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#posting a fic every day… imagine if I could still do that now
myname-isnia · 9 months
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I was so bored that I went and scrolled back through my blog and DMs and old art, and I got up to summer 2021 at which point I had to stop because I got too damn emotional
#tbh I went through the whole spectrum of emotions while I was at it#some nostalgia. some cringe#sometimes smiling or laughing at an old convo#but often I was hit with this intense melancholy#especially when I read smth like ‘I want to write this once day!!’ or ‘I hope to get some writing done!!’#or even worse ‘I’ve improved so much in my writing and I hope to improve more!!!’#like. fuck. kick me between the ribs next time it’ll hurt less#and then stuff like.. saying I’m confident in being able to finish whumptober 2021#I pushed that out of my memory actually bc of how guilty I felt#70% of what I wrote doesn’t even qualify as whump idk what I was on about#posting a fic every day… imagine if I could still do that now#and just in general. every mention of a fic I was writing that I never finished. or an idea o was experimenting with that went nowhere#*I#they’re all like punches to the gut#you can just tell. from what I wrote. from my tone#I was excited. I had that spark in me#it’s gone now. hasn’t been there in ages#and the thing is.. those posts and messages sometimes aren’t older than a year#up until very recently I was completely fine#what happened to me#I want my old self back#I could do so much now if I still had that passion#I’m running out of free time. I should use it as much as I can#yet I don’t. I wish I still had that love for creating#how could I have changed so much in less than two years#when I tried to figure it out I thought that writing competition sowed the seeds of it#but no. I was still excited and passionate even a year after that thing#it was something else. I don’t know what. whatever it was I wish it never happened#I wish I took full advantage of my spark back when I still had it#look at me now. I can’t even write a single fic. I’ve become nothing short of useless. why did it have to happen
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I wanted to write in about my thoughts on Jo as a CSA survivor separately for a couple of reasons:
I already more or less have what I have to say on the topic in order thanks to talks with @starssystem and another friend [<3]
This is a massive tonal shift from anything else I could be discussing
This Is Massive In General For The Love Of God PLEASE Help Me
Obvious CSA CW for anyone else reading; I only discuss statistics, psychology, and the aftereffects seen in survivors here, but it's worth a warning.
With the disclaimers out of the way… I'd mentioned before I've only ever added one thing to Jo's background, and you were right: this is it! To me, there's so much thematic overlap in Jo's narrative with the experience of surviving CSA it's worth it to examine his character through the lens of that being the case. Of course, there are clearly-stated reasons for it all that Aren't That, but…
It's the pervasive guilt and shame, the lifelong secret that becomes too unbearable not to tell, the faulty coping mechanisms aimed at burying the trauma without having to face it, the reluctance to be sincere [vulnerable] and the lies and half-truths used to maintain the facade of invulnerability, the pursuit of power and control and the knee-jerk anger response when it's threatened, the pursuit of mastery over his body and the indifference to what happens to it. And the way a lot of it really does stem from a deeply traumatic childhood sexual experience from before either he or Ikumi understood what they were getting into, from before they could give informed consent.
Statistically, the further below the average age someone is for their first time, the likelihood of [at best] having been introduced to sex inappropriately and [at worst] having been abused at the time or earlier rises exponentially. Jo was 15 when Masato was conceived--possibly 14, since he was saying he "met" Arakawa at 15, and by then Masato was already born. To put this into perspective, since what ages register as concerning is largely cultural, the average age in the US and UK is 16-18. But in Japan, it's over 19.
To a Westerner [or even a heavily Westernized non-Westerner], having a kid at 15 is unfortunate, but not untenable; you've seen it on TV, you might know people like that, you might even be that kid or that parent. But in Jo's case, with him being 4 or 5 years younger than average, it's like if someone told you they had their first time--had a /kid/--at 13 or under. That's the equivalent discrepancy. That /is/ concerning, to me.
It's also something that's linked to negative outcomes in adulthood, partly because of the likelihood of forming bonds with poorly-adjusted peers. Jo specifically states he and Ikumi were only together because others who came from backgrounds like his own were all he had back then. [As an aside, it's interesting to see him instinctively seek out a relationship where his pain would be understood without having to say anything--or one where he could assume it would, at any rate.]
When it comes to his relationship with Ikumi, I've always felt there was this "adult dynamic" between them--in the sense it feels like one that'd be more fitting for adults to get into than a couple of teens. It was, based on his wording, a primarily physical relationship neither of them expected to last even if they were living together. To me, it's one thing if you're fully convinced you're in love or you're experimenting or whatever and that results in an unplanned pregnancy, but it's another thing entirely to have such a bleak yet objective outlook on your relationship so young.
And it didn't have to be that way. He could've been just like Arakawa, head-over-heels in love with this girl who was The Only Good Thing He Had Going, or something like that. But the sheer contrast between how Arakawa was crazy about Akane and never forgot about her for the rest of his life, while Jo more-or-less-clearly didn't have feelings for Ikumi and can't bring himself to remember her name after living with her for at least a year and experiencing life-changing events with her…
It's notable to me that Arakawa maintains an interest in women while nearly every in-character interpretation I've seen makes Jo averse to women. Obviously, we don't really know that; it's probably just based on his general attitudes, his contrast with Arakawa, and maybe his immunity to Charm. But I think there's a reason a lot of people pick up on it and tie it to trauma rather than/in addition to a lack of interest in women.
I've talked about this through the lens of comphet already [and Jo being gay or ace or both would present other difficulties], but I can't overstate how notable it is on its own. We see Jo's response to traumatic events, and it's to become preoccupied with them, to investigate further if he has any leads. That's why he remembers every minute detail of the night Masato was born and the time he saw Arakawa attempt to comfort Masato when he was crying and hitting himself. I think it's also why he gets as far as he does when looking into Arakawa's death, and why he entrusts the search to Ichi. He never seems to manage to block them out, even if that's what he'd rather do--even if that's what he thinks he's doing.
So if he "[doesn't] even remember" the name of the mother of his child, I get the feeling there's something more going on. Like I've [probably] said in the past, Jo genuinely sounds traumatized by the relationship as a whole. More than anything else he's been through, and he's been through a lot. It's often the case that CSA survivors who are also survivors of other trauma view it as worse than anything else that happened to them.
And that's not to implicate Ikumi at all, I don't think it's a case of COCSA--everything I've said holds just as true for her, and she had to suffer the additional trauma of an unwanted pregnancy and childbirth, at that. Rather, I think it would make sense for something like CSA, which often incontrovertibly reconfigures one's relationship with sex and love, to be a factor in why they rushed into a something physical before they were mature enough to handle it.
Some victims end up having perfectly healthy experiences, some victims end up avoiding them, some victims end up re-victimized, and some victims end up with a mixed bag--there's a lot of variation. But some victims do end up having relationships like this and making mistakes like this, because that's all they know, or because they want to heal but don't [or don't know how to] go about it in a healthy way, at a healthy pace. And I definitely think if you recognize that's what the basis of your relationship was, that it all comes back to something you'd rather forget, it'd make sense to want to forget the relationship as a whole.
To that end, it's possible to come away from a relationship traumatized even if no one did anything wrong. I've [probably] talked about how the way Jo comforts her at the station feels like he's doing it for her sake and pushing his own feelings down, but neither of them is really buying it. If that's a pattern in their relationship, perhaps he wouldn't have been able to communicate if maybe what they were doing was dredging up bad memories, if he wanted to stop but didn't think she did. So to go through with it, then get the news months later…
Either way, the fact Ikumi couldn't bring herself to tell him she was pregnant until nothing could be done would, for Jo, invariably cement the feeling he has no control over what happens around him. I think the sense of powerlessness he felt is why he blew up at her when she told him, because it's really the only time we see him lash out like that at her. At the park, he objects to going back for Masato, sure, but he's passive. And I think that unbroken pattern of powerlessness in his life [which CSA would only compound on] is why he's so reactionary, why he's so emotionally dysregulated, why he expresses his rage through what basically amounts to power-tripping.
But I do think Jo does have a great deal of awareness. A lot of his wording when he's telling Ichi about it borders on poetic, or at the very least candid and effective. That requires both prior reflection and a command of language. I think there's a lot he understands deep down, at least after sitting with it for long enough, but he isn't capable of voicing--or doesn't know how to voice--what's on his mind, most of the time.
So when he joins the Arakawa Family, when he rises the ranks and has that control back, his control has to be near-absolute. If it's undermined in any way--such as, for example, a certain someone failing to answer a call within two rings--he loses it. On the other side of the coin, I do feel a lot of why his devotion and gratitude towards Arakawa goes to the extent it does, why he's so comfortable with him, is because Arakawa gave him the safety of the Arakawa Family, gave him back his autonomy, gave him the environment--and treated him with enough humanity to give him the reason--to learn to regulate himself, to better himself.
And Arakawa /gets/ trauma. He really does. Aside from his own abusive background, literally the only time the word trauma comes out of any character's mouth in this series, it's Arakawa's. It comes back to Jo saying others who came from backgrounds like his own were all he had; that never changed, did it?
Lastly, For Funsies [<- LIE. COMPLETE LIE. TURN BACK NOW] I wanted to go through the items on this [CSA] Survivors' Aftereffects Checklist I could check off with near-certainty. 19/34, by the way, give or take. Now, as I said at the beginning, there are existing concrete reasons for why he has many of these experiences… but it's like the trans allegory with Masato, To Me… If I can check off over half the list based on a very limited backstory and an hour of screen time total, that's indicative of a notable overlap… TO ME…
Note that the book this list is from was published in 1990 and focuses on women's experiences. It was a huge step forward in giving survivors a voice back when a lot of existing research indicated CSA had neutral or even positive effects on children, but it's definitely a product of its time. With that out of the way…
Wearing a lot of clothing, even in summer […]
To be fair, most male characters in RGG are fully-covered and have near-unchanging designs, and it's winter in both 2000/2001 and presumably 2019, but… when it comes to Jo, it feels a little different.
He does have Some Heavage in his twenties [although the necklace takes the attention off of his actual chest], but as time goes on, he shows less and less skin and adds more and more layers. When he has the gloves on, it leaves no skin exposed at all, and there's this direct symbolic correlation with secrecy that isn't there for other characters. And if you're wearing three layers of leather [or even one], you can neither feel what you're touching nor feel anything touch you.
Pure Speculation, but I just can't really see him underdressed for any occasion… That's why his fit in Day with the Sun is funny as hell but also… yeah…
As a behavior, if it's rooted in anything, it's probably rooted in having to hide signs of physical abuse, of course--but then he kind of already had an excuse, with how he was constantly getting into fights. I guess it depends on the specifics, but I think it's interesting to consider this as one way CSA victims attempt to regain control of their bodies, avoiding emotional discomfort at the cost of physical discomfort.
Self-destructiveness
It's nothing super overt, but I see this most clearly represented in his second boss fight in particular; his willingness to wield a blade bare-handed while using enough force he could very well render his hand useless. I think it's potentially also evident in how he has severe cataracts he chooses to ignore and allow to worsen, despite having the reasons and resources to undergo surgery to restore his vision. In doing so, he literally and figuratively blinds himself to so much.
I also kind of think the assassination of Hoshino/the anonymous call and The Eye Scene are examples of self-sabotage. I mean, he literally was sabotaging himself in the former, but it's also the specific way he feels the need to be physically taken down in order to be stopped--possibly a holdover from RGGJo, who's only too happy to be beaten into a coma.
I don't know… It's hard to pinpoint, but I feel like he would be averse to most of the more "obvious" self-destructive behaviors--especially when he has people in his life who might notice and worry, like Ikumi and Arakawa. That and because many of them are addictive. He's seen what that's done to his father, and he's also developed this incredibly rigid sense of discipline he can't maintain if he doesn't have a clear head.
From how he talks about himself [as having lost his humanity and lived a half-assed life], I definitely think he's at the very least unkind to himself, but I also think he does externalize it by provoking others to harm him [in the case of physical fights] and reject him. Like he needs some kind of proxy perpetrator. For some abuse victims, this specific manifestation of self-destructive behavior is a way to regain control--whether or not you "deserved it" back then, you do now, as a direct, logical result of your actions.
Need to be invisible, perfect, or perfectly bad
I think each of these needs manifests in different ways for Jo. The need to be invisible can be seen with authority figures (mainly Aoki, but also Arakawa in The Yubitsume Scene, a little; how drastically he pulls back and tries to act "normal")--this relates to what you were talking about with being reluctant to intrude or take up space. If you fall under the radar, maybe you won't get hurt.
The need to be perfect can be seen in his seemingly "impossible" standards, I would say. Of course, because we see things from Ichiban's perspective, we tend to see them as unfair and often arbitrary demands. But they aren't arbitrary to Jo, are they? They're standards he holds himself to through and through. If you're good, maybe you won't get hurt.
The need to be perfectly bad can be seen in and relates to much of what I discussed under self-destructiveness [The Eye Scene and the way he antagonizes Ichiban specifically by making himself out to be worse than he is]. If you must get hurt, it can at least "make sense"--be "deserved."
Suicidal thoughts, attempts, obsession (including "passive suicide")
Obviously he's not like… Mine Levels Of Overtly And Consistently Suicidal, and he doesn't attempt suicide himself, but at the same time, I have to note his total ambivalence towards Aoki seeing him as a "bullet" (a kind of hitman sent on suicide missions). He agreed to what he himself viewed as a suicide mission and he didn't care what would happen to him afterward, as he says to Joon-gi, Zhao, and Adachi.
Aside from that, I certainly feel he's at least had passive thoughts like wanting to disappear or wishing he'd never been born. Y'know. Nothing concrete, but reflective of his mental state, and just as detrimental to dwell on long-term.
I think there's a sort of childishness [for lack of a better word] to thoughts like these [in that they're impossible], but also a level of maturity in that it probably doesn't escalate to something more actionable because he understands he has responsibilities he can't abandon. I think if he was ever seriously suicidal, it would be at the points of his life where he really didn't have any responsibility to anyone, like between Ikumi leaving and him joining the family, or after he was arrested.
Depression (sometimes paralyzing) […]
I'm trying not to over explain going forward because I Have BEEN Overexplaining It Is SUCH A Disaster… he's depressed If You Have Eyes And/Or Ears… I'll leave it at that…
Anger issues; inability to recognize, own, or express anger; constant anger […]
Lol
Rigid control of one's thought process; humorlessness or extreme solemnity
Relates back to what I was saying about how disciplined he is [and expects everyone else to be], but in general, he's incredibly, incredibly serious and focused. I don't think he's /entirely/ humorless [but then again, very few people are]; I just think his specific sense of humor is. Like. What Is Your Problem [I Know What Your Problem Is I Have Been Discussing It In EXCRUCIATING Detail But What The Fuck Is Your Problem]
Trust issues; inability to trust (trust is not safe); total trust; trusting indiscriminately
That's why he was planning on taking his secret to the grave, isn't it? It was only when faced with the realization it would soon be too late to say anything that he was able to tell Ichiban. He could've trusted Arakawa, should've been able to, but… in his mind he never could.
This book [and this checklist] is about "incest" actually, but it redefines "incest" to mean any instance of CSA perpetrated by any individual the victim trusts or has an expectation of being able to implicitly trust. Which… is most CSA as we understand it today, so I've edited some parts to just say that.
Anyway, I've never given much thought to the specifics of what Jo might've experienced--who did it, what happened, how long it went on, etc.--so there's no conclusion I can draw here [and elsewhere, I'm sure]… but even without that, to grow up unable to trust the one person who should be in his corner, his father, and to have his trust betrayed by Ikumi, it's no surprise Jo ended up like this either way. So… I'm happy he had the courage to tell Ichi, in the end.
High risk taking ("daring the fates"); inability to take risks
I think these are supposed to be mutually exclusive, but to me, Hoshino's assassination and Arakawa's assassination represent both sides of the coin, although they're not the only examples. There are risks Jo won't think twice about taking and risks that paralyze him.
Boundary issues; control, power, territoriality issues; fear of losing control; obsessive/compulsive behaviors (attempts to control things that don't matter, just to control something)
Lol…
Guilt, shame; low self-esteem, feeling worthless; high appreciation of small favors by others
Lmao Even…
Feeling demand to "produce and be loved"; instinctively knowing and doing what the other person needs or wants; relationships mean big tradeoffs (love was taken, not given)
I actually think this encapsulates a lot of what I've been saying about his work ethic, his ideas of discipline, and his relationship with Ikumi, but I also think it's why Masato took a liking to him. His attentiveness. It ties back into wanting to be perfect; when you're abused--especially long-term--you become attuned to observing and responding to any shifts in mood or tone. This is another area where I can't draw any conclusions relevant to my point, but it does certainly relate to his father's abuse, at any rate.
Abandonment issues
Kind of contentious… The anticipation of being abandoned by or losing someone he cares about appears to be worse than the actual experience. He's fine with Ikumi leaving him, and he's… not Fine With, but able to come to terms with Arakawa's death and Aoki's abandonment of him. At the same time, he really does try to make Ikumi's stay in his life comfortable, and he spends almost forty years doing his damnedest to keep his family together, whatever the cost. If I were to extrapolate from RGGJo, though, /he/ does have an obsessive, unhealthy attachment to Arakawa.
Blocking out some period of early years (especially 1–12); or a specific person or place
Ikumiiiiii that's what I'm SAYINGGGG
Feeling of carrying an awful secret; urge to tell, fear of its being revealed; certainty no one will listen; being generally secretive […]
Rofl Perhaps…
Denial; […] repression of memories; pretending; minimizing ("it wasn't that bad") […]
He admits to it himself. Not much else to say. Though I don't think he necessarily minimizes what he's been through by dismissing how bad it was; rather, he tends to overestimate his ability to move past it.
Pattern of ambivalent or intensely conflictive relationships (intimacy is a problem; also focus shifted from [CSA] issues)
Also kind of contentious… we don't see a pattern of romantic relationships, as I assume the author meant here, but at the same time, the romantic relationship and non-romantic relationships we do see fit this pattern. I guess I'd say I definitely think intimacy /would/ be a problem, and he /wouldn't/ be ready to address his issues.
Limited tolerance for happiness; active withdrawal from happiness, reluctance to trust happiness ("ice=thin")
The quote that prompted this ask in the first place. It's sort of connected to the point about humorlessness and extreme solemnity; if that was the "what," this is the "why." He doesn't know how to relax ["holidays don't exist" and all], he doesn't have much to be happy about, but even rarer is the occasion where he doesn't feel too conflicted in the moment to be able to enjoy himself. That's just how I see him.
[…] verbal hypervigilance (careful monitoring of one's words); quiet-voiced, especially when needing to be heard
EXACTLY what I was talking about in this ask, so I'm leaving that one up to past me…
......
... That's It That's The Essay I'm going to hibernate until Infinite Wealth comes out and somehow refutes my points but UNTIL THEN. Farewell, take care, and once more, don't worry too much about matching my energy… Like I Said if I were the one receiving this ask I'd just delete my blog, so… I'll just be happy to know you read it :] If That lmao
ok i read it :) 👁️👁️ READMYTAGSTHERESMORETHEREIPROMISE
#long post#cw csa#doublin up to add cw warnins in the tags just in case <3 lemme know if i should throw more tags down here..... im bad at cw tags....#i forget my bookmark tag for asks from you i stg if i cant find this ask in the future im kmsing (in minecraft) immediately#snap chats#THE SNORT I MADE AT THE DEADPAN 'LOL'☠️ maybe i SHOULDVE put text In The Main Text i have A Lot of Thoughts..#im leavin the main text empty since. ngl i was just gonna compare/contrast to myself again... and say a lot of what weve said b4..#UNFORTUNATELY a lot of the things listed here uhmmmm Hm <3 Uh Oh <3 i do understand. Dare I Say personally. just a bit#I DO HAVE TO DISCLAIM ive never been a survivor of THOSE circumstances or really. any abuse tbh- brain just sucks and im a baby#and i cant say no BUT ANYWAY I HAVE REASONS FOR BEIN AN EGOTIST I SWEAR its cause I Somewhat had those exps/i understand them#i can REAAAALLLYY easily see where your points are coming from.... very easily even... like very in-depth..#even if i didnt cry bout spilled milk every other day it IS clear to see the signs of abuse in sawashiro once you know them#i've def talked bout those aspects of him whether in tag rambles or in streams or have Attempted to express it via fics#so really the bits to chew on for me esp this time round is the more CSA aspects#tbh when it comes to bein unable to see him intimate or 'underdressed' i agree: incredibly hard for me to imagine#the thing with 'symptoms' of abuse is that they kinda overlap i guess ??#in that regard it can either be a need to impress or protect himself/needing to be seen less#when it comes to doing certain things because of CSA i could see it as a result of another abuse too. if that makes sense#THOUGH THAT ISNT TO DISCREDIT THE IDEA nono cause there still exists the Now That I Think About It circumstances of masato#even if we look at it through Western Norms(TM) two- essentially homeless- kids having. A Kid is still bizarre#cause again teen pregnancies generally happen as a result of Bein Irresponsible With A Schoolmate- not that other situations cant exist#but thats the most common innit so. def an aspect to consider. All Things Considered. esp jo's self-separation from ikumi#BUT YEAH i feel like if i try to respond im just gonna end up typing up a textbook bout abuse since. UNFORTUNATELY#childhood psychology is my field of interest. and aint no one readin THAT phat thing. esp when ill prob repeat myself or you ☠️#tbh remindin meself of when i said id write psyche papers on mine and/or jo.... oops 👀💋👀 savin this to steal notes from LOL#i hope yo know i WAS thoroughly intrigued reading this. As Ive Said childhood psyche is Literally My Field and this is v thorough and good#so im always interested in readin bout How X Caused Y in Z... very interesting many MANY things to think about.. ty...#forever cursed to be an idiot cause i really wish i could talk better and say somethin of substance.. ik you said its fine but still..#im always open to chat bout this more if youd like PLEASE dont think my lack of Main Text is disinterest Im Just Stupid. But We Know That
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reiderwriter · 1 year
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Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (GN + AFAB)
Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.
Genre: smut (18+, minors DNI)
Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification, basically Spencer is a tease and the reader really gets off on using his official title.
Word Count: 3.8k
Authors Note: Hello! This is my first posted fic, so any feedback is welcome and absolutely appreciated (I tried to keep it GN!AFAB but if you notice any gendered pronouns pls lmk immediately!) I finally decided to start writing again after a few years, so I might be a bit rusty but I recently started rewatching Criminal Minds and I am so in love with Spencer! This little fic was inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge, so big thank you to them for the inspiration! This could also develop into a multi part fic in the future, so if that’s something you’d be interested in, please let me know in the tags and comments! XOXO K
Part two!
After three years in the BAU, you should know that summers in Quantico, Virginia are nothing to play about. Sure, it could be cloudy sometimes, and summer rain did allow for some relief, but with a heatwave on the way and a week of office work ahead of you, it seemed every member of your team was excited for the office AC. 
That was, of course, until the maintenance department sent out an office-wide email telling you it was “undergoing work” for the foreseeable future. 
You received the email during your commute, and immediately turned around to change. There was no way you were surviving in your slacks and long-sleeve shirt, and, truth be told, you knew that your bosses wouldn’t mind if you were a little more relaxed in your workplace attire if you weren’t going to be spending time in the field. 
It took all of thirty seconds to shoot a message to Garcia, telling her that you’d be a few minutes late for your daily carpool, letting her know the situation so she didn’t hack into your car GPS (which she still claims she absolutely did not do the last time you accidentally slept in, but would in an emergency just to know you were safe). 
She quickly sent you a reply: “put on that floral number we picked up last week! Between you and Morgan, I'm hoping my eyes will be feasting today 😉.” 
You let out a little chuckle as you read the message, and quickly complied. A sundress didn’t sound too bad right now at all. 
The dress in question was perhaps pushing it slightly for office work. It was short, and you knew immediately when putting it on that you would spend the day pulling it down to a more appropriate length. But the shade of blue fit your skintone perfectly, and the floaty material was exactly what you needed to beat the heat. 
Grabbing your keys again before you could second guess yourself, you didn’t let your mind linger quickly on the thought that perhaps the dress was a little attention grabbing. And perhaps there was someone in the office whose attention you wanted to grab. 
-X-
The commute into the office wasn’t bad, but stepping out of your nicely temperature regulated car into a wall of heat made you thank yourself for your foresight. And it seemed that the rest of your team was dealing similarly. Walking into the office, you noticed that Prentiss had divested herself of her shirt, sitting comfortably with an iced coffee and red tank top, an electric fan inches from her face. Morgan was similarly outfitted in lighter clothes than usual, and you could audibly hear Penelope’s brain working to come up with the best heat related compliment for her work husband. You couldn’t see Hotch or Rossi, but you knew they kept their own back-up units in their offices, so they wouldn’t be struggling at all today. You assumed JJ, too, was in her office.
“Well, look at you Cutie. You’re gonna break some hearts today, I know.” You roll your eyes as you throw your bag down. You were used to Morgan’s playful teasing by now, but compliments and affirmations were always welcome. You grimaced looking down at your desk chair and realised you had another problem. Your very recent purchase of a black leather office chair was going to absolutely make your day a living hell. Before you resigned yourself to a day of sitting in the orthopedic seventh layer of hell, your heard the angelic call of your office BFF.
“It feels like the devil’s armpit in here, god, do not expect an miracles from me today, I’m collecting my laptop and immediately moving away from all the heavy heat-producing machinery in my cave. Anyone got any space at their desk for me to work at?” 
“Yes!” You replied a little too quickly. 
“Feel free to make yourself at home, Pen, I have to look over some files with Reid later anyways so I’ll just pull up a spare chair to his desk, it’s all yours.” You thanked your lucky stars that everyone was too hot to tease you about your imminent proximity to the office’s Boy Wonder. 
It turns out hiding a small, tiny, stupid crush from a team of FBI profilers wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but you were confident in thinking the only one who had clocked on so far was Penelope. And that was only because of your weekly girls nights and an unfortunate habit of spilling secrets while intoxicated. Sure, the others still teased sometimes, but that was only because the two of you were the easiest targets. And they just didn’t know how on the nose they were sometimes. 
She gave you a quick look, of the ‘we will be discussing this later’ variety but didn’t say anything else and quickly excused herself to collect her things. 
You quickly pulled up a (non-leather) chair next to Reid’s and straightened out your dress as you started searching for the file you were looking for. Although you absolutely had an ulterior motive to intruding on his space, you actually did have work to do. But the heat, and the knowledge that you’d be working closely with Reid again any minute now did nothing to help you stay focused. 
Of course, having worked on the same team now for three years meant that you’d been alone together before. In all honestly, he was your partner of choice for any field task and you complimented each other well. The two of you worked together on Geographical Profiles for the majority of your cases, using your people skills, and his practical knowledge to gain insight into the locations unsubs lived, worked, murdered and hid their victims. And of course, you were friends outside the office, too. But you felt there was a distance between the two of you that made itself known the minute you stepped off the Jet or out of the bullpen. 
As you searched the desk, you let your mind wander to what he would look like in this heat. You knew he didn’t deal with the heat well, and could often be found with his shirt sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone on the cases in the warmer climates. You thought about him panting in the heat, pushing his hair out of his face, glistening with sweat and grumbling quietly about the heat. You specifically thought back to a case from a few weeks back, where the two of you had an awkward run-in with an automatic sprinkler when you made your way to interview a witness. His purple shirt had ended up soaked, and on day six of the investigation, his go bag was thankfully short of replacement clothing. So he’d sat in the precinct, shirt semi-transluscent, completely oblivious to your brazen oggling and sudden lack of anything intellectual to say. Or anything to say in general. 
It was only as you felt yourself getting warmer (a particularly impressive feat on today of all day’s) that you had to pull yourself out of the fantasy. But of course, as you stood up to get yourself a cool drink, you realised you were face to face with the man of your fantasies. 
“Y/N? Did you need something?” He looked down at you, with a soft smile on his face. 
“Oh! No, it was Garcia, she, um, she needed somewhere to work because her office is practically a sauna with all those computers. And I was thinking, we still need to work on that report on the geographical profile from the last case, so I offered her…my…” You trailed off, noticing you were rambling and allowed yourself a second to look at the man in front of you properly for the first time that day. 
It was going to be a miracle if you got any work done ever again.  
Like you, he’d opted for a change in uniform. He’d rid himself of his usual waistcoat-cardigan combo and was left in a button down shirt. It was, as you’d hoped and prayed, open slightly more than usual at the top. You frowned unconsciously as you realised he had also pushed his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, unhappy that you wouldn’t get to watch him do it in-person, his veins popping out as he exerted himself in the smallest way. 
A few seconds of silence passed, and you had to make yourself tear your eyes away from a droplet of sweat that was neatly making its way down his throat, tracing a line that you could only hope to one day follow with your lips.  When you snapped your eyes up to his, he nervously did the same, gripping  his bag a little tighter to him. 
“Oh, yeah that sounds good, um, let me just put my bag down and we can, uh, get started I guess.” 
“Yeah of course. I was just gonna grab a drink first, do you want one?” 
“Sure, yeah, a coffee would be good.”
“Okay, I’m no expert but that cannot be healthy in this heat. I know you’re practically a caffeine addict at this point, but I’m getting you a glass of water and you’re going to thank me, okay Doctor?”
He rolled his eyes and settled comfortably into his seat, but made no complaints as you walked away. 
-X-
“This is ridiculous, how can they expect us to work like this?” Agent Prentiss grumbled from her desk. 
“Oh, come on now, Prentiss, you can’t be complaining about a little heat, now.” 
You rolled your eyes at your coworkers playful back-and-forth, doing your best to not melt into your borrowed seat. You’d been working side-by-side with Reid for the last three hours and the heat was now unbearable. You were stuck to the seat in an uncomfortable way, especially with the extra exposed skin from your dress. It had ridden up your legs more than you expected it would, so you were constantly shifting in your seat attempting to keep yourself decent. 
The heat rolling off your teammate didn’t help. You had assumed that his love of cardigans, scarves and layers in general meant that he usually ran on the cooler side, but he was practically burning up next to you, making any and all accidental touch near intolerable. 
Each accidental brush of his fingers as you passed files between the two of you, each knock of your knees together under the desk as you moved to read over one-anothers shoulders, and every time you got up for another drink, it’s like he’s read your mind because he stood up at the same time and you had to awkwardly untangle yourself from the mess of desk chairs and office furniture. With every touch, you feel yourself getting hotter and hotter, the heat pooling between your legs embarrassingly.
It’s only when, later in the day, he brushes the seam of your skirt with his fingers when reaching over you with his other hand for a file you know for a fact he does not need, you realise that all of those accidental touches may have been absolutely intentional. 
Lowering your voice to a whisper, you bring your lips closer to his ears.”Spence, what was that?” You try to keep your voice steady, but his fingers are stil lingering closer to your sensitive areas than you found comfortable.
He drops his eyes to yours, looking you in the eye for the first time since you started working together in a comfortable silence. 
“What was what?” He asks innocently, his cheeks flushes as he starts drawing small circles on your thigh.
“You’re touching me. You’ve been touching me a lot today, Doctor.”
“Oh, I’m Doctor now, am I?” He smiles at you before quickly moving his attention back to the file he was reading. 
“Don’t change the subject.” You feel your whole body flush, as he ignores you and continues his reading, not removing his hand from your leg the entire time. 
“S-Spencer, I’m serious.”  He looks at you again then, and your heart jumps into your throat as you realise he’s removed his hand from the hem of your skirt, only to have it return under the material, moving closer and closer to where you really wanted him. 
“You know,” he whispers under his breath, so quiet you’re sure that no one could overhear, “you look really pretty in this dress.”
Your brain is short circuiting as you feel his hand on your inner thigh, failing to register the implication of his words as you do your best to stammer out a reply. 
“A-actually, Garcia chose it out for me. She said that you would-” you cut yourself off before you can say anymore. You’re surrounded by a room of your close friends and teammates and you’re doing your best not to beg your incredibly attractive coworker to push his fingers into you right then and there. Biting your lip so you don’t say anything else, you try to stand and shift away. 
But Reid is there, and with his other hand he maneouvers you even closer to him somehow.  
“She said I would what, beautiful?”
He’s so close now and you find yourself again staring at his exposed neck, wanting nothing more than to bury your head in him and kiss and lick and bite until he gives you what you want. The little circles he’s drawing on your legs are removing your inhibitions quicker than any alcohol could. 
But then he grips you a little tighter, and forces you to look up into his eyes again and respond. 
“She said that you would, uh, she said that you would’nt be able to take your eyes off of me. We were shopping together and she was just teasing and, well, yeah.”
“All dressed up for me, then? You thought you’d test the theory and see if she was right?” 
And suddenly he’s ghosting his fingers across your panties and you’re doing your best to not make any other noises as he looks you deep in your eyes.
“Do you think she was right, Y/N?” He asks. But before your brain can catch up and choose whether or not to answert, he’s pulling away. He’s standing up and he’s walking over to Morgan, file in hand, asking questions about another previous case file, and you’re left sitting at his desk questioning if any of that actually just happened.
-X-
You spent the rest of the day in a daze. Luckily, your team was so busy complaining about the heat that you were sure none of them noticed the tension you carried through the rest of your day. With the AC still not working, Garcia had gained permission from Hotch to head back to her own apartment to finish up the day with more appropriate equipment, and had quickly evacuated your desk, allowing you to retreat back to your own space. 
Emily had finished her own paperwork early due to a well-timed bet with Morgan, and had taken herself off to JJ’s office, and Morgan was meeting with Hotch in his office to discuss a potential death row intervew. So with the end of the workday in sight, only you and Reid remained in the bullpen. 
After your little run in, you knew that you weren’t going to get any effective work done. Emily had once joked that Reid’s high IQ gets slashed to 60 every time he comes in contact with an attractive woman. At the time, you’d laughed, joked along. Nowthat it was your reality, it wasn’t as funny to you. 
He’d played with you, called you beautiful, had his hands on you in the most frustratingly dizzying way- and then just as soon walked away from you. It wasn’t as if you wanted him to take you right then and there, in front of the entire office. 
In fact, you’re quite sure that no matter how horny you were, you’d have stopped him before he went any further that publically. But you weren’t as sure you wouldn’t have dragged him off to a supply closet and forced him down on his knees and under your skirt. 
To be short, you were pissed. He had left you, hot and bothered, on a day where you literally could get no relief from the heat. 
You watched him work for a while after that. His desk faced away from yours, which meant you could covertly watch him whilst he worked and he would be none the wiser. After catching yourself staring a hole into the back of his head for the fifth time in an hour, you  grunted out a curse and started packing your things up for the day. Unfortunately, you were just loud enough to catch the man’s attention. 
“Leaving so soon, princess?”
“Yes. It’s hot and I’m tired and I just want to go home and take a cold shower and get into bed.” You started packing your things up again, but you quickly noticed that Spencer was doing the same. 
“Are you leaving as well?” You asked, your stomach doing a small flip in apprehension of his answer. 
“Yeah. I’m also hot, and tired and a cold shower sounds amazing right about now.” 
You flushed at even the slightest change of a double meaning. Did he want to shower with you? Was he really going to step over that line? 
He continued to pack up his things calmly, and you did the same. You walked towards the elevator, and it wasnt until he reached from behind you to press the call button that you realised he was so closely following you. 
“And besides, your bed sounds amazing right about now.” The hairs on your neck stood up as he whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning against your neck as you felt heat pool between your legs for the second time that day. You froze up like a deer in headlights, and as the elevator dinged open, you felt Spencer walk you in, press the button, and close the door before making his next move. 
“You didn’t answer me earlier, you know? When I asked about the dress? Do you think Garcia was right?” He had crowded you into one corner of the elevator, and your brain was still short-circuiting. Shit, maybe you were the one whose IQ was cut in half, because the man in front of you seemed more confident than you had ever seen him before. 
His placed his hands on the guard rail either side of you, as one of his legs found its way between yours and you let out a small whimper, then cursed yourself when you saw the smirk growing on his face. 
“Come on, Princess, use your words.” He teased again. 
“She wasn’t right.” You breathed out. “You looked at me a few times, but nothing too long and nothing…inappropriate, but-”
“But what?” He pushed his leg further into you, moving his hands to grip the fabric at our waist,  and suddenly you were counting your blessings that no other agent in the building had decided to use the elevator right now. 
“But you can’t keep your hands off of me.” His lips crashed into yours the second you finished your sentence, as you desperately grabbed at his hair, desperate to feel more and more of him against you despite the sticky heat. 
He pulled away reluctantly as the elevator came to a stop in the basement carpark, but you still desperately clung to him, pressing kisses into his jaw and down his neck as you breathed in the scent of his sweat on his skin. Your words had failed you, but your body was desperate to communicate exactly what you needed. 
He chuckled as he pulled you off of him, stroking your hair as he pulled you to your car. Opening the passenger side door for you and taking the keys from your bag, he placed a kiss to your temple, pulling away only enough to whisper into your ear. ”Which one of us can’t keep their hands off the other now?” 
You were hot and delirious and you were not going to interrupt him now. He climbed into the driver’s seat, something you knew he didn’t do often, and placed his hand on your leg again as he drove. 
“Spread your legs,” he ordered as soon as you were far enough away from the building. You complied immediately, not wanting to interrupt anything the man might do to you. “Good girl,” he mumbled as he immediately picked up where he left off earlier, rubbing your sensitive nub through your underwear. Your dress was pushed up now 
“You know, Garcia was right” he spoke again, his fingers snaking their way under the elastic of your underwear. You could only moan in surprise, desperately close to getting exactly what you wanted.  
“I have been staring at you this whole day. You came in this short dress, practically on display for anyone to see.” His fingers were now slowly circling your clit, going torturously slowly as you bucked up your hips for some much needed friction.  
“When you got me that glass of water, I followed you, you know. Watched you reach for the glass on the top shelf, saw your skirt riding up. We’re you so desperate for me to notice you that you put yourself on display for the entire office like a little whore?” You moaned in surprise as his words registered in your mind. 
You tried to reply, to deny and protest your innocence, but he chose that minute to thrust a finger into you, the awkward angle forced by your position in the car creating a beautiful friction. You started rocking your hips quicker against his hand, opening yourself up to him fully, and grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t pull away for a third time that day. 
“You can’t even deny it, Look at you using my hand to get yourself off. Are you gonna come for me? Gonna do it right here in your car?”  You moan out a yes as he adds another finger, stretching you out further as you whimper around him. 
“Fuck, yes Spence, I’m a whore, your little whore.” You feel that familiar coil in the bottom of your stomach tighten and soon your releasing yourself all over his hands.  Gasping for air, your head falls back on the passenger seat, and you release your grip on Spencer’s hands. 
“Good job, princess, you did so well for me. We’re almost home now, let’s get you in that shower.” You whimper a little, nodding as you allow your brain to settle once again, completely comfortable with letting Spencer take control and do whatever he needs to do with you for the rest of the night. 
-X-
8K notes · View notes
nicksbestie · 7 months
Note
Omg the Johnnie fic was just wow.. honestly loved every part (def my fave post so far) which is why I’m here begging for another haha
Could you write a Johnnie Guilbert x reader where the reader is Tara’s friend and is invited to a hangout with all of the friends and Johnnie meets her there for the first time and completely falls in love. Like imagine he greets her and then turns to Jake “I need a ring” “what for” “to propose”
And just FLUFF ugh I love awkward and sweet Johnnie.
this was so sweet ily tysm :( <3
this fic was a tiny bit rushed just because i'm struggling with motivation and trying not to let reqs rot in my inbox but i hope you love it anyways!
Party
warnings : mentions of alcohol
pairing : Johnnie Guilbert x fem reader
word count : 1158
enjoy!
<3
Your best friend was having a Valentine’s party, and you were nothing short of completely ecstatic.
Despite being single, Valentine’s Day was still one of your favorite holidays, because your friends always did something so fun. You had no idea who was going to be in attendance, but you knew that your best friend, Tara, was inviting people from her inner circle, which included some people with a lot of reach. You couldn’t deny that you had a little bit of nerves about it, just because of the fact that Tara was quite literally famous. There would probably be a ton of super important people there, and you didn’t know if you were completely ready for that. 
You had made some features in Tara’s videos every now and again, and you had a solid following, but it was nothing like hers, and you also knew that she was inviting her best friend and ex boyfriend, who had a solid following of over two million, so the nerves were definitely there. Tara had told you that you were definitely overreacting, but you really did not want to be that person who accidentally embarrassed themselves in front of people that were on such a pedestal. Not to say that they were perfect, not by any means, but you were sure that some sort of footage from this party would make it to social media, being that Tara always recorded funny moments, and you did not want to go viral for the wrong things. 
You had gone over to Tara’s house about two hours before the party to get ready with her, as you always had the most fun doing that. You two shared a ton of clothes, helped each other with doing makeup, setting things up, and just in general having a good time. It was always a fun time for the two of you, and you had done that many times before many parties, hosted at both of your houses. So that was where you were right now, in Tara’s bathroom, her helping you even out your eyeliner on both eyes, as that had often been something that you really struggled with, and Tara had a natural talent for it. Tara was going over the guest list, and though it was pretty small for one of Tara’s parties, it was still a large gathering for you. 
Tara was a much more social person than you, and she found a lot of fun in spending time with large groups of people, whereas you had more fun with smaller, more close-knit groups. Her parties always reflected that, but due to the fact that normally there were a lot of people you knew, and also a lot of alcohol, you normally loosened up pretty quickly and always had a great time. You learned at this point when Tara was listing off who all was coming that Jake’s other best friend, Johnnie, was coming, and you knew of him, but had never met him in person. Tara had a devious grin on her face when you brought that point up, explaining that he wasn’t really a party person either, and she mumbled something about you two being perfect for each other. 
You hit her on the shoulder, causing her to laugh, which made you laugh as well, because Tara’s good mood and laughter was contagious, and you couldn’t help yourself. You and Tara had similar styles, and began sifting through her closet deciding what to wear tonight. Obviously it was red and pink themed, but that didn’t mean that you weren’t going to sneak in a little bit of black. It went with everything, so you had a valid reason to get away with it. After picking out a cute outfit, you still had some time to kill, and you and Tara began setting out food, drinks, and removing any possible breakables from common areas of the house. She laughed and told you a ridiculous story about Jake accidentally breaking an expensive valuable when he got too drunk at one of her parties, and now she’s learned to make sure that they’re all put away. 
The next forty five minutes went by so quickly, and you two had an amazing time setting up, and just getting to spend time with each other. Not for the first time, your nerves had completely disappeared once Tara had gotten you to open up, and you were nothing but excited for the party that was due to be starting soon. As Tara began opening the door and introducing guests that you either didn’t know or barely knew, you mostly relaxed, eating a couple of snacks and hanging out in the kitchen with Tara and the rest of the people. Nothing really picked up for the first couple of minutes, until a specific car pulled up outside of the house, music blasting loud enough for you to hear it inside the house, making you wonder just how loud it was inside the vehicle. You motioned to Tara, gesturing outside, and she rolled her eyes but had a smile on her face. 
“That would be Jake, wouldn’t it? Something about him always having to make an appearance.” 
You agreed, moving to make conversation with a couple friends you recognized while Tara let Jake in, accompanied by Johnnie. You looked up and saw Tara hugging the both of them, and took in their appearance. Jake, you had seen quite a few times, but you had never seen Johnnie in person. And you couldn’t lie, he was much more attractive in person. Unfortunately, due to your luck, Johnnie looked up from hugging Tara, and happened to make direct eye contact with you. You immediately looked away, ignoring the heat rising to your cheeks, and hoped on everything that he hadn’t noticed. Unbeknownst to you, he had, but also unbeknownst to you, he was blushing just about the same, it just wasn’t as visible because of his makeup. 
He turned to Jake as soon as Tara turned away to greet someone else, and elbowed him in the ribs. Jake doubled over, swearing under his breath as he asked what he needed. 
“Dude, what the hell?” 
“I need a fucking ring or something.” 
He looked at Johnnie like he had just lost his absolute mind. 
“What? A ring? For what?” 
Looking at his best friend’s face, he realized he looked like a lovestruck puppy, a weird expression to see on Johnnie’s face, and slightly disturbing. 
“To propose. Jesus Christ, look at her. She’s gorgeous.” 
Jake followed his eyes to see who exactly he was looking at, also at the same moment that you looked back up to try to check out Johnnie again, and watched you blush for a second time, awkwardly looking away and pretending you hadn’t seen them. 
“Well, looks like last year was your last Valentine’s alone.”
You enjoyed that party so much more than you had ever expected to.
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lalal-99 · 5 months
Text
Kitty’s New Best Friend {l.f.}
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113 "Either I'm insane or you were just masturbating in our living room." 133 "You're being shy now? Really?" 141 "How many times have you jerked off to me?"
Felix x afab!reader | trope: friends to lovers, roommates | wordcount: 2.4k
Synopsis: When your roommate comes home unexpectedly, he finds you in a compromising position on the living room couch, moaning his name. Fortunetly, he's had a hunch about your feelings for a while, and he's willing to help you out.
Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18
Smut Tags: Smut | Explicit Sexual Content | Porn with some Plot | Fluff and Smut | Mutual Pining | Semi-Public Masturbation | Oral Sex (reader rec.) | Teasing
Note: I wrote three different version of this over the past two years. This one was the best one, by a mile. Hope you enjoy. Please leave comments, if you want to encourage more content.
Again, thanks @jl-micasea-fics for letting me use your prompts. I know it's been two years, but still, credit where its due :)
Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @svintsandghosts @poutypoutybin @hyunjinswifeee @sunlitwilderness
Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people.
Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!
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He didn’t use to appear in your dirty dreams.
Only months ago, you didn’t need to put a face on the main character of your fantasies—the imagination itself enough to get you going.
That had certainly changed.
It could have been Felix sauntering your shared apartment without a shirt one too many times. It could have been the shoulder to cry on he had lent you after your ex. Hell, it could have even been as trivial as a kind smile for no apparent reason.
Your brain simply shut off and your kitty assumed control. Universally deciding that your roommate was a fitting image to get turned on to.
Now, his face made an appearance in every single one of your daydreams.
When Felix emerged from his room in nothing but a pair of loose hanging sweatpants, your mind went right back to it. It was ridiculous. You didn’t even listen to where he went off to, your fingers already running over his creamy skin in your mind. You felt like a teenager, arousal taking over you the second Felix left the apartment.
None of your other roommates were home which was fortunate. Sure, you could have gone to your bedroom to be safe. But how could you, when the heat reached you right there in the living room. Like it had happened in the shower a few days ago after Felix had sneaked in to get his lotion. You had told him you didn’t mind when in reality, you did. Just not in the way he might have thought.
That day and in your following fantasy, he hadn’t left, but instead joined you under the hot water.
Humming Felix’s name at the sound of your fingers running through your folds, you internally scolded yourself for thinking this way about him. A boy who was so innocently oblivious, he probably had no idea you even jerked off in the first place. Someone so sweet, he brought you candy when you were on your period, brewed you tea after a long day, or gave you massages when... Well, whenever you wanted one.
You were completely immersed in the scenario you had set up in your head, knot in your stomach tightening. So much so your brain took a second too long to recognise the familiar sound of his keys.
Things went very fast from there.
The door opened and Felix walked in to the sight of you. Rushing your hand out of your shorts, your neckline was red from the heat, your hair messier than when he had left. Mere minutes earlier.
“Felix? What the hell are you doing here?” you questioned, shock written on your features. “I thought you went out.”
“I—“ He scanned the situation and before you could stop him, he figured it out. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I went to get some snacks for the movie.”
Oh yes! The memory of your short conversation suddenly came back to you.
Felix had come out of his room, shirtless, recognising the movie playing on the TV in front of you. He had asked you to pause it, so you could watch it together once he came back from the store. Getting you snacks and a bottle of your favourite white, like the perfect roomie he was.
“Were you…” A smirk appeared on Felix’s face as his view wandered down your body to your pants. “Either I’m insane, or you were just masturbating in our living room.” Noticing your eyes shifting and your cheeks reddening in the light of the TV, he yelped. “Oh my God, you were masturbating, weren’t you?”
You struggled finding another excuse that could explain your hands down your pants. Not that it mattered, anyway. Nothing you said, no explanation you could have given, would get your roommate to believe he hadn’t just walked in on you.
Felix placed the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and strode over to the couch, sliding on next to you. The shit-eating grin on his face only heightened your embarrassment. Not so innocent after all, now that he held something over your head.
“Stop being so smug. It’s not like you don’t do it.” You scratched an invisible itch on your neck.
“But I don’t do it out here where everyone can walk in. Do you have no shame?” Felix was teasing you now, the previously cutesy behaviour shifting. You couldn’t quite pinpoint his demeanour, but it almost seemed seductive. Like, he was definitely flirting, and not in his usual, sweet way. If his next words were anything to go by, it felt even more so. “Or did you want me to walk in on you?”
You almost choked on your saliva. “What? No! Of course not.”
The redness on your face darkened further.
Why would he ever suggest that you had masturbated out in the living room on purpose? Unless… Maybe, subconsciously, you had done just that. Perhaps you wanted to make use of the possibility, him walking in on you. So he could finally help you scratch the itch himself. Not his imaginary self, but the real one, in all his glory. Could your brain have betrayed you like that, without you noticing?
You didn’t quite know what to think.
“It’s fine. I won’t tell anyone about this.” Somehow, that relieved you. Not like you had expected Felix to go around, gloating about it. It still relaxed you to hear it from the man himself. “I only have one question, then we can stop talking about it. Forever.”
Your jaw dropped at his words. So he was blackmailing you now, too? Felix, out of all people. Nice Felix, who never hurt a fly. Cute Felix, whose love language were hugs and cuddles. Smug Felix, who somehow had the upper hand right now.
Your kitty purred at his intrigue, surprising even yourself.
“How many times have you jerked off to me?”
You must have had a mini heart attack at that very second. Unfortunately, you didn’t land in heaven. If anything, this was hell.
“What?”
“You heard me,” Felix replied, bottom lip wandering between his teeth. “And I heard you, moaning my name before. So, how often do you think about me?”
“I don’t— I didn’t— I mean— What?” You were sweating now, unable to form simple sentences. And that was before his hand landed on your naked thigh, squeezing. That’s when you lost the ability to breathe, stomach tensing.
“You’re being shy now? Really?” As his fingers drew figure eights onto your skin, they wandered further up your leg until he reached the hem of your shorts. He played with the band, keeping his irises on you, and your kitty hissed. His proximity was a dangerous game. “What if I told you, I’ve been thinking about it, too?”
What. The. Fuck?
He leaned in, lips close enough to feel his breath on you, and you got dizzy. You didn’t remember drinking any alcohol, but you damn well felt like it. As though you had gotten intoxicated, high, and now you were left to deal with the aftermath.
“Been thinking about you so much. Taking you in your room. In the shower. On this very couch. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His fingers entered your pants, playing with the hem of your underwear. Your breath hitched when his hand cupped you, smirk so close to your face you could hear it. Felix clicked his tongue when he felt your wetness. “I knew it. Not so shy now, are we?”
And you weren’t. Shy, that was. Overwhelmed, sure. Embarrassed, yes. But not shy. Not when you detected the tent in his own sweatpants. Felix wanted this, just like you. Felix was your roommate, best friend and now, potential lover. If anything, you felt most comfortable around him.
The feeling heightened when he gave you a gentle push, urging you to lay back. Felix’s face remained so close to yours, eyes glued to each other as he situated himself above you. His fingers started teasing as he leaned down, faintly pressing his lips to your pulse point. Your eyes stood wide open, searching the ceiling for possible answers to the one question you had.
How the fuck had this happened?
Felix kissed down your body, through the valley of your chest and over your tank top. Right down to your shorts. He must have been able to smell you, but you didn’t care. It was Felix, after all, the boy straight out of your dreams.
“Y/N,” his soft voice called you to catch your attention. When you met his gaze, the world stopped for a moment. The lust had momentarily vanished from his irises and what overtook was care and love. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
“Don’t.” Your answer couldn’t have come faster, and you meant it. Under no circumstances did you want him to stop. Ever.
With that, the primate inside him gained back control, ridding you of your pants and underwear. All the while, Felix’s stare remained on your face, smiling between kisses he planted on your naked stomach. As though he wanted to capture all your focus and wouldn’t let you divert your eyes for anything.
A last smile sent your way and he dove in.
Your mouth stood agape as you watched him, connect his mouth to your clit, lightly sucking. You spread your legs so he could slot between them, and slot, he did. Key fitting in a lock, he kept your knees apart with his body, the whole couch becoming your playground.
Felix nibbled on your clit like it was sweet candy, gazes locked as his tongue came into play. Prodding, exploring. He looked sinful, like a devilish angle as his blonde locks tickled your bare thighs. A fucking dream-come-true, in the most literal sense.
Licking down your folds, he tasted you, humming in delight. His own personal five course meal.
Early on, you had been taught to never eat with your hands. That it was rude and crude, and ill-mannered. When Felix did it, it was nothing if not delicious. To watch, to hear, his fingers spreading you and entering in soft, gentle strokes.
Soon enough, he was three fingers in, knuckles-deep, petting the sensitive spot so deep you never reached it yourself. And there he was, doing it with so much ease, over and over. Kitty’s new best friend.
For a moment, you lost control, throwing your head back with a loud moan. When Felix squeezed your thigh, gently but determined, you brought your head back.
“Eyes on me, Kitten.”
A whimper at the nickname made him smirk as he scissored you open. His tongue prodded against your opening in sync, delightful as your stomach tensed.
“Oh, fuck—” You brought your hand to his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. Guiding him, at least as much as he let you. “Please.”
Cocking his head, Felix teased you, playfully confused by your words.
“Please, I need you. Inside. Please.”
With one last calm suck on your nub, he snaked his way up your body. Fingers remained inside you for now, distracting you.
“But I already am. You have to be more specific, Kitten.”
You clenched at the words, and he visibly noticed.
“Your cock. I need you inside me. Please, Felix.” If those words hadn’t driven him crazy already, persuading him, your next ones sure did. “Kitten needs your cock.”
He groaned, fingers coming up to touch your lips. You opened them, licking over his moist rings and he lost himself in the sight. “Such crude words for such a cute Kitten.”
Smearing the last of your essence over your mouth, he began licking it off, taking his sweet time. And then finally, after he had already done much more intimate, he kissed you. Careful and collected turned to desperate and chaotic as tongues melted into one.
Kissing Felix was natural, like you had done it so many times before. And you would have continued doing it, if it hadn’t been for the more pressing issues.
When you bucked up into him, rubbing your naked crotch against his clothed one, he smirked into the kiss. “Eager Kitten.”
“Desperate,” you corrected, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him into you.
Felix drew away to rid himself of his shirt, kneeling on top of you. It must have been the hottest thing you had ever been lucky enough to witness. As he untied the knot in his sweats, your sight remained on his toned torso. Sculptured abs followed a set of muscular pecs and his prominent collar bones. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, wanted to lick it and bite it, too. That was if he let you.
But not right now. Not when all you wanted was for him to devour you like his favourite desert.
Like the absolute menace he was, Felix tugged the hem of his sweats down, revealing the absence of underwear. And to think he walked around the apartment like that, unsucked. It was a real shame.
He stroked himself a couple of times, the other hand running through his messy locks. An undeniable God in human form.
You might have even been drooling, but before you could check, he hovered over you again. “Like what you see?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, curling upwards to connect your lips again.
With your legs still around his hips, it was easy for Felix to position himself. Your walls were clenching already, craving penetration. Some relief. Anything. It didn’t actually matter, as long as it was Felix doing it.
“You know,” he mumbled between kisses, tugging at your lip. It was in that moment, as he was so close, that you noticed the desire in his eyes. But it wasn’t just desire, but so much more. Adoration. Longing. Attraction. Love. “If you had told me about your secret from the start, we could have done this months ago.”
How he had come to know about your infatuation? You had no head to figure it out right that moment.
“However, we do have a lot to make up for. Better get to it, right?”
When Felix slid into you, your eyes rolled back into your head as your breath got caught in your lungs. Finally, after months of distanced yearning, he scratched the same itch that had plagued you for so long.
And your kitty was satisfied at last.
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theharddeck · 4 months
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it'd be a sweet situation (bob floyd x fem!reader)
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pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader (no y/n)
synopsis: what's better than finding out the WSO you've had a secret crush is the same audio erotica creator that you've been crushing on for months? getting to watch him record new content...and maybe get involved yourself
word count: 5.9k
warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: audio porn, a truly absurd amount of dirty talk, overuse of pet names, oral sex (m and f!receiving), PiV penetration, some condescension and some dumbification.
A/N: not edited, not beta-ed, we publish for affirmation and speed babyyyy.
this post is a part 2 of my fic do you wanna make somethin' of it -- thanks for the love on the original!! hope y'all like! i may be planning a third so lmk if this scratches the itch or if we want breeding kink!bullriderrhett
When you asked Bob if you could listen to him record, he blinked at you, his expression somewhere between flattered and surprised, as a pink spread over his cheeks.
You loved when Bob blushed. 
It was the sweetest flush of pink, just so precious, and usually belied by something or another. 
Like when the rest of his expression was innocent, but his hand was stroking the inside of your thigh underneath a table at the Hard Deck. 
Like when you were begging him to let you come, praising every part of him that you could think of, and he looked up at you in wonder from between your legs. 
Like when he asked you to be “his girl”, make it official after a couple months, and you’d agreed before he could get the rest of his prepared speech out.  
Bob hadn’t posted in the last couple months (he explained that like you didn’t know), and his followers had been asking for something, anything, and you’d agreed that maybe something unscripted was the way to go. 
So now you leaned back against the wall Bob’s bed was pushed up against, watching him move around his small room with a focused expression on his face. He’d untangled cords, set up a microphone with a windscreen, and a smile played about your lips, watching him. You were just so fond of him. He was kind, he was sweet, he was hot and he was yours. 
You’d agreed to sit across the room, give him his space, but you had a sneaking suspicion this was going to really do it for you. You just hoped he wouldn’t be totally unaffected either.
He settled into his desk chair, cleared his throat, and started checking the microphone. He had a lamp set up over the desk, and it cast a golden glow over him. His brow was furrowed as he double checked his equipment, and you admired the way his tshirt fell over his shoulders, as he straightened things around his desk.
You could tell he was nervous. You could see it in the tightness of his expression, but you knew you’d both like this, so you smiled reassuringly over at him.
When he caught your eye, Bob smiled too, like he couldn’t help it.
“You ready?” he asked.
You nodded. “I’m excited.”
Bob huffed a laugh, shaking his head at you, at himself, the situation. 
He cleared his throat, before leaning back. From where he was sitting at the desk. He could just catch the edge of the door to his bathroom, which he swung shut. 
“Honey?” Bob called, his face still slightly turned from the mic, so it sounded far away. You imagined the door he’d slammed was a front door swinging shut, and instead of a long day of post-flight reviews, he’d been out on the ranch. 
“There y’are,” Bob said, closer to the mic now, but he was looking at you. You wrinkled your nose at him, and his lips quirked in an attempt to not smile. This was silly, it was fun, and you adored that he was bringing you into the fantasy with him. 
His head tipped to the side, golden hair falling in front of his glasses as he let out a long sigh. 
“God, you’re so beautiful.”
He said it so softly, like it was just an observation, fact, and you rolled your eyes at him. You were rewarded by his smile, beaming. 
“Nah, don’t give me that,” Bob shook his head at you, and you loved him like this, easy and light, “don’t roll your eyes like it isn’t true. Y’know the kinda day I had?”
You raised an eyebrow, and Bob was still smiling, and you felt like it was an inside joke between the two of you. Whatever he was going to say as Rhett, you knew it would be about Miramar. 
He started ad libbing, in that drawl of his that normally only came out when he was exhausted, and you let the fantasy wash over you. He might be talking about cattle and fence posts, but he meant FA-18s and potentiometers. 
“And then here you are,” Bob said, his voice getting softer. “No matter the day I had, no matter what else, I get to come home to you. Doesn’t seem fair, does it? How’d I get so lucky, hmm?”
You shook your head at him; you were the lucky one.
“The luckiest,” Bob said, after a pause, like how you remembered he’d always waited on his recordings. Being with him now, knowing him how you did, you wondered if this’d been how he’d imagined it—with you here, with him, answering him. 
“You missed me too?” Bob asked, almost curious. “Honey…don’t give me that look, come on. I know you’ve got supper on…”
The use of ‘supper’ was just darling, and it whisked you deeper into the fantasy. One where your world started and ended with Rhett, looking after him as he looked after you. Him keeping you safe, you keeping him taken care of. 
In that fantasy, there was always time. 
“Ah, you missed me like that,” Bob said, his voice dropping deeper. “That’s a pretty thought, isn’t it– my girl, in my house, just waitin’ for me to get home.”
His voice was almost dreamlike, and you shivered while he paused, waiting for the audience to say something.
“No, that’s not a fair question, honey; I always miss you,” he said, his head tilting back as he looked at you. “Miss how you look at me…how you say my name…how pretty your hair looks in this light…”
Bob laughed, a soft sound. 
“You must’ve really missed me,” he teased, “if my voice is doing it for you like that. Bet you’re already wet for me, just listenin’ to me talking about wanting you, hmm? You gonna show me?”
And you hadn’t planned to, you really hadn’t. 
But when Bob asked, acting like Rhett and talking like that, it made you want to. You pulled down your sweatpants before you could think about it, rewarded by the way Bob’s eyes widened like he hadn’t expected it either. He swallowed visibly, and he cleared his throat. 
“Shit, honey, I didn’t think you’d actually…do we have time? Before supper?”
You smiled at him, lifting a shoulder like sure, you could make time. Bob’s eyes twinkled as he grinned back at you, like even through the ridiculous pretense of recording an audio, he saw you, and was glad you saw him. 
“Alright, sweet girl, easy,” he said, his voice breathy, like you were rushing him. “Yeah, that’s it, feel me through my jeans.”
He palmed himself, a soft gasp slipping past his parted lips at the pressure of his grasp. You loved Bob’s hands, loved how they moved and worked over you, and seeing him grabbing himself was something else. He was a proportional man, but the bulge growing underneath his jeans didn’t seem any smaller, relative to such enormous hands.
“You can take me out,” Bob said, like it was a favor he was doing you, and you weren’t sure it wasn’t, as he slid the zipper down slowly. You’d seen him what felt like hundreds of times over the last few months, but you found yourself holding your breath as he shifted his hips to slide his jeans over his hips. He left them on just above his knees, and you could see the outline of his dick pressing against his boxers. 
God, he looked good. 
Slightly slouched in a chair, half undressed, his eyelids heavy as he looked through his lashes at you. He gave himself a lazy stroke over his boxers one more time, then pulled his cock out, sighing as his fingers wrapped around it. You pressed your lips together to trap in the pleased whimper that was threatening to escape; you couldn’t help it. 
Bob reached for the lube, squeezing a little on his hand away from the microphone before he spread it along his cock. He moved slowly, so no wet sounds could be heard, not yet, but you watched his shoulders drop slightly at the pleasure of the softened glide. 
“Does that feel good?” you asked it softly, quiet enough and from across the room, knowing you wouldn’t be heard, but at the sound of your voice, Bob’s eyes fluttered close. 
“Fuck, honey,” he whispered, into the mic, but straight to you, “yeah, you feel so good.”
You loved that he meant it, that even though it was his hand, it was you that was making him feel this way. 
You slipped a hand into your underwear, a whine slipping past your lips as you felt you were already wet. Bob’s eyes flew opened, his lips parting as he realized what you were doing. Even though he wasn’t touching you, you felt him, and it was always going to end here, wasn’t it? Bob’s sweet, sexy voice, you acting like it didn’t affect you, and then touching yourself with him. 
“Sweet girl,” Bob breathed, and you heard it in his voice, his pride in you. You loved being that for him, being here with him. “You look so fucking pretty like this. In our house, that pretty hand wrapped around my cock—”
He broke off as you shifted, peeling your underwear away and running your fingers through your folds so he could see. You loved the image he was describing—coming home to each other, finding relief in each other’s bodies. A cowboy or a pilot, either way, this man was yours, and he made you feel so good. 
“That’s it, honey,” Bob’s voice sounded gruff, and your eyes fell closed as you lost yourself in the fantasy. “Fuck, honey, your hands…you feel so good,  shit. Here, honey, let’s get you out of this, yeah? Lemme play with that pussy, while you’re takin’ such good care of my cock.”
He could already see you, so it was just for the fantasy, but your knees fell open as you spread yourself open for him. Bob groaned, and your fingers brushed over your clit. You’d done this before, this scene he was describing, even if it was slightly different, so it was easy to envision. Both of you braced against the nearest wall, unable to look away from his cock in your hands, and him reaching for you, wanting to bring you the same pleasure. The way your fingers looked so small around his cock, the way his hand fit between your thighs, both of your knees going weak. 
“So wet for me,” Bob praised, and your mouth dropped open as your fingers dipped between your folds, like his would. “You’re so perfect, so warm and ready for me…fuck, sweet girl, you make me want more than your hand.”
You moaned softly, your head falling back against the wall behind his bed. You wanted that too, more, and your hand wasn’t enough. 
“I’ll take you to bed later,” Bob promised. “Lay you down, take my time with this pretty pussy, fill her up…ah, honey, fuck, I can feel you clenching on my fingers…How’d I get so lucky, hmm? You’re so perfect, so good for me, so fucking good for me…”
Bob trailed off with a moan, and you heard his hand speed up as he continued to praise you. You coveted the sounds, and more than that, you finally understood what he’d meant the first time you’d been together, because you were jealous of a fantasy. Anyone who listened to this recording, they’d hear Rhett telling them they were perfect, so good for him, and they could think on that all they wanted but Bob, Bob was yours. 
Bob’s head fell back as his hand gripped his cock tightly. You saw his thighs tensing against the floor, and the column of his neck was exposed in the most inviting way so you took it as just that—an invitation. 
“Honey, fuck, what are you doing?” Rhett’s reaction and Bob’s were the same, as he realized you were kneeling on the ground, your hand closing around his cock. Your knees spread on the hard floor, your fingers wet from your own desire, and wrapped around him. Bob moaned, a disbelieving, overcome sound, as you guided him into your mouth. His eyebrows creased worriedly, and his eyes darted to the microphone, but as your lips closed around his tip, you held his eyes, and you moaned. 
Loud. 
Loud enough for him to feel it, loud enough that you knew the mic picked up on it, loud enough that he knew it wasn’t an accident.  
“Shit, baby,” Bob groaned, his voice low, “that mouth…” 
And you would’ve smirked, but your mouth was too full of him. God, you loved how he felt. Heavy and thick and you didn’t love the taste of lube, but you worked your hand over his length and contented yourself with playing with his sensitive head. He just had the prettiest cock. It was leaking now, for you, and you lapped at him, traced each ridge and divet, teased the veins and pumped his length with your hand. 
Bob was gasping, and when you looked back up at him, you couldn’t miss the adoration on his face. He looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were real, like he knew you were just as possessive as he was, and it made him even harder for you. That heat in his expression had your other hand sneaking between your legs, and Bob’s hand lifted to your hair, brushing it back. His big hand settled on top of your head, not controlling not forcing, but needing to touch you. Your thighs spread and you moaned again as your fingers brushed over your heat while he sat heavy on your tongue. 
“That’s right, sweet girl,” Bob rasped, his voice truly wrecked. “Keep playing with yourself. Ah, honey, I’m not gonna last long. Wanted you all day, and now those lips around my cock, fuck—”
He broke off as he hips pushed his cock farther into your mouth. As he did, you realized you couldn’t taste the lube on his cock anymore, only your arousal and the musky salt of him. God, you loved it. You tasted so good together, and you knew it was the farmwife fantasy, but you loved being this for him. Like you’d just been waiting for him to come home and get his hands in your hair, his cock in your mouth. 
“You couldn’t wait till after dinner, could you?” Bob grunted, a hint of condescension creeping into his voice that made your eyes fall close. “You make me feel so good, honey, shit. That mouth, sweet girl, it’s so good. You’re taking me so well, like you needed this just as bad as I did—did you? Did this get you through the day too? Knowing it’d end with you on your knees for your man, his fat cock in your mouth?”
His glasses were sliding down his nose, his chest was heaving, and even tough his words were tinged with condescension, they couldn’t disguise the worship underneath. Each stroke of your tongue, hollowing of your cheeks, pulled a hitched breath or a soft gasp from him, and you loved each one. Your hand lifted from between your legs to his thigh, your nails digging into the pale hair there as you took him deeper as Bob groaned. 
“Fucking hell, what you do to me, honey,” he groaned, his voice tight, and you really didn’t think you needed to breathe. You took him until your nose brushed the hair at his base, and Bob was panting like he’d just pulled 10 Gs, and he couldn’t tell which way was up. He moaned as you held there, his hand slipping from the top of your head to the back of your neck, cradling you. His thumb brushed the front of your throat, feeling where you were stretched around him, an he moaned again, a wrecked, gorgeous sound. You loved that he was past words, that everyone listening was just going to hear his gasps, those beautiful moans, and know you were here. Between his thighs, hands and marks on him, claiming him as yours. 
“I’m gonna come, baby,” he gasped, and you felt your chest swell with pride, humming lightly so he knew it was okay. You pulled back, bobbing your head, and his moans grew longer until his hand moved again, holding your head steady as his cock jolted. He came hard down your throat, his warm release spilling down your throat, a claim of his own. You swallowed him down, your mouth loosening around his sensitive cock, and licking at him as he pulled out. You licked lightly around his cock, placing a teasing kiss on his tip, and Bob groaned softly.
You couldn’t hide how smug you felt. 
That was your man, weak from the orgasm you gave him, sounding wrecked and satisfied from your mouth.  
“You’re lookin’ real proud of yourself there,” Bob said, his voice gruff again. You sat back on your heels, smiling up at him. He chuckled softly, pulling you up as he leaned down to kiss you. His tongue swept into your mouth greedily, chasing a taste of the release you’d pulled out of him, and you loved that he was just as filthy as you were. His hands fell from your head to the tops of your shoulders, and he caressed the soft skin of your upper arms lightly. 
“I’d better return the favor, hmm?” he murmured against your lips, and you opened your eyes to catch the spark of mischief in his eyes before his hands curled under your arms and he lifted you. He moved you quicker than you understood what was happening, and then you were in his seat, he was on his knees, and he wasted no time in diving between yours. 
Your back arched off the chair at the first sweep of his tongue over your cunt, and you clapped a hand over your mouth, but it was too late for that. 
“Absolutely fucking not,” Bob pulled back to say, his longer fingers winding around your wrist and pulling it away from your mouth. “You had me moanin’ like a virgin when you got your lips on my cock, and I deserve to hear the same from you. Let me hear those sweet sounds, honey.”
His voice was deep, dark and teasing, but he was watching you carefully, and you knew if you said you were uncomfortable, he’d stop. Just like you knew you wouldn’t ask him to, because you wanted your claim on him on the recording. Not just that you’d pulled that orgasm from him, but that he was worshiping you, that you were his as much as he was yours. 
You let your hand fall away, and Bob smiled sweetly at you before his mouth was back between your thighs. His tongue made you forget about the recording in no time, as his tongue worked over you. Bob always went at oral like it was end game, like it was a favor to him, like he never wanted to leave. He kissed and sucked, licked and teased, and soon you were panting with each stroke of his tongue. 
“Y’sound so good, angel,” he murmured into your cunt, his voice thick, and you moaned as he pressed teasing kisses over your lower stomach and thighs. “How’s it feel?”
“So good, baby,” you whispered, your fingers winding into his hair and pulling him back into your pussy. He went, chuckling, but eagerly resuming his efforts.  He spread you open with his thick fingers, his tongue delving into your cleft as he lapped at you, chasing the arousal that he’d stoked with just his words, and you felt like you were melting into the chair. 
“Let me have it then,” Bob said, pulling back. His glasses were fogged as he looked up at you, and you moaned at the sight. His strong fingers stroked over you, and his tongue darted out to lick his lips, like he was desperate for your taste. “Come for me, sweet girl, come on my fingers and my tongue, open this sweet cunt for me, let me feel it…”
His fingers kept teasing over your slit as his lips closed over your clit. His tongue circled your sensitive bud as his fingers stroked over you and you pulled his hair tightly, remembered not to call out his name at the last minute, and came with a cry. You were trembling, melting and soaring and shaking, your legs over Bob’s broad shoulders as he fucking drank your orgasm from between your legs. He didn’t let up, continuing his gentle caresses until your orgasm sputtered out, leaving you thrumming and sated. 
“So fucking pretty, sweet girl,” Bob was whispering, his touch gentling. “You did so good for me, didn’t you, so beautiful and sweet. God, you’re perfect.”
You opened your eyes to find him looking up at you, a soft smile on his face. You brushed his hair from off his forehead, glad his glasses had cleared enough for you to see his beautiful eyes. You were going to kiss him, a reversal of your earlier positions, when you recognized the rolling motion in his shoulders. You looked down and…shit, he was hard again. Your jaw dropped open as you looked up at Bob, in time to see a blush spreading across his cheeks. 
“Are you…” you asked, trailing off when your voice was raspier than you expected. “Can you go again?” 
“We don’t have to,” Bob mumbled, almost sheepish. “I, uh…I wasn’t kidding, I really did miss you today, and you sounded so good, and it’ll go away, we can—”
You kissed whatever asinine alternative he was going to offer off his lips. Your man was hard again because he’d worked himself up while eating you out? Fuck that, you were gonna have him now. 
You both moaned into the kiss, the taste of each other mingling and this time when Bob moved you, you let him guide you. He pulled you to stand, his hands holding you steady as he took his seat again, then pulled you to straddle him. You kissed him as you settled on his thighs, his hands still adjusting things around the desk, and letting you focus on him. God, he was something else. So beautiful and sweet and strong, and then hung to boot, and you felt the a spark reignite from your earlier orgasm. Your hands trailed over his tshirt, his broad neck and the soft curl of his hair at the back of his neck, and you leaned back when Bob leaned back to pull on a condom. 
“You just had that handy?” you teased him, though it lost some of its sting since you were so breathless, “You kept a condom in your pocket all day?”
Bob huffed a laugh, even as his ears heated again. 
“I don’t think you get it, honey,” he said, pausing as he rolled the condom down his length, “every moment I’m not in this warm cunt, I’m wishing I was, and planning for when I can be. If that means carrying a condom around all day, so as soon as it’s over, I can slide into this sweet pussy, then yeah, that’s what I’m gonna do.”
You smiled at him, knowing you looked infatuated and dopey, but basking in his shameless enthusiasm. It felt good to be with him, good to be adored by him, like the sweetest affirmation. Any teasing remark was quieted when Bob shifted, prompting you to rise over him. You both held your breath as he lined himself up with you, and you braced your hands on his shoulders as you started to sink down on him. 
God, you’d never get used to the stretch of him. 
Loosened by your orgasm and practice, your stomach still tensed at the pressure of his cock easing into you. Bob’s hands were stroking soothingly over the small of your back, and his forehead wrinkled as he frowned, stopping himself from rutting up into you. 
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Bob groaned. “You’re still so tight, you feel so good.”
You only managed to whimper as you continued to sink onto him. He felt so thick, broad, and you loved how full you felt with him. Like a puzzle piece, like a safe haven, like the only place you wanted to be. Your thighs were burning when you finally took him all the way, and you could’ve cried from how full you felt. You wound your arms around his neck and Bob mirrored your motion, his arms bracketing around your lower back. 
“Beautiful girl,” Bob soothed you, his words as much an embrace as his tight grasp. “Y’feel so good around me, shit. Tell me it’s this good for you, honey?”
“So full,” you managed, somehow breathless. “I feel you so deep, baby.”
“So deep,” Bob agreed, kissing you lightly. His lips brushed over yours in soft kisses until the tension faded, until you were squirming in anticipation, until you needed more than the deep press of him.  
“Need you to move,” you whispered against his lips, and you felt Bob’s warm breath as he laughed. 
“I don’t know, honey,” he teased, leaning back, languid. “I tried to get you out of this, but you’re the one who needed it…maybe you should ride me for it, if you want this cock so bad.”
Even as he goaded you, he lifted his hips into yours slowly. You whimpered at each slow push of his hips, punctuated by another taunt. 
“You couldn’t wait to get your hands on me…” he whispered on another stroke, impossibly deep he was inside of you, “then your mouth…then you had me on my knees for you, sweet girl, and that still wasn’t enough for you, was it?”
The drag of his cock was so slow it was intoxicating. You were so full, and he was pushing deeper, and you could barely focus on his words. It was so slow and you needed more, and you weren’t one to back down from a challenge, so you rolled your hips. 
It was Bob who groaned this time, at the swivel of your hips and the way you clenched around him. 
“I remember it differently, baby,” you told him, even though your voice was shaking. You worked your hips faster, the rhythm you wanted, Bob’s thick cock filling you just right, at a tempo you knew would get you there in no time…if you could sustain it. 
“Tell me,” Bob said, his hands falling to your hips, supporting your motion as you writhed over him. 
Your hand wound into his hair, and you smiled when his lashes fluttered as you pulled lightly. Your hips were smacking down into his as you worked yourself on his cock, fast and desperate, chasing. 
“I remember,” you panted, licking your lips and smiling as his eyes tracked the motion, “Remember you whining from my mouth…cumming down my throat after a minute or two…rutting against the air with your mouth between my thighs.”
“Jesus Christ,” Bob moaned, and you grinned at him, triumphant, as his hands tightened on your hips. He clenched you tightly, planted his feet and drove his own thighs up to meet you. The sound of your ass hitting his thighs was loud, but not as much as the wetness between you. It was audible, the proof of the desire you drove each other to, the desperation and need and the fact that neither of you was easily sated, except in the other. 
“Give it to me,” you whispered and Bob groaned, his head nuzzling into your neck. He licked at the skin there, teeth grazing over you, both of you gasping for breath as your bodies writhed against each other. He was so deep inside of you, bruising and conquering and he was everything. You craved the stretch of him, but more than that, it was just him. His heavy cock, his strong hands, his soft whine that was building. You could feel your thighs weakening, but not Bob. He drove up into you with a hunger, like he needed this pace, this release, just as much as you did. 
“You’re so fucking warm, sweet girl,” he gritted. “God, you feel so good. I’m losing my mind, honey, it’s so good. You’re clenching down on me, makes me not want to leave. Gonna stay in this cunt, spill here and stay here till I’m hard again, then do it again.”
You moaned, tightening around him. You wanted that, wanted him, only him. The circle of his arms, the press of his cock, the smell of his sweat and the brush of his lips.  
“Do it,” you begged, and that was what it was: begging. You needed it, needed him, and didn’t care how desperate you sounded about it. “Let me feel it, baby, please, come in me.”
“Fuck,” Bob moaned, properly moaned. “Ya had to say please, didn’t you, so sweet like that, how the hell do I say no to you—can you come with me, honey? Don’t want to get there without you…”
You whimpered at his words and the way he was thrusting up into you. You were so close, so fucking close and you were certain you’d shatter before you got there but then Bob pulled you slightly forward. Only slightly, and without changing the rhythm of his hips, he pulled you forward so your clit was brushing against him. You cried out, your arms scratching at his back at the added stimulation, at the way he was rewriting. 
“That’s right, honey, shit,” Bob whispered, each stroke of his hips a brush against your clit. Your legs were shaking, you were pretty sure you were crying, and the only thing you could comprehend was Bob’s voice and arms around you. “Scratch me up, hold me to you, I’m not going anywhere. I can feel you getting closer, honey, please tell me you’re close. God, you feel so good, I’m gonna cum so hard, I need it to be with you—please, honey, fuck—”
He clenched his arms around your body, holding you tightly to him, the way he did when he was about to cum and so caught up in it that he wasn’t worried about holding you too tightly. You moaned as he ground up into you, his cock thrusting into you and his strong arms banding you to him. You went limp as you came, moaning wordlessly, and you felt him relax as he recognized it, his back arching as he pumped into you roughly. He was practically rutting into you and you curled around him, craving it, the roughness and rightness of him. Bob shouted roughly as he emptied himself into the condom, a beautiful sound of abandon that made you nuzzle into him, even as your toes curled.   
The room was quiet, except for the sounds of both of you catching your breath. Bob’s hand was running lightly over your back as you nestled into his chest, and your hand was playing with the edge of his shirt in front of you. You bit your lip, trying not to laugh at the current state of undress, but of course, Bob felt you shaking. 
“What is it?” he asked gruffly.
“We’re just out here, pooh-bearing it,” you said, pulling on his shirt for emphasis. “We couldn’t even…I don’t know, it’s just silly. Half dressed but matching, without pants.”
Bob chuckled, his chest shaking as he pulled you tighter to him, before shifting to press a kiss to your forehead. 
“Of course,” he said dryly. “I’m trying to think of a clever way to say ‘that was the hardest I’ve cum in I don’t know how long’, and you’re here thinking about children’s cartoons.”
“I also thought that was very very good,” you said, consolingly, patting his chest. 
Bob caught your hand in one of his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles like a gallant night of old. He sighed, kissed them again, then twined his fingers with yours. “I like coming home to you.”
You blinked, then froze. “Oh my god, we’re still recording!!!”
Bob laughed, a sound so sweet and joyous that you couldn’t help but join him. He reached over and flipped off the microphone, even as you frantically tried to remember if you’d said his name. 
“We don’t have to use it,” Bob reassured you, pulling you back into his arms as he resettled. “Or I can edit it, or really, whatever you’re comfortable with. Regardless, not for recording’s sake, but just for posterity: that was fucking hot. Unreal. I’m the luckiest guy alive.”
You smiled, not sure if you were embarrassed you’d forgotten, or proud of the both of you. 
“You should’ve kept recording while you said that,” you mumbled, and Bob pulled back to look at you. He didn’t say anything for a moment, then a slow grin split his face. 
“You’re jealous,” he said, pleased and proud, and you rolled your eyes before he resettled you on his chest. “I wasn’t sure if that’s what you were thinking, I thought it might’ve been.”
You pursed your lips. “We should publish it.”
You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell he was smiling. 
“Let’s give it a listen first, honey,” he said, appeasingly. “Make sure you’re okay with it, then we can decide if you want it out there. For me, I think it’ll do numbers…but I only care about an audience of one.”
It was cliche.
So cliche it was cheesy, but you smiled to yourself at his sweet words. That was how you felt too…but it couldn’t hurt to remind the world that they might like the idea of Rhett, but you were the one with the real deal. 
You were pretty sure that, regardless of what Bob said, you were the lucky one. 
I Missed You Too It’s been a long day out on the ranch, and I can’t wait to get home to my girl. Turns out, she’s been waiting for me, too. [M4F] [Overheard] [Couple] [Oral] [Finish Inside] [Strong Language] [Moaning] [Love Confession] [SFX]
tattedlily: AN OVERHEARD FROM RHETT IS THIS REAL OH MY GOD SORRY TO MY COWORKERS I’M LISTENING AT MY DESK 
bucklebunny69: Don’t mind me, just losing my mind over the fact that rhett has a gf and they sound so hot together
luvbug1985: SHUT UP THIS SOUNDS SO REAL
sarahwasnthere: okay but do y’all want a third orrrrrrr
sweeeeeetgirl: overheards aren’t normally my thing, but for rhett i’ll try anything and i think i’m converted?? I couldn’t hear her at first but the way HE changed like you could hear when she got involved i’m gonna be sick holy shit 
babygrl902: when will someone fuck me like this 
justjennn: okay but like the chemistry between the two of them?? Like they’re so reactive to each other i hope you guys do more!!
luvbug1985: nope i had to comment again bc the bi panic this audio caused?? Hearing her gasp/moan in response to his dirty talk is tewwwwwww much i immediately need more
//
tagging: @sometimesanalice @laracrofted @hangmanssunnies @withahappyrefrain @cheekymcgrath @mxgyver @lewmagoo @sebsxphia @callsign-fangirl @callsignspark @daggerspare-standingby @rhettabbotts @teacupsandtopgun @attapullman @yuckosworld @skteaiy @yanna-banana @briseisgone @gigisimsonmars @milesmillergf @katiedid-3 @hangmandruigandmav @3tabbiesandalab @marchingicenotes7 @callsignmedusa @ryebecca @tgmavericklover @cottagecori @becks-things @mulletmcghee @straightforwardly @high-speed-r @rcmupout @purelyfiction @fairyheart @sunsetsimpsblog @angelbabyyy99 @cremebruleequeen @marvel-djarin @sgt-barnesveins @supernaturaldawning @echo-ethe @sunlitide @alilstressyandlotdepressy @hughesvolpe @aczhang777 @saltsicklover @whatislovevavy @phoenix-rising-starbird-one @briseisgone @mycobrakai1972 @hangmanshoney @sorchathered @lewmagoo @katfanfic @bringbacktim @b-bradshaw
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thef1diary · 4 months
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While It Lasts | L. Norris - 1
Summary: Lando expected nothing more than relaxation and fun for two weeks during his summer break. What he didn’t anticipate was meeting you, someone who felt like a perfect match in every way. As the days quickly passed, he found himself falling deeply for you, only to be confronted with the heart-wrenching reality that your time together was far more limited than he ever imagined.
Part 2
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PLEASE READ: This story contains themes of loss, morality, fear, death, relationship strains, mental health struggles, including significant emotional impact related to the reader’s journey with a chronic illness and some scenes are set in hospitals. Reminder that this is simply a work of fiction, please don’t take it to heart.
a hugeee thank you to @chilling-seavey @thefourthln @faithshouseofchaos for proofreading this and constantly reassuring me that this isn’t shit 😭 I wouldn’t have posted this fic without your support 🫶🏻
pairing: lando x fem!reader
wc: 15.9k (because tumblr won't let me post the whole thing at once)
© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.
“C’mon, you’re gonna love it there,” Lando attempted to persuade his best friend. 
Max Fewtrell rolled his eyes, asking incredulously, “mate, are you seriously considering taking us to a small town over partying all day, everyday in the city?”
Lando shrugged, holding his finger up for a moment, asking him to wait while he scrolled through his phone to find the photos that Carlos sent him earlier. “It’s not just a small town, look at this.” He turned the phone around to show his best friend the photos of their potential home for the next two weeks. 
Max scoffed, still not believing that Lando was changing their pre-made plans at the last minute, “and why would Carlos just give you the keys to that villa looking thing?” 
“It’s his uncle’s vacation home, and it’ll be empty if we don’t go. You don’t want to leave this beauty empty, do you?” 
Max sighed, rolling his eyes at his best friend’s antics. As soon as he saw the photos, he was convinced to discard the previous plans and take the opportunity to live in that home, but of course he wouldn’t admit it straightaway. 
“Show me the photos again,” he simply muttered, earning a laugh from Lando as he swiped through the pictures. 
“There’s literally only one other house nearby, we won’t get that in the city now, would we?” Lando commented, watching the cogs turning in Max’s mind. 
Despite Max's initial reluctance, Lando could see the spark of curiosity flickering in his friend's eyes as he examined the photos. He knew he was close to winning Max over.
"So, what do you say, Max? Are you in?" Lando pressed, a hopeful tone in his voice.
Max hesitated for a moment, weighing his options before finally letting out a resigned sigh. "Alright, fine, you win. Let's give this small town adventure a shot," he conceded, unable to resist the allure of the stunning villa.
Lando grinned triumphantly. "Trust me, mate, you won't regret it," he assured him, clapping him on the back.
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see about that. When are we leaving?” He asked instead, still not wanting to get his hopes up in case he would be left disappointed. 
“Tomorrow.” 
“Tomorrow?” Max asked, eyes widening when Lando nodded. 
“Go pack your bags, mate,” Lando shoved him with full force once he noticed Max wasn’t leaving the room.
He laughed when Max finally regained his sense of motion and scrambled out the room, muttering to himself while packing everything he thought he needed for the next two weeks. Despite having a habit of travelling, it wasn’t any less stressful to pack, especially with a short notice.  
Lando sighed and leaned back into his chair, holding up his phone in front of him. He admired the picturesque view of the villa in the photos, containing his excitement because he would be able to see the same view in person soon enough. 
Perhaps this was what he needed, especially after the stress that continued to build up over the first half of the season. While he had a better start to the season than he was used to, it didn’t ease any pressure. He was constantly thinking about what he can do as a driver to improve the car while having to face the media at every race weekend and answering the same question over and over again. It was too much for him to handle. 
It was part of the reason why he was adamant on convincing Max to take a break in a place where they wouldn’t be seen as much as they usually do in Monaco. It would give him a chance of exploring a new town while also staying under the radar. 
When Carlos first suggested the idea, Lando instantly agreed. The promise of two weeks of relaxation and exploration ahead sounded like a dream to him. Lando couldn't wait to leave the pressures of the racing world behind and immerse himself in the beauty of the coastal town. Little did he know, amidst the winding streets and sun-kissed beaches, he would find more than just a temporary escape.
— 
As the taxi pulled up to the gates, the driver turned to them with a grin. "Here we are, gentlemen. Enjoy your stay," he announced, gesturing towards the grand entrance of the villa. 
Max and Lando exchanged glances, eager to explore the town. They thanked the driver before stepping out of the taxi, and their eyes widened in awe at the sight of their temporary abode. The grand villa stood just up ahead of them, its white walls gleaming in the golden light of the setting sun. The only barrier slightly obstructing their view were the large steel gates, shut to prevent any trespassers. 
"Whoa!" Max exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement.
Lando nodded in agreement, already reaching for his phone to capture the moment. "This place is insane," he remarked, snapping a quick selfie, giving a cheesy smile while holding up his thumb with the villa in the background.
Max chuckled, watching as Lando posed for the photo. "Gonna send that to Carlos?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face.
Lando nodded, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Yep, just to make him jealous," he replied, tapping away at his phone before sending the selfie to Carlos with a playful message: ‘You’re missing out!’
“Where’s he anyways?” Max asked but his gaze never left the sight in front of him. 
Lando’s thumbs moved across the screen as he typed out another message, possibly replying to Carlos who always texted back within minutes. 
Moments later, he turned the phone to show the screen to Max. Carlos had responded to Lando’s selfie with one of his own, showing off the view he was enjoying in the background. A pair of blue goggles covered his eyes and he held his thumb up in a playful manner as well. It was evident that he was standing on a yacht, surrounded by a form of nature in its entirety. 
“Guess he’s not exactly missing out. When is he not on a boat?” Max asked jokingly. 
Lando shrugged, “when he’s not cycling I guess.” 
When he turned the screen back towards him, he noticed another text from Carlos. ‘Don’t break anything’
He scoffed, shaking his head before pocketing his phone, ignoring his message. He was mature enough to know that, even if a few broken trophies claimed otherwise. 
The taxi drove off, leaving the men standing with their luggages in front of the gate. The breeze passed through Lando’s curls, causing him to turn around and squint his eyes to look up at the leaves on the trees swaying around. The setting sun pierced his eyes, but his gaze didn’t waver from it, a smile growing on his face since he already began liking the peaceful environment. 
“Mate,” Max’s voice broke the silence. When Lando looked at him expectantly, he gestured towards the gates. “Are we just here to look at it from outside or do you know the code to get in?”
Lando’s eyes widened, “oh yeah, Carlos told me the code, hold on.” He fumbled for his phone, quickly locating the message from Carlos with the access code. 
Before he could punch in the code, the sound of a car door slamming loudly took their attention away from the villa. 
Max and Lando simultaneously spotted another home further down the street across from theirs, the only one apart from the villa for miles. It stood in stark contrast, a quaint cottage nestled amidst a grove of cherry blossom trees. It looked smaller, but they knew not to be fooled, knowing the cottage only appeared smaller since it was further away. 
"Looks like we've got neighbors," Lando remarked, pointing towards the distant cottage. 
“So much for silence,” Max mumbled. 
As soon as Max’s words were spoken out loud, their attention shifted to the cause of the sound; you. 
Unlike Lando and Max, your day hadn’t been going well. Actually, you don’t believe that you’ve experienced a single good day in the past couple years; not since the day you received your reports. 
You remember that day vividly, the memories playing out in your mind like a horror movie. Despite many efforts from your close friends and family to cheer you up, you don’t believe that any smile you’ve given was genuine. Not a single one. 
You shut your eyes tightly, but it only intensified the memories, causing you to find a way to shift your attention. Your gaze was attracted to the sun that was moments away from slipping underneath the horizon. 
Contrasting to Lando’s thoughts from earlier, who smiled at the sunset because watching it cemented the fact that he was away from the chaos in cities and his world of racing, you thought of the guarantee that the sun will rise again tomorrow, one certainty you never had about yourself. 
Once you slammed the car door shut, a surge of frustration and anger coursed through you, making your brother, Isaac, who was also getting out of the car, wince in discomfort. It was his car, after all, and you knew you shouldn't take your frustrations out on one of his most prized possessions, but the weight of your own mortality pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket.
Another visit to the hospital had left you feeling drained and defeated, the latest round of test results delivering yet another blow to your already fragile health. The doctors' words echoed in your mind, their somber tones a stark reminder of the grim reality you faced.
You were angry – angry at the world for dealing you such a terrible fate, angry at your own body for betraying you, angry at the uncertainty that loomed over your future like a dark cloud. Would you live another day, another year, or was each moment you spent on this earth merely borrowed time?
Your hands trembled with a mixture of fear and frustration as you struggled to make sense of it all. You’ve been in this situation multiple times over the past couple years, wondering why the doctors always gave you a false sense of hope until the facts proved otherwise, but every time still felt like the first. Your illness was something you could never wrap your head around. The questions swirled in your mind, unanswered and unanswerable, leaving you feeling helpless and alone.
As you leaned against the car, your breath coming in ragged gasps, you felt a sense of despair wash over you. The world seemed cruel and indifferent, its vastness stretching out before you like an endless void.
Despite looking at the sun until it made your eyes water, or perhaps those were just your tears caused by your anger turning into sadness, your mind was still filled with all sorts of thoughts while your heart held various emotions. 
The one thing that did divert your mind was the sound of rackety steel gates opening further down the street. Those gates hadn’t been open in about a year, making it in desperate need of oil on the hinges. 
You remembered the family that visited very often once upon a time—the Sainz family—but those visits became less and less frequent as the years went by. 
However, once you heard laughter echoing down the street, you couldn’t place a name to the sound. You squinted your eyes to focus on the scene since you had forgotten your glasses inside your home. Your eyesight was one of the first things that started deteriorating, making it hard to believe that you once had perfect vision.
You could make out the shape of two men, seemingly young and nowhere near a part of the family that owned the villa. 
With a heavy heart, you turned away from the villa, knowing it was time to spend a quiet night in. The sun had long gone beneath the horizon, turning the orange skies into hues of blue as you made your way towards your small cottage.
Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of stale coffee from the early morning hours before you rushed to the hospital. The unmistakable scent of antiseptics mixed with coffee, a reminder that your home was slowly becoming similar to the emergency rooms. 
Your brother hovered nearby, his expression etched with concern as he watched you sink into a worn armchair. He had moved in once your health didn’t show any signs of improvement, taking on the older brother role even if he was a few years younger. 
"Are you okay?" Isaac asked, his voice filled with worry.
You nodded, forcing a weak smile as you tried to push aside the weight of your own fears. "I'm fine," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
But deep down, you knew the truth. You were anything but fine. The uncertainty of your future loomed over you like a dark cloud, threatening to consume you whole.
“Do you need anything before I make dinner?” He stood in front of you, fidgeting with his hands. 
The mention of dinner made you look up at him, shifting in the armchair as you prepared to stand up. His hands instantly shot out in case you stumbled over your feet. 
“Let me help you make dinner,” you spoke, placing your hand on his shoulder to stabilize yourself. 
He began shaking his head but your eyes pleaded with him. 
“Please, I’m not completely useless yet,” You added, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to deny you since it was a trick you used when you were both younger. 
He sighed, wanting to tell you that you weren’t useless at all, but it would open another can of worms. “Don’t push yourself too hard,” he settled instead. 
You firmly nodded, and threaded your arm around his as he led you to the kitchen. He knew that he shouldn’t have let you help, especially after an appointment, but he also knew that if he left you alone, your thoughts would drown you. 
All you needed was company, and he was more than willing to do anything to help you especially since he felt helpless otherwise. 
The rhythmic chopping of vegetables filled the air as you and Isaac worked together in the kitchen. He hovered nearby, his presence a silent reassurance that you were not alone in your struggle.
"Need any help with that?" he asked, gesturing towards the cutting board where you were slicing tomatoes with unsteady hands.
You shook your head, trying to hide the tremor in your voice. "I've got it, thanks."
But he could see through your facade, his eyes filled with concern as he watched you work. "Are you sure? You seem a bit off today." 
He had made it his responsibility to take you to your appointments, and he noticed that your mood deflated even more than the last visit.
You forced a smile, hoping to alleviate his worries. "I'm fine, just tired from the hospital visit."
He didn't look convinced, but he didn't press further. Instead, he moved closer, offering a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Well, let me know if you need anything. I'm here for you, okay?"
You nodded, grateful for his support. "Thanks, I appreciate it."
As you continued to cook together, the tension in the air eased, replaced by the familiar rhythm of sibling banter and shared laughter. 
“Oh, did you see our new neighbours?” You asked once you sat down to eat. 
Your brother nodded, a muffled sound leaving his mouth since he was in the midst of chewing. 
Your face twisted in disgust, “ew, eat your food, don’t show it.” He playfully smacked your arm before swallowing and you had to hide the wince that almost overtook your expressions. You rubbed your arm once he was distracted, already knowing that it’ll bruise even if the smack was light. 
“As I was saying,” he glared at you for a brief moment before continuing, “I noticed them coming in.” 
“How long do you think they’re gonna stay?” 
He added, making you shrug, “no idea, a couple weeks?” 
Meanwhile, down the street, Max and Lando were immediately struck by the grandeur inside the villa. They had already explored the surroundings outside while the sun was setting, and were greeted by a scene of serene beauty and tranquility. 
The sprawling grounds stretched out before them, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. Lush greenery enveloped the landscape, with meticulously landscaped gardens and manicured lawns spreading out in all directions.
Tall palm trees swayed gently in the breeze, their fronds rustling softly as if whispering secrets to the wind. Vibrant bursts of color from exotic flowers and fragrant blossoms added splashes of brightness to the landscape, while the sweet scent of blooming jasmine and lavender hung in the air.
A cobblestone pathway wound its way through the gardens, meandering past secluded alcoves and hidden nooks waiting to be explored. Stone benches and wrought iron chairs provided inviting spots to sit and enjoy the beauty of nature, while the soothing sound of a trickling fountain added a sense of serenity to the atmosphere.
In the distance, the shimmering surface of a swimming pool caught the last rays of sunlight, beckoning with promises of cool refreshment on a warm summer's day. Beyond the pool, a charming gazebo nestled amidst a grove of trees offered a secluded retreat, its elegant structure inviting relaxation and contemplation.
Inside the villa, Max and Lando found themselves immersed in a world of luxury and refinement. Marble floors gleamed underfoot, their polished surfaces reflecting the soft glow of crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. The air was infused with the scent of subtle hints of vanilla and sandalwood, creating an atmosphere of opulence.
Plush furnishings adorned with rich fabrics and intricate patterns beckoned invitingly, promising comfort and relaxation. Oversized sofas and armchairs offered sumptuous seating, their cushions plump and inviting, while ornate coffee tables and sideboards showcased exquisite craftsmanship and timeless elegance.
Large windows framed breathtaking views of the surrounding countryside, their sheer curtains billowing gently in the breeze. Soft, ambient lighting cast warm pools of light in every corner, creating a sense of coziness and intimacy that enveloped the space.
Throughout the villa, works of art adorned the walls, adding a touch of sophistication and culture to the elegant surroundings. Paintings and sculptures, each one a masterpiece in its own right, spoke of a life of privilege and refinement, while delicate vases filled with fresh flowers added a touch of natural beauty to the lavish interiors.
In every room, from the grand foyer to the luxurious bedrooms and bathrooms, attention to detail was evident at every turn. From the intricate carvings on the furniture to the delicate lace trim on the curtains, no expense had been spared in creating a sanctuary of unparalleled beauty and comfort.
As Max and Lando explored the villa, they couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and awe at the sheer magnificence of their surroundings. For a moment, they forgot about the outside world, lost in the splendor of their temporary home and the promise of adventure that lay ahead.
While Max’s gaze wandered around in amazement, Lando nudged him with a mischievous smile of his own. “Told ya it’ll be worth it.” 
He rolled his eyes but still agreed, “yeah I guess it is.” 
Then, Max bursted into a sprint, running up the stairs while yelling loudly, “I get first pick!” 
Lando shook his head, disagreeing immediately while chasing behind him. After all, they were two men who were kids at heart that were given a huge home all for themselves. 
The next morning dawned bright and clear, filling the villa with a warm golden light that spilled through the windows and danced across the marble floors. 
Lando had been awake for the past couple hours, his internal clock still set to his racing routine. He had woken up to the melody of birds chirping away and light filtering through the sheer curtains, basking for a moment in the change of scenery. 
He had gone for a morning run, relishing the fresh air and serene beauty of the surroundings. On the way back, he picked up some pastries from a local bakery, their aroma enticing and warm. 
Returning to the villa, Lando hummed a tune as he walked towards the kitchen. He paused for a moment, his eyes widening at the amount of natural light coming in through the big windows. The morning sun added a fresh, beautiful touch to the villa, reflecting off the furniture and transforming the space. 
As he placed the pastries on the kitchen counter, Max emerged from his room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, taking in the sight of the sun-drenched villa. “Morning, mate,” he greeted, his voice still laced with traces of sleep. 
“Morning, Max,” Lando replied, holding back a chuckle at his messy morning hair. 
He was lured by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, mingling with the scent of freshly baked pastries. 
“Mm, smells amazing but where did these come from?” He asked before popping a pastry in his mouth. His eyes closed as it melted in his mouth, savouring the taste for a moment. 
Lando grinned, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Glad you like them, I picked them up on my morning run,” he admitted. 
Max raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You went for a run?” he asked, his tone filled with amusement. 
Lando nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “Yeah, figured I’d explore the area a bit and see what’s around,” he explained. 
The first thing Lando did when he laid in bed last night was bring out his phone to search for things to do in this small town. Unfortunately, the internet wasn’t much help, so he decided to take a look around by himself, and perhaps even ask a few locals for advice. 
Then he ducked his head and rubbed his palm on the nape of his neck, “and Jon told me to keep training while we’re here.” 
Max chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well, thanks for bringing back breakfast,” he added, reaching for another pastry. 
Lando picked up one for himself. “Yeah, no problem, but don’t expect it everyday,” he said with a cheeky smile. Max rolled his eyes, ignoring his comment as he sipped on his coffee. 
“What are you planning on doing today?” Max asked after a moment of silence. 
“I saw this market on my run earlier, and was thinking of going to go check it out,” he hummed, thinking back to the beautiful scenery during his short cardio session. 
Max laughed, “look at you, living the small town life already.” 
Lando reached over to smack the pastry out of Max’s hand that he was about to eat. “Hey!” He exclaimed, looking at the fallen treat. 
There was a beat of silence, before Max and Lando made eye contact and then they bursted out into giggles. Amidst their laughter, Max reached down to pick up the fallen pastry, dusting it off before stuffing it in his mouth. 
“Five-second rule, mate,” he muffled. 
“What are you gonna do?” Lando asked, ignoring his best friend’s antics.
He simply shrugged, “I don’t know, mate.” 
“Wanna join me?” Lando suggested, earning a nod from Max, a teasing smile growing on his face. 
“I thought you’d never ask.” 
Lando rolled his eyes, “you don’t have to wait for me to ask.” 
With their breakfast antics over, Lando and Max quickly finished their coffee before deciding to venture out into the town. As they stepped outside, the warm rays of the sun enveloped them, casting a golden glow over the quaint streets. 
The scorching sun bore down upon them, turning the cobblestones into radiant paths of heat. Lando and Max, feeling the intensity of the sun’s rays, walked with beads of sweat forming on their brows. 
Max shielded his eyes from the sun with a hand since he had misplaced his sunglasses. 
Once they were a couple minutes into the walk, they realized that the market they planned to visit was further away than they initially thought. The narrow streets, lined with colourful houses and blooming flowers, stretched out before them, inviting them on a leisurely stroll. 
“Why are we walking?” Max asked, still holding his hand up for a shade. 
Lando raised his own sunglasses to the top of his head in disbelief, “why don’t you have your sunglasses?” 
“Forgot ‘em at the villa,” he grumbled, which only made Lando laugh louder. 
“Check your pockets, mate.” 
Max’s eyes widened when he did in fact find his sunglasses in his pocket. He slid them onto his face with a sigh of relief, finally able to open his eyes properly. 
Just as they began to feel the discomfort of the sweltering weather, a gentle breeze swept in from the nearby seaside, bringing with it a cool and invigorating relief. The breeze, infused with the scent of salt, tousled their hair and kissed their skin, providing a much needed respite from the heat. 
After a few more minutes of walking, Max and Lando finally stumbled upon the market. It was nestled in a quaint square lined with vibrant stalls, each overflowing with a colourful array of fruits, vegetables, flowers, and artisanal crafts. 
They wove their way through the crowded square, taking in the sights and the sounds of the market. The air was alive with the chatter of vendors and the laughter of shoppers, creating a lively atmosphere. The breeze was stronger as the market was closer to the seaside, blowing close to harsh wind in their faces, but it was welcomed due to the strong sun. 
As they browsed the stalls, Max sampled a couple local delicacies first and Lando waited for his approval before trying them as well. 
“Does it have fish?” Lando asked, hesitant in taking the sample from the vendor. 
The vendor chuckled, “no, sir, it’s a dessert filled with cream, topped with hardened sugar.” 
Lando’s mouth dropped open in understanding before taking the sample from him. 
Max couldn’t resist picking up a few souvenirs to take home, like a proper tourist, while Lando struck up conversations with other locals, wanting to find out some details about the town. 
As he held a couple bags of items he bought to remember this trip, Max’s eyes lit up when he spotted a bakery on the other side of the market. 
“Hey, I’m going to check out the bakery over there,” Max pointed. “Grab a couple more treats,” he added. 
Lando nodded, his attention drawn to a colourful display of ripe fruits nearby. “Sounds good, I’ll catch up with you in a bit.” 
The two friends parted ways, Max was enticed by the scent of warm pastries waiting for him while Lando’s mouth watered at the sight of juicy fruits. His trainer had wanted him to stay healthy throughout the break anyways, and this was the perfect opportunity. 
He greeted the vendor and began eyeing the various fruits; plump oranges, crisp apples, perfectly ripe bananas, and more. 
“Good morning! What can I get for you today?” The vendor asked, and Lando thought for a moment before replying. 
“I’ll take some of those oranges, grapes, and oh some apples too, please.” 
The vendor nodded and began putting the fruits into the paper bags, but paused once he bagged both the grapes and oranges. “Forget these apples, get these ones instead,” they said while showcasing another tray of apples that looked very similar. 
“It’s our premium organic apples, the best ones of the bunch.” 
Lando hesitated for a moment, but the vendor’s persuasive tone convinced him that it was a steal. 
To persuade Lando even further, the vendor added, “these ones are special, organic, freshly picked this morning. I’ll give you a good deal, just five dollars for one.” 
Lando blinked in surprise at the price, wondering if a single apple was genuinely five dollars, but then again he never had to do any grocery shopping on his own. Jon would usually bring it for him, or do all the work if they went together. 
Then he reasoned that it must be a rare variety or exceptionally fresh. “Alright, sounds good, give me a couple.” 
Lando happily handed over the money, and thanked the vendor once they passed over the bags. He paused for a moment once he returned to the main street, inhaling the breeze, feeling the tension of his usual everyday life slowly melt away. 
He spotted Max, noticing that he held even more bags than when he previously saw him. As Lando and Max regrouped near the bakery, the latter raved about the variety of treats he bought. “Mate! I think I bought everything.” 
They scanned the bustling market once more, wondering if they should take another look or return to the villa. Max’s gaze wandered towards the seaside, where tranquil waves lapped against the shore. 
“Hey, isn’t that our neighbour from the villa? The one who lives in the cottage?” Max asked, gaining Lando’s attention. 
He followed Max’s gaze and spotted you sitting alone on a bench gazing out at the sparkling sea. Recognition dawned on Lando’s face as he remembered you from yesterday. “Yeah, it is, should I go say hi?” 
Max considered it for a moment, glancing back at the path towards the villa before turning to Lando with a shrug. “Sure, why not? I’ll head back to the villa; catch up later yeah?” 
Lando nodded, grateful for Max’s understanding. “Are you sure you’ll be fine with carrying all that?” He asked jokingly, gesturing at the bags he held. 
“Shut up,” he muttered, nudging him with his shoulder. 
Lando walked off with a chuckle, “see ya.” 
His laughter died down as he approached you, noticing that your gaze was still fixed on the horizon as if you were searching for answers in the endless expanse of the sea. Perhaps you were, and he felt slightly guilty for approaching you, especially since you were far away from the rest of the crowd. 
However, before he could abort the idea, you glanced to the side, looking at him with confusion replacing your previous expressions. 
"Mind if I join you?" he asked, flashing a friendly smile as he stood there, pointing to the empty space next to you. 
Your eyes clouded with a mixture of weariness and suspicion. "Suit yourself," you replied, your tone curt.
Undeterred by your guarded demeanor, Lando took a seat beside you, his curiosity piqued by the enigmatic stranger before him. "Beautiful day, isn't it?" he ventured, attempting to break the ice.
You scoffed, a bitter edge creeping into your voice. "I suppose," you muttered, your gaze returning to the horizon.
Sensing the walls you had erected around yourself, Lando decided to tread carefully, unwilling to push too hard too soon. He placed the bag of fruits on the grass before extending his hand in greeting. "I'm Lando," he introduced himself. 
You hesitated for a moment before reluctantly accepting his handshake and introduced yourself, offering a tentative smile that failed to reach your eyes.
He repeated your name, wanting to become familiar with the way the vowels wrapped around his lips because he had a feeling that he would be saying your name a lot more often now. 
Despite the initial awkwardness, Lando found himself drawn to you, intrigued by the mystery that shrouded your presence. He wondered why you were sitting here alone when there was a crowded market not too far away from here, but he didn’t have the strength to ask just yet. 
He leaned against the bench, sighing as he watched the horizon just like you were. However, it became difficult to choose if the seaside view was prettier or you. He didn’t want you to think he was a creep, so he stole some glances at you every couple of moments without you knowing. 
As you sat in companionable silence, the gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore provided a soothing backdrop, preventing the situation from feeling awkward. 
“How long have you lived in this town?” Lando asked, but the moment he did, he thought that it was too intrusive. 
He waited, one beat, two beats, before you responded. “I’ve lived here my whole life,” you admitted. 
A small smile threatened to grace your lips as you thought of the happier memories you’ve spent here, the ones before the news that turned you into a shell of the person you were once. 
“This town has always been home to me,” you added. 
Lando’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Really? That’s amazing,” he exclaimed, genuine interest sparkling in his eyes. But then his brows furrowed, “have you never felt like leaving this place behind? Move somewhere in the city?” 
You pressed your lips together in a tight smile, thinking of a response that wasn’t along the lines of I did want to leave. I had plans and dreams of studying abroad, living in the city, but fate had a different plan. Instead, you shrugged, “no, I’ve never thought about it before. I guess I like the community here, you know, everyone knows everyone.” 
He chuckled, “that can’t be a good thing all the time though.” 
You shook your head, “not always, news travels around pretty fast.” Feeling a tad bit intrigued by him, you asked, “so what made you come here?” 
“The villa. It’s my friend’s family’s villa and he lent it out for a couple weeks,” he explained, causing you to widen your eyes. “Oh, so you’re my neighbour?” 
He ducked his head and smiled sheepishly, “yeah, that’s, um, kind of why I approached you in the first place.” 
As the conversation ebbed between you and Lando, a comfortable silence settled over the two of you, punctuated only by the rhythmic sounds of waves crashing against the shore. 
After a while, Lando cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Hey, I was wondering… since you’re a local and all, would you mind showing me and a friend around town?” he asked, a hopeful smile on his face. 
When you didn’t answer right away, he continued explaining. “We’ve never been here before, and since we’re here for two weeks, I want to know every hidden gem and secret spot here, something less touristy.” 
You could tell that he was beginning to become nervous, especially based on your expression which you assumed wasn’t kind. You forced a smile on your face, instinctively grazing his knee with your palm that wouldn’t stop bouncing up and down. 
“Yeah, I’ll show you guys around,” you responded, and the warmth of your tone sent a ripple of excitement through Lando. 
His smile widened, “thank you! I went by the market today but I feel like I should have someone giving me a little bit more direction on what to do here.” 
“Oh you went to the market? Buy anything?” You asked, wanting to keep the conversation flowing as well, especially since you liked hearing him speak. 
Lando gestured to the paper bag resting on the floor, “I got a couple fruits. Max, my friend, stocked up on the pastries from the bakery there. He already fell in love with them.” 
You didn’t stop the smile growing on your face. “I totally get that, anything from that bakery is to die for.” 
But then you glanced at the bag he held, and watching your gaze, he elaborated. “I got these organic apples, the vendor said they were giving me a pretty good deal, five dollars each.” 
Your jaw dropped, “five dollars each? You totally got scammed.”
Lando’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Scammed? What do you mean?” he asked, his curiosity piqued. 
“No one sells a single apple for $5, Lando, no matter how ‘organic’ they tell you it is,” you explain, but based on his expression, he still didn’t understand why. 
Although his eyes did widen as he examined the contents. Now that he thought about it, the prices on the fruit seemed exorbitant, far beyond what he thought Jon paid. 
“Everyone in this town bargains, especially in the market,” you added, and he frowned. 
“I don’t need to bargain.” 
You shook your head. “I’m sure you’re rich enough, but the point is that every vendor marks up the price because they know the locals bargain. The public is happy because they bargained, and the vendor is satisfied because the products still sell at a good price.” 
He nodded in understanding, “oh, that’s weird, usually you just pay the price on the tag.” 
“Well that’s the thing, there aren’t any tags, the vendors just set the prices, and they also mark it up if they know that you’re a tourist.” 
His jaw dropped in surprise, “what? That’s not fair.” 
“And that is why you need to know your way around here,” you added, earning a smile from him. 
“That’s why you’re my tour guide.” 
You looked at the horizon as his gaze felt too intense in that moment. He still looked at you, a soft smile on his face mixed with lingering curiosity about you and this town that seemed to draw him in instantly. 
Just then, a familiar voice called out from behind you. “Hey, I’m all done, let’s go back home now?” 
You turned to see Isaac standing with his hands full of produce he bought for dinner, but a curious expression on his face as he noticed Lando next to you. 
“Um, yeah, did you get everything?” You ask as you stand up, and your brother immediately holds out his arm so you can loop your own with his. 
“Yes ma’am, I bought everything on the list,” he said playfully. 
Before he could lead you away, you patted his arm and glanced at Lando, “oh, this is Lando, our neighbour, at the villa.” 
Your brother’s eyes flickered with recognition as he glanced at Lando. “Ah, yes, nice to meet you, I’m Isaac.” 
The corner of Lando’s lip turned up briefly, before he nodded, “same here.” 
The afternoon sun was shining, yet it was cooler than earlier, making the journey back towards your street easier. The market had an influx of visitors since many preferred to stay at home when the morning heat was ablaze. 
Since the three of you were headed in the same direction, you decided to walk together. You walked side by side with your brother, your arm still looped with his. Lando had taken the liberty to carry a couple bags that Isaac held. 
Lando walked a couple steps ahead, as if he was the local and you were the tourist. You didn’t mind it though, because his gaze confused you. Every time he looked at you, he was either close to figuring out your secrets or he was just blissfully unaware.  
He was still a stranger, and you had no plans on telling him anything more than you had to. 
As you walked, the lively chatter of the market gradually faded into the background, replaced by the soothing sounds of the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. 
Despite the tranquility of the moment, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of your mind. Lando’s presence just a couple steps in front of you felt both comforting and disconcerting, his easy demeanour belaying the mystery that seemed to arise at times. 
You thought back to your conversation at the bench, not finding anything concerning about the questions he asked or the responses to yours, but you couldn’t help but still feel on edge. Perhaps you wanted to trust him, but your mind didn’t allow it as easily as your heart willed you to. 
Isaac couldn’t resist teasing you, nudging your side with his elbow and tilting his head towards Lando. 
“So what’s the deal with you and the new neighbour, huh?” he whispered, keeping his voice down to prevent Lando from hearing him. 
You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his arm. “Oh, please. There’s no deal, we just met today.” 
Isaac raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Uh-huh, sure. But I think you’ll be seeing him a lot more often now, don’t you think so?” 
You nodded, “well he does live nearby, and he wants me to be a tour guide for him and his friend, Max, for the time they’re here.” 
He chuckled, his grin widening. “That’s very convenient. But I think you’ve got an admirer.” 
You scoffed, trying to brush off his teasing. “Don’t be ridiculous, he’s just being friendly.” 
“Keep telling yourself that, we’ll see what happens in the next couple of days,” he stated as he draped an arm around your shoulder which only lasted a couple seconds before you pushed him away. 
Since he wasn’t satisfied with just teasing you, he joined Lando’s side, instantly striking up a conversation. “So, Lando, enjoying your stay in our little town so far?” 
He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Definitely, it’s been a refreshing change of scenery.” 
They continued on, speaking as if they knew each other for years.
As you neared the cottage, Lando handed Isaac the paper bags and bid you farewell. “Thanks for the company today, I’ll see you guys around.” 
With a nod and a wave, you and Isaac made your way inside, leaving the events of the day behind you as you retreated into the sanctuary of your shared abode. 
As the late morning sun filtered through the curtains, you stirred from your sleep, greeted by the familiar routine that marks the start of another day. The soft chirping of birds and faint chatter outside your window served as your alarm, nudging you gently into wakefulness.
You slid out of bed and padded over to the window, drawing back the curtains to reveal the tranquil scene outside. The small seaside town unfolded before you, bathed in the soft glow of morning light. It was a picturesque sight, one that you've grown accustomed to over the years.
With a sigh, you turned away from the window and began your morning routine. It's a well-worn pattern by now – first, you head to the bathroom to wash up and brush your teeth, the sound of running water a familiar soundtrack to your mornings.
Next comes the more clinical aspect of your routine. You reached for the small plastic organizer on the bathroom counter, filled with an assortment of medications neatly arranged in separate compartments. Your brother's voice echoed in your mind as you recalled his daily reminder to take your pills – a routine that has become as routine as brushing your teeth.
You dutifully pop each pill into your mouth, washing them down with a gulp of water. It's a mundane task, but one that is essential to your well-being. You've grown accustomed to the bitter taste of the medication, the lingering reminder of your illness that you can't escape.
Once the pills are swallowed, you move on to the next item on your checklist. Your brother's voice drifts in from the hallway, asking if you've taken your medication yet. You respond with a simple "yes," the words slipping easily from your lips.
As you go about your morning routine, there's a sense of detachment that settles over you – a feeling of going through the motions without really being present. It's a coping mechanism, a way to distance yourself from the reality of your illness and the uncertainty that comes with it.
But despite the clinical nature of your routine, there's a quiet determination that drives you forward. Each pill swallowed, each task completed is a small victory in the ongoing battle against your illness, however it’s a battle that you’re not sure if you’ll win or not. 
You finish your morning routine and join Isaac in the kitchen, where he’s already preparing breakfast. He glances up at you as you enter, a warm smile on his face. 
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he greets you, handing you a mug of steaming coffee, your one and only cup a day according to doctor’s orders. 
Still lost in your thoughts, you burn your tongue as you take the first sip. Isaac eyes you carefully, a hint of concern in his gaze as you grab an ice cube and stick it in your mouth. 
“You doing okay?” he asks, his voice soft. 
You force a smile, hoping to reassure him. Pushing the ice cube towards your cheek, you speak, “yeah, just another day.” 
“Just another day? Don’t you have to show Lando and Max around?” He asks, but quickly shifts his gaze to the egg on the pan. 
You nod, grateful for the distraction from your thoughts. "Yeah, I do. I almost forgot," you reply, mentally shaking off the lingering unease that had gripped you earlier.
Isaac watches you closely, his concern evident in his furrowed brow. "Are you sure you're up for it?" he asks, his tone gentle.
You give him a reassuring smile, trying to push aside the gnawing doubts that linger at the back of your mind. 
"I'll be fine," you insist, though the words sound hollow even to your own ears. “I’m thinking of showing them around some of the touristy spots first to get it out of the way, and then some historical sites if they’re up for it,” you explain, making a mental checklist. 
He nods, accepting your answer for now. "Just take it easy, okay? And call me if you need anything," he says, reaching out to squeeze your hand.
You squeeze his hand back, grateful for his unwavering support. "Thanks, Isaac," you murmur, feeling a sense of warmth wash over you in his presence.
Together, you and Isaac finish your breakfast in companionable silence, the weight of the upcoming day lingering in the air. But there was a hint of excitement brewing in your mind once you were reminded of your neighbours, and perhaps it’ll distract you from your usual thoughts. 
Meanwhile, Lando dashed around his room, wearing only a pair of pants, his movements quick and purposeful as he rummaged through his suitcase, searching for the perfect shirt for the day ahead. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table, his brow furrowing in frustration as he realized how quickly time was slipping away.
"Max, are you almost ready?" he called out, his voice tinged with urgency.
From the living room, Max's relaxed voice drifted back. "Yeah, just taking my time. No rush, right?"
Lando rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as he continued his frantic search for the right outfit. He held up a full sleeved sweatshirt against himself, judging the shirt in the mirror.
“No, too hot,” he muttered to himself and tossed the garment aside. He continued shuffling through the suitcase, not having the time to unpack completely. 
Then he held up a simpler t-shirt, considering it for a moment before shaking his head. “Too casual,” he mumbled, discarding it onto the growing pile of rejected clothes. 
With a sense of growing frustration, Lando finally spotted a light, airy button-down shirt that seemed suitable for the warm weather. He quickly slipped it on, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as the fabric settled comfortably against his skin. 
Satisfied with his choice, Lando turns his attention to his hair, running his fingers through his unruly curls in an attempt to tame them into some semblance of order. After a few futile attempts, he huffed and searched around for his beloved bucket hat, placing it on his head to prevent putting more effort into his hair. 
Glancing at himself in the mirror, he straightened his shirt and adjusted his hat. As a final touch, Lando grabbed his sunglasses and hastily shoved them in his pocket, then grabbed his phone and wallet before heading out of the room. 
As he entered the living room, Lando found Max lounging on the couch, seemingly unperturbed by the passing time. "C'mon, mate, we're gonna be late because of you," Lando chided, his tone laced with exasperation.
Max shrugged nonchalantly, a lazy grin playing across his lips. "She didn't give you a time."
Lando resisted the urge to roll his eyes, his frustration mounting with each passing second. "I know, but she's taking time out of her day to show us around. We need to be respectful."
Max chuckled, propping himself up on one elbow as he regarded Lando with amusement. "You asked her to show us around, you didn't need to."
Lando sighed, his patience wearing thin. "She's a local, Max. It's important to make a good impression."
Max's grin widened, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Is that all what she is?"
Soon enough, Max decided to spare his best friend from further frustration and went upstairs to get dressed. 
While he did so, Lando thought about Max’s question, which he left unanswered. You were a mere stranger, yet after meeting you yesterday, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. 
Lando instantly sat up after a moment, looking around the room and spotting his digital camera sitting on the table nearby. He picked it up by the straps of the bag, wanting to take as many photos of the events of today as he could. 
The sound of footsteps echoed from upstairs, and soon Max reappeared, clad in a fresh set of clothes. He flashed a grin before taking his phone back from Lando. 
“Finally ready?” Lando teased, looking up at him. 
Max rolled his eyes, “yes.” He ran a hand through his tousled hair before asking, “what’s the plan for today?” 
Lando shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “that’s for our lovely tour guide to decide.” 
With a nod of agreement, Lando walked beside Max as they left the villa together. 
Their footsteps crunched echoed softly against the cobblestone path. The afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the landscape, illuminating the streets as it was at the highest peak. As they made their way down the path, they spotted you stepping out of the cottage, a faint smile on your face as you headed towards them. 
“Hey, look who’s here,” Max remarked, nudging Lando with his elbow. 
Lando grinned in return, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. “Hi,” he muttered as you stood in front of him. 
You were quickly introduced to Max, and exchanged greetings before leading the way down the street. 
“So, where are we off to today?” Max asked, his gaze looking around before returning back to you. 
“Well, I thought we could start with a stroll through the town square,” you suggested, gesturing towards the many narrow streets. “Then, I’ll show you around a couple historic spots?” You asked, pausing and looking at them for a reaction. 
Lando nodded in agreement, “sounds like a plan, lead the way, tour guide.” 
With a playful grin, you set off towards the heart of the town, Lando and Max falling into step beside you. 
As you lead Lando and Max through the winding streets of the town, each building you pass enveloped you in a sense of nostalgia. Each cobblestone path seemed to hold a story, whispered through the intricate architecture and vibrant colours of houses. 
“You see that old bookstore over there?” you pointed, a smile playing on your lips. “It’s been here for generations, and they have the most fascinating collection of rare books.” 
Lando’s eyes sparkled with intrigue as he glanced at the bookstore. “I’ll have to check it out then,” he stated. 
“Avid reader?” You asked, walking side by side. 
He shook his head, “not at all, but there has to be something fascinating if you like it.” 
You chuckled at his response, focusing your gaze ahead as you felt your cheeks redden. “Well, I worked there as a teen, and from my experience, it’s always worth exploring.” 
Lando nodded in agreement, his gaze lingering on the bookstore as you passed by it. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 
Max fell a couple of steps behind as he watched the interaction between you and Lando. Then he quickly caught up to his best friend, nudging him gently to gain his attention. “You know I’m here too, right?” 
Lando rolled his eyes, “yeah, yeah, I know.” 
As you led the way through the bustling crowd, Lando and Max trailed behind you, keeping close to ensure they didn’t lose sight of you amidst the throng of people. Along the winding streets, you were greeted by familiar faces, the locals calling out your name and exchanging warm greetings as you passed by. 
Lando eagerly captured every picturesque moment with his camera. Occasionally, he would lower the camera to observe you as you engaged in conversations with strangers, raising the camera to his eye once more to capture candid moments of your interactions with them.
Amidst the lively atmosphere, you pointed out hidden gems nestled in the nooks and crannies of the town. From cozy art galleries adorned with vibrant paintings to antique shops filled with treasures of bygone eras, each discovery added to the tapestry of the town’s charm. 
With each step, you shared tidbits of local history and anecdotes, painting a vivid picture of life in the town. Lando and Max listened attentively, their eyes alight with curiosity as they soaked in the sights and sounds of the vibrant community. 
Walking down the narrow streets, you pointed out the historic clock tower and the old, abandoned church beside it. You mentioned that it was the oldest structure in town and pushed open the wooden doors.
Max looked around, intrigued. The interior had a musty scent mixed with faint incense, and sunlight streamed through stained glass, casting colorful patterns. He admired the architecture, understanding why it was cherished.
As you explored, you shared the tower’s history, noting its construction by skilled craftsmen from distant towns. The vaulted ceilings and stone pillars added to the sense of reverence. You paused, letting Max and Lando roam.
They were captivated by the church’s history and beauty, momentarily forgetting the outside world. Emerging into the sunlight, they exchanged awed glances, touched by the experience. It was a moment they would remember.
“So, what’s next on the agenda?” Lando asked, glancing down at his camera and scrolling through the photos before looking up at you. 
You grinned, “well there’s a garden not too far from here. It’s the perfect place to unwind and enjoy the beauty of nature.” 
Max’s eyes lit up with excitement, “yes, please, that sounds amazing.” 
With a laugh, you led them along winding pathways lined with vibrant blooms leading towards the tranquil garden. 
Max let out a contented sigh, “this place is amazing.” 
You smiled, gesturing towards a cluster of vibrant flowers. “There’s something magical about it.” 
Lando nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning the picturesque surroundings. “Definitely worth the visit,” he remarked, raising his camera to capture the beauty around him. 
The tranquility of the garden seemed to envelop you, wrapping you in a sense of peace and serenity. Tall trees cast dappled shadows across the well-tended lawns, providing relief from the midday sun. The air was alive with the melodious chirping of birds and the occasional buzz of bees flitting from blossom to blossom. 
The garden was a lush oasis, meticulously landscaped with winding pathways that meandered among vibrant flower beds and verdant shrubbery. 
Max glanced at the pond, where a family of ducks paddled lazily. "Hey, check out those ducks," he exclaimed, pointing towards the water. "They look so peaceful."
You chuckled, nodding towards a nearby bench. "Let's take a seat and enjoy the view," you suggested.
As you sat on the stone bench, a sense of calm washed over you, the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds creating a soothing melody. Max and Lando joined you, their expressions reflecting a similar sense of contentment.
Water lilies floated gracefully on top of the clear waters, their delicate blooms adding a touch of elegance to the scene. 
"This is nice," Max remarked, leaning back against the bench. "Thanks for bringing us here."
Lando nodded, his gaze drifting across the garden. "Yeah, it's a hidden gem," he agreed. "I never would've found it on my own."
You smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction at sharing this special place with your neighbours. "I'm glad you both like it," you said warmly. "There's so much beauty to discover in this town if you know where to look."
As Lando admired the blooming flowers around him, his eyes settled on a particularly vibrant flower. With a grin, he plucked it from its stem, carefully holding it between his fingers.
"Hey, can I?" he asked, gesturing towards your hair with a playful twinkle in his eye.
You chuckled, nodding in amusement. "Sure, go ahead," you replied, tilting your head slightly to give him better access.
Lando leaned towards you with a grin, gently tucking the flower behind your ear. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingers brushing against your skin as he adjusted the placement of the bloom.
"There," he said with satisfaction, leaning back to admire his handiwork. "Looks perfect."
You couldn't help but smile at the gesture, feeling a warmth spread through you at the simple yet thoughtful gesture. "Thank you," you said softly, meeting Lando's gaze with appreciation.
You picked out another flower, holding it in front of him with a small smile. “My turn?” 
Lando chuckled, leaning forward and allowing you to place the flower behind his ear. His gaze remained steady on your face, watching as you stuck the tip of your tongue out between your lips in concentration. 
Leaning back, you looked at him with a smile. “There, now we match.” 
“I see how it is,” Max grumbled from beside you, earning a chuckle from you and Lando. 
Simultaneously, you and Lando picked out a couple of flowers, and placed them in his hair, his curls holding it steady. 
“Cute,” you commented once you completed the masterpiece with the last flower. Max laughed as he looked at himself in his phone camera, snapping a selfie for memories before telling you and Lando to join. 
Your face was squished between Lando and Max’s faces, both men displaying a cheesy grin for the photo, making you join in as well. 
As the gentle breeze ruffled through the garden, Lando turned towards you with a curious glint in his eyes. “Are there any other magical places you want to show us?” 
You pondered for a moment, considering the myriad of hidden gems scattered throughout the town. “Well, there’s one more spot I have in mind,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. 
Max perked up at the mention of another adventure, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “I’m in, lead the way.” 
With a nod, you rose from the bench, the flower in your hair swaying gently with the movement. “Let’s go,” you said, gesturing for Max and Lando to join you as you embarked on the next part of your journey. 
As you led Max and Lando out of the garden, the thought of another special place lingered in your mind. The lighthouse, with its storied history and breathtaking views, beckoned to you like a beacon in the distance. 
Lost in thought, you considered whether to reveal this cherished spot to your neighbours. The lighthouse held a special significance for you, a place of solace and reflection that you rarely shared with others. But something about Max and Lando’s genuine curiosity and enthusiasm stirred something within you, prompting you to entertain the idea of introducing them to this hidden gem. 
With a flicker of determination, you made up your mind. The lighthouse would be the perfect finale to your tour, a fitting conclusion to a day filled with discovery and adventure. 
As you neared the lighthouse, it stood tall against the sky, looking sturdy and ancient. Lando seemed really excited, his eyes wide as he took it all in. Max looked a bit unsure, especially when he saw the stairs leading up. 
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” you said softly once you saw Lando’s expression, feeling a sense of awe yourself. 
He nodded eagerly, clearly impressed. “Yeah, it’s really cool,” he said, his voice filled with excitement. 
“Are we going up there?” Max asked, a hint of apprehension creeping into his voice as he surveyed the towering structure. 
You nodded, a sense of reverence washing over you as you gazed up at the weathered bricks and the solitary lateen perched at the top of the lighthouse. “Yes, it’s probably my favourite spot in this entire town.” 
But Max seemed hesitant, eyeing the stairs with doubt. “I’m not too sure about this,” he admitted quietly. 
You understood his feelings and wanted to reassure him. “That’s okay, Max,” you said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t have to climb all the way up if you don’t want to. We can still explore around here.” 
Max glanced at Lando, “actually you know what? you guys should go up.” Max said suddenly, giving you a nod, “I’ll stay down here.” 
You frowned, “are you sure? I can show you around elsewhere.” 
But Max shook his head, “yeah, I’m sure. I know Lando really wants to check it out and I don’t wanna hold you guys back.” 
“You’re gonna miss out, mate, just c’mon it’s a couple stairs,” Lando tried to convince his best friend. 
He shook his head, “a couple? Looks like a lot, no, I’m good.” 
With a final nod of reassurance, you and Lando headed towards the first couple of stairs, leaving Max behind. As you began the trek upwards, your comment from earlier intrigued Lando. “Why is this your favourite spot?” 
“People don’t come here often, perhaps it’s because of the story behind it,” you replied, your words tinged with a hint of mystery. 
“What, is it haunted or something?” He asked, a skeptical look crossing his face. 
You shook your head, a wistful smile playing on your lips. “Legend says that this lighthouse is haunted, but I believe it’s just a tragic love story,” you explained. 
“A love story? Do tell,” Lando urged, his curiosity piqued. 
“It was decades ago, the story passed on from neighbour to neighbour, so I’m not exactly sure which parts are true,” you forewarned. 
Lando smiled, “and you’re passing it on to your neighbour.” 
You glanced back at him, pausing for a moment so he could catch up, standing on the same step as you, just a tad bit taller. You didn’t realize how narrow the staircase was until he was standing beside you, since you’ve only ever come here alone. 
The air was heavy with the scent of salt and sea, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore echoed faintly in the distance. Lando's eyes scanned your face, patiently waiting to hear the story. 
You cleared your throat, looking away from him. "You see, there was once a young couple who sought refuge in this lighthouse," you began, your voice tinged with a hint of melancholy, recounting an old tale. "They were not from noble families or romance novels, but rather ordinary people with ordinary lives."
Lando leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued by the hint of mystery in your voice, causing you to shift on your feet but still remaining in the same spot, almost pressed against the wall beside you. 
"The young man was a fisherman, his days spent toiling away on the sea, his hands calloused from years of hard work," you continued, your words painting a picture of a life marked by struggle and perseverance. "And the young woman was a seamstress, her fingers nimble with the needle and thread, her dreams tempered by the harsh realities of life."
Lando's gaze softened with empathy as he imagined the challenges faced by the young couple. 
"But despite the hardships they endured, their love burned fiercely, a flame that refused to be extinguished by the storms of life," you said, your voice tinged with admiration for the resilience of the human spirit. "They would steal moments together in the quiet solitude of the lighthouse, finding solace in each other's arms amidst the chaos of the world."
Lando's heart swelled with warmth at the thought of such a simple yet profound love. You cleared your throat once you saw a hint of his smile, turning away and continuing your trek up the stairs while continuing the story. 
"But their happiness was fleeting, as life has a way of testing even the strongest of bonds," you continued, your voice growing somber as you recounted the challenges faced by the young couple. "Their days were filled with hardship and uncertainty, their dreams overshadowed by the harsh realities of poverty."
Lando followed after you, his breath caught in his throat as he listened, his heart heavy with the weight of the young couple's struggles. 
"And so, when tragedy struck and the young man was lost at sea, the young woman was left alone to face the cruel hand of fate," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of the wind howling through the lighthouse. "Her grief was a burden too heavy to bear, her tears a testament to the depth of her sorrow."
Tears welled in Lando's eyes as he imagined the young woman's pain. 
"And though the years passed and the world moved on, the lighthouse remained standing as a silent witness to the love that once flourished within its walls," you concluded, your voice tinged with a sense of reverence for the enduring legacy of the young couple. "Their spirits may have faded into the mists of time, but their love lives on in the whispers of the wind and the crashing of the waves, a reminder that even in the darkest of nights, love can be a guiding light."
Lando remained silent, his heart heavy with the weight of the young couple's story, as he pondered the fragile nature of love and the enduring power of human resilience in the face of adversity.
“You’re not making this up, are you?” He asked, just to be sure, but once he didn’t see you burst out laughing, he knew the answer. 
"Legend has it that their spirits linger within these walls, bound by an eternal love that transcends the confines of time," you explained. "They say the light still flickers on stormy nights, a beacon of hope in the darkness, as if she's searching for her lost love amidst the crashing waves."
As you and Lando continued climbing the spiral staircase, the wooden steps creaked beneath your feet, each groan echoing through the hollow chamber like a whispered secret. The air grew cooler as you ascended, a faint scent of salt lingering in the air, a reminder of the vast expanse of ocean that stretched out beyond the horizon.
With each step, the world outside faded away, replaced by the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the narrow windows, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow on the worn stone walls. Lando's footsteps fell in sync with yours, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of the swirling emotions that stirred within you.
As you reach the top of the lighthouse, a sense of awe washed over you, the panoramic view of the coastline stretching out before you like a painting come to life. The sea stretched out endlessly, its surface shimmering in the sunlight, while seagulls soared overhead, their cries mingling with the distant roar of the waves. It’s a sight you’ve seen many times, but every time still feels like the first. 
Lando stood beside you, his gaze fixed on the horizon, his expression a mixture of wonder and awe. For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the weight of the young couple's story hanging heavy in the air, a reminder of the fragile nature of love and the enduring power of human resilience.
As the light of the setting sun bathed the world in a warm golden glow, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you, a quiet acceptance of the mysteries that lay hidden within the depths of the human heart.
With a soft sigh, you turned to Lando, a small smile playing on your lips. "Isn't it beautiful?" you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
Lando nodded, his eyes shining with a newfound appreciation for the simple beauty of the world around him. "It's breathtaking," he agreed, his voice tinged with emotion.
As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting vibrant hues of orange and pink across the sky, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the breathtaking beauty of the sunset. The world seemed to slow down, the cares and worries of the day fading away as you stood transfixed by the natural spectacle unfolding before you.
But as the sky darkened and the first stars began to twinkle overhead, a pang of realization cut through the tranquil moment. It was almost nighttime, which meant it was time for your pills. You glanced at your watch, a flicker of anxiety fluttering in your chest as you calculated the minutes ticking away.
For a brief moment, you considered the consequences of being late in taking your medication. The regimen was strict, the consequences dire if you missed a dose. But as you looked at Lando standing beside you, gazing at you,  his eyes reflecting the colors of the setting sun, a different thought crossed your mind.
Maybe, just this once, it was worth it to be a little late. Maybe, in this moment of shared beauty and connection, the rules could be bent just enough to allow you to savor the fleeting magic of the evening.
With a soft smile, you tucked the thought away, allowing yourself to linger a little while longer in the warm embrace of the sunset. 
“Stay like that,” Lando instructed with a pointed finger at you. 
“Like what?” You mumbled. 
“Don’t move a muscle,” he hastily replied, holding the straps of the camera that was hung around his neck, quickly turning it on and pointing at you. 
“You look beautiful in this light,” He stated, slightly gesturing to his camera before raising it. 
A tint of blush covered your cheeks but you didn’t prevent him from taking a photo of you. 
Remaining still, you heard the shutter click, once, twice, and even a third time before he was satisfied with the result. 
“What are you going to do with those photos?” You ask, remembering that he’s taken quite a lot of them today, of all the different sceneries. 
“Put 'em in an album, you know, for memories, and I can’t forget my favourite tour guide,” he said with a cheeky grin. 
“Favourite? That’s quite a title for only the first day,” you teased with a smile, leaning against the railing, choosing to look at Lando instead of the setting sun. 
“You know how to make a good impression, it’s hard not to call you my favourite.” 
You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "Well, I'm glad I could leave a good impression," you replied, a hint of playfulness in your tone.
Lando grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You've done more than that," he said, his voice softening. "You've shown us a side of this town that we never would've discovered on our own."
You felt a swell of pride at his words, grateful for the opportunity to share your hometown with new friends. "I'm just happy I could show you around," you said sincerely.
As the last rays of sunlight faded into darkness, you reluctantly tore your gaze away from Lando's, the moment of connection lingering in the air between you. "I suppose we should head back now," you said, a hint of regret coloring your voice.
Lando hesitated but nodded in agreement, “can’t keep Max waiting this long.” 
But before you could move, he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Thank you, for everything," he said softly, his eyes searching yours.
You felt your heart skip a beat at his touch, a rush of warmth flooding through you at the intimate gesture. "You're welcome," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
With a lingering smile, Lando turned and started back towards the path, leaving you standing alone on the balcony, your thoughts swirling with a heady mix of emotions. Shaking your head to rid yourself of those thoughts, you followed him down the steps. 
“Mate, it’s good that you didn’t come, she said it’s haunted.” You heard Lando’s voice, speaking to Max. 
When you came into his view, Max looked at you with widened eyes, “haunted?” 
You shrugged, looking at Lando, “it’ll make for a good bedtime story, don’t you think?” 
Max started shaking his head, but Lando nodded, “I’ll be sure to tell him right before he gets a good night’s sleep.” 
On the way back home, Lando had been so impressed by your touring skills that he had already started asking about your plans for the next day. With no responsibilities on your schedule, the three of you decided to go hiking on a nearby trail.
As you reached your cottage, the familiar sense of fatigue washed over you, dulling the edges of your excitement from the day’s activities. With a wave and a promise to meet again tomorrow for more adventures, you bid farewell to Lando and Max, watching as they walked off to the villa. 
Once they were out of sight, you allowed your smile to fade, the weight of the day settling heavily on your shoulders. The ache in your joints intensified, a reminder of the illness that lurked beneath the surface, threatening to consume you if you let your guard down. 
Stepping inside the cottage, you were surprised to find Isaac waiting for you in the dimly lit living room. His expression was a mix of concern and mild frustration as he looked up from his book.
"You didn’t take your nightly pills on time," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You know you can’t skip it."
You sighed, the heaviness in your chest feeling almost unbearable. "Isaac, stop acting like our mother," you mumbled, moving past him to the kitchen.
Isaac followed you, not willing to let it go. "I’m serious. You’ve had a long day, and you need to take care of yourself. I don’t want you to overdo it."
Grabbing the bottle of medication from the counter, you turned to face him, irritation mingling with the fatigue in your eyes. "I know, okay? I just wanted one evening where I didn’t have to think about it. Just one."
He watched you with a mix of empathy and helplessness, understanding your need for normalcy but unable to ignore the reality of your condition. "I get it, I really do. But skipping your meds isn’t the way to do it."
With a heavy sigh, you filled a glass with water and downed the pills, the bitter taste lingering on your tongue. "Happy now?" you muttered, setting the empty glass down.
Isaac's expression softened, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. "I’m just worried about you," he said quietly.
You nodded, the weight of his concern settling heavily on your shoulders. "I know. I appreciate it, really. It’s just… sometimes it’s hard to keep going like this."
He reached out and squeezed your shoulder gently. "We’ll get through it, together. Just promise me you’ll take it easy tomorrow, okay?"
A faint smile tugged at your lips as you nodded. "Go get some sleep. You’ve been waiting up for me."
Isaac gave you a small, reassuring smile before heading to his room. As you settled into bed, the weight of exhaustion dragging at your limbs, you couldn’t help but wonder how many more days like this lay ahead. The uncertainty of the future loomed large in your mind, casting a shadow over even the simplest moments of joy.
As you drifted off to sleep, your thoughts lingered on Lando and Max. Their arrival felt like a breath of fresh air, a chance to momentarily forget about your illness and embrace a semblance of normalcy. They didn’t know about your condition, which meant they wouldn't look at you with pity or treat you like a fragile doll. Their presence offered a respite from the constant reminders of your limitations, an opportunity to live in the moment and savor each day as it came.
For so long, your life had been governed by routines and restrictions, every decision weighed against the backdrop of your illness. But with Lando and Max, you felt a sense of freedom, an invitation to break away from the chains that bound you. They saw you not as someone fragile, but as a capable guide and a new friend. You wanted to hold onto that feeling, to let their presence remind you of who you were beyond the confines of your diagnosis.
Their energy and zest for life felt like a tonic; lifting your spirits and reigniting your desire to experience the world beyond your illness. With them, you could laugh freely, explore without fear, and simply be yourself without constantly worrying. Yet, there was a lingering guilt that gnawed at you, a silent whisper that you were using them, exploiting their company to escape your reality. 
Despite the joy they brought, this guilt cast a shadow over your newfound happiness. You didn’t want to deceive them or yourself, but the allure of living fully and freely, even for a short while, was too tempting to resist. You resolved to make the most of their visit, using their company as an excuse to live as vibrant as you once did. 
The next morning, you moved with practiced stealth, careful not to make a sound as you gathered your hiking gear. The house was still and quiet, the early hour providing a perfect cover for your escape. You knew your brother would disapprove of your plans to go hiking with Lando, so you hoped to slip out before he noticed.
Just as you reached the front door, the sound of footsteps halted your progress. Turning, you saw Isaac standing there, a backpack slung over his shoulder, clearly ready to head out himself. His eyes narrowed as he took in your gear.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Isaac’s voice was tight with concern.
You sighed, knowing this confrontation was inevitable. “I’m going hiking with Lando. It’s just a short trail, nothing too strenuous.”
Isaac’s expression darkened. “Didn’t I tell you to take it easy? When are you going to take care of yourself?”
“What more do you want me to do?” you snapped, your frustration bubbling over. “Should I wrap myself up in bubble wrap and stay in bed until I inevitably die?”
“Don’t say that,” Isaac’s voice wavered, his concern morphing into something deeper and more painful.
“I have to!” you shouted, the dam of pent-up emotions finally breaking. “I have to acknowledge it, to you, to our parents, because while you guys are doing everything in your power to ignore it, it’s still gonna happen whether you like it or not.”
He took a step back, his face pale. “I just want you to be safe.”
“I’m going to die anyways,” you continued, your voice trembling with the weight of your confession. “Whether it’s tomorrow or a couple of weeks later, I’ve accepted that by now. You know why? Because even if I’m alive right now, I’m treated like a fucking corpse. I cannot do a single thing without our mother’s voice in my mind. ‘Oh, don’t stand for too long, don’t walk for too long, take your meds, don’t let your heartbeat speed up, don’t eat this, don’t eat that.’ It’s fucking tiring. Forget her, I can’t even be an older sister anymore for you. For god’s sake, you make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for us. You’re acting as if I can’t lift a single spoon.”
Isaac’s eyes were filled with tears now, but you couldn’t stop. The words poured out, each one a release of years of pent-up frustration and pain. “The entire town knows, Isaac. Any time I go out, I see the pity in their eyes. You know who doesn’t know? Lando and Max. And I have no plans on telling them because they actually treat me like a healthy human, something you guys won’t ever do again.”
You didn’t wait for his response, not allowing him to speak. You walked out the door, letting it close behind you with a finality that echoed your determination. 
When you reached, Lando was already waiting for you by the trailhead, leaning casually against a tree with his backpack at his feet. He waved when he saw you approaching, his smile faltering slightly as he noticed the tension in your posture and the slight frown on your face.
"Hey, there you are!" he called out, his voice bright. "I was starting to think you'd changed your mind."
"Sorry, I'm a bit late," you replied, forcing a smile.
Lando's brow furrowed with concern. "Everything okay?"
You waved it off, not wanting to delve into the argument with Isaac. "Yeah, just had a rough morning. Let's get going, shall we?"
He nodded, still seeming a bit unsure. "Alright, if you say so." He hoisted his backpack over his shoulder and fell into step beside you as you started down the trail.
“Max isn’t joining us today?” you asked as you started the hike.
Lando shrugged playfully. “Nah, he’s not really the hiking type.”
In truth, Lando thought back to the moment he convinced Max to do something else. He had wanted this time alone with you, to get to know you better without any distractions. The way your face lit up when you talked about your favorite places made him want to see more of that joy.
You laughed, shaking your head. "Yeah, he doesn't seem like the outdoorsy type. I guess we'll have to find something else to drag him into."
As you continued along the path, Lando’s closeness became even more evident. He would occasionally place his hand on your back to guide you over rough terrain or hold your hand to help you across a stream. Each touch was gentle yet charged with an energy that made your heart race.
The path wound through a dense forest, dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy above. The air was fresh, filled with the scent of pine and the sound of birds chirping. As you walked, the tension from your argument with Isaac began to ease, the peaceful surroundings and Lando's infectious enthusiasm slowly lifting your spirits.
"Maybe we can convince him to join us on a beach day or something," Lando said, his thoughts lingering on how much he enjoyed these moments alone with you. "But honestly, I'm kinda glad it's just the two of us today. More time to get to know my favorite tour guide."
You felt a flutter in your chest at his words, the compliment warming you from the inside. “Still your favorite tour guide, huh?”
He shrugged playfully. "The competition is tough, but you’re always coming out on top. Besides, I figured I needed some one-on-one time to really experience what this town has to offer."
As the trail began to climb, you focused on your breathing, matching your pace to Lando's. The conversation drifted to lighter topics, and you found yourself relaxing more with each step. The forest opened up to a meadow filled with wildflowers, the colors vivid and bright under the morning sun.
Lando knelt down to take a photo of a particularly vibrant patch of flowers. "This place is incredible. How do you know all these hidden spots?"
"I've lived here my whole life," you said, watching him as he adjusted the focus on his camera. "Spent a lot of time exploring."
"Must be nice," he said, standing up and looking around. "Having all this beauty right in your backyard."
"Yeah, it is," you replied, though your thoughts drifted back to the times you wanted to leave this place. "Sometimes you take it for granted until you share it with someone else."
Eventually, you reached a lookout point with a breathtaking view of the coastline along with the lighthouse you explored yesterday. The ocean stretched out endlessly, waves glittering in the sunlight. Lando pulled out his camera again, capturing the scene and a few candid shots of you taking in the view.
"This is amazing," he said, his voice filled with awe. "Thanks for bringing me here."
You smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment mixed with a pang of guilt. Lando didn’t know the real reason behind your determination to hike today, nor the weight you were trying to escape. 
"You're welcome," you replied. "I'm glad you're here to share it with me."
As you stood there, side by side with Lando, your words said to Isaac still lingered in the back of your mind, wondering if you'd said the wrong thing. You knew that you had to take a stand for yourself, otherwise you’d be pressured into regret, but he’s also your brother and he’s always wanted the best for you. You pushed those thoughts down, determined to make the most of this day as if it was your last. 
With Lando's enthusiasm and the beauty of the surroundings, you found it easier to forget, even if just for a little while, the shadow that always loomed over you.
"So, what's next on our adventure?" Lando asked, breaking the silence.
You laughed softly. "Let's just see where the trail takes us."
Once Lando was satisfied with the amount of photos he took, you began to descend the trail from the lookout point. The path became steeper causing you to walk carefully, trying to focus on your footing. 
The trail wound through another section of dense forest with the ground covered in a thick layer of fallen leaves. You and Lando continued to chat, touching upon all sorts of topics. 
Just as you were starting to relax, your foot caught on a hidden root and you found yourself losing balance. Panic surged through you as your ankle twisted painfully. Before you could hit the ground, Lando was there, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you upright. His grip was strong and steady, and you clung to him for a moment, trying to catch your breath and process the sudden burst of pain. 
“Whoa, are you okay?” Lando asked, concern etched on his face as he steadied you. 
You winced, trying to put weight on your ankle and finding it difficult. “I think I twisted my ankle.” 
Lando’s brows furrowed with worry. “Let’s sit down for a minute. Here, lean on me.” 
He guided you to a nearby rock, helping you sit down gently. He knelt in front of you, examining your ankle with a careful touch. “Does it hurt a lot?” 
You nodded, biting your lip to keep from crying out. “Yeah, it does.”
Lando looked around, his face serious. “I think we should head back. I don’t want you to make it worse.”
You sighed, feeling a wave of frustration mixed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Lando. I didn’t mean to ruin our hike.”
He shook his head, his expression softening. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Your safety is more important than the hike. Besides, we can always come back another time.”
He helped you stand, supporting your weight as you gingerly tested your injured ankle. With his arm around your waist, you felt a mixture of gratitude and awkwardness, acutely aware of his closeness and the concern in his eyes.
As you slowly made your way back down the trail, Lando stayed close, his grip on you firm but gentle. His presence was comforting, and despite the pain, you felt a sense of connection with him that was hard to ignore.
Back at the trailhead, Lando leads you towards his car, surprising you. “When did you get a car?” 
“Figured I’d rent one while I’m here, just so we don’t have to walk everywhere,” Lando shrugged as he explained. 
He helped you into his car, making sure you were comfortable before getting in himself. He started the car, casting quick glances at you to ensure you were alright. The engine’s hum was a soothing background noise as he navigated the road back to town. 
“You know,” he began, trying to lighten the mood, “I think this might be the first hike I’ve been on where we didn’t make it to the top.”
You chuckled softly, appreciating his effort to keep things light. “There’s a first for everything, I guess.”
He smiled, eyes focused on the road. “Yeah, and now we have an excuse to do it again. When you’re feeling better, of course.”
You leaned back, the pain in your ankle dulling slightly with the rest. “I appreciate that, Lando. And I promise, next time, no hidden roots.”
He laughed, a genuine sound that made you feel a bit better about the whole situation. “Deal.”
As you pulled into the town, Lando’s concern was still evident. “Do you want to go straight to the clinic, or should we stop by your place first?”
“Home is fine,” you replied. “I’ll just need some ice and rest.”
Lando nodded, driving directly to your house. He parked and quickly came around to help you out. With his support, you hobbled across the driveway to the front door, quickly finding your keys and entering. 
Inside, you settled on the couch while Lando fetched some ice from the kitchen with your directions. He elevated your foot, resting it on a cushion before gently placing the ice pack on your ankle. “Keep this on for a while,” he instructed, earning a chuckle from you. 
“Okay, Doctor Lando.” You winced slightly at the cold but knew it was necessary. “Thank you,” you muttered softly as he joined you on the couch. 
“Hey, what are friends for?” He shot back.
You raised your eyebrows. “When did we become friends?” you asked teasingly. 
Without a beat, he responded, “from the moment you told me I got scammed.” 
You shook your head with a smile on your face. His genuine care and the connection you felt during the hike was undeniable. Despite the pain and the day’s mishap, you still enjoyed it all. 
As you both sat there, the sun beginning to set outside, you felt a strange sense of peace. Maybe you couldn’t control everything about your condition, but you could control how you spent your time. Right now, with Lando by your side, you felt like you were making the most of it. 
“How about we watch a movie?” Lando suggested, breaking the comfortable silence. “Something to take your mind off things.” 
“That sounds perfect,” you agreed. 
As the movie started, you felt the tension of the day begin to fade, replaced by a warm sense of contentment. As the soft glow of the television cast a warm light across the room, you heard the front door creak open. You tensed slightly, knowing it was Isaac. The memory of your heated argument from earlier that morning returned to your mind like it was fresh, and you weren’t sure how he would react to finding Lando here. 
Isaac stepped into the living room, his eyes flicking between you and Lando, and then down to your ankle propped up with an ice pack. His brows furrowed in surprise, and his look spoke volumes — a silent “I told you so” about taking it too far.
“Hey,” Isaac said, his tone carefully neutral as he addressed Lando. “What’s going on here?”
“Hey,” Lando responded, sensing the tension but keeping his tone friendly. “We went hiking, and she twisted her ankle.”
Isaac’s eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of concern and frustration flashing across his face. “I see.”
You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the need to explain but also not wanting to escalate the situation. “It’s just a sprain, Isaac. Lando’s been helping me out.”
Isaac nodded curtly, his gaze softening slightly but still clearly worried. “Thanks, mate,” he addressed Lando. 
He started towards the kitchen, clearly not wanting to prolong the conversation but not ignoring your presence either.
You watched him go, feeling a mix of relief and lingering tension. The argument had left a mark, but you could see that he was making an effort to understand your perspective, even if he wasn’t ready to talk about it.
Lando glanced at you, sensing the undercurrent of emotion. “You and your brother… everything okay?”
You sighed softly, not wanting to burden him with the details. “We had a disagreement earlier. It’s complicated.”
He nodded, not pushing further but offering a supportive presence. “Well, I’m here if you need anything.”
Isaac reappeared a few minutes later with a glass of water, which he handed to you without a word. You took it with a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
He simply nodded again and headed to his room, leaving you and Lando alone in the living room. Despite the brief interaction, you felt a subtle shift in Isaac’s demeanor. He was trying, in his own way, to respect your wishes and not overdo his concern for your illness.
As the movie continued, you found yourself relaxing again, the earlier tension easing away. Lando’s easygoing nature and the quiet understanding from your brother provided a much-needed sense of balance.
The minutes ticked by, and you found yourself growing more comfortable and drowsy, especially with Lando’s warm presence beside you. Earlier, you had mentioned feeling cold, due to the ice, and he had fetched a blanket, draping it over both of you. As you nestled into the couch, the combination of the movie’s soft soundtrack and Lando’s steady breathing lulled you into a peaceful sleep.
Lando noticed when your head gently rested against his shoulder, your breathing deep and even. He smiled softly, careful not to move and disturb you. As the credits began to roll, he glanced at his watch and realized it was getting late. Reluctantly, he decided it was time to leave.
He gently shifted, trying to move without waking you. Before he got up, he couldn’t resist the urge to lean in and press a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment. It was an instinctive gesture, filled with affection that he hadn’t fully acknowledged until now.
Carefully, he adjusted the blanket to ensure you were snug and warm. He stood up quietly, casting one last fond look at you before making his way to the door. Lando left silently, closing the door with a soft click, leaving you to your dreams.
An hour later, Isaac retreated from his bedroom, finding you fast asleep on the couch. Instead of waking you, he went to the kitchen and fetched your evening medicine and a glass of water. Returning to the living room, he placed them gently on the table beside the couch, ensuring they’d be the first things you saw when you woke up.
Isaac stood there for a moment, watching you sleep peacefully. Despite the argument earlier, he understood your desire to live fully, even if it scared him. With a sigh, he retreated back to his room, hoping that you’d find a balance between living your life and taking care of yourself. The quiet house seemed to settle around your sleeping form, a brief moment of peace amidst the whirlwind of emotions and challenges.
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awrkive · 11 months
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[DRABBLE] COLD NIGHTS & BLURRED LINES (m) — JJK.
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you were used to jungkook making the first move every single time but this particular night, you couldn't help but change things up a little bit.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (minors dni pls)
WORD COUNT 4.1k (this is def not a drabble anymore but its like 70% smut anyway saur 🤷🏼‍♀️)
WARNINGS/MISC jk in grey tracksuit 😢 oc is not a procrastinator everybody booed. kinda domestic vibes everyone wants to have what they have including ms delusional me !! this is my literally me fic kinda (this is literally just oc thirsting over jungkook OEBDIDHSJEB) also imagine 3D jungkook guys.... 🙏🏼 smut warnings: oral s*x (m&f receiving, 69 position), penetrative s*x, multiple positions, overst*mulation, creampies, unprotected s*x (dont fls 🙏🏼)
NOTES heyyy so i reread cnbl last night and scrolled thru unanswered messages on my inbox and found these 2 (amongst many IEBDIDHSHD) drabble reqs for cnbl and decided to write it bcs i love and miss them!! unfortunately i lost my ao3 password and i have nowhere to post this so whatever im gonna start posting here again LMFAOOOO. anyway, i hope u guys enjoy this 💗 this is most esp dedicated to the second anon i hate college as well i hope this drabble brings you joy ☺️
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‼️CN&BL FULL FIC CAN BE READ HERE
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You missed who you were thirty minutes ago.
Before Jungkook arrived, you were extremely focused on the essay you've been stalling to get done since last week.
You were set on finishing the paper tonight, determined to submit it a day prior to the deadline – which is two days from now. You've never been a procrastinator and you wouldn't dare start now. But ever since Jungkook called, arriving a little over five minutes after your conversation on the phone and entering your dorm room, you have never been the same. Gone was your will to finish your essay; it yeeted out the window the moment he came in.
It wasn't that he was doing anything wrong, per se. He wasn't pestering you or doing anything to distract you from doing whatever it was you were doing. During the phone call, Jungkook told you he just wanted to hang around and you were in on it. "As long as I finish this essay without you doing anything funny" – that, was what you said. Joking, a little pointed, when he came barging in your door, socks on and hair still slightly wet from the shower he most probably had at his own apartment.
When you said those words, the goof just wiggled his brows, smirking with a look of mischief written all over his face, and then kissed you in such an unnecessarily passionate way that had you internally keening when he broke away. That gave you an initial idea that he would, indeed, do some funny business. If you were honest to yourself, you wouldn't have really minded that at all.
That was thirty minutes ago. Jungkook surprisingly hasn't tried to touch you at all for the past thirty minutes. In the present, he is just sprawled on your bed watching something on your stupid iPad, airpods plugged in both ears, letting you work in peace on your laptop.
Thirty minutes ago, that would've been fine. Because ultimately, you could focus on your essay and finish it then pass it way before the deadline but no, your problem right this moment does not lie on phonology, it lies on why does Jungkook have to lean his back on the headboard, thick eyebrows meeting each other every now and then as he watched his movies, and put that white t-shirt and grey sweatpants on himself?
You've been having an internal battle with yourself trying to fight the urge to look over your shoulders for him every three damn minutes, groaning quietly as you thought about how Jungkook looked so ridiculously hot doing the bare minimum. Literally nothing. He was doing absolutely nothing. And he was making you feel weird in your belly!
Wait. Is it your period? It ended two weeks ago, though, so that is definitely not that. Maybe you are ovulating? You'd have to check your flow app.
Absent-mindedly, you let out the begrudging moan you've been trying to hide.
"God."
As if alarmed, Jungkook suddenly shoots up and speaks after what felt like centuries.
"You okay? Am I bothering you here?" He said, voice dripping with honey and face full of concern. You got even hornier.
Oh my god. You wanted to cry.
You send him a tight-lipped smile. "I'm fine. And uh, no. You're good."
Jungkook doesn't pry further and goes back to his binge. Meanwhile, you force yourself to think of something.
Another long five minutes later, and you are still halfway done with your essay. The unfinished document only seems to taunt you. So, you let out another sigh, quite quiet this time so you don't make Jungkook think he was being an inconvenience. You made up your mind and just decided to give in to your urges.
You shut your laptop down instead of pressing sleep as you are sure there is no way you can do any more work tonight.
Standing up from your seat, you approach Jungkook on your bed.
He looks up at you the moment you hovered over him, taking his eyes off the iPad. When the mattress dips from your weight, Jungkook's lips stretch into a cute smile.
Your horniness dissipates a little over his adorable face.
"Done?" He asks, lifting a hand over your face to tuck a strand of hair away that you didn't even notice. You shake your head. Jungkook leans down to kiss your cheek. "So, tired?"
You scrunch your nose. "Kinda."
He kisses your mouth when a pout forms there.
"Eaten anything yet?" Jungkook scoots over to the side to make room on the bed for you. You fit yourself in the space, albeit tight (this was a dorm room, alright), and Jungkook is quick to slide his arm under your neck while he still holds the iPad on the other.
"Just reheated some leftover pasta from last night." You cringe over your last meal. It didn't taste good at all but you were way too hungry and delivery took forever to your dorm.
Jungkook seems to know that that pasta was shit, but he doesn't comment on that. Just hums and kisses the side of your head.
Ugh.
"Wanna order something in? Thai?" He suggests, looking at you.
But right now, eating Thai or whatever is the last thing on your mind. Though you would like to eat something else.
You tell him so. Except the last part, of course. Please. You have decorum.
"Uhm, no. I think I'll pass on that. Unless you haven't eaten." you say, playfully pointing a finger to his chest.
"Nah, Taehyung cooked dinner. I'm pretty full." Jungkook says, chuckling.
You had a smart remark on your tongue, something along the lines of, "Then why'd you offer to eat if you already have, weirdo" but to be honest with yourself, you already knew why. Jungkook liked seeing you eat. Dude practically buys most of your meals, now that you think about it.
But your still horny-adled brain went to go and tell your hand to search for his bare stomach under his shirt. And so it did. Forget about having decorum, shame is out the door when you press your palm to the flat surface of his stomach.
"Doesn't feel full at all." You commented, feeling the hard ridges of his abs. You hate them right now. But you would also really, really, like to see them.
Jungkook only chuckles at that. Before he can say anything, you ask him, "Hey, quick question."
"Hm?"
"Can I suck your dick?"
"Huh?" Jungkook, ever the man he is, put the iPad away for the first time since he's been here. Confused, but still, you could not have mistaken the look of pure interest in his face the moment you asked him that.
"I want to suck your dick, if you let me." You say, clearing yourself up. You are putting on a brave face, but internally, you are screaming.
So what if this thing between you has been happening for like… ten months now, almost a year? Jungkook was usually the one to always initiate sex and blowjobs were almost a rare occurrence in your sex life because you told him it hurt your knees but the real reason was because you didn't think you were very good at it. Jungkook never asks for it either, and sometimes you feel bad for only reciprocating handjobs during oral sex quickies but! He never says anything about it so maybe that was fine? Anyway, it's not like this is gonna be your first time sucking him. It's just the first time you initiated with your own words.
"Oh, you're serious?" Jungkook scoots over to his side and lays sideways to prop himself up. "Really?" He has an excited smile on, and you know that because of the way his eyes crinkle.
"Don't make me repeat it." You say pointedly, pushing him a little bit. Jungkook doesn't even budge at the slight attack, only holds your hands in his.
"No, I just… I thought you said no fooling around tonight." He says.
You shrug. "Yeah, well."
You don't expect him to tug you closer to him using his hold on you, and you were thankful you managed to suppress a loud squeal when he laid on his back and caught your whole body on top of his.
"I guess you can't resist my charm, after all." Jungkook says, grabbing a handful of your ass.
"Jungkook, please, you're scaring my lady boner off." You roll your eyes as you adjust yourself on top of him to get more comfortable.
"Take care of my gentleman boner then, baby." He counters and just because of that you avoid the kiss he was about to give you.
"Don't ever say gentleman boner ever again." You pinch his nipple and he let out a laugh at your petty retort. You knew he was sensitive there. But even then, you were starting to feel the growing need concealed under his sweats, and you were set on giving him the blowjob of his life tonight for some reason.
"I have a suggestion to make," Jungkook says suddenly, stopping you from crawling down to his body. You arch your brow at him, he continues, "I don't think we've ever tried sixty-nine, yet, haven't we? Because I also really want to eat you out right now."
"Oh, well, yeah…" you nod. You find yourself heating up at the way he casually tells you the last part.
"So…?"
You haven't really tried that either, and not just with him, but also with your other sex partners that only really summed up to less than four people, and that's including Jungkook. Anyway, the sixty-nine position sounded interesting.
"Okay, sure." You shrug.
"Fuck, you're the best."
This time, you give in to the kiss he gives you and pretty much after that it turns into a heavy make-out session with Jungkook fondling your boobs underneath your overused highschool PE shirt while you ground down against his erection that only kept growing harder as seconds passed.
You are panting when you break away, a string of saliva in between your lips, breathing for some air. Jungkook kisses his way down your neck, suckling on your skin and soothing it with his tongue.
"Take your shirt off," you say, already impatiently tugging at the hem of his clothing.
Without a word, Jungkook frees himself from the fabric. "You too, and your panties. Please."
You chuckle at the "please" but nonetheless straddle him to take your shirt off. Jungkook looks up at you with hooded eyes, massaging the bare skin of your waist as you wriggle your hair out of the neckline. He grips your waist as you lift your bum off his stomach, pulling your panties and shorts down in one go one leg to another.
"Shit," Jungkook hissed at the sight of your glistening pussy that has gotten wet overtime, hands roaming all over your body like he doesn't really know where to touch. Always fascinated and in awe with what you show him, always so eager, so touchy. And you always love his undivided attention. Makes you feel like a princess for some reason. Doesn't help that he calls you that sometimes, too.
"Oh, fuuck," he groaned when you sat on his stomach. You couldn't help but let out a quiet moan, too, feeling his hot skin and your cold pussy touching together. "Angel, fuck, come here, let me kiss you."
You lean down to kiss him and he quickly reciprocates, his tongue entering your parted mouth, swirling and licking inside, taking your breath away. You could feel yourself smearing your wet mess on his abs but you couldn't really care less, not when Jungkook looked like he couldn't, too, squeezing every inch of you he could get his hands on. And they were everywhere, alright. Your breasts, your waist, hips, ass, his thumb on the inside of your thighs, all the while kissing you like he was hungry for it.
Jungkook jostles you a little when he lifts himself up a little to slide down the grey sweatpants you have a love and hate relationship with, his dick shooting up his abdomen and touching your ass as a result.
He stops kissing you.
"Alright, one more minute of you grinding against me will make me nut. Sit on my face now, baby."
Blood shoots up your cheeks, making you feel hot. A little funny, given what you are doing right now. But he can't just be so casual about it! He was asking you to sit on his face like he was telling you the grass is green. Regardless, you kiss him one last time.
"Don't suffocate." You warned him, already reversing your position as easily as you can so that your back is facing him.
You hear Jungkook chuckling from behind. "Please, I'll die happily suffocating in this pussy."
"Please don't talk about dying." You deflect, already feeling so shy about the whole thing. Indeed it was your first time to try this position, and you quite didn't know how to act. You wonder if he's done this already in the past, but found yourself irritated at the thought of him doing this with anybody else. You'd have to assess what that feeling of irritation means later.
"Hmm," Jungkook hums, grabbing the globes of your ass and fondling them before you could even properly place your knees on both sides of his head. With his hold on the flesh, he pulls you closer to him until you feel his breath on your core. "Ah, shit, will never get tired of this pussy, baby. Fuck, you're so wet."
You try to focus your attention on his hard dick against his stomach, veiny and rigid, red at the tip and shining with pre-cum. Wrapping your fingers around the base, you lean down a little more so that you can begin teasing him.
But Jungkook beats you down to it as he licks a long stripe across your pussy. It has you keening and stumbling a little over, feeling so good at the contact of his tongue against your sex. You hear him hiss before he says, "Come on, pretty, sit on my face, don't hover."
You hesitate before giving in, and Jungkook is quick to continue the ministrations of his tongue on your pussy. The position was so new to you but you couldn't help but think it was so good, feeling him this way, albeit still a little conscious about cutting off his air supply. But as Jungkook starts licking and sucking, you remember his cock in your hand and it prompts you to stroke him up and down; slow, because your mind is cloudy from the way you could hear the slick of your pussy from Jungkook's licking.
Leaning down, you kiss the head of his cock, licking his pre-cum off the top. There was Jungkook's groan again, and you thought that was a good sign, then continued to suck his tip a little just to see it getting even redder.
Jungkook suddenly gets more aggressive in the ministrations of his tongue, from his slow yet precise strokes, he starts increasing speed, fingers getting tighter on your asscheeks, the tip of his tongue prodding at your entrance giving you a taste of being full.
It prompted you to whimper, Jungkook only humming, seemingly pleased with himself. Letting out a shaky breath, you resume stroking his cock, twisting your fingers around the base. Soon, you lean even closer so that you can wrap your lips around the head.
Jungkook's groan was a pure sinful sound of pleasure as you did so. Nevermind that he was having his own feast on your pussy, you were determined to make him cum. And to do that was to suck on the tip gently at first, swirling your tongue on the cum that's building up on it. You joined the motion of it with your hand stroking the shaft up and down, cheeks hollowed and sucking the air in your mouth to create a suction that has Jungkook slightly jolting in his position.
"Oh, fuck yeah, baby, that's it, you're so good at this… shit," He says behind you, moving his mouth off your pussy and replacing it with two fingers. Jungkook slides them in easily, the squelching sound so apparent it cannot be mistaken for anything else if there was anybody but you two in the room. "You like this, baby? Hm? You're taking my fingers and my cock so well."
You moaned around his cock, heat starting to spread all over your body as Jungkook began to join his digits with his own mouth, devouring your pussy like he always does when he goes down. You start losing your rhythm on his cock, choking on it a third time now as you haven't really managed to fit it all in your mouth. You've always tried to, but he's always been a little too big for you. If it was a skill issue, you didn't care, Jungkook enjoys it just as much as you do.
When Jungkook rubs your clit, that's when you start shaking on your knees, threatening to crumble down.
As if he knew what was coming, Jungkook suddenly says, "Don't come yet, baby, not now." and you swear you would have actually cried.
What you didn't expect is Jungkook suddenly sitting up, his hands gripping your hips so that you don't jostle on top of him. You let go of his dick as he slides you off his body, and you let him manhandle you into sitting on his cock that slides in too easily like your pussy was fine silk. You now sit on top of him in what seems to be like a reverse cowgirl position, except that you aren't the one in control of your own movements.
"Oh, K-kook – Jungkook!" you yelped as he bounced you on his rigid dick, your body melting against his.
"Shh, take my cock, angel. You can do that for me, right? You're so pretty right now, I wish you could see yourself." Jungkook whispers against your hair, and you pathetically nod, craning your neck up at him to seek for his mouth. He smiles at you, the gentle nature of it so contrasting to the way he was controlling your hips, bouncing you in and out of his cock. "My pretty little angel."
He kisses you passionately, and as seconds passed his hands began to travel upwards to cup your breast, fondling it in his hand and pinching your nipple. You also started to initiate your pwn movements, meeting Jungkook's thrusts from below you, all the whole moaning in his mouth at the pleasure of his cock touching every crevice of your pussy.
The feeling of this never gets old even if you've done it exclusively and quite constantly with each other for the past ten months. Sex with Jungkook is always just so intense it always keeps you on your toes.
"K-kook, I'm cumming," you gasped in his mouth, feeling that build up in your belly
"Hm," Jungkook leaves your boob in favor of your pussy. Kissing you one last time on the mouth, he leans against your shoulder to watch as he spreads your nether lips. You look down to his hand there, fingers spreading the lips apart witnessing your own hole getting split open by his engorged cock. The sight was so lewd and obscene you couldn't help your moan. Then, Jungkook begins rubbing your clit again, fast and with a purpose, this time to make you finish. And he finally gives you the green light to do so. "You can cum now, baby."
And as if prompted by his simple words, you came, feeling a gush of wetness coming out of your pussy. You watch the way Jungkook kept his fingers in there, massaging your hole and kissing your neck.
"Jungkook…" you bury your face into the crook of his neck as you come down from your high, pussy throbbing and spasming from the intense feeling of cumming. He did edge you from when he ate you out.
"Good girl."
And again, Jungkook changes your position. From sitting up, you are now laid against the bed again, with him switching your positions so now he's the one hovering and you underneath him. He grabs your hips up and enters your pussy once again, sliding his cock in and out to chase his own orgasm. Your moans only encourage him to go faster, his grunts filling the room.
"Oh, that's it, Kook, you come for me too." You say, reaching for his stomach with one hand and fondling your own boob with other for his own consumption. Jungkook always liked seeing you play with them.
"Yeah, you're so sexy like that," he says, even picking up his speed higher.
Soon, he was cumming with a pained groan, and you didn't expect to cum a second time the same time he did.
Another gush of slickness slides down your pussy while Jungkook pulled out completely. But he was putting it in again a second later, rubbing his dick against your core. You sigh, partly at the sensitivity but also how pleasurable it all still felt even though you've come twice now in the span of almost what? – thirty minutes? Maybe an hour?
"Pretty fucking pussy you've got here, baby," Jungkook says before pushing his cum back into you, making you cry out. "Never gonna get enough of this. Of you."
You whimpered, clinging to his forearms as he continued his actions.
"Cum for me one more time?" He asks, staring deeply into your eyes.
And you couldn't possibly do that. Coming twice was not at all what you envisioned your night to be, thrice was a heart attack. But at the same time, you couldn't really resist his pleading eyes and his deep voice and his still hard cock pushing his creampie deeper into you.
So you nod your head, and Jungkook leans down to swipe the strand of hairs that sprouted all over your face overtime, wet on the hairline from your sweat, just before he slides his cock all the way in again, repeating that in and out routine, the slamming and the bottoming out, the quickening oh his pace and your toes curling once again that impeded your orgasm for the third time that night.
When you finished, exhausted and spent the fuck out, Jungkook laid on your boobs and kissed all over, playing with one of your nipples in his other hand. You were flat on the bed, dead weight, looking up at the ceiling and closing your eyes to cool yourself from what had just happened.
"Okay, that's enough, Kook, we gotta clean up." You say, massaging the soft curls on the top of his head.
He only let out a non-committal hum.
"Jungkook."
"Yes, baby?"
"Enough sex. I'm fried." You say, pulling his hair slightly to make him look up at you. But that was a bad decision of course 'cause he only seemed to enjoy the teasing.
"Just saying hello to these amazing boobs of yours." You rolled your eyes at his retort, nonetheless accepting it.
"Thanks, I guess."
Eventually, Jungkook stopped being clingy and finally found the will to fetch a wet rag from the bathroom. He cleaned you up and and you didn't bother dressing up except the panties you asked him to get for you. Soon after that, you cuddle together in bed.
"Hey," Jungkook suddenly whispers behind you, fingers massaging your hip, mouth press to your head. You hum. "I think we should do that more."
You try to look over your shoulder. "What? The sex?" you say, chuckling.
Jungkook pinches your hip. "Yeah, I told you we should have sex everyday. But that's not the point, I meant the sixty-nine."
"Well, first of all, having sex everyday is physically not possible," you roll your eyes though he couldn't see. "Second, I enjoyed that position, too. A little bit distracting, but definitely really enjoyable."
Jungkook agrees. "I think you just gave me the best blowjob of my life, if you wanna know."
"Really?" you confirmed, smiling up at him.
"Almost nutted when you sucked my head."
You chuckle, slapping his chest and roll your eyes again for how many times now?
"No but seriously…" Jungkook suddenly turns, indeed, serious. But he's still smiling, though, just a little less playful with his tone. "What was with you tonight? Did you finish that essay?"
Oh god, your essay. Right.
You feel your cheeks heat up a little remembering how you were basically thirsting over him him a while ago. And for no reason too.
Despite cringing internally, you shrug. "No, not really, but submission's two days from now and I just wanted to kiss you, I guess."
That made Jungkook's smile even bigger. He doesn't say anything more but only scoots even closer to your neck, kissing your hair.
"Hm, I always wanna kiss you too, and I do. But I love it when you ask for it."
You think you'll start doing it more, too.
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covetyou · 6 months
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egg hunt
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ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: oral sex (m! receiving), balls, questionable use of sex toys, semi-public blowjobs, eggs, Joel is a giant bunny, feelings, misunderstandings leading to angst. word count: 5.9k summary: Catching Joel dressed as a giant rabbit in your backyard wasn't on your bingo card for things to happen to you this year. But, what waits for you beneath the bunny suit, and in his basket, aren't the only surprises you'll have tonight.
A/N: truth be told I find eggs genuinely, criminally funny in every possible way, as well as disgusting, so happy Easter!
These egg things are hilarious, but also not nearly as fun as they seem, though if I'd had the genius idea to stick 'em on some balls I imagine I would've had a much better time tbh.
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You almost don't notice, too busy shoving your cup harshly against the ice dispenser before taking a long, deep, gulp of the cold liquid. But then you see it, and it's not the shock of cold to your esophagus that makes your eyes widen, spluttering icy water before sucking in a desperate breath.
No. It's the ghostly white figure rummaging around in your backyard on all fours.
You duck down just as it stands, holding on tightly to the counter edge with both hands, before crawling to the backdoor to check it's locked, keeping you safely inside away from whatever this thing was. But, just as you reach for the latch, the creature stands on two legs, stretching back with two thick arms on its waist.
The figure is broad, and tall, and... dressed in what appears to be a giant bunny onesie. Even with it's head covered in a white hood, bunny ears flapping as the creature bends and moves, you know what it is. Who it is. You'd recognize those shoulders just about anywhere, and no one else would pull something like this at 9pm on a Sunday.
It had been weeks since you last saw him, but you can't say that was a surprise - what you had wasn't exactly a regular thing, if it could be called a thing at all. That doesn't mean you hadn't been hoping for it, counting down the days to the next holiday in hopes you'd see him again - There was no denying your disappointment St. Patrick's day came and went with no sign of a leprechaun and a pot of gold. Now, he was finally here, dressed head to toe in a bunny suit, doing fuck knows what to your lawn.
"The fucker..."
Unlocking the door, you slink out into the night, sliding it closed behind you before creeping across the yard. This was new, getting to be the one to surprise him. He may have been in your yard, but with each soft step of your foot on the grass it looked like you were finally going to one up him.
But then he turns around, looking toward the house and seemingly straight through you for a moment...
Before his eyes focus on you in the dark, and everything in his hands goes tumbling to the ground as he practically leaps out of his bunny suit.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ."
"We've got to stop meeting like this," you say watching Joel's giant bunny ears flap in the air with his movement as he bends, reaching down to the grass to pick up the basket he dropped.
"You half scared the shit outta me, what're you doin' out here?" he grumbles as he rights himself.
"What are you doing out here? It's my yard. You Bunny Joel this time?" you joke, crossing your arms over your chest in a not-so-smooth attempt to cover yourself. Getting properly dressed had been the last thing on your mind when you stumbled down the stairs, legs still jelly and head still fuzzy from post-orgasm bliss. The only thought that registered was how damn thirsty you were as you tugged a worn, old shirt over your head and made your way to the kitchen. It wasn't cool enough to blame the temperature shift on your quickly puckering nipples, and you didn't feel like explaining where your panties were or why your thighs were simultaneously sticky and slippery. You're just grateful you put on anything at all, and at the very least it was long enough to cover your ass.
Joel smirks, your fruitless attempt at modesty not going unnoticed. "Ain't no regular bunny, darlin'. I'm the Easter Bunny."
"And the difference is...?"
"Eggs."
You laugh, folding yourself over a little as you giggle into the night. The whole get up really is ridiculous enough on its own, yet here you are discussing the nuances of being a giant bunny with a man more fond of playing dress up than anyone else you'd ever met.
"Eggs?"
You spot them as soon as the word leaves your mouth - four colorful eggs sat neatly in his basket, and another nestled into your flowerbed. Only, they don't look like normal eggs at all. Squinting in the dark, the yard lit only by shitty solar lights you'd bought online last summer, you can make out the neat patterns swirled all over them. This was not the handiwork of some enthusiastic child dying eggs for Easter - they looked professionally painted. Joel shakes the basket at you as you continue to squint at it, and you realise not a single one has cracked or broken, even after being dropped on the floor.
"What are they? Egg shaped bouncy balls?"
"Got some balls right here if you're really that interested," he jokes, looking obscene as he waggles his eyebrows at you beneath the hood of the bunny onesie. "Here, they're just these... things. My brother got 'em for me as a joke, it's a long story."
He passes you one of the eggs, the surface smooth and cool in your hand. There's writing on it that you can just about make out, but you still have no clue what you're holding as you turn it around in your palm.
Sensing your confusion, Joel offers a choice gesture, as he explains that they're for "Y'know."
It clicks. Well, sort of. You know for sure then that they're not something you could sneak away for some solo playtime, like with the plug he dutifully left on by your bedside so many weeks ago but maybe, like the contraptions Joel had strapped over his balls your last two encounters, you could enjoy them together.
"Wait, so... you're giving me a thing for anatomy I don't even have?"
"No it's not like that, I just thought - I, well, shit."
"I'm just fuckin' with you, Bunny Joel. Though giving me a gift that's really a gift for yourself is a bit of a dick move."
"Ain't a dick move if you like 'em, sweetheart. And it's Easter Bunny Joel," he corrects with a wink, smiling at you as he drops the basket on the ground to pull at his neck tie. The man looks good in pink, you think, as he fiddles with the floppy satin.
"Y'know, Easter Bunny Joel doesn't quite roll off the tongue."
"Don't it?"
"Nope," you say with a pop, pinching the material of Joel's Bunny onesie to feel the fabric between your finger tips as your roll the egg across the palm of your other hand. "Think you need a better name than that."
"Okay, I'll bite. What you got in mind?"
You're walking your fingers down his chest now, dancing them in a criss-cross pattern across the fastenings at the front of the suit until you reach his hip and slowly you drag the tips of your fingers closer to his crotch until you're cupping his bulge. You wouldn't say he's entirely flaccid, there's certainly something there, but the length of him still feels pliable beneath your hand as you stroke over the front of his costume.
"I was thinking... Flopsy," you say with a squeeze of your palm against his cock, biting back a laugh when you hear him hiss a breath of night air through his teeth.
"Real funny."
"What? If you're committed to the bit, I can be too," and before he can protest you slip the fingers of your free hand between the fastenings on the front of his suit. You can feel his skin underneath, hot and sticky, trapped beneath the synthetic fabric of the bunny costume. At the very least, he's topless under there, and eager to find out more, you quickly yank at the front, grinning devilishly at Joel as the fabric pops open slightly.
"You really wanna be gettin' into this out here?"
"You scared, Flopsy?" you say, with another squeeze to his now much harder cock. "That side is up for sale, and Janet is out of town until Tuesday. No one's seeing anything. Unless you're scared someone might hear something... but I guess you'll just have to keep quiet."
"F- you're gonna be the death of me, darlin'," he mutters, pulling at his pink tie so it hangs loosely around his neck, giving him better movement to look down at your hand where it strokes his cock over the soft plush of the rabbit costume.
You tug again at the suit and with a rapid pop pop pop, the remaining fastenings hiding his chest from you pull open, revealing him to you and... he's a mess. From the neck down he's covered in streaks of paint, multicolored blooms splattered across him, dusting his ribs like a rainbow of bruises.
"Kid had some powder paint stuff - y'know that festival of color thing? Well, kid had some left after a party with a friend from school... had a little fight in the yard earlier before I dropped her back with her mom for the week," he explains quickly, rubbing a hand nervously against his chest and smearing the splattered rainbow there. You make a mental note, adding has a kid to the very short list of confirmed facts you know about Joel. It's not exactly a surprise revelation, all things considered - the costumes had to come from somewhere, and most grown men don't just have fairy wings and toy bows and arrows lying around.
"Well, Flopsy, you make a mighty fine canvas, but I think I might need a hand with this."
The egg you'd been turning in your hand is deposited back into his grasp just as you tug him forward giving him a peck on the chin and you look expectantly up at him. Joel knows he shouldn't pull you toward him and kiss you out here, he thinks he knows that the expectant look is nothing to do with kissing him and everything to do with the egg in his hand, but he does anyway. Slotting his mouth against yours, he pulls you into his chest, the sweat of his skin transfering blotches of paint from his chest to your old shirt. But you don't care, holding yourself tighter to him, pushing your fingers underneath his hood to card them through his hair. Joel groans into your mouth when your fingertips rub at his scalp. You're in half a mind to call him such a good bunny but the air, and the thought, is knocked out of you the next second when he presses a hand against your ass, pulling you further into him so he can grind his hardened length against your lower belly.
It's been far too long since someone held you against them like this, and far too long since Joel had had someone like you in his arms. As he kisses and kisses you, you're starting to feel more and more insane, and maybe you are - maybe accepting this man into your home with such regularity is the mark of insanity, some kind of as-of-yet undiscovered syndrome that's going to be named after you.
Eventually, you muster the strength to pull away, slapping a hand gently to his chest and nodding down to the egg gripped in his fist. You're eager to see it in action, even if you still can't quite picture what it is.
"C'mon, open it for me. Gotta properly thank the Easter Bunny for bringing me Easter eggs."
Joel slips the wrapper of the egg, something you never could've figured out on your own without decent lighting to guide your way, and presses a thumb into the side of it, popping the top off the egg in one smooth movement.
Before he can hand it to you, you slip down to your knees, bare shins resting against the cool, damp grass. It's a beautiful clear night, no trace of the moon in sight just yet, but the glimmer of stars sparkling relentlessly overhead regardless. You hadn't noticed how hot you'd gotten, but being around Joel always seemed to do this to you. Your cheeks felt hot, your heart beat faster, and your head felt slightly dizzy - the result of it emptying itself of all thoughts except the ones that made you make questionable decisions it seemed. Of course, this time the heat wasn't just from proximity, but from that damned fabric of his costume, the synthetic fibers making you feel sweaty as you held onto him. The grass beneath you is a welcome relief against your warm skin, sending the fine hairs on your body prickling at the sensation.
"This how you say thank you to everyone? On your knees?"
"It's how I say thank you to giant bunnies, Joel," you quip back, pressing a kiss to the softness of his belly. You litter a string of kisses down the trail of hair until you reach the boundary of the bunny suit. Whether he's commando or you have another layer to get through, you don't yet know, but you waste no time finding out. With the hook of your finger and a final swift pull, the last fastenings burst open, revealing Joel's heavy length straining against the front of his boxers. Where his tip tents the fabric, a darker patch blooms, turning the gray practically black with precum.
In your dreams, and there had been many of them, it didn't go like this. Dream you rarely went three rounds with themselves before Joel popped up to come fuck her brains out. Dream you was clever. And, as good as your solo session this evening was, you can't help but have a little regret for ruining yourself before the surprise main event. It was like eating a big meal right before someone suggested getting pizza. You could (and damn well would) eat pizza, but you couldn't enjoy it the same way. Pizza or Joel, you were going to savor it as best you could.
"Such a tease, Flopsy," you murmur as you kiss across his covered cock, nuzzling your face into it and watching in glee as his hand grips the opened egg that little bit tighter. Your fingers are pulling again, this time tugging down at his waistband. Joel is in half a mind to rid the egg of its shell and use the damn thing as a stress ball. It had been too long since last time, and since he last came two fucking days ago, to be seeing you on your knees for him in that flimsy t-shirt. It felt like a gift from the heavens and divine retribution wrapped up in one you shaped package.
As you pull his cock from the confines of his boxers, feeling the deep pulse of the blood in his veins as you wrap your fingers around him, you can't believe your luck at getting to see it in the flesh again. As brilliantly as your mind can concoct the image of it, the reality of it is so much better than any fantasy. Before you let yourself get lost in it, you reach for Joel's hand, grabbing the egg back from him and watching the top fall to the ground and roll across your lawn.
"It stretches. Goes over and you just - uh - stroke with it I guess."
The inside is far from what you expected. You almost find it gross, the translucent white interior far squishier than you expected that it'd be bordering on slimey if it was wet too. Joel laughs down at you, seeing your face as you try to work out what the fuck you're holding, pulling it free from the rest of the shell and seeing a hole stuffed with a plastic tube. You can see what he means now, and you let a soft oh fall from your lips as you tug the tube filled with a sachet of lube from the middle of the toy. You feel inside, running your fingers over soft ridges, and you can only imagine how nice it must feel sliding wetly up and down a cock and, not for the first time in your life, you wish you could experience it yourself. But, the next best thing is right in front of you, and that'll have to do.
"These feel good?" you ask, his eyes turning glassy as you examine the inside of the stroker while your hand still tugs slowly up and down his cock.
Joel sighs deeply, nodding down at you, the obscene bunny ears still flopping on his head with each movement. "S'good. Nothin' like the real deal but, yeah. Feel nice."
Gripping Joel's cock in your fist, you begin to stroke gently up and down, sliding his foreskin back and forth until he's steely hard beneath your palm. The solar lights are starting to dim, their charge from the day already running out, but you can still see the dusky red tip, and the blue of the vein that runs down his shaft. You squish the toy in your other hand, the temptation to taste too strong to just leave all the fun to the squishy silicone. So, you press a delicate kiss right to the tip.
"Oh fuck," Joel hisses.
"Missed it," you confess on your knees with another kiss.
"Yeah? Well, s'all yours." Mine.
"Really? Your bunny wife not going to chase me out of my own yard?"
"Know damn well I ain't got a wife, I ain't the cheatin' kind, darlin', don't you worry."
And that admission alone sends your aching cunt throbbing between your legs, wishing even more desperately now that you weren't completely wrecked and oversensitive from your ill-timed playtime upstairs.
"Good," is all you say before taking his head in your mouth with a swirl of your tongue, a satisfied moan vibrating against his tip as you taste him properly for the first time in 4 months. "I've been thinking about doing this."
"Yeah? Been thinking about sucking my cock?"
"Mhm."
"Shit."
A simple continuous swirl of your tongue and small bob of your head was apparently enough to have him gripping his hands into tight fists, clearly fighting some internal demons to keep himself from coming so soon. Your mind absolutely fizzes with it, that this man wants you, likes what you do to him so much that you can have such an affect on him. And when you suck lightly, his head tips back so far the hood slides back off his head. All you can see is the underside of his jaw from where you look up from your knees, and when looks back down at you with heavy eyes, he looks the most normal you've ever seen him. He's not Santa, nor Cupid, and the costume that had rendered him Bunny Joel just a second ago instead drapes around him like nothing more than a soft, white coat.
"Thought about you tasting you," you mutter between mouthing at his cock, slicking his entire length with your saliva. "Having you come in my mouth. On my face."
Joel groans again, much louder this time and you can't help but laugh, mouth pressed to his balls, at his feeble attempt at silence. You press the tip of your finger, egg still clutched in your fist, to his dribbling slit, and drag a tooth grazing kiss across his sensitive ball skin as you silence him with a whisper.
"Shh, Flopsy. You don't want us to get caught."
"Fuckin' Flopsy, I should -"
But you don't hear what he should do, because you engulf his tip with your mouth once again and Joel finds himself speechless as you immediately slide your lips further down his slicked length with ease. You work him in your mouth, sucking him as you move up and down. He can't stop moaning, he doesn't even try. He should, he thinks. You deserve better than getting caught in your backyard doing something like this, but all he can think about each time you move your tongue just like that is how fucking good your mouth feels.
He feels like he's going to come. Your hand is massaging gently over his balls, your mouth working his cock to a near frenzy, and he is absolutely, one hundred percent sure he's going to come. You know he's almost there. If the groaning wasn't enough, the tightening in his balls and the twitching of his cock were a clear sign he was about to blow.
Then you stop.
Just like that, your mouth is gone. Your hands too. And he's having to force himself to look down at you where you stare in awe at the stroker in your hands, glistening with lube you'd poured into it as he bit his lip and fought off coming, untouched, into the breeze.
You want to use it on him, to listen to him groan as you stroke him with the soft silicone, and watch his every move as you work him over the edge. And his cock, as if calling to you like some kind of siren of the sea, beckons you in, accepting an offering of one last kiss before you raise the stroker.
"It's so stretchy," you gasp, as you slide the toy over the tip of Joel's cock. You can pull it almost all the way down the length of him. You make a few experimental twists and jerks, before settling into a slow rhythm, teasing him just as you'd teased yourself and dragged out your own orgasm upstairs.
It's interesting. Slipperier than your own hand, easier than your own mouth, but not quite the same as either. You can't feel him like this, and you certainly can't taste him.
"Do you like it?" you ask, and Joel doesn't quite know what to answer. He does like it - he likes having your hands on him any way he can get it, but he can't feel you in the same way like this. And it's definitely not as good as your mouth, or any other hole of yours he's fucked.
There's just enough light to see his face give a noncommittal twitch and you're peeling the toy off of him, sucking his tip back into your mouth quickly, moaning as the taste of him hits your tongue.
"Good, because I prefer it like this too."
"Fuck, yeah."
Now though, you have a lubed up, saggy egg in your hand and nowhere to put it. Until an absolutely inspired idea hits you square in the face and you're grinning with Joel's cock in your mouth.
He barely sees the fiendish look in your eye, just notices as you pull off him again, and he could scream. Then, something smooth and cold coats his balls. Your fingers are cradling him delicately, thumb and forefinger stretching open the toy until with a gentle wiggle, his balls are encased in the squishy silicone. And holy fuck, is it like nothing he's ever felt.
"Don't think that's how you use it, darlin'. But, shit, it's good," he gasps as you gently massage his balls through the toy. It's like having a soft cool mouth encasing his entire ballsack, while your actual mouth kisses delicately all over his cock. "C'mon now, stop your teasin', gotta come in the pretty fuckin' mouth."
He's back in your mouth before he even finishes his sentence, your mouth sounding wet an obscene as you work him up and up and up all over again. You draw him in deeper, his cock meeting the back of your throat, over and over, his hand coming to cup your face and delicately wipe away a tear from your watering eyes. Fuck, you're wishing more than ever that you could just jump on him, that your cunt wasn't wrecked, or that it didn't matter, that you could go infinite rounds and still want to be touched again and again. But that wasn't you. You had a limit and, even though you'd reached it, the want in you didn't go away and neither did the slick feeling between your legs or the deep throb of your pulse beating away in your clit.
Joel's fingers grip tighter on the side of your face, a soft thrust of his hips meeting every movement of your head. Catching his eye almost kills you then and there with his cock wedged at the back of your throat. He looks as wrecked as you feel, dark eyes shining down like black holes from space now that the light from your solar lamps has all but fucked off. The paint and rabbit ears almost fade away into the background as you hold yourself down on his cock, making yourself whine around him. You're starting to think if you sucked his cock for long enough you could make yourself come totally untouched, but you don't want to think about it. You can't.
He takes over then. Each slip of your lips down his cock met with a gentle hold, until you both do it all over again. It's easier to hold for longer each time, almost feeling deeper with each slide of his cock across your tongue, the taste of his precum making you salivate as much as having your mouth filled and occupied is.
Then, he presses you down, holding your head as you moan and whine and try desperately to swallow around him, to take more of him as he only seems to get harder.
"Not so Flopsy now, huh?" he asks, releasing you and pushing your head down on his cock once more.
He's fucking into your mouth now, small shallow thrusts hitting the back of your throat, your hand working the toy slickly across his balls as he moans more desperately than you've ever heard him moan before. Despite your teasing and edging, he's the one holding back now, the feel of your mouth on his cock, your nails scratching at his belly, and that damned toy sliding across his balls far too much for him to want to let go of any time soon.
But fuck is he close, and if he's not careful he's going to ruin it for himself by holding back and exploding without warning. He's waited too long for that to happen.
"I'm gonna -"
"Mhm!" you groan around his dick, nodding as much as you can with it in your mouth. You steady your hand against his waist, taking over all movement as he stills the slow gyration of his hips, bobbing your head faster as you suck him down. The swirl and flick of your tongue is positively relentless, and everything feels so wet and warm and fucking perfect that he knows he's a goner.
"Hn-uhhhhh, fuck. Ah, fuck, don't stop, don't stop, fuck, ugh!"
He bursts, salty in your mouth, filling your throat as you swallow around him, massaging and gripping his heavy balls as they twitch in your palm through the thick silicone.
You're only a bit of a mess when you pull off of him. Your lips are swollen and tingly, your hand slippery with lube, but you are totally, utterly content. The slick feeling between your legs is still there, so is the throb, but you're as satisfied as you could possibly be.
Pulling yourself to your feet is another story. Your legs have gone a bit numb from sitting on your knees for so long, and you stumble as you fight to right yourself, Joel catching you just before you tumble into the flowerbed. You laugh in his arms, his mouth pressed to yours as he swallows the sound, consumes it, wills it to make home in his body so he never forgets it.
Joel's fingers work their way under your thin shirt. He'd been looking between your face and your nipples the entire time you were on your knees for him, and he suspects you're entirely naked under there. When his fingers meet your sticky thighs, he thinks he's hit the jackpot, and is ready to return the favor through the haze of his own orgasm, when you stop him.
"I, uh... sorted myself out not too long ago. A few times."
"Damn, if I'd known I woulda come right up and helped you out myself. Thought you were sleepin', house was dark. Jus' playing with this sweet thing all along, huh?"
If he had known, he would have known how much you thought about him as you fucked yourself on your fingers. He would have known how you used the plug he left on your bedside table more than any of the others, crying his name out into the lonely expanse of your bedroom as you came quicker, and harder, than you had any right to. If he had known, he'd know how well and truly fucked you were over a man you still knew practically nothing about.
Of course, you knew some physical things. You knew what he looked like naked, how broad he was, and how sweaty he got when he fucked you. You knew what he sounded like groaning into your mouth or laughing at a silly quip you'd thrown at him. You knew what he tasted like, and what you tasted like off of his tongue. But that was where your knowledge of him ended. You didn't know what he did for work, or if he even liked his job. You didn't know his favorite food or color. You didn't know what he sang in the car. You didn't know where he lived or what he drove - you didn't even know his full name, and you knew exactly why.
You were scared. Terrified, actually. Terrified to really get to know him, to break that blissful illusion of the tall, dark stranger who rocked your world on a seasonal basis, only to find you didn't like him at all. Or worse - that he didn't like you.
So, when you walk him through your house, egg disposed of and hands washed, listening to the soft snap of his suit being closed up around his bare body, you desperately try to ignore the longing ache in your chest, stopping any request for him to stay, to take you out for coffee in the morning before it stupidly tumbles out of your mouth. That's not what this is.
Instead, you wordlessly reach for your keys, smiling sweetly to him as if you hadn't just been waging war against yourself inside your head.
"What're you doing," he says, pointing to the keys held in your hand. "Goin' somewhere, or comin' home with me?"
"No, smart ass, this is a key, it locks doors. Just gonna lock up after you leave."
Joel's smile drops from his face. And you don't know why, but it has alarm bells immediately blaring in your head.
"What?" you ask nervously, eyes darting around his face as if you're trying to read his mind as he takes a slow step toward you, a frown slowly pulling his brow down as he pieces some mystery together.
"The door locks when it closes, then you the take the key and lock it again after?"
"... Maybe? Yes?"
"Wait. And you're tellin' me you do that every night."
"Yes, I lock my door every night Joel, what's wrong with that." Obviously your lock was no match for his lock picking skills, but you didn't consider that Joel perhaps didn't know how locks worked at all.
"What's wrong with that is you're unlocking your door every night and leaving it unlocked all night."
Your blood turns cold. You don't know why. You could just not believe him, or test for yourself, but something about his reaction, and his seemingly easy ability to get into your house, tells you that what he says is exactly right. It's your turn for your smile to drop, and you can feel it slip off your face just as your heart starts rapidly hopping in your chest.
"Oh. I - I thought..."
"It ain't that kind of lock, sweetheart. You never checked it after lockin' it?"
"No. No I - My last place, the lock, I had to - oh my god." There's dread now. A sickening cocktail of feelings swirling through your body, turning you red hot and cold over and over as you think of all the things that could've happened, how lucky you were they didn't, after all this time. Damn near a year, and you hadn't figured out how to properly work your own fucking door.
"How d'you think I been gettin' in? Didn't exactly climb down the chimney or fly in through the window the last two times. Maybe shouldn'ta done it that first time, but your tree was driving me mad, seein' it bare like that every time I drove past. You weren't in and the door was open, was only gonna be quick and then..."
You're not listening. Your heart has just stopped like it's been hurtled into a brick wall at 100mph. "Wait, you drive past my house?"
"Where else am I gonna fuckin' drive?!"
A thousand million volts straight to your chest, and your heart is beating again, racing, your voice raising with it, brandishing the pointy end of your key at him like it could save you now. "Have you been stalking me?"
"What? No! I live down the fuckin' street, I drive by to get to my house, I thought you knew that."
"Down the street?"
"Yes. I'm hardly gonna come from outta town just to fix your lights and your sink and fuck off again. I was just... bein' neighborly, I guess."
"You've been in my house fixing my shit without me here?"
It's just revelation after revelation. You can't believe it. You can't believe yourself for one, but you can't believe him either. Only you can. You very much believe him, and you hate that you do and you hate that, deep down, you know he's right and you're exactly the kind of idiot he's undoubtedly thinking you are.
"You ain't fuckin' noticed?! You had a light out in here, your kitchen faucet was drippin', your railin' in your hall closet was bust... you didn't notice anythin'? Are you even fuckin' in that pretty head o' yours?"
Suddenly you're feeling very stupid. The door is one thing, the minor home repairs another, but you'd been under the impression you were both on the same page this entire time. That it was some silly game you played, two strangers who had next to no clue about each other. All this time he knew who you were, but you were too fucking preoccupied and distracted and stupid to see that he was right there.
The heat in your checks crackles in your ears, misting over your eyes and making your entire body feel fuzzy. That fight or flight you'd been wondering about for the last few months has suddenly decided to make an appearance, settling on both as you fight back tears with a quivering lip.
"Get out." It's silent fury, building white hot as the seconds tick by with him standing, staring at you like you're the one dressed as a giant rabbit and not him.
"What? Darlin', c'mon, it's okay -"
"Get. Out." You wrench the door open, pushing him and his stupid fucking bunny costume out, shoving the basket of eggs into his arms once he crosses the doorway.
"Bye." You slam the door, the stupid fucking self locking door, and slide down it, head in your hands. You have never felt so fucking stupid.
next part
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nadvs · 2 months
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why do i see cheerleader reader having daddy issues, so when she tells rafe she’s pregnant, she’s so emotional and scared about how he’s gonna react and if he’s gonna break up with her or something
it tracks 🥺 she always expects to be disappointed by men and it’s not just because every guy she’s dated before rafe has treated her badly…
based on this fic
when she moves in with rafe after she finishes her post-grad internship, she’s still on the pill. one day, she’s complaining about the side effects of it as she’s making herself lunch and her boyfriend says, “then stop taking it.”
she looks at him from across the kitchen.
“we’d have to use protection,” she says. “every time.”
“sure. but is it so bad if…?”
she’s shocked. they’ve been together for about two years now and they’ve never talked about kids past a mention of it’d be nice to be parents some day.
“if i get pregnant?” she says.
“yeah.”
“isn’t that fast?”
“not for me. is it fast for you?”
she shrugs. maybe it’s not so crazy. they have their future set. a child would be a nice addition. they haven’t talked about marriage, but she’s in no rush. they don’t have to be married to have a baby.
“if we both want it… i guess if it happens, it happens,” she mumbles. “but our lives would change really, really drastically.”
“i know,” rafe says comfortingly.
she continues to make herself food and he stares at her, imagining her with a baby bump and that bump turning into a little human who’s a mix of him and the person he loves most.
he knows she’d be a great mom. and he’s always wanted to be a dad. he’s always wanted to undo how his own father had raised him, making his only son have to struggle for his fleeting approval.
three months later, she misses her period. she doesn’t tell rafe. she picks up a pregnancy test. she doesn’t tell him that, either. when she sees the double lines on the test, she’s standing in the middle of their bathroom, her body trembling.
and she hates that she doesn’t feel excited. she’s scared. she thought she wanted this. she hoped for a positive. but this isn’t the feeling she thought she’d have.
she goes through the motions of ordering a custom newborn basketball jersey with cameron stitched on the back, having dreamed of telling rafe that they’re expecting that way.
a couple of days later, it comes in the mail. she has actually sort of liked keeping the secret while she waited because it meant she could pretend it wasn’t real yet.
she does what she thinks she should do. she puts the tiny shirt in a bag, sets up her phone to record, and calls him over to tell him something came for him. this is what a woman who’s excited to tell him would do, she tells herself.
at first, when rafe opens the bag, he doesn’t say anything. his jaw goes slack, he blinks a bunch of times, and then he pulls her in for a tight hug.
she’s already shaking, tears in her eyes, when she hears him sniffle. he pulls back. his hands are firm on her cheeks, gazing at her through glossy blue eyes.
“you’re happy?” she whispers.
“yeah,” he responds, saying it like it’s obvious. “we wanted this, right?”
rafe stills for a moment when he sees just how anguished she looks. she doesn’t seem happy at all.
“right?” he repeats.
“yeah,” she says, nodding and looking down. “i don’t know. it’s weird. maybe it’s the hormones already.”
“how long have you known? do you feel okay?”
“just a couple days,” she says. “i’m tired. a little nauseous. but he hasn’t made me throw up yet.”
“he?”
she meets her boyfriend’s eyes.
“i know it’s too soon to tell,” she says, “but i really hope it’s a boy. you’ll feel more connected to a boy.”
he can tell by the way she’s stuttering and crying that something’s wrong.
“baby,” he mumbles. “i’ll feel connected no matter what. it’s my kid.”
she shudders, nodding through her sobs.
“what’s up?” rafe says softly. “do you… are you regretting it?”
“no,” she replies, “but are you sure you want this?”
“yes. we talked about it,” he reminds her. “it’s not like this was an accident.”
“yeah,” she mumbles, looking down at her lap again.
rafe stares at her, slightly shaking his head in disbelief. she’s acting like this was unexpected. like she’s wishing they never started trying.
“what is it?” he says. “if you don’t want this, then just tell me.”
she curls up, slouching as she dips her head into her hands, the tears coming harder now.
“if it gets hard…” she whimpers, her voice muffled. “you can’t leave me to do it on my own. you can’t.”
he’s floored. they haven’t mentioned anything about the possibility of things not working out with them in ages. and back when they did, it was almost always rafe needing reassurance that she wasn’t planning on leaving him.
“i would never do that,” he says. “look at me.” his fingers wrap around her wrists, pulling her hands down from her face.
“where’s this coming from?” rafe mumbles. “did i do something?”
he thinks back to the past few days, trying to remember if he said something even in passing that would make her worry about him abandoning his girl and their baby.
the look in his eyes almost looks like betrayal. like he can’t believe she’s saying this.
she swallows hard, coming to terms with what’s been swimming in her head for days now. her father was absent. the only example she had of a dad was one who never really acted like he wanted a kid at all.
“i don’t know what it looks like,” she begins, “when a man actually wants to be a dad. maybe you’re excited now, but what if when it gets hard? when he’s crying or sick or keeping us awake?”
“we’ll deal with it,” he says. he pushes past his own ache to try to understand her.
his cups her hands in his, searching her face with concerned eyes. he remembers her opening up to him long ago about how she always wondered if her dad would have loved her more if she was a son instead of a daughter.
“when he or she is giving us hell, we’ll deal with it,” he says. “i love them already. there’s nothing that’ll change that.”
he puts a hand on her stomach, rubbing gently. she finally cracks a smile, softly laughing. his chest loses its tightness when he sees her look happy for the first time since he got home.
“i was reading that it’s the size of a pomegranate seed right now,” she says.
he smiles in awe, kissing her wet cheek.
“what’s next?” he asks. “what appointments do we make? what should you be eating?”
she laughs again. rafe has always been so intense, so focused on the next step.
“let me catch my breath first,” she teases. she looks over, just now remembering she filmed all this.
“my bad, baby,” he laughs. “breathe. this’ll be good, alright?”
“alright,” she says. and she believes it.
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seokgyuu · 9 months
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growing up with heeseung, jay and sunghoon you never once imagined them being anything more to you than your childhood best friends - and to some extent you're correct: they remain your gross boy best friends up until college, when suddenly things start to feel different. with all of them.
✧ heeseung x fem!reader, jay x fem!reader, sunghoon x fem!reader ✧
✧ childhood friends to lovers, fake dating trope, college setting, story begins in childhood and leads us through all the important phases ✧
✧ this work contains: intended lowercase, poor tries at comedy, simp!hee, simp!hoon & simp!jay as well as very oblivious reader, jake as the first ever boyfriend, hanni, chaewon and beomgyu have a cameo ✧
✧ warnings! mentions of bullying, smut (MDNI), more to be added if needed. ✧
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hi! for my very first enha fic I have decided to open a taglist! You can join it by sending me an ask, so that I can keep track.
taglist: open
current word count: 4k
estimated word count: 15-20k
posting date: tba
taglist: @kgneptun, @deobitifull, @lovelickies, @tinie03, @moon4moony, @sousydive, @jebetwo, @haechology, @wooziswife, @havetaeminforbreakfast, @vannabanana1995, @nctislifue , @wiley199, @lovgfrd, @heegyuwrld, @caravm, @adoredbyjay, @notevenheretbh1
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teaser
the principal's office could really use an interior designer, you think. or just a whole renovation at this point. the ceiling is showing signs of leakage, there is paint peeling off the walls behind the desk. and the desk itself, jeez, principal higgs should have gotten rid of it ages ago, you keep telling him!
“how many visits will that be for the week?” he doesn’t even look up from whatever he was writing as he says this. you shift on your seat and look to your left where jay is tapping his fingers on the armrest of the uncomfortable chair and heeseung next to him is just staring at the principal’s receding hairline. meanwhile sunghoon to your right is silently plotting your death.
since none of the boys speak up, you clear your throat.
“the fourth, sir,” you say with a smile you think is charming but it actually isn’t. principal higgs sighs and puts his pen down as well as his glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose.
“thank you, miss y/l/n,” he replies, “and how many more times are you planning to sit in these horribly uncomfortable chairs this week?”
“none, sir,” you continue, the smile still playing on your lips. the older man behind the desk closes his eyes for a second.
“you say that every time and yet here we are again. so, what did you do this time? did you accidentally fall and hit mr. park in the face again?” he looks at jay, who rolls his eyes at the reminder, “well, he doesn’t look like he got a black eye. so, what is it?” 
when even you don’t respond, avoiding the principals eyes as he opens them again and the boys are all hopeless cases anyways, mr. higgs takes a deep breath and puts his glasses back on. 
“fine. let’s see,” he pulls on the stack of papers he has gotten from his secretary and looks at it with his lips pursed. all four of you shift on your seats now.
“alright then. mr. lee, as it seems you… put several worms in mr. sim’s locker?” higgs eyebrow pierces up and heeseung coughs. 
“and mr. park, jay, you… sabotaged mr. sim’s chair so that he fell on to his backside and then told him to “go suck it”?” jay snorts, still tapping against the armchair and not looking at the principal. higgs takes a deep breath.
“mr. park, sunghoon,… you held out your leg for mr. sim to fall over… almost twenty-three times in one day.” 
sunghoon has to concentrate not to look too proud of himself.
“and finally, miss y/l/n. you yelled at mr. sim in front of your whole class, saying, and i quote “you’re a stupid asshat anyways, i hope you trip and break your butt, you ugly little worm”.” 
you smile innocently. 
“you also kicked him in the shins, as a grand ending gesture, as mrs. james was kind enough to write down for me.” 
he puts the notebook down and looks at the four of you.
“come on you guys, i know you like to play harmless pranks on teachers. like to make one joke too many in class. but this? if mr. sim’s parents hear about this, and they will, there could be consequences that even i can’t hold back.”
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swanimagines · 1 month
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Teen Wolf: Imagine being Derek’s sister and him finding out that you’re secretly dating Stiles.
requested by anon
Note: nowadays all requests are done straight to asks, this is my old template of posting and I no longer have their asks!
Note 2: A reminder again that in all my newer fics where reader is someone's sibling/child or some other relative, they're always adopted, not related by blood!
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When you first met Scott and Stiles, you wouldn’t have believed that one day, you’d end up falling in love with the latter. Your first meeting hadn’t been… good, if you were honest. You saw them as a threat, as did your brother, so your first words to Stiles had been “stay out of this, human”.
Seeing where that meeting brought you now had been completely unexpected. Stiles had somehow gotten enchanted by you, and you soon realised he had a crush on you — despite you having been so harsh at him when he had tried to defend Scott.
And more surprises were coming. Him fumbling and being awkward, at the loss of words before you, you found it cute. Cute. A human, you found a human cute.
You tried to hide it, how you were warming up for him. How he got you to smile, how you started to enjoy his company. It wasn’t logical, it was foolish. And especially when Derek hated Stiles, you having feelings for the boy just didn’t fit the picture.
But, your feelings just wouldn’t go away, no matter how much you tried to suppress them, and eventually you just had to blurt them out to him. He just stood there stunned, looking at you for a moment before he started grinning like he had just won in a lottery. And you knew that he kind of had, he had had the biggest crush on you for a long time and now you told him you felt the same way.
But you still needed to keep it hidden from your brother, in fact Scott and the Sheriff were the only ones who knew. You snuck out almost every day after school to hang out with Stiles and there you were at a park, in the shadow of an old oak, heads pressed together and holding hands.
This was one of those days. You two were sitting in the park, beside a pond full of ducks. Stiles had brought a bag of seeds with him, and you fed the ducks together. You were quieter than usual, and Stiles nudged you.
“What are you thinking about?” he mumbled, handing you a few seeds.
“I think Derek is suspecting something,” you replied, glancing over your shoulder. “I can’t help but think that he’s been watching us, he acts so weird. I don’t know what he will do if he finds out about us.”
You threw the seeds to the ducks, making them swarm at your feet. Stiles sighed, looking up for a moment. You knew he wanted to mutter “creep” but you appreciated he didn’t. You took his hand. “I’m not leaving you, in case you’re afraid of that. Even if Derek will try to lock me up.”
Stiles nodded, squeezing your hand back. “I know.”
You sat there for a moment longer, until the seeds ran out and Stiles shook the bag towards the quacking ducks, before throwing it into the trashcan and leaving the park with you. You walked in silence for a moment, before Stiles turned to you. “Wanna come watch a movie? Your brother can’t follow us there, Dad has too many security cameras for that.”
You scoffed. “As if that’d keep him away. But you’re right about it being safer there. He might not want to come in and risk your dad seeing him threatening you.”
He took the jeep keys from his pocket and fumbled with them for a moment. “So… you’re coming?”
You nodded, taking his arm. “Yeah, I’d like to have a good laugh with a comedy before going home.”
As the credits rolled, you realised how late it had gotten. The clock had struck midnight a while ago, and you could almost picture Derek tapping his foot impatiently like the Rabbit from Winnie the Pooh. So you reluctantly retreated from Stiles’s warm embrace, stretching out before looking at him. “I should go.”
He sighed, absentmindedly running his thumb across your hand. “Yeah, you probably should.”
You stood up from the couch, swinging your bag over your shoulder, letting Stiles walk you to the door. Once you reached the porch, he leaned against the door frame and you looked at him, biting your lip. “Thanks for tonight,” you mumbled. “I had fun.”
Stiles nodded. “Me too.”
You thought for a moment, but then decided to take the leap — you stepped closer to him. “I think a proper good night wish could be better than just saying it.”
Stiles’s cheeks turned slightly red, and he stuttered slightly. “O-oh?”
“Yeah.”
And then, with one last breath, you gently grasped the collar of his hoodie and pressed your lips to his.
It wasn’t a deep, passionate kiss you see in movies, it was rather short, in between a peck and a proper kiss. But still, when you stepped back, Stiles grinned like he had won the lottery all over again, and you couldn’t help but giggle a little. “Goodnight, Stiles.”
He blinked, straightening up. “Goodnight.”
Then you turned, walking into the night with the biggest grin on your face. The night was chilly, but you felt like your heart was jumping around so much that it almost overheated you. Not that you minded, you were happier than in a long time, and almost felt like skipping through the forest.
Crack.
You stopped dead in your tracks, looking around. “Derek?”
Sure enough, he stepped out from the darkness, and you froze. “I… I was just on my way home.”
He scoffed, crossing his arms. “Don’t lie. I saw what happened.”
You cocked your head, trying to act clueless. “Saw what happen?”
He raised his eyebrows. “The kiss. I saw you kissed him. Didn’t you just tell me there’s nothing going on with him?”
You tried to play stupid and test the waters, laughing. “Nice try. You haven’t been near me today, I haven’t smelled you.”
He shook his head, sighing. “Which is exactly why I’m concerned. You’re losing your focus. What if the Hunters will get you because you’re too busy staring at Stiles’s eyes?”
You kept walking, pushing past him. “You’re overreacting. It was just a kiss.”
He turned around, starting to walk with you. “Just a kiss, and numerous secret dates after school for weeks, or is it months now?”
You groaned, figuring it’s no use to keep pretending. “Alright! We have… something going on with him. But it’s still early, and I’m not abandoning the pack because of him if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
“He can’t protect you. The Hunters will use him against you,” Derek said quietly. “You could die because of him.”
“His pack—”
He interrupted you, “He doesn’t have a pack, he’s not one of us. Even if he pretends to belong in Scott’s pack, he isn’t, and will never be, one of them.”
You sighed. You knew he was mostly right. Stiles, being a human, could easily be used against you. He hadn’t learned about everything yet, nor Scott had in that matter. You had tried to guide them, to help, but so far it was going slowly. And you knew that each day, the risks grew. You understood your brother, you had gone through the exact same feelings, wondering and pondering and pacing around your room, before finally concluding you weren’t able to keep it inside you. You had brought up all your worries to Stiles once you decided to tell him about your feelings, and he assured you that Scott would help if any problems came up. You still had doubts, but chose to push them aside for the sake of living. You had done what you could, telling him and Scott about the risks and Stiles still wanted to see what would become of you two.
You stopped, looking up for a moment. “I know it’s dangerous, Derek. But what do you expect me to do? Ignore my feelings, end my relationship? It wouldn’t be fair for me, even less for him. He signed up for this, because he wants to be with me.”
Derek stopped as well, stepping in front of you. He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not asking you to ignore how you feel, but you need to be smart about this. Think about how many times we watched our friends get hurt because they got too close?”
“We’re not children, we can look after ourselves just fine,” you groaned.
He raised his eyebrows. “Can you? Because to me, it looks like one of you will be dead soon, and—.”
You shook your head, raising your hands up. “Stop.”
You stood there in silence for a long while, before Derek crossed his arms again. “You’re not letting this go, are you?”
You huffed. “No. I can only promise to come to you for help if I need any.”
He thought for a moment, and pursed his lips. “Alright. But don’t expect me to like it, or him.”
You smiled a little. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Derek.”
He didn’t say anything, just turned, and you followed him home. Maybe things between Stiles and Derek would be alright in the end after all.
Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)
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bucksdoll · 8 months
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watching porn with sarah and eventually scissoring!!!! nsfw pls!! 💗💗💕💓💓💕💖💖💓💖💕
𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱
sarah cameron x fem! reader imagine
trigger warnings : NSFW (minors dni), friends to lovers, sarah is inexperienced with women, scissoring, implied reader is a top but they’re holding back quite a bit, dirty talk, pre existing/hidden feelings, watching porn, reader using the nickname ‘sare’ for sarah
summary : after a particularly hot day outside, you and sarah are buzzing from the heat. you seek shelter in sarah’s room, cooling down in the air conditioning. you head to grab her laptop when she expresses her boredom, and you’re beyond suprised when you see what it’s open to.
authors note : heyy, thank you for being my first ever post rq, it means a lot. i wasn’t sure what trope you wanted, so i went with bsf to lovers bc i felt like it fit. i hope that’s okay :). this was supposed to just be an imagine, but it kinda ended up being a little longer than i anticipated. please feel free to leave more rqs ppl ! i love doing them. this was BRIEFLY read over. might be a lot of mistakes, and this is also my first time writing a fic. pls b patient w me.
english is not my first language, forgive me.
bow dividers by gigittamic.
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it was so hot in obx today, that it almost felt like your body was quite literally set on fire. it was the weekend, and you of course went to tanneyhill to hang out with sarah. you and sarah were inseparable. you practically lived with her at tanneyhill. you hung out around the cameron’s so often that you’d become quite close with just about every member of the family. youd help wheezy with homework, you’d playfully chastise rafe and his friends when they came over, you’d helped rose with little things here and there, hell even ward had begun to see you as a daughter. you were always welcomed in the house, whether sarah was there or not. you would be invited to family events, kook centered parties, on family vacations, everything.
if somebody asked, you’d call sarah your best friend. she’s probably call you that too. but deep down, you didn’t know what you two were. the circumstances in which you met weren’t completely platonic. you’d spotted her while at a random kook party, dressed in a bikini top and light blue ripped shorts. she was dancing with some of what you assumed to be her other friends. the music was loud and booming, and she swayed her hips, her eyes glossed over, seemingly having had a few drinks. you too, having had a few drinks, had the confidence to saunter over to her. you were dressed in a simple bikini and a backwards hat, your hair still a little damp from the dip you’d taken earlier.
you bumped a few shoulders to get through the dancing crowd of people, finally reaching her, laying a manicured hand on her shoulder. she continued moving just as she was before, hips swaying silkily, just simply turning her body to face yours. she bit her lip, smiling brightly at you, still blissfully lost in the music.
“hey pretty.” you say over the music, resting both your hands on her shoulders. you decided on a neutral move, so you could read if she was into you or not.
“hi beautiful.” she replied, finally meeting your eyes, slipping one of her hands to rest lazily on your waist, still swaying.
you started to move along with her, using your left arm around her shoulder to scoot her a little closer to you. she happily obliged, now gently fidgeting with the string of your bikini. you bit your lip, eyes never leaving hers. the way she was swaying her hips was driving you insane, and you subconsciously pulled her even closer.
she still went along with it, taking it upon herself to get as close as she could. she leaned her head on your shoulder, her hot breath on your kneck. you bit your lip so hard you’re suprised it didn’t start to bleed, and you trailed your arm from her shoulder to her ass, which you could now see swaying as she leaned against you. you gave it a light squeeze, as much as her tight denim would allow. you two continued dancing, for what felt like forever. but much to your dismay, despite a few risky touches and a few kneck kisses, nothing lead anywhere that night. she eventually had to leave the party, and she batted her eyelashes at you as you exchanged contacts.
and that’s how it always has been with sarah. you two flirt pretty frequently, and occasionally get a little handsy, but you’ve never done anything about it. she’s gone through boyfriend after boyfriend, and you’ve gone through a few relationships yourself, but after a year or so of trying, you never found relief, and ultimately stopped dating a while ago. you never tried anything with sarah, relishing in the teasing touches too much to want to risk ruining the friendship by asking her out. she was currently with her boyfriend topper, and had been for about 6 months now. she seemed happy, and seeing her happy in a relationship made you all the more sure you didn’t want to ruin it.
“hey y/n, can we pleaseee go inside. i know i begged you to come out here with me to tan but this heat is sooo much worse than i thought it was.” she whined, looking over her shoulder to face you, a big pout on her lips.
“i told you it was too hot out here sare.” you look at her sympathetically, her pout always being your weakness.
“i knowww, but i thought you were just making excuses so we could stay in bed all day.” she rolled her eyes a little, her pout still evident minus the little smile that creeped at the corner of her mouth. you rolled your eyes back, having already given in and started grabbing your few items you brought outside.
“alrighttt, go on. i’ll grab your stuff for you and meet you inside.” you smiled at her, heading her direction. she sprung up at your response, rushing over to you and wrapping her arms around your neck.
“thanks babes. you’re the best.” she left a kiss on your cheek before running towards the doors of tanneyhill.
that’s how it always was with sarah. she’d do things that would be seemingly innocent, calling you babes, giving you cheek kisses, playfully swatting your ass.. things that if you two were just girl best friends, it would seem normal. but it always felt so different with her. but as always, you brushed the thoughts away, grabbing her things and following her inside.
when you made it in, she was no where to be found. you assumed she’d grabbed a drink and rushed up to relax in her room, which was thankfully air conditioned. you set your things down on the kitchen counter, and padded your way up the stairs to find her.
you found her just where you expected, lazily sprawled out on her bed, still in her strapless bikini set from when she was tanning.
“i’m so bored.” she groaned, lazily turning her head to face you when she heard you come in, not having enough energy to move the rest of her body.
“what should we do? come up with something.” she added, her attitude leaking through her words a little, seemingly crabby from the heat.
“i dunno. what do you normally do when youre bored?” you replied, your brain seemingly empty. normally you two always had something fun planned, or little random things to do. but both of you seemed to be spacing for once. she shrugged, and you sat on the edge of her bed.
you saw her laptop open on her desk, so you wandered over to grab it, thinking of putting on a movie or something until you came up with something better to do. but when you touched the mousepad to wake up the laptop, you were suprised to see what it was opened up to.
“jesus christ sare-“
“what?” she groaned, seemingly unalarmed until her eyes met the screen. her eyes widened, and she sprung up off the bed with a sudden burst of new found energy. but hearing her pounding feet, you swiftly picked up the laptop and held it high above your head.
“y/n put that down right now i’m serious!” she whined frustratingly, grappling at your arms and shoulders, trying to get you to put it down. you wanted to tease her though, even if it was just a little. you assumed it wouldn’t lead anywhere. nothing ever did between you two.
“you’re watching lesbian porn?? god if i had known i could’ve set you up with some links, you know im good for that stuff-“
“y/n put it down, okay? i was just-“ she continued to hop on her feet, standing her her toes, desperate to reach the laptop. “-curious!” she groaned, not giving up in her pursuit to steal the device from your grasp.
“curious, huh? that’s cute.” you grinned teasingly at her, and her eyes flickered to yours a few times as she persisted, her little hops and outstretched arms making you bite your lip to hold back a laugh.
after a few more minutes of struggle, the heat exhaustion seemingly flooded over her again and she let up, now standing flat on her feet infront of you. her arms were crossed, a heavy blush tinted not only her cheeks but most of her face. her eye brows were taught tight together in frustration.
“i just wanted to look at it. maybe learn a little- i-i don’t know, okay?? i don’t know why i was watching it.” she babbled, seemingly genuinely a little hurt and embarrassed, her eyes welling slightly. your heart stung a little.
“hey, hey, eeeasy. i was just messing with you sare. you’re okay.” you lowered the laptop, closing it and holding it against your side, using your free hand to cradle her cheek. ready to catch any tears that threatened to fall.
“you know if you ever had any questions you could come to me, right? i don’t know what kind of experience you have, but i’m and open book. i can help you, if you want.” you leaned down a little, forcing her to meet your eyes after hers had drifted away.
“you’d do that?” she mumbled, leaning into your hand a little.
“of course i would. only if you want to-“
“i want to.” she cut you off, meeting your eyes with a reassuring nod of her head. you felt your composure that you’d kept for so long start to slip, and you were beyond greatful nobody else was in tanneyhill that day.
she grabbed your hand and tugged you back over to her bed. you set her laptop down, opening it back up to the tab she had open. you two sat next to eachother, the silence not uncomfortable but terribly thick with tension.
“can-can we just watch some first? i don’t know really what i want to learn yet off the top of my head i just was watching-“
“yes. yes, of course sarah. whatever you want.” you cut her off this time, reassuring her, then pushing play on the porn. it was some random short clip. probably 2 minutes long, seemingly off of twitter or something. it was two girls, evidently scissoring. you let the video play for a couple seconds before reaching to scrub through it, seeing it was literally just a clip of two girls scissoring for multiple minutes straight.
“do you have any other clips of what you want to learn..? because this is just scissoring, sarah.” you couldn’t help but crack a smile, finding a little funny how blissfully innocent about this stuff.
you turned to look at her to see her eyes already boaring into yours, pupils blown wide. her head was tucked down a little, and her hands fidgeted in her lap, clearly trying to get a message acrossed without saying it.
“you just wanna learn how to do that, hm?” you cocked a brow at her, and smiled a little more when she nodded her head.
“you sure this is okay?” you said, resting your hand on her folded legs, slowly creeping it upwards. she gave you a small nod again.
“words, sare.” you creeped a little higher.
“yes, fuck- please, y/n.”
with that you felt your last bit of composure slip. you gently pushed her back against the bed, her head resting against the pillows. you tugged at the button on her shorts, looking up at her to see her give you another nod, quickly adding a muffled ‘yes’ after it. you tugged her shorts down, throwing them off to the side somewhere. you watched her face closely as you gently rubbed over her clothed clit. you knew sarah had been touched before, she’d talked about her experiences with exes, but you still wanted to be as gentle and slow with her as possible, as it was her first time with a woman.
“can i kiss you? please?” she said while wrapping her arms around your kneck. it broke you out of the trance you didn’t realize you had fallen under, staring at her clothed pussy. you looked back up to her, your own eyebrows furrowing with a smile.
“of course baby.” she was the one to lean up to meet your lips, her kisses quickly going from gentle to rushed and sloppy. she was clearly getting ancy as she ground her hips up into your hand, and you pulled aside her bikini to slip your fingers through her folds. she was completely soaked, a wet patch having already soaked through her bikini bottoms prior to you actually touching her.
she moaned at the relief of you finally touching her, breaking away from the kiss for a second. her mouth hung open, and she looked to where your hand met her.
“please, oh god- please- more, something- please” she ranted, still grinding up into you.
“easssy sweetheart, i want you to feel my fingers first-“
“no- please just fucking do the thing already.” she said, clearly still a little shy about the subject. she avoided your gaze, still relishing on your finger tips which circled heavenly around her clit.
“are you sure?” you clarified, slowing your hand to make sure you got a straight answer. frankly she was already soaked, you could scissor, but you figured she’d want to be warmed up first. you really wanted to take things slow with her, but you couldn’t deny the way her eagerness made you all the more aware of how soaked you were in your own panties.
“yes. yes, yes, yes, please y/n.” she begged, literally whining and begging at your disposal. her brows were taught with frustration, and her hips continued to eagerly sway against your hand.
“okay, okay.” you laughed a little, finally tugging off your own garments. a shiver ran down your spine when you unclasped your braw, you were unable to tell if it was the breeze from the air conditioner or the way she instantly reached for your chest. she massaged them in her hands, slightly more out of pure admiration at first, but then switching to teasing your nipples.
“fuck sarah-“ you groaned as you finally pulled your final piece of clothing off, your panties.
“i know it’s going to sound pretty fucking stupid but.. i’ve always wanted to touch your tits.” she grimaced a little as the words came out her mouth, sounding like a teenager. the two of you giggled for a second before she looked at you expectantly.
“are you-“
“yes, im positive. ive never been more sure.” she smiled up at you, her classic sarah glow finally peaking through, most if not all of her embarrassment having washed away.
you pulled away, settling yourself between her legs, getting into position. she reluctantly let go of your chest, and let you move her as you needed to. when you finally had situated yourself, you propped her left leg over your shoulder, giving her thigh a reassuring squeeze.
before you could instruct her, she ground up against you. what was supposed to be, on her part, just a grind of being impatient, she felt her clit rock perfectly up against yours.
“h-holy shit was that it?”
“mhm, you got it baby. keep goin, you got it.” you barely got the words out, clenching your jaw extremely hard at the sudden touch. she continued, easily setting a pace, you let her figure it out for a moment before finally grinding back into her, the two of you in unison. she let out a gasp which quickly turned into a moan.
“oh fu-fuuuck..” she tensed her eyebrows together.
“y/n?” she glanced back and forth from your face and where the two of you met, and her fists reached up to firmly grab the pillow behind her. you met her eyes, ready to stop, instantly assuming she was having second thoughts.
“yea sare? we can stop-“
“i swear to fucking god y/n do not stop.” she groaned the words out inbetween moans.
“i was just going to say-“ she stopped in between words, clearly struggling “im really really not going to last much longer.” she shot you an apologetic smile, before blabbering a few ‘it’s so good’ s, ‘don’t stop’ s, and ‘holy shit’ s under her breath.
“oh yea? s’it feel good baby? god you don’t know how long i’ve wanted to do this.” you ranted too, letting out a few groans of your own.
“oh fuckfuckfuck y/n- babe im-“
“let go sarah, i’ve got you baby. you’re doing so good.” she grinded desperately, her hips getting sloppy, the two of you now at totally different paces, yours being a steady fast rhythm and her being ragged and sharp. you could see your collective juices start to leak onto your stomach and your thighs with how random and miscalculated her thrusts were becoming, practically grinding against any part of you she could. her many short and high pitched whimpers, only egged you on further.
you watched as her orgasm finally hit her, her moans and whines coming to a climax, loud and overwhelming. her whole body shook, her stomach tensing and her arms loosing their grip on her pillow as she threw her head back. you could see her juices seeping out of her as you continued to grind on her, riding out her high and still chasing your own. it was when her sighs of relief turned into overstimulated whimpers that you too were finally thrown over the edge, your orgasm practically blinding you.
you fell back onto your elbows, collecting yourself for a moment before untangling your limbs and crawling up against her pillows, right next to her. she still breathed heavily, turning over to tuck herself into your armpit and throw an arm lazily over your mid drift. her hair was a mess, and you could see some of her mascara had smudged under her eyes. she looked so blissfully stunning.
“that was fucking awesome.” she said, cracking her classic sarah smile and letting out a little laugh, leaning on your chest to look up at you.
“yea, it was.” you smiled back at her, letting out a little laugh of your own to cover up the thoughts that were racing through your mind.
you had so many questions. where did we go from here? what about topper? will we ever be able to come back from this?
but as she tucked herself back into your armpit, seemingly overthrown by exhaustion, you didn’t dare ask. you were fine, and happy, in this moment.
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joelscruff · 2 years
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one thing i'm missing (joel miller/reader) PART ONE
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hi there ! i'm new to the tlou fandom but not new to fic, and watching the show over the past few months inspired me to return to fic writing. the idea for this has been milling around in my head for a good chunk of time now and i finally felt ready to put pen to paper and get this thing started. i've already posted this to ao3 if you prefer that medium, but i'll also be posting it here now. let me know what you think!
summary: you and joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming. rating: 18+ explicit (this part is not explicit but this fic will be) warnings: (for future parts) smut, age difference (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 50s), praise kink - will add more as fic progresses word count: about 2.6k
You don't, under absolutely any circumstances, talk about it.
It started about a month ago, after all the shit that happened with that monster, David. After Ellie had decided she wanted to start sleeping alone.
It hadn't really been a conscious decision on her part, but you'd noticed that first night how she'd distanced herself from you and Joel when it was time to sleep. She'd curled up against the far wall of the basement with barely a word, shutting herself off entirely while you'd tended to Joel's injury. Prior to this – ever since Joel was stabbed – Ellie had started sleeping at his side, head on his chest, listening to his heart and hoping against all hope that it kept beating. You'd slept a few feet away, hoping desperately for the same thing.
After David, she avoided physical contact entirely. You and Joel wordlessly understood, though you could tell it alarmed and concerned him. Though he'd been in and out of consciousness for the past few weeks you know he'd become accustomed to having her at his side, curled into him with that familiar daughterly affection he'd been missing for twenty years. Seeing her ultimately decide that she no longer wanted that closeness, probably feared it, distressed him greatly.
“Fuckin' bastard,” Joel had murmured to himself that first night as you cleaned his wound – you'd learned what to do from watching Ellie, “I'll fucking kill him.”
“Shhh,” you'd hushed him, keeping your voice low in case Ellie was still awake, “He's dead and gone, she took care of it.”
“Shouldn't have had to,” he'd hissed, “Fuckin' bastard.”
He'd slept poorly. You knew because every so often you'd hear him mutter something else to himself about David between short fits of sleep. You didn't sleep much either, partly because in the wake of Ellie's sudden distance it was now your job to monitor Joel's wound, but also because you felt the same way Joel did. The thought of that monster... what he'd done to Ellie and what he'd tried to do... you'd never felt so much disdain and hatred for one person in your life. Every time you closed your eyes all you could see was the look on her blood-spattered face when you'd both found her, the way she'd barely been able to speak... you could only imagine how much worse the images behind Ellie's eyelids were.
So she slept alone now, which meant Joel slept alone.
For a little while, that is.
-
After a few days of short spurts of travel and staying in more abandoned houses (Joel wasn't well enough to walk much, though he tried to deny it, much to the frustration of you and Ellie) you'd set up camp on the outskirts of a small community. Ellie hadn't talked much and Joel hadn't been fully in his right mind since you left that first house, so the decision-making had fallen to you for the time being. Truthfully, you were done with the mouldy mattresses and hard concrete of those suburban basements, the smell of rotting food and being bothered by mice and cockroaches while you tried – and failed – to fall asleep. Neither Joel nor Ellie argued when you suggested setting up a campsite in the woods for a change of scenery.
The snow had melted quite a bit and there hadn't been anything fresh in almost a week, the temperature rising rapidly the further you walked. The idea of sleeping underneath the stars again with fresh air in your lungs and the sound of the wind blowing through the trees was enough to keep you going that day. That night, you'd watched as Joel made a fire with the materials you'd collected, Ellie already bundled up inside her sleeping bag a few meters away.
“Hey, you sure you're not gonna be cold over there?” you'd called to her gently, already knowing the answer.
“I'm good,” she'd replied, sounding earnest enough, “If I get cold I'll move.”
You'd sighed quietly, turning back toward the fire. Joel was blowing lightly on some kindling, eyebrows furrowed in thought. You used this rare moment of him being distracted to analyze his face; the dark circles beneath his eyes had been growing more prominent over the past few days, and he'd gotten into the unconscious habit of blinking very slowly, like he was always just a few seconds from sleep. You'd never seen him look this exhausted.
“You need to sleep,” you'd murmured, and his eyes had snapped up to meet yours instantly, “I'm serious, Joel, you look...”
“I'm fine.”
“You don't look fine,” you shifted your eyesight to the fire, lifting your hands to warm your palms, “You look like you haven't slept in days, which you literally haven't, by the way.”
“I've slept,” he'd grunted, turning his attention back to the fire as well.
“Yeah, for maybe twenty minutes at a time.”
“Well, maybe if I wasn't bein' woken up every twenty minutes by you checking if I'm still breathin',” his voice was hard and cold, but you were used to it.
“Don't be dramatic,” you'd snapped back, “I check you maybe twice a night now, if even that. Sorry for wanting to make sure you're okay.” The last few words had come out shakier than you'd intended.
He'd inhaled deeply, and you could see him looking at you again in your peripheral vision, “You're right, I'm sorry. I'm being an asshole. As usual.”
“You're not an asshole,” you'd muttered, “you're tired. And so am I.”
You'd sat together in silence for a few moments before Joel had reached behind him for his pack, digging out the blanket he'd started using in lieu of his old sleeping bag. He'd decided to leave that behind; it was what you and Ellie had used to get him back to that first house, the one Callus had dragged across the icy terrain with a bloodied and near-death Joel as its only occupant. He'd pissed himself in it, which he'd attributed as the main reason for leaving it. But you knew the truth: he'd spent too long wrapped up inside of it during that period of time to ever get a good night's sleep from it again. It needed to be put out of its misery.
Both you and Ellie had offered to give him your own but he refused every time, repeatedly stating that the blanket Ellie had found was warm enough, if not even warmer than the sleeping bag had been. You honestly didn't know if he was telling the truth, but he gave you no choice but to believe him.
“You take first watch, then.” he said quietly, “We're out in the open again, gonna have to stay alert.”
“Got it,” you were a bit embarrassed by your brief moment of vulnerability, but you'd quickly busied yourself with picking up the rifle to hold it in your lap.
You'd watched as he spread out the blanket on the ground, carefully kneeling down and wincing at the pull of his stitches. He laid down on the edge of it, then reached over and pulled the other side over his body like a makeshift sleeping bag. Sighing contentedly, he'd closed his eyes.
Despite how much older than you he was, the word adorable couldn't help but cross your mind.
“Goodnight,” he mumbled quietly to you, and you'd forced yourself to look down at the rifle so he wouldn't catch you staring.
“Night, Joel.”
-
You'd quickly learned that Joel's new blanket was in fact not warmer than his sleeping bag. After a few hours of keeping watch, you decided to check on both Ellie and Joel to make sure they were doing alright. Ellie was fast asleep and didn't look to be shivering or experiencing a bad night's sleep; she actually looked more peaceful than you'd seen her for a long time. You'd smiled fondly, fighting back the urge to push her hair out of her eyes; she'd made things very clear and you weren't going to overstep.
You wandered over to Joel and the contrast between he and Ellie was staggering; there was no peace here. He was wide awake, shivering ferociously and hunched in on himself with his hands cupped around his mouth as he blew on them for warmth.
“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you'd immediately dropped the rifle and leaned down to him, “why the fuck didn't you tell me you were freezing?”
It actually wasn't a very cold night, but the combination of Joel's thin blanket, his injury, and the fact that he was overwhelmingly exhausted were just making everything ten times worse. He also hadn't slept outside for weeks. You immediately began to regret the decision to camp tonight.
“Hold on,” you'd said quickly, scrambling back up to grab your own sleeping bag. You unzipped it so it was wide, then draped it over Joel's shivering form, “I'm gonna give you some body heat, okay? Don't make it weird.” You'd only said the last part because you knew he would protest.
You'd crawled underneath both layers of material and without any hesitation wrapped your arms around Joel, ignoring his shaky mutterings of “I'm okay” and “you don't need to”. He'd surrendered very quickly, relaxing into your embrace as you ran your hands up and down his arms at the fastest pace you could muster. You alternated between his arms and hands, taking them in yours and rubbing your palms against them like you were trying to start a fire, huffing hot breath against his skin. Beneath the blanket, you entwined your legs with his, pulling his socked feet against your ankles and trapping them there to warm them up.
It only took a few moments for the heavy shakes to stop and for Joel's breath to even out again. Despite this, you stayed where you were and kept doing what you could to keep his temperature stable. As he warmed up, he began to feel more like himself; he was no longer a cold statue but the warm and solid man you'd come to recognize, and you were hyper-aware of the fact that despite spending so much time with each other you'd never actually been this close to him. His arms, strong and steady beneath his coat, the same arms that carried around that heavy pack all day, the arms that cradled the rifle, they now laid loose and tender under your touch. His hands, calloused and rough around the edges but soft at the palms, the same hands that set the fire still burning a few feet away, the hands that once held his daughter and had learned to hold Ellie's – and now yours, feeling like in some way they belonged there.
You'd known you felt something for Joel, but you'd never realized how strong and real that something was until it was literally in your embrace.
Without speaking you'd laid your head on his chest, closing your eyes and doing your damnedest to fight back the sudden tears that were threatening to well up. Holy shit, was all you could think, a warmth you'd never felt in your entire life radiating in your chest and somehow extending toward him. Holy fucking shit. It was like time had stopped and all you could feel was him.
You'd looked up at his face, needing to see if he felt it too, felt you the way you felt him, but your eyes widened slightly when you saw that his were closed, mouth slightly agape. There it was, that peace you'd seen on Ellie's face, now transferred to Joel's. For a brief second you felt panic, but it was immediately interrupted by the light snore that emitted from his open mouth. He'd fallen asleep.
And a few moments later, so had you.
-
That was the first night you'd slept solid without waking up even once. Not just since Joel had been stabbed, but since the pandemic had started to begin with. You can't recall ever having such a peaceful, dreamless, absolutely soul-refreshing sleep. And neither had Joel; when you woke the next morning he was still fast asleep in your embrace, that peaceful expression still sculpted on his face like he was a living Michelangelo. In the night you'd only gotten closer to him, legs still entwined and head still on his chest. The only difference was that your arms had obviously stopped their rapid movements to keep him warm, and they'd ended up snaked around his torso, the palm of your left hand laying flat against the hot skin of his waist, just above where his stitches were.
Maybe you should have pulled away when you realized, gotten up and pretended it didn't happen. The thought did cross your mind, but then Joel had shuffled a bit in his sleep and you'd become aware of the fact that his arms were around you, hand pressed flush against your bare back underneath your jacket and shirt, holding you to him. And that was enough to make you stay.
About fifteen minutes later, he'd woken up.
He didn't flinch or yank himself away when he realized the position you were in. He'd blinked slowly at you, and you'd peered up at him just as quietly. His lips had parted and then closed again, as if he was going to say something but then thought better of it. Instead, he just kept staring at you, and you started to feel his hand on your back slowly and tenderly stroke the skin there. In return, you gently brushed your thumb against the bare skin of his waist. It was a moment that felt like it went on forever, both of you touching those small intimate parts of each other without saying so much as one word.
You felt butterflies in your belly when the hint of a smile twitched at his mouth, and you smiled back, sleepy and soft. You never wanted to leave this small piece of existence. You just wanted him to keep looking at you like that, his gaze holding yours with an expression you could only describe as contentedness. You'd never seen him look so relaxed; the dark circles had faded and even the lines on his face had receded into his skin. He looked younger, healthier, like all the bad things that had happened to him had vanished in one good sleep.
“Uggghhhh,” Ellie moaned a few meters away, and both your heads snapped in her direction. She was sitting up in her sleeping bag, back facing you. You could see her arms stretching above her head as she began her typical morning wake-up routine: stretch, groan, flop, repeat.
Without saying anything you'd both untangled yourselves simultaneously before she could see the sleeping arrangement you'd found yourselves in. The loss of warmth and familiarity was palpable as you quickly stood up and grabbed the rifle, walking over to the now completely burnt out fire. Joel silently folded up his blanket and your sleeping bag behind you, then muttered something about needing to look for more shit to burn.
That's how it started.
And you don't, under absolutely any circumstances, talk about it.
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spdrvyn · 1 year
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full stomachs, fuller hearts — MIGUEL O'HARA
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SUMMARY: miguel has gotten used to eating dinner by himself so you decide to change his nightly routine.
THIS FIC CONTAINS: literally nothing but pure unaldulterated fluff. gender neutral terms mostly but querido is used once.
NOTES: OKAY so this was actually a request for someone but i was a dumbass and accidentally POSTED the draft when i meant to save it for later, i panicked and deleted the post so now i lost the request from my inbox forever 💔 whoever that dude was i hope you find this and i hope you enjoy
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Lonely dinners were always a common occurence for Miguel.
That was just how things are. After a long and drawn out day of protecting the multiverse, protecting the city, protecting everything that he's built up and coming home to a desolate penthouse.
It was the norm for him, he had grown accustomed to it. Being isolated in general wasn't a foreign concept to him, but you brought more change to his life that he thought he would hate.
He loves you a lot. You two had been in a committed relationship for a few months now but haven't moved in yet. The every few hours during a day that you would get to visit him or perhaps he could swing by to your apartment were the only times he felt some sense of warmth in his cold, silent life.
It's not like he didn't want to ask you to move in, he does. Oh, so badly. It's just that the constant fear that he's going too fast or getting too excited over this newfound love. He doesn't want to scare you away.
There was also just a small part of him that was getting too used to being around you. It's gone to the fact that whenever he ate dinner, he'd always imagine you on the other side of that table, laughing and sharing stories about how you're day went.
When he snapped out of it, the sight of the empty chair across him brought his spirits down even more.
You were aware of this too.
Which was why you were up at the wee hours of the night, trying to watch an online video recipe for making empanadas. You knew how to cook enough meals to get by but you wanted to try something different for Miguel.
The bar was set a little bit higher this time. You've been over at Miguel's place before and he has cooked for you and every single time you've tried his dishes they were utterly delectable.
You didn't only want to make all of this food for him just because he's constantly eating alone but because he's really expanded your tastebuds ever since you two developed a much more intimate relationship. You could at least owe him one homecooked dinner.
Reminders to yourself, thank Lyla for letting you in and don't blow up Miguel's penthouse.
As you followed the tutorial step-by-step, you couldn't help but let your mind wander a little further. You wondered how Miguel was doing right now.
Yes, he's strong and agile in an almost inhuman way but at the same time you still worried for him. If only he could be here right now, you'd love to have the opportunity to cook with him.
He was grateful that you weren't in the present moment with him right now, his stomach growl in anticipation for it's next meal as he was running and swinging from rooftop to rooftop to get back to his penthouse.
There were many obstacles that he encountered on the way back. The classic old lady getting her purse snatched which gave him severe déjà vu, a bank robbery, and a cat stuck in a tree.
He grew progressively exhausted with each stop, not forgetting that he had his actual duties at the headquarters that he just left from. Sore muscles and a throbbing head, a painful combo for Miguel.
Maybe he should just skip dinner altogether and opt to immediately pass out on his bed, showering in the morning and having a very heavy breakfast. Yeah, that would work...
He glares into the window of his penthouse, not because he was hesitant to make the jump but because the lights were open. He was sure that he left all of his rooms in complete darkness before leaving.
With one final jump, his claws dig into the edge of his window as he pulls himself up. His eyes narrow, in attempts of getting a good peek of what exactly was going on.
An intruder, a home invasion, Lyla having a party without telling him were all of his possible theories.
What he didn't expect was to see you setting up his plate on his kitchen island, plates of delicious smelling food prepared as well.
There was an intrusion, that's for sure. The intrusion of blush on his cheeks, which he quickly had to shake as he took his mask off.
However, as quickly as it disappeared, it came back once he saw the look on your face the moment you noticed his presence.
Pure glee and warmth is how he'd describe it. It's also how he'd describe the embrace that you immediately pull him into, throwing the silverware that you were readying.
It's not like he hesitated to touch you either, he wrapped his arms around you. So glad that he gets to bask in your existence again, bask in you.
"What's all this, querido?"
You separate from Miguel for a brief moment before walking over to the kitchen counter, proudly showing off your creations. "Empanadas and menudo!"
It was like stars clouded Miguel's vision as it all goes through his mind. You came to his house, fixed up a whole meal for him, and for what? He doesn't remember getting you any gifts recently.
So why?
"Are you just going to stare or are you going to try one?" chuckled you, at least it got Miguel to snap out of his daze. His hands reaches out to one of the empanadas and he takes a bite.
Okay, if he was being honest, he's tasted much better before.
But you put so much thought, so much time, and so much care into making this for him. All of those qualities overshadowed the taste and dryness of it, filling his stomach with something else entirely.
This was probably one of the best empanadas he's ever tasted.
"It's really good." He says, swallowing the last of his food, "Best that one I've ever tasted, mi cielo." Then leaning in to press a small kiss to your forehead, warm hand cupping your cheek.
"You're just saying that, Miguel. I tasted them before you got here and they're really dry."
"Still the best I've ever tasted."
He continues to plant kisses on you, trailing from your forehead to the bridge of your nose to your cheek then boarding at your lips, you giggle into the kiss but before it progresses any further, he stops and pulls away.
"Do you want to move in with me?"
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request rules here, masterlist here
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pkg4mumtown · 1 month
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Medicine at Midnight
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+ only)
Summary: A night out with Hotch and his team leads to either the best or worst mistake you could have made.
Content Warnings: smut 18+, alcohol, GN!reader (no Y/N), friends with benefits, strong language, first person POV
A/N: My entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Criminal Minds Friends with Benefits Challenge. It also happens to be the first CM fic I’ll be posting but certainly not the last! I’m currently working on a multi-chapter Hotch x Male!Reader fic, so stay tuned. I’ve also added the playlist I used for Hotch inspiration at the end of the post.
Also available on AO3
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I barely managed to enter my apartment and drop my gear to the floor when the shrill ringtone of my cellphone broke the otherwise pleasant silence.
Fuck. Me.
I plead to whoever is listening that it’s not my section chief calling about a case. I ripped the cellphone from my pocket, too frustrated to even look at the caller ID as I snapped out my last name.
“Rough night?” came the deep, soothing voice on the other end.
Oh.
“Hey, Aaron,” I sighed and relaxed. “Sorry, I thought it was another case.”
“It’s okay. Are you busy?” He asked and I could hear the slightest hint of hope in his voice.
“Depends on what you’re going to ask me and...what I’ll get in return,” I stressed. “I just got home.”
“I can promise free drinks,” he chuckled, the vibrations buzzing through to my end of the phone. “The team is going out and Dave just went out of town.”
Hotch doesn't need to say more than that for me to understand what he’s asking. He wants a social buffer and for free drinks I’ll do just about anything for him.
~
His team had helped the DC Field Office with a case that I oversaw about six months back. The case had quickly spiraled out of control with multiple unsubs, and I begged my chief to let us call the BAU in for help. While they didn’t swoop in and solve the case in a matter of days, they certainly got it back to a manageable position. What would have taken months of work was quickly cut down to two weeks.
Since it was still relatively local, Hotch’s team would go home every night and come back bright and early. One of the first nights with them on the case, I waved them goodnight; standing like I would be leaving shortly after them. As they disappeared out of sight, I sat back down and stayed firmly planted at my desk. I was still flipping through files over the umpteenth coffee of the day when soft footsteps stopped in front of my desk.
“You’re still here?”
Hotchner.
“Yea, I’m just...” I gestured vaguely to the files. “I don’t really know what I’m looking for anymore. Just hoping I can find something.” I gave him a tight smile as he hovered by my desk. His bag was nowhere in sight, so it was clear he had no plans to leave either.
The grim smile on his face confirmed that he was doing exactly the same.
“I’m sure he's waiting for you at home,” he nodded to the picture on my desk as I went back to looking at the files in front of me.
“That’s my cousin,” I stated without having to look. “No one’s waiting for me, I promise you that. Plus, you don’t seem like you’re leaving either, so...”
“Got me there,” Hotch smirked, shifting his weight nervously as I paid half-attention to him. “I won’t snitch if you won’t? My son is with his aunt, so my apartment is a little depressing.”
At that confession, I looked back up at him as his expression turned crestfallen.
“Deal. You can pull up a chair, if you want.” I suggested, seeing that the floor was pretty much empty now and it seemed cruel to make him sit by himself wherever we were able to stuff his team on the cluttered floor.
This went on for the next two weeks that the BAU worked with us and each night the ice broke a little more. That extra hour or two after the team left progressed from talking about the case to talking about ourselves. It was surprisingly easy considering his personality on a case, but once his defenses came down, he was more relaxed and even threw in a smile that I began to notice was quite rare.
I began noticing his nearly imperceptible antics when he was stressed. His tight expression would feign focus but his white-knuckled grip on whatever was in his hand told a different story. I caught myself pressing a finger to his tight fist throughout the day, making him aware of what he was doing before removing my fingers as soon as his fist loosened. At some point, he stopped straining his hand muscles, but I’d feel his finger pressing firmly against one of mine whenever he was near me. It was usually brief, just enough to feel the ridges on each other’s fingers before his touch was gone.
After the case was over, I never expected to hear from him. Hotch’s number stayed saved in my phone from the case, but never once did I expect to see it flash across my screen while driving home one night. Drinks became a nearly weekly occurrence between the two of us—provided neither of us were on a case—and while nothing more ever happened, I couldn't tell what his endgame was. We chatted about the weeks we both had, family, sorrows—all of it—all the while our hands pressed against each other just to feel another person.
I chalked it up to anxiety for him and loneliness for myself.
~
Despite our nights out together, we never went out with his team, and I hadn't seen them since the case all those months ago. So, it was a little unnerving to accept his invitation. How would he explain us being on friendly terms now despite not knowing each other prior to the case? Would they even care? Does it even matter?
“Uh, sure. Where at? I just need to change,” I answered him.
“I’ll pick you up in twenty?” he asked, and I shouldn’t have been surprised at his need to drive by now.
Control freak.
“Okay.”
“See you soon.”
I changed into something more comfortable, but not too comfortable. I didn’t want to look like I wanted to stay home curled on my couch.
Even if that sounded heavenly right now. Hotch could come, too.
When Aaron sent a text to tell me he was here, I was out the door in a few seconds. The inside of his SUV lit up as I opened the door, revealing him dressed in a dark, long-sleeved sweater and jeans.
“Hey,” he greeted me as I climbed in.
“Thanks for picking me up.”
Once I was seated and buckled, I rested my arm on the center console next to his. His sleeves were pushed up to his forearms, his hair tickling my skin as he took off. At the first red light we hit, he adjusted the radio and brought his hand back down to land directly on mine.
He didn’t move it, and I didn’t want him to.
The air was thick with booze and sweat as we entered the bar. It was different from the one Hotch and I usually frequented, preferring something quieter and lower key than this one. It’s crowded, not surprising for a Friday night, but it sure did make it more difficult to locate his team. This time, I'm the one initiating contact, pressing two fingers into his palm as we approached where the team was tucked into a back corner booth. I removed my fingers before they noticed our approach.
“Hotch!” They all greeted him at varying levels of excitement with empty glasses already littering the table.
How long had they been here already?
Morgan had begun moving the team deeper in the booth to make room for us when I recognized a member of their team who I had only seen via a computer screen.
“Hey, nice to see you again,” I greeted everyone, having to raise my voice as the music battled with the overlapping conversations around us. “You must be Garcia,” I reached over and shook her hand as we slid in.
Her excitement was contagious, and I couldn’t help myself from grinning as she spoke and reintroduced the team by first name. There were looks and eyebrows exchanged between the others as they likely wondered exactly what I’d feared, but none of them expressed their questions verbally.
“Drink?” I heard Hotch ask as a waiter came by and I nodded to him, knowing it’ll help my nerves.
I didn’t even need to tell him what drink to order at this point.
“Thanks,” I smiled and felt him shift closer to me until our legs were practically glued together.
It must have been my lucky day because the team kept the conversation topics relatively light as the night wore on. There were plenty of shots going around—Hotch only agreeing to have one with them in solidarity—coupled with food, a few spill mishaps, and raucous laughter. Hotch laughed and smiled with them but not nearly as loudly. He did surprisingly well anxiety-wise, so I wasn’t entirely sure why he wanted me here in the first place. I was having fun, though, and he’d insisted on paying for me, so I didn’t think too hard on it.
My hands were both above the table fidgeting with the condensation on my glass as we loudly discussed the current topic. Hotch tapped his fingers on his glass rhythmically with one hand while the other dropped below and landed on my leg. I jumped at the contact and hoped everyone was too inebriated to notice.
No dice.
Spencer's glassy eyes snapped to my movement briefly, JJ made eye contact across the table with Penelope, Emily stared me dead in the eyes, and Derek stared at Hotch. If I wasn't also in the same line of work, it might not have been so noticeable considering they hadn’t stopped the conversation.
Hotch played it off, slouching back against the booth and laughing at whatever Emily was recanting, looking a little more at ease with the touch.
Now, I notice the difference.
As nonchalantly as possible, he relaxed his arm, slipped his hand between my knees, and tucked his palm under my leg to cup where my hamstring met the bend in my leg. I could feel his warmth through my pants and the way his thumb obsessively traced the inner seam near my knee.
I almost thought they would ignore the way he was leaning noticeably closer, and I was sorely disappointed when Penelope spoke up after Emily finished.
Penelope's eyes were perceptive, and she leaned forward playfully while Derek leaned into her with his arm draped over her shoulder, “So, you two,” she began. Her eyes were twinkling with far too much mischief and now I believed every word from Hotch about how much trouble her and the man next to her got in to together, “You’re...?”
I grinned, laughing off her intrigue and kept my voice as steady as possible, “We’re friends.”
Derek in this state was even more blunt, teasing Hotch further with a smirk playing on his lips, “With benefits?”
Penelope gasped that he followed up with that line while the others hid giggles behind their drinks.
Hotch’s brow furrowed and he lifted his drink off the table as a flush rose up his neck to his cheeks. He took a sip while looking in my direction and I held his gaze. There’s a look I didn’t quite recognize there. “Without sex?” he finally said once he swallowed and set his glass down, “Then, what’s the benefit?”
The entire table erupted into laughter. Derek and Penelope were practically laughing on top of each other, Emily was laughing behind the hand clasped over her mouth with huge, surprised eyes, and Spencer was laughing into JJ's shoulder.
I was just as surprised as them and hadn’t broken eye contact with Aaron yet. His hand had reassuringly squeezed my leg as he smirked to let me know he was joking. With a challenging glint in my eyes, I finally responded as the laughter died down a bit. “My delightful company, asshole,” I shoved him with my shoulder. “And someone to talk to and...did I mention my winning personality?”
Hotch laughed, closing his eyes and leaned heavily back into me. He moved his hand from my leg to wrap his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side.
“Dick,” I murmured playfully through a fake frown.
Aaron just slid over a leftover shot as consolation.
The rest of the night passed in a blur, but the sudden mention of sex has me sweating underneath my clothes. Hotch’s heavy arm and sweater did nothing to help that. It wasn’t like I was unaware of his attractiveness; I was simply unsure of his intentions considering we had never spoke about our relationship. There were plenty of times I had to talk myself out of kissing him despite how easy it would have been, but the look in his eyes when he said that had me digging up all those thoughts again.
It wasn’t a terrible idea. We were both single, busy, and hung out enough as it was. I liked to think were both mature enough to handle something like that. I took another long swig of my drink with a deep frown that I didn’t realize was there.
“You okay?” he dropped his head to murmur close to my ear.
He snapped me out of my thoughts, and I gave him a reassuring grin, “Yea.”
The bar crowd grew thinner and thinner as time passed. Reid looked like he could fall asleep any second and JJ was the only barrier holding him up. The team soon rose, promising to take cabs home to reassure their boss that they were all responsible adults.
Derek gave Aaron one last sly smirk before following Penelope and the others. Hotch just shook his head at him with an amused sigh.
“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” Aaron murmured once they were gone, his voice low now that the bar was much quieter than it was hours ago.
“Of course. It was fun,” I leaned my head on his shoulder.
Despite the absence of the others, he didn’t retract his arm, and my heart started pounding a little faster at the thought. His touch felt more intimate after all that and it made my thoughts race.
How much was I reading into this? How wrong was I? And did I want to do something about it?
“Ready to go? It’s almost midnight,” He asked.
I nodded, finishing my drink.
The drive back to my place was quiet and I fiddled with his hand the entire drive. Between that and my constant looking over at him, he definitely knew something was wrong.
“What’s on your mind?” He raised an eyebrow and gave me a quick glance but refocused his eyes back on the road immediately.
“Hmm?”
“You’re being weird. Is it what I said back there? Because I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he gave me his full attention once he pulled up in front of my building.
“No, no, you’re fine,” I squeezed his fingers. “Just a lot on my mind,” I sighed. I looked out at my apartment building next to us and pursed my lips.
Fuck it.
“You—uh—wanna come up?”
There was absolutely no other reason for me to ask that. He had to know why I was asking without me saying it outright.
Right?
My nerves were on fire and my mind raced with all the possibilities he could come back with. Silent, Hotch took a beat to think and reached for the keys in the ignition, “Sure.”
Oh.
I was hyper aware of Aaron’s presence as he followed me upstairs to my apartment door. My hands were practically shaking with anticipation as I fiddled with the keys. Once I was inside, I left the door open for him and heard him lock it behind me. The click cemented my determination on the matter.
“Make yourself at home,” I nodded toward the couch and started flipping lights on. “Want something to drink?”
“I still have to drive,” he declined, his eyes following me to the kitchen.
“You can always stay here,” I reached up into my cabinets for two glasses and poured a drink for myself and a scotch for Hotch.
“Is that so?” His voice rumbled behind me, much closer than he had been a few seconds ago.
When the hell did he sneak up on me?
I turned to face him, finding him far closer than I imagined. I passed him his drink, which he took a tall sip of, and I hurried to catch up.
That sip must have given him the courage he needed because he set the glass back on my counter and took another step forward. His hand found my waist with a light touch. It wasn’t hesitant by any means, but light enough to ask permission to continue. Unlike the nervous movements in his hands earlier, his hands were confident and intentional now.
“Is this okay?”
“—eah,” I struggled to say as my voice got caught in my throat.
Hotch took the glass from my hand and set it behind me, crowding what little space I had left. We were tense with anticipation as we both leaned in, giving each other enough time to back out. His nose brushed mine, then his lips, before he was fully pressed against me. His tongue flicked out making me gasp and open mine wider. My hands slid under his sweater, feeling his warm skin beneath my fingers. We stayed like that; exploring, consuming, devouring until there was a pause between us. The was air heavy with desire and our breathing.
As I caught my breath, I reached back and grabbed my glass, taking the opportunity to throw back the last of the liquid. Aaron did the same, keeping his eyes fixated on the way my lips wrapped around the glass. I left my glass on the counter and took his hand, tugging him toward my bedroom. I heard his glass clatter on the counter as he left it behind in a rush to follow me.
I threw him a look over my shoulder and tugged my top off, throwing it off to the side. Aaron didn’t need to be encouraged anymore further and ripped his hand out of mine to follow suit. Clothes and shoes were haphazardly discarded until there was nothing left between us. I barely had time to sift through my drawer for the essentials before he was grabbing me around the waist and tugging me onto the mattress. His mouth reconnected with mine, his fingers digging into the mattress as his hips ground down against mine.
“Fuck me, please,” I panted as soon as our mouths separated.
“Gladly.”
He blindly reached for the condom I tossed near him. Once he located it, his oversized fingers fumbled with the packaging. The task was eventually accomplished with minimal difficulty and only a couple giggles as he accidentally pinched himself. The laughter eased the butterflies in my stomach, and I hoped this wouldn’t fuck up whatever we had going for us prior to tonight.
Aaron quickly snatched the bottle of lube and coated his fingers generously. As his fingers pressed against my entrance, I whined in anticipation and wriggled my hips to get him moving. I watched his eyes flutter shut as he put more pressure, jaw dropping in concentration as he focused. As soon as his fingers breached, he couldn’t help himself.
I felt the wet heat of his mouth descend on me, his tongue swirling and lips sucking on my overly sensitive skin. I was torn between tilting my head back to enjoy the feeling and wanting to watch his mouth work. I finally decided to look down, my breath catching as I saw his eyes already trained on me through his lashes. His cheeks hollowed ever so slightly as he sucked making me reach to grab his hair for any sort of purchase. The noises that came from him were sinful and I eventually had to pull his head away once I felt myself ready.
“Need you, please,” I pulled him up to me, feeling him pull his fingers out gently.
We were both understandably impatient with the mix of alcohol and lust. He reached for a pillow with his clean hand and stuffed it under my hips for a better angle. With one last pass of lube over the condom, I felt the blunt press of him against me.
“I’ve got you,” his breath stuttered as he guided himself inside slowly.
My fingers dug into his shoulders as he bottomed out before moving down his back and urging him to go. I let out a moan of relief as his hips started moving, rocking into me slowly at first. Without warning, his mouth sealed over mine and swallowed the gasp I let out as he sharply thrusted, hitting exactly where I need him to.
“More,” I mumbled against his lips.
Aaron was efficient, even now, and repeated himself until I was a whining mess underneath him. He sat up, making enough space to slip his hand between us. I clenched involuntarily as his calloused fingers stroked me, bringing me that much closer to release.
“You feel so good,” he panted. “Squeeze me again.”
I do as he asked, squeezing around him each time he pulls out. The groans pulled from his chest only added fuel to the fire and I didn’t know how I ever survived without hearing them. My hands couldn’t stay still, moving from gripping his arms to running across his collarbone and chest.
“I’m gonna come, I—” I had cut myself off by bringing Hotch’s mouth back down to mine.  My muscles tightened as my release washed over me, fingers digging into whatever I can reach while I clenched around the cock still driving inside me.
Aaron removed his hand from between us, doubling down on his efforts to finish himself. His head tucked into my neck, giving me an even better opportunity to hear Aaron’s moans as he reached his orgasm. His hips stuttered as his release pulsed throughout his body, making him tremble in my arms. When he couldn’t handle the overstimulation anymore, he let himself slip out of me.
He let out a deep hum as we caught our breath, pressing one last kiss to my neck before pushing himself up to his feet. He cleaned himself with a grimace with me not far behind, eager to get the slick substance off my skin. I headed straight back to bed, flopping on the slightly sweaty sheets.
I’m too tired to fix that, I decided.
“I meant it, you can stay,” I mumbled in the dark as I heard his movement pause somewhere between the bed and the bathroom. “Don’t need you getting behind the wheel right now.”
“Mm, thanks,” his sleepy voice returned.
The bed dipped beside me and soon the length of his body was pressed against my back.
~
A sharp jolt pulled me out of my deep slumber. Through the haze I finally I heard the piercing ringtone of a phone. It’s not mine, I realized as I listen to it a second longer. The bed shifted next to me and frantic footsteps thudded across my floor as Aaron looked for his phone.
If he ended up with a case, it was going to massively suck for his hungover team.
“Hey, Jess,” he answered in a far less panicked tone than his feet originally suggested. “Uh, yea. Yea, one is good. Okay, see you then.”
He came back into the room with a more relaxed posture than when he left. He sat on the edge of the bed on the side I was still curled up on, watching him move with sleepy eyes.
“Just Jessica letting me know she’s dropping off Jack at my place at one,” he relayed.
A quick glance at the clock let me know it was only 10:00 AM, which wasn’t bad considering the night we had.
Aaron's hand found my ankle through the sheets, letting his hand glide up to my calf and back down. His face was contemplative though not as outwardly noticeable as the way I chewed the inside of my cheek.
He spoke first.
“That was,” he started, letting a smirk spread over his features, “fun.”
“It was. I…wouldn’t mind if it happened again.”
“Me either,” he punctuated with a squeeze of my calf.
There was a comfortable silence for a minute until he spoke up again, “I’m just—I'm not really looking to—.” He stopped and started again, “Since Haley died I—I’m just not...”
He didn’t have to explain to me the fact that his ex-wife slash high school sweetheart being murdered had done a number on his psyche. I didn’t blame him.
“I get it, Aaron. I’m not either. I’m way too busy and—I just don’t want to,” I replied. It wasn’t a total truth, but it also wasn’t a total lie. I was too busy but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to.
For Aaron, though? I would take what he gave me.
He relaxed a little, his eyes a little sad and I wondered if he could see right through me.
I hope he didn’t.
“I should go,” he murmured, leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss to my cheek while the other side was pressed into my pillow.
When he pulled away, I turned my head to really look at him head on, not expecting him to come back down and kiss me again. This time on my lips, slowly and sensually; a far cry from the desperation last night.  When my eyes opened, he was already up and looking for his clothes.
“I’ll see you next weekend?” I rubbed my hands over my face, sitting up as he gets dressed.
He flashed me a look as if to say “obviously” and threw my discarded top at my face.
“Be careful,” I called after him.
“You, too,” he paused, patting his jeans to make sure all of his belongings were in order. When he was satisfied, he gave me a gentle smile and headed in the direction of my front door.
“Lock the door behind me!” he yelled back before opening the front door and shutting it behind him.
I rolled my eyes and flopped back over onto the bed on my side. I still smelled his scent on my sheets and wondered how I could have thought that this would be a good idea.
~
Ever get the feeling nothing else will do?
I could hear you singing
I can’t explain, I need
Medicine at midnight
But it ain’t no cure
Medicine at midnight howling
But it ain’t no cure
I may be sick but you know I’m yours
-Medicine at Midnight, Foo Fighters
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