survive is Yuna, Taehyung’s baby.

Watching from the kitchen window, you can see your cousin’s children are following him like ducklings, the sight is very endearing.

He is good with kids, he just didn’t know that. He has a lot of stamina to match up with the kids’ energetic nature. He had his rest on the way, and now he is walking around while holding an infant.

You instantly think that he would be an amazing dad. 

“Thinking of having one of those?” Suri speaks up from behind you. Her eyes glued on the kids chasing Jungkook at the yard.

Grandmama once told that Grandpapa wants a big yard for kids to run freely. Now it serves its purpose.

“We haven’t fully discuss about it yet, but we did talked ‘bout it” Your feel your stomach doing a back flip because the idea of mini you and Jungkook running around in the house, tiny hands and feet, giggles and gurgles are so, so, so tempting but you’re not sure if Jungkook wants that as much as you do.

Your marriage is still on the early stage. 

As if Suri can read your mind she turns to you to help you stacked up the clean plates. “What’s there to discuss? If you both want kids, then let it happen. I’m pretty sure Jungkook wants them as much as you do.” 

Biting your lower lip, thinking how should you break your desire to Jungkook. “Yea, I guess.” Turning off the faucet, you and Suri walks to the living room.

You and Jungkook decided to stay a night at your grandma’s before spending the rest of the week at your parents’ house. Jungkook feels like he has a lot to catch up with Grandmama. But since it’s already late into the night and Grandmama needs her rest, Jungkook would have to settle down with you and spend the day with her tomorrow. 

Jungkook was given a mini tour of the house before you stopped at your used to be bedroom. It wasn’t big now but it felt huge when you were a little kid. 

You took a shower first before Jungkook because that man takes forever when he’s in the bathroom. Seriously, he could spend an hour doing whatever it is inside it. 

After showering, you sprawl on the cozy bed. Looks like someone been tidying the room, you might have to ask Suri later. You turn around to face Jungkook who is sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Babe, c’mere please, I need you,” you groggily calling him. Jungkook chuckles softly as he crawls hastily to you. Like a dog being offered the bone. This sight could be mistaken as lust but right now, with his bunny grin and and bouncy long hair? He is just so adorable. 

“Okay Lilo, tell me, why am I just found out about Lilo now? Lilo?” Raising his brows as he hovers above you. You let out a soft giggles as you place your hands on his chest, creating a space between you and he pouted at that.

“Truthfully I forgot about that name. Because, only my closest family call me that.” Jungkook hums at that and you can feel the vibration from his chest.

“Back off Kook, you’re suffocating me.”

He whines when you pushed him but he clings back to you like a koala on your side. His legs trapping your legs as his hand sprawled on your stomach. 

“Why Lilo?” He speaks softly.

Confused at your husband sudden ministrations, your turns to face him. “Why are you suddenly so clingy?” You raise one brow to him before he tightens his hold on your stomach. Leaving wet smooches on your neck, your jaw and your cheek.

“Let me love my wife. Come on, you didn’t answer me. Why Lilo? Is it related to Lilo and Stitch?”

You place your hand on his cheek. 

"Yes, it is indeed related to Lilo and Stitch. They call me Lilo because I… Okay promise you won’t laugh first.” You giggle thinking about the silly reason behind your nickname.

“What, babe. Don’t keep me hanging. I won’t laugh.” 

Propping his hand, he grabs you closer. “Stop giggling, tell me.” Jungkook pinches your cheek with his other hand.

“It’s because I used to make voodoos with spoons. Just like Lilo.” You cover your face with your hands. Jungkook lets out the loudest laugh and after realizing that maybe you’re embarrassed by that, he toned it down a little.

“You promised you won’t laugh! Asshole." You smack his arm.

“I said I won’t laugh, I didn't promise anything,” he talks back at you while sticking his tongue out.

“Trying to be a smartass now? Get away from me, I’m sleeping with grandma” You wiggle your body so you could get out from his leg. He laughs even harder as he tightens his hold, not wanting to let you go.

“Awe but why? Tell me more? How did you do it, voodoo queen” 

Jungkook pulls your hands that covered your face, and he kisses the fingers and your palms.

“Kids were mean to me, telling me that my parents doesn’t love me, because I’m living with grandma and grandpa. So, coming home after school, I would grab a spoon and draw a face on it with crayons. Stop snickering Jungkook, it was so hard for me back then.” You pouted at him. 

“Awe I’m sorry, I’m sorry you had a rough childhood. My poor baby,” he patted your hair like he’s coaxing a child. “Who are they? Want me to beat them? I have black belt in taekwondo, let me use my strength.” He said with a serious face. He wouldn’t.

“Jungkook it was a long time ago, and we were kids,” you smile fondly at him, feeling protected though you know he has the softest heart of them all. 

“I forgot their names let alone their faces. Never choose violence, Kook, what if some kids bullied our babies, you're gonna beat them?” You trace your finger on his tensed brows, and they’re soften at your touch.

Actually his whole face softened and lit up simultaneously at your remarks.

“Our babies?" he utter. The words rolling on his tongue so smoothly.

"Say it again, love.” He nuzzles his nose on your neck. Oh, the idea of having a baby with you, drives him wild. 

You on the other hand is giggling at his actions, you’re a bit ticklish on your neck. And when he bites and sucks the sensitive skin, you let out a breathy moan “Our-babies”. Damn Jeon Jungkook.

“Kook,” you speak as softly as you can.

“Hmm,” he lapped on the abused area, purple and dark pink are subtly forming and surely they will be darker marks by tomorrow morning.

Still latching on your neck he pulls himself with one hand holding him up, the other hand is roaming your body. From your arms, to your belly, before settling by the hip. His thumb is caressing your soft skin.

His dark wavy locks is tickling your chin and you had enough, grabbing his face with both hands as you bring him closer. Noses touching and his lips are wet from biting, with hooded eyes but still carrying the fondness in them, his breathing is becoming more labored and so do you.

“We shouldn’t, Grandmama is sleeping next door,” you either telling that to him or to yourself because from the way you’re licking your lower lip, you don’t want him to stop.

Jungkook knows you, you wanted him to convince you that whatever you’re about to do is okay, he will be the bad guy for you.

“Grandmama’s hearing is a bit-” before he can finish you smacked his chest.

“Don’t say it, it’s the age factor. Don’t be so mean!” You whisper harshly.

“Ouch, okay I’m sorry, I shouldn’t put it that way, but she won’t wake up. We’re not gonna bother her." He assumed.

"So, you my darling, have to be quiet,” he smirks as he winks at you. 

“Yeah? Kiss me already,” you pulls him down so his lips crash on yours. It is lustful, it is messy, but Jungkook always takes it slow. He’s a bit sentimental when it comes to making love with you.

You’re so different, you want it hard. Biting his lower lip as you tug it, a silent pleading for him to move faster. He chuckles at your impatience.

“Always rushing, princess. I’m not going anywhere.” His tongue skillfully breaking into your mouth, dominating the kiss. You let him. Your hand which was on his neck now grabbing his hair.

Feeling his soft hair through your fingers before you pulled them. He moaned into your mouth and he pulls away, bearing his neck to you as he lets his head thrown back gravitating to your pull. Eyes closed and he looks like he’s high on ecstasy named you. “Ahhh princess-”

“Shh! Keep it down.” You immediately leaving marks on his neck and noticing the position is making you uncomfortable, you pushed him until he lays on his back. Straddling his lap, you dive back to his neck, continuing the abuse.

Jungkook can’t keep his hands to himself as he quickly pulling up your shirt with struggle as you’re both are chest to chest. He rested his palm on your belly before grabbing your breast. He kneads the soft flesh and it illicit another moan from you. What a sight for Jungkook. You arched your back and gasped at the feeling of his dick poking your ass. Hard. Shakily putting your hands on his chest, you grind on his dick. 

Jungkook almost cum in his pajama pants at this feeling. The view of you getting off on his clothed member, is making him insane. Your hips moving forward and backward making a tasty fraction, it feels good but it is not enough.

You keep biting your lips until it becomes swollen, and he swears he can feel you soaking your panties already with the wet feeling he felt. “Come on baby, cum like this,” He commands with a deep voice.

“Nnggh- Kook, I can’t- need you” You scrunch your eyes and your movements is getting slower. You’re exhausted.

“Yes, you can. Come on baby, come on.” Jungkook gritted his teeth as he can feel your ass snug his dick perfectly. Noticing that your movement is getting faltered, he grips on your hips, and helps you picking up the pace. Surely will leave another bruising marks there. You whimper because the sensation is overwhelming.

Feeling the knot under your stomach is getting tighter and your pussy keeps on clenching on nothing. Only letting out more gush of slick.

"Ahh Kook, close! I’m cumin-” the knot snapped and all you can see is white. Your breathing is getting more erratic before you completely fell down to his chest. He rubs you back lovingly but his hard dick is still poking you.

Jungkook prioritize your desire first before his and he kisses your head softly. With limping hands you got up pressing his chest once again.

“Take it off, take it all off,” your fingers grabbing the hem of his shirt and pull the material off while he frantically pushing down his pants and his boxer. He helps you taking off your bra as well before he starts swirling his lips on your perk nipple.

A tug and you moan deliciously, he moves on to you other nipple, paying as much attention as he did with the first one. He throw off your pants and panties and god knows where they lands in this room. 

Pulling you up, he leans on the headboard. He instantly plunged two fingers into your hole and you’re clenching so hard, making he whines. It’s starting to get hot and steamy as you two letting out breathy moan. Still straddling him, you blindly grab his dick with your hand, pumping it up and down.

“Enough, just wanna be inside you, now!” Jungkook aligned his member to your hole. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you slowly sinking down on him.

Choking and moan in unison as you both adjust to the position. With head thrown back, you sob because Jungkook is big and no matter how many times you fuck, it still feels like your first time. 

Sensing your discomfort he stays still.

“Kook, why are you so big?” You’re mumbling incoherent words.

“Yeah? I’m big? Taking my cock so well. Fuck, baby, you’re so tight. Come on baby, bounce on my cock” he grunts as your walls keeps on fluttering. His rolling hips and his dirty talks are making you seeing stars. A whining mess and your cunt is clenching him like a vice.

“Stop clenching so hard baby, I might cum soon, we don’t want that, right?” he warns with a bite on your shoulders and he switches the position with you now laying on your back, dick still hard inside you.

He keeps up the pace and moaned so loud as he can see the way his dick pistons in and out of your pussy.

“Creamed so hard on my cock, baby, you’re so wonderful.” His hands on your waist with your heels digging his ass.

“Faster, faster. Please, please, please,” you’re chanting, ignoring that somebody might hear you because Jungkook is hitting it right. 

The squeaking bed and the loud skin slap are echoing in the room.

So much of keeping quiet.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful. Baby, let’s have kids, huh. Let’s have them,” he spreads his palm on your lower belly. Already thinking you carrying a child, his child, how you would look like with a swollen belly.

Fuck, motherhood would look good you. With that thought he trusts harder and faster. You whine and scratch his back as the pace was intensified. Jungkook hiss on both sensation, the sting on his back and how your walls grip his dick tighter at the mention of having a kid.

“Yes, yes, yes. Let’s have a baby- nnnghh Kook, shit shit” Your body jolted when Jungkook suddenly flicks his thumb at your clit. Pushing you to the edge. And you trashed so wild under him as you feel your bliss is approaching.

“Cumming- Baby I’m cumming nghhh Kook, don’t stop” letting him know before you finally let go. Feeling buzzed as Jungkook keep on trusting in and out of you, dragging your high.

“Gonna cum in so deep, gonna make make you swole with a baby. Mine, mine, all mine” Jungkook chanted as his pace is getting sloppy, chasing his own high. Warm ribbons of cum spurted inside your pussy as you milk him dry. 

The only sounds that you’re hearing right now is a buzzing, and how you two are breathing so heavily. He falls down next to you with his arm snaking around your waist. His breathing is fanning your neck before he left a kiss on your cheek. You're pushing his hair back from his sweaty forehead while he also helps you with your untangled hair.

“I’m serious,” Jungkook grabs your chin to make you look at him. Gone already the lust and the dark in his eyes, now replaced with pools of galaxies.

“About having a baby?" You asked.

"Yeah, me too,” you smile sweetly at him and he grins so wide, if you could list the most beautiful look on Jeon Jungkook’s face, one of it was when you said yes after he proposed. When you walked down the aisle, your first sex with him, and right now.

“Thank you, baby. You have no idea how happy I am right now,” he kisses your whole face.

“I thought you don’t want kids yet, since, well, since we never really discuss about it seriously.” You said softly, putting your head on his chest with finger tracing the skin. In contrast to your heated session, after sex is always soft and calm.

“You silly, of course I want them. I thought you’re the one who is not ready yet, because yea, I never wear condom whenever we made love, but you’re always on the pills, so I assumed you don’t want one, yet, and I also don’t wanna push you,” he whispers softly. You sigh, the way he uses the words “made love” and not sex. Instead of ‘let’s fuck’ it’s ‘let me love you’, and how can you not keep falling for this man. He is disgustingly nerdy and sweet and lovely.

“I will consult my doctor for the pills and we start from there okay?” You glance up, making a promise to him and he nods excitedly like a child.

“Come on up, pee-pee first. Always pee after love making.” Jungkook patted on your bare ass before he got up to carry you to the bathroom. 

Usually you’re woken up everyday to a big pair of warm hands rubbing circles either on your back or on your belly. Some mornings, the same hands just played with your head, the long fingers ran through the hair with a little pressure. Massaging the scalp. Some mornings, the hands get extra playful when they tickled your nose, your neck, your waist, poking the inside of your ears or pinched your cheeks.

These assaults always resulted in the owner of the hands winning. How can you beat the strength of a man with doe eyes, silly bunny grins and his boyish laugh?

His laugh booming in the room like a heavenly sound. But today, you woke up on your own. No hands. No head massage. No tickles.

Where is your husband? Is he showering? There’s no sound of water hitting the tiles. His phone is still charging by the bedside, he never let go of his phone. Strange. 

You freshened up before you leave the room to check on grandmama. But she’s not in her room too, well, considering the time and she’s an early riser, she’s probably somewhere around the house anyway.

Just as you thought you were left alone, you heard a very familiar giggles. They come from the outside of the house, and your feet are following the sounds.

A smile adorns on your face as you can see the backs of the most important people in your life sitting side by side. Both of them are facing the backyard garden.

You come closer and you can clearly see her wrinkled hands on top of his. He pulled his head back and laughing like a little kid, while she held onto his hands lovingly. Her laugh, though soft, can be heard along with his. 

You wanted to soak this moment in your brain so you could remember this for years and years. How the morning sunshine makes everything more picturesque, how his broad shoulders shakes when he laughs, how she leans on a chair, as old as she is.

Her brown chair, bought along with his husband’s big chair. The spot which was left empty ever since he passed away, and you wonder how lonely it is for her to be sitting there alone every morning and every evening.

You stood silently by the sliding door, not wanting to break the moment as so many sentimental memories flooding your mind. 

“Hey, babe? Good morning,” said the man as he turns around to face you. Wide smile on his face, post-laughing puffy cheeks.

“Good morning, Lilo” said another voice as she struggles to turn around. You don’t want her to strain her back so you immediately move to sit next to her legs. Kneeling closer like you always did, like a little girl listening to her favorite stories, you place your palm on her knees.

“Good morning, Grandmama. You had a good sleep?” Still not used to speaking louder to her. Brushing your hair she smiles fondly, “yes, yes”

“Where’s my good morning?” Pouted the man next to her. 

“Yes, Jungkook. Good morning to you too,” you roll your eyes playfully. 

If it’s not Grandmama’s hands holding him, Jungkook would have touched you, peppering you with kisses because it is his morning routine. 

But he woke up early today, because he guessed Grandmama is already up and he wanted to spend time with her. He was right, the moment he stepped out of the room, Grandmama was walking slowly to the chair outside of the house.

The lady who Jungkook assumed as the maid which Suri told you about last night, is plating a tray of toast and tea for her. 

Jungkook moves to help Grandmama settles on her chair before she insisted him to sit next to her. 

“That’s Grandpapa’s chair.” You jutting your chin at him, whispering but he can still hear you.

“Really?” Jungkook flustered because Grandmama really insisted him to sit on it and now knowing that this seat belongs to Grandpapa, he feels even more honored. 

“What are you two laughing about just now?” You glanced up to face your grandma with big eyes. Grandmama just chuckles and you can see your husband is biting his lips trying to hold back his laughter.

“Just, reminiscing old memories, sweetheart,” Grandmama replied. 

“Apparently, someone really hates wearing pants since she was a little girl. Humm, Grandmama did you know she still refuses to wear pants sometimes?” Jungkook leans closer to Grandmama’s ears as if they both are sharing some secrets. Pretending that you’re not even there.

With shocking wide eyes and gaping mouth, you knew exactly who is that little girl. It’s you. Grandmama just told Jungkook about your unhealthy habit, great, now Jeon Jungkook can collect another material into his teasing box.

“Did not!”  You gasp and giving your Grandmama a betrayal look. 

“What was she’s like back then? Running around naked? She’s a wild one isn’t she?” Both of them are ignoring you and Jungkook keep on firing questions to Grandmama.

You’re pretty sure the blush on your cheeks are from controlling the anger you have towards your husband right now. Definitely not because of embarrassing. Nope.

Seeing Grandmama laughing at both of you is making your heart swell. Your eyes land on her hands that has been holding Jungkook’s ever since you saw them. You were worried for nothing, and guilt is starting to creep on you as you were initially do not plan on bringing Jungkook along. 

Because first, you’re worried for him. Jungkook is not used to your family which is again, your fault. You didn’t properly introduce him to your family, not traditionally-proper. It’s not like you’re breaking the norms or rebelling or anything. It’s just you don’t feel that is necessary.

As long as you love each other, that’s all that matters. But you worried nevertheless. Worried they might not include him, what if Jungkook is uncomfortable because, dear god, Jungkook will never let you know if he’s feeling bothered. Very much like you, now taste your own medicine.

Secondly, it’s Grandmama, she has never met Jungkook, and yes, she is lovely but what if she suddenly doesn’t approve of him? That would break his heart. 

Now you realize that you’re worried for nothing, everyone loves him. How can they not? 

“I wanna take a short nap, you two can stay here.” Your Grandmama reaches for her cane as her wobbly legs trying to stand up. The maid rushed out to help her before Jungkook was about to carry her himself.

“You don’t have to carry and old lady like me, just carry your wife,” your Grandmama chuckles as she slowly walks back to her room. 

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck and sigh, he doesn’t mind carrying Grandmama. He once saw his dad carried his grandma on his back and he wanted to do that too. Shifting his gaze back on you who is still staring at him.

“Hey, the girl who hates pants,” Jungkook smirks cheekily. Here comes your Jungkook. “Wow I have no idea you hate pants. No wonder you don’t wanna wear one all the time. Oh wow,” he faked gasp at the fact. Mocking you.

“I will burn all of your pants the moment we got back, Kook,” words are seething through your teeth as you faked threatening him. 

“I don’t mind that, we can be pant-less together,” Jungkook leans back to the chair as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath of the morning air. 

You're sitting next to him, only managed to stare at his beauty.

“Stop staring and come closer, please. I’m yours, you can touch me.” He said. Of course he caught you staring at him.

“I didn’t stare!” You blush.

“Put your head on my shoulder. Let me bask in this glory morning with my wife,” Jungkook speaks softly as he pulls your head closer to his shoulder. And you let him.

Feeling his steady breathing, cold cups of tea, half eaten toast, his humming of an unknown song, his hands on top of yours, a kiss on your head, and you really deeply seriously madly in love with this man. 

“By the way, Grandmama heard us last night, she said good job and she wants to see great-grandchildren real soon,” Jungkook said in a monotonous voice as if it’s nothing. 

Well, shit.

[darkmatilda]

𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you thought that after a certain misunderstanding, your relationship had taken on a purely platonic and friendly form but then the investigation sent you to the freezing wilderness of alaska, where every night you find warmth in his bed.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x fem!bau reader, the same reader as in my story "the bolter" but it's not necessary to read it before! there are no major references, but people who have read it might treat this as a continuation (if they want to). in this story, we still have our wonderful queen elle greenaway, gideon and morgan, and many of my attempts (not always successful) at being funny. mostly smut with A LOT of plot, description of the case, oral (f receiving) and some much actions but described in a subtle way. a little bit of angst, but I wouldn't be myself if I didn't add some. again, GLASSES REID!!

𝐚/𝐧: first fic at the beginning of the month, i really wanted to post it today. i think it's time to start posting christmas-themed works? would you be interested? by the way, i hope december will treat you kind <3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 11k

“I’m freezing, God, I’m freezing.”

“Me too, look how I’m shaking, I swear, one more hour and my feet will fall off, and then my toes…”

“Guys, for god’s sake!” Morgan finally spoke up, his voice tinged with impatience. The hood of his waterproof, windproof jacket covered almost half of his face, and even so, he was clearly the lightest dressed of all of them. “We’ve landed.” He pulled off a glove to check his watch. “Just under fifteen minutes ago. You still don’t know shit about freezing, so stop complaining like a bunch of old women in a knitting cycle…”

“I’d love to be an old lady in a knitting circle right now,” you sighed, your breath immediately turning to steam. You exchanged a look with Reid, who was freezing just as much as you were, and together, you had been driving Derek crazy with your whining. You all had similar gear, thermal layers, and jackets designed for extreme conditions, but it still wasn’t enough. “Sitting by the fireplace, knitting a sweater. Gossiping with other retirees.”

“Exchanging gingerbread recipes,” Spencer suggested, his tone just as wistful.

“And sharing tips for dealing with worms in our cats’ anuses,” you added.

“I’m done," Derek muttered.

Your work often sent you to various corners of the United States, but it rarely involved Alaska. Well, due to the state’s relatively low population density compared to others, fewer crimes were committed there, especially at the federal level.

However, in recent weeks, strange disappearances had occurred—teenagers and young men. Their bodies were found in remote areas, deep in the forest or in completely uninhabited wilderness, places so isolated that even an experienced survivalist would struggle to find their way out.

The local police, as local police often do in most criminal cases, initially pretended there wasn’t a problem, insisting the victims had died as a result of tragic accidents, simply getting lost during a hike. But when the number of deaths began to rise, and the victims included even high school students—locals who were well aware of the dangers of wandering alone after dark in such perilous areas—the case landed on JJ’s desk.

And so, you found yourselves in the brutally frigid surroundings of Fairbanks, heading toward the inn where you were supposed to drop off your things and immediately dive into the investigation.

"The temperature this week is going to range from 15 to 5 degrees Fahrenheit," Spencer informed you over his shoulder as he opened the car trunk to retrieve the luggage. "Of course, that's during the day. At night, it’ll drop as low as -4 degrees."

Elle shivered as he handed her her bag.

"I was doing just fine without those numbers," she said, nudging you lightly with her shoulder—a touch you barely felt through the thick layers of clothing. "What do you say we make up for this with a New Year’s trip? Mallorca? The Himalayas?"

"I’m dreaming of the Caribbean," Morgan chimed in. "Beaches, sunshine, and cocktails—that’s what I’ll be dreaming of tonight."

"And half-naked sunbathers," you added.

"And half-naked sunbathers," he agreed with a grin.

Elle trudged ahead, sinking into the snow up to her calves. The inn was a sizable wooden building, adorned with balconies and terraces that, given the weather, likely went unused, though they added considerable charm. It was tucked away in a secluded spot, offering privacy and a peaceful atmosphere—ideal for work.

You lingered by the car, waiting for Reid to grab his things, unwilling to leave him behind.

“Do you know much about the northern lights, Rudolph?” you teased, nodding toward his red-tipped nose. “I’ve always dreamed of seeing them.”

“Well, then you’re in luck,” he replied, looking at you with a slight smile. “We’re in one of the best places to see them, during the season with the longest nights. They’ll be visible pretty early, though the most stunning views will probably happen between ten at night and two in the morning. I’ve always wanted to see them in person too.”

"So, what do you think?" you asked, raising your eyebrows. "Midnight, at my door, and we’ll go play aurora hunters?"

You shivered just at the thought. Of course, you were joking—there was no way you'd even stick a single hand out from under the covers at this hour with those freezing nighttime temperatures. You planned to admire the beautiful phenomenon from your room window. Warm, you hoped.

"Alright. Just make sure you bundle up,"

 "Sure. Thermal thong and all that."

Your room was on the same floor as Elle's and JJ's, and you were glad to have them just behind the next door. Unpacking took you only a minute, and within that time, you were all together, sitting as a team, going through the case files.

“These boys were so young,” JJ remarked, shaking her head with a hint of dread. “Sixteen, the youngest, twenty-four, the oldest. They were found in such remote locations that if it hadn’t been for the ongoing professional search and the dogs, who knows how long it would have taken before anyone stumbled upon their bodies.”

“Given the heavy snowfall, they might not have been found until the thaw. What do their parents and families say about all of this?” Hotch asked.

“Unanimously, they believe their kids would never have ventured that far on their own. This is where the mystery starts, though, because there were no wounds on their bodies, except for the ones they inflicted on themselves in their attempts to survive in the cold.”

“So, it looks like someone kidnapped them, drove them out to a place you’d never get out of without serious survival skills, and just left them to die?” Derek asked, baffled.

“Seems that way. Yesterday, an eighteen-year-old named David Moore was reported missing. Normally, it probably would have been classified as a delayed return home or maybe a runaway, and the police wouldn’t have even taken the report. But given the current circumstances and the rising panic among the locals, his parents decided not to wait. A wise decision.”

"How many hours has it been since he went missing?" you asked, running your own grim calculations in your head. "Around eight, right? Is it even possible for him to survive the night out there in these conditions?"

"That depends on what he was wearing and the specific location where he was left," Reid explained, thoughtfully cleaning the lenses of his glasses. You realized it had been a while since you’d seen him wearing them—he used to wear them daily, but lately, it was only on occasion. For a moment, you found yourself staring at his face, liking how the dark frames suited it.

"His parents believe he was likely abducted on his way home from tutoring," Elle noted, flipping through the case file. "People around here dress warmly as a habit, but even so, I doubt his everyday clothes would be particularly suited to weather like this. At night. In the middle of the woods."

An uncomfortable silence followed her words, broken only by Hotch clearing his throat.

"Anyway, we need to join the ongoing search efforts. We’ll be more useful out in the field than trying to build a profile with the scraps of information we have. I’m not sure if I need to remind you, but out of habit, I will: be cautious and don’t, under any circumstances, stray from the search group. They know this area."

Before you all moved out to get to work, Reid shot you a fleeting glance. Like a dad, you mouthed silently, and he let out the faintest chuckle. You both enjoyed spotting those unmistakably parental tendencies in your boss, though they were directed at you and the rest of the team.

Hours of searching had, unfortunately, yielded no results—the crushing pressure of time bore down on you all. The knowledge that each passing moment was stripping this boy of his chances for survival felt almost unbearable. If he had somehow managed to survive the first eight hours in the forest, sixteen seemed an increasingly unlikely feat.

And yet, hope lingered. The group, driven by his distraught family, refused to stop, likely continuing to scour the area despite warnings. Meanwhile, you stood in your hotel room, so close to the window that the cold glass brushed against your nose.

Your thoughts were consumed by the case and the fate of the teenager. Just as Reid had said, the sky was illuminated by that breathtaking greenish glow. Watching it felt almost surreal, and you wanted to take in as much of it as your eyes could hold.

If it weren’t for the fact that you had frozen to your very core during the search, you might have stepped outside to see it more clearly. 

Just as the thought crossed your mind, there was a knock at your door.

You furrowed your brow, not expecting anyone. When you opened it, you came face to face with none other than Spencer. Well, it was hard to tell it was him at first. He was bundled up so tightly in layers of warm clothes that his body lost its natural shape and resembled more of a puffy ball than a person.

"Hey," he greeted awkwardly, raising his hand hesitantly and scanning your appearance from head to toe. "You're not ready yet. Sorry, I think I came too early. I thought we were meeting at midnight..."

"We were meeting?"

"For the northern lights hunt, you forgot? I checked the Kp index, it's a measure of aurora activity that determines its intensity, and it turns out tonight is really favorable... wait, why are you laughing?"

His furrowed brows and face, barely visible in the dimly lit hallway but clearly confused, only made you laugh harder. Shaking your head in disbelief, you covered your smile with your hand.

"Spencer, I was joking," you said, suddenly feeling guilty that your sarcasm had led him to spend time and effort preparing for a night out. "There’s no way I'm going out in this cold. I’d rather dive headfirst into boiling water, at least that would be warmer."

“Oh,” he let out a short, disappointed sigh. He quickly nodded, as if trying to accept the situation, and forced a more neutral expression. “I—I really thought you were serious. Sorry for... for waking you up, then.”

For a moment, you stood in silence, your hand resting on the doorframe. An odd, unexpected thought sprinted through your mind. It had been such a long time since the two of you had been together like this, late at night, in the same room...

“Well, in that case,” he cleared his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I’m sorry again. Let’s just pretend this didn’t happen, okay? Forget I came here and embarrassed myself. That’s all. Sorry. I should probably go if I want to avoid being completely sleep-deprived tomorrow...”

“Go where?” you interrupted, suddenly standing straighter, alarmed.

“Aurora hunting.”

“By yourself? Spencer, have you lost your mind?”

He opened and closed his mouth, caught off guard by your outburst.

“Well, I don’t know when I’ll ever get another chance like this, being in the Arctic Circle...”

“It’s pitch dark and freezing cold. You don’t know the area—”

“...I’ve had a chance to look around, and I’m not going far. There’s a small hill just behind the inn—”

“...And there’s a freaking serial killer on the loose around here, did you forget?”

“Well, I have a gun.”

“Well, I’m not letting you go,” you cut him off firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. Spencer tilted his head, clearly ready to argue further, but before he could speak, you added, “Give me five minutes.”

“What?”

“Five minutes to get dressed. I’m coming with you.”

At first, you could have sworn a faint smile flickered across his lips. But then, just as quickly, he shook his head vehemently.

“No, really, you don’t have to. Not just because of me. I’ll be fine…”

"Five minutes," you repeated once more, slightly flustered and trying not to dwell on the fact that the moment you stepped outside, you’d likely regret this decision. “Wait here. Or come inside—I don’t want to shut the door in your face.” As you spoke, you opened the door wider, inviting him in.

Without wasting another second, you headed straight for your suitcase. Okay, how many layers does one need for a night outside in Alaska?

“I actually bought a set of thermal underwear specifically for this case,” you said, pulling out the essentials from your bag. Most of what you’d worn during the day would work fine, but you debated adding an extra sweater and another pair of socks. “And, oh my God, I hate it. I’d rather wear lace thongs 24/7 than spend more than eight hours in this bugger.”

You glanced subtly over your shoulder, curious to see his reaction and waiting for his reply. It wasn’t like you wanted to embarrass him, but you absolutely adored how, in response to even your most suggestive remarks, he could always respond with complete seriousness—like he was dissecting some profound issue. Judging by the furrow of his brow, this time would be no different.

“Really? You know, thermal underwear is generally associated with comfort. The fabric is typically elastic, soft, and breathable. High-quality models are even seamless, so they don’t cause any chafing. Maybe you bought a poorly fitted one?”

“Maybe. I don’t know, I have no expertise in this area. It digs in so much, though, and I have to keep myself from adjusting it. Can you imagine me sticking my hand in my pants right in front of the missing boy’s family?”

He hesitated before responding.

“Not really. But I can picture Hotch’s face.”

“And I can picture a termination notice on my desk the next day,” you quipped.

You grabbed all the clothes you had gathered and disappeared into the bathroom to layer them on. It wasn’t a quick job—by the end, you felt like your movements were completely restricted by the weight of it all—but at least you were prepared. When the first merciless blast of Alaskan air brushed against the tiny exposed part of your face, it didn’t immediately make you want to run back inside screaming. 

Instead, you sighed in awe.

"I know I’ve invoked God's name a hundred times already, but God, this is beautiful," you said, feeling your own words too inadequate to describe the miracle above your heads. The streaks of light stretching across the sky, an intense green with a certain transparency, a glassy quality, the stars peeking through it all.

 Spencer turned to you over his shoulder. He was only a couple of steps ahead, but he kept doing it as if afraid that in a moment of not seeing you, you'd fall into the snow and disappear forever.

“Wait until we get to the spot,” he said, his smile clearly excited. In his dark eyes, the light seemed to reflect and stay there, even when he blinked, as though he had already absorbed it all deep inside. “It’s only ten minutes away, but it makes a difference.”

"I hope you're not one of those people who says, 'Oh, it's just around the corner, we don't need a cab!' and then leads you to walk halfway across the city" you scoffed. You tried to keep your gaze fixed on his back, his lantern swinging in his hand. Alaska, the vast empty terrain, the thick layers of snow, seemed to hide some sort of mystery beneath them, and it filled you with a fair amount of fear. "Will you shield me with your chest if a bear jumps out at us?"

"Actually, yes, I would," he replied. "But not because of heroism, it's more because I have bear spray in my pocket, and by that very fact, it's probably my duty."

"Okay, let’s make a deal: you protect us from a potential bear attack, and I’ll take care of Bigfoot. By the way, that legend never really scared me. A monkey with gigantic feet just sounds too ridiculous to me. Remember that episode of History's Mysteries that we watched at your place?"

You both shared a love for a certain TV show about conspiracy theories and famous mysteries from around the world.

 "Of course. You know part of it was filmed right here in Fairbanks? Bigfoot never really fascinated me either, but I liked that at the end of the episode they also mentioned other Alaskan legends. Like The Kushtaka, for example."

"I don't remember that. But I'm not sure I want you to tell me," you confessed, taking a breath, the cold biting into your lungs. Despite the layers of clothing, it was getting colder and colder, but at least you'd finally reached the spot Spencer had chosen. He was right; the vast plain on the small hill was perfect for watching the aurora. You had the feeling that the sky was only an inch above your head, and a childlike urge to reach up and touch it. "Alright, you've got me too intrigued. Go ahead."

You noticed that, unlike you, Spencer wasn't tilting his head back to gaze at the sky. He was looking at you.

"The Kushtaka is a creature from the folklore of the surrounding tribes. It is most often described as a hybrid of a human and an otter..."

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

"Otters, seriously? Is that supposed to chill me to the bone?"

Spencer raised an eyebrow in a somewhat sarcastic manner.

"Okay, let me tell you the story differently," he proposed in a similar tone, swallowing as if to prepare himself for the tension-building drop in his voice. "Just like now, we're heading out to see the northern lights. Just the two of us, surrounded by nothing but darkness. The sky is overcast that day, and there’s hardly any light to see." At that moment, he switched off the flashlight he was holding, and his previously well-lit face faded into obscurity. You crossed your arms over your chest, silently promising yourself you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being scared.

“In this story, do my thermal undies also ride up so uncomfortably?”

“Your underwear isn’t a significant part of this tale. Anyway… crap, where was I?”

“The thought of my underwear distracted you?”

You heard him sigh, almost in exasperation, and a sly smile spread across your face.

“Let me continue. No more comments about underwear.”

“My underwear or in general?”

“SO WE’RE HEADING TO SEE THE NORTHERN LIGHTS. It’s dark, it’s creepy, and you’ve got chills running down your spine. Then suddenly, you realize you’ve lost me.”

“Phew,” you exhaled with theatrical relief. “Finally got rid of that creep who kept obsessing over my underwear.”

"You know what, I’m done. I’m done. I won’t tell you the story about the human-otter hybrid."

“I’m devastated by this fact!” you assured him in the same overly dramatic tone. Taking it a step further, you jumped toward him, desperately grabbing the fabric of his jacket. “Dr. Reid, please, I beg you, tell me about the human-otter hybrid. I need this. I’ll sell my soul and body, just please…”

Spencer threw his head back, laughing, and as you tried to calm yourself down, you leaned against him. Taken by surprise, he lost his balance, sending both of you toppling into the snow.

“Damn, we’re going to be wet!” he groaned, trying to get up from the deep snowdrift you both had fallen into. It wasn’t the easiest task with all the layers of clothing and a girl who was dying of laughter on top of him.

“I think that’s enough of our aurora watching,” you said once you both finally managed to get back on your feet. Despite the ski pants and very, very warm clothes, you were starting to feel frozen. “And enough of your legends. It’s late, and we should head back.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” he complained, sounding like a little puppy that had been scolded for peeing on the carpet.

“You can tell me on the way,” you replied. “Come on.”

You sent one last glance toward the sky before moving forward, your mind focused entirely on the vision of a hot, soothing bath and a blanket with an extra layer for warmth. For the rest of the walk, Spencer didn’t try to use his low voice or mysterious narrative tone. He finished the story in his usual manner, sounding more like a fascinated lecturer. You couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed—he had sounded really sexy earlier, you had to admit.

When you both got back to the guesthouse, you glanced at the stairs leading up to your room and shook your head in refusal.

“If I don’t get under at least five blankets right this second, I’m going to die, so sorry my dear, but I’m coming to you and I won’t leave until I’m warm, or I’ll never leave at all,” you said quickly and firmly.

Spencer raised an eyebrow but replied just as energetically.

“I don’t think I have five blankets in my room.”

“Three will be fine.”

And that's exactly how it went. First, you took off your jackets, and then, in your typical everyday clothes, you quickly jumped into bed, covered with the duvet up to your neck, waiting for the pleasant warmth to spread across your bodies.

“Was seeing the aurora worth all that suffering?' you asked, turning onto your side in bed so you could face him.

'Well, it wouldn't have been suffering if someone hadn't shoved both of us into the snow...'

He said this while lying on his back, but shortly after these words, he followed your lead and also turned onto his side. Your breath became shallower. It had been almost a year since you last had him this close, almost a year since you slept together, and then decided to let the situation fade into oblivion.

Honestly, you almost succeeded. After all, that incident was like every other encounter you had with guys. Spontaneous, one-time, followed by bolting. But you didn’t see those other guys afterward. Every day at work, forced to watch him wipe his glasses, his damn glasses, with the same fingers he…

“Are you thinking about something specific?” he suddenly asked, his voice eerily similar to the one he used to tell you the story on the hill, a voice you found so sexy.

That was the kind of man Spencer Reid was. Always wanting to know what was going on inside your head.

You sighed, probably too loudly.

"You don't want to know what I'm thinking right now," 

You felt a little pathetic, realizing that your whole excuse about not being able to go to your room was just a pretext to end up in his bed. Once again. This whole trip to Alaska must have really messed with your head. Or maybe it cleared the fog in your mind and left a single thought, naked and defenseless. You wanted him. 

"I know how pathetic that sounds, but I always want to know what you're thinking," he replied after a moment, swallowing audibly. You heard it clearly, you were so close. So close...

You had to make a quick decision: whether to continue and face the consequences the next day, or, perhaps worse, to be rejected? It was possible that he had learned from your last time together, and didn’t want to get involved with you that way.

"I can show you what I'm thinking," you finally proposed, not blinking for a long moment, just carefully studying the features of his face, any signs of uncertainty or tension. 

Because there was that one small seed of probability that he wanted you too.

His lips parted, but were immediately covered by your kiss. 

Slow and curious. How did he taste after all this time? 

Maybe it was a thought whispered by the moment, but you had the feeling that even better. 

You didn’t play the role of a taster for too long. Soon, still not pulling his lips away from yours, you lifted yourself into a sitting position, propping yourself up with your elbow on the bed, pressing closer to him with every passing moment, more intensely and hungrily. 

Something seemed to haunt you, preventing you from moving any further. Something in his posture—lying on his back, surrendered to your control, yet somehow absent.

You pulled away from his lips, your gazes meeting. There was a certain weakness and sadness in his eyes.

"Is something wrong?" you managed to ask, your voice strangely trembling.

Spencer suddenly sat up, straightening himself, though there was still a slight bend in his shoulders. His movement forced you to pull away from his chest.

"I can't do this," he confessed quietly, taking a deep breath. "I can't sleep with you." In a way, it hurt more than if he had simply refused to let you kiss him. Your forehead furrowed in disappointment and... shock?

"Why?" you asked directly, foregoing any excuses about not aiming for that. Because you had been.

He let out a laugh, filled with pity.

"Because after this, I won’t be able to stop thinking about you. And you, after tonight, won’t want me anymore."

You were breathing heavily, completely unsure of what to say. His words were painfully eye-opening, first and foremost. And secondly... true. Because did you plan, like a normal person, to wake up next to him, greet him, date him? That wasn’t how you operated. In your plans, there was always just one option—escape. Exactly like that time.

You slowly began to slide off the bed, his hand moved to reach for yours, and you hoped he would take it, but at the last moment, he hesitated. He hesitated.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," you reassured him, yet you didn’t look at him the whole time. You sounded stiff, almost reproachful, even though you were the one who should be reproached. You were the problem.

You looked around the floor, used to picking up your clothes from it, but this time there was nothing. Except for the jacket hung up and the ski pants you’d pulled on over your regular ones to avoid freezing in the cold night. Leaving without a word seemed excessive.

Your back rested against the door as you turned to look at him. Your quick-thinking mind raced, searching for something to say to at least salvage some dignity in this situation…

“Let’s pretend this didn’t happen,” you finally suggested.

Spencer was still sitting on the edge of the bed, as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to get up or stay there. Eventually, it seemed like he stayed, though you weren’t sure, having already turned toward the door, your hand pressing on the doorknob.

“T-think that’s the best solution,” he admitted, just as one of your feet stepped into the hallway.

Then, you heard someone whistling.

You immediately stepped back into his room, keeping your face turned toward the door.

“Damn, it’s Morgan,” you said, recognizing the person in the hallway by the sound alone. “We better not let him see me leave, or he’ll never leave us alone…”

You expected that when you turned around, you’d find him still sitting on the bed. After all, you hadn’t heard him get up, hadn’t heard him approach. You certainly didn’t expect that, when you turned, his lips would almost immediately attack yours.

It was so unexpected, so sudden, that the back of your head slammed against the door.

“Fuck, sorry…”

But you didn’t think for a second about the pain, nor did you focus on why Spencer had suddenly changed his mind. Your attention was solely on the two of you, two desperate pairs of lips pressing together and pulling apart, never staying away for long.

He pulled you toward him, wrapping his arms around your waist. Unlike the last time, it was your back that hit the mattress first. The cool surface, the heated bodies, and the weight of the layers of clothing between you both.

"You've changed," you noticed.

A different dynamic. The pace was set by him—just moments ago, you were standing by the door, and now, half of your clothes were gone, while the soft skin of your neck was buried under a cascade of messy, impatient kisses.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his face hovering above yours, one hand resting on the bed next to it.

"I haven't gotten enough to say for sure," you replied, teasingly. "But I get the feeling you're more confident now. A lot of practice since last time?"

He shrugged.

"I don't think it's about practice," he said, his hand sliding down your side until it stopped at the waistband of your pants, lingering there but not moving any lower. You reached for his hand, brushing against it before trailing your fingers along its length up to his forearm, feeling one of his veins beneath your fingertips. "I guess... I was just scared you'd leave, and I had to stop you somehow. That’s why I rushed," he admitted.

His gaze lingered mostly on your face, but it wandered across your body, his frustration clear as he eyed the layers of clothing still in his way. Something about his desperation and impatience stirred something playful in you, and you couldn’t resist teasing him.

Propping yourself up on one elbow, you tilted your chin to look at him.

 “If I tried to leave right now, how would you stop me?”

The corner of his mouth twitched at your question, but he decided to play along, nodding thoughtfully.

“I think I’ve got a few ideas.”

“Care to show me?” you asked, your voice dripping with challenge.

For a moment, he didn’t move at all, just kept staring at you, until he allowed himself that first, utterly shameless drop of his gaze and a soft sigh. His lips began their journey, starting at their usual, safe spot on your neck, trailing toward your shoulder, and crossing over your collarbone with deliberate intent. You were still half-sitting, struggling to steady your breathing so your chest wouldn’t rise and fall too much or too quickly, trying not to disrupt him. The first hint of uncertainty appeared between your breasts when his kisses momentarily softened, carefully exploring unfamiliar territory and testing your sensitivity.

You struggled more and more to keep yourself from collapsing fully onto the mattress. But when his cool tongue met your skin, pressing against it so firmly that his forehead brushed against your stomach, relentlessly moving lower, you couldn’t hold out any longer.

He was between your knees, bent in anticipation. He reached them, sliding his hands down your thighs and coaxing them to relax. He fumbled a bit while unbuttoning your pants, and had trouble sliding them down while you were lying there. You lifted your hips to help, even tried to do it yourself, but he stopped your hands, placing them above your head.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he said softly, finally freeing your legs from both pant legs. His hands wrapped around your ankles, his thumb tracing gentle circles around one of them, which somehow completely seized your attention, and you focused solely on that subtle motion. For a moment, you closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, you noticed that his chin was just above your panty line. "Actually, it will be much more pleasant for you if you just focus on feeling and nothing else. I was supposed to show you my ideas, remember?"

“As someone who apologized for being in too much of a hurry, you sure have an unexpectedly large amount of patience now,” you remarked with reproach, lifting your head again. Maybe keeping it down allowed for more comfort and relief for your neck, but on the other hand, the sight of his face immersed between your thighs was simply priceless.

If the sight itself was priceless, how do you describe that feeling?

With every move of his tongue, your hips swayed, adjusted to the rhythm. Often tense, trying to find some outlet, especially when sighs escaped his lips and his cool breath penetrated through you.

"Think I'm gonna cume embarrassingly quickly," you confessed, unsure whether he even understood anything from your sentence, which was at least interwoven with two moans. Three.

When it happened, you uncontrollably squeezed his head with your knees, a similar groan also came from his mouth. 

Spender didn’t stay in that position for long. When you opened your tightly shut eyelids, his face was right above yours, stretched in such satisfaction, as if he was the one receiving pleasure.

"Was it too quick for you?" he asked, still absorbing you with the same gaze, which seemed to pulse with desire. "If you want, we can try again, you’ll surely improve..."

"My God, when did you become so cocky?"

He chuckled, but instead of answering, he once again pressed himself against your body and skin, closing his eyes in devotion and lingering on each spot for as long as it took, as if he could never be satisfied, no matter how much he took in. 

Your hands, instead of tormenting the innocent fabric of the blanket, moved to his back, tightly embracing his neck and basically everything they could latch onto. All of his earlier composure seemed to evaporate; you didn’t even have to ask twice to make him slide in. It actually sounded more like an order than a request, a bit desperate, it's true, but still an order.

"How is it even possible that it feels even better than the last time?” His words, his lips, ticked your neck as he moaned out this question. "Just... I feel like I won’t have enough of you tonight."

"The night is long," you said, almost into the air, not really paying attention to the meaning behind it. "Tomorrow night too."

Spencer stopped, completely. His eyes desperately searched for yours, and when he finally found them, they widened in disbelief.

"Tomorrow night too?" he repeated. "But I thought... I thought you didn't want anything more than a one-night fling…”

"It's already our second," you reminded him. "And I'll be completely honest with you, I don’t want to walk around all day tomorrow sexually frustrated just at the sight of you. Let's make a deal, okay?"

"A deal?"

"Yeah. I'll tell you about it in a moment, but right now...Oh God, I think I’m gonna…”

You both got dressed right after, but not because either of you intended to leave. The temperature inside simply didn’t allow for sleeping naked, no matter how warm you were after sex.

"So?" he asked, handing you the piece of paper you had sent him to the bathroom for. Then he sat on the bed, facing you. "What did you mean by this deal?"

"Well, after thinking about it, I'm not sure if it's a good idea after all..."

"I want to know, even if just out of curiosity."

"You want to know everything, Spence. But fine. I thought maybe... while we're in Alaska, we could just, you know, allow ourselves to do whatever we want. In more direct terms, fuck each other as much as we want.”  

It sounded a bit...crazy? Spencer kept his gaze suspended in the air for a moment before turning it back to you, questioning.

"But only as long as we're in Alaska?"

"Exactly. Since there's only one floor between us, why not take advantage of it?" you tried to joke, lightening the mood.

It didn’t seem to have much effect on him.

"But what happens next? When we get back?"

"Do we really have to think about that?" you wondered, moving closer to him, to the body that just moments ago made you feel so good. "We'll get used to being apart, just like before."

"Okay," he sucked in a breath, clearly torn over the proposal. "I mean, no, I didn’t mean okay... because it doesn’t seem like a great idea, but on the other hand... on the other hand, I really, really want you, even if it only means for this short time."

You smiled, though deep down, somewhere very deep, there was something somber in that gesture. 

Ignoring that, you kissed him to seal the deal. And not just that.

"That was for good night and goodbye."

"Goodbye? You're leaving?" A clear look of disappointment crossed his face, but he quickly shook his head, trying to get rid of it. "Good night, then."

 "It's not that I don't want to stay. It's just that it would be better to be well-rested for work, and I don't think we'd sleep properly if I decided to spend the night here. “

You saw him open his mouth, ready to protest, but you had already gotten up from the bed and started gathering your remaining things.

"Wait," he called as you were about to leave. "You said... you said something that's been bothering me, you know? I can even quote it, so listen up. You said that you don't want to walk around all day tomorrow sexually frustrated just at the sight of me."

You couldn't help but let out a burst of laughter.

"And that bothers you?"

"I don’t understand what you meant by that. What in my behavior makes you feel that way?"

"A lot of things."

"Like what?"

"I'll tell you someday. Maybe it's better if you're not aware of it."

"Hey, now I won’t be able to sleep!"

"Anyway, good night, sweet boy."

*

Almost the first thing in the morning, you found yourselves at the local police station, full of disappointment and anxiety. You had to inform the parents of the missing boy found in the forest that he had been located. But unfortunately, it was not good news.

The first hours of the day passed in constant analysis and discussion, until finally, around noon, you gathered in front of the town's police officers, ready to deliver the profile. You didn’t have much time for any reflection on the previous night, or even for a conversation with Spencer. A sober one this time, when you weren’t intoxicated by desire and each other.

You stood in the corner of the room, listening to Hotch and Gideon.

"The UNSUB is a white male, likely with military experience or, at the very least, extensive survival skills, estimated to be around 50-60 years old. He abducts teenagers, boys, and young men who look younger than their actual age, which suggests he doesn’t know his victims very well."

"If he observes them, it’s for a short period. He doesn’t have time to get to know them but understands their routine and daily schedule well enough to know when to strike."

"He doesn’t drug his victims, which means he is physically capable of abducting them without assistance. This ties into the type of victims he selects. All these boys were more the intellectual type than athletes. When abducted, they were coming from school, tutoring sessions, or the library. David Moore, for instance, was tall but lanky. His family described him as gentle, with a big heart and a passion for learning."

"The UNSUB abandons them in remote forest locations. Forcing them to fight for survival gives him a sense of control and serves as a way to prove his belief that modern society and boys today are incapable of handling adversity. He openly despises them, viewing them as weak and effeminate. His mindset reflects a toxic approach to gender roles and what he considers the traditional male archetype."

“White men aged 50-60 with survival skills make up about half the population here,” a policeman noted. “Take me, for example…”

Hotch began providing more detailed information, while Gideon stepped out of the center of the room, and the atmosphere became more relaxed.

You approached Reid, who was sitting in a chair, and ruffled his hair with your hand.

“Watch your back, genius-boy,” you warned, standing behind him. From his seat, he tilted his head all the way back to look up at you. A smile instantly appeared on his face.

“You might just be next. And we wouldn’t want that.”

“So, you think I’m effeminate?”

"I know very well that you're not. But you do have that intellectual spark in your eyes. And, you know, those glasses don’t help."

Ever since you’d been in Alaska, he’d worn them less often because, as he’d told you while chatting in bed, they kept fogging up. But now, they were perched on his nose, making him look... delectable. Simply delectable.

The rest of your team approached, Elle's gaze lingering on your hand resting on the back of Reid's chair. As usual, she had to notice everything.

"I need to send you all to a few places to check out some individuals the police have identified as matching the profile," Hotch announced. "Y/N and Elle, I’d like you to speak again with the bus driver who drove David Moore just before he was abducted. Once he understands the profile, he might be able to recall more details."

You lingered in the room, wanting to exchange a word with Spencer. In complete privacy... He was slowly wiping his glasses, as if hoping for the same. Watching the movements of his hands, you shook your head.

"This is it—what you asked me about yesterday. What makes me sexually frustrated. Our agreement still stands, right?" you asked, running your hand along his shoulder, just to touch him. Even though the many layers of clothing made it almost impossible to really feel him.

He looked at the glasses he was cleaning, then at you, disbelief written all over his face.

"That's what you meant? Cleaning glasses?"

"Don't judge me. It's about the motion. Or maybe the glasses themselves, I don't know. Maybe I’m a fetishist. Anyway, are you going to answer my question?"

Still seated in the chair, he had to tilt his head back to look at you, which reminded you—just a little, okay, a lot—of another situation where he was down below.

"What about you?" he countered. "You haven’t changed your mind?"

"Absolutely not."

"In that case, yes. It still stands."

“Oh, I don’t know what I’d do if you’d answered differently. See you tonight, then,” you promised, glancing around the room to make sure none of your team members were still there. Just a few local officers... who weren’t paying much attention to you. Even if they were, it wasn’t their business.

You leaned in quickly to kiss him. He closed his eyes, as if hoping for more.

“Not now, and not here. I need to go find Elle. Hotch gave us an assignment. Have a good one.”

You walked away, feeling his gaze on your back.

You found your friend in the car, one of those suited for tough terrain, with high tires. She was sitting behind the wheel, tapping her nails on it.

"So, what was the address of that driver?" you asked, fastening your seatbelt.

"Forgive my bluntness, darling, but I’ll die if I don’t know. What was that all about?"

"What do you mean, ‘What was that all about’?"

"Oh, come on, you know exactly what I mean. Messing with his hair, the chair, the looks. Are you two sleeping together again?"

You technically had no reason to hide anything from her, after all, you trusted her completely and had never hesitated to talk about your sex life. But this time... you kind of liked the idea of keeping whatever happened between you and Spencer just between the two of you.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. We're just acting like we usually do," you said.

"Yeah?" She raised an eyebrow, slowly pulling away from the police station, her gaze shifting between the road and you. "Then what were those sounds last night from his room?"

"Oh shit, did we make noise?"

She smiled triumphantly.

"I don't know, you tell me. I'm just teasing you. I'm on a completely different floor. But I'll take that as an admission of guilt."

"Manipulative bitch!"

"I'll take that as a compliment. So?"

You rolled your eyes with a heavy sigh, but eventually, you confirmed her suspicion with a nod.

"I thought you didn't sleep with the same guy twice."

"The air in Alaska really does something strange to me."

"Sure. The air," she scoffed, and you furrowed your brows in slight confusion, looking at her, waiting for her to elaborate. The car glided along one of those completely empty, snow-covered roads where there was nothing to focus on. "You know, I wonder why you just don't admit that you like him?"

"I don't hide the fact that I like him."

"Then why not give it a try?"

"Try what, Elle?"

She glanced at you sideways, her lips tightening at your obviously irritated tone. She didn't mean to upset you, of course, but that's how you felt. She sighed, as if thinking about how to approach the subject.

"You've learned to live with it," she finally began, slowly and cautiously weighing her words. "With that fear. Of intimacy and commitment."

"It's just a preference."

"No, it's not a preference. It's fear. You're afraid that if you get emotionally close to someone, you'll be abandoned, and you don't want to risk another painful loss. You want to have full control over the relationship and disappear when you feel like it's fading. Usually in the morning. It's a common mechanism, and it's not just about you. And no mechanism can be broken without making an attempt."

"Elle, stop. You're profiling me, and you know how much I hate that."

And actually, you hated being confronted with the truth about yourself and being internally forced to draw conclusions about yourself.

It was easy, living without reflecting on oneself. Especially when those reflections were painful. You could hurt yourself, unsuccessfully trying to confront them, or flow along with their current, completely subordinated to them and deaf to the words of others, who said you were only hurting yourself in the bigger picture.

 Elle dropped the subject, as you had arrived at the house of the man you were supposed to interview. She didn’t bring it up again afterward. The hours at work passed, and you only waited for that specific moment when you'd cross the threshold of that room again.

The previous night danced vividly in your mind, never slowing down or taking a break for a moment. As soon as he opened the door, you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing his face, and unbuckling his belt.

Spencer took a sharp breath, shocked and amused, as soon as you touched him.

"It would be incredibly awkward if someone were at my place right now," he chuckled into your mouth, half of his sentence drowned out by your kiss.

You pulled your face away just slightly, raising your eyebrows. It was only then that you noticed he was wearing glasses. Oh, he was so completely unaware of what you were about to do to him...

"How many people do you bring to yourself every night?" you asked.

"In that regard, only you. Besides, this is only the second time, so I wouldn’t call it every night... but I could always be here with someone, talking..."

"Keeping each other warm," you added.

Your hands slid under the fabric of his clothes, brushing the lower part of his stomach.

He noticeably tensed under your fingers, swallowing slowly, impatient and pleading.

"Engaging in a worldview discussion and exchanging conclusions," he finished, a smile playing on his lips.

"Uh-huh. Exactly like we are now. Honestly, does that turn you on? Do you want me to share my political views while you’re eating me out?” 

"This is probably the only scenario in which you could make me not feel pleasure because of it."

His hands hesitated, roaming uncertainly across your body, unsure of where to start. They brushed over so many spots, moving from one to the next, chaotic and desperate. 

You didn’t know where to focus – on the lips in the hollow of your neck, on the hand on your hips, or the other, slipping lower and lower?

Or perhaps on that sound, right by your ear, sweet, pleading whimper?

Moan left your body just for that reason and you already knew how you wanted the rest of the night to unfold. 

You gently pushed him back, and with quickened breath, you dropped to one knee, then the other.

"After yesterday, I couldn't stop thinking about you," you confessed, making sure your lips were close enough to his body as you spoke. You heard him inhale sharply, whispering something under his breath. "I couldn't focus on work at all. So today, I want to take care of you, completely."

You thought he would be satisfied with the offer; well, it was hard to deny that he was. Still, for some reason, he started shaking his head.

"N-no, that's not... I want to do it. Take care of you, I mean."

You couldn’t stop smiling, but at the same time, you weren’t about to back down, which should probably be enough to describe the dynamics of the following hours. 

At times, it was brutally slow, while at other moments, it was hurried and impressive. Sometimes, you interrupted each other constantly, unable to stop talking, and at other times, the only sound filling the room was your two breaths, the only constant, restless, and laced with moans and cries.

"You’re not leaving me tonight, right?" he asked, drawing closer to your body and holding you almost pleadingly. You laughed against his skin, shaking your head in denial.

 "At some point, I will have to. For about fifteen minutes, before everyone wakes up."

 "You’ll say you just came by for something. To ask a question or something," he tried to convince you.

 "Oh, at this early hour, looking like I’ve just done a two-hour workout? Derek would eat us alive. His eyebrow would never drop again. If I ever end up in hell, it will be with him there, looking at me like that." You tried to mimic his expression, tensing your jaw as you did.

"Stop, I feel harassed."

"You see? And if he found out about us, this is how the next... God, I can’t even predict when he’d get tired of it. Maybe in a year. Do you want to suffer for another whole year just to be with me for an extra fifteen minutes?"

 "I’d be able to survive that," he declared quietly, placing his hand under your head and playing with your hair with one of his fingers. "But if you don’t want it, I’m not going to waste time and try to convince you."

"Sure," you scoffed playfully. "So many things could be done in that time."

"Like what?" he asked, clearly intrigued. "Try to sleep. What were you hoping for?"

"Nothing, nothing. But you used a plural in that sentence and then only gave one thing. So, I’m waiting for the rest."

"That’s an overinterpretation."

"More like a simple analysis of sentence structure."

"Maybe sometimes it's better to analyze a little less. Spencer."

 "I don’t think I’m capable of that," he admitted, his tone a little more serious. You furrowed your brow, looking at his pale face in the weak light, showing signs of the night’s exhaustion. "That’s just how my brain works. It doesn’t give me much time to rest."

You often wondered what the world looked like from his perspective. How, in many ways, his genius was both a revelation and a curse. But you’d never heard him complain about it—until now. In fact, it wasn’t even a complaint, just a statement of fact, somewhat melancholy.

You kissed the top of his head, hoping it would have a soothing effect.

And indeed, it worked. He moved even closer to you, rested his head, and after a moment, almost at the same time, your eyelids fell.

*

The morning passed slowly and longingly, even though you were still so close to each other. However, there was the awareness that with the arrival of the day, you would have to wait many, many hours before you saw each other again. In a similar way, you meant. After all, at work, you constantly spent time together, which only made everything more difficult. It would have been much easier to push him out of your head and focus, if it weren’t for that.

Meanwhile, Spencer, perhaps trying to gently play on your nerves, cleaned his glasses much more often than necessary. But there was also the possibility that he was doing it the same amount as usual, and you were just imagining it.

"Are you doing that again?" Morgan nodded in his direction as a greeting when you were sitting in the guesthouse room that served as your team's meeting place. There was a long table in there, similar to the one in your office, but much narrower. Sitting across from Reid, you could easily touch his hand. If you wanted to. "Is this some new nervous tic of yours? Polishing them?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Spencer furrowed his brow in mock surprise, stopping the corner of his mouth from twitching. You kicked him under the table, and he couldn’t suppress a gasp.

To hide your amusement, you covered your face with your hand, but Morgan immediately picked up on it.

"Is this some new inside joke of yours?"

"He’s literally just polishing his glasses, leave him alone," you said.

Morgan’s eyebrows raised in the same way you had imitated him the night before. Neither of you could hold it in and burst into laughter.

"What’s going on?" JJ asked, walking into the room.

"Something very strange is going on," Derek announced mysteriously, staring at you both intently. His hands were resting on his hips, and his head tilted in thought. "Something very strange..."

Then Hotch arrived, even more serious than usual, which immediately dispelled the good mood. The rest of the team also arrived—Elle and Gideon—and everyone took their seats at the table.

"In the past few hours, there hasn’t been any concerning missing person reports," Hotch informed you. "On one hand, that’s good; on the other, it means the unsub will strike again soon. And we can’t let that happen."

"And you even have a plan," Gideon stated, with some sort of understanding in his eyes.

Hotch looked at you all with hesitation before nodding in confirmation.

"That's right, I have. I've concluded that we have no choice but to set a trap."

At those words, his gaze rested on Spencer, which was enough for you to figure it all out even before the main subject did.

"With all due respect, Hotch, have you lost your mind?!"

And how exactly do you envision this?" Elle asked, not as shaken as you but clearly concerned. "Sure, he fits the profile of his victims, but how is he supposed to set himself up? Walk around town and hope to get kidnapped?"

"At least two of the victims were abducted on the same stretch of road, after getting off the bus at the same isolated bus stop while walking home alone. It’s an exceptionally safe location for him," your boss explained.

"Honestly, I’m not convinced," Derek interjected, staring ahead with a furrowed brow. "I just don’t think he’d use the exact same spot again. Word has probably spread around the area that the FBI is on the case. He might be more cautious and change his methods."

"But he might just as well try again," JJ said quietly. You looked at her with clear surprise, as you had expected that, with her characteristic care for the team, she would be against the idea. "Right now, it’s the only thing we can do to try to prevent another abduction."

You drew a breath, understanding her arguments but remaining entirely opposed. Your gaze finally fell on Spencer, for the first time since the idea had even been brought up. He was sitting very upright, his brow furrowed, and he slowly began nodding.

"JJ’s right, it’s the only thing we can do," he said. He wasn’t looking at Hotch, nor even at the team as a whole—he was looking at you, directly and only at you. A calming, slightly nervous smile crossed his face, making you scoff. "Nothing’s going to happen to me. You’ll all be around, on the bus, near the stop."

With his words, the decision was made, and all you could do was shake your head in disbelief.

"I want to be on the same bus," you declared desperately, crossing your arms over your chest. You simply couldn’t reconcile with the fact that Spencer was willingly putting himself in harm's way—especially when the unsub's desire was to hurt people like him. "I’ll pose as a civilian. A random young woman. I shouldn’t seem like a threat, and someone from our team has to be inside."

"You’re right," Hotch replied, looking at you with sharp attention. "But it will be Elle."

You and your friend exchanged a confused look, startled by the firmness in his voice.

"I don’t think it makes much of a difference," she tried to intervene, which made you feel grateful.

Although, it didn’t change anything…

"I’m not obligated to explain myself to you about this decision, especially in front of the entire team. This is an order," Hotch announced with almost brutal professionalism. "The only thing I can say is that we need someone who won’t break character until the very end. Someone who won’t let emotions cloud their judgment."

"Are you sure you’re up for this?" Gideon asked, directing the question at Spencer. His tone was understanding, prepared to accept any refusal without judgment.

This time, he didn’t look at you. As Spencer nodded in confirmation, he actually avoided your gaze.

"Then we have the whole day to prepare for the sting. Let’s hope this leads to catching the unsub," Hotch concluded the meeting, signaling that you could leave the table.

You were torn between staying and screaming at your boss or leaving the room after Reid. Well, the second option wouldn’t get you fired. And, honestly, it seemed like the better choice. It turned out he wanted to talk to you too, as he was clearly waiting for you in the narrow hallway of the inn, where animal antlers hung on the walls and an informational board about moose was displayed.

"Are you angry because I want to do this?" he asked, the narrow walls around you making you stand quite close. Well, not as close as you could be, but close enough to add gravity to the conversation and allow you to study his face carefully.

Especially his determination. The determination for this job, for solving the case, and for preventing others from suffering the same tragic fate at the hands of this killer. Finally, you understood that your reaction was a bit irrational. Because if the victims were young women with your looks... you’d agree to it without hesitation. Some hypocrisy, huh?

"No. I'm just terrified that you're going to do this," you confessed, your honesty and concern making his face twitch in surprise. You snorted, trying to ease the tension. "I’m angry at Hotch for calling me emotionally unstable in front of all of you."

Spencer smiled gently, though there was stress hiding behind it. He may have been determined to go through with it, but that didn’t change the fact that there was fear accompanying him. He tried not to show it, but anyone in his position would feel it.

"Well, in his defense, he phrased it a bit more subtly."

You let out a soft laugh, stretching your arm out to gently touch his forearm. As your hand slid up, you leaned in a little, the simple gesture helping you feel more grounded and at ease.

His gaze followed your movements with a gentle satisfaction. You didn’t pull him closer, you were simply stroking his arm in that easy, caring way that calmed both of you.

"You’ve never done this before, have you?" you asked quietly. "You’ve never put yourself in this position like this."

He shook his head in denial.

"I’m really... really worried that I’ll do something wrong and we won’t be able to catch him because of me."

"You should worry about yourself, Spencer. Not about that. I’m sure you’ll play your part better than anyone could. "But I really regret that I won’t be able to be right next to you, in case something goes wrong."

His lips parted and closed in a kind of... amusement?

"I was going to say that maybe Hotch could be convinced, but then I realized, no, he won’t be. No matter what you say. And besides, having you there wouldn’t let me focus fully."

"I’m aware of that," you joked, tossing your hair dramatically. "After all, I look stunning."

"I was more referring to the fact that I’d be focused only on making sure nothing happens to you, but yeah. That’s one of the reasons too."

You fell silent, oddly moved by that confession. It was so simple, driven by care, affectionate. And it definitely made your head spin in the context of your relationship. You shook your head, pulling yourself away from those thoughts. As long as you were in Alaska, you could afford anything. After that, who knows.

You swallowed and put on a playful expression, it came with some effort, but you managed.

"Okay, genius-boy. Let me prepare you. You need to know how to behave."

"I thought I was just supposed to be myself," he noted, letting you pull him by the wrist.

"Well, mostly, yes. But it's still better to rehearse, get you into character. Don't you have any random fun facts to share?"

"I always have some fun facts to share. An endless amount."

"We'll see."

For the rest of the day, up until the inevitable moment of setting the trap for the unsub, you listened carefully to everything he had to say. His constant chatter allowed him to occupy his mind, pushing the stress aside to the point that, when it was time for him to head to the designated location, he seemed almost surprised that the hour had come. Only then did certain shadows begin to cross his face.

You paced restlessly around the inn as the whole team prepared. Your task was to take a position with Gideon at a certain distance from the bus stop, to cut off the unsub's escape route if necessary. The bus driver had agreed to cooperate, and JJ was giving him instructions, asking him to act as naturally as possible. There were to be no civilians on board, only Elle and a few inconspicuous local police officers. Hotch and JJ planned to follow the bus from a distance by car. Morgan was to lay low at the bus stop, also posing as a civilian.

You moved closer to Spencer, breathing heavily, his presence alone calming you down.

“You’ll be fine,” you reassured him just before you were about to leave. Morgan gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, and everyone was still gathered around you. You gently hugged him, just as any other friend would, just like Elle and JJ had moments before.

He, on the other hand, wasn’t concerned with appearances. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and rested his chin on top of your head in a strong, lingering embrace.

“Y/N, you and Gideon need to go now," Hotch interrupted.

As you were walking away, you noticed out of the corner of your eye that he also gave Reid a brief squeeze on the shoulder.

It was a truly tense moment. You found yourself in a position where you had no visibility on what was happening inside the bus, nor could you gauge the gravity of the situation. All you could hear through the earpiece was Elle's whispered signal informing you that the suspect, fitting the profile, had just entered the vehicle.

And even though you didn’t have high hopes for the plan, everything unfolded exactly as it was meant to. Spencer exited the bus, and the unsub followed him. The suspect seemed intent on tracking him down that desolate, shadowy road, planning to attack and abduct him. But at the last moment, Reid turned, and before the man could react, he was surrounded by the police.

On your last night in Alaska, you found yourself on top, with his head resting against the headboard of the bed, his hands placed on your hips, and in a position where you could look at each other and talk.

"You really did great today," you praised, leaning in to gently kiss his collarbone.

He didn't seem flattered by your words, no smile on his lips, just that sad, aching expression that caused you pain. Wanting to shake off the feeling, you quickened your movements, hoping it would work, but then he tightened his embrace, making you slow down once again.

"I want... I want to enjoy you," he said with a slightly embarrassed tone, his fingers tracing restless, tender circles on your bare skin. "Since this is our last time together."

For a moment, he gazed at your face, as if hoping you would say something. But he couldn't find any trace in your expression that would suggest you had changed your mind. The small, naive spark in his eyes faded. Elle's words about breaking the cycle echoed in your mind, but not in your heart. You couldn't turn them into reality; you simply couldn't. The agreement remained the agreement.

Once you returned, everything would go back to how it was before.

another author's note: I plan to create a tag list and I want to know who among you would like to be on it. please, let me know in the comments.

[dulcecherub]

A/N: Personally if I was Sofia. I would have just left his ass. Ahh forgot to add I was inspired by two fics on here for this. I forgot one but the other is inspired by @rafeandonlyrafe !! Just the beginning bit of it though!

“Woah, where’d do you think you’re going?” Rafe asks you, as you hastily put your clothes in a suitcase. You ignore him, focused on putting your stuff away. Grabbing a handful of hangers before tossing them into your bag. The clatter of the hangers falling off straps of clothing as you attempt to shove them in. Tears are pricking your eyes. “Hey, I’m talking to you” he says softly. Attempts too anyway.

“I’m going home.” You say, continuing on putting things away. Rafe eyes you, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“But- but you live here—

“This isn’t home.” You say, suddenly, you feel him grab you by the shoulders to face him. You don’t realize how fast you are breathing until he has stalled you.

“What’s going on?” He asks, his eyes trying to make your eyes meet his. “Hey, you can talk to me.”

Tears are falling down your face, your heart is breaking. And you don’t want to hear his voice. The one he used to tell his friends you were just a hook up and how he’ll never live with someone like you.

A pogue.

“I heard you telling Ruthie, that I wasn’t your girlfriend. That I was just someone you hooked up with. Nothing more. That you wouldn’t live with a pogue because you have standards.” You say, shoving him off of you and continuing on packing.

“Hey, hey, listen I—

You can hear him scrambling, the cogs in his brain trying to come up with something to say. To fix things. But for you, this was it.

“Don’t. Just don’t, Rafe.” You say, you don’t even look at him. Still staring at the suitcase.

You felt a harsh pull at your suitcase, it falls onto the floor. All your clothes spilling out.

“No! No! You’re not leaving! You’re not leaving me!” You look up at him in shock, tears are springing from his eyes. Matching your own.

“You said—

“I know what I said! Okay, I didn’t fucking mean it. I just wanted her off of my back.” Rafe said. You shake your head at him, annoyed that’s what he came up with as an excuse.

“Liar.” You say, attempting to reach for the bag again. But he kicks it further away from your grasp.

“No. You’re not doing this to me. To us.” He says, his head shaking. The tears spilling down his face. “I- I said some stupid shit. That shouldn’t mean you should leave. We should just talk about it, okay.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I want to go home.” You say, angrily.

“This is home! Okay! This is your home!” He points around the room. “Here! With me!”

You’ve never seen this side of him before, you’re taken aback by it. Almost scared. The words won’t come, you’re shocked how different his words now contrast what he told to Ruthie and Topper.

“I’m not going to let you shove this under the rug. You can’t say one thing and then switch up. Own up to your shit, Rafe.” Your hands are shaking, you just want to go. Hug your mom. But he’s not letting you.

“I’m suggesting we talk. Because in no way in hell am I letting you walk out that door.” Your heart clenches. You don’t know what to make of this Rafe. Unsure on where he came from. If he was always there. Lurking, waiting for the moment to come out. Instead of convincing you to stay, he’s making you want to run even more.

“No, I won’t let you make me look stupid.” You pick up the kicked luggage. You’re on your knees, taking the clothes in your hands. You don’t even realize it when you let out a sob.

“Please, don’t.” He pauses, swallowing thickly. “Don’t leave. I didn’t mean what I said. I promise you, you’re what I want. You’re who I want to be with. Please.” He’s on his knees now too.

“Enough Rafe. I’m leaving and I won’t let you stop me.”

A guttural sob comes out of his lips, you’re peering at him, with shock once more. He’s shaking his head, his hands trying to reach for you. But you slap them away. You won’t let him make you look like a fool. And you won’t stay with someone who can’t respect you enough to call this for what it was.

“I’m done. Over it.” You finish packing. “I’ll come back for my other stuff later” you start wheeling the luggage away. He’s on you like a predator trying to catch its prey.

“I said no! You’re not leaving!” He shoves himself in front of you, blocking you from the door. You glare up at him.

“Get out of my way!” You scream, he looks at you, his eyes red from crying. His lips pouted.

“I said no. This is just a stupid argument over some dumb shit I said. I didn’t mean it, okay.” He’s looking at you like a love sick puppy. You can’t help but feel your heart strings be pulled. But you shake your head.

“It’s not a dumb argument. I’m breaking up with you.”

You don’t know how you do it, you manage to shove him away so you can leave out the door. You hear him sobbing in the shared bedroom you have. The only other sound is the sound of the luggage wheels, wheeling you away from him. From your doomed relationship.

“Y/n!”

If you want reader to forgive rafe:

Part 2

[mmegwrld]

𖤓.ೃ࿔* WARM + jeon jungkook

you and jungkook are college roommates, but sometimes you two hook up. all the time, actually. he continuously pushes you away.. and you stay.

word count : 3.8k

genre : super angsty, some smut some fluff… a little bit of everything. MDNI!

warnings : HEAVILY INSPIRED BY WARM BY ARIANA GRANDE !! guys i’m sorry it’s so angsty, hurt.. comfort, situationship jk, you’re too patient with him.. crying, slow build up? a little bit of smut - praises, oral (m receiving), JK IS AN ASSHOLE IN SOME PARTS

a/n : this is my first time doing anything like this so pleaseee give me grace!! 🤗💐✨🐬🌞 and THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD!!

masterlist

the first time you met jeon jungkook was when you first went into your shared dorm room. it was an apartment sized dorm, with a kitchen, bathroom and two rooms. you didn’t expect much with college. a dorm, hard classes and an awkward roommate is what you thought about. you knew you were going to get some random person, but you didn’t expect him, jungkook. your first impression was great, some random hot guy i have to live with for the next four years.

his surfer cut, full tattooed sleeve, toned body. he barely glances at you, he doesn’t even say a word until you do. you wonder how long he was here for. you set down your bags and look at him, “so you’re jungkook?” you finally speak up. you’re met with an “mhm.” what? mhm? that’s it? no questions about you as if he already knew what you looked like. whatever. rude, cool, whatever. you roll your eyes with a huff, “can’t wait to be friends with my cool roommate,” you mutter. jungkook finally takes a real glance at you, “good luck with that,” he smirks softly. oh.. ohhh, he’s that type of quiet, you thought. quiet, cocky, an asshole. fine, i don’t need to be friends with him anyways.

sadly, that’s not how roommates work. you have to speak. nights in your shared dorm meant soft brushes past each other. it means accidentally catching him laughing quietly at something on his phone when he thinks you aren’t looking. it also meant studying silently together, glancing at each other. it made you want to know him. he was interesting… an asshole, but interesting.

jungkook when he first met you. he knew you were going to be a handful. you went to a nice college, your luggages were expensive. you had the newest phone. nice clothes. everything. you two have been coexisting with each other for months now. you tease him sometimes for being so silent but he acted like he didn’t care. doesn’t matter.

it happened so casually, he almost didn’t even notice. one night, he saw you. not just on a regular thing, he really sees you. it was a late night for the both of you. he went out with jimin and taehyung to some all night ramen restaurant. he entered the dorm, seeing you in the living room. you sit on the floor with your back to the couch, half asleep while reading some crime textbook. your laptop screen glows softly, highlighting your puffy cheeks… the way your lashes flutter when you’re fighting sleep.

jungkook felt something shift because he’s seen you a hundred times before, but never like this. not this soft, so vulnerable. not in a way that makes his chest tighten. he sets down his keys and walks over to you. he watches you exhale, your head tipping back slightly. his fingers twitch softly. he’s aware… he’s suddenly aware of how close you two have become over the months. he notices the little things he’s remembered. the way you hum softly while you think or the way you shiver whenever you’re super nervous. that’s it, he thinks to himself. i’m fucked. he quickly realizes you’re not just his roommate. you’re her… and he doesn’t know what to do with that.

he gathers your stuff and puts them on your desk in your room. he plugs up your phone and laptop before heading back to you. he thinks for a second. should he pick you up and take you to your bed, leave you there or wake you up and make you walk. he sighs and picks you up slowly, bridal style. you groan softly, “wha—“ “it’s me..” jungkook says softly as he puts you onto your bed. you flutter your eyes open, “jungkook?” you barely whisper. he doesn’t reply as he leaves the room. you furrow your brows and quickly fall back asleep.

jungkook never spoke about his feelings— to anybody. but when he realized he wasn’t just feeling nothing towards you, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. so he does the only thing a guy would do, call his friends. jimin and taehyung meet him at some cafe in the downtown area. jungkook sits across from them, stirring his iced coffee like it personally offended him. jimin raises his left brow, “so what’s wrong?” he asks. jungkook groans, “ugh.. it’s— it’s my fucking roommate,” he finally admits. taehyung bucks his head back, “your roommate?” he questions. jungkook looks at them, “yes.”

“the hot one?” taehyung adds. jungkook shakes his head, “she’s— that’s not the point,” he sighs. jimin and taehyung exchange a look as jimin speaks up, “ohh… you like her.” “i don’t— i— i think i do.” silence was met with the three before the two start laughing. jimin slaps jungkook’s shoulder, “bro.. we’ve been called this months ago! as soon as we seen her!” “you live with her and it took you this long to realize?” taehyung adds. jungkook glares at them, “you guys are no help,” he shakes his head again and leans back. taehyung tilts his head as he stops laughing, “so, whats the problem? you like her… she kind of likes you sometimes— what’s the matter?”

jungkook hesitates before replying, “what if i mess it up?” his voice is more quiet now, more vulnerable. jimin and taehyung knew how jungkook was with girls. he didn’t like to date. he didn’t like talking to them. he was by far the worst guy to date in their grade. taehyung sighs, “you already like her. you’re already in the deep. what’s worse— messing up or never trying?” he asks. jungkook hates how he’s right. but jungkook knew he would mess it up. he always does. with everything. maybe this time could be different.

the first time you two hooked up was after some frat party. the night felt electric. you and jungkook have been dancing around each other for weeks now. making each other laugh, teasing, not admitting you both want the same thing. you sat in between his legs as he throws his head back. he shivers at the warmth of your mouth. his tattooed hand makes its way into your hair, “just like that..” he moans. you bob your head up and down on his shaft. jungkook… he was big. a big muscle guy and a big dick guy. you jerk the rest you couldn’t fit in your mouth. he looks down at you, “you’re so beautiful, (name). i like seeing you everyday. i fuckin love your cooking.”

you furrow your brows at his confession as you lick his tip, “you do?” you ask softly. he nods, “i like you, (name). i really do. i want to be with you,” he soon cums in your mouth. it was about 15 minutes after. you brush your teeth as he walks in, “did you mean it?” you ask and glance to him in the mirror. he looks at you, “mean what?” “you like seeing me everyday, you love my cooking. you like me.” it was silence, “i dunno what you’re talking about.” what? what the fuck does he even mean— he was fucking cumming when he said that. is that what he does? he gets all sappy and vulnerable right before his burst? fuck that.

somehow, you get sick. like really sick. stuffy nose, groggy voice, wrapped in five covers. jungkook checks in on you, “you good?” he asks. you smile, “yeah. totally.” he says nothing back and leaves. an hour later, he walks into your room with medicine, some warm soup— what the hell? a stuffed bunny? you give him a knowing look as he places the medicine and soup on your bed side table. he takes out the three water bottles from his pockets. he looks back at you and puts the bunny next to you, “don’t make it weird. it was on sale.” you blink up at him, “a stuffed bunny?” your voice hoarse. he huffs and gives you two pills and a open water bottle, “shut up and take the medicine.” you laugh, quickly coughing. you clear your throat, “it looks like you.” he furrows his eyebrows and leaves the room. later on that night, he checks on you again. you’re fast asleep, tightly hugging the bunny. he brushes a hair from your forehead, “i got you.” he whispers.

you guys have hooked up a bunch more times at this point. it’s the summer and there’s parties every night. you two stumble into the dorm after a party. it’s near 2am… you think. you stopped keeping time after your first shot. jungkook holds your heels as his jacket drape over your shoulders. you sigh and plop onto the couch. he sits next to you, throwing your legs onto his lap. “you okay?” he asks softly, massaging your swollen feet. you nod and sigh, “all good.” he stares at you with a unreadable expression, “k.” he kisses your ankle softly, “so beautiful.” you knew what he wanted. just like how you thought, he gets all romantic when he’s needy. you look at him, “can we just lay here?” you ask. he looks at you, “course. give me a kiss,” he helps you up. you kiss his pierced lip, laughing between the kisses. he rubs your butt slowly, “all mine,” he whispers, biting your bottom lip. his tongue slides into your mouth as he spanks you softly. you yelp and pull away, “you’re bad.”

he never took you on a date. but he takes a whole other girl on a date?! oh. hell. no. your friend sent you a picture of them at your fucking restaurant. you scoff and reply fucking asshole. he walks back in as you sat on the couch, like everything is normal. but you felt like you just got tossed out. you wait until he says hi. once he does, you scoff. “you’re a real piece of shit,” you looks at him. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow, “what?” “you took a girl on a date.” “i’ve been doing that.” it hits you. the whole time… the whole time he was hooking up with you at night, he was taking that bitch out during the day. “what about it?” he adds. you scoff once more, “what about it— you been having sex with me for months and taking out a whole different girl.”

he doesn’t even flinch. his eyes flicker to yours for a second than back out the window, “we’re not dating. you knew this was just.. whatever.” the words hit you like a slap in the face. the truth of it. the reality that you’ve been pretending this whole time, pretending it was something it wasn’t. you shake your head, tearing your gaze away from his figure, “i don’t want to be your whatever.” “that’s not my problem,” he replies, cold. you hate how calm he is. how unaffected. it only fuels the fire inside of you. you want to scream. you want to make him feel something. but instead, you just walk past him, your voice shakes. “fine. don’t worry about it. i won’t either.” you slam the door to your room, the sound echoing in the silence. jungkook stands there for a moment, his jaw tight. but he says nothing.

you sit in your room, tapping on your journal. you stare up at the ceiling. you cannot shake off the feeling. that very familiar anger bubbling up. you don’t even understand why you’re so bothered. you guys aren’t talking… dating. nothing. just roommates. strictly roommates. the next few days are tense. jungkook doesn’t act any differently—still distant, still the same nonchalant attitude—but the air between you guys is thick. everytime your paths cross in the dorm, there’s this silent battle happening, neither of you acknowledging the real issue. you, on the other hand, can’t shake it. you try to act normal—just like you always do—but every time you see him, everytime your mind wanders back to that night, you reminded of how cold he was. how little he seemed to care.

it was another summer night for you guys. you sat with some random guy, trying to fulfill the feeling that jungkook gave you. he stares at you tensely. hobi and jimin walk up to him, “earth to kookie!” hobi waves his hand in his face. jungkook looks at the two, “what?” jimin looks back to you and the guy, “ohhh… you messed it up. just wait til taehyung hears about this. he owes me $150.” jungkook smacks his lips, “shut up. i just.. i don’t owe her anything.” hobi knew about their situation.. probably the most considering he’s friends with you and jungkook. hobi hums, “you owe her an explanation.”

jungkook spots you walking away, “i don’t.” “yes… you do. she’s given herself to you. communicated with you. what have you done besides give her mixed signals and rub in her face that you don’t like her when you do?” hobi shrugs as he tells jungkook the truth. jungkook sighs as he stares at you, by yourself. “go talk to her,” jimin says. jungkook shakes his head, “she hadn’t talked to me in weeks.” “(name) is a patient person, just go,” hobi pushes him. you sit by the bonfire by yourself, with a random beer in your lap. you feel a sudden presence next to you. you look away from the fire and see.. oh. him. you look away as he stares at you, “can we talk?” he says softly, like he’s scared.

you stay silent as you stare into the fire. jungkook watches the way the fire lights up your face, your features. your eyes looks hurt. he looks at his lap, “i fucked up,” he says, his tone low. you look at him, your lips pressed into a thin line. he runs a hand through his hair, “i never meant to hurt you, (name). i— i never felt this way about somebody and i don’t know how to handle it.” your eyes narrow out of anger, confusion and mostly hurt. you didn’t know if you wanted to forgive him, but you wanted to hear him out. he sighs, “i know i’ve been really cold to you. i know i pushed you away and told you i don’t care. but i do, i care so much about you.”

you finally speak up, “then why did you take her out? why did you tell me i was a whatever thing to you. i have to see you everyday. i wake up and i see you, you’re the last thing i see when i sleep.” your voice quiet. he swallows hard, “i didn’t think you would get hurt that much.” you stay quiet for longer, your gaze hardening. you were angry, but hurt lingered like a shadow, “you can’t just keep pretending everything’s nothing, jungkook. i don’t work that way.” his hand touches yours, it’s a small gesture but he’s trying. “this doesn’t just go away, jungkook. you have to prove yourself. stand on your words,” you say. he nods, “i’ll prove it to you.”

you were so fucking wrong. he was literally a piece of shit. he treated you like a booty call. you’ve had enough. enough of his mixed signals, enough of pretending you’re okay with something you’re not. you guys were laid in his room. you sat on the end as he laid down, “i can’t do this anymore.” you shake your head. your voice wavers as you hold his gaze, “i need more,” you say barely whispering. he stares at you, jaw clenched. you finally think you’re gonna hear what you’ve been wanting to— thinking he’s going to stop you. “i get it.” that’s it. no fights. no pleading, just.. stupid fucking understanding. as if he always knew you’d leave before him. so you do, you left the dorm for a couple of days.

it’s been weeks since you stopped trying. since you stopped waiting for him. and jungkook? he hates it. he sees you laughing with some guy outside their dorm, sees the way you don’t hesitate before answering his texts. that used to be him. that night, when you come home, jungkook is already there, sitting on your bed like he belongs there, “he’s not me.” his voice is quiet but firm. you stare blankly at him, “and?” it starts with a fight. it always does. jungkook’s distant again. canceling plans, avoiding you, acting like what you guys have isn’t the one thing keeping them both sane. and you’re done pretending like you don’t care, “if you don’t want this anymore, just say it,” you finally snap, standing in the middle of your dorm, arms crossed to keep yourself from shaking. jungkook exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, “it’s not that simple.”

“it is,” you argue. “either you want me, or you don’t. but i can’t keep doing this—this… half-assed love story where im the only one who actually gives a damn.” that hits. you see it in the way his jaw clenches, the way his fists tighten like he’s holding back something big. “you think i don’t care?” his voice is quiet. dangerous. you scoff, “you don’t.” silence. and then— “i care too much.” you stare at him. he steps closer, eyes dark, voice rough. “you want the truth? fine. i’m scared, okay? i don’t know how to do this. i don’t know how to love you the way you deserve. and it’d be so much easier if i didn’t care—but i do. i fucking do.” your breath catches,“then let me in.” jungkook stares at you, and for the first time, you see it—the fear, the way his whole life he’s been taught to guard his heart like it’s a war zone. but then, slowly, carefully, he reaches for you and when you don’t pull away—when you actually lean in—he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years. “okay.” his voice is barely above a whisper. “i’ll try.” and that’s all you need. because for jungkook? that’s everything.

the first morning after the talk, everything feels… different. jungkook wakes up first, lying beside you in bed, staring at the ceiling like the weight of actually trying is sinking in. you stir, blinking up at him, voice still groggy. “you look like you regret everything.” he scoffs, but his fingers tighten slightly on the blanket. “no. just… thinking.” you hum, stretching. “about?” jungkook hesitates. then, finally—“how not to mess this up.” your heart clenches, because that? that’s growth. instead of pushing her away, he’s trying. so you smile, soft and teasing,“well, step one? maybe kiss me good morning.” he rolls his eyes but leans in anyway, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering. “better?” he murmurs. you grin, “much.”

you guys were bound to slip up. you are used to being his exception—the only one he lets in. but now that you guys are together, you want more. you want the soft parts of him, the ones he keeps hidden even from himself. and jungkook? he still doesn’t know how to give that. “you don’t talk to me,” you snap one night. “you keep shutting me out like you’re still scared of this—of us.” jungkook clenches his jaw, eyes flashing. “i don’t shut you out—” “yes, you do!” you throw your hands up. “and i get it, okay? you’re not used to this. but if you don’t let me in, then what’s the point?” he’s quiet. too quiet. and for a moment, you think he’ll walk away. but then— “i don’t want to lose you.” it’s barely a whisper, but it hits you like a confession. like a breaking point. your face softens, “than let me stay.” jungkook exhales sharply—then, slowly, nods. it’s a start.

you guys walking home late one night, hands brushing but not quite holding. you frown, shoving your hands in your pockets. “you still don’t like PDA, huh?” you tease, but there’s something real in your voice. jungkook glances at you—then, suddenly, he reaches for your hand, threading your fingers together. you stop in your tracks, staring at him, “kook?” he shrugs, playing it off, “i can try, right?” your heart melts. “yeah,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “you can.” and as you guys keep walking, you swear he holds on just a little tighter.

[absinthehyuk]

you give good love

pairing. brother’s best friend! idol! dino + fem! reader

summary. as lee chan’s eyes met yours again, he could feel his consciousness slipping away from his soul. god damn, he thought to himself. when did this brat get so hot?

w.c. 5.10K

playlist. kind of based off of you give good love by whitney houston but not really i was just listening to it while writing this

warnings. [PLEASE READ] reader is hoshi’s sister, mentions of freak dino 🫢, smut under the cut, PWP, afab reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom chan, pussy eating from the BACK, uses of pet names, chan has a BIG dick, BULGE KINK, very little dirty talking, slight overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl please), creampie duh — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. pi-cheollin is the reason i live and breathe. also i might write chunsunie x pi-cheollin fics soon 😭 also thank you guys so so so much for 2K notes on the wonwoo fic 🙇‍♀️ super grateful for all your love, more soon. this is also my first ever long fic, so i hope you like it. enjoy!

“so yeah, those are the dates and timings of the flight. now, check your schedule.”

soonyoung could hear the ruffling of paper as he waited on the phone. the air con blasted in his face, evaporating any signs of sweat from his pores.

“yeah, i think i’ll be able to make it!” your voice chirped. soonyoung couldn’t help the smile on his face. “thank god! also, don’t worry about being lonely, jeonghan hyung’s sister will also be there, and also wonwoo’s sister.”

“i haven’t seen them in so long! wow, a true trip down memory lane,” you sighed, finally setting aside the calendar on your lap. “they ask about you a lot, i told you to exchange contacts with them!” your brother scolded you.

“i may have forgotten… but all that aside, how much do i need to pack?” you nervously bit your lip, contemplating how much shopping you would need to do.

“it’s a summer trip for one week, basically a mini vacation. pack a good amount of shirts and tops and modest shorts. bring your grandma style swimsuits for the pool.”

“grandma style swimsuit? oh please! i didn’t work out all winter to wear a one-piece!” you complained, flexing your biceps in front of the mirror. “i’ll bring what i want to bring.”

“and if i see any of these perverts staring at you, i’ll chop your head off too, yeah?” soonyoung sighed. “yeah yeah, they are the perverts. and you’re the polished lamb of jesus who has never gawked at wonwoo’s sister right?”

your rhetorical question has your brother stunned as he gapes into the abyss, his mouth filling up with the cool air from the air con. “i’m… how did you—” he begins, only to be cut off by the doorbell of his shared apartment.

“that’s the others. look, i’ll leave now, but make sure to pack properly, okay? text me if you need anything. see you soon.”

with that, he hung up. you smiled as you set down your phone, already deciding the outfits in your head.

as you walked over to your closet, your phone interrupted your thought process with a loud notification.

이찬: oi

이찬: did you get the plane tickets?

with a sigh, you texted back your brother’s best friend, who had somehow managed to find out about soonyoung inviting you.

you: ya, i will be coming.

you could see the dots bouncing on the screen, but you chose to ignore them. switching over to a music app, you started to scroll through and pick your random playlist.

your brother’s song, God of Music started to play and you threw your phone on the bed, enjoying the music.

you could text chan back later. he was really annoying, and it’s not like he meant anything to you anyway.

your phone buzzed with his notifications as you sorted through swim suits. “hmm, this makes my ass look fat right?”

as you landed in the jeju international airport, you gathered your luggage and made your way to the gates.

your brother was already waiting outside, clad in a mask and a cap. wonwoo and his sister accompanied him, smiling and waving at you.

“hey guys!” you hugged them, before fixing the crop top that rode up your waist. “i missed you so much!” minji (wonwoo’s sister) squealed.

the four of you got in the car after shoving your luggage in the back. wonwoo sat next to your brother, scrolling through his phone as you and minji chatted their ears off.

soonyoung couldn’t help but peek at the rear view mirror ever so often, catching glances of minji and smiling to himself.

you wanted to call him out, but decided against embarrassing your brother so early into the trip.

within 30 minutes, you had reached the share house. it was a beautiful property, surrounded by greenery. the sounds of waves crashing on the beach wallowed around you as you dragged your suitcase up the ramp.

“eunsok is dying to meet you! we must make a group chat this time, so that we remember to check up on each other, yeah?” minji helped you with your handbag, smiling as you nodded enthusiastically.

in front of the main door, you took in a sharp breath, before pushing the mahogany portico open.

immediately inside, you were greeted by jeonghan, joshua and mingyu lounging about on the couch. however, upon the sound of your entrance, eunseok ran down the stairs, engulfing both you and minji in a bone-crushing hug.

“i missed you!” she screamed, nearly tackling you on the floor. with a giggle, you hugged her back. “me too! its just sad that sophie couldn’t join us.”

muttering agreements under their giggly breath, the two helped you get up, and greet the others.

as you answered jeonghan’s questions about your well-being, you heard heavy footsteps from the stairs.

lee chan’s body appeared downstairs. when his gaze countered yours, you choked on your words.

it had been nearly 5 years since you had seen him in person. and wow, had he changed. dino, as he was famously known as these days, sported much bigger muscles, and a sculpted face. his hairstyle was finally suiting his face, a beautiful contrast to the bowl cuts you had seen him in during childhood.

for the first time in your life, you actually looked at him. and boy, did he look good. the tank top he wore showed off his body as he walked towards you, checking you out silently.

he had to admit, you surprised him. your black crop top, barely there jean shorts, and long brown hair came as a huge shock to chan.

he had remembered you as the snot-faced bratty sister of his best friend. the girl in pigtails who would cry every time he brought up your crush in middle school.

as lee chan’s eyes met yours, he could feel his consciousness slipping away from his soul. god damn, he thought to himself. when did this brat get so hot?

“hi,” chan finally placed himself in front of you, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “hi,” you breathed out, clutching the handle of your suitcase tighter.

“oh, you guys are meeting after so long!” mingyu chuckled, his eyes wandering around the room as he noticed the tension between you and his youngest member.

“yeah,” you smiled, transfixed by chan’s eyes. his plush lips parted as he glanced at your glossy ones, before quickly scanning your face.

“okay, that’s enough of your weird staring contest,” soonyoung placed a hand on chan’s chest, pushing him back to create some distance between you two.

“i’ll help you get to your room,” he turned to you. “you’re lucky, since you get it to yourself, but its comparatively smaller and narrower than the others—”

“wait, weren’t we supposed to buy alcohol and meat from the store on the way back?” wonwoo suddenly remembered, making all the eyes in the room turn to him.

“shit!” minji slapped her forehead, tutting. “we’ll go get them then! you wanna come with?” she smiled at you, eunseok joining in.

“i think i should set up my things first yeah? but take soonyoung in my place,” you shoved your brother forward. “he’d love to go grocery shopping with you.”

minji’s cheeks flared up as she straightened her posture, nodding. “sure yeah.”

within minutes, wonwoo, minji, eunseok, soonyoung and mingyu headed off to the car, ready to buy crates of beer for the evening.

as the door shut behind him, jeonghan threaded his hands through his hair, smirking. “dino-yah,” he cooed. “why don’t you help her with her luggage?”

almost immediately, joshua joined in, egging on the maknae as both of you felt the heat creep up on your neck.

wordlessly, chan snatched your suitcase from your hand, beckoning you upstairs. you bowed at the two elder to you, before running up to chan.

he led you to a small room in the very corner of the second floor, opening the door with his leg as he walked in.

chan cleared his throat as you walked in, placing your hands on your bare waist. “so, this is your room.”

you nodded at him, taking in your space for the rest of the trip. the room was furnished with a queen sized bed, a love-seat in the corner, a small desk and chair and a balcony in the very end.

“this door,” chan walked over to a door that sat perpendicular to the entry. “this is the door to a common bathroom. its a jack and jill one, that connects to the room opposite to you.”

“oh? and who’s in the room opposite to me?” you questioned, raising your eyebrow. with a dramatic sigh, chan leaned against the bathroom door, swinging his head to meet your eyes.

“its me.”

your breath hitched as he gulped. “w-wow,” you stuttered out. “sounds great, chan. looks like we are forced together again,” you smirked, crossing your arms as you stared at him.

he knew what you were referring to.

back when you were kids, and way before the idiot in front of you had signed with Pledis, you and soonyoung had gone to his house for a sleepover. chan’s mother had insisted on having you sleep on the bed, since “the floor is no place for a lady to sleep.” you and chan shared the bed, while soonyoung dozed off on the ground.

you were 14 at that time, and you remember how you skin had heated up when chan inched closer to you. “there’s no one to save you from my tickles now, crybaby!” the 15 year old boy had threatened.

yet, chan could barely focus on the flashback, instead focusing on the way your breasts nearly fell out from the neckline of your top.

you noticed his staring. smirking, you drew closer, tightening the cross of your arms.

“what’s this now, you’re ogling at me?”

you had him cornered. chan’s back was against the wall at you forced yourself into his space, breasts touching his hard torso.

“i—in you dreams!” he lied through his teeth, nervousness oozing out of his soul as he stared down at your tits.

god, the things he would do to slot his dick between those beautiful, gorgeous, one of a kind—

“my eyes are up here, channie,” you stuck your tongue out at him, before backing away and walking up to your suitcase.

dino felt his blood rushing south as you bent over to pick your bag up and place it on the table.

you purposefully wiggled your ass, humming to yourself. “channie,” you called out, voice as sweet as a siren.

“yeah?” dino collected himself, shaking away the filth that plagued his mind. two can play that game, he decided, biting his lip.

“can you come help me put my things in the bathroom? i have too much to unpack.”

with a nod, he walked over to your space, his chest touching your back as he leaned over your shoulder. “why did you pack so much, hm?” he teased you, running his fingers down your smooth arms.

not backing down from the challenge, you pushed your ass against him, whipping your head to meet his eyes. “i just wanted to look good, y’know? in case there was a strong, buff, hot man i wanted to seduce.”

with a hiss at your movements, chan’s hands flew to your hips. “yeah? you’ve grown up so much that you seduce men now?”

“oh, i do a lot more than just seduce,” you giggled, skincare long forgotten on the desk as you turned around, hopping on the wooden platform as your arms loosely slung around his neck.

chan slotted his knee between your legs, the pervert in him alive and breathing at the sight of you. you were driving him insane.

how you had managed to change so much over a few years had him baffled. instead of worrying about soonyoung, chan thought with his dick.

“what do you do then?” he questioned, eyes trained on your lips as you spoke. you pushed your clothed cunt down on his knee, biting back a moan.

“i think i would rather show you what i do than tell you,” you whimpered out, darkened eyes peering into his hazy ones.

chan bent his knee further into you, causing a delicious moan to escape your throat. “getting bold now, aren’t you?”

before you could even comprehend his words, your pussy spoke before you, hips rutting into his knee. however, a sharp knock on the door interrupted your little hump session.

“chan? y/n?” seungcheol’s voice spoke from behind the door. “you guys in there?”

chan quickly separated from you, walking closer to the door to answer. “yeah, i’m just helping her with her stuff. what’s up?”

“well, we were ordering some take out, so if you guys could come down and give your preferences, it would be great.”

“yeah, be there in a second,” chan glanced back at you, your teary eyes meeting his. the fucked out expression on your face made his dick jump to life.

but the heat of the moment had passed, which painted both of your cheek's a deep shade of red. realization hit dino way faster than it hit you. shooting you a tight-lipped smile, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts.

with a sigh, chan left the room and left you breathless, panting as your senses slowly returned. the fire of lust in your stomach had dimmed slightly, as realization dawned on you.

what the fuck just happened? and why did you like it?

nightfall arrived faster than you expected. but the cool air surrounding the beach raised bumps on your skin as you shoved grilled meat down your throat.

seungkwan and mingyu worked on the grill, with vernon filling up everyone’s plates with the expensive store bought items.

you sat on a stool next to seungcheol, sipping on the beer can that was handed to you. when everyone was busy with their own thing, the leader turned to you and smiled.

“so, how have you been? a long time has passed since we spoke right?”

you had always found comfort in seungcheol. he was the leader of the group, a very reliable and trustworthy person. you remember asking him for advice when you got into college.

“i’ve been well, how are you?” you set your can aside. “any luck with the ladies you used to complain about?”

he laughs loudly at that, spooning a mouthful of ramen. “no, i’m still stuck with one-night stands for now. dating is too complicated!”

when chan hears his hyung talking about his love life, he scoots closer to the both of you, shamelessly eavesdropping.

“what about you? get any action?” seungcheol giggled.

you could practically feel dino’s presence beside you like a wavering shadow, and you chose to exploit it. how dare he leave you with an unfinished orgasm?

“oh yeah, plenty!” you smirked. “don’t tell soonyoung, but i’m lowkey addicted to sex? just feels so good to let off some steam, you know? and the dudes around me are so easy… they fall into my hands like domino.”

the harsh truth behind those words were only known to you. you had been on a dry spell for nearly 2 months now. your fingers and toys were not enough, and you were pretty sure you had started to hallucinate about dick.

“wah, kwon hoshi’s sister is all grown up, huh? good for you girl, go get them!” seungcheol cheered you on, clinking his can with yours.

you sneakily turned to look at chan, who had suddenly grown silent in his conversation with seokmin. “dino-yah. are you okay?”

chan’s eyes met yours and he immediately tensed up. you noticed how white his knuckles had turned, just from gripping wooden chopsticks.

“i’m fine,” he smiled, eyes dancing over your body before he returned to his friend. your bralette was doing nothing to hide your slightly tanned skin, black shorts making your perky ass stand out even more.

dino mentally cursed soonyoung for even allowing you to wear that. but then again, his best friend was too preoccupied with his little crush to pay you any attention.

the rest of the mini barbeque was a tough time for him. the poor boy could only think about your tantalizing words to seungcheol, calling a sweet string of cusses to all the men that touched you before he ever could.

you noticed how your plan was working, hiding your smirk behind a colorful can of beer as lee chan suffered in silence.

within a few hours of outdoor activity, jun and minghao said goodnight to everyone first, tired of all the hustle and bustle. a few others followed suit, yawning and sighing.

at the end of the night greetings, you, dino, wonwoo, seungcheol, soonyoung, minji, and joshua remained near the pool. you saw how your brother kept leeching up to minji, cracking idiotic jokes under her brother's watchful eye.

"i... i think i'll head to bed now, good night guys!" you stretched up from your chair. chan's eyes followed the way your skin gleamed under the fairy lights. he gulped loudly as you purposefully swayed your hips while walking inside.

"you can follow her in, chan-ah," wonwoo smiled, shifting his gaze to the youngest momentarily. "i'll keep kwon hoshi here for a while."

"what are you on about?" dino tried to play it off, scoffing as he crunched up a beer can. wonwoo could only roll his eyes.

"it's obvious you like her, and i'm just giving you a chance to work on it. you really should tone down the staring... soonyoung would kill you if he found out, and i am willing to help you for now. so don't be an idiot and go."

smiling toothily at his hyung, dino whispered out an "i love you" before running up the stairs. he reached his room without breaking a sweat and decided to shower before doing anything.

however, when he was about to slide the door to your shared bathroom open, he heard a loud sigh coming from inside. shamelessly, chan pushed his ear against the door, curious as to what you were doing.

your sigh was followed by a small whisper that sounded like "i can't believe i'm doing this." then, chan heard a zipper being opened.

his eyes widened as he realized what you were actually doing. "no way," he mouthed to himself, feeling his boner re-emerging at a sudden squelching noise.

"mhm," you moaned behind the door, and the pervert in the next room could only imagine what you looked like. "f-fuck chan!" you whimpered, and dino felt his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

the towel dropped from his hand, as his fingers sneaked to the hem of his basketball shorts. with a silent groan, chan stroked his chub as his eyes squeezed shut.

he pulled his cock out, swiping at his tip with his thumb. his brain worked overtime to imagine your hand in place of his, pretty eyes staring up at him.

meanwhile, in the bathroom, you leaned against the counter as your fingers stretched open your pussy. "feels so good," you whimpered, pitch increasing as you imagined his veiny hands pumping into you.

unbeknownst to each other, you and chan had cum to the thoughts of one another that night. chan made sure to cum at the same time as you, recognizing your borderline screams as you tipped over the edge.

what a filthy girl, he thought to himself, panting as his release spurted onto the towel he had discarded.

the starting 3 full days of the trip had made you avoid lee chan like he was the plague but personified.

every glance into his eyes had made you remember what you had done on that one night, and guilt seemed to sour your mood.

everyone had decided to go to the beach after having a few afternoon drinks. you spent your time around eunseok and vernon, gossipping about office trolls and work place shenanigans.

chan was simply drinking with seungkwan and minghao, refusing to give you any attention. although he was confused as to why you were ignoring him, he remained silent and decided to give you space.

jihoon suddenly joined into his conversation, hair tied back into a messy ponytail. “dino-ah,” he smirked, snatching a shot glass from the youngest’s hand. “i hear that there’s gonna be loads of girls on the beach today. wanna check some out? we can share if you want.”

as dino downed his shot, he stared back at his hyung with a grin. “don’t you remember what happened the last time we shared a girl? we had to take her to the hospital because she passed out!”

the group laughed, reminiscing the old memory. it wasn’t odd for them to share one-night stands. the boys were family, and they strongly believed in putting each other first.

the large number of giggles near you caught your attention. you and eunseok walked over to the boys, as she queried about their conversation.

“nothing much, it was just a last minute plan in prague… god we almost got arrested,” jihoon snickered, elbowing dino’s side. the youngest could only smirk, pouring himself another shot of soju.

questions flooded your mind as you stared at the man who had you in a chokehold. dino was clad in nothing but swim shorts, his taut muscles on full display for anyone to ogle over.

as the topic changed, your curiosity got the best of you. you staggered over to seungcheol, knowing that the boy would kill to gossip.

“oh hey y/n,” he greeted you with a tilt of his beer can, sunglasses perched upon his nose.

“hi,” you settled down next to him, your can of lemon soda forgotten as your lips quivered. “you look like you want to ask me something,” he chuckled, eyes scanning your face.

“you know me so well,” you smiled, twiddling your thumbs. “i can ask you anything right?”

“yeah, sure.”

“no repercussions?”

“no repercussions.”

with a sigh, you turned to face the leader as you took in a breath. “what happened in prague?”

seungcheol nearly choked on his drink, sputtering out flicks of the liquid as he stared at you with his eyes widened behind his shades.

“of everything you could have asked… why that?” he groaned, wiping his mouth. “come on,” you whined. “jihoon said it like it sounded so fun! i just wanna know!”

with a glance around to see if anyone was looking, the leader smiled and leaned in closer to you. “we swore we would never tell this to anyone but us… but you’re family too,” he began, voice merely above a whisper.

as seungcheol tattled on about the shenanigans that the idol group had been up to, you found yourself gasping. the wild story, the borderline illegality of it all— it was too much. you squeezed your thighs together when seungcheol skimmed past the details of the night they spent.

lee chan’s eyes followed the two of you, completely misinterpreting the situation. your shuffling thighs, masked giggles and wide eyes seemed like flirting to him as he clenched his jaw, downing his shot.

why were you making this so hard for him?

it was nearly 1 in the morning when you woke up in cold sweat.

your narrow room greeted you in a greyish hue, curtains pulled back to let the moonlight in. with a sigh, you resorted to calming down, taking deep breaths as you heard the waves crashing on shore. a slight buzzing noise filled your ears. it seemed to be coming from your door, but your mind could barely focus.

your dream had completely ruined your chances of sleep. a ticket to dreamland seemed impossible as seungcheol’s words floated in your head.

i’ve never seen dino go that feral on someone before… he was insatiable.

she squirted so hard when he was done, it was a huge mess. wonwoo’s glasses got drenched-

with a sigh, you take off your sleeping shorts and toss them to the side, fingers dipping down to your core.

your hole was slicked up, a sticky mess from your vivid imagination. your index finger prodded at your entrance, making you let out a sob.

your body was frustrated, in agony. you wanted to feel chan’s touch instead of your own hands, wanted to feel him buried inside you.

you let out another pained moan, pushing your first knuckle inside your fluttering walls. however, you fail to register the sounds you have been making, and that the buzzing from the outside had suddenly stopped.

you spread your legs wider, pumping your digits inside, letting out a hurt whimper. it would never be enough.

suddenly, the door to your shared bathroom opened with a slam, and a concerned chan appeared in your doorway. “are you okay—”

the sound of his voice egged you on further, hole gushing with a fresh serving of arousal. you all but sobbed at his direction, sex induced fog clouding your brain as your fingers fastened.

“chan,” you whimpered. in the doorway, with water drenched all over his face and a can of shaving cream in his hand, lee chan groaned at the sight in front him.

“help me…” you pleaded. “oh baby,” he growled, setting the can on the floor as he walked over to you. his hands parted your thighs even further, eyes examining the mess in between your legs.

with a sharp smack, he swatted your fingers away, licking his lips at the sight of your pussy.

morals be damned. soonyoung be damned.

“look at you,” his eyes stared into your hazed ones, a hand smacking your heat. the friction had your hips bucking.

“so soaked, hmm? what were you thinking of princess?” he bit his lip. “you… always thinking of you.”

“fuck,” he groaned, tilting his head back to compose himself. “y/n,” he sighed, one of his hands cupping your face.

you leaned into his touch, lips jutted out in a pout. “tell me you want this, and it’s not just something you’d forget. tell me you want me, and i’m all yours.”

with a smile, you turn aside to place a kiss on his palm. “i’ve never wanted something more in my life, lee chan.”

that seemed to be all the confirmation he needed as he flipped you over onto your stomach, slotting himself between your legs before he discarded his sweats on the floor.

“you have no idea how patient i have been,” he grunts, manhandling you to arch your back as your ass presses against his torso.

he dips his body down, face to face with your pussy. tantalizing, he licks a stripe up your folds, making your knees buckle on the mattress.

you try to look back to see him, but its impossible to move when his hands grab your ass cheeks, forcing his mouth back on you. dino’s chin brushes against your clit as he licks at your hole with a groan.

“so wet for me already, bet i could just slide in and you’d take it.”

you can only moan his name in return, clutching the bedsheets as he ate it from the back. his tongue fucks into your folds, lapping at the arousal that drips out of you in copious amounts.

“f-fuck channie! i’m—”

before you can finish, chan is moving away from your heat. the sudden lack of his mouth has you moaning and whining like a brat.

“easy doll, i don’t want you to cum on my face right now,” he pats your ass, flipping you over to your back as you finally get a view of him.

his slick covered face dips down to meet your lips. the kiss is searing and filthy as you taste yourself on his tongue.

your hands reach for his hair, pulling him impossibly close as you suck on his tongue. using your neediness as a distraction, he quickly angles his hips and pushes his tip past your folds.

“shit!” you cuss, gasping and pulling away. in the heat of the moment, you never actually registered how obnoxiously big chan’s cock was.

as you look down to where your bodies meet, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. his fat tip exerts an experimental thrust, and the sheer stretch of his head has you whining.

“shh baby, it’s okay,” he assures you, pressing small kisses along the column of your throat. “just breathe for me?”

you inhale slowly, allowing your tense body to relax and adjust to him. dino’s attempts at distracting you do not go futile as you feel his fingers pinching your nipples. the pain in your chest makes the ache between your legs lose all meaning.

steadily, he pushes himself inside you, inch by inch entering your welcoming walls that spasm around him. when he finally bottoms out, you feel him in your gut.

this was the fullest you had ever felt. chan’s mouth licks the sweat around your breast, savouring in the salty taste.

his arms rest on either side of your head, making you relish the view. when he finally looks up, you pull him in for a kiss.

its sloppy, and his teeth clash into yours, but you could not care less. your pussy clenches around him as you pull away, nodding feverishly. “chan… if you don’t fuck me right now, i might die— hah!”

one languid thrust into you has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. his metal chain dangles on your chin, the coolness contrasting the heat that squelches down there.

chan takes full advantage of his dancer body as he pistons his hips into you. the stretch has you reeling, nails clawing down his broad back as his body leans into you.

dino’s lips find the spot on your neck, licking and sucking till red and purple bloom on your skin. his matted hair sticks to his forehead, as you turn your head to the side— the visuals becoming too much for you to handle.

you’re met with his forearm in your sight, fingers tightly gripping the bedsheets.

without a second thought, you lean forward and bit his skin, making him groan out as his cock twitches inside you.

“fu- you’re killing me baby,” he smirked, licking his lips as he forces you to look at him.

the brute force of his thrusts has your body thrashing, legs shaking with pleasure.

“feels so good channie!” you hiccup, mind cloud. the only thing you could think of was lee chan and his oh so perfect dick that was ravaging your insides.

when chan looks down, his eyes roll to the back of his head. he could see the outline of himself in your stomach, prodding out with every thrust.

a creamy and frothy ring lined the base of his cock, a testament to how your greedy cunt was sucking him in. your warm walls squeezed hard around him when one of his hands dropped down to press the bulge on your stomach.

“feel me in there, don’t ya?” he babbled, hips faltering at your vicious grip. “y-yes!” you cried out, feeling your stomach contracting.

with a loud growl, chan’s lips rest upon yours. “you close baby? can feel your greedy little cunt crying f’me,” he mumbled, licking your bottom lip.

your pathetic nods made him remove his hand from your stomach and find your clit instead, circling the bud as you mewled.

“cum for me baby, show me how much you needed this cock in you,” his eyes fluttered shut, forehead falling against yours.

“i’m cu— oh fuck,” you whimpered, suddenly feeling your orgasm rip through your body. your pussy clamped down on him, gripping his length like a fleshlight.

dino moaned in your ear about how good you felt, thrusts turning sloppy as he pressed kisses on your earlobe.

he continued to move inside you, drawing out your orgasm as he chased after his. overstimulation had tears spilling from your eyes, clawing at his pecs as you sobbed. “ ‘s too much channie! hurts!”

“just a little more baby, clench round me like that aga— FUCK!” he lost himself in you, feeling your walls clamp down on his cock, milking him for all his worth as his orgasm washed over him.

in a desperate attempt, chan’s thrusts turned erratic as he pumped his load inside you. “s-so good,” he whimpered, hips stilling inside you as he softened. you groaned at the warmth, shutting your eyes in ecstasy.

you both were panting, bodies entwined in a soft caress. time seemed to still when lee chan looked into your eyes again, smiling like a lovesick puppy when you kissed him.

your mouth whined pathetically when he pulled out, falling to your side as he sighed. wanting to be close to him, you shuffled near him.

your fingers dropped down to your pussy as you tried to plug his cum inside you, moaning at the sensation of being so incredibly full and warm.

“that was… the best sex i’ve ever had, sheesh,” dino wrapped an arm around you, pulling you impossibly close.

you brought your hand up to place on his sweaty chest, giggling as he kissed the top of your head. “better than prague?” you teased.

lee chan’s pecs tensed under your hold, as his eyes widened, staring at you in the dark. “what— who told you about that!” he exclaimed, ears dusted pink.

“seungcheol’s very easy to gossip with,” you winked, staring up at his pretty face. “wow… i can’t believe this hyung,” he grumbled, hearing you laugh.

“hey! this only happened because i was thinking about everything you did to that poor girl,” you smacked his muscle, hearing him wince. “why were you so feral that night, lee chan?” you voiced your question out loud.

he sucked in a breath as his grip tightened around your shoulder. “you really want to know?”

“i’m dying from curiosity,” you mused. with a sigh, chan turned his head to face you fully, meeting your eyes in the moonlight, before he whispered out an answer.

“she had the same name as you.”

© absinthehyuk, 2024

[livingmybestfakelife]

Castles Made of Sand

Elias “Stack” Moore x Reader/ Elijah “Smoke” Moore x Reader (Platonic)

“Stack ain’t the only one you hurt when you left, why you do that for girl? All because we turned into who we are? It ain’t that serious”

Smoke says to your sleeping form in the back seat of the car. He had carried your sleeping body to the car after the spell had put you to sleep and stopped you from interfering with yours and Stack’s daughter from inviting them into your apartment.

Stack and Tulip had finally exited the door with y’all’s luggage, waiting for Smoke to help him with the belongings. Tulip was none the wiser to the tension going on around her. All she knew was that mommy had gotten sleepy and was taking an early bedtime, and that her papa had finally come to get them after returning from being “deployed”. They were finally going back to their real home in Mississippi.

“Papa, when is mama gonna wake up from bedtime?”

“Soon baby, she’ll wake up soon, say, when we get back home, how about a big scoop of vanilla ice cream from Mr. Jerry’s store?”

“YAAAAY”

The twins chuckled at her enthusiasm, excited about having something sweet before dinner.

During his brief glance at his brother. Smoke noticed that Stack looked the happiest he’s been in a long while, the depression of not knowing where his wife and daughter was for an entire year tortured his spirit. That was all over with now, this would be the first and last time he would be separated from his family for this long ever again, not even when the twins had to go on their “business trips”.

“I can’t appreciate you enough for helping me brother….I gotta be honest though, I didn’t think that spell would work”

“Wasn’t no problem at all little brother, those are my girls too”

They both gave their attention to Tulip while she was listing off all of the things she wanted to do once they returned home, and Stack was going to let her indulge in everything she had planned.

“What are you gonna do about YN? Surely she’ll try to run away from us again”

“Not if I make her not want to leave again, you know what I mean?”

Smoke nods and smirks at what he’s insinuating.

“Oh most definitely, she’ll understand the vision soon, just give her time”

“She’ll have all the time in the world to”

[retiredteabag]

Wishful Thinking - chapter 6

arranged marriage Nanami with a people-pleasing reader

last chapter - next chapter - series masterlist

*please be wary, this chapter contains sexual harassment*

Your room was constantly empty growing up. That's not to say nothing happened or you were perpetually alone, but it was very rare for one of the workers at the family estate to visit you. Or anyone else for that matter. You were the one doing the visiting.

One of your greatest concerns regarding your inevitable marriage was simply the nature of sharing a room with someone else at all times. You wondered if your spouse would grow sick of you. If you were a strangely awkward companion. If perhaps you would be too clingy, or otherwise too hesitant. Maybe you were an uncomfortable bedmate, who knows?

All of these worries had ceased, however, with the onset of Kento in your life.

He was gentle and patient with you, friendly and curious to know you. This morning, you had awoken with recollections of the previous night. Had all that really happened? It seemed more than ever that perhaps you really had made a friend.

Your time in Kyoto was fun; you had enjoyed pretending to be normal, but when you would come home for break, you were reminded that your world was not one that could be escaped from. As much as you would have liked to have stayed friends with your classmates, that just hadn't been in the cards for you.

You felt luckier than ever, having stayed up late simply talking with someone you knew would remain present in your life. You had assumed marriage was something scary, something that only lead to more anxiety, but now, your worries seemed wholly irrational.

He called you by your first name, and you his. Even now, Kento stood before you in loose pajamas, his hair tousled in a way you had never seen, pouring you a drink.

"Have you ever been to the beach?" He asked, passing you the cup.

You shook your head, "No...not a real one anyway." He simply nodded.

"Me either." Shrugging, he sat down on his mattress, yawning and running a hand through his hair. It made you smile. How was it that he looked so attractive, unkempt?

It did come as a surprise that he hadn't been to the ocean. You had learned he was quite fond of the water- that, paired with the independence he seemed to exude, you would have expected him to have been at least once. His homeland was an Island after all.

"One time, in school, after finishing one of our missions," You stretch and pull one of your luggage bags to your mattress, "my classmates and I stopped by Lake Biwa." You shook your head, recalling the experience. "It's near Kyoto, and it's so big, it was easy for me to pretend it was the ocean."

Now you would get to see the real thing. You set aside your swimsuit and began to put a bag together for the days ahead of you.

--

You had arrived at the final destination (before the return journey, of course), the northernmost point of your trip, early that morning. You had been so busy getting to know your husband the night before that you hadn't packed for the days away from the mainland.

Organized as ever, Kento had the schedule mapped out to ease your mind. Today, you would stay in together until noon. After a brunch on the train, you would take a ferry to Pulau Redang, a beautiful island with crystal clear water. You needed to bring your luggage with you because you would not be sleeping on the train this evening, but rather, at a resort in the island.

You set aside the heels you had worn to dinner the night before, opting instead for a comfortable pair of loafers, flipping them upside down, you zipped up your bag. Recalling the contents you had just filled it with, you stopped short, knowing you would be changing into the bathing suit you had brought along before departing.

You had a loose pair of overalls to cover it, and everyone would be in swim attire. What did it matter, anyway? The truth was, you couldn't put aside the notion that you wanted desperately to look nice.

It was a modest one-piece; even so, your family would have some choice words if they saw you in it. When you compared it to the bathing suits the beautiful women you had seen on the beach wearing, you felt suddenly embarrassed.

In the bathroom, you fiddled with the straps of your linen overalls, checking around you for anything you might need while off the train.

When you came around, Kento did not even allow you to pull the bag off the luggage rack, insisting on carrying it for you.

You laughed a bit when his forearm came into view, lifting the case with ease and settling it at his feet. You looked up at him, "Don't you remember how strong I am?" Certainly, the higher-ups hadn't left out your skill in the jujutsu world from the man. Even if your family hadn't let you work towards a promotion, your rank was nothing to scoff at.

"When it comes to unburdening my wife, it's not really a matter of strength but, yes, of course." He smiled softly your way, lifting your bag so it didn't roll on the train's luxurious carpets. "I have no doubt in your ability, do believe me." He set the bags down then, maneuvering in the hall to turn off the lights. "But I can't say I wouldn't be pleased if you would let me do it for you.

--

An attendant took your bags when you made it to one of the restaurant cars. They had groups of workers bringing luggage to the resorts through a private service since early morning. It only took a reservation check to know where to deliver your bags.

You ate an early lunch with a small group of passengers before the Express had a private vehicle waiting to bring you both to the dock, where a large Merang Jetty boat awaited to carry you to the most beautiful location you had ever seen.

The voyage was comfortable with the way the breeze passed you by, and paired with the shining sun, you had never felt so alive. Every so often, puffs of sea spray would spritz and cool your face, making you laugh. Nanami had gone to the upper deck of the boat to bring you a beverage when suddenly another passenger came to greet you.

In all honesty, when you had boarded, you had thought he was one of the employees of the boat service. He had spent much of his time standing around the women serving the guests aboard, speaking loudly and waving his hands like he owned their attention.

He had a big grin on his face, and he stood awkwardly in front of you for a while. It made you quite nervous to have him silently staring. The boat was moving quickly, only a half-hour trip, and the man wobbled slightly with the movement of the waves beneath you.

He leaned over to grip a seat behind him. His brows were arched in a way that read as a concern. It felt strange to have him smiling so eerily before he spoke up, "Are you traveling alone?"

You wondered suddenly if he had been day drinking, what else could explain the volume of his speech? The joviality in his voice?

"Oh, no, I'm here with someone else." You smiled back. He seemed friendly enough. You weren't completely certain he wasn't just a worker welcoming guests; his eyes were already looking at other passengers, likely looking to strike up conversation once he was done with you.

The boat canted slightly, and he nearly lost his balance. You had a seat beside you that was open, but something told you not to offer it up. You instantly felt ashamed and guilty at the notion. "Are you alright? Why don't you sit?"

He tucked himself between a wall and the top of the seat to your right. He leaned down far, not sitting, but intruding on your space all the same. "Well, aren't you a sweet thing?" You squint, trying for an appreciative smile but not quite being able to, "Is this your first time in Malaysia? Where are you from?"

You turn away from him and wonder if Kento was stuck speaking to the bartender. "Um... yes, I've never-"

You jump slightly when he smacks a boisterous hand on the seat beside you. "Exciting! It's a great place, really, nice broads." He leans in close again, and you grip the edge of your chair so as not to pull away. "They love foreign guys, it's all super easy over here."

He laughs like he's said something funny, and you purse your lips. Some of the attendants from earlier seem to be making their way toward you, a tight smile on their faces. Before they reach you, though, the man is tugged back. You feel as though you can breathe again,

Nanami seemed to have returned, and in an incredibly swift motion, he redirected the man to face him. "Careful." Kento's face was polite as ever, but you had never heard his voice so deep, "We're being asked to find our seats."

The man didn't seem to be put off by it at all, patting the hand Nanami had on his shoulder. "Ah, thanks, man."

Kento wiped the touch off on his shorts and nodded with a curt, "Of course." Before facing you.

"What was that?" He was speaking much softer, and his sweetness warmed you. He narrowed his eyes in that way he does when he's trying to read your mind, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." You suddenly have an urge, and you act on it. Patting his arm as if you were petting a cat. A jitter rolls up his spine like the waves lapping at the sides of the boat. He looked down at your hand, completely distracted. Maybe the mist made him cold?

And what on earth had compelled you to do that?

He was still looking at your hand when you pulled away, shaking your head. You laughed it off, "I think he just wanted to talk to somebody."

Nanami made a 'hmm' sound and reached across you to retrieve the drink he had set aside when he saw the man so near to you. Silently, he decided not to leave you alone again, even in such a small space.

--

When you dock, it doesn't take long for staff to come and point you in the right direction. Some guests, already stripped down to swimming attire, make their way to a more crowded area of the beach. There are booths of people braiding hair, making drinks, and offering fruit.

The attendants of the ferry had handed out brochures depicting "The Blue Tears," a breathtaking bioluminescent glow of the beach. You knew immediately that this was something you wanted. You could only hope you would be lucky enough to catch sight of the natural phenomenon.

You are informed that your bags have already been checked to the hotel and that your rooms will be ready by evening. Soon after learning this, Nanami offers to take you around the island. And while you know that you would want to at some point, you could cover the whole thing by foot- you knew he was wanting to go to the ocean.

Kento was already dressed in a loose button-up and a pair of shorts that you realize might be swim trunks.

Your anxiety is turned up a notch, ceaseless thoughts consume your mind when you think about shedding some layers. The two of you pass by live music, stands offering food, and an elderly lady selling jewelry.

Kento has asked you suddenly how well you can swim, and you have to force your eyes off of his nimble fingers unbuttoning his shirt and try to assure him of your ability.

You recall that Nanami had, in fact, witnessed you (even for just a moment) in some pretty raunchy lingerie; even so, you want to keep a loose cloth coverup over your black one-piece. Only throwing it away from yourself when your husband turns from you to walk into the ocean.

He was respectful enough to mind his gaze, but it was not so simple for you. The man was built in a dreadfully distracting way. The saltwater sliding down the tanned skin of his back brought wholly unwelcome thoughts of licking him clean, and at the notion, you dove headfirst to clear your mind.

Good Lord, what is wrong with you?

You watch him when you resurface, allowing the cool water to encapsulate your body, the necklace you wore tickles your clavicle with the motion of the tide. The water was so clear, everything was beautiful, and it was all so distracting that your brain was quiet, devoid of anxious thoughts for the first time in years.

A pair of teens splash each other, not too far off from you, their laughs are infectious, and you spin around to take in the image before you, wanting to commemorate it. You feel even better than you had at Lake Biwa with your classmates.

Kento came in close, and you shared meaningless conversations that had no reason to be as funny as the two of you found them. He seemed to monitor the distance from the beach every so often before leaning back and letting the sun warm his face.

Swimming was more tiring than you recalled it being, but nothing could have prepared you for the delight of the moment. The two of you floated on your backs, the water kissing your cheeks repeatedly.

--

Time falls away from you. The two of you swam all evening, and at some points, you would wade closer to the beach so you didn't have to swim as hard. You had a blast, and when you finally extricated yourself from the water, the two of you ate all kinds of foods from the nearby stands. Even after sunset, the beach was still comfortably warm despite the chill of the wind.

In the light of the lanterns, you feel more comfortable in yourself, just wrapping the cloth over your shoulders. And standing there, eating some kind of meat on a stick, soaking wet, and flushed from exertion, Kento smiles and whispers something. It takes you a moment too long to understand what he had said. He was already moving on.

"I hope you know how lovely you are."

You feel as though you have never left the ocean, still floating there with him an arm's width away. You probably looked ridiculous, what with your wet hair, sandy feet, and satay on your fingers? You use the back of your hand to wipe at your mouth and laugh at him.

Kento walks a few paces before you, shaking his head while you call him insane. The people you pass while trying different foods tell you to come out tomorrow night to see the bioluminescent hues. How lucky you felt in that moment, Nanami seemed just as thrilled as you were.

When you were younger and training so regularly, your stamina had never been an issue, but after eating, the weight of your exhaustion hits you. It had been a long time since you strained every muscle. You feel slightly annoyed that Nanami was not even remotely out of breath.

He was carrying both of your shoes, and your linen overalls hung on his arm. You knew that you would sleep well tonight after a shower, though a new side of this man might just keep you up. Thinking about just how broad his shoulders were, just how earnest he had looked when he called you lovely.

He must have been teasing, you know that, you very well could have had peanut sauce on your face when he said it, but it caused your heart to speed up nonetheless.

You bring a hand to your warm cheek, feeling the heat present despite the cool air on your damp skin. You huff a breath as you walk up the steps to the hotel you were staying at.

You wait in the foyer while Nanami gets your cards. He had insisted on allowing you to rest for a moment after he chuckled hearing how out of breath you were.

After taking a seat, you're embarrassed to realize that standing up from the position you were in might take a great deal of effort. Perhaps you had overdone it.

You were too distracted by the haze in your head to notice the familiar man making his way toward you. It didn't take long to recognize him, though. All loudness and indecency.

He laughs, making some comment of surprise to see you as if you had been more than brief, unfortunate acquaintances. "Funny seeing you here, hmm?" He wiggles his eyebrows at you in a very odd fashion. It was clear he felt closer to you than you felt to him.

"You're not following me, are ya, sweetheart?" The slight dampness on the back of your thighs from the salty ocean clings uncomfortably to the chair below you, and when the man leans in to touch the side of your face, you feel as though it is what keeps you frozen in place.

Just as you begin to shake your head away from his intruding hand, he pulls it back, still leaning all the closer. He smells of alcohol and laughs right by your ear, suddenly speaking lowly, "No, surely not...you keep out of trouble, doncha?"

You motion for him to move, a gentle, "excuse me." chokes from your mouth, your eyes attempt to find Kento, but the lounge blocks the welcome desk.

The man suddenly grabs at your arm and in an intoxicated motion, rubs it against his chest and belly. His shirt is unbuttoned and the feel of his skin makes you sick. You try to drag your hand away from him, not caring for niceties anymore, but he's closer than ever, and his breath puffs against your face when he talks, "No, you're a good girl, aren't you."

You're nauseous, your heart is pounding, and for some reason, you can't seem to call on your cursed energy. It's not even the exhaustion in your bones; you're having some kind of mental block. He seems to quite like touching himself with your unwilling limb, but once your hand starts to be brought lower, you jerk your hand free. A frightened "Stop it!" leaves you as you bring the arm to your own chest.

You've forced yourself to your feet, hoping he will take a step (or thirty) back, but he seems insulted by the action. Brows furrowing as if your apparent repulsion is incomprehensible.

He's got his hands on you in an instant, he's shoving your shoulders down, forcing you to sit once again. He's doing a strange shuffling motion on his feet, perhaps not having thought his actions though, and then, only a horrible moment later, it's as if he's climbing on top of you.

You hesitate to shove him off, for some reason, putting your hands back where they had just been forced feels jarring but thankfully, you don't have to.

In one starting motion, the drunk man goes from breathing on your neck, knee almost on your lap, to being completely knocked to the floor, prone on his back, his head cracking loudly on the marble floor.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Kento is shaking above him, having just yanked the man off of you, he doesn't waste a moment helping you out of the seat. He removes himself from you instantly, his eyes almost seem to jitter with how quickly he is taking you in.

You realize that he is trying to see if his touch has frightened you, but you're not backing away from him, you find his wrist, and stare, "I'm fine...I'm fine." You're shaking your head, it's like ice-cold water has been doused on you, and you're filled with sickening shame.

You were fine; he had hardly done anything to you, so why did you feel so overwhelmed? Why was your pulse rocketing in your ears? Why were you breathing so loudly?

Nanami extricated you from the scene with speed, in an attempt to not make too much of a scene for your sake, he controlled his tone when speaking to the staff who had come running at his shout. Informing them that they better get that man away from him before he did something unsightly. Something he wouldn't regret.

You find yourself patting his arm, telling him it's okay. You're so embarrassed that you had reacted in such a way, that there were so many people involved now, that it had even happened in the first place.

You massage your neck, a strange laugh escaping you. One of the attendants from the front desk brought you a robe and you try to turn the gesture away, but Kento takes it, and with incredible attentiveness, wraps you up. He holds the sides of the fabric, looking at you directly. It doesn't take long for the hotel manager to come and personally escort you to your room.

Time seems to move so slowly, you force yourself to keep up as he leads you down a nearby hallway. Kento has a hand on the small of your back, he's watching you closely, and you try to force yourself to focus.

You bite your cheek, and the hall tilts. Nanami keeps you from cantering to the side, but you have realized too late what exactly is happening.

It's been a while since something like this has happened, but from the exertion of the day, and moving so suddenly, you feel as though your blood pressure has dropped. Your vision pulses in and out of focus.

By all accounts, you do try your best to make it to the hotel room, but every step you take to follow, you become more discouraged by the distance. Nanami says your name, you hear it and you know there's nothing you can do.

You try to pull away from your husband to lean against the wall, but he misinterprets your action, holding you tighter, and before you can attempt to fall to a sitting position, you have lost all range of motion.

Consciousness leaves you.

--

Nanami had already been worried by your state when he began leading you after the hotel attendant, but the moment he noticed your breathing change, he surged with panic.

He followed you to the floor, gently laying your head on the carpet. He did not recognize his own voice calling for help. His heart is in overdrive, and he doesn't know what to do. Had you fainted from shock? Were you unwell?

He thought back to how flushed you had been when he had told you to rest a moment while collecting the key cards. Had you been feeling unwell since even then? Why hadn't you told him?

Thankfully it didn't take long for you to groan from your position on the floor. Nanami kept calling out your name like a mantra. The hotel manager had used a walky-talky to call for help, but you were already trying to sit up before anyone arrived.

Earlier, Kento had been so cautious, anxious that his touch would scare or upset you somehow. Now, he grabbed your cheeks in his hands, unable to control himself.

"What happened? Are you alright? Are you not feeling well?"

You silently encircle his wrist, leaning your face into his tender touch, "I'm okay, I'm sorry, I'm alright."

He squinted, shaking his head with furrowed brows, "You're sorry? Don't be sorry, what's happening?"

Someone turned the corner of the corridor, and they were in the very same uniform as the man on your left. He seemed concerned, sprinting to a kneel beside Nanami to feel your pulse, your forehead.

You tried to wave them off again, "I'm okay, I'm very sorry, I have anemia, I didn't think this would happen..."

The hotel attendant looked understanding, nodded, and asked if you needed anything, if they could do anything to be of service to you, but once again, you waved them off.

Nanami was looking at you closely; he was so focused on your face then, watching your every movement. He seemed almost upset.

You recall another angry face.

--

Years ago, something like this had happened, you had been training in the dojo at the family estate, everything seemed normal, you had been sleeping and eating well, and yet after one flailing movement, you had found yourself sightless, lying on the tatami mats.

When you had awoken, the family doctor was there, informing your father of this condition, he said that it was improper for women to be pushing their bodies in the way you had been, that such distress on such a weak form could affect fertility, could lead to weak stock, to hysteria common amongst women.

You didn't train after that.

--

You really were alright, that's the embarrassing part. You were quite sure you would be able to comfortably make it to the room just fine but Kento was having none of your actions to brush him off.

The room spun again, not with vertigo, but with the action of him lifting you sturdily against his chest. He was breathing tightly, and every so often, he would murmur reassurances. He was still off kilter though.

He didn't know you were anemic.

He felt that it was rather important information to have on his wife and yet, here you were, trying to convince him to let you walk on your own.

He wonders why you hadn't said. Was it possible that you thought it wouldn't affect you? Could it be that you had your condition under control until now? Or, he suspected, his stomach churning, was it that the higher-ups thought he would not want you unless your condition was perfect? Had you hidden it from him on purpose?

Anemia wasn't uncommon, but he hadn't seen someone faint like this before. Nanami recalls suddenly the past he so desperately had wanted to pursue. The life away from Jujutsu he had thought would bring him freedom. He recalled the boss who had overworked him to sleeplessness. The deep discontentment he found himself in when he lived to serve those around him.

In that moment, holding you closely to his chest, he wondered if that had been how you felt. If you had been trapped there, the same way he had been. Only now, with your body tucked into him, he wondered, was that your norm?

He couldn't let that happen.

The two men from before brought Nanami to the reserved room, and they opened the door for you both, asking repeatedly if you needed hot chocolate or a cold compress. You seemed more cognizant, turning them down. Your luggage was just beside the door, you realize.

Before you could turn them away again, the hotel manager pointed out some beverages and salty snacks on the table. Kento thanked them, and after the workers had turned to leave, he set you down on the desk that was in the main entrance of the room.

He murmuerd something about wanting to lay you down, that perhaps he should have your knees above your head, but his main priority was trying to keep you from jumping off the counter to prove you were really quite well.

So much embarrassment riddled your brain, and Nanami was too sweet to be anything but needlessly worried.

He bent his knees to look at you closely. Ignoring your words of assurance, he placed his palm gently on your forehead. He cracked open a water bottle, and you knew instantly that you were fine since your brain was quickly picking up on how tensely his muscles became when he tore the lid off.

You wanted to bite his arm.

Seriously, what is wrong with you?

He clutched your chin, watching you swallow the liquid, only satisfied once you set the bottle down yourself. He reached over to a small packet of peanuts in a basket amidst other treats laid out free of charge.

Ah, yes, you were just fine, you felt every stroke of his thumb on your thigh as he watched you eat away at the individual nuts. You found it funny, or maybe you were just laughing to ease your ruckus of a heartbeat.

Kento did not find it amusing; his brows were still tightly knit together, had pulled back after noticing how close he had become, and only once petted the back of your neck when you laughed at him.

You really just wanted to curb this deep-seated concern of his.

"You need to lie down." Before the man could pick you up himself, you swung your legs off the desk, he didn't exactly gasp, but he huffed a,

"Please don't do that..." Before you could promise again that you were right as rain. Cheeks flushed in explanations you didn't want to share. In silent prayers, he would leave this all alone and somehow forget this had ever happened.

He still walked you out of the foyer, only just barely passing by the archway that led into the bedroom, when your steps halted. Alerted almost instantly.

He looked down at you, palm gently rubbing your back, "Please. It's best for you to lie down, even if you really are feeling alright."

Your mouth opens and closes a few times, looking between your husband and the massive room before you, "It's...not that."

He follows your head a few times, "What's wrong?" He looks closely at your eyes, and you don't understand how he isn't getting it. He turns to face you completely, brows furrowing, hands encompassing your face. Perhaps he thought you were feeling weak again.

"Kento." You look distinctly from him to the scene through the doorway, drawing his hand from your face.

He slowly turns again, trying to understand your tenseness, it takes him a bit, silly man, before he stills. "Oh..." He straightens considerably, finally understanding.

It seems there was only one bed in your room.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

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[chuulyssa]

──── FINDING A SECRET OF THEIRS

pairing ⸺ gojo, geto, toji, sukuna, nanami x reader

cw ⸺ fluff

𝙂𝙊𝙅𝙊

the room is uncharacteristically quiet. after checking into the hotel you were assigned to with gojo, you’re sifting through your luggage in a corner of the room. as you get up to keep your clothes in a closet, a faint, almost imperceptible humming catches your ear. you instantly think the place is haunted, but then you turn towards gojo, who’s lounging on the couch with his blindfold pushed up, seemingly lost in thought.

he’s humming a soft, soothing tune, and you’re surprised. it sounded like a lullaby. but where would he have learned one? was it when he took in megumi? you blink. “are you... humming a lullaby?”

“hm?” he freezes mid-hum, and his lips quirk into a teasing grin as if nothing happened at all. “whoops, caught me,” he says, sitting up. “what, were you so absolutely captivated by my beautiful voice that you forgot to unpack your skincare stuff?”

“already done,” you smile and shake your head. “i’m just surprised you can sing. what are you singing though?”

for a little moment, his expression is neutral, and you can’t tell what he’s thinking. then he scratches the back of his head and looks away. “it’s nothing… just something my mom used to sing to me when i was small. i… uh… don’t remember the words.”

you tilt your head at him; he really is quite adorable. you keep your folded clothes on your bed and move to sit beside him, nudging him softly. “must’ve been nice if you still remember that. though i think you would’ve been quite a naughty child.”

he chuckles, pouting at you. “nope! wrong! i was the cutest one. too bad you missed it.”

“well, you’ll just have to show me then.”

“show what?”

“give me a baby that looks just like you.”

“you’re on.”

𝙂𝙀𝙏𝙊

the quiet of his quarters is broken by the sound of a drawer sliding open. you’ve been helping geto sort through some old belongings when you find a small, dusty old photograph tucked away. you immediately shift the socks covering it and brush some of the dust off. it was a picture of him with two young girls, both of them giggling at the camera. geto’s arms were wrapped around them, and they were feeding him what looked like a lollipop.

“sugu?” “hmm?” he hummed back, turning to you.

“look what i found!” you ask, holding the delicate paper up to him. “are these the sisters you were talking about that day?”

geto’s eyes soften the moment he sees it. he takes the photo from your hands, his thumb brushing over the girls’ faces in the picture. “yeah. mimiko and nanako. can’t believe you remembered that.”

“i’ve seen how fondly you talk about them,” you sit beside him and murmur. “and you all look so happy together.”

“we were,” he says quietly. “i’d take them out for sweets whenever i was free — before… you know…”

“before you joined jujutsu high?”

“before… yeah,” he sighs, before smiling a small smile when he looks at the picture again. “they always fought over the last piece of taiyaki.”

“and who would win?”

he chuckles softly. “i let them think they did. ate the scraps myself. but it was nothing, i liked seeing them do their little victory dance.”

there’s a faraway look in his eyes now, as if he’s thinking of something distant, trying to recall a lost memory. you hesitate a little, but eventually place a hand on his arm. “can we visit them anytime soon?”

“don’t know if i can face them after not seeing them for so long,” he glances up at you, nodding. “but i want them to meet you. they’d love you.”

𝙏𝙊𝙅𝙄

you’re rummaging through toji’s toolbox looking for spare toffees (he usually hid them there away from little megumi) when your hand pokes something hard. you wince and look into the box to check what it was. you take the object out, it’s a small, intricately carved wooden bird. your lips curve into a grin and you pick it up, running your fingers over the smooth surface.

you run to the kitchen to show him your finding.

“what’s this?” you ask, holding it up to your eye level.

toji looks over his shoulders from the dishes he was washing. “just something i made. where did you find it?”

“in the toolbox! but, you made this?” you look at him, impressed.

“i can do stuff, you know,” he says gruffly, turning back to his dishes.

“yeah but… it’s so pretty. do you have others as well?”

“yea, used to make lots of those as toys for the brat. he likes the cat.”

“there’s a CAT?”

“uh huh,” he said. “don’t go spreading this around though. got a reputation to keep.”

“if you make me stuff too, sure!”

“alright alright keep your hair on,” he smiled a little. “thanks though. would’ve forgotten about that if you didn’t come here. not many people bother to notice stuff like that you know.”

𝙎𝙐𝙆𝙐𝙉𝘼

you hear it before you see it — the quiet clink of metal and the soft scrape of stone. wandering into sukuna’s private quarters is fun until you get lost amidst all the bones and skeletons. you wonder how he keeps the room smelling great despite all the garbage he owns. turning to another door hoping to see something familiar, you stop short. there he is, something familiar.

sukuna is kneeling in front of a small bonsai tree, delicately trimming its branches with precise movements, as if he was a professional.

“what the hell?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

sukuna glances at you, clearly annoyed. “what? what does it look like?” he snaps, as if embarrassed to have been caught this way.

“you… like plants?” the idea of the king of curses fussing over a little bonsai is almost laughable.

he snorts, setting down his shears. “keeps my hands steady. and it's a better company than most, especially the mortals i’ve come to associate with as of late.”

“if by ‘mortals’ you mean me then i’ve already told you to stop calling me that.” you step closer to get a better look at the miniature tree. “it’s so pretty, i didn’t know you had a soft side.”

“don’t,” he warns. after a beat though, he adds reluctantly. “takes patience to do this, woman. it’s just to… uh… help me train in combat.”

“mhm.”

“yes.”

“suuuuuuureeee.”

“now step out of this room. you may not interrupt my alone time with nature.”

𝙉𝘼𝙉𝘼𝙈𝙄

it’s a slow day at the office, and you’re sitting in a chair in front of nanami’s desk with him opposite you, drowned in paperwork. you flip through the books on his desk when you notice one particularly well-worn copy. what could that be? you pull it out, only to realize it’s a poetry collection.

“you read poetry?” you ask as he sets his pen down to give you his complete attention

he glances at the book in your hands. “occasionally.”

you skim through the pages. there are lots and lots of lines about love and romance. you giggle a bit, feeling giddy. he blinks at you before adding, “it helps me think.”

“think about what?”

“about you.”

you smile hard. “read it to me?” you hold out the book to him, eyes shining in excitement.

he raises an eyebrow but takes the book, then recites in a low voice:

“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”

you tilt your head in confusion, though your smile cannot be discreet at all. “what does it mean?”

“it talks about when you love someone completely.”

“completely?”

“precisely. quite like how i love you.”

© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

[eddiesghxst]

ARE YOU BORED YET? - part one

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you're steve's “bitchy” step-sister and are spending the summer in hawkins; eddie is steve's annoying best friend who you can’t seem to shake, but things take a sharp turn when you find yourself sneaking around and ultimately falling for him

contains: slightly enemies to lovers trope, drug and alcohol use, smoking, secret relationship vibes, tension, and eddie being a certified tease <3

word count: 7k

chapter song: foxey lady x jimi hendrix

| next part |

| series masterlist | their mixtape I -main masterlist- I

Eddie hates summer.

Most people hate summer due to boredom, but if Eddie’s being honest, he’s never been bored a day in his life— Eddie can make staring at the wall a fun game if he wants to— so, no, Eddie doesn’t hate summer because of boredom. Eddie hates summer because it’s so fucking hot. It’s hot, and the sun is always out, and Eddie burns like fucking bacon in an oven— and it doesn’t help that over half of Eddie’s wardrobe is the color black. Do you know how hard it is to be a metalhead with long hair and black jeans in the middle of a summer heatwave? It’s hard.

Now, you would think that with this knowledge of his undying hate for the heat, Eddie would do everything in his power to stay out of it— except Eddie’s friend is kind of a picturesque summer lover boy and drags Eddie everywhere with him no matter how intense satan’s wrath feels that day. So now, Eddie sits in the airport carpool lane, nearly drowning in his sweat as he waits for Steve’s step-sister to get off the plane.

“I just don’t understand why you couldn’t ask Robin to come with you,” Eddie grumbles as he tugs the front of his black muscle tee open and shut in a fanning manner. It doesn’t do much to cool him down, considering the dry heat that’s settled over Hawkins. Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever been this hot in his life if he’s being honest.

Steve rolls his eyes, watching people filter out of the airport, dragging luggage behind them as they spot their rides. Steve doesn’t bother looking Eddie’s way when he responds, “I already told you— Robin’s been too busy shoving her tongue down her girlfriend's throat all summer,” he grimaces, “Plus, I know my step-sister, and I know she has at least three suitcases— all of which will fit perfectly in your van.”

Eddie’s the one to roll his eyes now, irritation settling in his bones as the seconds pass like minutes. “Asshole,” Eddie mumbles as he shifts in his seat. He’s sticky everywhere. Sticky, wet, and gross, and he’s sweating in places that he’s almost one hundred percent sure shouldn’t be sweating. He huffs as he turns his attention to the exit of the airport, eyes scanning through different people as he asks, “...Well, what’s she look like anyway?”

Steve scoffs, “You’ll know it’s her when you see her. Just look for a girl that looks like she came straight out of a Baywatch episode.”

Eddie thinks for a moment, brows furrowing before he speaks, “So… someone hot?”

Steve grimaces and turns to Eddie, “Ew. Gross, dude, no— that’s my sister—” “Step-sister.”

Steve shakes his head and turns back to people watching, “She’s from California, pervert. I meant look for someone who looks like an asshole from California.”

Eddie’s not sure why Steve would ever decide to associate Baywatch with anything other than hot, sun-bathed babes, but Eddie’s too irritated with the heat to argue his point and instead nods his head in understanding. 

“She’s probably wearing heels, and she’s probably in some over-the-top girly outfit— and again, she’s probably lugging at least three suitcases.” Steve further explains.

Eddie nods and purses his lips. “So…” he pauses and thinks for a moment, “Malibu Barbie?”

Steve snaps his fingers and points to Eddie as he glances at him, “Exactly. And forewarning— she’s a total bitch.”

Eddie nods, lips pursed as he takes the information in. Eddie scans the crowd of people for some time, growing frustrated when he finds no sign of a bitchy-looking Malibu Barbie running around Hawkins, but then…

It’s as if a cool breeze drifts through the devil’s heat, and Eddie feels something other than absolute dread when the airport's sliding doors open and out steps a girl that fits the very description Steve had just given— only, you’re even better in real life.

Eddie swears time slows down when he sees you— pretty, glowy skin glistening in the summer sun, the light wash jean skirt you’re wearing is hugging your waist sinfully, leaving little to nothing for Eddie’s imagination as his eyes travel down your legs. Soft, shiny, perfect legs with doughy thighs that Eddie thinks would make his brain short-circuit if he ever got the chance to feel them. 

Eddie’s mouth may as well become a fountain with the way it fills with spit at the sight of your soft tummy, peeking out from the tiny sliver your top leaves— god, is that a fucking belly ring? Your shirt hugs your tits in an ungodly way— well enough to make Eddie stir within his pants because, seriously, how do they look so perfect? Eddie thinks you’ve come straight out of one of the porno magazines he’s got stuffed in his junk drawer.

You’re a dream. Dreamtime fucking central. 

Sex on legs or whatever they say— Eddie doesn’t know; he just knows you’re really fucking hot, and you’re about to get into his disgusting, old, and dirty van.

Eddie’s hand nearly caves Steve’s chest in when he smacks his friend, “Dude,” his face twists in disbelief, “Why didn’t you tell me she’s like—” “Jesus Christ, Eddie, do not tell me you think my step-sister is hot.” Steve groans as he rolls his head on his neck.

“But she is!” Eddie exclaims.

“Well, she’s off limits,” Steve quickly shuts the idea down, "For everybody in this town, especially you.” He points an accusing finger at Eddie, and Eddie can’t help the way his eyes roll. What could Eddie possibly do to somebody like you? As if you would even give him a chance.

“Plus, I’m pretty sure she’s dating some douchebag quarterback from her school. She’s got a new boyfriend every time she comes home.” Steve grumbles— which immediately confirms it; you would never give Eddie, someone who has never willingly touched any set of balls other than his own, the time of day.

That doesn’t mean Eddie can’t admit you’re drop-dead gorgeous, though. Because you are. And Eddie kind of forgets what he’s doing here in the first place until Steve unbuckles himself and gets out, and Eddie remembers— oh yeah, I’m here to pick up this extremely hot girl in my extremely run-down van.

Whatever.

Eddie will live, he thinks. He unbuckles and gets out of the van, rounding the front of his van to step onto the sidewalk, where Steve calls your name and grabs your attention. You spot them immediately, your expression unreadable as you wave a flight attendant over to follow you. And yeah, that’s more than three suitcases being pushed behind you.

You glance at Eddie when you get closer, your cute little kitten heels clicking against the cement floor— who wears heels to the airport?

“This is disgusting.” You say as you gesture to the air. And Eddie couldn’t agree more. This heat is disgusting, and he couldn’t imagine being in it with heels. 

Steve hums, “Welcome back to paradise.”

You roll your eyes, handing your carry-on to Steve. Steve grunts at the weight of it, glaring at you as he stumbles from your force, “Did you fucking move out?” he stresses when he sees the cart of suitcases behind you. You grimace, “Like I would ever move here. Where’s your car?” 

You don’t acknowledge Eddie as you glance around, and Eddie’s honestly too stunned to speak— and is that your perfume he’s smelling? Jesus Christ, Eddie wants to fall to his knees right here on this cracked pavement. 

Steve rolls his eyes at your response and turns to open the back doors of the van, “My car wouldn’t be able to hold your fifty suitcases, so I came prepared,” he throws a fake smile as he tosses your bag in, ignoring your warning to, “Be careful with my stuff, asshole.”

Steve waves you off before he gestures lazily to Eddie, “This is my friend, Eddie, by the way.”

And for the first time, you look at Eddie. It’s then that Eddie’s bodily autonomy finally comes back, and he remembers that he has control over his limbs. He waves, tossing out a lazy hey as he opens the back doors of his van, “Heard tons about you,” he grunts as he loads in another suitcase.

You huff as you cross your arms, “I doubt it.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, not much.” He admits. “But when I heard Malibu Barbie was coming into town, I knew I had to see her for myself.” He winks.

You grimace, rolling your eyes with a groan, “Gross.” You grumble before yanking the side doors open and stepping in.

Eddie can’t help but smile as he finishes loading your suitcases.

Steve had run off somewhere to find an ATM; something about needing to tip the attendant who helped you with your luggage, so it’s only you and Eddie in the van when Eddie hops back into the driver's seat. 

It’s silent for a moment, achingly so, and Eddie takes it upon himself to turn the radio on, forgetting that the volume had been amped to the highest level. The music blares through his speakers— nearly blows them out— and Eddie almost jumps out of his seat as he scrambles to reduce the volume, awkwardly laughing as he glances back at you and speaks, “Sorry about that…”

You don’t say anything. Instead, you stay seated, arms crossed over your chest, legs crossed, and your glossed lips pouted in boredom. Eddie turns back to the front, the radio now a soft hum as he taps his decorated fingers on the steering wheel. He purses his lips briefly, his skin itching because Eddie has never done well with silence, so— “You listen to Iron Maiden?” He asks.

“No.” You flatly respond.

Your tone is dull and bored, and Eddie nods again as if it softens the blow. Eddie avoids opening his mouth again, too afraid that whatever comes out will just piss you off even more, so he keeps quiet. But he can’t help it when his gaze flickers up to find you in his rearview mirror, watching as you huff and gaze out the window. 

It’s silent for a few long, crippling minutes before you speak, “Does this thing not have AC?”

Eddie purses his lips, fingertips tapping against his thigh as he shrugs, “Just takes a second.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you mumble, “Course it does.” 

Eddie lets it fall silent for a moment again, but Eddie’s never been one to like silence, so— “How’s college?”

“Do you usually talk this much?” You suddenly ask, tilting your head and narrowing your eyes at him. Eddie snorts, glancing around the airport for any sign of Steve, and he responds, “No, actually, I usually talk more than this. Wait ‘til you get me going about D&D.” He scoffs. 

Your face twists in confusion, “D&D?”

Eddie waits for a moment before turning to gaze at you. You look at him, an unwavering expression plastered across your face as you wait for Eddie to speak.

“…You don’t know what Dungeons and Dragons is?”

You blink at Eddie, definitely contemplating if you could catch a flight back home before you respond, “Am I supposed to?”

Eddie shrugs, “Well, I mean, it’s only like the greatest game to ever fucking exist.” He stresses.

You roll your eyes and softly groan in disgust, “Ew. If you’re about to nerd out on me, I’d rather walk home in the heat.” You grimace.

And Eddie pauses, contemplating the amount of damage he’ll do if he continues to ramble about his favorite game— then he’ll really have zero chance with you, that’s for sure. But it’s not like he ever had one in the first place, right? 

Eddie turns back around, watching as people bustle around the airport. “Do you like games?” He can’t help but ask.

You take a slow and long breath, gathering your patience before you reply, “I can’t remember the last time I played a game, so no.”

Eddie’s face twists in concern, “What do you do for fun?” He glances in the mirror, watching as you gaze out the window.

You shrug, watching people as you speak, “Spend my dad’s money.”

Eddie lets it fall silent for a moment, a few responses rolling around in his head before you roll your eyes and speak again, “It was a joke. I’m not a spoiled brat.”

“Oh,” Eddie awkwardly laughs before glancing at you. “Well, the heels and cart full of suitcases didn’t exactly sell a ‘humble woman’ picture.”

You laugh then, “I didn’t say I was humble; I said I’m not a spoiled brat.”

“What’s the difference?”

“There’s a difference.” You mutter, crossing your arms over your chest. Eddie thinks it’s cute, the way you get flustered by his smart mouth. He wonders how much he can push and prod before you explode.

But before he can respond, Steve is swinging the passenger door open and hoping in, glaring back at you when he speaks, “Next time you come here— and god forbid you do— maybe try to keep the bags to a minimum of two. I just tipped that dude a hundred bucks.” He complains.

You teasingly coo at your step-brother, “Poor Stevie, having to use my dad’s money to pay for things.”

Eddie snorts at that, earning Steve's glare, which quickly directs Eddie’s attention to pull out of the airport. Steve settles in his seat, ignoring your annoyed mood as he grumbles, “Told you she’s an asshole.”

“Not bigger than yours.” You quickly whip back.

Eddie can’t help but chuckle. So, the princess does have humor.

The house is quiet, something you hadn’t expected given how obnoxious Steve is, though you don’t take it for granted as you flip through a magazine and let the TV play in the back.

You don’t like coming into town, you never have. It’s dull and dreary in Hawkins, and you’re not quite sure why your father would give up the sunny California weather for this. Conservative townies that grow and die here— that’s all this town has to offer.

But there’s no point in complaining; you’re stuck here for the whole summer; otherwise, your dad will stop paying for your school. So, you do what you can to take your mind off of it, which includes drifting through magazines and wasting away with shitty TV shows.

Your stepmother has been home from work for nearly an hour, but you hardly give her complete sentences, so she made herself scarce. Her son, however, doesn’t get the memo as he bursts into the room. You say nothing, eyeing him as he sits on the opposite side of the couch and puts on his shoes.

“Get up, we’re going out.”

You train your eyes back on the magazine in your hands as you boredly mumble, “Not interested.”

Steve hums in annoyance as he shoves his right foot into a shoe, “Mom said I have to include you in shit, and I’m not in the mood to get bitched at for your shitty mood, so— get up, we’re going out.” He repeats before standing up to place his hands on his hips and look at you. You glare at him from behind the magazine before closing it, folding it over your stomach as you tilt your head, “And where exactly are we going? I can’t imagine there’s anything fun in this town— at least none that you would know of.” You jeer.

Steve sneers at you, stepping forward to dig the toe of his shoe into your shin, earning an annoyed kick from you. You swat at him with the magazine, striking him and earning a few curse words as Steve rips it from you and tosses it on the coffee table. He huffs as he turns to you with a huff, “Eddie’s band is playing tonight.” 

And that’s rich. It’s incredibly bold of Steve to believe you would ever willingly submit yourself to hear his weird, gross friend spit out nonsense into a mic. As if you hadn’t had enough of them two on the drive here. You scoff, leaning forward to grab your now crinkled magazine before laying back on the couch with a scoff, “Absolutely not.”

Steve snatches the magazine yet again, tossing it onto the opposite side of the couch as he glares down at you, “Too bad.” He snaps, stepping over your legs and walking over to the front door, “I’m leaving in ten,” he grabs his keys off the mantle, “Be ready, or I’ll drag you out myself.”

You watch him walk out with a slam of the door, a refusal dancing on your tongue. And Steve is, in no way, your boss. You’ll cut off your limbs before you let Steve boss you around— but fuck. If his mom is this hellbent on you two spending time together, you’re sure she’ll throw a fit at your refusal, which will ultimately end up being your dad’s problem, and he won’t hesitate to cut you off money-wise. So, with a dramatic huff and an undeniable reluctance, you stomp up to your room and get dressed.

The bar is exactly what you’d imagined— loud, grungy, and somewhere you would never be caught dead in. Yet, here you stand, arms crossed with a tabletop dogging into your lower back and a scowl etched across your face.

The smell of sweat, liquor, and cigarettes wraps around you like a dusty old jacket, sticky floors snapping beneath your shoes with every move you make. The walls are covered in graffiti, posters, and old stickers, and the crowd is primarily full of ripped denim, fishnets, and loud groups of friends.

It's not your scene.

Though you can’t seem to stop watching.

It’s like a movie. Something is happening in every corner of the place, with loud music blaring through the speakers and dancing lights kissing the grimy space. It’s chaotic. It’s noisy and dirty. And you feel so… misplaced.

Your outfit isn’t screaming country club, but it surely isn’t screaming anything close to this.

Steve brought a few other friends along, none of whom you care to learn the names of or attempt to hold a conversation with. You’re too busy trying to ignore the intense burning sensation of smoke in your eyes. 

“So, how long are you in town for?”

You glance over at the girl; you think her name is Robin, and shrug, “Unfortunately, the whole summer.” You sigh.

Robin hums, lips pursing in an apologetic look, “Bummer. Can’t imagine giving up a Californian summer for Hawkins.” 

You huff, something like a grim smile splitting your lips, “Wasn’t exactly my choice, but,” you shrug again, “No point in crying now.”

Robin raises her glass to that and takes a sip, allowing you to turn back to gaze about the room. You catch a few people headbanging near the stage, smiling as they enjoy the music pouring through the speakers. After a few moments, you lean into Robin. “Is it always this… rowdy?” you ask.

Robin follows your eyes to the group of friends by the stage and smiles, “This place was a shit hole a few years back, actually. Wasn’t much of anything, but Corroded Coffin brings some traction and, well, their music is pretty intense, just like their listeners.”

Your face twists in confusion then, “Corroded Coffin?”

Robin smiles with a nod, “Yeah, Eddie’s band.”

You nod and drag in a breath, diverting your attention back to the stage. So these people listen to Eddie’s music, or at least music similar to Eddie’s. You find yourself annoyingly intrigued. 

You gaze at the empty stage that awaits the band, and you hardly realize your mind has wandered as you begin to wonder what kind of show Eddie’s band will put on. Are they any good? You doubt it, honestly— you’re two minutes from a headache already. 

You’re not left wondering for long before the boys step onto the stage— four of them, all incredibly different in style yet cohesive in presentation. 

The lights shift, reds and blues pouring over the stage as the band takes their place, adjusting instruments and whatnot. You recognize Eddie immediately as he steps up to the mic, testing it for feedback.

He looks different up there. He looks like he belongs. Like this is his place, where he’s meant to be. The messy hair that you’d wrinkled your nose towards at the airport fits perfectly beneath the dim, flashing lights. His tattoos almost look as if they’re on display, like this is an art museum, and he is presenting the art on himself, there on the stage beneath the red hues.

He’s wearing a worn-out band tee with a name you don’t recognize, the sleeves cut off, and the sides ripped open just enough to be irritating. You can see his muscles working beneath his skin, tensing and relaxing as he moves about. He adjusts the mic, entirely at ease, like he’s done this a thousand times before. 

He greets the small crowd, humble with the low rumble of his voice, and beside you, Robin hollers out a small cheer that makes you jump— you’d been so lost in watching everyone that you’d almost forgotten you weren’t here alone.

His eyes drift towards the back where you are seated with Steve and his friends, mumbling a low thank you to Robin in the mic before his eyes dance a little to her left, and he meets yours. It’s only for a second before he looks away, and you find yourself relieved not to have been caught in that situation as he glances down at the guitar slung across his body, skilled fingers working the tuning pegs.

And then he smiles to himself.

It’s lazy and confident, the kind of smile that says I know you’re watching.

Your teeth dig into your tongue, your gaze immediately snapping away as if you’ve been caught looking at something you shouldn’t have been looking at. 

And as if he knew you were grappling with your resolve and only aimed to torment you more, the first note crashes through the speaker, and the show begins. 

It’s loud and raw. Nowhere close to the polished music you listen to, but despite your innate desire to hate everything about it— the rowdy crowd, the thrumming of bass on your chest, the chaos of it all— you only find yourself fascinated more than anything.

You sneak a few glances at Eddie every now and then. Quick ones that you will, later on, string together in your mind to create a stop-motion picture. He’s lost in it. He sings like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted to do besides breathing. His fingers fly over the fret of his guitar like he was born with it in his hands— and he works the stage like it’s nothing. He owns every inch of this room whether you like it or not— and the scary part is… you don’t seem to dislike it.

And as if that isn’t bad enough, Eddie keeps looking at you.

At every glance, no matter how little or discreet you try to be, Eddie’s eyes always find yours first. As if they never left. And in between songs, when he’s changing the tuning of his instrument or addressing the crowd, his eyes drift off towards the back and onto you, lingering long enough for you to feel it. 

And you refuse to react. You know what this is. You know what he’s doing, teasing and provoking your disdain for this night, and you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you crack.

After what feels like an eternity, the set ends. The bar erupts in applause, hoots, and hollers, and the band thanks them all as they hop down from the stage.

You stay glued to your seat, untouched drink resting on the table beside you as you watch Eddie and his band pack up the stage. You lose interest after some time, eyes going back to watching the different scenes of the room. And you had been so focused on everything around you that you didn’t even notice the curly-headed boy make his way up to you.

“Didn’t peg you for a metal fan, princess.”

You look at him, the devilish smirk on his face as he drags a barstool next to you and swings a leg over— invading your space. You can feel how warm he is, seeping through your clothes and penetrating your very soul as you wonder if he knows the concept of personal space.

“I’m not.” You boredly reply.

His brows raise for a split moment, taunting just like his voice as he asks, “No?”

“No.”

“And yet here you are.” He gestures to the dingy bar. 

You scoff out a humorless laugh, “Not by choice.” 

Eddie grins, shifting on the barstool to let his legs hang more open. You look— just for a second. The thickness of his thighs, the way they strain against his jeans. Stupid. You snap your gaze away before he can notice.

Eddie snags your drink without asking. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself.” He says, briefly sniffing the drink before deciding it’ll do. His lips press right over the stain of your lipstick. You know he notices. 

Your stomach tenses, but your expression never falters from neutral as you watch him toss the drink back. He drags his pink tongue between his lips, savoring the taste. 

The sight is infuriating. 

“Take drugs before your little show?” You ask, voice dry.

Eddie hums, snapping his tongue at the taste of your drink before pointing a finger at you matter-of-factly, “I did, actually.”

You condescendingly coo, “Must explain your hallucinations then.”

Eddie chuckles, slow and lazy, as if he expected that response. He shifts on the barstool, taking his time to think, swirling his finger around the rim of the glass a few times before tilting his head toward you, “No one’s gonna, like, lose it if you say you liked the show, you know?” He points out. 

Your jaw tightens. 

“I mean,” he continues, “given the few precious hours I’ve gotten to know you,” he places a faux-heartfelt hand over his chest, leaning in like he’s making some grand confession, “I don’t think you’d waste a second being somewhere you don’t want to be.”

You grimace at his theatrical performance. But the worst part?

He’s not wrong.

You hate wasting your time, and you don’t put yourself in situations you can’t stand. But did you really have a choice tonight? Not when Steve’s mom is at home, probably working out a million ways to make your life a living hell by forcing you to spend time with her perfect son.

You shrug, playing it off, “Again, not by choice.”

Eddie hums, clicking his tongue as he shakes his head, “Everyone has a choice, princess.” He lulls, slowly letting a lopsided grin split across his lips when he looks at you. 

The heat that pricks at the base of your neck is aggravating. Not from embarrassment— from irritation. Or at least that’s what you tell yourself. And you thank god the lights in here are dim because, god forbid, Eddie sees any physical evidence of his effect on you.

He’d probably misconstrue it and think you liked him. 

You ignore him, “Don’t call me that.” 

Eddie hums, tilting his head like he didn’t hear you, “What? Princess?” 

“Yes.”

He purses his lips briefly, considering, before grinning again, “Would you rather be called Barbie— because those are my top names for you, doll.” He offers. 

Your stomach churns at the thought. 

You visibly cringe then, looking at him as you make a sound of disgust, “Neither.” 

Eddie gives shrugs, “Why not? It fits you.”

You roll your eyes, unable to keep the annoyed look off your face, “Because it’s annoying.” 

“So are you.”

You freeze.

Your eyes snap to him, glaring and hot.  He’s smirking around the rim of your glass before tipping back the rest of the drink like it’s his.

“Excuse me?” You bite out. 

Eddie puts the empty glass down and slides off the barstool with a deep sigh, swinging it back over to the table he’d stolen it from before throwing a wink your way, “Thanks for coming to the show, princess.”

And as he walks away, leaving you steaming, you realize—

This is going to be your entire summer.

The first weeks of summer are miserable.

A thick and relentless heatwave has settled over Hawkins, turning every breath into a chore. It clings to you, wrapping around your bones from the second you wake up to the moment you rest your head on your pillow again. It makes every movement exhausting. 

You spend most of your days sitting in front of a fan, dreaming about California— the cool ocean breeze, the lack of mosquitoes, the ability to breathe without suffocating. 

When the sun begins to dip behind the trees, you escape to the backyard, wasting hours by the pool, dangling your legs in the water, relaxing in the few hours of cool air the evening brings you

At night, you run up the phone bill, flipping onto your back and spending hours talking to friends from school, twirling the cord around your fingers, your friend's voices drifting through the static. You talk about everything— who’s dating who, what parties you’re missing, how much you want to be anywhere but here. 

Inevitably and routinely, Steve ruins it.

He always does.

“Shut up!” He yells from the intercepted line, “Some of us actually want to sleep!” 

You roll your eyes, pressing the phone harder against your ear. You don’t shut up, and you don’t ever plan on it.

Steve isn’t the only problem this summer, though.

No— he’s not even the worst one.

Because for the first time in the history of knowing Steve, he is not the leading cause of your headaches. 

That honor belongs to Eddie Munson.

Eddie is obnoxiously, disgustingly everywhere. 

And you don’t know why.

You’re not sure what path of destruction Steve has chosen, but suddenly, Eddie is constantly in your house. 

It’s like some rotting, stoner apocalypse has overtaken the upstairs— video games blaring, pantry raids, the distinct smell of weed they air out through Steve’s window— it’s twenty-four seven.

And no matter what you do or where you go, Eddie makes sure you know he’s there.

— As you walk past Steve’s room:

“Bring up a soda when you come back, princess!”

“No!”

“Worth a shot.”

— Late at night, when you’re sneakily digging through your stepmother’s stash of chocolate:

“Don’t you get tired of having to match all of your pajamas? I’ve never seen you in regular shorts and t-shirts.”

“Don’t you get tired of wearing that ratty old t-shirt every day?”

Eddie grins, “You noticed. Cute.”

— Or in the backseat of Chase’s car as he drives you to a friend's house:

“You look good today, special occasion?”

“Stop trying to hit on me. Steve, tell your friend to stop hitting on me.”

Steve rolls his eyes as Eddie responds, “I think you like it.” 

“It kills me inside a little, honestly.”

“God, that’s so hot.”

“Gross.”

It’s constant.

It’s guaranteed at this rate that if Eddie is in the vicinity, he’ll find a way to get on your nerves. And the most annoying part of it all is you feel something. There in the pit of your stomach, or sometimes your chest. 

You think it might be early onset asthma from the amount of secondhand smoke you’ve had to endure around him.

That being said, since you’ve spent the past few weeks growing used to Eddie’s constant presence, you can’t help but notice how he has yet to bother you at the bonfire Steve has dragged you to— another courtesy of his darling mother.

You hadn’t seen much of Eddie all night, only at the start of the evening when he had first arrived. And with Eddie and Steve being your only ‘friends’ here and the former having gone missing, you’re kind of pissed when Steve says he’s going off to be with some girl for the night.

“Why can’t you drop me off at home now?” You frown as you storm after your stepbrother. Steve groans, “Because it’s a total boner killer— oh, sorry, I just have to drop off my sister at home real quick,” he mockingly says before cringing, “Are you kidding me? No.” He scoffs.

You’re the one to groan now, stomping after him as he weaves through the cars parked on the hill in front of the lake— “You can’t just leave me here, Steve!” You stress as Steve makes it to his car, which is already occupied by a girl in the passenger seat as she waits for him.

Steve glances at you, “Would you relax? I’m not leaving you stranded; I’ll be gone for an hour— maybe two.” He rolls his eyes when you dramatically groan. “Look, just talk to someone to pass the time. And if you really want to leave, find Eddie.” He shrugs before opening his door.

“I haven’t even seen him all night.” You point out, to which Steve just shrugs again before pointing over your shoulder, “Couldn’t have gone far if his van is still here.”

And sure enough, when you glance over your shoulder, Eddie’s van is parked just a few cars down. You turn back to plead for Steve to take you home but are disappointed to see him already in his car, waving a taunting hand in farewell as he backs out.

Then you’re stranded. You’re stuck, all by yourself, at a bonfire you could care less about with people you don’t even know.

And you miss home more than you can afford to admit.

You find yourself walking towards Eddie’s van, leaves crunching beneath your feet as you grumble your way to the front of the car. Given the height of the vehicle, it's hard, but you manage to climb your way up onto the van's hood, cool metal pressing against your thighs as you settle on it. 

You’re hardly paying attention when Eddie walks up, too busy plotting ways to escape back to your home when he clears his throat. You look up, catching his gaze as he walks up to the front of the van, tilting his head in question as he looks at you perched upon his car.

“Didn’t know you’re so eager to see me, doll.” He smirks.

You roll your eyes, glancing away at the distant flicker of fire, “Don’t flatter yourself; Steve left me stranded here, so I need a ride home.” You grumble at the last part, glaring at him when he hums.

Eddie grins, walking closer until he can turn and rest against the car's grille, “Left you with good company then.” He teases as he digs out a cigarette from his pocket.

You roll your eyes, ignoring the heat of his body seeping into the skin of your leg. “I’d beg to differ.”

He snickers, pearly teeth peeking out behind his grin as he sticks the cigarette between his lips. You watch him light the end of the stick, thin trails of smoke leaving the side of his mouth before he pulls in one quick drag. 

He exhales, a cloud of smoke wrapping around you both as he glances at you, shifting with a deep sigh before he speaks, “So,” he starts, “What’s it like? The whole college thing.”

You think for a moment, glancing at the bonfire some yards away before you shrug, kicking your heel again, “Fast. Loud. Always something going on.” You briefly reply. 

Eddie hums as he takes another drag, “Sounds awful.”

You huff a small laugh, “Yeah, you’d hate it.” You agree— which is true. Most days, you hate it, too.

You nudge him with your foot, suppressing a grin when he nudges you back as you ask, “What about you?”

Eddie snorts, “M’not in college, princess.”

You roll your eyes, “I know that,” you dismiss, “I meant, like… Do you ever plan on leaving this place?”

Eddie hesitates momentarily, distracting himself with his cigarette before he shrugs, “Nah.”

You suspect he’s lying, but he doesn’t give you a chance to pry before he speaks up, “You ever smoked before?”

Your lips curl in disgust, “No. Gross habit.” You grumble.

Eddie glances at you, raising an eyebrow as he takes a drag. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” he says, plucking the cigarette from his lips and raising it to you. “Go ahead, princess. Let’s see what you’re made of, " he challenges. 

Your face twists in disgust as you glare at the burning paper between his fingers, “No thanks.”

Eddie hums, tilting his head tauntingly, “Scared?” He teases. 

“No.” You snap.

He wiggles the cigarette at you, “Then take a hit.” He says with a teasing lilt to his voice.

You glare down at him, eyes slightly narrowed— and it’s so stupid. You know Eddie is only doing this as some silly way of provoking you. You know he wants you to do the predictable thing, which is snap back with some witty remark, but as you look at the curly-haired boy smirking up at you with that dark glint in his eye, you know there’s only one thing you have to do.

You take the cigarette.

“Fine.” You grumble. 

Eddie raises a brow as he turns to face you. He now stands before you, watching you turn the burning paper between your fingers. “Pointers?” You ask.

Eddie’s lips twitch in a smirk, boots crunching against the leaves as he steps closer, the chain on his pants brushing against your ankle. “Don’t cough and embarrass yourself.” He teases, to which you roll your eyes, “Helpful.” You mutter. 

He grins as he cages you in, one palm pressed to the hood of the car as the other gestures to the unlit end of the cigarette, “Lips here and just inhale slow; don’t overthink it.” 

You nod, gazing at the cigarette before you shrug and bring it to your lips with not much of a mental preparation— because how hard can it be to smoke a cigarette? Apparently, it’s hard— because one moment you’re breathing just fine, and the next you’re coughing up a lung on Eddie Munson’s car hood.

You cringe, coughing violently as your eyes well up with tears. “Shit—” you hold up the cigarette with a grimace, “People actually like this stuff?” You question with a groggy voice, coughs still sputtering up from your chest. Eddie laughs, a real, guttural laugh, as he takes his gift from you, “Good, right?” He asks.

You shake your head, eyes wild, as you look at him. “No! Not at all, " you stress. “I won’t be trying that again.” You shake your head, watching as he takes a drag, lips pulled into a smirk as he looks at you.

He blows the smoke off to the side, still gazing up at you as he jokes, “You’re already halfway to a badass reputation, princess.”

You roll your eyes, pressing your palms onto the car hood as you slightly lean forward, your body slowly relaxing after having nearly lost a lung. “Right, because sharing a cigarette with a guy like you in the middle of a shitty bonfire is exactly how I pictured my future as a child.”

Eddie rolls his tongue behind his cheek for a moment, his lips twitching with something like a lazy smile before he asks, “A guy like me?”

You hum in confirmation, and he slightly narrows his eyes. “What does that look like?” He asks.

Your eyes dance, something charged dancing between you both that you, upon weak judgment, decide to ignore. 

“Reckless. Irresponsible. Cocky.” You list off.

Eddie hums, feigning understanding, “Bad company for a girl like you, I assume?” He prods. 

And you don’t have to ask what he thinks you are before you nod, “Absolutely.”

It falls silent momentarily, that charged sensation thickening between you both. And maybe you hadn’t been aware of it; perhaps you had been so wrapped up in the conversation, but you’re not exactly sure when Eddie’s hands had gotten so close to yours.

You can feel his warmth; right there, just inches away for you to grasp and sink your palms into. His calloused fingertips are ghostly sensations against your soft knuckles, daring you to inch forward and just touch him. The space between your fingers buzzes, like a current threatening to connect. 

You could do it.

You kind of want to do it.

It would take nothing to close the distance. 

And Eddie? He’s waiting.

His brown eyes— dark and rich like the earth you walk on— flicker downwards and take in the sight of the space between your hands. 

And you know Eddie.

You’ve been around Eddie enough to know that he likes touch; Eddie communicates through it like his words won’t do his warmth justice. So, when his gaze flickers back to you, and there’s that look swimming in his gaze, you know what he wants to do.

You know he wants to let his touch speak for itself.

And you nearly let your desires win.

But in the distance, a bottle crashes, and an eruption of cheers lifts, and you’re back in your body.

Your spine stiffens. Your throat tightens. Your stomach churns. And your fingers curl away from him.

You pull away— not abruptly, but just enough that the moment feels as if it’s lingering like the smoke that had left Eddie’s lungs minutes ago.

You blink, pulling in the crisp summer air as you sit up, putting space where there was none.

“So, can you drive me home or not?”

Eddie blinks, the moment fractured between you— and you think he might speak on it. 

But he says nothing. 

Disappointment swirls in his eyes, barely showing before it’s gone. You take in a breath, glancing away as he pulls back and clears his throat, dusting his thumb across his nose in nervous habit as he nods, “Uh,” he blinks, flicking the cigarette to the ground and crushing it beneath his boot.

You hate the feeling that stirs in your chest, and you hate that you want to fix it. But Eddie nods anyway, fishing his keys from his pocket and forcing a half-hearted smile.

“Yeah, princess, let’s get you home.”

I wanna take you home

I won't do you no harm, no

You've gotta be all mine, all mine

Aw shucks, foxey lady

- foxey lady x jimi hendrix

part two.

cutie teeny taglist: @kellsck @your-nightmaredoll @hereforshmut @emxxblog @mdurdenpitt @glassbxttless @peculiarwren @aactuaaltraash @daveythorntonslocker

————

a/n: HIII if you’ve made it this far i hope you enjoyed the first part to this little 5 part series !! i’ve got a packed summer planned for these two so i hope you’ll stick along for the ride :) also, expect smut next chappy hehe. anyway, as always, thank you for reading, ily and appreciate any and all forms of feedback <3

[frostiexavier]

-ˏˋ Snowy Homecoming ˊˎ

✩credits to XXi_PHYLLIS on X for the photo used ✩

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

ੈ✩‧₊˚ summary: Zayne’s parents invite you to their vacation cabin home for the weekend to reunite and talk about your new relationship.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ warnings: alot of fluff, crying, zayne gets embarrassed ALOT, falling (literally), food mentioned, uhhh idk it gets sappy

ੈ✩‧₊˚ word count: 6.3k

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

“Are you ready?”, Zayne asks as he grabs both sets of luggage and places them in the trunk of his car. His black trench coat flowing backwards as the wind from the trunk hits it.

You can’t deny you are nervous and excited. You have known Zayne’s parents your entire life and are very comfortable around them. However, this feels different, after informing them of your new relationship together they were astounded. His parents were so happy to know you both established a romantic relationship as they have always wanted for the both of you. They adored you and only wanted the best for you and Zayne. They know you so well which puts you at ease but also makes you nervous to see them again after so long. Now being in a relationship with their son, it feels like an official meeting and a big step in your relationship. You have only been dating for about three months but it feels like years since you have both known each other for so long.

“I guess so”, you say nervously, fidgeting with your fingers. Zayne softly smiles and walks towards you. He readjusts your toboggan as you look up to him.

“Don’t be nervous, these are my parents we are talking about. They love you already.”, he smiles as he finishes his adjustment. He can’t help but admire the pink puffer jacket you are wearing with a white turtleneck and black sweatpants. He finds you adorable in your cold weather attire.

“I know that and I love them too. It’s just that, now they are going to see me as your girlfriend and not your goofy childhood friend”, you look up at him and he places his hand on your cheek, cupping it and rubbing his thumb slowly.

“Don’t worry, I know you are nervous but just be your goofy self like you always are”, he smirks and you smile while playfully rolling your eyes.

“Okay I’ll try, I just don’t want them to think of me differently like I corrupted their son or something”, you say and he can’t help but giggle at your statement.

“Corrupt me huh? Who is to say I haven’t corrupted you?”, he whispers in your ear then winks at you. You swat at his arm and he chuckles.

“Alright let’s go my corrupter, it’s supposed to snow soon”, he says making his way toward your door then opening it, waiting for you to take your spot in the passenger seat. You oblige and get settled in the passenger seat as Zayne makes his way to the drivers side. He gets in and you're off to his parents vacation house.

They invited you both to stay a weekend with them in their snowy vacation cabin getaway. The house is right next to a resort that has a big ski slope, snowboarding and other fun winter activities. You have never been to anything like this before so you are happy to be going with Zayne. Your thoughts were interrupted when you feel Zayne’s hand on your thigh. You look over to see one hand on the steering wheel and one hand on your thigh. You instantly blush at the sudden contact. Zayne has admitted that he doesn’t have much experience when it comes to relationships, he was open about this from the beginning. You have been patient with him when it comes to initiating anything physical because you know he is nervous. So anytime he initiates something, your heart flutters a bit.

“Is this okay?”, he asks, looking at you and you smile while nodding. You place your hand on top of his and he lets go of your thigh to interlock your fingers. You look over at him and his face wears a small smile. You both sit in comfortable silence for a while until Zayne asks you a question.

“So, what are you looking forward to doing the most? There are a lot of activities we can do together there”, he says, adjusting his fingers with yours.

“I’m not sure, I haven’t done any of these things before so I’m a little nervous to try them”, you admit that you're anxious. What if you fall down the snowy hill and roll on for miles because you can’t stop? That would be so embarrassing. Or worse, what if you don’t fall and trip for an extended period of time in front of him? The thought alone makes you want to melt into your seat.

“Don’t be nervous, I can teach you whatever you want to learn to do. I have done most of these activities multiple times so I can help”, he says wiggling your hands together for reassurance.

“Okay but you can’t laugh if I fall, trip or make a fool of myself”, you say to him and wait for him to make a promise to you.

“I will try to hold it in but I cannot guarantee that”, he smiles.

“Zayne!”, you say surprised by his response and let go of his hand. You fold your arms to your chest and look out the window.

“I’m sorry but I can’t promise you that. What if you fall in a cute way, I won’t be able to control my laughter”, he says smiling just thinking about it.

“Please forgive me and I apologize in advance if I do in fact laugh”, he says tugging at the end of your puffer jacket. You still face away from him but interlock your hands together again. Heat rises in your cheeks when you feel Zayne squeeze your hand gently.

After about an hour's drive you both arrive at the vacation cabin. The place is enormous and is very luxurious. The cabin is something out of a real estate magazine for very rich people. Zayne parks the car in the driveway and faces you.

“You ready? Remember there is no need to be nervous okay?”, he says, placing his hand to your cheek. You relax against his touch and nod. You know that everything will be fine but you can’t help your nerves. Just as you are about to say something you see Zayne’s parents making their way out of the house and towards his car. He sees the nervousness on your face and turns around to see his parents, he waves at them through the windows of the vehicle.

“Let’s go”, he says and you nod. Zayne opens the door first and you follow suit, getting out of the passenger side.

“Zayne honey oh my goodness, how have you been?”, Zayne's mom immediately goes to hug Zayne and he hugs her back gently.

“I’m fine mom, have you been well?”, he asks and she nods, moving back a bit.

“I’ve been wonderful, sweetie”, she smiles at him. Once his mom says her greetings his dad hugs him as well.

“Welcome back son, it's been too long”, he says, patting his back during the hug. Zayne hugs his dad then pulls away. You can’t help but smile seeing the sweet relationship he has with his parents.

“Good to see you too dad”, Zayne says, pulling away from the hug. As soon as his dad pulls away they all focus their attention on me.

“Y/N is that you?”, Zayne’s mom says in surprise as she looks past Zayne and you make eye contact. You gently smile and wave at his parents.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Li”, you say walking toward them as they make their way toward you as well. Zayne’s mom instantly embraces you in a hug. You hug her back and she holds you gently by the arms as she pulls back.

“What’s with the formalities kiddo? You never call us that”, Zayne’s father says as he pats your head. You instantly feel relaxed and all your nervousness goes away. Zayne was right, it feels exactly like before when I was a kid. Your heart swells at how welcoming they are and how happy they are to see you again.

“Sweetheart you look gorgeous and so grown up. When Zayne told me you both were dating I literally screamed over the phone. I couldn't believe our Y/N and Zayne were finally together”, she says going back in for another hug, this one lasting a bit longer as she sways us side to side. You can’t help but hug her back tightly, feeling a sense of home with them.

“It’s so nice to see you both again. Thank you for welcoming me so kindly”, you say while you both are still hugging. A smile present on your face.

“Oh dear, we are so happy to have you, you can come around anytime”, she says and pats you back as you sway. You make eye contact with Zayne and he smiles, approaching his mom.

“Okay mom, you are going to suffocate her”, Zayne says and pulls his mom back gently from your grasp. She giggles and pulls away, smiling ear to ear.

“I’m sorry dear I got carried away”, she laughs and holds Zayne's arm.

“Oh honey let’s get you inside, we are making dinner we better check on it”, Zayne’s dad insists with a smile and helps her back into the house. Zayne nods at his dad as they both go back inside the house.

“Well I told you they would be happy to see you”, Zayne smiles and you can’t help but feel a sense of relaxation from the encounter.

“Are you alright? Sorry, they were a bit much”, Zayne nervously moving toward you, examining your expression.

“Yeah I'm fine, I feel alot better now and the nerves are gone”, you smile at him and he smiles back down at you. He leans down and kisses your forehead, immediately making you blush.

“You can head inside and I’ll grab our bags. I know my mom has been waiting for you to arrive for some time now. She has been wanting to catch up”, he softly chuckles and you nod. You take a deep breath and make your way into the cabin.

The cabin was just as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside, if not more. The first floor was beautiful with wooden accents making everything feel homey. There was an upstairs level and you also couldn’t help but notice the amazing high ceilings. There was a beautiful fireplace with a cute living room set centered around it. The smell of dinner made you feel at home. You take off your puffer jacket and place it on the coat rack near the entrance. You can’t believe his family owns such a nice cabin. You smiled as Zayne’s dad walked back into the living room.

“Hi dear, my wife would love it if you could give her a hand in the kitchen. If you ask me, I think she just wants an excuse to talk to you. I’ll go help Zayne bring in your things”, he smiles and you laugh at him throwing Zayne’s mom under the bus. You always admired their cute and playful relationship. You walk into the kitchen to see an array of entrees and sides displayed for dinner.

“Oh hi sweetie, would you mind helping me set the dining table? I will go around and place the food on all plates. Is there something you don’t like? Just tell me your preferences”, she smiles warmly finishing the last dish she prepared. Everything looked wonderful and you couldn’t wait to try it.

“Everything looks amazing, if you don’t mind I will take a bit of everything”, you say grabbing the dishware and cutlery. Zayne’s mom smiles widely as she starts plating the food as you set the dishes down. Zayne’s mom was always so beautiful when she smiled, it's like she was glowing.

“Of course, you will have to let me know what you liked most okay?”, she giggles and you laugh with her. As you both got done she turns towards you in the kitchen.

“I don’t want to pry in your relationship but I just wanted to say I am so happy you both are together. Ever since you both were kids I always thought you were a good influence on Zayne. Now that you both are grown and found each other again, well it just makes my heart so happy”, she smiles and you feel a sense of belonging and warmth.

“Thank you, Mrs. Li. I always looked up to you growing up and your relationship with Mr. Li. I hope Zayne and I can have what you both have. It’s still new so we are figuring things out but we both are happy”, you smile and she starts to get teary eyed.

“Oh my goodness I didn’t mean to upset you Mrs. Li”, you say, grabbing a napkin nearby and handing it to her. She smiles and shakes her head.

“I’m not upset, I’m just happy. Me and your gran talked about the thought of you two being together years ago and I know this would have made her happy as well”, she says wiping her tears away with the napkin. The mention of gran made you tear up as well, Zayne’s mom notices you holding back so she hugs you in a warm embrace.

“You have always been like family to me and you are always welcomed here. We love you sweetheart”, she says and you begin to cry a bit more. Family and belonging is something you have yearned for and now you have it.

“What's going on? Did something happen?”, you hear the voice of Zayne’s dad ask in a worried tone.

“Y/N”, you hear Zayne as well. Zayne’s mom lets you go and you both turn toward them, tears in both of your eyes. Zayne now in only his black turtleneck and his sleeves slightly rolled up.

“Oh don’t worry about us, we just had a moment”, she laughs and you giggle with her wiping your tears away with a napkin as well. Both of their features soften as they both look between the two of you.

“That's enough sapping, let's eat! We have so much to catch up on over dinner”, his mom says while ushering us to the table. You and Zayne sit across from his parents. When you sit down Zayne grabs your hand and gently squeezes it underneath the table. His gesture makes you smile and you squeeze it back softly.

The dinner was delicious, everything Zayne’s mother prepared tasted like it came from a five star restaurant. You cleaned your plate a bit quicker than you would like to admit. However the conversations lasted longer after all the plates were emptied. Everyone talked about old times and what you and Zayne were like as kids. You talked about how you thought Zayne disliked you as a kid growing up and his parents laughed.

“Are you kidding? Zayne never stopped talking about you when you were younger. He would always come home after school and tell us about your time together and all the jokes you would tell him. He always thought your jokes were so funny he had to share them with us. He would work day in and day out in his room making study plans for you to help you out in school. We always thought he had a little crush on you.”, Zayne’s dad exclaimed. This was new information to you, you looked over at Zayne who was wide eyed. His face painted with the cutest shade of pink, and his ears to match.

“Can we not talk about this?”, Zayne says looking down at his palms.

“Oh he would also look up those little collectables you liked online. He couldn’t afford them so he begged us to do chores around the house so he could buy them for you.”, his dad smiles and his mother shushes him, trying to not make Zayne more embarrassed than he already is.

You remember collectables always showing up in your locker with no note on who they were from. You always assumed Caleb put them there and never questioned it.

“That was you who put them in my locker?”, you ask, looking at him, he doesn’t make eye contact with you. This realization warms your heart, you could honestly cry but you hold back your tears. He only nods, he doesn’t say anything.

“I would also find letters in the trash that-“, his dad continued but was cut off.

“Dad, please”, Zayne asked in a firmer tone. His dad closed his mouth slowly and nodded.

“Honey, let's not embarrass them. Why don’t you both get settled upstairs? Come down when you are ready and we can make hot chocolate”, Zayne’s mom saves him from further embarrassment. You smile and nod at them as Zayne gets up from the table, you follow suit.

Zayne doesn’t say anything as he walks up the stairs and into a bedroom. You follow him and you can’t help but admire how beautifully decorated the room was. There was a fireplace in this room as well with an attached bathroom. The whole room looked neat and spotless.

“This is the only other guest bedroom aside from my parents. I will take the couch downstairs”, Zayne says, grabbing his suitcase and goes to exit the room.

“Wait, you don’t have to sleep on the couch”, you say, grabbing his hand that is holding the suitcase. He looks down at your hands and looks back up at you. You quickly move your hands away.

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable”, he says looking at the ground.

“I don’t mind sharing, unless you are uncomfortable, then I can sleep on the couch”, you say and he shakes his head.

“No need, we can share if you are okay with that”, he says and you smile, nodding shyly. The silence in the room made the atmosphere not awkward but not comfortable either. Zayne was obviously devastated that his dad shared details that he didn’t want you to know from his teenage years. He also doesn’t know how to converse with you after that. You take the initiative to break the ice and push away any of his uncomfort.

“So how is your mom that good at cooking? I remember her packing me lunches sometimes but i’ve never had anything like that before”, you smile and you can see the relief leave his body.

“She has always been a good cook but I agree. She must have improved her skills knowing you would be visiting”, he laughs returning his suitcase next to yours.

You sit down on the bed and pat the spot beside you, referring him to sit down. He sits down beside you and you grab his hand. His skin is cool to the touch and you trace the small scars from his wrist down to his fingers.

“So what should we do first tomorrow? What is Dr. Zayne willing to teach me?”, you ask and he smiles

and cocks one eyebrow up at you.

“What are you willing to learn?”, he asks and you put a finger up to your chin, making it look like you are pondering his question.

“Hmmmm maybe snowboarding? Or skiing?”, you suggest and he nods.

“Alright, my mother already bought you an outfit to wear for any activities you might want to do while you are here. We can go to the slope after breakfast tomorrow. How does that sound?”, he says while watching you play with his hand, chill bumps forming on his skin.

“That sounds good. I will have to thank her for buying me an outfit, she is too nice”, you say with a smile and he places his other hand on top of yours. You look up to meet his gaze.

“I-um, we should unpack our things”, he lets go of your hand after a moment of eye contact. He is shying away from you. Is he that embarrassed about what his dad said?

Zayne quickly helps you unpack your things as he does his own unpacking as well. He showed you the cute outfit his mother bought you. It is a winter sports outfit that is pink and white. She also got you goggles to match. Zayne’s mom also bought him one to match but the colors are a dark blue and white with the same pattern as yours. You giggle knowing she wanted the both of you to match. He internally face palms but he smiles, not admitting he likes the concept of you both matching.

After unpacking you both head downstairs to join his parents in drinking some hot chocolate by the fireplace. You all are sitting around the living room talking and having a great time when Zayne’s mom claps her hands together, making everyone gain her attention.

“I almost forgot, I have something to show y/n”, she gets up from her seat and scurries away to the other room.

“Oh no, she is bringing it”, Zayne’s dad laughs and looks at Zayne.

“Bringing what?”, Zayne asks, curious to what his mother has planned.

She comes back with a giant book and she plants a seat next to you, making you sit between her and Zayne. The giant book reads “photo album” and you can’t help but smile knowing exactly what's about to happen.

“Is this what I think it is?”, you ask, smiling at his mom. She nods excitedly and you both giggle to each other.

“Mom, why did you bring this?”, Zayne asks with a bit of a whine making you laugh.

“Zayne let me have this. I have been dying to break out the baby photos since you’ve never had a girlfriend before I could show them to”, she laughs and opens the book. You are Zayne’s first girlfriend? You could feel him tense up against you after his mom dropped more new information about him. You oat his hand to non verbally tell him it's okay.

You join in with his mother basking at his baby photos. He was adorable as a baby. The more the pictures went on the older he got in the photos. Seeing Zayne in this new way made your heart melt. She keeps flipping until she stops on one photo.

“Look here is one of you two when you were little. How precious, you both look so cute”, it's a picture of you and Zayne standing side by side with lunch boxes in hand. You are smiling and posing with a V sign; meanwhile, Zayne was standing beside you with no expression on his face and looking into the camera. You can’t help but find it cute, he hasn’t changed much.

“Can I see that picture for a moment?”, you ask and she removes it from the album and hands it to you. You pull out your phone and snap a photo of it. You put your phone away and admire it a bit more. You look over your shoulder and show it to Zayne.

“Look at you, you haven’t changed at all”, you laugh and he examines the photo. He looks at it then at you as he smiles.

“Neither have you, still adorable”, he states and his mom squeals, making you laugh.

“Okay I think that's enough for today”, Zayne says in reaction to his mom.

“No I want to keep looking”, you say and continue to flip through the album with his mom.

After what seems like another hour of flipping through photos you decide to call it a night. You didn’t notice but Zayne had already left the room. You wish his parents a goodnight and make your way up to your shared guest room.

You open the door to see Zayne who looks like he is asleep on the bed. You quietly grab a change of pajamas and go to the bathroom to get ready for bed. You remove your makeup, brush your teeth and change clothes before making your way back into the bedroom. You climb into bed next to Zayne. He has one arm under his pillow and the other laying next to him by his face. You can’t help but admire his handsome features.

You don’t even notice what you are doing before your hand touches his face. You brush a few of his bangs out of his face to admire him more. After that you decide to lightly trace his jaw and nose. You lightly graze his cheek and go to touch his lips. But, before you could, his hand grabbed your wrist. Seconds later his emerald green eyes open and look at you. Your body freezes and all you can do is meet his gaze.

“You are so handsy”, he states and you lightly scoff, making him grin.

“Sorry, I just thought you looked so peaceful. I didn’t mean to wake you up”, you say as he lets go of your hand.

“Don’t apologize, I was awake”, he states and you look at him with disbelief.

“So you were faking being asleep?”, you ask him and he shakes his head.

“No, I simply just had my eyes closed”, he smirks and you lightly swat at his chest. He laughs and interlocks your hands together.

“I’m sorry if anything today made you uncomfortable, I wasn’t planning on sharing those things with you. At least not anytime soon”, he admits fidgeting with your hand.

“I wasn’t uncomfortable. I found it enduring that you had a little crush on me. Back then it would have been nice to know that you didn’t hate me. You were always so cold and stern.”, you giggle and he frowns. He swallows and looks back up to meet your gaze.

“I’ve never been good at expressing my emotions. I used to write them down on paper but I am trying to work on expressing them, especially to the people I care for the most”, he says looking back and forth between your eyes. You feel the familiar heat rise in your cheeks again. You knew Zayne cares for you but hearing him say it gives you reassurance that you need from him.

“I know Zayne and I appreciate you being honest with me. I admit I like it when you express your feelings, it makes me happy to know if you're happy”, you smile and he pauses for a moment before pulling you a bit closer to him. The sudden movement surprises and excites you.

“Can I hold you for a while?”, he asks, his face softening and his cheeks rosy.

“Mhmm”, you reply, adjusting yourself in his arms. You lay your head on his chest, you can feel his stiffened body start to relax. He starts to stroke your hair down your back, helping you relax into his touch. You close your eyes letting yourself get sleepy. Zayne looks down at you and smiles, seeing that you have fallen asleep in his arms.

“You don’t know how much you mean to me”, he says just above a whisper and closes his eyes too, joining you in wonderland.

THE NEXT DAY

“Zayne I don’t know if I can do this”, you say nervously as you have your feet locked into the snowboard beneath you. You look down the intimidating ski slope and begin to internally panic. Zayne sees the anxiety written all over your face and tries to calm you down.

“Don’t worry I am right here. I won’t let you fall”, he says holding both of your hands as you begin to gently slide down the hill inch by inch.

“I feel more comfortable if we went over there”, you say pointing past him. He turns around and looks to see the kid training area with a tiny baby hill where all the kids are sliding down. He can’t help but chuckle and you swat at his arm.

“Don’t make fun of me, I’m really scared”, you sah and he rubs the area on his arm you hit.

“Okay we can go over there if you would prefer it”, he says and you nod vigorously, wanting to get off this huge slope immediately. He smiles and picks you up carrying your bridal style to carry you over to the kid section.

Zayne sets you down and you scan the small hill. Multiple sets of parents are helping their kids learn how to ski or snowboard. You immediately feel more comfortable knowing that if you fall it won’t lead to your impending death. Zayne quickly adjusts your helmet and makes sure you are still secure on the snowboard.

“Okay, ready?”, he asks and you nod. He then makes sure to get on his snowboard and secures himself. He holds your hands in his and he helps you start to move. Moving very slowly down the hill and your eyes are glued to the ground making sure you aren’t going to fall.

“Hey, look at me. Relax and just focus on me”, Zayne says in a gentle tone. You nod and focus on his face as you feel yourself slowly glide down the hill. At some point you become less worried and actually start to enjoy it.

“This is actually kind of fun”, you say and zayne smiles.

“Yeah? You are doing great”, he says and you can feel both of you gliding down the hill a bit faster but it feels like you are flying. You feel so free and happy in this moment with him.

“We are almost at the bottom. When I say we are going to bring our boards to the front of us so we can stop okay?”, he says and you nod, listening to his every direction.

“Okay. 3..2..1”, he says and you both move your boards to the front. However, you knock your board against his and Zayne goes tumbling which in suit makes you tumble. He falls back first onto the snow and you fall on top of him. You both groan feeling the impact of the snow on your bodies.

“Y/N are you alright? You’re not hurt right?”. Zayne asks, taking his goggles off to examine you. He takes your goggles off and can’t help but laugh. He smiles and joins you in your fit of laughter. After the laughter fades you both just take a moment to look at each other. You can’t help but lean down and place your lips on his. He is taken by surprise but he gently moves his lips against yours, closing his eyes.

“Eeewwwe get a room”, the statement of a disgusted little boy breaks the mood and your kiss. The boy skis away and you look at Zayne and start laughing again. You roll off of Zayne and he gets up, extending his hand to help you up.

“I think that's enough snowboarding for me, I don’t think it's my thing”, you laugh as he hands you your goggles.

“That’s okay, you are great at a lot of other things.”, he bends down to help you out of your snowboard and then he releases himself from his.

“Or really? Like what kind of things?”, you ask, taking your snowboard in one hand and holding Zayne’s hand in the other. You both begin to walk up the slope toward the exit as he replies.

“Like hunting wanderers, making funny jokes, eating food, kissing..”, he says, trailing off and looking away. You blush at his statement and pick up some snow and throw it at him.

“What was that for?”, he says in surprise, smiling while also scoffing at your sudden attack.

“You can’t just say those things”, you say trying to hide your face from him.

“I’m just being truthful”, he says as you both continue to walk toward the exit.

Once you both reach the exit you change and make your way back to the cabin. When you reach the cabin Zayne makes you some tea and grabs a warm blanket for you to bundle up in. Zayne’s parents were out for the day on their little date so you had some alone time with him. You both watched movies by the fireplace and had soup for lunch to warm your bellies after a cold day.

“I am going to use the restroom I’ll be right back”, you say and he nods pausing the movie you were both watching. He grabs his phone to check in on his parents as you make your way up the stairs to the guest restroom.

You stop in your tracks when you feel something crunch beneath you right foot. You see a piece of crumpled up paper underneath the dresser, you pick it up and you are about to throw it away but recognize the handwriting as Zayne’s. You go against your better judgement and sit on the bed and open the paper.

It reads:

I’m at a loss for words each time we meet. She enchants me with everything she does. The feeling is overwhelming and at times overbearing. Her presence fills me with warmth, making my cold demeanor waiver. It's different but comforting. Is this feeling of love or something close to it? My heart beats rapidly at every thought of her. I cannot bear to be apart from her, not even for a second. The time we spend apart is the time I spend longing for her, waiting to see her once again. She is of a Jasmine flower, sweet in fragrance and an essence of beauty. Leaving me wanting to catch every petal that may fall. This must be the definition of love, if not then what is? Even though I cannot express it, in my heart it feels true. I want her to experience this feeling I have, even if not with me. I want her to be happy and to love unconditionally.

After you read the letter you feel the tears start falling from your eyes to your cheeks. The paper dated back 10 years ago, when you and Zayne were both in high school together. Right before he left for college, not seeing him again until last year.

“Y/N?”, Zaynes voice makes you turn your gaze from the paper to him. He looks at your now puffy eyes to the paper in front of you.

“You weren’t supposed to see that”, he says, stepping closer to you. You pull the paper closer to you so he can’t grab it.

“Is this about me?”, you say looking up at his worried expression, tears still streaming down your face.

“I didn’t realize that was here. It wasn’t meant to upset you. I shouldn’t have written it, I will get rid-”, he says, going to grab the paper but you move it away from him again.

“Did you really love me back then? Are these words written about me?”, you say and he can only nod slowly, his eyes starting to glisten. You stand up meeting his gaze.

“Why didn’t you tell me back then?”, you ask softly, grabbing his hand. He lowers his gaze to your thumb gently rubbing his hand and he meets your eyes again.

“I- just couldn’t, it would have been selfish of me”, he says, a single tear slipping from his eyes. You place your hand on his cheek, wiping the tear away with your thumb.

“Zayne, loving someone is not selfish. I wish I would have known back then”, you say and watch as another tear slips down his face.

“Nothing has changed, those words still remain in my heart. I love you just as much now as I did back then, but even more. I wanted to wait to tell you once we deepened our relationship but I-“, he pauses and places his hand on yours that's holding his cheek.

“Zayne”, you say softly. You have never seen him open up like this, never seen him at his most vulnerable.

“I don’t expect you to say it back. I want you to be happy whether that's with me or someone else”, he says, tears starting to fall rapidly now. He tries to hide his face to wipe his tears away but you place your other hand on the other side of his face.

“Zayne, I don’t want to be with anyone else. You make me happy, you are the one I love”, you state and his expression in his eyes turns from worry to relief. You wipe the tears from his face as he moves a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I love you so much”, he states and lowers his head to meet his lips with yours. The kiss was soft, slow and full of unconditional love for each other. He smiles and places his hand behind your neck, deepening the kiss. It's not rushed or even lustful, it's full of years of unspoken love and affection.

You both pull away and you peck his lips one more time, making him smile.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner”, he says, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I think I was meant to find that letter, I am glad I know now”, you smile, gently playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Where did you find that anyway?”, he asks, looking at the paper.

“Knock knock, sorry I forgot I left something in here by accident”, Zayne’s mom announces, startling you and Zayne both.

“Mom? How long have you been standing there?”, Zayne asks and she ignores his question.

“Ah here it is, it must have slipped out of the photo album”, she says picking up the letter, winking at you then leaving the room. You can’t help but giggle at her sly tactics. She leaves the room and Zayne is left dumbfounded.

“Your mom really was rooting for us huh?”, you laugh and Zayne turns around and watches you as you giggle.

Zayne walks past you and falls face first into the bed, hiding himself from embarrassment. You sit next to him on the bed and stroke his back.

“There there”, you say between giggles as Zayne screams into a pillow.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

a/n: I apologize to my Zayne girlies, I have failed you. This one ssuuuuccckkkeeeddd. I was debating on scrapping it because I don’t like it. It belongs in the garbage honestly. Even though it’s trash I hope my Zayne girlies got something out of it. I shall do Caleb next me thinks but I am not good at writing fluff so we will see what I do.

[maroonpascal]

It was enchanting to meet you

Pairing: Harry Castillo x reader

Summary: you’ve never imagined that meeting Harry Castillo could change your life forever

Word count: 773

Notes: this is literally just for the vibes and nothing else, wrote it on my way back home from uni just for fun. Based on the moodboard I posted yesterday (og post)

Date nights with him were always a dream and always more than you could ever expect; you were used to easy nights, nothing too special but with him everything was different. You didn’t even imagine how life would have changed when that night he sat next you at that event, offering you a drink, his charm immediately captivating you, an aura that it is hard to find. His brown eyes were the thing that made you forget everything else in an instant, and then the way he talked and his voice, words falling from his lips softly, like the most expensive velvet. And how could you ever say no to all of that, to a man that was taking all your breath away, your heart beating so fast at the way he was looking at you.

That night you kept looking at him as you sipped on your drink, and with every second passing you would notice a new detail, the cute patches in his beard that would resemble to little hearts, his perfume now becoming also yours, given how close you two were, and that green emerald on his right hand; soon you understood that not only he was handsome as hell, but he could also make you laugh and he was smart, having a way of speaking that would make you hang from his lips, and the night took a completely different turn. Would you have ever imagined to end up in his expensive apartment? Surely not, but the universe has its ways, and that is how you ended up there, after a night of talking and smiling with him, hands in your hair as he pushed you against the wall, kissing you like nobody had ever done, a passion igniting you and making you feel more alive than ever. His touch was firm but gentle at the same time, handling you like you were most precious thing in that apartment, more expensive than his own emerald ring.

When you woke up the following morning you had those pristine bedsheets around you, and you turned to him just to see him blissfully sleeping by your side, an arm around your waist, exactly how he had fallen asleep last night. This could be a one nightstand only, you thought, soon I’m gonna leave and everything will go back to normal, I will go back to my normal life and this will remain just a feral dream.

Little did you know.

You had no idea that once you had left that apartment he would have called you, checking on you and simply wanting to hear your voice, and life really wasn’t the same anymore.

What you had thought was one single event, bloomed into something more, as you were attracted by him like a magnet, an invisible force dragging you to him, soon enough having to give a name to whatever was happening between you two.

Soon you also understood that it was a very different relationship from the ones you’ve had in the past, as he would always surprise you in the most incredible ways. Sometimes it would be a huge bouquet of red roses, so many roses that you couldn’t even count them, sometimes he would rent an immense villa only for you two, to spend a little getaway weekend; you could never guess what he had in store for you, because every date could be even wilder than the previous one.

One night he had taken you to the airport, car full of luggage, and only when you arrived there you discovered he was taking you to Paris with his private jet for a romantic week.

So he would surely cover you in gifts, romantic trips, take you to the most expensive restaurants and you were sure you could also ask him to bring you the moon too and he would find a way to do that, but what truly made you fall in love with him wasn’t that. It was the way he would care for you, the way he would hold you at night, and the passion that he had for you, but especially the talking you would do with him at late night, when both of you were tired and you would look at each other with sleepy eyes, stolen soft kisses in the kitchen with dim lights over you, the taste of red wine over your lips and his warm kisses on your neck, hands intertwined. And the truth is, that you could have forgotten all the expensive stuff, scrapped all of that, because what you only needed was him and his infinite love for you.