#so much to unpack about these two <3< /div>
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
shrews-art · 8 months ago
Text
I'm literally itching to draw something for arcane s2 but I'm completely buried under university stuff, man I wish we had 14 days a week 😭
5 notes · View notes
qardenofeden · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
“kei, do you ever think about how strange it is that we've never fought?” you ask, limbs tangled with his as you cuddle on his bed.
it’s 10:03 PM and you’re doing your best to fight against the chilling, icy atmosphere of tsukishima’s room. for some reason, he likes to sleep like a vampire.
“do you want to?” he offers with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. tsukki doesn’t even open his eyes when he responds, too sleepy to entertain another one of your late night overthinking sessions.
“no,” you say calmly, “but we’ve been together for 7 months. we must either be like, the greatest couple of all time or the exact opposite.”
you feel his chest rise and deflate against your head as he lets an overly dramatic sigh.
you knew tsukishima kei wasn’t one for pda. hell, it was one of the things you loved about him. he knew how to make you feel loved without having to scream it to the world.
like that one time on one of your first dates, when you had accidentally fallen asleep on the soft grass of the park while waiting for his weekend practice to end. you woke up with a hand massaging your scalp.
“how long have you been waiting there?” you giggle, rising from your slumber as you rub your eyes awake. he pulls away, casually avoiding your gaze. “why didn’t you wake me?”
kei only shrugs, “you looked peaceful.”
or that other time you got sick for a week and couldn’t make it to school, so he immediately visited you as soon as you got better and brought his backpack with him.
“i got two copies of all the homeworks due next week, so you don’t have to ask the teachers for them.” he unpacks his notes and fishes out two pens from his bag before turning to you. “come, i’ll teach you everything you missed.”
your teachers praised you for how responsible you were, and told you how much they appreciated that you took the initiative to study.
yeah, you totally did that.
or like right now, and all the other nights you’ve spent at his place. because unbeknownst to you, tsukishima kei sets up his bedroom every single time you visit. he tidies up, cleaning even spots that you would never think to look at. but most importantly, and tsukishima knows this routine by heart, he turns the a/c to the highest setting so you’d be forced to cuddle against him underneath his sheets.
“the former,” is all replies with, and you scoff, rolling your eyes.
“but seriously though. how lucky are we to never have fought even after seven months.”
tsukki sighs again, before reluctantly revealing, “we don’t fight because i make it a point to always agree with you.”
you’re taken aback by his words, sitting up slightly as you look him in the eyes, though his are still closed as he tries to focus on sleeping.
“...huh?”
“idiot,” he teases. maybe he thinks calling you names will cover up for how unbelievably sweet he’s being right now, “why would i want to argue with you?” he shifts, trying to subtly move his face away so you don’t see him fully.
“but i can’t always have my way, you know. a relationship should be 50/50, right?”
“not ours.” he presses your head back against his chest, and you hear his heartbeat fasten a little. “you’re the boss.”
Tumblr media
BONUS: “and you’ve never paid in your life anyway. you don’t believe in that 50/50 bullshit.” “hey!” “i don’t even know what your wallet looks like.”
@kokokoula this one’s for u <3
7K notes · View notes
burymagdalene · 6 months ago
Text
Covetous Cravings - S. Reid x Reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Spencer finds himself sulking around in jealously for the first time after you regrettably tell him you have plans for the night. When surprising him with your presence later, Spencer realizes just how badly he missed you while he was away.
pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader genre: Smuttttt...... (18+ pls pls) tags: Whiny & desperate Spencer, he's just very eager to please. virgin Spencer, munch!spencer, head (fem!receiving), coital takes place on Spencer's pretty Persian rug, jealous Spencer, fingering, heavy make out session, nipple play, handjob, panty sniffing, Spencer's POV! Dirty dirty dirty wc: 5.3k a/n: I've written "Spencer" so many times it doesn't sound like a name anymore. I saw this tweet and was inspired to write something related to the carpet picture. That's all. I don't even think of you that often.
Cold water washes over Spencer's tired eyes and rolls slowly down his wrists to the bottoms of his sleeves (that he rolled up to avoid getting them wet, annoyingly) as he frantically tries to wash away a strange sour feeling in his gut.
Upon looking into his mirror he gazes over the 5 o’clock shadow he’s garnered over the few days spent away in a small town in Delaware. He pulls in his lips and rubs over it with his finger tips. He doesn’t have the energy to shave it right now.
Spencer is currently harbouring a bit of a sourpuss persona, he knows this well. The team had wrapped up the case quicker than expected, leading him to message you as soon as he could about heading back to D.C. and seeing you again.
To his dismay, when he got off the plane and checked his crummy silver Nokia, that you’ve giggled at a fair share of times, the response he receives from you is… that you’re… busy?
Something about a group of friends at a late night cafe/bar getting together, he didn’t read all of it, pouting so much that he just closed his phone. Spencer is aware you had these plans before he asked to see you. Spencer is aware that he’s back from Delaware earlier than expected. Yet he’s still over his sink, face wet and cold, grumbling about your social life.
The two of you have been together for a couple months now, it’s extremely new, he knows you wouldn’t drop everything upon his arrival, but the whole plane ride home he imagined your ideas around hanging out once he got back. He got his hopes up too high.
He begins to reflect a bit, maybe a better word would be spiral, as he wanders back into his bedroom and unpacks his go bag. I shouldn’t be feeling lousy right now, he thinks. We’ve been dating for 2 months and 3 days, he had missed your two month anniversary while he was away. He couldn’t even text you that day because he was too busy. Should he even text about anniversaries like that? He’s so new to this he has no clue. 
Considering your dating timeline now he starts to worry. He’s inexperienced, almost completely… no, yeah, actually completely. He sighs.
You have been over twice, by all the beautiful luck he might have fostered in a past life, he has had the spine-tingling honor to have made out with you those two times as well. After a handful of museum and bookstore dates, even visiting your apartment once, the first time you shared a kiss was when he was showing you Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Cercle Rouge, attesting it was substantial to the gangster film genre. 
When he felt your eyes against the side of his face during the best part of the film, he took a double take at you, seeing an unreadable expression in your eyes. He cringes at the memory of his confusion.
“Th-this part is really good… Pierre’s use of cinematic synecdoche here is perfectly timed compared to–” 
You had leaned in closely and started kissing along his jaw as he fumbled through the rest of his explanation till he tapered off into a whimper that was sealed with a kiss planted on his lips. He even reached to the coffee table in front of him while you were kissing to pause the movie, not wanting you to miss anything.
Spencer groans a bit at the memory, a little embarrassed, he now would recognize the signs you were displaying easier. He’s jealous of his past self, having you to himself so unabashedly. He’s jealous of his past time spent with you and he’s jealous of your friends right now who are hearing your laugh and smelling your perfume all night.
He sighs and flops down on his back to his bed. Spencer does not feel jealous often. He feels completely rotten and out of sorts. He thinks, maybe if he would’ve kissed you more suavely that first time you would’ve dropped your plans now. Maybe if he translated the French into English for you in a more sultry voice you’d skip out on a coffee with your friends. Maybe–
Spencer hears a faint knocking on his front door. He looks over at his alarm clock, 12:12 a.m., hm. He’s hallucinating for sure. Like a lonely old man who hears his late wife’s voice in the dark of his haunted halls–
Another tentative knock. 
He leaps up from his bed and races over to the front door with his legs moving so fast he feels like he’s in Looney Tunes. His heart starts pounding as he looks through his peephole to see a small blurry version of you shifting on your feet. He scrambles to unlock his door and swing it open. 
“Hi!” You smile at him, smelling like strong coffee mixed with whatever lactonic and spicy fragrance you usually wear that curls his toes. You step forward and give him a hug, your arms wrapping around his neck. This springs him into action, wrapping his arms around your waist he mutters out a “wow” against your shoulder. Like he just won a sweepstakes. 
You pull away a bit, but Spencer's arms stay around you. “Is it okay I’m here? You never responded to my texts.” You give him a shy smile and he realizes as he was grovelling he didn’t open his phone again after you said you had plans for the night. 
“Yes! Yes,” he clears his throat… be suave. “Of course. Um. Was just thinking about you, ha. Come over whenever. Yea. Even if I say I’m busy, come over still, haha.” Shit. 
“Ah. Okay, noted. I missed you too, Spencer.” You giggle a little at him and walk into the apartment, leaving him to shut the door behind you. “What were you thinking about?” You muse. 
“Ummmm. Le Cercle Rouge.” Spencer clears his throat again. IQ slashed to 60. 
“The Le Cercle Rouge incident, right.” You laugh again and look over at where he’s standing with a blank face. “Oh. Are you sure it’s okay that I'm here? I know I said I was busy, so I’m sure you’re ready for bed now, especially after the case. Did that go well?” His blank expression has made you nervous, he notices, though he was just considering again the feeling of his neck being kissed for the first time in 24 years. 
“Please stay. A while, too. I’m not tired.” A pause with long eye contact. “The case went surprisingly well, hence the early arrival.” 
The curve of your lip pulls up in a smirk and he sees he’s convinced you fully now. You bend down and unzip the sides of your brown high rise boots, leaving you in your black tank top, skirt, and now kneehigh socks that create a monochromatic wet dream for Spencer. Though this isn’t a dream, he shakes his head from side to side to get rid of the distracting thoughts.
“Good.” You sit down fully on his red carpet now, trying to pull your last boot off. “You know, you were a really short walk from the coffee shop, I’m surprised you’ve never been. As soon as you texted you were back I kept trying to slip away as politely as possible.” You talk while struggling with the shoe.
Spencer takes a deep breath in and meets you on his carpet, sitting on his knees to pull the boot off of you, which was incredibly easy. You were pretending to struggle with it on purpose. Once removed, he sits back against his heels and pushes your knees together by your ankles.
“You walked?” He mumbled back. He would’ve picked you up. He should’ve just checked his phone, told you to have a good night like a proper boyfriend. 
“Mm, like five minutes. No worries.”
“Its midnight- I. I can always pick you up.”
You whined your response, “But you weren’t answering your phoneeee.”
Spencer rubs his face with his hands, covering his smile a bit and feeling his skin heating up. “I’m very glad you showed up anyway. Even if it scares me you walked alone this late,” he glances at you leaning back against your hands, knees still pulled together. “You look very pretty.”
“Really? Thanks. I thought so too. About you, I mean. You’ve got a little 5 o’clock shadow right now, you look really handsome.” You smile and let out an airy laugh. Spencer subconsciously rubs his face again. He’s not sure when these jittery feelings will go away, if they ever will. One compliment from you and he’s feeling a blush coming from inside of him stretch over to his skin. 
He remembers his petulance earlier, his flair for the dramatics. Whining over people other than him seeing you, cursing his past self for awkward conversations, so he leans over onto his hands and knees and kisses your lips. 
You hum against his lips, knees together against one of his sides, happy at Spencer's first time initiating a kiss between you. You sit up off of your hands now  so they can cup his face and pull him firmer against you. Taking one of his wrists from where he’s planted on the floor to the other side of you, you guide him to slowly hover over you. 
Spencer can’t help but let out a tiny noise, a moan, against you as his palms dig uncomfortably into his carpet. He feels you lean back against your elbows and swing one of your legs to the other side of him. Now, you are pressed flat against the carpet, legs on either side of his waist. Spencer slowly moves so he’s on top of your frame, elbows crowning your head.
Both times Spencer has had the pleasure of tasting you like this you have been straddling him on his couch. This is the first time that he’s been able to lay on top of you and feel his hip bones dig into you and your legs around him.
Woah. Your legs are wrapped around him, just like how he’s dreamed of having you in his bed. Legs squeezing helplessly around him as he buries himself in you. Feeling your chest against his as you arch up into him. He lowers one hand to trail it up from your shins covered in your knee highs that make him faint to your hip.
He pushes his crotch down a bit from where it was against yours, making it so the hard-on he’s now sporting is against the floor now. He remembers the visceral feeling of you kissing his neck. Immediately he’s moving down to return the favor. What starts in soft kisses escalates quickly to sucking and laving against your skin, face buried into the source of his wildest dreams, your perfume. 
Your hands are carding through his hair right now, nails scratching at him softly and he has to position himself a bit closer to the ground now to rub off some built up tension his cock is begging for. This is usually where you part.
Face buried in your neck he’s smelling your intoxicating scent and moaning against the skin. He feels like a wild animal smelling a pheromone filled scent gland. Spencer realizes briefly where he is and pulls up from your neck to stare down at your face.
Hair haloing around you, you’re feverish and pressed against the Persian rug he spent his first big paycheck on. You have a bit of mascara smudged under your eyes and the lamps scattered around his living room are highlighting you in a way so beautiful he moans out again softly. No friction, no kissing, just by looking at you.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he traces the line of your neck up and down softly with the tips of his fingers. “I almost drowned in my sorrows before you knocked on my door.” He leans back down and chuckles against the skin of your neck.
You don’t have exactly the same romantic thoughts in mind as you gasp out for the first time since he’s laid on you, “You feel so good against me, Spence. Wanted this so bad,” he stops kissing, breathing lightly against your neck as you continue. “Can’t believe I haven’t pulled you on me sooner.” He’s blinking silently hidden in the corner of your neck. He acts on a whim and bites down lightly against where your neck and shoulder meet and you squeal. 
Spencer was not prepared for the blazing eye contact he’d be met with once pulling away to look at you. Your tank top has ridden down, the top of your pink bra showing a bit and your hair is drastically more disheveled than when you arrived. He can feel his heart in his throat. He has to keep making you let out that sound.
You seem to notice his brazen eyeline and you take one hand to pull the neckline of your top down a bit, exposing most of the bra covering your breasts that are only slightly spilling out from all your wiggling. Spencer shuts his eyes like he’s in pain, but he’s actually moving his hips up and away from the floor so he doesn’t come in his pants right then and there.
A completely new and formidable heat spreads over him and into his loins. Never in his life has Spencer trembled with anticipation in this way. His skin is on fire and he’s struck with the overwhelming need to make you the happiest person in this world. He wants to have you shiver and shudder completely against his apartment floor, he wants to hear every moan and grunt until your voice gives out. He wants to fuck you with his mouth.
“Gah-God, baby,” Spencer moves himself away from you so that he’s kneeling between your open thighs, rubbing the outsides of your legs as he looks into your eyes. “My mouth. Um, can I use my mouth?” He lets out a shaky breath at the image.
You bite your lip softly at him, he feels like he just licked the screen on one of those old staticy TVs he used to have. “Use your mouth for what?” You half play coy and half ask in earnest, not wanting to jump to conclusions since you and Spencer have never taken off many layers together.
“I want to use my mouth to make you cum.” His face flushes immediately, your eyes widen in shock. He drags his sight down to where you lay in front of him. Legs spread open and skirt ridden up giving him an obscene upskirt of your underwear for him. Also black. He keeps his eyes there as you reply.
“Yeah. Please, please-” he whips his head up to look at your face again to engrain the image of you unkempt and nodding a desperate yes into his memory. He lightly reaches out between your thighs to briefly feel the bottom of your panties. He’s barely thinking, his first instinct was to gauge how wet you are, to compare it to how you’re going to feel later. You gasp sweetly and he moans in response, untouched, again.  
With this searing hot permission Spencer gets hit with a strong pietistic devotion towards you. There is literally nothing in his life that has mattered more to him right now than how the gusset of your panties stick onto you and that his tongue can finally be given the task he has thought about constantly since knowing you. 
The anxiety Spencer was expecting as a result of his inexperience is completely overthrown by a perfectly instinctual autopilot setting he falls into. The excitement of making you feel good, you letting him touch you in such a profound way completely overshadows the doubt of his expertise. 
Not that he’s completely clueless. Erotica classics hide in his bookshelves, copies of Anaïs Nin’s short stories, the detailed counts of female pleasure derived from biology books, decent sex education stemming from the countless hours he’s poured into literature. He’s fairly in tuned to what generally makes people crumble, he just has to try it out himself. 
Spencer starts at the top again. The push and pull between him and eating you out the way he’s craving will have to drone on a little longer as he starts kissing along the exposed skin of your breasts, not wanting to leave anything unkissed. How rude. 
You outstretch your neck to him and slide the tank top off yourself, leaving just your pink lace bra that's covering little of your nipples. Spencer fingers the straps briefly while taking in the sight of you. He cannot believe the cosmic circumstances that have led him to this moment.
“D’you like?” you mumble while watching him eye-fuck you. He almost feels sorry for how he’s watching your chest rise and fall but the way his dick is pulsing under the confines of his underwear allows for little words.
In fact, his hips kick a twitch forward at the sound of your voice. A siren song as old as time. 
“MmmIwanna,” Okay. Form words. “I wanna-” he pities himself enough to give up on that one and kisses along your chest again.
“Do what you want to. I want to feel you everywhere… I want you to touch me.” You seem to understand his dilemma. A once articulate tongue falls flat in such a frenzied situation. 
Spencer palms your tits through your bra properly now while kissing you sloppily. He feels the friction of the lace against his palm and your hardened nipple receiving the rough friction from it as well. He picks up on your whine against his lips and pulls your bra down by the middle of it, exposing your chest fully. 
You gasp against his lips and move your tongue against his as a thanks. Spencer lets out a tiny “ah” from the back of his throat when your tongues meet. To regain composure he takes the nipple he was palming through lace earlier and rolls it between his middle finger and thumb, it’s your turn to kick your hips up for friction now. 
He decides to lower his hips against yours fully for the first time, desperately searching for that debauching pleasure that he was avoiding earlier. His dick rests nicely under your belly button and you bite his bottom lip when he’s fully settled against you, he feels sort of proud. 
Feeling your body completely pressed against him in this way makes him mourn every second he’s been with you and not made you moan in happiness like he is now. Wishing that the pesky virginity he’s carried with him this long will be taken by this angel underneath him right now. His cock twitches against you at the thought of it.
He stops fiddling with the nipple and instead moves to hold one of your hands with his as his other hand moves to rub your neglected nipple. He subtly grinds a long and slow rhythm against where you two are pressed together and you make a curious noise, a full moan caught before getting let out. Nudged in your throat as you hold it in.
Spencer thinks for a moment and smiles at the realization that it sounds almost exactly like how you hold back a laugh in your throat. A small and choked out “hngh” high pitched before its snuffed out. He thinks of any future endeavors where he gets to hear you hold back a laugh in a quiet museum or library from one of his stupid jokes. With this comparison he’s going to be pathetically hard in so many more inappropriate situations now.
“Please, can you please take my panties off.” You mewl gently, almost as if you’re worried he will refuse, and break him out of his thoughts. Spencer nearly forgot how lost in his head he was while methodically rubbing your sensitive breasts and grinding against you. 
“Pretty girl, I’m sorry.” He really is, he never wants you to feel so desperate you have to beg for him to touch you, but without interference he could probably sit for eight hours straight playing with your tits to see if you could come from it. He whines out loud at the thought. “I will, of course, I will.”
The feeling of him peeling himself off you feels tortuous. However, it is very much a high risk, high reward scenario when he looks down between your thighs again to see a wetter fabric clad to your hips. Spencer leans towards you, pushes your socks down slightly to kiss the tops of each of your knees. You giggle and he nips the inside of your leg slightly. 
It’s dizzying, the experience of pulling your panties down for the first time. Every night where he has sloppily fucked his fist thinking of your smile lines and pretty hands, every evening after you’ve left his apartment well kissed has finally led to this life altering moment.
Your panties have been slid off and he’s got an iron grip on them as he’s staring at you fully exposed, the translucent liquid smudged around your cunt. He’s trying incredibly hard to not push them up to his nose and inhale, he thinks he’s done enough animalistic sniffing and grunting at you tonight. He places them neatly on the couch instead. 
“Baby, Spence, you’re a voyeur.” You laugh at his staring gently, he assumes 25% of this experience for you has been watching him stare bug eyed at every inch of skin you’ve surrendered. He lays down flat on his tummy, sucking in air through his teeth as his dick presses against his carpet through his slacks again. “Feel sensitive, that feels like a lot?” You ask softly down at him. He flushes, embarrassed a little that you notice him the exact same way he notices you. Spencer pinches his eyebrows together and nods.
“Feels.. real good though.” He laughs gently at himself as you groan and rest your head back down on the carpet at how sweet he is.
He wraps his arms tightly underneath your thighs to pull your pussy closer to him, your skirt riding up to your belly in the process. He feels you squirm a little under his arms and kisses the skin above your hip flexors softly.
His heart skips a beat when he’s up close to you, a sliver of doubt creeping up along with the immeasurable need to make you feel good. Spencer takes his tongue out and licks a broad stripe up from right below your opening to above your clit. This is more for himself, actually. He wants to taste every single drop you expelled from him kissing and touching you, it’s what he deserves.
Spencer's arms immediately have to resist against your thighs moving shut, using a bit of his strength to keep you open as he does it again. This time he moves his head slightly side to side. The whine he hears coming from your lips makes him take one arm away without thinking to hold your lips open and wraps his lips around your clit.
The open window you get without one arm suspending your leg allows you to close one thigh to the side of his face while the other is still pried open by him. He continues to suck gently, pulls away and lifts up the skin covering your clit, kisses it softly, you let out a pitiful sobbing noise and Spencer sucks your clit again, rolls it between his lips.
You help him out by taking your other thigh away from his face and holding it up yourself. “Wh-who taught you to do this?” You squeak out giving him a sense of confidence he’s been desperately striving for. Spencer cannot bear to part from your cunt to reply so he just hums lowly against you, hoping that you get his message of I daydream about doing this to you every waking moment through the vibrations he’s emitting.
He feels you rock your hips against his face greedily and he smiles a toothy grin against you. His perfect pliant girl, he couldn’t be happier to have your wetness rubbed against his nose as he dives into you. 
Wanting to escalate the scenario a bit, he’s internally pleading to feel you cum against his face, Spencer begins to suck harshly and suction onto your clit intermittently. The loud “fuck” you whimper out and how your torso isolates to twist to the side as you keep your hips in place is a good indicator that he’s making you feel good. This is a dream.
“Hh- mmmm” you cry out and Spencer flickers his gaze up to your face. You’re scrunching your face like a sweet bunny and have one hand up and posed above his head, waiting to push him away, the pleasure so strong you have to implicitly prepare yourself to shove him away when it gets to be too much. He moans highly against you.
The hand you had defensively propped up begins to lightly push at his face, he smiles at this, suctions your clit through his lips and runs circles over it with his tongue, your hand falls limply to your side.
“Fingers- ah, fingers!” You manage to gasp out one more plea before sucking your lips in and moaning deeply against them.
You seriously do not have to ask him twice. Being able to feel you twitch and grip around his fingers while he sucks on your clit has him pushing himself against the floor. The bordering on painful stimulation he’s getting from using all his body weight to hump his carpet sends tingles up and down his spine. As you said, sensitive. 
Spencer starts by tracing your entrance with his middle finger, he slips in easily just by doing that, your slick and his spit making the intrusion incredibly easy. He wastes no time pulling his finger up against your g-spot and slips in his ring finger alongside it, rubbing slick circles inside of you.
The noises your cunt is making from his incessant sucking and rubbing could probably be heard from any of his neighbors walking by his front door. He gasps hotly at this thought, what are you doing to him? Has he no shame?
You’re riding his face and fingers again, mumbling intelligible sentences. God, his cock hurts. 
“Baby, close, don’t stop-” The angelic words fall from your mouth and his ears perk up like an owner saying her dog's favorite words to it. Spencer continues exactly what he’s doing against you and looks up at you again through your back arching.
He can feel you twitching and senses you’re done for. If only he could talk and eat you out at the same time, he wants to call you pretty until tears come from your eyes. You gasp wetly and come all over his fingers.
Your thighs clamp against his head and he lets you do whatever you need to do to his face to get off. He’s rubbing soft and soothing circles against your hips as you hiccup through your orgasm.
You open your mouth as if you have something to say, and close it again, shuddering out a breath of air. Spencer pulls away, he can talk again.
“My good girl, thank you. I mean, you tasted so good… you’re so pretty, my pretty, oh my god-” He’s got a lot on his mind right now.
Spencer watches and follows your movements as you sluggishly sit up to kiss him, moving your tongue against his in an eager display to taste yourself against his lips, he whines again, feeling your warmth against him. When you palm him through his pants Spencer stutters out a pornographic “hnnn”, the friction from his rubbing against the floor has left him painfully needy.
“Can I take your cock out baby?” You ask against his neck. Spencer is aware of the embarrassing uhhuh uhhuh he releases as he scoots back against his couch. You don’t bother teasing him, taking out his red dripping dick from his pants and underwear and you don’t even giggle when it makes a whip sound as it taps against his skin.
He actually has to close his eyes after watching you whine in overstimulation as you collect your come from yourself to use it as lubrication to jerk him off with it. He’s genuinely going to pass out.
With a mouth open to the shape of an “o”, Spencer has an onslaught of tiny gentle noises that fill up the room alongside the skin slapping sound of you jerking him off. You touch the crown of his dick and one of his arms shoots out to brace himself against the couch. 
He accidentally grabs your panties he placed on the couch earlier.
Not thinking, he grips onto them and you kiss his cheek. “Want em’?” You tease. “My panties are in my top drawer next time you come over and want to snoop around.” You joke further, a red flush of humiliation covers Spencer's neck and chest. He slowly moves his grip on them over to his nose. Too far gone to have the same self-control he had earlier to set them aside, he finally indulges in taking in your scent.
He’s somewhat expecting more prodding and teasing, but you just continue to kiss over his face softly. He’s so thankful.
There’s no surprise to the fact you have him coming especially fast. Spencer feels his legs twitch and he sets down your panties to kiss you properly as he finishes all over your fist. 
As he comes down from this unexplainable high he is struck with such a tender feeling of affection towards you his eyes water. You notice and scoot onto his legs and lap and wrap your arms around him in a hug.
Not letting go until you feel him chuckling against you, you ask him how he feels and he sighs out dramatically. He’s so exhausted now.
You shyly offer to wet-vac his carpet once you guys move to clean yourselves up and he breaks out into a laughter that makes his stomach hurt. You eventually join his contagious laughter at the situation.
Spencer’s suggestion for you to stay a while is accepted with open arms. You spend your first night together wrapped up in each other's embrace. Being back in his own bed with you here settles his mind so gently that within three minutes of his head hitting the pillow he’s out like a light. 
In the morning when he wakes up for work he rubs his nose softly all over your face to wake you up. Spencer offers that you stay in his bed and sleep more or he can drive you back to yours before he heads over to work. He ends up driving you home so you can get ready for work yourself. Once you’re back home he finally opens up his phone again from last night to see a picture of yourself you sent on the walk to his apartment last night with the text under it “Had to come see you anyway, hope the doors unlocked mwahaha”.
He finds himself smiling at his missed message all day at work and once he’s seated back in his car to go home later that day he finally finds the “forgotten” panties you left on his passenger car seat when you left this morning.  
Spencer flushes then pockets them before texting you that he is in fact not a voyeur or a perv and he did not put your panties in his pocket and he is not asking you to come over again tonight so he can cook you a pasta dinner before he lays you out for him again, hopefully on his bed this time.
5K notes · View notes
xplicitviewz · 2 months ago
Text
Pussydrunk!Choso who was more than happy when you came home after the dreadful ‘3 days and nights’
You called Choso around 2am telling him to unlock the door because you truly didn’t have the energy to find your keys in your purse when you already had to figure out which bag was yours in the trunk, and that’s after driving for almost 2 hours and dropping off 3 other people. Choso missing you so much and being the best boyfriend, immediately headed outside with just a hoodie and some sweats, and waited for the rental van he saw you and your friends leave in pull up.
When it did, he offered to finish the drive for the remainder of your friends home, seeing you all were hungover and tired but the last two decline saying they would be sleepover one of their houses so they can return to rental in the morning together.
Choso helped you with your bags while you said bye to your friends, his mood is instantly lit up, and he all of a sudden feels more energetic. Watching you smile and wave bye made him happy because he knew you were coming to lay right next to him.
When you finally got in the house, you immediately went and snuggled into his arms, as he wrapped them around your frame, holding you tight. “Missed you Cho.” You mumble sleepily, “and my neck hurts from driving.” You look up at him, resting your chin on his chest.
“That’s because you never drive, shoulda told me, I would’ve went there just to drive for you.” He kisses your head. “I’m so sleepy,” you rest your head on him again.
While you showered, Choso unpacked your bags, putting the dirty clothes in the laundry basket, putting your skin care and makeup bag on your vanity, and putting your shoes away. He fluffed your pillows and took off his hoodie waiting for you to get out. He knows how tired you are and wants you to be relaxed and comfortable.
But here’s the thing, it’s been 3 days….oh yeah and nights. 3 long dreadful days he had gone without you, without feeling you, without tasting you. One thing about Choso, he’s an eater. He’ll just randomly start eating you out, doesn’t matter what time it is or what you’re doing (of course at home but it’s happened in public too). And don’t let you be lying down on the bed just minding your business.
It’s gotten to the point where he doesn’t even tell you anymore because you’ll want to freshen up, and him personally, he doesn’t like that. You on the other hand, mind it but Choso soon makes you forget about it.
When you got out the shower and laid down next to Choso, you gave him the biggest kiss before lying along him. Choso was lying on his back, his arm around you, with a raging boner from just thinking about your pussy. He shifts his body to face you giving you another kiss, and another, and another.
Moving to your neck slowly leaving you kisses. “Cho, m’sleepy.” You mumble with a small smile. “Just wanna eat you baby, been so long. Lemme help you relax yea?” He kisses the skin on your neck, lifting the oversized shirt of his you were wearing. His fingers trail along your breast, softly tugging at your nipple, causing you to whimper. He swore he almost came from just that.
Choso moves his lips from your neck to your hardened nipple, lightly sucking on it while looking up at you, his other hand pumping your boob in his hand. He feels your skin grow hot while he teases you. Your stomach rises and falls feeling his touch on you. As much as you try to ignore the wetness pooling in your panties, you can’t. Especially not when his fingers are gliding down your stomach ever so lightly.
You gasp lightly when he reaches right above your underwear, still sucking and swirling his tongue around your nipples, humming softly against your skin. “Cho,” you drag out as your eyes close trying to steady your breathing. Feeling his touch on your body ignites something every single time. “Hmm?” He responds still sucking on your boobs, biting very lightly on your nipple. He knows you’re tired and he wants to make this as comfortable and relaxing as possible. One of his hands still pumping your other boob in his hand, feeling the plushness of your skin and the other teasing you by tracing along your the hem of your underwear.
He leaves a few marks on your boob before moving to the other, “Just relax baby, close your eyes, lemme help you sleep better.” He murmurs, his tongue flicking your perked up nipple, before wrapping his soft lips around it, moaning into your skin.
You push your chest out on instinct as he sucks, switching his hand to pump your other boob. His tongue swirls around the bud as he sucks in more and more skin. You barely open your eyes to see his staring right at you, taking in everything. His fingers slip down to your panties, brushing lightly over your clothed clit, sliding down to your entrance where it was damp from your arousal.
Choso moans at the touch of your warmth and the expression you made, the small gasp you let out. He sucks your nipple a bit more before moving down your chest, leaving soft kisses and gentle nips all over your stomach, whining every time he pressed against his throbbing leaky cock when he moved down your body. He couldn’t hold himself back anymore, he needed you in his mouth.
“S-stop teasing.” You whisper squirming your hips. “Mmm not teasing,” he kisses your belly button, moving down, “tryna help you feel good.” Choso gets between your legs, lying on his stomach. Whimpering at the little spot on your panties he was surprised he can make out in the dark room. He grinds his bulge into the bed below him, his eyes rolling, “ f-fuck baby.”
He spreads your legs resting them on his shoulder before pressing kisses to your pussy. Your hips squirm in his face as he licks you through your underwear. “Ohh Cho please.” You lazily beg, your head pushing down in the pillows. “I know, just, I missed you, wanna take my time.” He sucks your clit through the wet fabric. You suck in a breath, whimpering when he moans around you. Your hand find his, trailing up above your thighs and holding you down in a way where he could let you squirm but not close your legs.
He continues to wet up the fabric, making sure to trace every inch of your pussy with the tip of his tongue, adding pressure on your sensitive spots. It was as if he was going to draw your pussy from memory. To be real, he knows your pussy from memory. His hands trail back down and under you, pulling off your panties slowly. Choso humps the bed watching your arousal stick to your underwear, his eyes dilating when he sees your pussy drooling out slowly, winking at him.
He wraps his arms around under your thighs, scooting you closer to him before he takes a breath, breathing you in. His eyes roll as he presses his dick into the bed. Barely even got started and he’s about to cum in his pants. “Baby please, need your mouth please, you got me so worked up.” You whimper squirming in his hold as the cold air hits your clit.
“Shhh baby you supposed to be going to sleep.” He kisses your clit, the warmth of his lips soothing you before blowing on it. Your hips jerk as you whine from the contrast. Choso licks his lips pressing more into the bed, moaning at your taste, it’s so addictive. His tongue strides up your wet slit to your clit, scooping more in his mouth.
Just like that, it was over. As if he was a vampire tasting blood for the first time. He held your thighs down and got to work. 3 days and nights, long time without you. Choso stuck his tongue in your hole in and out, in and out, lapping all your juices. He had to remind himself this is for you to relax, not for you to get energy. He honestly doesn’t want to fuck, he just wants to eat. Humping the bed for him to cum was more than enough.
His mouth moves to your clit, flicking his tongue gently up and down, side to side, clockwise, and opposite. Moaning as he hears your arousal seep out more. The lewd squelchy sound is his favorite. Your eyes are shut closed as you are held down, moaning desperately. Rocking your hips as he’s licking up and down your entrance, “shit baby, feels so good.”
He hums and moans against you, his eyes half-lidded as his keeps grinding into the bed, totally getting off to this. You thighs tremble slightly at the vibrations and your hands find his messy hair and pull. Chose moans louder, lapping his tongue around your clit with his lips around sucking softly.
Your legs tense up as you feel the pressure build up. “Cho, m’gonna cum soon, please, don’t stop, please, need it.” You moan your back arching as you tug his locks, pressing his face down more. Choso moves his tongue faster, adding just one finger and fucking you lazy with it, you clench tightly around his finger coating him with your essence. Your eyes roll back and you bite your lips.
“Taste so good, I’m not done yet. Cum all you need to baby, I still need more.” He kisses your pussy again before going back at it. Adding another finger he slowly curls them and scissors them inside you. You let out a louder moan as you cum out of no where.
He continues to lap around your clit, and thrust his fingers slowly riding out the high, taking his fingers out and spreading your pussy to lap up your cum. Moaning at the taste, grunting from grinding into the bed. His own legs are shaking as he feels his dick throb more, feels the leaky mess he made on his thighs. You are squirming in his hold, trying to close your legs but he isn’t letting you move an inch. Pulling your body closer he stuff his face fully, his nose hitting your clit while his tongue fucks your hole, moving his bead for more pressure.
“Baby f-fuck Chooo, p-please, I’m gonna cum again.” You whimper feeling the overstimulation he was giving you. You prop yourself up on your elbows, your own eyes half-lidded as you watch him eat- no devour you full with his eyes closed, moaning and humping the bed. He clearly was lost in you.
Your legs tremble as your head falls back when he sucks on your clit, adding 2 fingers and fucking you faster than before. Choso feels his orgasm about to bit but he wants you to cum first, again. He moves his hips into the bed faster, whining at the intensity, moaning at the feeling of you coating his fingers, at the taste of you in his mouth.
“Oh-nnggh- Ch-Cho- cummi-fuck- cumming baby I’m cu-o-ooh.” You whined out, as your hips jerk in his face, his tongue still moves as he desperately humps the bed feeling his own release coming too.
He moans loudly into you, spilling his warm load in his sweats, when you clench tightly around his fingers, your walls fluttering as he imagined how it’ll feel around his cock. Choso opens his eyes to see you sprawled on the bed, one hand holding the pillow next to you and the other pumping your boob as he continues to clean you up, more slowly.
He parts his mouth, leaving a kiss after, “she missed me too.” He smugly smirks watching you roll your tired eyes.
After choso cleaned you up, he went to the bathroom to clean himself up from his own mess and came back, you were out cold. Choso smiles and lays next to you, holding you close and kissing your temple before drifting off to sleep himself.
*not proofread*
Part 1
Ex-husband!Eren
Sylus mini
Nerd!armin x reader x boyfriend!eren
Best friend!jean x reader
Needed to do a part 2 😌😌😌
983 notes · View notes
lunarcowgirl · 3 months ago
Text
don't leave me here without you | one
yeah yeah fuck me, jack abbot x f!doctor!reader
you can read part two here and part three here
Tumblr media
dr abbot finds your resume and thinks you are leaving the pitt - absolute disgusting and pathetic behaviour ensues, its all very endearing.
~~~
from the office of the author: DOn't even LOOK at me, I'm embarrassed. the pitt consumes my every waking thought so I'm going to make that everyone else's problem :)
this is my very first fic!!! it is a work of fiction!!!!! i do not know anything about being a doctor!!!!!! inaccuracies are none of my damn business!!!!!!!!!!
i can’t help but love the emotional constipation of jack and robby in this show, and i was feeling inspired by jack, so this is my attempt at unpacking a bit of it. reader is indeed reader, but i have formed a bit of a character in my head, so pls forgive me she does get a last name late in the piece. hope you enjoy!!!!! maybe more soon!!!!! <3
warnings: cussing, jack being pathetic, snooping based behaviours, mentions of loss of bodily function/traumatic injuries, mentions of war, mentions of covid, a spider may or not be guilty of a crime, miscommunication i fear, bad grammar from yours truely, bit o' angst
word count: 2.1k
Dr. Jack Abbot thought he was doing a very fine job not staring at you all shift long, thank you very much. It had gotten harder since you’d changed the way you’d done your hair, letting the blonde grow out. When the lights hit the top of your two fastidiously tied french braids it set the crown of your head on fire, like the sun itself sat behind you in some kind of imitation of a halo. angel indeed. You’d pierced your left ear again, yet another little golden hoop in the soft shell of cartilage at the very top. Every now and then, he would see you reach for it, as if to scratch an itch, but catch yourself before you could touch the still healing wound. The smallest, prettiest crease would form between your eyebrows, and your hand would curl into a tight fist of frustration. You were going to be the absolute death of him.
The last trauma had been difficult; damage to the neck not only making finding an airway close to impossible, but suggested a grim future for the patients ability to move as he once did. Walking was now in question. Fucking e-scooters, they were starting to offer up more victims than motorbikes. It had been an excruciating emotional dance to explain to the teenager’s recently widowed mother, that her 15 year old’s life would now be dramatically different, that she was going to have to take on a new burden. The quiet, contained grief in her eyes, not breaking contact with his, was just about all he could take for this shift.
It was easy then, to justify a little bit of gratuitous selfishness in front of the board; the easiest place to catch a glimpse of you. This shift you’d remained calm and switched on, as you always were, but something was clearly scratching at your mind. Standing dutifully behind Jack as he spoke to the mother, gently answering her questions, offering sincere condolences, introducing her to Kiara had all been done with perfect form. but when it was done, you had all but fled back to the nurses’ station, logging onto one of the computers at break neck speed.
This is where you now sat, chin resting on your linked fingers, eyes in a predatory narrow. Without meaning to, without really realising it was happening, Jack let himself drift slowly around the desk. On his journey closer to you he let his hands fall into nonchalant, non-suspicious motion. Adjusting the cord of the landline, running his finger over some forms to see if they needed his signature, flicking on a tablet to consider the chart on it. He didn’t really have the time to think too hard about it, but some small voice in the back of his head told him he looked like a fucking idiot. Jesus Christ, he’d committed now.
To get a decent angle of your screen he would have to step back a little from the desk, making it pretty damn obvious he was snooping. If it was only a glance, just a few seconds, he should be in the clear. Mindful not to get to close (you seemed to have eyes in the back of your head when it came to him, probably since he was your attending), he took one last scan of the room to check no one was clocking every last shuffle he was taking.
Pursing his lips with arms crossed tightly across his chest, he stepped back swiftly, eyes flicking down your screen. The majority of it was taken up by a word document, your name is bold letters across the top. Underneath was a jumble of dot points, places and years and accolades and societies—a resume?
A resume…your resume. You were leaving?
His heart went somersaulting into his stomach, bouncing off his ribs on the way down.
When had you decided this? Where were you going? When were you going to tell him?
Jack felt anger and grief and confusion and jealousy all at once in his veins like some kind of poisonous cocktail. What was he, some kind of teenager? What had he ever done to deserve an explanation from you? You, who was so wonderful and so clever and so funny and so so beautiful. You who had only ever weathered his grumpiness and sour expressions and poorly timed criticism with grace and patience. You who’d never figured out how to be a pessimist, who never let the bad days win. The thought of your absence was more painful than he could have ever expected — it scared him goddamn shitless.
“Dr Abbot?”
Dr Ellis had materialised out of nothing on the other side of the desk, one eyebrow cocked. Jack nearly tripped over his own feet to get away from you and the scalding sensation of shame burning across his face, “Ya?”
“Uh, can I get your eyes on a case in South 15? We’ve got a 10 year old, lethargic, sweaty, confused. Her parents are insistent she hasn’t ingested anything.”
Your head snapped up, finally divorced from whatever hypnotic pull the resume had on you.
“Does she have control over her extremities, fingers?”
Ellis frowned, “She was moving them a lot, almost obsessively. I figured if might just be a reaction to the confusion and being in a strange place.”
You stood in one fluid motion, hands quick to grab a pair of gloves, feet quick to dance around the station to get to Ellis’ side.
“Mind if I join? I think we need to look for a spider bite. Funnel-weavers are usually—”
And with that the pair of you were gone, walking shoulder to shoulder into the fray like soldiers in arms, conversing in low, practised tones. Ready to tackle whatever the inside of that room held; the scariness of having to diagnose quickly, the stress of terrified parents breathing down your neck. It didn’t matter how bitter-of-heart Jack had become after all the years of carnage, there was still a part of him that sang at the sight of a well-oiled team. It was selfish, he considered, to believe your leaving would effect just him. Every last doctor, nurse, support worker, radiologist, technician, transport aide, frequent flyer and desk clerk would mourn your loss. Perhaps the endearing Mel King most of all. She had taken to your cheerful demeanour and calm teaching style like someone drowning does to oxygen. In the time Langdon had been a voluntary inpatient, you had been a much needed rock in the stormy wake of that revelation. Another loss could send her off kilter again, and the ER needed her…badly.
So where exactly were you planning to run off to? Surely you wouldn’t go overseas again, not after what had brought you home the last time...
Morality was telling him to just walk away, to busy himself in some problem that likely was currently yearning for his help.
They hadn’t reached out had they? Could they convince you to go back?
He wished Bridget would just call for him, that Shen would bustle in with all his careful questions. But wishing would not make it so. And he had fought so long, all his life. The older he became, the easier it was to just surrender. To drift. The computer was about to fall asleep, locking it to the world. One swift movement of the mouse sealed his fate. He was a shameless snoop, a betrayer of privacy - your privacy.
It couldn’t be denied, the resume was impressive. Very, very impressive. How many graduating honours could one 30 something year old have? And the places you’d been, you’d practised - how many names could you possibly stack next to each other? Some of them he hadn’t even seen with his eyes, even after all the time in the camouflage pants that chaffed like you wouldn’t believe. You’d seen the very worst Covid had served up in Mexico City and Rio, you had been at the very front in Ukraine, in Afghanistan, traipsed all the way across North Africa and South America and just about every island in Indonesia. Pittsburgh, even with its fair share of tragedy, felt so foreign on the page next to all the adventure and danger. It would be easy to think that you had simply become bored, and wished once again to go somewhere that you could stem the flow of blood. Jack thought the blue beret would match the new blonde hair quite nicely.
“Dr Abbot?”
He froze. That voice. How long had he been staring at the carefully typed words, wishing they would reveal an answer?
There was no way, no way at all that he could gracefully and silently retreat from this one. He was elbow deep in the cookie jar, no better than a child, spited at not being told the grown up’s secret. He looked behind himself with humiliating slowness, feeling infinitely small and ashamed. The small crease between your brows had deepened into a valley he could not dig himself out of.
“Dr James.” He said, his voice sounding all together too loud and too far away, “If you are walking away from a computer in any circumstance other than a complete emergency, you must log off, there is confidential information of patients that must be protected from wandering eyes.”
“Wandering eyes?” You let a laugh escape, entirely hollow.
And then, with more steel then he had ever heard, “Can I speak with you privately for a minute?”
“Fine.” He said, straightening with an angry click from his back. Too old for all this high school shit. You made a point to lean past him, and log off with a few aggressively passive aggressive snaps of the keys.
He trailed behind your long, mechanical strides, deeply unsettled by the stiff set of your shoulders. Maybe you’d developed the ability to be negative in the time to took to stomp from the nurses’ station to the family room door, which you promptly shoulder charged open. Once it was safely closed behind both doctors, you whirled on him.
“What the hell were you doing looking at that?”
“Like I said, you need to log off—”
“Bullshit, Jack!” You looked wild, eyes impossibly wide, “There was no reason for your face to be 2 inches from the screen to log me out. Or have your eyes completely given out since the start of shift?”
If there was no way to dodge the bullet, he may as well try swallowing it, “What exactly do you plan on doing with that document? You gonna flee the country again? Run from all us sorry fucks here in the Pitt?”
You recoiled, like the venom in his words had actually struck your skin. Jack watched them sink in, the sizzle of their marks.
You shook your head once, looking down at your sneakers, the 10-year-too-old linoleum floors.
“I can’t believe you. I cannot believe you.” The words were pulled straight from your chest at the end of meat hooks.
Jack opened his mouth to strike again, but your gaze shot upwards and locked onto his. The attacks died on his tongue.
“All I have done since I set foot in here was try and get close to you Jack Abbot. I have offered you my full attention, my utter respect and confidence and trust, all my effort, all my energy, everything I have.” You took an incredulous step backwards, unsteadied by your own words and the weight of them now sitting between you, “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, I would ride right on back into all the shit and misery all over again if that is what you asked of me.”
Something that looked frighteningly like a tear slipped down your cheek and off your chin.
“And what do you offer in return? You push and push and push me away.” The words wobbled now, exhausted from the revelation.
“What right do you have,” You gasped, “to now act betrayed about this? To declare you’ve always cared? Like its me that’s hurting you?!”
Killshot.
Jack’s mouth pressed into a hard line, a terrible burning spreading through the back of his eyes, a horrible pressure on his chest. All that time he had been pretending not to look at you, you had been staring straight through him into his very soul. Seeing every ugly inch of his insides. He wanted to run, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness at your feet.
Bridget rapped sharply on the door of the window, her face grave, “Car pileup on the highway, multiple traumas, 4 minutes out.”
By the time he turned back to you, your face had been schooled back into cool neutrality, a deep breath filling your lungs. Before Jack could reach out and touch you, you were gone, like you were never even there.
~~~~~
um, so yeah I guess? more soon! x
| next
1K notes · View notes
jooyeonsvape · 7 months ago
Text
fuck buddy : mingyu smut
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
genre: smut
w/c: 3.1k
warnings: dom!mingyu, sub!reader, female reader, sex toys, throat fucking, edging, dry humping, name calling
a/n: i hope you enjoy!! make sure to like and follow 🙏🏻 my requests are open, send me anything!
Tumblr media
there's quite a big weight that immediately lifts off your shoulders when your boyfriend and you finally call it quits after contemplating the past few days on your future with each other. there was no malice or hatred between you and him, you've just grown apart through the years.
the two of you lived together, so now you were currently moving out, into your best friends apartment and starting anew. "thank you for letting me stay, i have money saved up so i'll pay half the rent every month," you hug your friend and she pulls back a little. "don't worry about rent, just cook for me and i'll be fine."
you finish packing the last of your things at your now ex-boyfriends house and look around the room you shared years of love together. you let out a deep sigh, leave the house, and put your key under the mat. 
your bestfriend and you go to her apartment, quickly unpacking your items in her spare room, and you plop on her couch when you're finished. "we should go out tonight and meet cute boys," she suggests and you start giggling, shaking your head. "i just ended a 3 year relationship 2 days ago, i'm not looking for another one right now." 
your friend wraps her arms around you, always being this touchy with everyone, so you were used to it. "i'm not saying get in a relationship right away, you need a 'slut phase', it's healthy after breaking up with someone," she huffs, pulling away from your body so she could cross her arms, "i'd actually prefer sleeping around rather than be in a relationship." 
you hum and think on it. the last time you've had sex was months ago due to your schedules being different and your ex never having the time for you, which was one of the reasons for the breakup. 
"okay, but instead of going out, can we have a girls night with our other friends and just scroll through tinder or something?" you pout, not really wanting to socialize with anyone right now. she nods and texts in your friends' group chat, 'slumber party at our apartment, bring snacks.'
during the sleepover, you scroll through tinder not being particularly impressed by anyone so far, but you continue and try to be less picky.
after hours of scrolling, you only found a few that was up to par with your type and one of your friends gasp loudly, making everyone turn their head. “im so stupid!! if you want to experience new things instead of vanilla sex, you should see mingyu!” your best friend claps her hands and grabs your shoulders, “you NEED to visit mingyu, i should’ve suggested it before.”
all the girls seem to know who he is, but you are looking around like a lost puppy, being the only one not knowing the name. “i’ll pay for your first night with him, don’t worry.” one of the other friends say, typing on her phone.
“wait wait wait… who the hell is mingyu?” you finally ask and there is a blush on all of their faces.
“he beds bored women and knows a women’s body better than they do.”
“he’s so sexy.”
“i’ve spent thousands on him when i need to feel something.”
you nod and get quite intimidated at the thought of sleeping with someone besides your ex. “well, what does he look like?” you whisper out and when the phone is turned to you, of his face, your breathe stops for a minute.
your heart was beating fast and hands are clammy just looking at his picture. “how much do you have to pay?” you ask and your friends look at each other. “$100 an hour, $1,000 to spend the night, and a $50 an hour fee for a phone call.” your mouth goes wide and look at them to see if they were pranking you, but their faces showed no indication of joking.
“that’s far too expensive..” you mumble and your best friend shakes her head, “it’s worth it, i promise.” you just simply shrug and your other friend sets up a date for next week, paying the fee.
the nervousness that you felt in your stomach all week only heightened as you walk to the address of mingyu. he said to be there at 5:00 pm but you were running a little late, hopefully he didn’t mind.
at 5:25 pm exactly you follow the instructions that your friend gave you, typing a code on mingyu’s apartment security system. a loud buzzer noise was heard and the door unlocks for you, entering the extravagant apartment.
you walk down a hallway, looking around for the man your friends keep raving about, and finally see a figure sitting in a chair, cross legged.
“mingyu? sorry i’m late-” before you could finish your sentence, the man cuts you off, “it’s mr. mingyu or mr. kim, and you are late, which i don’t like.” he sternly speaks, making your body get chills. “s-sorry..” you whimper out, walking closer to him.
the room was dark and you can’t even see his face, just his body in a suit. he switches on a lamp next to him, looking your body up and down. “you’re forgiven, after all this is your first time to see me. if you do it again you’re going to be punished, got it?” mingyu asks, but you were curious on what kind of punishment he was talking about. “got it?” he again asks, more persistently this time and you nod.
mingyu sighs and stands up from the chair, walking closer to you until you hit the wall behind you. he puts a hand on the wall aggressively next to your head, and the other tracing your cheek skin with his thumb. “you’re quite pretty darling… i wonder why you came to see me.”
a puddle of wetness was soon forming in your panties at his hand touching your skin, he seemed to know how to handle your body even though he’s only touched your cheek so far. “i just broke up with someone, needed more experience.” you mutter out and mingyu hums, leaning down to kiss your cheek where he was rubbing.
“it says you’re open to anything sexually on your invoice, so i’m going to assume there’s no rules?” he asks looking at his phone and you shake your head, “no sir.” when mingyu hears the name his lip curls, still looking at your invoice. “we have 3 hours together, let’s have some fun.”
you were so nervous about what he was about to do to you but it was also thrilling, the only sex you’ve ever known was missionary and it only lasted 5 minutes maximum.
mingyu walks the both of you to his bed where he had a plethora of toys on a side table next to the bed, making you gulp. “lay down pet, i’ll take good care of you.” his voice was so low it made your skin cover with goosebumps.
“i am very kinky, i pride myself on being able to make a woman cum on command. i don’t like kissing on the lips or using my dick, so everything i do to you will be from my fingers, mouth, or the various toys.” mingyu introduces and you nod, finding it weird he won’t be having actual sex with you.
“if it’s too much for you, we can have a safe word if you’d like, i usually go with grapefruit.” mingyu continued and you just nod again, “that’s fine.”
you watch as the man walks to your side of the bed, managing to take off your shirt and also unclip your bra at the same time, taking both of the pieces off skillfully. you were astonished at his fingers and he sees you looking impressed, chuckling to himself.
you were now left in panties and skirt, squeezing your thighs together gently at the puddle still building in your underwear. mingyu grabs your boobs in his hands, giving them a big squeeze, your body jolting at his roughness.
he leans in to give your neck kisses while he lifts up your skirt, letting your panties be visible to him. mingyu teases you by trailing a finger down your body, dragging it painfully slow, past your belly button and to the top of your pantie line.
his pace never fastens as he enters his long fingers inside your panties, his middle finger rubbing slow circles around your clit. the noise you made when he touched you was foreign, never feeling something so pleasurable.
you hear a low chuckle come from his mouth when you moan and squirm in his arms so he would give you more. “be patient baby girl.” mingyu murmured in your ear, sending chills down your back. “i’ll take my time with you.”
you restlessly lay while he rubs your clit with two fingers now, building speed with every circle he does over your bean.
your body jerks and moans slip out, bucking your hips gently. “damn, how needy are you?” mingyu teases, dragging a finger down your folds, “you’re so wet Y/N.” you moan, biting down hard on your lip when he enters a finger inside your tight pussy.
“take off the rest of your clothes, i want to play with you.” he commands, standing to pick up a few toys off his table.
you look over as you were undressing, seeing him holding a vibrator, dildo, and handcuffs. you gulp down the knot stuck in your throat, nervous for what was about to come.
“lay spread eagle, im going to cuff you.” you nod and do as instructed, your arms and legs spreading wide for him. he tightens the cuffs around your limbs, giving your clit a kiss once he’s done and grabs the vibrator.
mingyu turns it on low, dragging it up and down your pussy, making your body already spasm. the movements of the feeling of it rest on your clit was so erotic, you’ve never owned one and you didn’t know it felt this good.
“why are you holding your moans? tell me how good i make you feel.” he whispers, looking up at you through his eyelashes and you nod, letting the breathe you didn’t know you were holding, out. you never dirty talked before or had it done to you so it made you shy when you hear his voice.
“i’m going to use this next,” mingyu states, holding up the biggest dildo you’ve ever seen. you gulp again, the girth was bigger than your forearm and you stutter, “i-is that going to fit in me?” he chuckles at your innocence and nods, giving your pussy a hard slap, making you moan loud. “it’ll fit perfectly.”
you relax and look down at him rubbing your juices on the tip, teasing your hole before sliding the dildo in you. the vibrator was still buzzing on your clit when he did this and you instantly cum without meaning to. you let out the biggest yell of the night, gripping the headboard under your restriced wrists.
mingyu smirks to himself, knowing you just came, and pushes the dildo further inside you. he didn’t expect to let you leave here with just one orgasm.
you became more comfortable with moaning, yelling his name at times and he gives your clit a slap every time you didn’t say “mr. mingyu.”
he finally enters the dildo inside you fully, sitting up so he could roughly thrust it in and out of you, never missing your soft spot with every move. “f-fuck, i’m cumming again.” you yell out, arching your back.
he took this as a chance to tease you, pulling the dildo out of you quickly, seeing your hole tighten when he removed the toy. he also pulls the vibrator off your clit then stands to uncuff you, watching you pant and shake from the pleasure.
mingyu stands above you, picking you up and positioning you to doggy style, engulfing your pussy in his mouth. “you taste so sweet, best pussy i’ve ever eaten.” he was being truthful whether you knew it or not, he enjoyed tasting you on his tongue.
there was a strange feeling in his pants he’s never felt with any of his other dates, he was growing a hard on by your moans. “can you please stick a finger in?” you ask pitifully, turning around to look at him with a dirty smirk he hasn’t seen yet.
mingyu clears his throat and adjusts his pants, trying to get any kind of pressure on his dick he could. “say the magic word.” he gets back in his character, teasing your hole with his finger but not entering it until you say please.
you continue to look at him and push your ass backwards so his finger enters, he was stunned but it was so hot. you continue to move your ass and fuck his finger, not needing his help.
mingyu pulls his finger away and stands up, pressing his bulge to your ass, giving you a hard slap. he slowly grinds against you which he’s never done before, giving you two more slaps, making your ass red.
“you seem hard sir, do you think you should slide your big dick inside me?” you ask, already knowing he didn’t fuck his clients.
mingyu pulls his hips away, throwing you on your back so he can see your face. “you’re such a slut.” he groans, lifting your legs up as high as they could go. “you want me to fuck you this badly?” he asks looking down at your wetness leaking on his sheets.
“yes i want you to fill me up sir.” you whimper, grabbing your sensitive boobs in your hands, squeezing on them hard. even you were surprised by your actions but he uncovered a secret freak inside you didn’t know was there.
mingyu hesitates before unbuckling his belt, there was something about you that made him want to feel your walls around him. even if girls before begged, he never fucked them.
“come to the end of the bed and suck my dick.” he commands and you crawl to his standing body, helping him take off his pants. “i’ve never done this before, so you have to teach me.” you smirk, gripping his big dick his your small hand.
when mingyu hears this he takes your hand that was wrapped around him, spitting on it, “jerk.” you nod, getting more wet at the feeling of his spit on you.
your hand goes up and down on his dick, jerking with a hard grip on him. without being asked, you lean down and spit on his tip, mixing his precum with your spit, going back to jerk him fast.
the sight of you jerking him made his dick grow bigger and you lean down slowly kissing his tip. he throws his head back and moans lowly, the sound making you take him all in your mouth.
you bob your head up and down on his dick, laying your tongue flat on the bottom of it, “you sure you haven’t done this before?” mingyu asks between moans with a laugh, your cheeks turning red.
he grabs the sides of your head, slowly starting to thrust in your mouth, making you gag. he was encouraged by your gags, gradually going faster.
saliva was dripping out of your mouth as mingyu slams harder in your throat, giving you no mercy as he slams. “you like this baby girl? you got me to fuck your whore mouth.” he grunts, starting to sweat at his hairline.
you moan against him, sending vibrations and he gives one last hard slam before pulling out of your mouth, the spit dripping down your chin. “so sexy.” he whispers, laying on his back and jerking himself at the sight of you.
“come ride me.”
“yes sir.” you say hoarsely, straddling his waist and looking down at half of his suit still on. you pull the tie off slowly and grind against him, making him give you an ass slap.
“what did i say?” mingyu asks, bucking up his hips underneath you, slapping you again when you ignore him.
“i want to see your beautiful chest sir.” you pout, unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt purposely slow. he grunts and grabs your waist, letting you grind fast on his aching cock.
after you successfully take off his shirt, you lean down, kissing his neck and chest. your liquids now fully covered his dick with your grinds and he lifts you up, slamming into you without warning. “fuck mingyu!!” you yell and he slaps your ass hard, banging his hips up into you fast.
the fast movements made you tighten around him, and you started bouncing on him in the same rhythm as his thrusts. you grab your boobs and throw your head back, the feeling of your clit rubbing against his lower abdomen making you cum soon.
“i’m close sir, can i cum?” you ask, kissing his neck more and leaving hickeys. mingyu hums with pleasure, both of you keeping your fast pace.
“cum with me.” he commands and you whimper, not knowing when he’d cum. you hold it in as long as you can but start shaking when he teases you by rubbing your clit.
you stop your movements and fall into his neck when he fucks you, the pleasure getting too intense.
he kisses your ear and you can hear his grunts, “cum now.” he whispers, slapping your ass again, your body spasming ontop of him, and let out another yell that came out as a cry.
mingyu groans just as loud, feeling his warm cum shoot inside your pussy, you follow his lead and cum around him. he feels you tighten your walls around him and moans, his dick sensitive from the orgasm.
you lay on his chest, dick still inside you, heavy breathing in his neck. “that was the best sex i’ve ever had.” you whisper in his ear and he nods, rubbing your butt slowly in his hand. “me too baby.”
you blush at him, nuzzling your head in his sweaty neck, “you do this as a job, there’s no way i was the best.” you laugh and he kisses your head softly, “it really was, i dont get to use my dick often.”
you blush more and look up at mingyu’s red and wet face, “my 3 hours is over, thank you for today.”
he grabs your waist so you couldn’t get up and lays your head back in neck. “i think you have a few more hours.” his eyes were closed and he was murmuring so you knew he was tired, as were you.
you giggle softly, “are you going to fall asleep inside me?” he nods, grabbing a blanket and putting it over the two of you. “you can get free services from now on.” he whispers and you knew he would be a long, pleasurable fuck buddy.
2K notes · View notes
hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 2 years ago
Note
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Not me hitting tag limit kjhggfggjk.
Congrats on 3k!! You deserve it sooo much💌
If you have the time (and only if you have the time!) I would like to request a sort of a short bullet point fic. Or more so just your thoughts on the following: moving in with seventeen. Who is the one that labels every box? Who will live out of moving boxes for the next year. And yeah, just overall the vibes of new beginnings and promises😶‍🌫️
Pls only do write something if any of this inspires anything, if not pls don't feel burdened to write anyway!
I love your writing, so once again: congrats on the succes💗
seungcheol thinks it's one huge adventure. yes, he will be the person lifting the stupidly heavy boxes at the store. yes, he will make it a competition to build furniture as fast as possible (and race to take it all apart when you discover the desk legs are all different lengths because someone thought he could figure it out without the manual). even among the graveyard of boxes and bubble wrap and those huge styrofoam slabs he keeps chasing you with, seungcheol is happiest to lay with you on your bare, naked mattress (because he forgot to order sheets). he's planning what pictures of the two of you he wants to put on the walls. this is the first time he's owned a welcome mat and he's not even mad about it. it's all yours, together, and there's no bigger adventure than that.
his walk-in closet. bowls the perfect size for a portion of ramen, plus an egg. the lego taj mahal with two pieces missing that he insists will turn up sometime. these are some of the things jeonghan's not sure he can bring to your new apartment. it's not that he doesn't want to move in with you--he just doesn't know if he can. hell, you kissed him for the first time on the tiny futon in his living room, and he just learned it's too small for your new place. it's not until he watches you, later that day, play jenga with the toiletries on his bathroom counter because there's never been enough space for the two of you, that he realizes maybe it isn't such a bad thing to try something new. he imagines leaning you against a new sink, with that carrara marble you've been talking about, and he might even say he's looking forward to it.
you don't think there's a day you haven't seen joshua on zillow. look at my pinterest board, he'd say, and you wouldn't have it in you to ask how the hell you're affording that couch or if you really need a salt lamp that badly. you've lost count of the times your thursday nights consisted of a: your favorite chinese takeout and b: watching celebrity architectural digest videos. but joshua can't help it--to him, there's really nothing that would make him happier than waking up next to you in a bed you picked together. now if it was a midcentury modern canopy bed? even better. he can't wait to use his fancy little espresso machine to make your morning latte and grab your coat from the rack you got from that shop in LA before he kisses you before you head off to work. but they're all just things (pretty, shiny ones, albeit)--more ways he can show you the love you deserve.
junhui loves a good open house. early on in your relationship, you would dress to the nines before pretending to shop for a mansion you could never afford. junhui would comment on the door handles and the crown molding like he was a property brother, and then you'd finish the night off making out in the mcdonald's drive-thru. things are a little different now that you actually can afford a home. what if you end up not liking it? will you get tired of the wallpaper? will the closet be big enough? but surprisingly, none of this seems to matter when you walk into the house. (what's on your mind? you ask him. n-nothing, he says.) but he's really thinking about feeding you in that kitchen and spending the morning looking out those bay windows. how beautiful you'll look greeting him from that front door. needless to say, he's sold.
you find soonyoung hiding in the kitchen at your housewarming party. just an hour earlier, he was dumping cans of sparkling water in the jungle juice to make it more "adult" (as if it would erase the fact that an entire bottle of everclear had already disappeared into the mix). the hour before that, he was cleaning like a madman despite there not being much to clean yet. he held the duster the wrong way and you think he got more windex on the ceiling than on the windows. darling, what's wrong? you ask. his little, drunken hands wrap around yours so he can bring them to his cheeks. i just realized this is all ours. like, all of it, he wails, teary, and you realize he is far too many drinks down. it's only after you've sent him to bed with a water and a kiss that you really think about what he said. the hardwood floors, the duvet, the misshapen tiger plushie on the couch, him--all ours.
wonwoo is not an easy person to live with. the first three things he unpacked were, in order, his table, his first monitor, then his second monitor. then he ruined your perfectly curated aesthetic with his neon red keyboard and a gaming chair that would make any interior designer cry. the final straw is when wonwoo manages to kill the one and only houseplant you have, the single thing holding your home decor together. but he's trying, he really is. he's bought a silly little throw blanket for your couch (aren't the tassels fun? he says, wiggling the fabric between his hands). his ugly lamp has been replaced by a strange glowing cat light and there's a sticker on his computer tower. he buys a succulent and you have a little naming ceremony in your kitchen. and it lives, against all odds!
jihoon doesn't know the difference between a chaise and a sectional. cherry and mahogany look the same to him. and god forbid you ask him to choose between terrazzo and subway tile because he really thinks both of them look good and, no, he's not just saying that to make your life harder. jihoon isn't good at the hgtv stuff, but he's happy to move all the boxes. it's only when he's unpacking said boxes that he finally gets it. (the vase that came with the first bouquet of flowers he bought you. the record player you got him for your first anniversary, now fingerprinted, well-loved. matching valentine's day teddy bears, worn and baby pink.) you're standing on a stool stacked on top of another stool trying to hang a poster, and this is what home looks like.
seokmin wants to live in the ikea showrooms. you can't blame him--sometimes, when there's nothing better to do, you'll spend your afternoon in a bedroom that's not yours. seokmin will try on the lumpy blazer from the closet, and you'll beckon him to your sprawling king size bed, the one sat next to the painted on windows and floating shelves. honey, come to dinner, you'd say. he'll peek over your shoulder, arms wrapped around your middle, and you open the lid to a big, steaming pot of nothing. micke or lagkapten? you ask, completely unseriously. but he's thinking about it, really thinking about it. in his mind, he's building a home together, silly furniture piece by piece, counting down to the days when you really can agonize over plants and how many drawers you want in a desk.
when you got the keys to your new place, mingyu insisted you eat jajangmyeon to commemorate move-in day. unfortunately, he failed to account for the series of delays that led to you having absolutely no furniture to move in on said move-in day. but mingyu is nothing if not a man with a plan, so he runs to the store and buys the cheapest assortment of kitchen tools and ingredients for the world's most unlikely dinner. we really don't have to do this, you laugh, the backs of your legs cold on the kitchen counter. but i want to, he insists, holding out a spoon for you to taste. we have to christen the apartment. you eventually do christen it the right way (involving: lots of tongue, even more laughter), but you might prefer, just a tiny bit, the night you sat on the empty kitchen floor and fed mingyu out of a pan.
minghao has rearranged the living room four times now. every time you walk in, it feels like you've entered someone else's house. it doesn't look right, he says, hands on his hips like his life depended on it. you don't know how to tell him they all look right, every single version. in the first version, all cardboard furniture and plastic wrap, you gave up on deciphering the wifi setup and built a fort instead. the second involved an ottoman in the walkway, which you almost immediately stubbed your toe on (and laughed so hard you cried). in the third, the couch faced away from the adjoining room, and you accidentally spooked minghao so badly he almost broke his knitting needles. but it's all perfect, every iteration, because you're doing it together--a hypothesis he's more willing to believe when you shut him up with a kiss.
don't look now, but seungkwan is buying another doodad at your local sunday swap meet. it's a small painted figurine of a bear in a nightcap, which he simply points to and says that's me. you don't have it in you to mention the fact that you're currently unpacking his seemingly never-ending assortment of doodads and you couldn't possibly know where one more would go. it's only when you're getting ready for bed that you catch the little bear in the glow of the alarm clock light. there's already a turtle with a hat in the medicine cabinet (jeju, last summer). on top of the fridge, a woodcarving that says EAT. (tj maxx, 2 years ago. it still makes you laugh). even though you just moved, all these little seungkwan-isms make home a little more home.
you wouldn't call vernon a planner. his version of housewarming is watching you play the sims. but real life doesn't have nearly as much poolside drama or five story houses--just packing peanuts and 50 page appliance manuals. aren't boxes just drawers? vernon asked you one day. no, but that's how it always starts. two weeks after move-in, vernon cooks you breakfast with a pan procured from a cardboard box. by three weeks, you know the exact box everything is in. (you still haven't been able to find vernon's avril lavigne let go album, though.) it's only when you're eating dinner on top of the box that your dining table is in when you say, vernon, baby, i think we need to actually move in. he takes one look at you, who's wearing mismatched socks and his boxers because your shorts are underneath the tv box, and his smile nearly splits his cheeks. yeah, i think so too.
if you had asked chan what his dream house looked like, he would say it had a wraparound porch, a white picket fence, and a pool. your new apartment has none of those things. the length of your bedroom is a little more than one and a half times the length of his body and he's not even that tall. if he looks out the window he can see right into his neighbor's apartment (three cats and no bitches. almost like he's living next to wonwoo). and his feet stick out of the tub. but he's learning how to live in small spaces. he likes the squeeze of your bathroom, how you have to sit on the counter if you want to both brush your teeth together. he likes the bump of your elbows when you wash the dishes together. most of all, he likes falling asleep with you slotted to his side--even in your tiny bed, he wouldn't mind having you a little closer.
#seventeen fluff#lily <3#oh i am so all over the place after reading this#why would you make me yearn like this?#bye i knew as soon as i read cheol's that these would destroy me#he would be the type to show off trying lift the heaviest boxest and make unpacking a (loving) contest#from one competitive person to another i get him though#why did jeonghan's make me so emotional#oh the type of love that pushes you out of your comfort zone </3 lily you are so evil for this#reading these made me realise that i am in fact josh lmao#shoutout to teenage me and my 600 pinterest boards with my dream homes and aesthetics lmao#kkjhggffghjk ngl soonyoung's might be my favourite or atleast among my favourites#i can *see* his flushed teary eyed face clear as day in my mind#gah him caring so much about your shared home and making sure it stays preserved 🥺#i am also wonwoo kjhhggjk listen i think the clashing aesthetics could be cute!!!#JIHOON'S IS ALSO ONE OF MY FAVOURITES PLEASE GOD I LOVE THE TYPES OF PEOPLE WHO KNOW FUCK ALL ABOUT SOMETHING BUT DO EARNESTLY TRY TO#PARTAKE AND SHARE THEIR OPINIONS#i also want to say i love how you've injected their personalities into all of these#like yeah i can totally see seokmin being the type to goofily roleplay coming home tp you and mingyu being the type to pout and make sure#you two break in your apartment “properly” lol#minghao just gave me flashbacks to my mother kkjhgffhkk the way our living room layout would change monthly#SEUNGKWAN'S#i love love people who inject themselves and what they love into their homes#i am actually a mixture of him wonwoo and josh somehow#bye why would you make Vernon's so domestic and soft and loving? I AM LONELY LILY YOU DON'T NEED TO ADD SALT TO THE WOUND yada yada i love#people who love each other simply existing with each other yada yada#i just want you to know dino's almost made me cry#i feel so much for him it's so fucking embarrassing#anyways our home has flaws but they don't matter because they make it unique and ours and everything is okay because it's the home we share#WHAT. IF. I. JUST. FUCKING. DIE?
166 notes · View notes
agaypanic · 9 months ago
Text
His Good Girl (Carlisle Cullen X Vampire!Wife!Reader Smut)
Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Request Something! | AO3
Kinktober Day 3: Praise Kink
Summary: For your one hundredth wedding anniversary, Carlisle takes you to a cabin in the mountains away from your children and the prying eyes of Forks citizens. The days are beautiful, but the nights are far more pleasurable.
A/N: ignore that im posting day 3 on the 23rd…. Im so behind omfg ANYWAYS i know vampires technically cant get hard or probably cum or wtv bc they don’t have bloodflow but this is a kinktober fic so idgaf. i know a thousand years is in twilight soundtrack, but i like the song and think it fits so pretend it/christina perri exists in this universe. Tbh this feels more like a real fic than a kinktober fic (not saying kinktober fics aren’t real fics. I just feel like kinktober stuff really focuses on the sex/kink and i feel like this is more of a fluff that ends in smut)
C/W: oral (fem!receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex (they're vampires so they cant get pregnant or diseases but wrap it before you tap it), praise kink, body worship, rough sex
***
“Carlisle, dear, I can pack my own suitcase.” But you did nothing to stop him from meticulously folding your clothes and putting them in your bag. Instead, you sat on the edge of the bed and watched him work. 
Your husband looked up, a smile appearing on his lips. “And yet, you sit and watch me pack it for you.”
“What can I say?” You said with a shrug. “I like watching your skilled hands be put to work.”
“Oh really?” Carlisle seemed to suddenly forget the task he was previously so focused on. He walked over to you, letting the cold hands you loved so much cup your face gently. “Just wait for this weekend. Then you’ll really see how skillful they are.”
You giggle, pulling at his waist and leaning up to kiss him. “I can’t wait.”
It wasn’t long before you were finished loading up the car and ready to leave. Carlisle had to practically drag you away when your goodbyes with the kids went on a little too long. But you couldn’t help it. Not only did you love your children dearly, but you needed to give them all (mainly Emmett and Edward) to behave while you and Carlisle were gone. Although they were tremendously older than their young adult bodies, they sometimes acted just as recklessly as teenagers. 
The drive to the cabin was long and peaceful. Carlisle let you handle the music, and although he kept his eyes on the road, he smiled at the sight of you passionately singing along with every song out of the corner of his eyes. 
You arrived in the afternoon, and your husband insisted on carrying your bags inside for you, allowing you to wander around the cabin you came to for special occasions. It followed a less modern aesthetic, mainly because getting a good internet connection so far from civilization was a little difficult. It reminded you of when you were first married to Carlisle.
“Why don’t you pick out a record?” Carlisle said from the bedroom, raising his voice a little so you could hear him down the hall, despite your enhanced hearing. 
You walked over to the small shelf that was filled to the brim with different genres and eras of music. You opted for something more modern, so you pulled out a Christina Perri vinyl and put it on the player.
The first track was one that you knew all too well, and it seemed Carlisle remembered it just as well when it hit his ears. Deciding that unpacking could wait, he left the bedroom and approached you. When he got close enough to grab you, he started leading you in a slow dance around the living room. And when Christina sang about loving someone for a thousand years, Carlisle kissed you deeply before making a comment about how he couldn’t wait for the thousand-year mark.
***
When your anniversary came the next day, you and Carlisle didn’t do much. Besides being slightly more affectionate than usual and exchanging presents, it seemed like a normal day for you two. But you cherished it like any other day you spent with your husband. 
The only time Carlisle strayed from you today was to go outside and hunt for dinner. He came back in record time with two wine glasses filled with red liquid and a few smudges around his mouth that he let you kiss off. Ushering you to the couch in front of the lit fireplace, he handed you a glass and used his now free hand to hold you close to him.
“To you, my dear.” Carlisle toasted, holding his glass up to you.
“And to you, darling.” You added, clinking his cup with your own. “To a hundred years.”
“And a hundred more.”
Hours had passed without you knowing. You were too wrapped up in Carlisle’s presence, the way he stroked your arm while he listened to you talk about whatever came to your mind. 
Eventually, your glasses were empty, and Carlisle set them on the small table in front of you before cuddling you again. You leaned into his touch, breathing his scent in. “I love your hands.” You muttered against his neck. The hands in question were either holding yours or gently massaging you.
“Oh, yeah?” He smiled, and you nodded. “You wanna see what else they can do?”
It felt like a switch had flipped, and suddenly, you were straddling your husband and kissing him like you’d been starved for a hundred years. He kissed back with the same sentiment, hands roaming and groping your body.
Carlisle broke away the slightest bit to speak. “As much as I’d love to take you right here, why don’t we move to the bedroom?” Without waiting for a response, he stood up, carrying you down the hall like it was nothing. You clung to him, kissing and lightly nipping at his neck.
When he reached the bedroom, Carlisle softly set you on the bed and started kissing you again. He towered over you, caging you in with his limbs.
But kissing, although very enjoyable, wasn’t enough for him. His hands started to roam again, and he began to play with the hem of your shirt. “May I?” He asked against your lips, and you nodded furiously. Carlisle peeled the shirt off of your body, and your bra was off soon after.
Without warning, he broke away from you. You were about to protest when his mouth latched onto your nipple, flicking it with his tongue. You moaned at the sensation, running a hand through his once pristine hair. He made sure to give the same treatment to the other.
“So beautiful.” He muttered, squeezing your tits with his hands and running his cold thumbs over your now stiff nipples. You mewled and arched your back. God, the things this man did to you. “So perfect.”
“Carlisle.” You whined. You couldn’t take anymore waiting, you needed him now. In desperation, you started moving your hips to try and rut against his thigh. He allowed it, giving attention to your breasts a little while longer while you used him to ease your need. But his thigh wasn’t enough. “Carlisle, come on.”
He looked up at you with a caring but mischievous look. “What’s the magic word?”
“Carlisle!”
“Nope.” The man smirked, slowly trailing kisses down your stomach and stopping at the waistband of your pants. “Come on, dear. Where are your manners?”
“Please!” You cried out.
Carlisle swiftly started to unbutton your pants, tugging them down your legs. “There’s my good girl.” The little nickname just made you even wetter. Carlisle took off your panties, leaving you entirely bare for him. He stared down at you, taking in the image. He sighed, seemingly lost in thought. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”
Ready to ravage you, Carlisle started to crawl on the bed towards you. But before he could get to the place he wanted most, you put your foot on his chest to stop him. A hand shot up to caress your ankle, and Carlisle started to worry that he was moving too fast for you without realizing it.
“Maybe you should take your clothes off too?” You suggested, giggling at his sigh of relief. Carlisle dropped your foot and stood up again, stripping in front of you. He did so as fast as possible without using superspeed, knowing you were desperate for him but would still enjoy the show.
“Better?”
“Better.”
You sat up, his stiff cock now at your eyeline. You reached out, wanting to grasp it, suck it, whatever he would let you do.
But Carlisle grabbed your wrist. “Now, what do you think you’re doing?” He asked, tone light enough to indicate that he wasn’t upset or serious.
“I want you to enjoy yourself.” You answer with a shrug. “It’s your anniversary too, you know.”
“You want me to enjoy myself?” He asked, gently pushing you until you were lying on your back. You nodded. “Then be a good girl and spread your legs.”
A tingle went down your spine at the command, and you immediately did as told. Carlisle grasped your ankles to keep your legs separated. He stared at your pussy, mouth watering at the thought of tasting you. He inched closer to you, hands running up your legs.
He didn’t waste another second. Carlisle pushed at your thighs to bring them to your chest and dove into your pussy, licking a broad strip through your slit before latching onto your clit. He groaned at the taste of you, sending chilling vibrations through your body. One of his hands splayed out at the back of your knees to keep your legs up, and he used his now free hand to prod at your entrance.
“You’re so wet, honey.” He cooed as he slipped a finger in, soon adding another. Carlisle began fucking you slowly, hooking his fingers on your g-spot and flicking at your clit with his tongue.
“More.” You moaned, squeezing his fingers. “Want your cock, Carlisle.”
Your husband tsked, taking his mouth off of you but continuing his ministrations. “Not til you come on my fingers, Y/n. You know the rules. I don’t want to hurt you.”
You whined, wanting nothing more than to be stretched and filled to the brim by your husband’s cock. But it warmed your cold heart that he was still cautious with you. 
“Then make me come.” You begged.
Carlisle took it as a personal challenge to make you finish as quickly as possible. He usually liked to take his time with you, but you were desperate. So Carlisle quickened his pace, added a third finger, flicked and sucked at your clit, and soon enough you were falling apart. You stiffened and let out a choked moan as Carlisle helped you ride out your high.
While catching your breath, Carlisle withdrew his fingers from you and cleaned your juices off with his tongue. The sound that came from him was almost animalistic. He looked at you as if you were his prey. “You’re so delicious.” He said, licking the remnants of your cum off of his hand. The way he was looking down on you made you even wetter.
Usually, Carlisle liked to start nice and slow, giving you time to adjust to his size before he began ramming into you. But tonight, he couldn’t control himself. He grabbed himself, swiping the tip of his penis through your slick folds to collect more of your juices before prodding your entrance and bottoming out in one swift motion. 
Then he started fucking you.
You were beyond grateful that you were staying in a cabin in the middle of the mountains because if someone were around, they would’ve thought you were being murdered. The headboard banged against the wall with the force Carlisle was using to fuck you. He held onto the backs of your knees, keeping your legs pinned to your chest and giving you shocks of pleasure with every hard thrust.
It was all too much, but in the best way. Carlisle fucking you roughly at an angle that you knew would make it difficult to walk for a while, despite you usually being able to recover from rough sex quickly. With the way Carlisle was acting right now, his panting and almost growling sounds, and his nails digging into your skin, you knew he wouldn’t be satisfied after one round.
“So good.” Carlisle groaned, leaning down to kiss at your neck. You pulled at Carlisle’s hair to try and ground yourself, but you were too far gone with the overwhelming pleasure. “Are you gonna come?”
“Uh-huh.” It came out as a high-pitched squeal, and Carlisle smiled.
“You can do it, honey.” While speaking, he snaked a hand down to rub at your clit, pace as rough and furious as his thrusts. “Want you to come. Be a good girl for me; go ahead.” 
It was like Carlisle had some kind of control over your body. As soon as the words left his mouth, you found your release. It was one of the most intense orgasms you had ever had. You were a bit surprised that you didn’t accidentally pull out Carlisle’s hair from how hard you were gripping the strands.
Carlisle continued fucking you at his rough pace, making you shake and cry out in pleasure. He didn’t stop, seemingly very focused on now reaching his own peak. The way your cunt gripped his cock certainly helped, and not long after you, he was shooting ropes of cum inside you, keeping up his thrusts to fuck it into you.
When he came down from his high, his movements slowed to a stop. He delicately moved your legs off your chest to lay on the bed, massaging any possible sore spots he may have given you.
“Was I too rough?” He asked, seemingly in a clearer headspace now.
You shook your head, reaching up to caress his face. “I liked it.” Carlisle sighed in relief, leaning down to kiss you. “Maybe we can do it again? Like, now?”
He laughed at your eagerness. “How about in five minutes?” He wrapped you up in his arms before flipping you over so you were lying on his chest. His cock was still hard inside you, filling you nicely. “I want to lay with my wife for a while.”
“I won’t argue with that.” You said, snuggling into Carlisle’s bare chest. “Happy anniversary, Carlisle.”
“Happy anniversary, Y/n.”
***
Twilight Taglist: @wedfan2 @natashamaximoff-69 @pink-hufflepuff
1K notes · View notes
no-144444 · 10 months ago
Text
the break up of the century - (l.norris, no 4)
----------------
Tumblr media
----------------
pairing: lando norris (no.4) x fem! singer! reader
summary: you and lando break up on horrible terms, can a new album and a special performance bring you back together? is that even what you two want?
7.6k + words, brief fade-to-black smut, fluff, mainly angst :)
----------------
You weren’t sure how it happened, one moment you were on stage, the next, you were crying in your dressing room, hating every single thing about your life. Funny how one moment leads into the next, right? 
Y/n Y/l/n. Household name at the age of 19. Now, 23. Fans impatiently awaiting your next album, the album you hated, and now on a world tour that is sucking the life from your body. 
Sounds like you have it all. 
The money, the fame, the clothes, the boys, the voice. It’s all you’ve ever dreamed of. And now it means nothing, because you have it. And it’s nowhere near as good as you wanted it to be.
You’d always been told of the horror stories of fame taking more than it gave, and you always brushed it off with a smile and a ‘that’ll never happen to me’. Low and behold, you’ve had 4 stalkers in 2 years, 3 lawsuits against you from old record companies that dropped you, 2 grammys, and 1 ridiculously public break-up with he-who-shall-not-be-named. 
Having it all really means having too much to think about, and too much to deal with. You would’ve preferred to just go to university like all your friends. Be young. Make mistakes. But those were luxuries you took for granted, and now you’re paying the price. 
“Y/n?” Sasha, your manager called from outside. “We have the meet and greet.”
And then there was your fans. They were great, obviously, but they were also very hyper teenagers and young adults that paid a lot of money to see you, and it made you feel even worse about not being 100%. At least you’d cut ticket prices down by 50% in meetings, meaning they were much cheaper than any other artist at the moment. At least you could do that for your fans. 
You nodded, sniffling as you wiped your eyes on the sleeve of your dress. 
“Do you need your makeup touched up?”
“Yes,” you answered, voice hoarse. “How many more shows?” 
“This was your 97th. You have 53 left.”
“Fuck!” You groaned. “Fuck this.”
“You have the British Gran Prix tomorrow, you have to make an appearance, alright? I’m sending Maria in to fix your makeup,” Sasha was trying to pity you, but she also had a job to do, which you understood. 
“Thanks Sash,” you sighed as Maria came in. 
“Hey babe,” she smiled softly, sympathy and pity shown in her eyes. 
“Hi,” you sniffled, wiping your last tear away. 
“Let’s get you fixed up, yeah?” She started unpacking her bag with all your makeup as you nodded, turning to face her. “You’re amazing. You were so pretty tonight.”
You somehow didn’t scoff in her face. “Thanks.”
“I know you don’t believe me,” she sighed. “I can’t even understand why. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”
You hiccupped, the tears threatening to pour again as you thought about him. 
“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”
Stop thinking about him. You told yourself. He’s in the past.
But he wasn’t in the past, how could he be when he was always on your fucking feed with his new girlfriend. Allison and Lando, what a beautiful couple. More like a bunch of crap. They weren’t real, everyone knew it was just pr, especially considering that she was promoting her new racing movie. You had no idea why they even tried to keep up the charade. They didn’t even look good together. 
Alas, they were together, and you weren’t anymore. 
And you were going to be reminded of it every single second of the next day. 
----------------
You pressed your entry card to the barrier and walked through as cameras flashed and you smiled one of your best fake smiles.
“Y/n!” Oscar smiled, walking up and hugging you. You knew everyone, and you started to feel embarrassed about everything. This was his workplace, and you had to be here to do press and sing a song you didn’t want to sing.
Bullshit.
“Hey Osc,” you smiled, hugging him back. 
“You look so wonderful today,” he smiled, taking your hand instead. He led you to the McLaren paddock as you two chatted about tour and races. You asked about Miami, and Oscar answered. “It was the best day of his life- his words!” 
“Meeting you was the best day of my life. That’ll never change.”
Oh. I guess it changed. 
“How's the tour? It looks amazing!” He cheered as you two entered the paddock. Mechanics and engineers greeting and hugging you as you went through and lied about how ‘amazing’ the tour is. 
“Y/n!” Zak cheered. “My favourite girl!”
He pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, and you hugged back. It felt good to be back, and to still have so many people still like you. “Hi Zak.”
“I missed you so much! Please tell me that awful Allison girl is gone and you and Lan are back? She’s driving me crazy,” he scoffed.
“No, I’m just here to do some press with Ferrari,” you chuckled. “But I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to come see my favourite CEO.”
He sighed but nodded, knowing that Lando had the board cut you off the ‘influencer list’ when you two broke up. “Well, once you know that you’re my favourite.”
“You’re my favourite too,” you smiled. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“Lips are sealed,” he smiled and moved on, going about his various duties. For a moment you looked around the paddock you had known so well and felt your heart ache a little. You loved Lando, you still loved Lando. You loved McLaren, and you loved the people here, yet you didn’t get to see them anymore because of the stupid fucking tour. This tour was ruining your life. You didn’t talk to family, or friends, you and Lando had broken up, you weren’t eating or sleeping, you always felt sick, you were rarely allowed to speak during the day so you could ‘conserve’ your voice for shows. 
But the worst part was that nobody noticed. 
“He's right y’know,” Oscar  smiled. “We all miss you. Even Lando.”
“Lando is with Allison. He has no reason to miss me.”
Oscar raised an eyebrow. “All they do is fight.”
“So? That’s what Lando and I did for weeks.”
“But it was different. You two were in a bad situation, but you loved each other, so the fights meant something. Allison and Lan are just wrong for each other, they’re fighting to fight.”
You groaned, sitting on the bench and resting your head in your hands. “When did you become a philosopher?”
Oscar laughed, and placed a hand on your back. “I’ve always been this philosophical, you were just too busy to notice.” 
“Shut up,” you chuckled, pushing him off. 
“All I’m saying is that you should talk to him, that’s all,” he shrugged, walking away from you and further into the paddock. 
“Y/n.”
Your head snapped up, so hard it hurt. There he was. Lando. For the first time in months. With Allison. And a dog.
Oh. 
“Hi,” you smiled, standing up. It was a puppy, a jack-russell terrier, the kind you’d always wanted. The kind like your childhood dog. Great, now they stole your dog breed. “Nice to see you.”
“I didn’t know you would be here,” he said bluntly. “What are you doing here?”
“Press for Ferrari. Oscar just… brought me in to say hi to everyone. So, hi. And now I’ll take my leave,” you smiled, then started to try and walk off. But Allison clearly had other plans, since she stuck out her hand for a ‘handshake’ that conveniently stopped you from walking off. 
“Allison,” she smirked. “And this is Mila.”
You stared blankly at Lando for a moment. Seriously? He’d taken the dog breed and what you’d agreed to be the name of your first child? Give me a break. 
“Y/n,” you shook her hand. “And I have to go, bye and good luck today.”
Thank god Ferrari was on the other side of the fucking track. 
“Y/n!” Charles cheered, hugging you close. You’d been getting closer with Charles since your split with Lando and his split with his ex had happened within a week of each other. “How are you?”
You took a deep breath. “I’m fine, tired.”
“I have been seeing the tour, it looks great!” he smiled, pulling back. 
“Thanks Charles, it was amazing to see you, but I better go. I have to-”
“Sing the new song? Yes! I can't wait,” he cheered. You mustered up a small smile, and left him alone. 
----------------
Sasha came and found you in the bathroom an hour later. “Y/n?” She was frantic, and stressed, so you just decided to give up and show yourself. 
“Yeah?”
“It’s time, come on,” she sighed. “I know this is hard-”
“How could you know it’s fucking hard? My entire life is in shambles and I’m supposed to be happy about it because I’m a ‘superstar’ what the fuck does that even mean? My boyfriend broke up with me because of this tour, and I thought I was going to marry him. Isn’t that insane? Isn’t that fucking crazy? And the worst part is, that I can’t even stop if I want to. I’m not allowed to stop. Sasha, how could you ever understand how hard this is for me? I’m 22. I should be in college, having fun. But instead I’m about to sing a song I don’t like or care about, in my ex-boyfriends workplace. Does that sound like fun to you, Sasha?” 
Her face was blank, stoic, unmoving. “Let’s go, you have soundcheck.”
You just followed her. Sasha was good at that, good at making you feel small, making you feel like a nuisance. The stage was big, bigger than most of your stadiums, but you didn’t care. You just had to get through it. 
“Have you eaten?”
“Feel sick,” you replied. “No thanks.”
Sasha sighed. “You’re going to faint one day.”
“Let’s hope I never wake up,” you replied dryly. Sasha scoffed and walked on, showing you the layout of the stage. You followed and asked questions, getting into ‘work mode’, and warming up your voice as you went along. A small crowd of the driver’s was gathering, even Lando was standing there, front row, just like he used to. 
You wanted to punch him, in all honesty. How could someone do that? He had no fucking right to stand there and watch you sing. He should be with Allison. 
“Start when you’re ready,” Sasha called and you nodded. 
The music started, and you were off. When the music started, you became someone else. You were moving around, laughing with your band, smiling. It was nice. Even if you hated the tour, you felt free on stage. Even if the song was sad. 
‘Champagne problems’, you’d written it right after your break up with Lando, it was new, and it had just been released. It had become the top of the charts in 15 countries. It would be on your next album, 
‘What if it doesn’t get easier like everybody says?’, and it was your most raw album. It was clearly all about your break up with Lando, there was no denying that. 
The song ended and the entire track clapped. You stopped moving when you spotted Lando’s parents, and you realised very quickly that you had to get out of there. 
You ran to the Ferrari hospitality, did some promos for your next album with them, and suddenly it was time to sing for real. The stands were full, the microphone was on, and the spotlight was on you. 
“Hi everyone,” you smiled, and the crowd erupted in cheering. “How are we feeling today?”
You had worn a short red dress, for Ferrari, and it was sparkling in the late afternoon sunshine. Everyone could see how beautiful you looked. Your hair perfectly styled, your makeup flawless, your beautiful face. 
Lando was entranced. 
You started singing and you sounded like an angel, truely. Lando had always thought you sounded otherworldly. He knew it was about him. He knew he’d fucked up. He knew he missed you. He knew it was too late, and that was the worst part. 
“Thank you so much for coming out and listening to my dumb sad song,” you chuckled as the crowd cheered. “But I have something else for you,” you were cut off by excited fans. I have something just a little bit happier, it’s called ‘Lover’. Please enjoy!”
Lando watched you as you danced around the stage, and he felt something dark growing in his stomach. You weren’t talking about him. It was someone new. You were seeing someone new. 
You couldn’t be seeing someone new, you’d been in a new city every few days. You couldn’t make it work with him, you were never on your phone, so it couldn’t be online. How did this happen?
You finished your song, and you left the stage. You fell into a chair and passed out. Maybe not eating was a bad idea? Probably. 
“Y/n,” Sasha shook you awake. “Someone’s here to see you.”
“I feel like shit-”
“We all do. Let’s go.”
And you followed. Because you had to. What else were you supposed to do but follow? Was this your life now? Taking orders and following them. 
“Now, you have to be nice to everyone, even Lando and Allison, alright?” she turned to you, stopping in front of the door. 
“I really don’t feel well,” you tried to protest. “Can I grab something to eat first?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’ll be 15 minutes, you’ll survive,” she sighed, opened the door, and pushed you into the room.
The drivers and their partners all cheered, happy to see you back in the paddock. 
“Y/n! I missed you so much!” Carmen immediately pulled you into a hug.
“I missed you too,” you smiled, even if it was forced. You needed to sit down, you needed a drink, and you needed to be alone. 
“Some pretty amazing songs!” George cheered, patting you on the back. 
“Thanks George,” you smiled. Soon you were all sitting on the various couches and chatting, even if you didn’t speak. Lando’s eyes were glued to his hands as Allison’s eyes were glued to you. She was practically sitting on him, on the verge of straddling him if you looked in their direction again. She didn’t know it, but you were looking at the door behind them, wondering when you’d be called. It had surpassed the 15 minute mark, and you felt yourself getting more and more faint as time went on. 
“Y/n?” Allison cut across Daniel chatting to you about your latest show in Manchester, remembering a story of the two of you when you were there, and telling it to the group. “How’s the tour going?”
You cleared your throat. “Well, thanks,” you smiled shyly. 
“So the rumours that you haven’t been performing to your full capabilities aren't true? Like I’ve heard you’ve been lip syncing,” she smirked as the rest of the drivers and wags just looked at her with disgust. Oscar rolled his eyes. He’d been sick of her for weeks, and he was usually quite good with people he didn’t like, but he hated her. So did Lily. 
You gulped. “I don’t lip sync, but obviously 97 shows in 113 days is quite a lot for my voice, so I don’t always sing my super vocally- challenging songs every night or else I’d have to go on vocal rest all the time,” you explained, feeling the change in energy in the room. 
“And that would just be horrible, right guys?” She turned to Lando with a smirk on her face, but he was just looking down, embarrassed by her. “I’m a huge fan of your music, how much of it is about Lando?-”
“What the fuck?” George stood up with Carmen by his side. “Allison, what is your problem with her?”
“It’s just a question!” Allison defended as Lando got up and left. She looked a lot less imposing with Lando gone. “He’s my boyfriend now!”
“Yeah, we wish he wasn’t,” Lewis said under his breath.
“Guys, it’s fine,” you just wanted to leave. “Some of my songs are, because I like to put my feelings into music, right? But not all of them, because my life doesn’t revolve around Lando, it never did. I am more than my relationships, and you’d do good to remember that for yourself. Don’t let love become who you are, it doesn’t end well.”
With that, you got up and left. You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t care if Sasha screamed at you, you didn’t care if they all came running after you. 
It was done. You and Lando were over. Was it your choice? No. Was it a choice you had to deal with? Yes. His choice. Yet, everyone had looked to you for answers. ‘What happened?’ ‘Was it going downhill?’ or your personal favourite; ‘Did he get bored?’.
You didn’t know. All you knew was that one moment, you were with him, and the next you weren’t. 
You ran to your dressing room and lay down, eating some random snacks you found. You felt better after eating, you felt-
Knock knock. 
“Come in!” You called, not caring much about who it was.
“Hi,” Lando’s voice was small and quiet. 
You sat up, staring at him. 
“Beautiful songs,” he smiled softly. “Missed hearing you sing.”
You nodded. “Good luck today.”
“Thanks,” he sighed. “I'm sorry about Allison, she’s the fucking worst.” 
You chuckled softly. “I’m sorry you’re dating her.”
He cracked a soft smile, then it fell. “Who’s the new lucky guy for you?” He watched as your face fell. 
“No… no new guy, just an old one I wrote back at the start of… us…” you trailed off. 
His heart was shattering, watching you be treated like this. Watching from afar as you lost your mind, lost your life, over a fucking tour. He saw the soulless look in your eyes, the dropped weight, the dampened smiles, all of it. He was shocked that other people couldn’t see it too. He’d regretted breaking up with you since the moment he did it. He was haunted by the way you begged him to stay, and he questioned how he’d ever said no to you. How was he so blind-sighted? How did he not see how much pressure you were under? How did he not see that he was what was keeping you above ground? 
“Oh,” he breathed out. 
You took a deep breath. “I’m releasing an album soon, and a lot of the songs are about our relationship,” you explained hesitantly. “I wanted to offer you a chance to listen to it before it goes out, just as a… heads-up? In case you’re worried about what’s on it.”
God, punching him square in the face would hurt less than watching you feel awkward around him. He cleared his throat. “Oh umm…yeah. I’d like that. Thank you.”
You nodded and got up, taking a cd out of your backpack. “Here you go. Sorry again, about… everything.” 
“I’m sorry too,” he nodded. “So, are you leaving now or…?”
“No, I’m holding the chequered flag today, so I’ll be up at race control,” you explained, trying to look anywhere other than him. “And I’m handing off the 1st place trophy.”
“Maybe I’ll be first to see you,” he chuckled. 
“Maybe,” you shrugged. 
“The tour looks… awful. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” he spoke after a minute’s silence. 
You just shrugged. “Not your fault,” you lied. 
He knew this was when he was meant to leave, but he wasn’t sure when you two would be in the same room again. He didn’t know when he’d see you again, so he took a moment to fully take you in. “You were really incredible today. You sounded like an-”
“Angel? Thanks Lando, see you soon,” you nodded, finishing the compliment you always used to get from him. He nodded and left, realising he had no more time. 
When the door closed you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. How could he do that? How could he stand there and be nice to you, after what he said that night? After what he fucking put you through?
----------------
Weeks of complaining from him, blaming you for his performance in races, telling you that you needed to be there for him, not calling you back, not texting back, not listening when you told him about how awful everything was going. 
“I’m sorry Lan, I know how hard this is. It’s hard for me too-”
“How the fuck can you say that? You’re the one who choose to do this, you fucking decided to tear us apart! This is all your fault, and you’re telling me it’s ‘hard’ for you. What is hard for you? Spending all your time with adoring fans? Being on stage and living your dreams? Being away from me?”
“Lan, you know better than anyone that I didn’t want this tour to happen,” you cried. Even then, even 48 shows in, you were being driven crazy. You were exhausted, you missed home, and you missed Lando. “I had no choice-”
“You had every fucking choice! And don’t give me that fucking bullshit about your label forcing you, we both know that’s a fucking lie!” he shouted. You hated it when he shouted, when anyone shouted. He had no fucking right to speak to you like that. You didn’t want this to happen, you had no say, you just had a contract and an incompetent lawyer to thank.
“I don’t know what you want me to say to that,” you shrugged, your voice breaking. “I love you, and I miss you. We can make this work Lan, I just need time to figure it out, alright? I just need time-”
“Yeah? Well I’ve given you all the time I have to give. We’re done, I bet I could find a million girls just like you, girls who would actually take my feelings into account before she made huge life decisions!” he scoffed.
“Lando, please don’t do this. I-I don’t know what- I- Lan please, I need you,” you pleaded. “I’m trying my best I swear-”
“Your best isn’t good enough.”
And he hung up.
----------------
The fallout of your relationship didn’t exactly go great either. A day later your feed was flooded with pictures of Lando out with someone else. One day later. 
What the fuck? Didn’t he care? Didn’t he love you?
Well, apparently not. 
----------------
Lando knew he wouldn’t see you again for months. This was his only fucking chance to speak to you, to see you, and instead, he stayed in his driver’s room listening to the heart-wrentching songs you’d written about him. God, if he thought ‘champagne problems’ was devastating, ‘cowboy like me’ was worse. It was a long album, almost 2 hours long. It spanned your entire relationship, starting out, your first date, your grammy win, his podiums, the hate you two got, the start of the fighting, the end of the relationship, and the after. It was awful reliving it from your perspective, especially since you had tried to tell him, and every time he’d pick a fight. 
“Lando?” Oscar’s voice came from outside his door. “Allison’s looking for you.”
“Tell her to piss off!”
“You can do that, mate,” he scoffed and walked off, into his own driver’s room. 
“Lan?” Her voice rang out, and he wanted to scream. He had put himself in this position, he knew it,  but it was still difficult to fully self-actualise his own shortcomings. 
“What?” he groaned, opening the door. 
“The other girls are excluding me,” she pouted. 
“I wonder why,” Lando rolled his eyes. “They love Y/n.”
Her face fell into a frown. “But you love me, so they should love me. They keep going off to find her and talk to her, and any time I try to tell them that I’m uncomfortable around her, they tell me not to come.”
“I don’t know what you want me to do,” he sighed. 
“Talk to their boyfriends, ask them to include me!”
“Babe, I have a fucking race today, please leave me alone,” he sighed. He pushed past her to walk to the paddock, knowing he just had to keep his head down and race today, he just had to do the one thing he was good at. 
“Well, what am I supposed to do for the rest of the day?” 
“I don’t know,” he grunted, and moved on. The garage was somehow too loud yet not loud enough to drown out the negative thoughts in his head. Recent months had been difficult. Races were taking more and more out of him, he was lonely, and if he wasn’t training or racing, he was looking at old photos of you or watching the tour. He could see how you deflated as you left the stage, how upset you looked going on stage. It was all a terrible reminder of how selfish he’d been. How hadn’t he seen it? Why didn’t he listen? 
He remembered telling Max what had happened. He’d gotten so angry, begging him to call you back and apologise. He’d been so blindsighted, he wouldn’t listen to Max. Why was Max always right?
“You good?” Oscar asked, a hand on his shoulder to drag him out of his thousand-yard stare. 
Lando sighed. “Good,” he lied, and it wasn’t convincing. Everyone knew what you were to him. You grounded him, you knew him, every single part of him. You loved him. “You?”
“Good. Y/n’s set was great earlier,” he offered a small smile. “At least you have a good break-up album, right?”
Lando cracked a small smile. Oscar was good at that, making him laugh when he was down. “Yeah, it feels great when it’s about you.”
Oscar chuckled. “Story for the grandkids,” he shrugged. “Don’t sweat it.”
Lando nodded. 
“Oh yeah,” Oscar added. “When you left, Allison asked Y/n what songs were about you, so just… expect that conversation with her, I guess? I’m not entirely sure what’ll happen-”
“What did Y/n say?”
Oscar swallowed. “Something like; ‘some of my songs are, ‘cause I like to put my emotions into music. But not all of them, because my life doesn’t revolve around Lando, it never did. I am more than my relationships, and you’d do good to remember that for yourself’.”
Lando nodded, and could tell by the look on Oscar’s face that he was holding something back. “That’s it?”
“‘Don’t let love become who you are, it doesn’t end well’,” Oscar finished. “Then she left.”
Lando nodded as the weight on his chest got heavier. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Of course,” Oscar offered a pity-smile and walked off to his side of the garage. 
Lando was always a person to be stuck inside his own head. He wasn’t good at expressing his feelings. He didn’t know how to talk about them. Yet, you always knew how to get him to talk. You always had the right solution, the right thing to say, the right face to make. He was in awe of you, so effortlessly perfect. 
He remembered back to Greece, back in the off-season, before the tour, before the season started. Before he fucked everything up. 
----------------
You smiled as he pulled you closer. The air was anything but cold, and the water was still. There you two sat, sitting on the bow of the as the sun set. The clear water beneath the yacht you’d been on for the past few days was calm and steady, lulling you both into an unmistakable tiredness. Yte, Lando wanted to stay up, wanting to soak up as much time with you as he could. He was going to miss you so much this season. You hadn’t ever been to every race in a season, you were a busy person, he understood that. He was a busy person too. But you’d go to as many races as possible. Now, ‘as many races as possible’ means about 4. Stupid tour. 
“What are you thinking about?” you asked, your eyes closed as you soaked in the moment. You leant against his chest as you lay in his arms, your favourite place to be. 
“How much I’ll miss you this year,” he admitted. There was never any point in lying to you, you always knew. 
You pressed a kiss to his arm. “I’ll miss you too.”
You were straight forward with things, he loved that. It was a bad situation. You were off to a tour you didn’t want to do, and he was off to another season. 
“I love you,” he confessed. He said it a lot, but it always felt special. He made you feel special. You made him feel special.
“I love you,” you opened your eyes, a smile on your lips. You spoke again after a few moments of silence. “You’re going to win a race this season, I can tell.”
He chuckled. “Once I get back home to you, I don’t care if I win.”
You laughed. “Sure, we all believe you.”
He smiled. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
You looked at him for a moment, that perfect, soft smile on your face. “Ditto,” you laughed as he did too. Your laugh was melodic, his favourite sound. 
“Who says ‘ditto’ to that?!” he laughed.
“I do,” you chuckled. 
You two locked eyes for a moment, then he leant down and pressed his lips to yours, soft and sweet. 
The perfect night. 
----------------
He caught a glance of your red dress walking into the garage. 
“Y/n!” The engineers cheered. He heard your laughter. 
The room was a collection of cheers and conversation, and he wanted more than anything to be able to walk over to you and hold you, and kiss you, and tell everyone to leave you alone because you were his girlfriend, not theirs. 
You walked in with a smile on your face. That smile dropped in half a second. Everyone was talking, everyone was patting you on the back, everyone was looking at you. You caught a glance of Lando and immediately felt the pit in your stomach grow. Everyone knew everything, everyone looked at you. Everyone blamed you. Oscar wrapped his arm around you and walked you through the garage as he saw you getting overwhelmed. He’d learnt the signs from his little sisters. Blown out pupils, teary eyes, tight features, heavy breathing. Oscar had always been a great friend to you, he’d always cared for you. He brought you through, doing most of the talking if anyone stopped you two and let you in his driver’s room, promising to grab you when you could leave without being bombarded by crew, or the press. 
Lando followed behind after a few minutes, then knocked on the door. He knew how to calm you down, he was probably the only person who did. 
Oscar opened the door looking panicked. “She’s having a panic attack,” he whispered. 
Lando nodded and walked in, taking your hand in his as you hid your face in your other hand. He knelt beside you on the floor as you sat on the bed. “It’s me baby, I’m right here. Come on, squeeze my hand,” he said, voice steady. You didn’t. “You need to start breathing properly, squeeze my hand like I’m squeezing yours,” He put some light pressure on your hand, which jump-started you into squeezing his hand as hard as you could. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair. You hated how well he knew you. You wanted him to not know you, to not understand you and your body better than you did. “Just like that,” he cooed. He pressed your hand to his chest, where you could feel his steady and calm breathing, feel his regular heartbeat. It was in stark contrast to you. The thump of your own heartbeat in your ears, the quick breathing, the erratic heart. “Breathe with me. Please baby,” his voice was soft and comforting. You tried, gently slowing your breathing down to normal. The adrenaline was still rushing through your body as you calmed down. Oscar offered you a water bottle and you let go of Lando’s hand to take it. 
“I shouldn’t have come here, I’m sorry,” you said, sounding smaller than ever. “Zak said he wanted to see me after my set. I should’ve just said no.”
“You’re always welcome here,” Oscar placed a hand on your shoulder. “Seriously.”
“We want you here,” Lando added. The air was sucked from the room. “I want you here.”
“You don’t,” you refuted. “I shouldn’t be here.”
Lando sighed. “Let me walk you back to Ferrari, please?”
You shook your head, finally looking up and making eye contact with him. “You and I both know how that’ll go.”
Lando nodded, his heart breaking for the thousandth time. It’s hard to find an end to something you never want to let go of. “Ok,” he whispered, his emotions getting the better of him. 
“Goodbye Lando,” you sighed, then took Oscar’s arm and let him lead you back to Ferrari. 
----------------
“I’m sorry about Lando,” Oscar sighed as you two walked up to the entrance to Ferrari. “About the break up, now, and basically everything in between. He’s been… difficult recently. He’s always been a ‘glass half empty’ kind of guy I guess… I just… you made him better, y’know?”
You chuckled sadly. “Thank you for apologising, but you don’t have to. Lando is an adult, so am I. Things just… end sometimes. Him and I just aren’t meant to be.”
Oscar cocked an eyebrow. “I think we both know that’s not true.”
You didn’t know how to respond. Oscar had never been this straightforward with you, and he sure as hell had never broached this topic before. You just nodded and took his hand. “Thanks for helping me.”
And then you walked back to Ferrari. 
Oscar did get one thing right, Lando wasn’t done with you. Maybe it was seeing you again, maybe it was the album, maybe it was Allison, maybe it was all of it, he didn’t know. But what he did know was that he was still in love with you. He’d never stopped. How could he? He missed everything about you, your lips, your smile, your kindness, the way you’d make him laugh, the way you’d make him smile. Everything. He missed listening to you sing, seeing you on a stage that you wanted to be on. Seeing you get to be you. 
----------------
The Silverstone after-party with Charles who dragged you along. You’d thought it would be a bad idea, but when you were already 8 shots deep, you didn’t really notice. Yuki had pulled you away to sing a karaoke duet with him as Pierre and Charles laughed at you both, and you somehow ended up outside on the balcony with Carlos, both of you laughing at something random. 
“Y/n!” Lando cheered, clearly as drunk as you. A part of you had forgotten about everything before this moment, like you were seeing him for the first time. Perfect, with his curls, unbuttoned shirt, and damn pretty smile. “I didn’t know you were here!” 
“Lan!” you cheered, pulling him in for a hug. Carlos gave you both a very confused look, but was called away by Charles for a game of beer pong. Surprisingly, these ‘fancy’ parties usually just turned into something out of a frat house in Florida. Maybe it was just Logan’s presence. “How are you?” You slurred. 
“I feel great!” he shouted. “We should go for a walk!” 
“Yes!” you agreed. 
----------------
And that’s how you ended up back in his hotel room making out with him on his bed as he pulled your dress off. Funny how things can happen when you’re actually 18 shots deep, not 8. Oops?
“So pretty,” he murmured into your neck as he settled you on his lap. “So pretty for me.”
You laughed into his mouth, pulling back. “Lan, speed up.”
He smirked at you, his eyes heavy, then pressed his lips to yours again. He fully pulled your dress off of you as you started making quick work of his belt and trousers. 
“Fuck me,” you whispered in his ear and he let out a low moan. “Please Lan.”
He didn’t waste time. 
----------------
You woke up the next morning with a blinding headache, and a very naked Lando Norris beside you. You had to leave. You’d just fucked him, and he had a girlfriend. You were a homewrecker. You didn’t know if the sudden urge to vomit came up because of that, or the 18 shots of straight vodka you did the night before. 
You quickly grabbed your clothes, shoes, one of his hoodies, and tried to salvage whatever dignity you had left, then made a swift exit. It was still dark out and you were just praying that you could get through the 2 blocks you had to walk to your hotel without running into someone, or running into cameras. You quickly dialled Sasha’s number and tried to stop yourself from crying. You just pray you two used protection, or fell asleep before doing anything real.
“Morning?” she answered groggily. 
“Sasha I did something really fucking stupid,” you admitted, the tears welling up in your eyes as you walked into the lobby of your hotel. “And I don’t know what to do.”
“Come to my room, we’ll sort it out,” she sighed. “You’ll be ok kiddo, I promise.”
----------------
You knocked on her hotel room door, tears in your eyes. 
“It’s 5 am,” she stated, opening the door. 
You rushed in, bursting into tears. “I think I fucked Lando, I mean- I-I think we fucked, last night- we were so drunk a-and then I don’t re-remember,” you hiccuped. “I’m so fucking stupid!”
She put a hand on your shoulder, sighing. “That was a very stupid thing to do,” she nodded. “But it’s not the end of the world. Did you use protection?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll go get Plan B, you stay here. Get changed into some pyjamas. Get some water, relax. Just don’t leave the hotel, yeah?”
“Alright,” you agreed. She left for the door. “Sash?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you,” you said in a small voice. She offered you a pitying smile, and went on her way. 
----------------
Months passed and you both went on with your lives. He didn’t reach out, you didn’t either. Sadly, you were in fact a homewrecker. A week after ‘the incident’ Allison and Lando broke up. You truthfully felt so ashamed and awful for the girl. It wasn’t right what you two had done, and truly, you were insanely drunk. In no world would you fuck Lando Norris sober. 
The tour had finally ended, and your world was no longer turned upside down. You were working on new music, healing your body after all the travel and abuse you put it through, and continuing to try and get over Lando. 
It hurt like a bitch. He hurt like a bitch. 
----------------
Lando two-wins. Contender in the Championship. Supposedly dating someone. Last Lap Lando.
Lonely Lando, more like. Max Fewtrell had decided to stage an intervention and join him for the rest of the races, worried about his mental state. Since seeing you again, he’d been… less than alright. He’d talk about you all the time, stalk your instagram (to the point that Max took his phone off of him in Greece), and generally just think about you a lot. It was coming up to the album drop, and you were having your launch party in Italy. The same weekend as the race. All because Charles wanted to come. 
Shit was bound to go down, and no one was more excited than Hallie. 
You were dressed to the nines, nervous and excited. You’d fired half of your team, you’d dropped your old label, and you’d become… happier? That couldn’t be right, not when you felt the oppressive weight of your own regret on your chest everyday. Not when you woke up reaching for Lando. Not when you watched every single race and couldn’t look away until he was safely across that damn finish line. 
You were surviving. That’s the best you could do. 
----------------
“You look beautiful,” Charles smiled as he walked into the party. The night had gone off without a hitch so far. A select group of fans, influencers, celebrities, and almost all the drivers were mingling with one another, and not one sighting of Lando Norris. Not that you didn’t miss his face, or him in general. You did. More than you’d ever thought possible to miss someone.  
“Thanks Charles,” you smiled, pulling him into a hug. “You look great too.”
He smiled and beside him, Alexandria smiled at you, then pulled you into a hug. You continued the superficial chatting for a few moments, just hoping Charles wouldn’t ask the dreaded question. 
He looked at you for a second too long, and you knew it was coming. “Are you alright?” God, why did he have to ask stupid fucking questions? Obviously you weren’t alright. Obviously, if you could, you would run away. Obviously, you were drowning. 
Didn’t he see that? Didn’t anyone notice? Didn’t anyone care?
Apparently not. 
You nodded, putting on your best fake smile. “Just nervous.”
He nodded. It was enough to fool him. 
The night went on in a flurry of uncomfortable small talk, ridiculous requests from your most esteemed guests, and it was finally time to start listening to the album. You stood on stage, a nervous smile on your face as everyone looked at David, your producer, who was speaking in length about how proud of the record he was, and how proud he was of you. Everything was perfect. Everything was right in the world. 
But, of course, because he had to always be the centre of your universe, Lando walked in. 
And you were fucked. Every single breathing technique you’d learnt, every single pressure point tapping you’d done, it all left your head. Everything stopped. You stopped breathing. You stopped. 
But it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel bad to have him there. It felt awfully, and soul-crushingly, right. Lando was always meant to be there, a devastating realisation that you didn’t exactly want to make while on stage in front of 200 people. 
“Any words, Y/n?” David asked, passing you the mic. 
You looked at Lando and he smiled, waving at you. You smiled back. 
“Please enjoy this album, it’s from a very important time of my life where I finally learnt what it meant to be in love, and be loved wholly in return. Obviously, it didn’t end very well, and that’s when I learnt what grieving someone was. I still have a lot of love for him, probably more than I should. But I have it. And I had nowhere to put it, so I put it to music, which is really the only thing I think I’ll ever truly understand. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you understand it,” You explained to the crowd. You watched Lando the entire time, looking at how his eyes lit up when you talked about your relationship. Lando had always cared about you. He always would. 
The opening cords of the first song started playing, and the attention was off of you. The crowd just closed their eyes and listened. You exited the stage and joined the crowd, desperately trying to get out of there. You stood on the balcony as the music blasted inside. People danced along, sang along as they started learning the words, and you stayed outside, tears falling. 
“You’re beautiful,” Lando’s whisper made you jump. You turned to see him, standing there behind you. “The album’s beautiful.”
You scoffed. “The album’s an album. What was beautiful was us,” you sighed. “Thank you for coming.”
He nodded, leaning against the barrier beside you. “Do you even wish our lives weren’t as complicated as they are?”
You chuckled. “More than anything.”
“We were beautiful,” he shook his head, trying to remember why he ever ruined the best thing in his life. “If you ever find yourself wanting to love me again, just… call me?”
You nodded, looking at him. “I will.”
He nodded, putting his hand on your shoulder and letting it sit there for a split-second, just to remind him of what it was like to touch you. Just to remind himself that once, he didn’t have to wonder if you loved him, to remind him of the unwavering support you gave him, to remind him of how his whole world came crashing down when he made you leave it. “I love you,” he whispered before walking to the door. 
His phone started ringing in his pocket as he got back inside. Unknown number. He answered it. 
“I think I want to love you again,” he could hear your smile through the phone and he immediately whipped around, his smile growing as he got closer to you. When he stood in front of you again, you both took the phones down and smiled at each other.
Lando didn’t waste time. He closed the gap between you two in one simple stride, wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his lips to yours. “I love you so much,” he pulled back. “I’m never letting you go again.”
----------------
landonorris
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1,488,928 likes | liked by oscarpiastri, y/ny/l/n, and others
love of my life. @ y/ny/l/n
comments
user28: WHAT THE FUCK THEY BROKE UP MONTHS AGO THO????-> user92: they were seen kissing at her launch party
y/ny/l/n: who's that pretty girl? -> oscarpiastri: she's too good for him -> landonorris: >:( -> oscarpiastri: hurt her again and I push you off the track. ->carlossainz: I second this -> charleslecerc: I third this -> alexalbon: I fourth this -> georgerussell: I fifth this.
georgerussell: Trying to beat me with no shirt?
lewishamilton: Yay! (I begged her not to take you back you asshole). -> pierregasly: Yay! (I'm trying to be supportive of her).
lilymhe: fuck off. ->user83: LMAO -> user18: DAMN EVERYONE HATES HIM
danielriccardo: HAHAHAHAHAH (I'm crying.)
----------------
navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
1K notes · View notes
firingstars · 2 months ago
Text
neighborly advice | ch.1
bucky barnes x female reader
summary: you meet your neighbor for the first time, and your world is falling apart around you. alternatively; bucky talks to you for the first time and watches you crash tf out
warnings: timeline is somewhere around the middle/end of fatws, language, alcohol, eventual smut, past trauma, nightmares, no use of y/n, lightly edited, mdni
word count: 3.7k
a/n: hello :3 first xreader fic- i usually write xoc fics so apologize if this is kinda wonky on some areas. this was an x oc fic at first but i decided to make it a reader fic. please enjoy!
masterlist | next chapter
Tumblr media
The newly vacant apartment hadn’t been empty for long. The previous tenant was an older man that was too slow to walk up the stairs by himself without stressing out the other residents on the fifth floor of the apartment building. He finally allowed himself to be convinced to be moved in with one of his children into a more comfortable home upstate to spend the rest of his days.
He gave some of his most prized china to his neighbor, saying that his own children would not take care of it like she would. Of course, who were you to deny it? You'd spent the last three years of your life in this apartment building. You were nearly complete with your research, with just a few more kinks to iron out before you could formally present it.
You hoped whoever moved in beside you wouldn’t mind the late night hours. You weren’t a particularly horrible neighbor, but you also hoped your new neighbor wouldn’t be bad either. Mr. Lin was an angel. He didn’t move very fast, which meant his footsteps were light and he barely made any sound from his side of the wall. Though, if you listened closely, you still were able to hear him shuffle about which gave you the peace of mind that he didn’t fall and end up dead in his apartment.
Your new neighbor came two days later, just right after midnight. The day had been long, the overhead lights in the facility had done nothing but wear you down all day, and there was still one more thing that needed to be done before you could even think about crashing in the cotton sheets that called your name. 
Yet, seeing this scene of boxes stacked in the hallway, and a man that looked slightly out of place, you froze at the stairwell door. Briefly, you’d forgotten Mr. Lin had left, until the jingle of keys had filled your ears. Of course.
It was too late to strike up any kind of conversation, especially with a random man in the middle of a hallway that had boxes to unpack. So, you walked over to your own door, pulled out your key and gave him a slight nod.
“Good evening,” you greeted softly. 
His eyes scanned you. Not in a sleazy, disgusting way that makes your skin crawl and make your stomach want to turn inside out. It was almost calculating. As if he was looking for something, that he was certain there was something that was going to jump out and scare him. Which, in all honesty, seemed silly.
This man was breathtakingly beautiful. 
Rough around the edges, with eyes so tired and so steely blue. His jaw was sharp, just like the gaze that pierced through his soul. His shoulders were tense, but his entire body seemed to be wound up. She didn’t know if that was due to her sudden presence in the hall, or if that was his default stance. Either way, he was pretty. And he met your eyes, finally done with his scanning. So, you swallowed, and introduced yourself. 
“Bucky,” he responded with a grunt, finally pushing his door open. You watched for a brief second as he began to haul the boxes into his home– and heard a slight mechanical whirr as he picked up each box. Your head tilted in curiosity, but really, it wasn’t your place to ask or question. You had an issue with work, and then a date with your bed.
There wasn’t much to be heard from your mysteriously hot neighbor for a while. You were busy with work, and he almost seemed like a ghost. Part of you even wondered if he was really even living here, until the sound of crashing ceramics on the other side of your shared wall caught your attention. It had you made jolt, your pen skipping across your paper and dashing a line across your notes that you would now have to surely re-do–
“Fuck!” 
Oh, shit. He sounded… Hurt?
You were moving before you could register what was happening. It was almost like muscle memory, flying to your neighbor’s rescue in the middle of the night. You’d done it more than once for Mr. Lin, and you were doing it again for Bucky, the man you hadn’t even had a full conversation with. And you were knocking. Rapidly. 
“Bucky?” you called out between knocks. “Bucky, are you okay in there–”
The door was torn open before you realized it. You hadn’t heard his footsteps come towards the door. In fact, the door opened without the signature creak it usually did. It was how you knew Mr. Lin got home safe from coming home after playing mahjong with the older lady down on floor three. 
You felt as if the wind had been knocked out of your system just by staring at him. He opened the door so fast, but he really barely opened it at all. Half of his body was concealed, and his height covered the apartment behind him. You could only see a small lamp illuminating a corner of the room that you knew was the living room of this apartment’s layout. From what you could hear, the TV was left on to play some random show or movie.
“Sorry,” he said with a hard swallow. Your eyes trailed over his face, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He was sweating, breathing heavily, and he got a haircut? It looked nice. Bucky blinked rapidly, then dragged a hand over his face. “About the noise. It must’ve– it must have woken you up, right?”
“Oh… No. I was already awake working on… Never mind.” You shook your head. “Are– are you okay?”
“Fine,” he said, a little too quickly. Okay. Noted. 
“Do you need water… or something like that?” you asked slowly.
“Water,” he repeated, like it just dawned upon him. “Yeah. Water is good. I will get water.”
“Right,” you said, nodding a little stupidly. Now, this felt fucking awkward. He looked uncomfortable, and you felt just as uncomfortable as he looked. “I– I’ll get going now. If… If you need anything, I’m just next door.”
Bucky didn’t answer. In fact, the second the words came out, the door was shut quickly in your face. You released the breath you didn’t know you were holding and slowly turned. What the hell was all of that?
Well, even if you wanted to dwell on this like a teenager, you didn’t have the time. Someone on your team fucked up the simulation, dropped out of the research after a heavy argument claiming it wasn’t his fault, then two more of the team pulled out as a result since they didn’t think they would be able to make the deadline when a fourth of their simulation had just crumbled in fron of thier eyes. The team you had spent the six months building, the project you’d been working on since before you got Blipped out of existence– none of it mattered. You would see this through and present this and defend it with your life even if you were the last one standing.
Despite all your efforts, you received the notice.
The funding for the project had been cancelled. The remaining sponsors had taken back their offers. You argued for an entire week. You couldn’t give up now, not when you were so close. You had the proper plans. You had the ideas, the blueprints– you just didn’t have the means to get there. You just needed the resources to prove that you were worth it–
Everyone pulled out. People who had called your project innovative and forward thinking could only send their condolences and offer you a handshake before leaving you to mourn over your brainchild. It was better than your teammates, though. They simply left you without turning back. 
And now, you were at Izzy’s, crying to your one and only friend, who unfortunately still had to work tonight. Thank the Gods for her, since she didn’t mind you sitting at her bar and sobbing.
“Why don’t you just apply for Stark’s foundation or whatever?” Leah asked, pouring her another shot of sake and sliding it over the counter. 
“Because Leah, I was trying to do this so Stark could see it and take interest. It’s no fucking point if I go bang down his door and demand him to look at my brainchild,” you grunted, taking the shot back, and making a small face at the liquor running down your throat. 
In your drunken stupor, you didn’t realize the barstool beside you scraped across the floor. No, you were tunnel visioned, unfocused, tired, and sad. You did, however, recognize the voice of the old man beside you. “You work too hard. Not many young folk are like you these days.”
“I work hard and have nothing to show for it, Mr. Nakajima,” you argued, slamming her hands on the counter before looking at him. Surprise filled your body as you looked past the old man to find someone sitting on the opposite side of him– your neighbor– who looked just as surprised to see you.
“Nonsense. What about your father? Your father would surely back your work,” Mr. Nakajima said with a smile.
“No. If I called him, he would have my ass on a plane to get me shipped off to my home country and married off before I could finish saying Hello,” you said with a snort. “I left for a reason, Mr. Nakajima. I left, and he told me there would be no support when I did.”
The old man clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I cannot stand parents like that. If my son were still around…”
And as much as you loved to listen to him talk, especially loved to give him a listening ear as he reminisced about the past and about his late son, you just couldn’t do it right now. You drowned out the sound of his voice. It wasn’t difficult when the world around you was crumbling into a million pieces. You had been legally declared dead for the past five years, and when you returned, there was a fiance waiting for you that was double your age.
Your father didn’t even know if the Avengers would succeed in bringing everyone back. He just made a bet. It was some weird, sick and twisted thing that was going around the elite folk, and he got a pretty good deal with his winning hand. He wasn’t satisfied with it, and needed more to expand his net worth. Your older brothers had already been married and made their own businesses, as good sons do, but as the daughter, you were expected to do as daddy said. All of this, within the five years that you were gone and didn’t even know you were gone. 
Technically speaking, your life wasn’t completely over either. You were setback even farther than you wanted to be. There were things that you wanted to be done as soon as possible to get your ass farther from your dad, but you wouldn’t be on the streets anytime soon. You still had some of Daddy’s Money in your savings account from when you were still living at home before the blip, and your mom would occasionally send money under the pretense of bribery to get you to come home. At least you had one parent that cared about you.
“Are you okay?”
That gravelly voice, soft and low, snapped you out of your self wallowing and pity. At some point, Bucky had moved seats. No longer on the opposite side of Nakajima, but now beside you, putting you between both men. You blinked, staring at him for a few moments before reaching for the newly filled glass that Leah poured for you. She’d been making sure your glass had never gone empty for too long all night. 
“No. I wish rich bastards with agendas would burn,” you answered, a grimace coming onto your face as you looked at the cup. What the fuck did Leah give you? 
“Well, you know, you’re not the only one,” he said with a shrug, giving Leah a nod before lifting up two fingers in the air. Two cold bottles of beer were placed in front of him, and he slid one to you. “On me. Since you’re having a rough night… And as an apology… For that one night.”
“You mean when you slammed your door in my face when I was just trying to make you sure you weren’t dying or there wasn’t an intruder in your fucking apartment?” you snapped at him, and his eyes widened. Surprise, it seemed. Then again, this was the first full conversation they had ever had, and you had quite the mouth. To your defense, you had more than enough alcohol in your system to get you arrested if a cop stopped her in the streets. 
“I suppose. Yeah.”
“One shitty beer isn’t enough. Either apologize to me or comfort me. Pick one.”
Bucky stared for a few moments. It wasn’t uncomfortable to be watched by him, you realized. Then, he chuckled. A low, rumbling sound that was nice to listen to. He picked up his bottle, clinked the neck of it with hers, and raised it in the air slightly.
“Comfort for tonight. I’ll apologize another time.”
“Accepted,” you muttered, picking up your own bottle to take a swig at the same time he did.
Tumblr media
His first impression of his neighbor… Was that she was cute. He heard her soft footsteps come up the stairwell long before anyone else would, not that she was even trying to hide herself from him. He heard her soft yawn as she turned the corner, saw the slight stutter in her step as she saw him at his door. 
She gave him a small nod. Greeted him, introduced herself. She was damn near adorable.
Bucky’s neighbor looked tired, but in a sleepy kinda way. Her eyeliner was beginning to rub off at the edges, and her mascara looked like it was about one more yawn away from sliding off her lashes. Her lips seemed kinda chapped, but he could blame that on the bite of the change of weather outdoors. She was small, too, and looked even smaller holding all those damn textbooks in one hand and another bag slung over her shoulder. Yet, none of it looked like it phased her. Either way, she looked cute to him.
Not that he would admit that to anyone.
His next run in with her was less than graceful. Nightmares continued to plague him, unfortunately. 
Even though he didn’t necessarily want to move out of the compound, he felt that it was necessary. Sam was talking to him about his sleep habits again. That he understood why Bucky slept on the floor, but at some point he needed to get up and move to the bed– that it really wasn’t normal to wake up every thirty minutes to another nightmare and not be able to sleep again– that sleeping with a loaded pistol in your hand was not natural. He didn’t need to hear any of this from his friends anymore, and he didn’t want to. So, he found something comfortable. 
It didn’t stop the nightmares.
He should have realized that the comfortable price meant the walls were fucking thin. And he slammed the door shut right in front of her face, even though she had rushed to him at nearly three in the morning with nothing on but a thin strapped tank top that didn’t even cover her stomach and pajama shorts that he was certain was considered underwear back in the day and black, thinly framed glasses that were sliding down her nose bridge and her long hair sliding out of a bun. 
Bucky spent a lot of mornings pacing in front of her door, in the hallway. He spent a lot of time waiting inside his apartment, trying to catch when she would open up her door and head out for the day. Somehow, he always fucking missed it.
Either this girl did not obey the regular time clock of the world, or she just never left her house, which he knew was false, because he heard her come back at night before or after midnight. And it wouldn’t be very neighborly of him to ambush her that late at night with an apology without making it more weird than it had to be, so he waited, and waited, and he fucking waited.
And he had other things to do, so thankfully he didn’t seem totally pathetic just waiting for her like this. Like, he made a friend. With a man not that much younger than him, someone that he knew that he would have to make amends with sometime in the future– and this certain someone invited him to dinner– and she was here.
Damn near drunk out of her mind, crying to the bartender. 
“Woe is you,” the bartender cooed at her and teased her with her nickname. 
“Don’t call me that,” she huffed, throwing back another shot. 
“Whatever,” she grinned, shaking her head as she poured another drink for his neighbor. “Come on, just tell me about it. Failed date? Guy on your research team stop flirting with you? Or worse– he got a girlfriend?”
“No, Leah. My life is fucking over,” she drawled, glaring at the counter it was the reason for all her issues. 
“Because of a guy? Don’t piss me off,” Leah huffed. 
“What’s with you and guys?” she accused.
“What isn’t with you and guys! Didn’t you say your neighbor is hot? Hit on him and get laid so you can finally stop moping around like this!”
Bucky’s eyebrow raised. The neighbor on the other side of her was a single mother of a little girl. The neighbor across the hall was two young boys in their early twenties that had just started university, but moved in relatively around the same time she did. Other than that, there were just a couple of families there on their floor. 
“You’re insane,” she huffed, shaking her head. “I don’t need to get laid, I need my research to get approved–”
“--Probably should get laid though–”
“--so can you stop saying that shit?” she groaned.
He couldn’t help it. He moved to sit beside her, and saw as her eyes realized who he was, though she didn’t realize that he had heard what they had been speaking about earlier. From the bartender’s reaction, she didn’t know that Bucky was the neighbor, either. 
Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, just slightly. Her eyelids were half closed, her breathing was slowed, and her hair was mussed up from her running her hands through it multiple times in the last few moments. Against his better judgement, he bought her a drink. He knew it didn’t do anything for him, but when things used to go south for him back in the 40s– a drink at the bar would help him. 
And she smiled. A toothy grin, one that sent something down a special pathway in his mind. He wanted to be able to see her smile again. Another time. 
And despite his best judgement, she would not listen to his gentle requests to slow down on the alcohol. She would not cushion her stomach with food or water, and he wondered where the absolute hell she was storing all of this liquor in her tiny little body. Well, she wasn’t tiny. She was just small compared to him. Hell, everyone was small compared to him, but she just especially felt–
What was he even thinking about?
“Alright. That’s enough,” he said, grabbing the shot glass from her. She made a noise of complaint, then watched him down it like it was nothing. “I’m not too sure what’s going on with you, but let’s call it a night here.”
“Listen to him, child,” Nakajima said, patting her back. She let out a breath of frustration, dropping her head on the counter.
“Just leave her here. I’ll bring her home after my shift ends,” Leah said, shaking her head.  
“I can bring her home,” Bucky said. Leah paused, eyes scanning him up and down in suspicion. He noticed, and quickly added, “I’m her neighbor.”
“You’re her–!” Leah shouted, then slapped a hand over her mouth in horror before hissing her nickname. “He’s your neighbor!?”
“Hm? Bucky? Mhm. My neighbor.. Don’t try any funny business with me,” she accused him, pointing a finger at him as she gave him a sleepy smile. 
“My Ma’ raised me better than that, promise,” he said, his own smile finding his way on his face. 
“Ah! He’s a good man, Leah,” Nakajima smiled, oblivious as to what was going on. He even handed Bucky her purse and jacket. “He will take care of her. Easy for him to carry her rather than for you to drag her. Thank you, Bucky.”
“C’mon, doll,” Bucky said softly to her, “Let’s head home.”
She hummed, and he stared at her for a few moments before somehow managing to get her situated on his back in a way that she would not fall off of him while he walked the few blocks back to their apartment building. Slowly, as he walked, he felt her body grow heavier and heavier on him. She fell asleep on his back.
When he got to their floor, he stopped at her door. 
“Wake up. You’re home,” he said, his voice above a whisper, but not too loud to wake the other neighbors. He said her name again, and she made a noise on his back, arms wrapping tighter around his neck. Fuck. 
He reached for her purse to grab her keys, only to stop. That would be an invasion of privacy. Would it be overstepping? Would it be more jarring for her to wake up in her own home without any explanation? Truthfully, it would be extremely easy for him to get her into her home and make it so he had never been there.
He didn’t do that kind of thing anymore. That wasn’t his thing. He talked to people. If he didn’t want to have to explain and deal with the consequences of his actions, then he should have let the bartender deal with bringing her home.
“Shit,” he grunted, and took a couple more steps down the hall into his room.
Tumblr media
next chapter
415 notes · View notes
lynbels · 3 months ago
Note
!prompt!! jealousy finally makes sunghoon act and fuck, even with him in denial
please please please - psh (m)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
sunghoon x f reader
synopsis: Sunghoon always played it cool—until he saw you with someone else, and suddenly, he wasn’t asking for you, he was taking you ✉️ wc2757 ‼️ jealousy, possessiveness, sexual content (oral sex, rough sex), language, slight exhibitionism, emotional tension, minor angst, heavy making out, marking (hickeys/bites)
💌 didnt understand a word said there hun but hopefully this works <3
Tumblr media
It had only been a few weeks since you and Sunghoon moved in together. Things were still new, still soft around the edges. Boxes half-unpacked, routines not quite settled, kisses traded in the middle of lazy afternoons. It wasn’t official-official—no labels, no big confessions—but everything between you had felt right. Comfortable. Safe.
So when you casually mentioned your friend would be staying the night—“just for a bit, promise, he’s passing through”—Sunghoon didn’t think much of it.
Until he opened the door.
Jake.
Tall, sharp-jawed, with easy charm in his voice and pretty-boy eyes that lingered a beat too long when they met yours. His duffel bag slung over his shoulder, a half-smile tugging at his lips as he said, “Hey, Hoon. Thanks for letting me crash.”
Sunghoon didn’t remember saying yes.
And you—fuck, you looked excited. Lit up, like this was someone you hadn’t seen in a while. Like this wasn’t just any friend.
Jake pulled you in for a hug, his hand resting low on your back, his mouth brushing close to your ear as he murmured something that made you laugh. That laugh again.
Sunghoon didn’t say a word.
He just watched.
Watched Jake sit next to you on the couch after dinner. Watched how your knees touched and you didn’t move away. Watched how Jake handed you his hoodie when you said you were cold, like it was second nature.
Watched how you wore it.
He told himself it wasn’t a big deal.
But by midnight, when Jake was still up with you, flipping through old photos on your phone and laughing like he belonged here, Sunghoon was seething.
You eventually got up to grab water, leaving them alone in the living room.
Jake leaned back on the couch, glancing at him. “You’re quiet tonight,” he said casually, like they were just two guys catching up.
Sunghoon gave a tight smile. “I didn’t know her friend was a guy.”
Jake raised a brow. “She didn’t tell you?”
“No,” Sunghoon muttered. “She didn’t.”
Jake shrugged, completely unbothered. “Well. Nothing to worry about, man. Y/N and I go way back. Totally platonic.”
Sunghoon’s eyes flicked toward the hallway, where you were still out of earshot.
His jaw clenched. His voice dropped.
“Sure,” he said. “Let’s keep it that way.”
Jake only grinned, like he could smell the tension in the room and was enjoying the hell out of it. He stretched his arms over the back of the couch, relaxed, confident, completely at ease in a space that wasn’t his. “Man, she��s changed a lot since we last hung out. Got hotter somehow,” he added with a little smirk.
Sunghoon didn’t even blink.
“Right. Real glow up,” he said flatly, taking a sip from his water bottle, eyes fixed on the TV even though it wasn’t playing anything.
Jake chuckled. “You two are roommates, right? Just roommates?”
Sunghoon’s grip on the bottle tightened.
You walked back in just then, Jake flashing you that stupid, too-pretty smile. “We were just catching up. You didn’t tell me Hoon was so protective.”
You laughed, sliding onto the couch beside him, not noticing the way Sunghoon’s eyes tracked how Jake shifted closer, thigh brushing yours.
“We’re not roommates,” you said, glancing at Sunghoon with a teasing look. “We live together.”
Jake raised a brow. “Same thing.”
“It’s not,” Sunghoon said sharply—too sharply.
You blinked. “Hoon?”
His jaw flexed. “Doesn’t matter.”
You and Jake kept chatting, the conversation picking up again like nothing happened, but Sunghoon barely heard a word. His head was loud—too loud. He kept telling himself he didn’t care. That you could be close with whoever you wanted. That he didn’t need to say anything because it wasn’t like that between you two.
Except it was.
Except the way Jake touched you made his blood boil.
Except the way you laughed at Jake’s stupid jokes made something burn low in his stomach.
And when you stretched your arms over your head, hoodie riding up just enough to expose a sliver of skin, Jake’s eyes dropped to your waist and didn’t come back up right away.
Sunghoon stood abruptly. “I’m going to bed.”
You looked up, surprised. “Already?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t look at Jake. “Have fun catching up.”
Then he turned and walked down the hallway, hands clenched at his sides, breathing harder than he wanted to admit.
He shut the bedroom door behind him—but he didn’t sleep.
He lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, heart pounding in his chest as your voice carried faintly through the walls. Soft. Sweet. His.
You were his.
Even if he’d never said it. Even if he was too much of a coward to admit it out loud. Even if he was still pretending it didn’t mean anything—this thing between you.
But Jake?
Jake wasn’t pretending anything.
And that was going to be a problem.
The clock hit 1:14 a.m.
You were still out there with him.
Sunghoon rolled onto his side, arm tucked under his head, eyes trained on the door like it might open at any second. It didn’t. Laughter filtered faintly through the wall instead—yours and Jake’s. Low, intimate. The kind of laugh you gave when you were completely at ease. The kind of laugh Sunghoon heard in his dreams, usually when you were curled up against his chest in the early morning, half-asleep and warm.
He hated that Jake was hearing it now. Hearing you like that.
His fingers twitched against the sheets. He kept telling himself to let it go. That you’d chosen to live with him, not Jake. That you came home to him, not Jake. That Jake was just a friend.
But something about the way Jake looked at you tonight…
Something about the way you looked back…
He didn’t like it.
And he really didn’t like that he couldn’t stop picturing Jake sitting closer. Testing limits. Making some slick little comment that made you blush. Maybe brushing your hair behind your ear. Maybe daring to touch your thigh the way only he should.
Sunghoon sat up. Too hot. Too tense. His jaw ached from clenching so hard.
Then he heard your voice. Closer this time.
You were walking down the hall.
His heart thumped.
A moment later, the door creaked open and you stepped inside, Jake’s hoodie still hanging loose around your frame, swallowing your body in fabric that smelled like him. Not Sunghoon.
You smiled sleepily. “Hey… I didn’t wake you, did I?”
He didn’t answer right away. His eyes flicked to the hoodie. His hoodie—the one he gave you a few nights ago when you were cold—was lying untouched on the desk chair behind you. Abandoned.
“No,” he said, voice low. “Didn’t wake me.”
You crossed the room, clearly unaware of the storm under his calm. “Jake says hi. He’s crashing on the couch now.”
Sunghoon hummed in response, barely a sound. You were already climbing into bed, pulling the covers over your legs.
“You okay?” you asked softly, glancing at him.
“Fine.”
You gave him a look, like you didn’t believe him—but you didn’t push. You just curled up on your side, facing away from him.
Silence.
His eyes dropped to your waist. The hem of the hoodie had ridden up just slightly, exposing the curve of your hip, your bare thigh peeking out. He knew you weren’t wearing anything under that. Not when you’d been lounging in the living room all night in it.
Wearing his hoodie like that would’ve had him touching you already.
But this? Jake’s?
“Take it off,” he said suddenly.
You blinked, turning back toward him. “What?”
Sunghoon’s eyes were sharp now, burning into yours in the dark.
“That hoodie. Take it off.”
You frowned. “Why?”
“Because it’s his,” he said, voice low and tight. “And I don’t want to see you in it.”
You stared at him, surprised by the edge in his tone. “Sunghoon…”
He looked away. “Forget it.”
“No,” you said, sitting up slowly. “Say it.”
“I did,” he snapped, then lowered his voice. “I said take it off.”
You studied him in the silence that followed. The clenched jaw. The barely restrained tension. The heat in his eyes that didn’t match the coolness of his words.
“…Are you jealous?”
He scoffed. “Why would I be?”
You smirked just a little, like you knew exactly why.
That made it worse.
Sunghoon lay back down and turned away from you, teeth gritted, fists curled into the sheets.
He wasn’t jealous.
He wasn’t.
He just didn’t want Jake looking at you like that. Touching you like that. Making you laugh like that.
That wasn’t jealousy.
That was… something else.
Right?
The morning after was quiet.
Too quiet.
You were making coffee in the kitchen, hair still messy from sleep, dressed in one of Sunghoon’s old tees—thankfully his again this time. Jake wandered in behind you, yawning, stretching, acting like this was his place too. Sunghoon sat at the dining table, nursing a mug of black coffee he hadn’t touched, eyes following every move you made.
He watched as Jake leaned casually against the counter beside you, close—too close.
Watched as you laughed at something Jake said.
Watched as Jake’s hand slipped to your shoulder, fingers lightly brushing the fabric of your shirt. “God, you’re still the same,” Jake said, chuckling. “Always trying to make people feel at home, even when you’re half asleep.”
You smiled. “Well, you are a guest.”
Sunghoon’s knuckles went white around his mug.
Jake’s hand didn’t move.
It stayed right there on your shoulder, fingertips warm, possessive, easy like it belonged there.
Sunghoon stood up so fast the chair scraped harshly against the floor. You and Jake both turned to look at him—but before either of you could say a word, Sunghoon was already moving.
He crossed the room in three long strides, grabbed your waist with both hands, and pulled you in without hesitation.
Then his mouth was on yours.
Hard. Hot. Unapologetic.
You gasped, hands bracing on his chest in shock, but he didn’t stop. His grip tightened, one hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair as his lips crashed over yours again—claiming, tasting, devouring. Like he’d been starving.
You barely had a second to react before he broke the kiss, just enough to speak against your lips.
“He doesn’t get to touch you.”
Your eyes widened, breath caught in your throat. “Sunghoon—”
But he kissed you again—this time slower, deeper, like he was trying to burn the taste of you into memory. Like he wanted Jake to see exactly what you meant to him.
Jake cleared his throat awkwardly behind you. “Dude, seriously?”
Sunghoon pulled away just enough to turn his head, his arm still locked around your waist.
“Yeah,” he said flatly, eyes cold. “Seriously.”
Jake looked between you two, lips parting like he wanted to say something smart—but for once, he didn’t. He just blinked, muttered something under his breath, and grabbed his mug to leave the kitchen.
As soon as he was gone, you turned back to Sunghoon, dazed and breathless.
“…What the hell was that?”
His eyes searched yours, like he couldn’t believe he just did that either. But the flush creeping up his neck said everything he wouldn’t.
“I’m not just your roommate,” he said hoarsely. “And he’s not just a friend. Not when he looks at you like that.”
You stared at him, stunned.
Then a smile tugged at your lips.
“Took you long enough.”
You barely made it to the bedroom before Sunghoon had you pinned against the door, mouth already on your neck, hands roaming with a desperation that had been building for weeks—months, maybe.
“Fucking knew he wanted you,” he growled against your skin, nipping hard just below your ear, “but he’s not the one you come home to, is he?”
You shook your head, breath catching. “N-No.”
“Say it.”
“He’s not,” you gasped. “He’s not you.”
Sunghoon kissed you again, rough and possessive, tugging at the hem of your shirt until it was over your head and on the floor. His eyes dragged down your body like he was seeing it for the first time—like Jake’s hands on you had flipped a switch he couldn’t shut off.
“You’re mine,” he said lowly, pushing you back until your knees hit the edge of the bed. “Mine to look at. Mine to fuck. Not his.”
Then he shoved you down.
You bounced lightly against the mattress, eyes wide and lips parted, heat pooling between your thighs at the sight of him stripping off his shirt and tossing it aside. He crawled over you, caging you in, and leaned down until your noses were nearly touching.
“Bet he thought about it last night,” he whispered. “You in that hoodie. No panties underneath. Just walking around like that.”
You whimpered, his hand sliding between your legs, pressing through the damp fabric of your underwear.
“He doesn’t get to know what you sound like when you beg,” he murmured. “But he’s about to hear it.”
He yanked your panties down, tossing them somewhere behind him, and spread your thighs wide open with a firm grip. His eyes were dark, wild, hungry.
“Say my name,” he ordered as he dipped his head between your legs.
“Sunghoon—!”
You cried out the second his tongue touched you, hot and wet and unrelenting. He licked into you with long, slow strokes, groaning against your heat like he needed it. One arm hooked around your thigh, keeping you locked in place as your hips bucked up toward his face.
Every gasp, every moan, every yes, right there, echoed loud and clear through the thin walls.
And Sunghoon made no effort to be quiet. In fact, he made it louder.
He pulled off for just a second, voice thick and soaked in pride.
“Think he’s listening, baby?” he panted, licking his lips. “Think he knows I’m the one making you cum?”
You could barely answer before he buried two fingers inside you, curling just right, and sucked your clit back into his mouth.
You shattered.
Your thighs clamped around his head, back arching off the bed as you cried his name like a prayer—over and over again.
Sunghoon didn’t stop until you were shaking, flushed, completely wrecked.
Then he climbed up your body, kissing your collarbone, your jaw, your lips—messy and deep and full of everything he hadn’t said before.
“You think he can make you feel like that?” he whispered, lining himself up at your entrance. “Let him listen to what he can’t have.”
And then he pushed in.
Hard.
You both moaned—loud, shameless, hungry. The bed rocked under the force of his thrusts, the headboard slamming against the wall. You couldn’t stop the sounds he dragged out of you even if you wanted to—whimpers and cries and broken sobs of please, more, don’t stop.
Sunghoon gritted his teeth, gripping your hips tight. “Yeah… that’s it. Louder. Let him fucking hear how good I make you feel.”
He angled his hips and hit that spot—your voice cracked.
“Sunghoon—fuck—!”
He leaned down, lips brushing your ear.
“That’s right, baby,” he growled. “Scream for me.”
735 notes · View notes
ninesbey0nd · 2 months ago
Text
My Dearest Friend College AU! Caleb x Reader
Tumblr media
SYNOPSIS. When you committed to your university, you never expected to reunite with your childhood best friend, Caleb. When your mom urges you to help him move in, your friendship seems to take a turn.
PAIRING. Aerospace Engineering Major! Caleb x Graphic Design Major! Reader (afab/fem reader)
GENRE. friends to lovers, childhood friends, mutual pining, eventual smut, possessive! Caleb, Dom! Caleb
WARNINGS. Profanity, Alcohol Consumption, NSFW, unprotected sex (wrap ya willy!), penetrative sex, fingering, oral (receiving), Breeding Kink, Obsessive themes WORD COUNT. 7.4k
PART 1 - PART 2 - ?
if you wanna be added to my tag list lmk! :) <3
(I've returned with an obsession for LADS LMAO enjoy <3)
“That’s the last one,” Caleb mumbled, kicking his heel out to prop his dorm door open for you. You nodded curtly at his gesture, holding your breath while you carried in the last box of his belongings. You let out a soft pant, setting down the heavy bin of God knows what.
“It’s no problem! Really,” you insisted, your gaze shifting up to meet his soft lavender eyes.
🍎
The day before your mother had pulled you aside after dinner, scolding you for being a bad friend and not keeping in touch with Caleb.
“I mean, how do you not realize the boy you’ve grown up with is attending the same college as you?” She chided, aggressively scrubbing the dishes that had piled up in your kitchen sink.
“I don’t know, Mom,” you groaned, propping yourself up against the kitchen counter. “Don’t get me wrong, Caleb and I are friendly with one another, but I guess the topic of college never came up?” You cringed your shoulders. Sure, you and Caleb exchanged a few pleasantries here and there, but there was never too much the two of you had to talk about; not like there was any unsettled business or sour feelings.
“Well, you're lucky his mother and I keep in frequent contact hm?” Your mom hummed, the ceramic clinking of plates filling the air as she shut the now-filled dishwasher. “You should help him move into the dorms tomorrow, his poor mother has knee problems and you’re young and spry.”
You slumped over, your shoulders hanging heavy in the air. The last thing you wanted to do was wake up early and be on campus before school even started, but your mom seemed pretty insistent that you help the poor boy and spare his mother’s aching joints.
“Okay, okay. I’ll find my way over there and see what I can do, alright?” You let out a sigh as your mom shoots you a grateful smile.
🍎
“So,” you feign a cough to break the silence. “Did you want help unpacking?” You found yourself leaning against the bare metal bed frame, scanning the room around you. Somehow, this man had managed to score a single – and a pretty spacious one at that. Although the room was bare now, knowing Caleb it’d probably be properly unpacked and prim in a few hours.
“You don’t have to do all that, pipsqueak. I can handle it,” He assured with a smile, his eyes crinkled into small half-mooned crescents. He was knelt down beside a bin, popping the lid open and beginning the search for his packed bedding. He stood up with a simple gray sheet in his hand, turning toward your direction.
“Are you sure? I really don’t mind helping,” you reached a hand outward, grabbing onto the sheet and beginning to spread it along the expanse of the oh-so-small twin bed. Neatly tucking the sheet beneath the corner of the mattress, you snuck a glance at Caleb. You could tell he was a bit surprised at your forwardness but nonetheless appreciated it and followed suit in your movements.
The two of you spent the next few hours unpacking and organizing his dorm – from making the bed to helping him hang his clothes.
“Wait (Y/N), don’t open that one –” too late. Your hands had already opened the box and there they were: neatly stacked and folded and in all of their glory were several pairs of boxers. Ranging from plain colors to some mixed plaids and finally on top – a pair of them with little apples scattered across the fabric.
“Oh,” was all you could muster out. You shut the lid promptly, scooting it out of the way and going to grab a different one. You peeked at him through your lashes. A hand covered half his face, and his eyes were screwed shut, a light pink color flushed against his cheeks.
“I’ll have to go through that one later,” He mused, his hand moving to rest against the back of his neck. The rest of the unpacking, much to your surprise, went smoothly. By the time you finished, his room looked as if he’d lived there the whole time.
“Thank you, (Y/N), really, I don’t think I would’ve been able to move in so quickly without your help,” he rested his weight against the edge of his now-made bed. “Can I maybe treat you to dinner?” His lips drew themselves into a thin line, his eyes meeting yours – almost as if praying to the universe that you’d accept his offer. You blinked, unsure if you had heard him right.
“Dinner?” you repeated, trying—and failing—to mask the surprise in your voice. Your gaze dropped to his hands, which were absentmindedly fiddling with a corner of the bed sheet you'd just tucked in. Caleb had always been polite, maybe even a little old-school in how he treated people. But this felt like... something else. It didn’t feel the same as that once-innocent younger boy you grew up with.
“If you want,” he clarified quickly at the end of his statement, brushing imaginary lint off his jeans and avoiding eye contact. “I just thought it’d be nice since you helped me out, and I haven’t really had a chance to thank you properly or catch up with you. There’s this little sushi place down on Main Street—I heard it’s good?”
Your lips curled slightly into a smile. “You remembered I like sushi?”
Caleb looked up at you then, the corner of his mouth twitching. “(Y/N), you used to talk about getting sushi and miso soup all the time. That’s not something I could easily forget.”
The tension cracked a bit between you both, just enough for you to exhale a laugh. “Fine, I’ll let you treat me.”
“Done.”
🍎
Main Street was just starting to buzz with the early evening crowd when the two of you made it there. The walk from campus was short but filled with odd spurts of conversation—mostly about upcoming classes, shared childhood memories, and how you’d managed to not know you were going to the same university until your mothers brought it up.
“I still can’t believe you didn’t know,” Caleb said, nudging your elbow as you stepped into the cozy restaurant. “I mean, we literally follow each other on Instagram.”
You gave him a deadpan look. “Yeah, and you only post pictures of planes and clouds. Not exactly a location update.”
He chuckled, brushing a hand through his thick layered hair.
“Fair enough.”
After many sushi rolls were consumed, something shifted. Maybe it was the home-y comfort food or the nostalgic laughter, but you started to feel less like acquaintances and more like... (Y/N) and Caleb again. The way you’d been before high school and moving vans and awkward teenage silences.
“So, graphic design, huh?” Caleb asked as he leaned back in his seat. “That tracks. You used to doodle all over your homework.”
You shrugged, twirling a straw in your drink. “Yeah, well... what can I say. I have a passion for creating, I love the nature of art.”
He grinned. “I think it suits you. You’ve always had an eye for stuff like that. Colors, symmetry.”
“And you?” you raised a brow. “Aerospace engineering? Trying to fly away from all your responsibilities?”
“Obviously,” he deadpanned. “But mostly, I just want to build something that ends up out there.” He motioned toward the sky, as if you could see the stars from the restaurant booth. “It’s... grounding, in a weird way.”
The table fell quiet for a moment. You were watching him now, not just the boy you used to ride bikes with, but the person he’d become. Grounded and lofty all at once.
🍎
The weeks that followed passed in a blur of syllabi, campus events, and more run-ins with Caleb than you could count. Which was odd, considering he practically made a home for himself in the campus library.
He texted you after class the next day. [CALEB]: Can I borrow your notes from Design Theory? I think I slept through half of it with my eyes open.
You replied with a smirking emoji and a PDF of your notes.
[(Y/N)]: don’t thank me too much :p
Later that week, you knocked lightly on his dorm door, a physics textbook hugged to your chest. “I know this is your thing sooo,” you said, wincing slightly as you walked through his doorway. “If I have to look at one more vector diagram without understanding it, I might combust.”
“Come in,” he grinned, stepping aside. “Let’s trade. Physics help for some sketching practice and coaching?”
Before long, helping each other became second nature—him hunched over your Laptop, poking at your Illustrator file, while you scribbled equations on a whiteboard in his room. You teased him for his weirdly good eye for visual hierarchy; he claimed your physics doodles were actually better than some of the diagrams in his textbook.
And somewhere in the midst of study sessions and late-night diner runs, you realized you didn’t dread waking up for early campus mornings anymore. Especially if they meant seeing Caleb—your not-so-new, not-so-distant friend.
🍎
The hum of the fluorescent lights in the academic building were steady, almost comforting as you sat hunched over a large spread of design theory notes. You’d tucked yourself into one of the small study pods, surrounded by empty tables and soft chatter from other students who passed by in a hurry.
The walls were lined with modern art—colorful abstract pieces and intricate geometric designs—and, despite the chill in the air, the room had a familiar warmth to it. It was a place where you could focus. A place where you could get lost in your work and forget the looming deadlines of projects and exams.
But even in this quiet corner, you found it hard to concentrate. Your mind kept drifting back to the conversation you’d had with Caleb the night before. He’d called to ask for a quick study session for his upcoming art examination, which had caught you a bit off guard. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a hard worker, but you hadn’t expected him to reach out for something like that.
Your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. You glanced down at the screen, half-expecting a random notification, but no—there it was. A text from Caleb.
[CALEB]: Be there in 5. Save me a seat :)
A soft smile pulled at the corner of your lips, and you quickly rearranged your things to make room for him. It was almost second nature how he could slide back into your life without much effort at all.
🍎
Five minutes passed, then ten. You were just beginning to wonder if maybe something had come up when you finally saw him.
Caleb’s unmistakable figure appeared at the entrance, his tall frame easily cutting through the crowd of students. As he stepped into the study space, his eyes scanned the room, and then, as if he had a built-in radar for where you were sitting, they found yours.
He smiled that familiar little smile, the one that always made you feel like you were home. He began walking toward you, his steps light, but just as he was about to reach the table, a girl approached him.
She was holding a stack of papers, her hair pulled back into a high ponytail. Her eyes were wide, too wide, almost as if she had been waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Caleb stopped in his tracks, his hand still halfway to his back pocket.
“Hey,” the girl said, flashing a bright, slightly nervous smile. “Are you Caleb? I’m in your thermodynamics class, and—um, I was wondering if you could maybe give me your number? I’m trying to form a study group and... I thought it’d be great to have you be a part of it – I mean, you’re like the smartest guy in class.”
You watched the exchange with a raised eyebrow. Caleb was silent for a moment, his posture stiffening slightly as if he wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. But when his gaze flickered back toward you, the tension in his shoulders eased, and his lips curled into a soft, almost apologetic smile toward the girl.
“Sorry,” Caleb said, his tone polite but firm. “I don’t think I’m the best person to study with right now. I’m actually going to study with my girlfriend right now.”
The girl seemed momentarily taken aback but didn’t push further. She forced a smile, awkwardly nodded, and then turned on her heel, leaving Caleb free to make his way over to you.
You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped as he finally sat down across from you, his expression a mixture of bemusement and relief.
“Girlfriend, huh?” you teased, folding your arms over your chest.
He grinned, shaking his head as he unpacked his own materials. “I figured it was a pretty good excuse to get out of whatever she was trying to rope me into,” he admitted with a small smile.
You raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh, and what’s wrong with her wanting your number?”
Caleb shot you a sheepish glance. “Well, I’m just not interested in giving my number to people who ask.”
Your gaze softened, and you met his eyes. For a moment, there was a quiet understanding between you two. Caleb had always been popular amongst his peers, or so you heard from your mother. He never had a girlfriend, though, ever. could tell it wasn’t just about the number. It was about his priorities—about what mattered to him right now.
“Alright,” you said, tapping your pencil on the table. “So... about that study session?”
He nodded, settling into his chair and pulling out a notebook from his bag. “Right. I’m actually kind of freaking out about this art exam. I know it’s not physics or anything, but I just... I don’t know. I guess I haven’t done a ton of art since high school, and now it feels like I’m starting from scratch.”
You tilted your head, considering his words. “You’ve always had an eye for it, Caleb. You’ve just... gotta remember how to channel it. Let me see what you’ve got so far.”
He hesitated for a second but then slid his sketchbook over to you. The pages were filled with rough sketches—abstract patterns, geometric designs, and some minimalist ideas that had potential. As you flipped through, you could tell there was talent there, but it needed focus. Toward the last page, however, you lingered. There had been a few rough sketches scattered across the parchment of…. Your face?
Caleb cleared his throat, reaching a hand over the page and quickly snatching the book out of your grasp. When you looked up at him, he shot you a sheepish grin, tucking the book away.
“Okay,” you rolled your eyes, jotting down a few notes in your own notebook. “Let’s start with these basic shapes. You’ve got the right idea, but you need to play with the proportions and scale a bit more. Add some layers. Make it breathe.”
Caleb nodded, leaning forward as you helped walk him through how to refine his sketches. The two of you got into a rhythm, bouncing ideas back and forth, and by the time the sun was beginning to set, you’d worked through most of the exam material.
As you closed the last notebook, Caleb sat back and stretched. “Thanks, (Y/N),” he said, his voice a little more relaxed. “I think I actually feel ready for this now. Seriously, I don’t think I would’ve been able to do this without your help.”
You smiled at him, but before you could respond, Caleb’s tone shifted slightly. He glanced at his watch and then at you, his eyes brightening.
“So, I know we’ve been working hard... but how about a little reward?” he said, his voice low enough to almost sound like a secret. “How about you come over to my place tonight? I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” You asked, intrigued but also cautious. “What kind of surprise?”
“Trust me,” Caleb said with a mischievous grin, “I’m sure you’ll like where it’s going.”
You raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help feeling curious. “Alright, I’m intrigued. I’ll meet you there after dinner.”
Caleb smiled and gave you a nod. “It’s a deal. Later, pipsqueak.”
As he packed up his things and left, you found yourself trying to push away the small flutter in your stomach. A surprise? What could it be?
But whatever it was, you knew Caleb wouldn’t let you down.
🍎
“Caleb?” Your knuckles rapped against his dorm door, awaiting his presence. A muffled voice interrupts your train of thought.
“Coming, coming.” You hear a few sounds of rustling before footsteps, and an open door greets you. “You’re early, pipsqueak.” His hand reaches up to ruffle your hair, soon after traveling down to your lower back, where he ushers you inside his room.
“I couldn’t keep my best friend waiting, could I?” You found yourself kicking off your shoes, hopping onto his made bed, and propping yourself up amongst his pillows.
Caleb shut the door behind you, giving you a look you couldn’t quite read—something between amused and nervous.
“So…” you began, stretching your legs across his mattress, “what’s this big surprise? You’re not secretly making me tutor you for another hour, are you?”
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, no physics tonight. I swear.”
Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Then what?”
He walked over to his desk, where a neatly folded outfit—a casual button-down and his nicer jeans—lay waiting. “We’re going out.”
You blinked. “Out? Like... out out?”
“To the frat party,” he said, shooting you a grin. “It’s supposed to be huge tonight. And,” he added quickly, “I figured you deserved a night off for basically saving my academic life.”
You stared at him, momentarily stunned. “You want to go to a frat party?”
“Okay, I know, I’m not exactly the party guy,” Caleb admitted with a smirk. “But hey—first semester of college, right? Why not make a few fun memories?”
You narrowed your eyes at him but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “You better not make me regret this.”
Caleb raised his hand in mock solemnity. “I would never.”
🍎
The Delt party was exactly what you expected—loud, chaotic, pulsing with music, and crowded with students dressed just a little too nicely for a night of spilled drinks and uncoordinated dancing. The backyard was strung with fairy lights, a small fire crackling in the distance, the scent of cheap beer and woodsmoke clinging to the air.
You stuck close to Caleb’s side as you navigated through the crowd. He handed you a drink, his fingers brushing yours for a split second longer than necessary. You tried not to read too much into it.
“Alright,” he said over the music, raising his cup. “To passing art exams and not dying in physics.”
You clinked your cup to his. “I’ll drink to that.”
As the night wore on, Caleb grew a little... different. Not bad—just looser. His words started to slur slightly, and his usual guarded posture gave way to easier smiles and more frequent touches. A hand on your shoulder here, a lingering glance there.
“You know, (Y/N),” he said, leaning in close as you both sat near the fire, the flickering light dancing in his eyes. “You’re kind of amazing.”
You blinked, surprised by the sudden sincerity in his tone. “You’re drunk.”
He laughed, nudging you with his shoulder. “A little. But I still mean it.”
You looked at him, unsure how to respond. You’d never seen Caleb like this before—unguarded, open. A little vulnerable.
“You’ve always been this... bright thing in my life, (Y/N). Even when we weren’t talking much in high school. I always remembered stuff about you. Like how you hate pencils that are too sharp. Or how you hum when you draw, even if you don’t realize it. I noticed.”
You stared at him, lips slightly parted.
“I didn’t forget you,” he continued, voice quieter now, eyes fully on you. “Not once. Not ever. You never left my mind.”
The world around you blurred—the music, the laughter, the distant cheer of someone winning a drinking game—and all you could hear was your heartbeat and Caleb’s words.
“Caleb I –,” You shook your head in disbelief. “You’re drunk, we should get you back to your room.” Your hand latched onto his wrist, attempting to flee the scene of the party but his arm pulled taught; he didn’t budge.
“Caleb? Come on,” You yanked against his arm again, only to be tugged inward toward his chest. His movement was sloppy, tucking his arm to his side to bring you back in his vicinity.
“I’m being serious (Y/N),” he leaned down over you, his breath tickling your face; he reeked of alcohol.
You could feel your pulse flutter in your throat. The smell of cheap beer clung to him, the flush in his cheeks stark under the dim party lights. This wasn’t the version of him you were used to—the composed, quiet Caleb from your childhood. This one was raw, unfiltered, and very, very honest.
But drunk. Way too drunk.
“You’re not thinking straight,” you whispered, pushing gently against his chest. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”
He didn’t fight it this time. Just let you guide him out the door, his body swaying as he leaned into you more than necessary, like your presence alone was grounding him. A couple of times, you felt his chin bump into the back of your head. He had been leaning over you, drinking in your scent as you walked him back to his dorm.
The cold night air hit hard, sobering your thoughts if not his. You kept a firm grip on his wrist as you led him across campus, trying not to focus on how his fingers crept up and subtly intertwined with yours.
By the time you reached his dorm, Caleb was quiet—too quiet. You helped him fumble with the keycard and finally shoved his dorm door open.
“Sit down,” you instructed, guiding him to the bed. “I’ll get you water.”
But the moment you turned toward the tiny dorm fridge, a hand reached out and caught your forearm.
“Why do you think I’m lying?” his words were slower now, but clear. “Why does everyone think drunk people can’t tell the truth?”
You met his gaze over your shoulder. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, one elbow on his knee, head tilted up to look at you with those sharp lilac eyes.
“It’s not about lying, Caleb,” you said softly. “It’s just… this might not be something you feel tomorrow. And I don’t want to be a mistake you regret.”
He stood then, slowly, like he was trying to keep his balance in more ways than one. “You think I wouldn’t remember wanting you?”
Your breath caught.
He gently pulled you closer to where he sat, carefully, almost reverently. His hand released your arm and crept up toward your face, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve wanted you since high school, (Y/N). Ever since we met and bonded over that stupid Pokémon game.”
You tried to laugh. Failed. Your heart caught in your throat.
“Caleb…”
“I’m not trying to push you,” he said, though the way his hand lingered against your cheek made it hard to believe – his thumb swiping gentle strokes across your skin. “But if I don’t do this now, I’m scared I’ll never do it.”
Before you could respond, his lips were on yours.
It was soft, surprisingly gentle. A question, not a demand.
His mouth tasted of that sour alcohol aftertaste and desperation, but there was something else under it: warmth, sincerity.
It would’ve been easy to give in.
But you pulled back, your heart practically pounding out of your ribcage. “Caleb, you’re drunk,” you reminded him, more to yourself than him.
His forehead leaned against yours. “I know,” he whispered. “But I’m not wrong. And I’m not a liar.”
You stood there in the quiet hum of the dorm room, the distance between you barely inches, your brain mush.
“Please, (Y/N)?” His head still tilted upward to meet your gaze, his eyes pleading; full of desperation and raw need.
“Caleb I –,” you leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for just a moment of frustration. “You’re drunk – like what if you don’t actually want this? What if you regret something?”
He cut you off, gently taking your chin between his fingers and tilting your face back to his. “(Y/N),” he paused, a beat passed as his eyes bore into yours. “If you would just believe me, and allow me, I could be fucking you on this bed right now.” His voice was low and rough with desire, his gaze never once leaving yours as he spoke.
“And if you think this is just a drunk man talking, then fuck,” He reached his other arm out to cup both your cheeks, leaning up toward you to get impossibly closer. “Id fuck you ten times harder tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day after that.” His voice was barely above a whisper, his lips grazing yours for just a second.
You swallowed hard, bottom lip twitching as you held yourself back from the urge to leap into his grasp right then and there. “Caleb,” you sighed into his grasp, your hand brushing against the back of his. You could feel your resolve practically crumbling at his gestures and sweet words. Maybe, he really did mean it?
“Are you positive?” You pulled away, your eyes pierced him with a sudden seriousness as if there was a shift in the atmosphere.
“(Y/N),” His eyes searched your face for your expression, his breathing stalled for a moment before he took a deep breath in. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.” Before you could get your bearings, he sat up straighter, leaning up and crashing his lips against yours. His lips were soft and plush, gently molding along yours with tenderness. Behind the sweet kiss, however, was a hunger in the way his hands slowly raked down your body. From your face, down to tracing over your shoulders and finally where his hands found purchase at the top of your hips. His fingers dug into your skin greedily, pulling you closer and between his legs that hung off the twin bed. You felt his tongue swipe across your bottom lip, his teeth sinking into your skin. You blinked in surprise, eyes quickly screwing shut and melding into his touch. Your lips parted, allowing him to slip past your teeth and into your mouth. His tongue swirled along yours and you felt him melt, a soft groan escaping from him as he furthered his motions. You inevitably pulled away to take in a breath, a thin string of saliva connecting the two of you. His hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you firmly onto his lap - your legs straddled his hips. He exhaled sharply, pulling you down harder against him. You could practically feel his hardening length growing - pressing against your inner thigh.
“Caleb-” Your statement was cut short, feeling his hands slide up from your hips, his finger tips inching under the hem of your shirt until his hands lay flush against your skin. His eyes trailed up your body, eventually settling on yours steadily as his fingers crept higher and higher. He held the stare, his eyes filled with longing; with absolute need. 
“Please,” Caleb’s voice sounded shaky, his breathing turned ragged. His fingers stopped just beneath the wire of your bra, tracing along the curve of your breast. “Can I?” He spoke softly, almost as if you’d shatter if he raised his voice any louder. His hand had wrapped around your back, the tips of his fingers running along the clasp of the undergarment. 
When you gave him a silent nod of understanding, he wasted no time pinching at the metal clasps, unhooking each one skillfully. The piece of clothing slumped off your shoulders, settling loosely at the bottom of your waist. His hands drifted down your spine, his fingers fiddling with the back of your shirt. His thumbs hooked under your garment, beginning to push the fabric up and over your head. Once your shirt was completely off, he wasted no time tossing it somewhere across his room without a second thought. His gaze darkened, drinking in the sight of your bare chest. His eyes dragged across your skin, to your lips, back to your half-lidded eyes. 
“You’re beautiful, (Y/N).” He breathed, a hand cradling the side of your face and pulling you into another kiss. Unlike the first time, this felt different. His lips were hungry; biting and sucking at your lips as if trying to consume you on the spot. As he cradled your face close, his other hand had crept up from your hips, cupping your breast between his fingers. His index finger met his thumb, pinching and rolling your now hardened nipple. You let out a gasp, mouth slightly agape as he continued his ministrations. His lips eventually left yours, moving along your jawline and sucking softly on the skin just below your ear. He hummed against your skin, the soft peppering of kisses turned to more aggressive and needy biting, surely leaving marks of pleasure in his wake. You felt yourself turn to putty in his hands, your eyes fluttering shut. 
He seemed to be growing impatient, a guttural groan escaping his throat. His hands left you for a moment, before suddenly gripping your thighs that hugged him. You opened your mouth to comment, and found yourself mid-air before being set back down onto his mattress. 
“What are you-?” You felt Caleb shove you down onto the expanse of his bed, your back falling into the plush of his blankets. He crawled between your legs, his fingers dragging down your navel to the band of your pants. “Shut up and just… let me,” He mumbled, his hands tugging down the fabric of your bottoms hastily. He gripped your thighs roughly, spreading them as he bent himself forward, nestling his face between your legs. “I need you, (Y/N). Right fucking now.” He breathed, his breath fanning over your inner thighs. He pressed kisses along your thigh and over your clothed core, hovering just a moment longer over the wet spot that had begun to grow on your panties. You could feel him take a deep breath before his fingers hooked into the sides of the flimsy fabric, tearing it down your thighs roughly. 
“Fuck Caleb,” you exhaled, looking down at the boy nuzzled up between your now naked bottom half. His jaw was tight as he looked back up at you through his dark lashes, his hands spreading your thighs wider. He repositioned himself slightly, a visible tent in his pants making it quite obvious of his desire. He realized he had never seen you in such a position before - so vulnerable, bare, delicate. He, of course, had imagined this scenario countless times in his head but the reality of the situation was so much sweeter than he could’ve ever dreamt of. 
“(Y/N),” he breathed, inching his face closer to your arousal. His fingers danced closer to your inner thighs, tracing small patterns along the sensitive skin. “Are you…” The pad of his thumb brushed against your wet folds for just a brief moment, making you shiver. “Are you absolutely sure you want this? ‘Cause once I start,” he paused, his voice dropping into a low and husky tone. “Once I taste you, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself.” 
You shuddered at his words, the growing need between your thighs growing hotter with each passing moment. “Caleb, I need you.” You reached down to tangle your fingers into Caleb’s head of hair. Your words edged him on, and you felt as if a switch had flicked on inside his mind. He leaned forward without another word, pressing a soft kiss to your center before opening you up with his thumbs. He dragged his tongue up your folds, a groan eliciting out of him and rumbling against you. His tongue flicked up and down before pulling away briefly to take a breath.
“Fuck (Y/N)…” He drawled, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip and lapping up any juices that had remained on his mouth. You looked down briefly, your eyes meeting his for a second. “You taste divine,” he mumbled before diving back between your legs, his tongue beginning a reckless assault on your core. You twitched, feeling his tongue swipe over your most intimate parts. You let out a strained gasp when you felt him tease a finger over your hole. He hummed in response - you could feel his lips curve into a smile as they vibrated against your delicate skin. He pressed the pad of his index finger to your clit, rubbing small circles to the sensitive bud. “Look at my pretty girl, so wet.” He muses before dipping his finger down and into your sopping cunt. His finger pumps in and out of you with precision, as if he had known exactly what your body needed. 
“Caleb,” you let out a muffled cry, feeling yourself clench around his single digit. His lips press kisses to your pussy before his tongue finds itself attached to your clit - his lips engulfing you whole as lewd sounds of slurping filled his dorm room. 
“I love it when you say my name, baby. Say it again.” You could barely understand the sentence that left his mouth, his lips too focused on tasting you. His one hand gripped onto your thigh tightly, his nails digging into your skin, surely to leave crescent indents. His dominant hand, however, was ever so busy curling his finger into you. You felt him nudge a second finger toward your entrance, quickly adding it between pumps. He scissored and stretched out your hole, his tongue gliding down to kitten lick your walls. When he pushed his fat, wet muscle into you, you swore you could see stars. 
“Fuck Caleb-,” you swore silently. His ever-so-soft tongue slid in and out with ease, pushing itself along your insides and feasting upon you as if you were his last meal. He loved how responsive you were to his touch: he could feel every little twitch, every shiver, every moan you fought to hold back. He spread you wider with his fingers, trying to shove his tongue impossibly deeper into you. 
“You’re so sensitive, baby. You’re doing so good for me.” He said between long licks, his breath tickling your lower half as he spoke. 
Your face felt hot. As if you were drunk on the sight of Caleb. How perfectly he seemed to know your body, how well he took care of you. You would be lying to yourself if you said you’d never imagined having sex with Caleb before, but never did you imagine he would feel this good. 
You were snapped back to reality when Caleb pressed a harsh kiss to your pussy, his fingers now pumping in and out of you desperately. His lips suctioned around your clit once more, his tongue running swirls over the sensitive nub as he fingered you. 
You let out a shaky exhale, “Caleb.” You warned, feeling yourself clench around his fingers, and that familiar feeling of a coil waiting to snap was building in your stomach. 
“Yeah, baby? Are you gonna be a good girl?” His fingers did a delicious twist inside of you, making you clench your thighs around his head. You felt your body arch into his touch, wanting to feel his fingers deeper within. You panted, your hands gripping the blanket beneath you as you felt him reach knuckle deep into your walls. Your breathing became more and more ragged with each thrust of his fingers, his tongue working deep circles into your clit - it was all so much at once. You could feel him saying something, the deep vibrations from his voice shaking you to your core, but the thoughts in your head had turned off; hearing nothing but white noise as he mercilessly pumped his fingers in and out of you at a ruthless pace. 
“You’re mine, (Y/N).” He breathed, feeling your body begin to tremble under his touch. “Say it. Say you’re mine,” He urged, his tongue messily swiping along your folds.
“I’m yours, - God Caleb, please.” Your hand gripped his hair, fingers digging into his scalp desperately. Your thighs clamped around his face, your head lying backward into the pillows as you stared up at the ceiling with a half-lidded gaze. You were getting so close, and he could tell. 
“You’re taking my fingers so well baby, won’t you cum around my fingers? Please?” His pleading words are music to your ears, lulling you into your high. You feel your legs begin to violently shake; Caleb’s hand pinning your thigh down as he ate you through your climax, groaning in his own enjoyment. Eventually, after you’ve ridden out your high he tilts his head up, his chin slick with your juices. He wipes the wetness off himself with his thumb, popping his fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean. 
“Look at you, my pretty girl.” He sits himself up between your legs, his eyes traveling up your body. 
“Caleb I-,” you propped yourself up onto your elbows, your hand reaching greedily past his face and down to his belt. “I need you,” you said in a hushed tone, your chest rising and falling with each word.
A darkness filled his eyes as a smile graced his lips, the corners eagerly twitching up into a cocked smirk. “As you wish,” His fingers fiddled with the buttons of his jeans, pushing them down in one fluid motion, taking his boxers with them as well. When you looked down you saw his thick cock poke out from the confines of his pants. His hand wrapped around the root of his cock, giving himself slow pumps as his eyes met yours from above. Something had shifted in him, his expression more hungry. Animalistic. You feel him lean over you, his free hand resting beside your head and caging you in his grasp. You feel the tip of his cock press against your soaked folds, sliding up and down your slit in a slow teasing manner. 
“Caleb,” you whined, scooting yourself down toward him to try and relieve the pressure building between your legs. “Don’t,” he warned, his hand moving from himself to grip your hip, pressing you against the mattress firmly. He took his time teasing himself against you before nudging himself inside of you, bottoming out with a muffled groan. You inhaled sharply, feeling him stretch you out all at once.
“Fuck (Y/N), you feel so good,” He panted above you, both his arms now pressed against the mattress on either side of you. He stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to his size. His body betrayed him, as he felt his hips begin to move on their own. He pulled back slightly before snapping his hips forward, the loud sound of skin on skin rang out in the air. You let out a surprised yelp, feeling him re-enter your swollen tunnel. You pressed a hand over your mouth, trying to contain the noises that threatened to spill from your lips. 
“Oh no no no,” Caleb’s hand wrapped around yours, pulling your hand off your face and pressing it above your head. “I wanna hear you say my name. Over and over and over again.” He rolled his hips into you, leaning his head down to press a kiss to your jaw. His lips parted, beginning to suck on the tender skin. 
“Caleb, fuck-.” You breathed heavily, exhaling as he pleased you in all the right places.
“That's it, baby, say it again.” He urges you, his hips rolling into yours faster, picking up his pace. He began pistoning in and out of you, small pants and moans as his hips smacked into yours. You reached up around his neck, pulling him back into you for a fervent kiss. Your lips melded together, tongues roaming into each other's mouths as he pounded into you. Your nails clawed into him as he rammed into you, hitting that sweet spot over and over again. You felt his pace become faster and more erratic the more you clenched around his length. He knew you were getting close. He broke the kiss for a second, his head dropping down in earshot.
“You’re being such a good girl (Y/N),” he exhaled, his breath hot and tickling against the shell of your ear. “Tell me, who do you belong to?” His thrusts slowed into a tantalizing pace, the force behind each motion growing. 
You gripped the sheets beneath you, whining as he slowly ruined you. “You, Caleb,” you paused, a choked noise escaping your throat as he bottomed out in you. “Caleb I’m yours- Fuck,” you moaned, your lower half arching into his cock. 
“Yeah?” Caleb picked up his pace slightly, his hand reaching down to caress your face. He cupped your cheek before his fingertips trailed down to the valley between your breasts. “Should I fill you up with my seed? Make you full with my kids?” His hips began mercilessly slamming into you, both your moans drowned out by the overwhelming sound of skin on skin. His brows furrowed as he threw his head back, feeling you engulf him completely. His hands both found your waist, gripping onto your soft flesh for stability as he chased his high. The more you clenched around him, approaching your own climax, the faster his hips snapped into yours. 
“Caleb I’m gonna-,” Your voice cracked, the coil snapping in your stomach as you came hard around his cock.
“Fuck (Y/N), I’m gonna- fill you up so good. Gonna make you pregnant with my children.” His thrusts became sloppy and desperate, his body tensing as you gripped him impossibly tighter. With a final thrust, he came undone, spilling his fluids inside of you; pumping you full of himself. You could feel his cock twitch with every rope of cum he shot inside of you, you’d never felt so full before. He was breathless for a moment, his eyes bore into yours with a deep flash of desire and something more primal, more possessive. When he eventually separated himself from you, he let out a small exhale of satisfaction. You twitched at his exit, feeling his fluid begin to leak out of your sensitive hole. 
“Don’t let it go to waste now, hm?” Calebs fingers ghosted along your folds, swiping up any escaping cum and stuffing it back into your pussy. You shuddered and let out a soft whine, feeling his fingers penetrate you briefly. “So sensitive,” he mused, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Are you okay, pipsqueak?” His hand moved up to settle on your thigh, pulling you close to him.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” you reached up to cup his face in your hands, pressing a peck to his lips.
“Let me go grab you some water, alright? Just give me a second.” He slowly sat up and out of bed, reaching over you to pull his bed cover over your bare body. He fussed with your hair like he always did, and grabbed his pants from the foot of the bed. Once he was fully dressed and made presentable, he grabbed his water bottle off his desk and headed outside his dorm. He paused in the door frame, leaving it open a crack. “It’s right down the hall, I won’t be long.” He gave you a soft smile before disappearing down the hallway, his door slowly closing shut with a soft click.
Tumblr media
Hello everyone im back xd !! After years of taking a break of writing I have found a love for LADS,, I initially wrote this fic for a friend but thought I'd post so others may indulge <3 hope you enjoy
438 notes · View notes
got-the-cheese-touch · 3 months ago
Text
More Than a Name - prologue
Harry Potter x Sirius Black's Daughter!Reader
Tumblr media
slowburn harry potter x reader
summary: your childhood is tragic. but then you meet Remus Lupin. and he helps you plant roots.
content: angst will turn into fluff, dw (wolfstar if you stare really hard at it for too long) try to find the all the young dudes reference.
a/n: okay, here's the prologue. i'm really nervous, i've never shared my writing so hopefully it's not shitty.
trigger warnings: this contains pretty heavy stuff!!! reader was told she had hallucinations. abuse in a hospital/foster care setting. mentions of her mistreatment. remus was not mentally well after sirius died, so there are some mental health issues implied. user was put on meds and therapy testing. its character development, y'all i swear i have a plan. no use of y/n, i describe the reader being small (only because she's a little kid rn)
word count: ~ 4k
ty to @thecutestgrotto for the dividers <3
Tumblr media
Your childhood was one that was void of certainty. You existed through suitcases and trunks that were never unpacked. A bedroom never decorated. A plant with no roots can never truly grow. You yourself were the result of something short lived. A one night stand. Your mother was young when you were born. Too young to want to keep you. Your father? As tangible as the wind itself. You were told he was arrested before he could meet you, before he could take you in. (You’d learn later that he cried harder when he heard you were in the muggle foster system than when he learned his sentence for Azkaban. He knew what happened to young wizards on their own.) If only he could have protected you from the inexplicable events that wreaked mayhem wherever you went. 
Hospitals would diagnose you, medicate you, and try to pick your brain. Hippie foster families would try to meditate away the craziness in your mind. Hallucinations, they said. A teenage girl running straight into the brick wall dividing platforms at King’s Cross. A woman that became a cat. Owls flutter about during the day. They were all things that should’ve been cured by pills. Foster families were frightened by your condition. Hospitals were perplexed. Special homes wanted to cure you with alternative practice. (The smell of sage still makes you want to vomit.) 
But it all changed the day two, kind looking men came and visited you in the St. Bernadette’s Home for Mentally Troubled Youth. The last resort. You sat on the bed, waiting for a med call. Your legs kicked impatiently, your arms were scarred and you picked nervously at your skin; so far in your own haze that you didn’t see the door open. You had scars from injection treatment, punishment from teachers, from angry foster parents, or the cruelty of other children. You were unhealthy. Your hair was wild, so were your eyes. His eyes. It startled Remus when he saw just how much you resemble your father. That wildness in your eyes, the way you sat with a bouncing leg. He saw your scars and the bruises around your wrists from being roughed by medical staff. He wanted to throw up. 
The creak of the wooden floor startled you. Your eyes shot up, expecting to see the angry glare of a doctor. Instead, you saw two strangers. The first was an old man with a long white beard. You were never lucky enough or so well behaved that you got visits from Santa Claus but you guessed that this is what he’d look like. He was thinner than the magical man who delivered gifts, though. He smiled at you and tilted his head, correcting the small glasses he wore on his nose. He looked at you like he knew you all your life, like he had known you before you were born. Trailing a bit behind him was a taller, nervous looking man. His sweater was pushed to his elbows and you saw his skin was scarred like yours. But his were older, deeper. Like he had tried to claw his way out of his skin. He had curly hair and sharp eyes. Not unfriendly, you thought, but withered. Like he spent his whole life waiting for a rest that wouldn’t come. When the older man spoke your name, you almost didn’t recognize it. 
You hadn’t heard your name spoken so softly. It was foreign. 
He sat down next to you and shook your hand. It was the first touch that you felt in a long time that wasn’t punishing. 
“I am Albus Dumbledore.” He said with a smile, like he’s letting you in on a secret. “Do you know who I am, young lady?” he chuckled softly when you shook your head. “No? I figured.” 
“Sir, we don’t have much time.” The nervous man’s voice was rasping and cozy. Like a scratchy woolen blanket, you thought. 
“Yes, yes,” Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively, turning back to you “I’ve come to take you away from here, child. I’m terribly sorry I took so long. I’ve only just come to learn about your state here, please forgive me.”  He truly sounded regretful. Like he himself had scarred you. “How would you like a new school? A new place to live?”
“What- Take me away?” You said, scrambling up, panicked. They’d take you to another hospital, somewhere worse. You always went somewhere worse once people picked you up from your foster homes and schools. “No, no, please I’m doing better. I'll do the therapy, the- the testing. I can’t- please, please- I’ve been trying-” Your breath was shaky, pleading. The tall man with the sweater looked away.
Remus wanted to cry. He bit the inside of his cheek and tried to focus on anything except the fact that you were Sirius’s daughter. That you were so much like him. But you weren’t like the bright, lively boy whom he spent his youth with. You were like the dull, timid creature who survived hell in Grimmauld place. 
“I promise you, it will be better, child. I can’t explain much now but we know the place for you, alright dear? You’ll be hurt no longer, I swear it.” the old man held out a wrinkly pinky finger, adorned with rings. A promise. You didn’t trust him, but you knew that adults didn’t like when you didn’t follow what they said. You looped your finger around his and nodded. 
Minutes later, you were out of the gloomy brick building that was St. Bernadette’s. You packed up your suitcase (not much packing was needed) and you were out. Just like that. The two men had stepped away from you for a moment. The taller one was upset. The two talked in hushed voices. 
“Professor, I- I can’t. In my state? I’m not- not fit for a child, let alone Sirius’s child.” You didn’t know who Sirius was. 
“You’re the closest family she has now. Her and Harry, poor things.” You didn’t know a Harry either. “There will be help for you, Remus. When your condition flares up, she will be in good hands. Hagrid can watch her, so can Minerva. But we cannot have her in a Muggle’s care any longer. Look at the poor thing.” Dumbledore placed a hand on Remus’s shoulder. “I trust you with this Lupin; he would’ve trusted you too.” With that, Dumbledore strolled inside, to talk to the doctors, you assumed. 
You were sitting on the steps outside of the building as the old man talked with the doctor’s inside. Next to you, the tall man who had yet to speak to you sat on the step. You learned his name was Remus. His long legs stretched in front of him. He said your name, just as gently as Dumbledore had.
“How old are you, mate?” He asked, glancing over at you, moving your small suitcase out of the puddle you had put it down in. You thought for a moment.
“I’m six and a half.” You replied. You weren’t sure if you really had gained that half of a year but the number made you sound older, stronger. It seemed to take something out of Remus though. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. He looked tired again.
“Merlin, Padfoot, what have you done?” He said to himself. Six years. Six years since James and Lily. Six years since Sirius. Six years since that cowardly rat, Wormtail disappeared. Six years old. She's so young, he thought. The two of you sat in silence for a few moments. 
“I was a lot like you, you know.” He said, not making eye contact. “I went to a school like this one. Where people tried to help me but never could.” He pulled at a weed that sprouted between the cracks of the step. He turned it between his fingers before tossing it. 
“Is that where you got those scars?” You ask. Your voice was quiet but curious, you didn’t want to offend him.
“Some of them. But most of ‘em have faded.” He didn’t offer any more explanation than that. You didn’t pry. He pulled out his wallet. It contained a few bills you didn’t recognize, an old train ticket, a few coins, and a crumpled up photo. He slid out the page and unfolded it, holding it out for you to see. The bodies on the page seemed to move. You needed your medication, your hallucinations were vivid. Almost real. “Look here, kid.” He pointed to a figure “Here I am,” he slid his finger to another figure on the paper, the face too old and blurry to make out. “That there is Sirius. That’s your dad.” You stared at the shifting figure. You didn’t have the chance to say anything. Dumbledore walked outside, slipping what looked like a stick into a pocket of his robe. How silly, you thought. 
After a word with Remus, Dumbledore had seemingly vanished out of thin air and you walked hand in hand with the tall man, away from the terrible building. You got onto a train with him, still waiting for the moment you’d learn about the new trial they’d test on you or the new medicine that would make you stop hallucinating. You fell asleep curled up into the seat. Remus felt a tug at his ribs. You were too much like Sirius. 
When you woke up, you were in bed. It was small but it was more comfortable than any bed in any hospital you'd ever been in. When Remus checked in on you, he explained a few things. You were going to live with him for a while and that you should try to call this place home.
He made you toast. He spread out four different kinds of spread on each corner and cut it nicely. Moony toast, he called it. You ate it alongside him quietly. You’d be happy to stay with him if you could eat toast like this. 
“Are you my new dad?” You asked between bites. This made him flinch. He thought about what to say for a long time before he sighed. 
“Just eat your toast, mate.”
Tumblr media
Life with Remus wasn’t easy, but it was happy. You finally had roots. You laughed with him and he’d patch up your knees when you fell. He’d disappear for a few days every month and he’d come back looking hurt but you got used to it. Besides, kind people watched you while he was gone. Sometimes, a cat would just sit on the window and watch you when you were alone. She would let you pet her while Remus went on day trips to get his own medication. You thought it was weird but you couldn’t complain.
For the first time, you had your own room. You decorated it with Remus, too. You folded paper and made little garlands. He gave you some posters from your dad. He gave you lots of Sirius’s stuff, in fact. Your favorite was an old worn leather jacket. It swallowed you up but you would use it as a blanket at night. You imagined your dad wearing it. It made Remus happy when you wore it. So you rarely took it off. You also got lots of photos. Boxes of them. Some were taken from Sirius’s camera, which Remus kept for himself. This time, when you saw some of these photos moving, you learned they weren’t hallucinations. 
When you were old enough, Dumbledore came back. You remembered his kindness so you trusted him fully when he explained to you about wizards and witches. You were sad when you learned of your father and his crimes. Remus tensed when Dumbledore explained this.
Dumbledore told you everything, not even leaving out Remus’s lycanthropy. You never felt frightened. You loved your Remus. (You finally understood why the people that looked after you in his absence called him Moony.) For the first time, you weren’t afraid when you learned about a new school for you. Hogwarts was a magical school. One without doctors or therapy trials. You were excited to go and you would count the days to receive your acceptance letter.
The only upsetting thing, surprisingly, was when you realized that you weren’t a psycho. 
That you never hallucinated or needed therapy. 
You didn’t need to go through all of that testing.
The homes, the abuse, the scars and bruises.
You bled for nothing.
You weren't a kid who needed to be hit, you just needed a parent.
When he saw the look on your face, Remus became upset at this. He didn't like to think about what you went through. Didn't like thinking about the time before you were a silly, crazy kid. When you were small and bruised and looked like a caged animal. Like a wild dog.
Remus wiped his cheek.
You were mad. Mad at your teachers and doctors and previous foster parents. You were mad at your dad. Very mad at your dad. He couldn’t be there for you so you suffered. It’s his fault you were a wizard, it was his blood that made you be this way. It's him who made you see these things, so you blamed him.
Remus told you stories about Sirius to try to reassure you about your father. That he was good. He was funny and bright and just like you. It didn’t help though. You still resented Sirius. Maybe he wasn’t a killer, but he wasn’t there for you like he should have been. You heard stories of his family and friends. How he was a prankster. You loved to hear stories about him. Not because of your affection for your father, though.
You liked to hear stories of Sirius because Remus was happier talking about the past. He looked younger and brighter, a weight lifted when he told his stories. He darkened when you asked where his friends were; where Lily and James were. (You got him to tell you the full story a year later. He was adamant that your father wasn’t a killer. You agreed. Sirius Black wasn't guilty. After all, your Moony wouldn’t speak so fondly of a murderer.)
When you turned eleven and your letter for Hogwarts finally came, you were sad to leave. You were given a magic wand from Dumbledore which you were very scared you were going to break. You got books and supplies, all from the headmaster. You even got a nice letter from the cat who would watch you sometimes while Remus was away. This confused you. Apparently she taught there. (How a cat could teach a class at a school, you had no idea) This made Remus chuckle. "Good old Minnie." He murmured. You had no clue who Minnie was.
You packed up your bags and trunk. (which took a lot longer than it had in the past) and you went with Remus to the famed platform where a train would take you away to Hogwarts. You were scared. You didn’t want to be sent away again. Remus was reassuring, holding your hand the whole time. Even as you heard the train approaching the station. You noticed the looks people gave the two of you.
People who knew the tragedy of The Marauders, people who thought they knew the loss. Remus shrugged it off. “Just people I haven’t seen in a while, kid. Don’t think too much about it.” 
  He gave you explicit instructions. He showed you a newspaper and pointed to the boy on the cover. He was scrawny and he wore wire framed glasses. He had stringy brown hair. Harry was his name and Remus told you to find him quickly and become his friend. He was James and Lily's son.
He said you’d do each other some good; being tied together by the fraying strings of a friendship so close, it may have been a family. Harry was alone and you understood being alone. 
The train whistled, signalling the need for students to board. You looked at Remus and you started to cry. He pulled you into a hug. You didn’t realize he was crying too until you felt the wetness of his tears against your shoulder. He sniffed as he held you tightly. He loved you. He was just as much your father as Sirius was.
As he held you, he thanked whatever was up in the universe for sending you to him. He was on the brink of giving up when Dumbledore urged him to come save you from the terrible institution. Your childlike chaos filled the halls of his home that were once stuffy with grief. He once prayed and wished that he could look into Sirius’s eyes again - to hear his laugh. You gave him that. 
“Okay, kid” He pulled back from you and put his hands on either side of your head, kissing your hair with his eyes shut. You cried, looking up at him. He clutched onto Sirius’s leather jacket, Pulling it over your robes. It was still big on you but it wasn’t blanket sized anymore. Merlin, he really didn’t want you to leave. 
“Will I ever see you again, Moony?” You sobbed, looking up at him. You were desperate not to leave. 
His heart cracked. You thought he was sending you away for good. He said your name with a sniff, hugging you as another tear slipped “Oh, my dear of course you will. You’ll be home for Christmas, I promise.” He looked at you with an intensity, memorizing your little face before he had to say goodbye. With one last tight hug and a kiss on the head, he sent you off and watched as you scuttled into the train. 
Once on board, you were met with so much energy. Older and younger kids in a bustle of movement. You had never seen so many children so happy. Sure, you met kids at your past institutions but they were never lively. All of them were as beaten down as you used to be. But these kids, all dressed in robes like your own were joyful. You walked nervously down the line of compartments, Remus’s words looping through your mind. Harry Potter, just find Harry. He’ll be your friend. It’s in your blood. 
You passed some menacing kids in dark robes with green. They were calling other kids on the train names that you didn’t understand but you decided that you wanted to stay under their radar. You saw a couple of teenagers bullying a younger boy holding a toad. You decided then that you didn’t like those people wearing green. They all seemed dreadful.
After you passed all the horrible green-robed students, you were frantic to find an empty compartment. All of these kids already had friends. Your only friend was Moony, you didn’t know the first thing about meeting other people. Eventually you found an empty compartment and you sat down alone. You held on tightly to the leather jacket over your robes, knuckles white as you watched the landscape pass.
You were used to the silence, the hum of the car relaxing. But you didn’t get much time to revel in your lonesome because the compartment opened and a small boy stepped in shyly. The one kid on the train that you knew. 
He was thin with unbrushed hair. He looked like the man in some of Sirius's polaroids, you thought. Except his eyes. They were a stunning green.
“Is it okay if I sit with you?” He asked, pushing up his glasses, the nosepiece held together with tape. You nodded. “I’m Harry. Harry Potter.” He held out his hand for you to shake, which you took, greeting him as he sat down. He was just as nervous as you. But he seemed happy, excited.
You were just dreading being away from the only home you’ve known.
“It’s nice to meet you,” You said after you introduced yourself. “I was told to try to find you.” Harry was worried. He thought you’d barrage him with questions about the Dark Lord or ask him confusing questions that he didn’t understand. But instead you smiled nervously. “Our dads were best mates when they were in school.” 
Harry smiled. 
Tumblr media
AAAH, if you read this far thank you. i really think this could be a cool series and i like how i'm planning to write the characters.
please tell me if you like this and if I should write the next chapter that's been brewing in my mind cauldron.
peace and love <33
(likes are appreciated but i'll fall in love with you if you reblog)
482 notes · View notes
niabrooks2003 · 4 months ago
Text
It’s Time to Defend Taylor from Win or Lose (2025)
I don’t normally voice my disagreements with how people ingest media in a public manner. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. HOWEVER…too many people are coming after Taylor from Pixar’s Win or Lose (2025) and ion like that so…
With TV/film suppressing so much Black Girl representation, seeing Taylor, Kai, and Rochelle as a part of the main cast was exciting! This rant will be about how viewers have reacted to just Taylor though, concerning episodes 5 and 6.
Get cozy because there’s a lot to unpack here. Here’s your SPOILER ALERT!
Tumblr media
I thought Taylor and Yuwen made a very cute couple. I love how they depicted what it’s like falling in love during your awkward years. Yuwen was very sweet with Taylor and it was clear Taylor brought out the best in Yuwen (as confirmed by Kai).
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Of course, their relationship comes to a rocky patch when Yuwen becomes jealous and insecure when he sees Taylor and Tom interacting. For these interactions, keep in mind that they are portrayed from Yuwen’s perspective. Taylor eventually calls things off when Yuwen purposely catches Taylor off-guard to pitch the ball, which causes Taylor to miss and the other team to make a run.
On social media I have seen the cutest edits to this imaginary couple. I’ve also seen some sad ones. In almost every sad one, Taylor is casted as the villain. The comments are even worse! Many place the fault on Taylor for hurting Yuwen, or worse, cast her off as “the worst girlfriend AND big sister”. They have massacred my poor Shayla despite her getting just as hurt, if not more.
Let’s break it down:
1. In episode 6, we are introduced to the “real” Yuwen. The Yuwen we see is outwardly very cocky, self-assured and sometimes aloof. Yuwen deals with social anxiety and insecurity by hiding behind a “Class clown” persona. He relies on humor and positive attention to thrive among his peers. We also see his inner child, who is very sweet and portrays Yuwen’s real feelings.
2. Episode 5 and 6 give a more detailed look into Taylor. She is a great softball player and gets along well with her teammates. It’s shown that Tom and Taylor are good friends. Pre-relationship, Taylor and Yuwen can be seen sharing easy banter with each other. I think it’s important to note that Taylor never instigates such banter and only participates at Yuwen’s insistance. Taylor is also held responsible for her younger brother, Ira, during the games (More on this later).
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
3. Taylor is well aware of this from the jump. On their first date to the movies, she explicitly assures Yuwen to just be himself. And he does — as best as he can, anyhow.
Tumblr media
Yuwen eventually opens up to Taylor and reveals his “inner child”. A very touched Taylor reveals her “inner child” in return. In doing so, they both share a personal secret: Yuwen shares he is very insecure, while Taylor shares that she gets nauseous when nervous.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Claim #1: It’s Taylor’s fault for hurting Yuwen, he’s obviously insecure and she knows this!
Aht aht! Wait a min… let’s refute this ridiculous opinion (because it’s important to realize that these comments are JUST OPINIONS)
Obviously they are just kids, but let’s give a little bit of credit here. Kids can go through amazing growth in interpersonality and emotional intelligence. Yuwen is shown to struggle with letting his guard down, but he made an active decision to do so with Taylor. Taylor recognizes this and returns the favor. It’s a hugesign of mutual trust. To keep that trust, you’ve got to work at it. 
Tumblr media
The first incident that lead to their breakup occurs at school. Tom hands Taylor her dropped cell phone and the two engage in a conversation. While Yuwen is shown to be initially irritated, it quickly turns to crushing insecurity and leads to Taylor pushing him away after he butts into the conversation with an ill-timed joke. If you pay close attention to Taylor’s expression, tone, and what is being said to Tom, it is clear she is concerned for Tom. During the conversation it is revealed that something might be wrong with Tom’s brother and it is somehow related to Tom’s academic troubles (which eventually leads into Rochelle’s storyline). 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Now, Taylor doesn’t yell at Yuwen, she doesn’t scream or accuse him of being a jerk. All she asks for is that Yuwen can be serious at times. Which is fair. It’s clear that Tom’s brother is a sensitive topic, and even though Yuwen isn’t aware of the situation, he unfortunately chose to give into his insecurities and push the clown narrative, despite Taylor’s initial warning (the push away).
After a dramatic, emotional montage of inner child Yuwen and inner child Taylor fighting and crying, it jumps to the night of the championships. From Yuwen’s perspective, Taylor angrily brushes past him on the way to the field, leaving Yuwen hurt.
Tumblr media
However, in the episode prior, Ira’s perspective shows that Taylor in fact reaches out to Yuwen in an attempt to understand why Yuwen is being aloof and clearly upset. Yuwen, retreating to his humor shield, mockingly repeats Taylor’s request to “use your words”. Taylor tells him he is being rude, and he shoots back that Taylor is being rude, still upset over her reaction at his jokes towards Tom at school. Yuwen is then shown to be the one walking away from Taylor as she confronts her brother. Yuwen is shutting Taylor out.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
But before yall come and say it’s because Taylor hurt his feelings, remember that Taylor was just as hurt after their argument. She is literally crying in the car on the way to the game. Leave my poor girl alone, she has feelings too!
Tumblr media
Now to the actual game.
Earlier in the episode, Taylor enlists Yuwen’s help in practicing her catches, as she’d like to be catcher one day. Yuwen initially doesn’t take Taylor seriously (out of concern of course), but when Taylor get’s upset and expresses frustration, he finally gets with the program.
Tumblr media
While in the pit, the team notice the animosity between the couple and Tom decides to spill the tea Taylor told him and announce that Yuwen’s acting the way he is because he is insecure. Okay a few things to unpack here. First, Taylor is sitting with her headphones on, so she doesn’t know Tom has announced this. Second, remember Taylor and Tom are close (platonically), I assume this was a private conversation (perhaps as a way to apologize to Tom on Yuwen’s behalf) that went down after Taylor and Yuwen’s argument. 
Yuwen takes the slight very hard and retaliates by sharing to the whole team that Taylor wants to take Rochelle’s place as catcher, but he voices doubt that Taylor is no where near as good as Rochelle for it to be feasible. Taylor hears (since Yuwen is speaking with an increased volume) and takes off her headphones to fix him a glare (but doesn’t say anything). But before, she is sitting there looking heartbroken.
Tumblr media
So, when the coach asks for a temporary fill-in for Rochelle (she is absent atm), Taylor volunteers. The coach decides he wants to be stupid and asks if Taylor thinks she’s a better catcher than Rochelle (despite NOBODY wanting to volunteer for the catcher positon except Taylor). He dismisses the dumb comment at Taylor’s pointed expression. This hits hard since now that is TWO people instilling or voicing disbelief in Taylor’s catching capabilities, despite the hard work and success that’s being put in! 
Yuwen’s not done though. In another insecure attack, he picks fun at Taylor and discretely reveals her secret by “encouraging” her not to puke if she gets nervous in front of the whole team. It backfires though and the whole team regard Yuwen coldly. Taylor, always forced into being the bigger person, just tells Yuwen “I’ll see you on the field”. On the field, Yuwen refuses to listen to Taylor’s pitch signs, which leads to the eventual missed catch. 
Tumblr media
Taylor is through. Rightfully so. She’s visibly upset and frustrated towards Yuwen’s behavior towards her because Yuwen is refusing to communicate and show nothing but animosity (plus, he’s broken her trust by intentionally sharing her secret to the whole team) So, she ends things, and walks off the field.
Tumblr media
Claim #2: Taylor is the worst because she treats Ira horribly!
Honestly, it’s giving yall just want an excuse to hate on Black girls. I feel like I didn’t see this opinion until after episode six, soooooooo, the math ain’t mathin if yall are just really defensive of Ira.
Episode 5 is told from Ira’s perspective. Ira is Taylor’s imaginative little brother who accompanies Taylor at softball meets (probably due to her parents just dropping him off with Taylor). Taylor is left to look after him while playing the game. Despite her slight annoyance (which I think is justified), she still cares deeply about her brother (i.e. replying to Ira’s complaints and announcements during the game). 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
In a move reminiscent to Nico and Bianca Di Angelo (but, you know, without the total abandonment and death), Taylor starts hanging out with Yuwen, which doesn’t bode well with Ira. In Ira’s eyes, Taylor is the only one who gets him. So he decided to roll with the “Bleacher Creatures” after they show interest in him. 
Tumblr media
Taylor voices her concern with that fact and pulls their mom into it when Ira shows disinterest in her warnings. Taylor is justifiably worried about her brother hanging around the kids that obviously cause some trouble. She even tells Yuwen about it, and he agrees to talk to Ira. The timing is a bit unclear, but I assume that the movie date had happened just before that (with Ira spilling about Taylor’s boyfriend happening before that — whew, work with me here!). So the next morning on the school bus, Yuwen’s attempt to fist bump Ira (Ira chooses to lick Yuwen’s fist instead ) was also Yuwen’s attempt at bonding with Ira at Taylor’s request.
Tumblr media
But before yall come with the: “but she yelled at Ira before the game!” 
She is upset with Yuwen and Ira chose to interrupt… what did yall think was gonna happen?
Taylor is frustrated. She has been put in the position of having to read between the lines and make decisions for people and she’s tired.
Ira was able to come to terms that what he did with the Bleacher Creatures was wrong by himself. When you have an older sis calling all the shots, it can be difficult to decide on your own. It’s a moment of growth for Ira.
Tumblr media
I’m not dismissing that Ira’s feelings got hurt about his sister distancing from him, but Taylor is her own person as well. 
In conclusion, Taylor’s actions are justified and she is also a victim in this scenario, not just Yuwen. Insecurity should not be an excuse to hurt your partner. I hope Yuwen talks to Taylor and they make up, but yall better recognize that Yuwen hurt Taylor too. 
And that Taylor deserves just as much love.
Tumblr media
790 notes · View notes
nottswitch · 3 days ago
Text
꒰— 𝐀𝐙𝐙𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎 ꒱ ♯ part I
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
꒰ summary ꒱ your first day in italy, theo’s first time back in his family villa in years. a bit of unpacking, trips down the memory lane, and a passion-filled night.
꒰ content/tw ꒱ 18+ mdni, unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, praise, fluff, one mention of smoking, cursing
꒰ word count ꒱ 2.8k
꒰ note ꒱ the first part of this cutesy, spicy summer flick. no real plot, just vibes. it felt very comforting to write this, so i hope you enjoy this too <3 no taglist!
Tumblr media
“You sure it’s ’fun and exciting’?” you muttered, glancing at Theo from the corner of your eye. You were just slightly out of breath, the uphill walk taking more of your physical strength than you cared to admit. The sun was beaming down at you, bright and unbearably hot despite the fact that it was already well into the late afternoon.
“You mean to tell me that getting here on foot wasn’t my brightest idea?”
Theo let out an amused chuckle, casting a glance at you in return. His eyes softened when he saw beads of sweat running down your temples, your chest heaving quicker than usual, and the strain in your face, evident in the lines creasing your brow – he knew you were trying hard to appear strong and not let him see just how tired you were, and he also knew exactly what to do about it.
A sigh, and he was unceremoniously picking you up bridal style, one arm securely under your knees, the other one wrapping around your back. You squealed, being manhandled into his embrace knocking the air out of your lungs for a moment; your hands fell on his shoulders, steadying yourself, even though you knew Theo would never let you fall. He’d rather die, to be honest.
Without any real protest from you, he resumed his pace, carrying you almost effortlessly; you realised at that moment just how much good Quidditch had done for him over the years. And Theo seemed to have caught that thought in the way your eyes flickered hungrily over his biceps, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk.
“Come on, tesoro. We’re almost there.”
The rest of the walk was much faster, without your exhausted self holding your little group of two back. Soon, the outline of the building appeared in your line of sight – whitewashed walls a striking contrast against the deepening blue of the Italian sky.
As Theo approached the villa with you in the safety of his hold, more and more details came into view – colourful stained glass windows, tall and intricate, arched at the top; marbled columns supporting the overhang above the front porch; a curved terracotta roof adding that Mediterranean charm to the already beautiful building. One look at Theo’s face, at the tender smile spreading on his lips, at the way his eyes sparkled as he took in the sight of the villa completely melted your heart.
“Welcome home,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with emotion, as he came to a halt a few steps before the front door. The lawn surrounding the porch was a bit overgrown, vines started to sprout up the walls, yet the greenery only added to the warm, almost magical atmosphere of the place.
“Home…” you echoed after him, eyeing the house in front of you with a mixture of excitement and curiosity. It wasn’t your home just yet, but it was Theo’s, and the knowledge filled your chest with an unexplainable sense of belonging. He was letting you into the part of his world you haven’t yet had the privilege of seeing. He was allowing you to be a part of the life he had longed for ever since it was taken away from his childhood self in his father’s cruel, unapologetic ways. And you were grateful – grateful for this chance Theo took for both of you to experience it; all over again for him, and for the first time – for you.
Tumblr media
“You were adorable!” you exclaimed, pointing at the picture at the top of the album page. There, a tiny little Theo, no more than two years old, was waving at the camera and joyfully grinning, a fluffy dragon toy clutched in his small fist.
Theo rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed at your enthusiasm about the child who was undeniably him, but you could clearly see the blush dusting his cheeks. You giggled and poked at his heated cheek, earning yourself a glare – a fond one, anyway, since Theo felt embarrassingly soft at the moment.
“Ti prego, amore, shut up before I have to make you,” he grumbled, snatching the album from your hands and placing it on his lap instead.
You were just in the middle of unpacking your suitcases and putting your clothes into the spacious walk-in closet of the master bedroom when you stumbled upon a real treasure – an album filled with Theo’s childhood pictures. So now, you were sat on the floor, flipping through and enjoying the sight of your boyfriend getting progressively more and more flustered with each new photo coming to light. He was a little less pleased about the discovery than you, yet couldn’t hide the gentle way his eyes started shining as you began skimming through the slightly yellowed pages.
“Am I wrong, though?” You tilted your head to the side, eagerly shifting your gaze to the next picture: Theo, a bit older – around four, running across the beach, his curls wild and mussed by the light summer breeze. “You’re a little cutie patootie, babe. You can’t deny that.”
Theo groaned at the nickname, shaking his head as he looked at his younger self. His heart clenched in his chest – not in a painful way, as it often did when he remembered his childhood. No, it was strangely pleasant; the kid in the picture was still innocent, full of life and boyish joy, unmarred by the harsh reality of the world he was soon to be faced with. Sometimes, Theo longed for that feeling, wished he could experience it at least once more – the lack of burden on his shoulders, his spirit wild and free, his laughter carrying through the halls of the villa he spent so many yet so little summers in.
But then he looked at you. Your wide smile, your delighted chatter as you pointed out something else on the album page, the way you teased him, gently and easily, as if it was second nature for you. And a thought came to his mind, one that made a flicker of hope light up somewhere deep in his heart. Maybe it could still happen. Maybe the life he thought was long lost in his memories could still become a reality – different, new, unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, but filled with love nonetheless.
“Hey, look.”
Your voice brought him out of his thoughts and down to earth again. Theo followed the direction you were looking in, and his heart momentarily stuttered in his chest. Another picture, where baby him was looking at the camera, but this time, he wasn’t alone in it. A woman with a striking resemblance to Theo was sitting next to him, her eyes fixed on the small child, soft and protective at the same time. Her arm was holding little Theo to her side, and he could almost feel the phantom warmth of her embrace.
“This is her, right?”
He nodded, a small, aching gulp making its way down his throat. “Mamma…” he mumbled under his breath, trembling fingers skimming over the figure of the woman in the picture.
You didn’t say anything else. You simply leaned your head on Theo’s shoulder, letting him have this moment and providing the sense of comfort he needed to process the overwhelming emotions you knew swirled inside of him. He stayed silent too, wide ocean eyes fixed on the photo of the only family he cherished with a melancholic kind of longing. His arm wrapped around your waist in a loose grip, as if he tried to anchor himself in the midst of his tumultuous thoughts, but didn’t quite know if he deserved it.
The half-unpacked suitcases were forgotten on the floor for a little while. Both of you agreed that they could wait until tomorrow.
Tumblr media
That night, you found yourself on the terrace, observing the vast darkness of the waters spanning across the entire horizon. The cliffside location of the villa allowed for a truly breathtaking view of the hills surrounding the area, the sea glittering underneath the silvery moonlight, foamy waves gently lapping at the rocky shore below. The air was fresher now, but only so much – the heat of the day still lingered, causing your skin to break into sweat every now and then.
“Not tired yet?”
Theo’s voice was quiet, yet it still managed to startle you a bit. His footsteps were as soft as a cat’s as he approached you from behind, the faint scent of smoke and citrus enveloping you in a familiar blanket – not suffocating, just very prominent and very… him.
“Not really, no,” you answered, turning your head a bit to take a look at your boyfriend. You had quite the trouble to decide if the scenery you’d been eyeing before was prettier – Theo could certainly put up a fight in his linen shirt, loose around his body and unbuttoned halfway, showing off a deliciously tantalizing view of his bare chest underneath.
He noticed it. Of course, he did, he’d always been awfully attentive – in a good way – to every single shift and twitch of your expression. His eyebrow went up, in that barely noticeable way that left you wondering if he was there to tease or to channel your hidden desires he was so often aware of into reality.
A breath left your parted lips when he took a step closer, then another one, until the entire length of his body was pressed to your back. You had a fleeting thought that the heat of him was too much for the summer night, but it vanished as quickly as it came when his lips landed on your neck, a wet trail of kisses going up to your ear.
“I think I’m gonna tire you out, tesoro,” he murmured, voice deep and low as his tongue darted out to lick just behind your earlobe.
“Ew, Teddy,” you pretended to scold him, even as your breath hitched in your throat at the feeling of his tongue lavishing your skin. “I’m sweaty as fuck, and you look ready to eat me.”
“I like a little sweat.” Theo’s small, playful smirk was obvious against your neck for a second, disappearing when his hands landed on your hips, bunching up the hem of your flowing sundress. He exhaled, breath hot and trembling in your ear. “Salty. Tangy. Makes you taste like the sea goddess.”
His hips rolled against yours, slowly, like he was savouring every inch where your bodies touched each other through the fabric of your clothes. And yet, you could feel the strain in his muscles, the hard bulge of his cock pulsing against your ass, and you knew he was barely holding himself back from taking you on the spot.
“You’re being awfully poetic, babe,” you teased despite the tension steadily coiling low in your stomach. Theo chuckled; it was hoarse, and not the just-smoked-a-cig kind of hoarse – no, it was pure desire that tried hard to stay contained within the bounds of his body.
“Love does that to a man.” His hands moved lower down your hips, until his long fingers curled around the very edge of the skirt of your dress – and then, without any warning, he lifted it up, letting it hang around your waist. You gasped softly, but didn’t flinch or even try to get away – you wanted this just as much as him.
“I want you,” he breathed out, his voice lowering until it sounded like a mere rumble vibrating against your ear. One of his hands had already sneaked to the front of your body, fingers teasing at the soaked panties between your legs. A moan escaped your lips, wet and shiny from your own tongue licking at the soft flesh; Theo rolled his hips again, his cock twitching when he heard those sweet sounds of yours he was utterly obsessed with.
“You want this?” he groaned as his fingers continued their torturous teasing through the drenched cotton of your underwear. “Tell me you do, amore. Please. I need you badly. Please.”
Theodore Nott rarely begged, but when he did, you felt ready to give him just about anything he asked for. Your legs were already close to giving out underneath you, and he had barely started, making your hands clutch at the railing of the terrace. You nodded, desperately trying to grind your hips against his hand, but he didn’t let you – his other hand stilled them, and you knew exactly why, exactly what he wanted from you.
“Words, baby. Please, I need to hear you say it.” A breath, sucked into his mouth with a strained hiss, was a clear sign that he was struggling to hold back. His cock was throbbing relentlessly against you, and you couldn’t, physically and emotionally couldn’t wait any longer.
“I want this. I want you, Theo,” you whispered, and it was the last straw that broke as soon as his name left your gorgeous lips. With a low, quiet yet no less powerful moan, he pulled his linen pants down, freeing himself to the warm summer air. His fist closed around his cock, flushed and already leaking at the tip, as he gave it a couple of preparatory pumps. Using his free hand, he pulled your panties to the side, cursing under his breath at the sight of your pussy, glistening in the moonlight like a dessert, freshly made only for him to enjoy.
“You’re so beautiful, cazzo,” he murmured as he aligned the tip of his cock with your eager entrance, sliding it up and down between your folds to coat it with your slick. “You were made for me, amore. La mia dea perfetta.”
With that, Theo slowly pushed into you, his cock stretching you out inch by inch. The feeling of him inside you, so familiar despite the chaos that was your life before this day, made you moan and shiver from head to toe. You spread your legs a bit more, making space for him to sheathe completely. Once he did, a growl tore from his throat, the pleasure of simply staying between your soft walls almost too good to keep still. He let you adjust to his size, but only for a moment before his hips started moving, setting a slow, deep, steady pace.
You leaned on the railing to steady yourself as Theo thrusted into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over again. The gentle slaps of skin against skin, the wet sounds of your bodies connecting with each other in the most intimate way, your soft moans mixed with his low, desperate groans filled the terrace and the air around it – the sounds of passion the villa had never heard before yet welcomed all the same. The waves below crashed against the shore louder, as if the entire world was living and breathing in sync with your love.
Theo’s lips were back on your neck as his movements grew sloppier, a sure sign of his approaching release. Your fingers tangled in his curls, pressing his face closer as you felt jolts of pleasure striking your belly again and again.
“You’re taking me so well, amore,” Theo grunted against your skin, his teeth sinking in into what would soon become a bite mark. “Such a good girl for me…”
The praise brought your own orgasm closer, your hand tightening in his hair, which in turn made his back break out in goosebumps. He was barely holding back, determined to get you there first, and it was evident in the firm, almost bruising hold he had on your hips.
“You want me to cum inside, baby? Want me to fill this pretty pussy?”
And there was only one answer you could give him – a quiet, desperate “yes” that almost got lost between your needy whimpers as the tension inside of you snapped. You came all over his cock, spilling everywhere as his length pushed your own juices in and out, making them splutter across your inner thighs and Theo’s crotch.
It was more than enough to make him finish as well. With a growl, he stilled, and you felt the tip of his cock grinding against your walls as he released into you. For a few moments, both of you stayed motionless, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow of passion. The air around you seemed to turn hotter, stuffier despite being outside, but right then and there, you didn’t really mind the heat.
“Let’s get inside, baby,” Theo murmured after another minute ticked by. You nodded absentmindedly, a small smile appearing on your bitten lips. You were happy, genuinely, shamelessly – and you could clearly tell, to your utmost delight, that Theo was too. And your time here was only just beginning.
Tumblr media
nav. more. series masterlist. part II.
330 notes · View notes
wheeboo · 6 months ago
Text
candy | yoon jeonghan
Tumblr media
SYNOPSIS. After moving back into the city to be closer with friends and family, you start receiving letters from an unknown sender in your mail. When curiosity gets the better of you, you decide to respond, and what begins as a simple sweet-tasting exchange soon blossoms into something more with someone you’ve never met—or so you think. But as the snow continues to fall, you find yourself confronting the bitter-tasting feelings you thought were long buried back in your youth, as well as the person who’s been hiding in plain sight all along. Loosely inspired from vocal unit’s, Candy. PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, penpal au, angst, exes to lovers, second chance romance WARNINGS. swearing, alcohol and food consumption, jeonghan and reader broke up on bad terms, low mental health mentions, constant push-pull dynamic between them that it's infuriating, brief one bed trope, terms of endearment, kissing WORD COUNT. 20.8k
notes: this is my fic for the @camandemstudios "winter with you" collab! thank you to @bananabubble @slytherinshua @etherealyoungk for either reading over this or dealing with me crashing out HAHA. tho i'm kind of unsatisfied and not entirely proud of how this fic turned out in the end, i hope you enjoy nonetheless. please make sure to check out the other fics in the collab as well! spread some love to all talented authors who worked so hard on their work <3
Tumblr media
Hi. I hope this message gets to you well, and if this is random, or maybe even scary, well… I truly apologise, oops. I drank a little too much tonight, and was obnoxiously dared to send a holiday postcard to a random apartment in the building. Do people even still do that nowadays? Anyway, the holidays are coming up! Continue to stay warm, whoever you are.  - 017
You stare at the letter for a minute or two, eyeing over the sloppy cursive penmanship. The ink of the letters are smudged and the uneven strokes hint at either too much wine or the kind of nervousness that makes hands unsteady. Or maybe both.
When you flip the letter over, it was pretty plain in of itself, other than the festive design of snowflakes scattered over the front. But you didn’t catch sight of any name behind the letter, just what you can only assume to be their door number, and an awful doodle of what you could decipher to be a snowman with a ridiculously long nose. 
Based on the numbering they signed off with, they’d be on the bottom floor, probably somewhere in the west wing, the complete opposite part of where you’re staying. You’ve barely had time to familiarise yourself with the neighbours since moving in just about a week ago𑁋too many boxes to unpack and too little energy to make small talk𑁋but now you find yourself wondering who might live there.
Setting the letter down on your kitchen counter, you brush off some stray snowflakes that landed on your coat, shredding it off and tossing it off in another direction, quietly mulling over the handwritten words shining under the singular light above. 
Your first instinct is to simply brush it off as some holiday prank or a fleeting moment of courage from the alcohol on their part. But there’s a small part of you𑁋a part that’s always leaned into curiosity more than you’d care to admit𑁋that lingers on the way they ended it. Continue to stay warm, whoever you are. There’s something… a bit nice about the way they wrote it, as if they truly meant it, and for some reason it’s enough to quirk up a small smile to your face. 
You could respond, but then again, would that be strange? After all, you don’t even know this person. They could be anyone𑁋someone too bored or drunk to care about the implications of sending a random note. But then again, what would you even say? Thank you for your drunken holiday cheer? Do you be polite or try to be comical? The thought makes you laugh quietly to yourself.
You’ve always been a little too curious for your own good, and something about the letter feels harmless𑁋charming, even. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to keep it going. It isn’t like you had much to do tonight anyway other than wading in the thought of how empty your apartment feels right now. 
Instead of discarding it, you choose to pin the letter on your refrigerator behind a cat magnet, before rushing to your room to shuffle through a drawer of office supplies. With a click of the pen, you press the tip to the smooth surface of this beige-coloured paper that was staring right back at you, and you immediately pause, because what the hell were you even going to say?
Still, the curious part of you doesn’t let go.
Hi, 017. I wasn’t expecting to receive a holiday postcard in my mail, let alone from a stranger, but here we are. First of all, love the snowman. Could rival Pinnochio or something, right? Sorry that was pretty lame to say  write. Hopefully the hangover won’t be too bad. If it helps, drink a metric ton of water (not literally though, please), and make some nice, hot ramen. To answer your question, I have no idea if people still send postcards, but it’s nice that you did. It made me smile, to be honest.  Anyway, I guess I’ll leave it at that. No need to drag this out. Stay warm on your end too, whoever you are. - 526
There’s no going back now, it seems.
Tumblr media
A small snowball strikes your cold cheek.
“The hell, man?” You quip, lightly elbowing Soonyoung as he stumbles dramatically away.
“Come on, can’t a guy miss their best friend? You were gone for a whole ass three years and the only thing missing is the dramatic reunion we deserve,” Soonyoung pouts exaggeratingly, brushing snow off his gloves as he trails beside you on the sidewalk. “That was tame compared to the fireworks I have planned, you know. Oh, and the ski resort we’re going to for New Years. Mingyu and Seokmin have it all booked already.”
“Fireworks? A ski resort?” You crack a laugh at that. “Fireworks are getting more expensive than convenience store ramen, dude.”
“It’s a start!” Soonyoung counters, grinning widely that you swear never gets old. “You left us with nothing but a goodbye text, and now you’re back as if you didn’t ghost the group chat for ages. If I didn’t love you so much, I’d throw a bigger snowball next time.”
His words carry a teasing edge, but there’s something warm that hides underneath them, something comforting about having this kind of familiarity again after being gone for so long because of school and other opportunities. You’ve missed this𑁋missed them, missed everyone you’ve pretty much left behind in all the time you were gone.
“You guys really went all out for me, huh?”
“Yepper-doo.”
You cringe at that. “Please don’t say that ever again.” But Soonyoung just laughs.
As the two of you trail through the busy city, you realise that hardly anything has changed ever since you left. There’s familiar sightings of places you’ve shopped at and eaten back then, like the cinema down the street where you used to go on a marathon to watch all the Studio Ghibli films that would only play a few times a year. Or that arcade place where the pizza was always just a little too greasy and left you with an angry stomach ache at times. 
“I’m sorry, I know I suck at keeping in touch,” You admit in a shameful manner, adjusting your scarf with a bit of apprehension. “But I’m here now, okay? Trying to fix things and whatnot.”
Soonyoung’s grin melts into something more genuine, and he playfully pats your snow-covered shoulder. “We know, dummy. And I’m glad you’re here. Just don’t think you can disappear on us like that again. I’ve got a whole arsenal of snowballs, and I’ll make Mingyu go full mom mode if he has to.” 
His words wrap like a blanket around you, the guilt you’ve been carrying on your shoulders easing just a little. You’ve been worried about how your absence might have created a gap too wide to bridge across. But here’s Soonyoung, your best friend for the last decade, in all his chaotic, sunshine-like glory, meeting you halfway as if nothing’s changed.
You missed your life here… for the most part. 
“Thanks,” You mutter, offering him a small, grateful smile.
“Don’t sweat it.” He wraps an arm around you. “Come on, the ol’ café is right around the corner.”
It’s almost as if your feet remember the exact path to the café he was talking about. It’s a place that has quite literally watched over your lives𑁋over the way you’ve all grown from pubescent, snobby teenagers to young adults struggling to navigate through adulthood. The café still stands in the exact spot as you remember, nestled between the local laundromat and a smoke shop that had been rebranded one too many times. Just seeing it again tugs at a memory, a bittersweet warmth spreading through your chest.
The scent of coffee beans and fresh pastries float through the air as you step inside right after Soonyoung. It's been years since you last walked in here, yet everything feels oddly familiar, nostalgic even. You see the chipped ceramic rugs lining some the shelves, the mismatched chairs and old wooden tables, the cozy corner booths where you and your friends spent countless hours talking about everything and nothing at all𑁋it’s all still here, like it’s stuck in time.
Soonyoung drags you right to the front by the sleeve of your coat, before forcing you to stand in place.
“Okay, order for me. I gotta piss!” he whisper-yells to you. 
You blink. “Wait, what do you want𑁋”
But Soonyoung bolts away to the restroom before you could even ask what he wants, and you roll your eyes as you face back forward, letting your shoulders fall relaxingly. You tap your feet rhythmically on the floor below, scrolling aimlessly through your phone as you wait for your turn, your best friend seemingly taking an ungodly amount of time in the bathroom. 
Soonyoung still isn’t back by the time it’s your time to order, and when you glance up from your phone, you nearly drop it to the floor. 
He still looks the same. It’s not the kind of revelation that should have left you breathless and your heart hammering a bolt in your chest, but it does. He doesn’t look much different, besides the longer hair where the tips barely graze his shoulders had been dyed to a light blonde that complemented his warm, sleepy brown eyes. But it’s the way his presence fills the room, the way the familiarity of his smile still carries that same, natural calmness from before𑁋it’s as if nothing had changed. As if you hadn’t been gone for years. As if everything that happened between the two of you had never even happened.
He seems to suck in a breath of his own, too.
“Hello,” Jeonghan simply greets, and his voice makes you shift your weight uncomfortably between your two feet.
“Two hot chocolates, please,” You say all too quickly, already fishing your card out of your wallet and tapping it against the counter impatiently, nervously. 
Jeonghan seems to notice your slight discomfort as he punches in your order, taking his precious time doing so, and it only wants to make you melt into the ground below just so you wouldn’t feel his eyes on you. Then he gives you that imperceptible, almost teasing smile, the one that used to make your insides twist when you were younger. It used to be one of comfort, but now it only brings a bitter taste to your mouth. 
He opens his mouth to speak, “It’s been𑁋”
“The order is for Y/N. Thank you,” You respond almost irritatingly, already turning away on your heel and heading to the pick-up counter before he can finish his sentence. The last thing you want right now is to be stuck in a conversation that you’ve avoided for years. The bitterness in your mouth grows, but you try to push it down, focusing on the sensation of your fingers gripping your phone tightly.
You feel your thoughts bouncing painfully off the walls in your head𑁋what are the odds? What are the odds that the one café you’ve practically grown up in houses the one person you’ve tried to bury in your past? 
“Did you order?!” Soonyoung’s voice pops back in as he’s shaking away his damp hands, a few drops of the water landing on your hot skin. “Sorry I took so long. There literally wasn’t any toilet paper left and I𑁋”
“When did he start working here?”
“What?” Soonyoung asks, blinking at you with a puzzled expression as he takes in your stiff posture. Then he follows to where you’re staring at𑁋at Jeonghan who was quietly preparing some drinks behind the counter𑁋and his jaw drops to the floor. “Oh. Well, I think he𑁋”
“Actually, just… Just forget about it,” You mutter, cutting Soonyoung off, eyes still watching Jeonghan’s movements, a certain casualness behind it that’s almost annoying. 
Soonyoung glances over at Jeonghan, who is now wiping his hands on a towel, his gaze lifting briefly in your direction. The briefest moment of eye contact makes your stomach churn. Soonyoung notices it too, but instead of pushing, he shrugs it off.
“I know you two never really got the chance to𑁋”
“No,” You interrupt Soonyoung again, facing him with a sharp look. “I’m not interested, okay?”
That bitterness falls on your tongue again, like a taste of candy that’s been left out too long𑁋sweet at first but quickly souring in your mouth.
Before Soonyoung can say anything else, your name is called from the counter. You turn away, eager to get the drinks and just leave the café before things can spiral into anything more. However, it’s him that’s handing you the drinks as you approach the counter, and for a second, the tips of his fingers brush against your hand. 
“Welcome home,” Jeonghan says quietly, his voice almost a whisper, and it hits you like a cold breeze. You shiver at that.
Tumblr media
Dear 526, Hello. I wasn’t even sure if I’d write again after that postcard, but here we are. I think I owe you an apology for my first letter. I wasn’t expecting a reply at all. I figured you’d just laugh it off and forget about it. But you didn’t, and that somehow feels comforting. It’s nice to know I made someone, let alone you, smile. Anyway, about the snowman, I’m glad you liked it! It wasn’t even supposed to be Pinnochio, but art is subjective, right? The nose might be a bit exaggerated, but it felt fitting at the time, I guess. I did end up having a pretty nasty hangover. The ramen really did help, by the way, and I drank a shit ton of water too. Maybe not a metric ton, but close enough. Thank you for the advice though. You’re a lifesaver.  I’ll end it here. No need to drag it out as you said, unless you’re fine with that. Hopefully your week has been going well. Life just got strange over here, to be honest. But anyway, continue to stay warm. - 017
Tumblr media
To 017, Your snowman absolutely looked like Pinocchio. Don’t even try to deny it. Also, your cursive handwriting is pretty neat. I’m glad you survived your hangover. I don’t even drink that much myself, so I took to Google for advice. Perhaps you should thank them instead. Life getting strange, you say? Cryptic, much? I’m curious now. But you don’t have to elaborate. If anything, it’s also getting strange here as well. I’ve just recently moved back into the city, and I am not sure how I feel about it. Funny how life works like that. Familiar places seem to have a way of digging up memories you’d rather leave buried, you know? I guess life really likes throwing curveballs. But enough about that. Thanks for writing back.  - 526 P.S. If life is strange on your end, write about it. I don’t mind long letters.
You don’t even hesitate in pinning 017’s letter on your refrigerator this time.
Tumblr media
You don’t know why you’re standing in front of the café again. 
It’s late, far later than you intended to be out. Bags of convenience store food are tightly gripped in your hands, snow crunching beneath your feet as you take another step towards the door of the cafe, before stepping back again. 
You feel ridiculous standing there, like the answer lies right behind the door, and all you had to do was push it open. The glow of the lights inside spills through the frosted glass, casting warm hues on the snowy pavement. The temptation to just walk away gnaws at you. 
What are you even hoping to accomplish here?
You sigh, your breath floating like wisps in the cold air, shaking your head dismissively. The bags in your hands crinkle as you shift your grip, trying to convince yourself that this is a bad idea. But then, as if on autopilot, your feet move forward, and as you are about to push through the door, it swings open by itself. 
Jeonghan steps out, his coat slung loosely over his shoulders, his blonde hair catching the soft light. He freezes when he sees you, the surprise in his eyes giving way to something else𑁋something unreadable. And you could only stand there, like a deer caught in headlights. For a moment, or minute, maybe even a whole damn hour, neither of you speak. 
He’s the first to break the silence.
“Did you want to come in?” he asks.
“I𑁋no,” You stammer, gripping the bags in your hands even tighter. “I was just passing by.”
Jeonghan simply stares at you for a beat or two, his lips forming a thin line.
“You were never really a good liar, you know.”
You wince at the words, even though they aren't said harshly. It’s the fact that he still knows you so well, despite everything that’s passed between the two of you. It makes the sting go even deeper into your heart. The years apart have changed you, shaped you in ways that should’ve made him a stranger. 
And yet, here he is, looking at you like nothing’s different. 
“Okay, I was… I was thinking of getting some coffee before𑁋”
“Since when did you become a coffee person?”
The slight quirk you catch on his lips makes your stomach twist into an uneasy knot. You hate how he seems to still know you like the lines on the back of your hand, hate how he can still read you so easily, even after all this time.
You hate how you can’t fully hate him, even if you’ve convinced yourself enough times that you’re supposed to. 
Jeonghan’s eyes flicker curiously over you once more, and there’s a slight shiver to your limbs that he catches sight of.
“Do you want to come inside? I could give you some coffee before I𑁋”
“No,” You cut him off sharply, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “I’m fine. I just... I don’t want anything from you.”
Jeonghan’s expression falters, the familiar trace of concern flickering behind his eyes. It makes you nearly want to give in, but you refuse to show that vulnerability, because you don’t want to feel that way again. You don’t want to be the person who needs him. You can’t let yourself fall back into his orbit, because does the sun really care if you burn yourself trying to get close to it again?
He doesn’t move, his eyes narrowing into something contemplative. His mouth opens, likely to say something, but then he just closes it again. His gaze still doesn’t leave you, studying the way you stand, as if trying to figure out what’s going on inside your head. 
He doesn’t move, his eyes narrowing and softening into something contemplative. His gaze still doesn’t leave you, studying the way you stand, as if trying to figure out what’s going on inside your head. He brushes a stray lock of hair behind his ear and steps back up a fraction, letting his shoulders deflate in what may be defeat.
“It’s really been a while, hasn’t it?” 
You swallow hard. You can’t deny that it’s been so long, but here he is, standing in front of you, almost the same, yet so different. Maybe it’s the more mature look in his eyes, but something about him feels less like the Jeonghan you once knew, and you can’t quite place your finger on why that makes you even more unsettled.
“Yeah. It has.”
Jeonghan shifts between his two feet and stuffs his hands inside the pockets of his coat. You remember how easily cold he would get back then, always wrapping himself in layers even when the air wasn’t particularly chilly or sneaking his hands into your pockets as an excuse to get close with you. 
A part of you wishes he’d just leave. You wish you could escape to avoid this conversation. But you’re stuck here, frozen under his gaze, as if time has both stretched and shrunk all at once. The very thing you feared was happening𑁋you’re back where it all began.
“You look great,” he says, the words coming out mellow than you expected.
Your heart skips, and you curse at it mentally for betraying you. “Jeonghan, you can’t just𑁋”
“Can’t just what?” he interrupts gently, almost teasingly, and it makes the words die in your throat. His expression holds none of the coldness it used to. No. This is different. 
You suck in a deep breath, shaking your head as if trying to clear the fog that’s settling over your mind. You want to tell him to stop looking at you like that, to stop making everything feel so complicated, to stop making your heart flutter yet hide itself away. But the words don’t come out right.
“I… I didn’t come here for you, you know,” You confess weakly, and you hate how easily your voice crumbles. 
Jeonghan doesn’t respond right away. His eyes flicker down to the bags in your hands, and then back to you, studying the way you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. There’s a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Yeah?” There’s a faint smirk to his features as he steps closer to you, but not enough to close the distance completely. “Then what are you doing here?”
The cold air nips achingly at the skin of your cheek, your lips pursing into a thin line to keep anything from spilling out. 
“I don’t know.”
You’re met with an arch of a brow, an incredulous look plaguing his features. You hate it. You want him to stop looking at you like he has the answer to your thoughts, like he knows more about what you’re going through than you do. But you’ve already dug yourself in a hole𑁋you just lied in front of him, and he knows.
Jeonghan takes another step closer, the distance between the two of you shrinking by a fraction, as if testing the waters. He’s so close now. Too close. You can feel the warmth radiating off his body, the same warmth that once made you feel safe. The same warmth that you ran from when everything fell apart between you.
And you take that chance to run away again.
“I should go,” You let out nimbly, clutching the bags in your hands, turning your back toward him, not before muttering out a quiet, “I’ll… see you around.”
Jeonghan watches as you walk away, and you feel his eyes shoot lasers through you as the distance between the two of you grows. 
When he brings his gaze down to the snow-covered pavement, he lightly chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as if he’s caught between a sigh and a laugh. It’s not mocking, though. There’s something softer in it, perhaps heavier, sadder. But of course, you don’t hear it. You’re too far away now.
You don’t dare look back. If you do, you know you’ll fall apart.
Tumblr media
Dear 526,  Hello. Sorry, it’s been a few days since I’ve opened my mail. Promise me you’ve been keeping warm, or else. Sending my thanks to Google as I write this, literally. Strange times continue, I’m afraid. Let’s just say someone walked back into my life unexpectedly, and now I’m trying to figure out if it’s a blessing or a curse. All the memories came back with them too. A blessing because I haven’t seen them in a long time; a curse because it was simply my fault for screwing up things with them in the first place. I don’t know. Does that make sense? Sorry, I’m rambling. You said you don’t mind long letters, though, so here’s me testing the waters. Anyway, how have you been settling in the city? I can imagine it must be quite daunting. Keep hanging in there, though.  - 017
Tumblr media
To 017,  Funny that you mention memories. They’ve been on my mind a lot too. As for your question, I think I understand. Do you ever wonder why we hold onto certain memories so tightly? Even the painful ones? It’s like a part of you is afraid to let them go because you feel like you’d lose pieces of yourself along with them. It’s complicated. Maybe that’s a little too philosophical for this letter. I guess I’ve been in my head too much.  Perhaps the past isn’t as easy to leave behind as we think. Other than that, I hope this person doesn’t cause you too much heartache. I’ll fight them if you need me to. I think I’ve been making peace with the city. Some days are good. Some days are bad. But maybe this is where I’ve always belonged. - 526
Tumblr media
Mingyu and Soonyoung are staring at you, the two of them bent down at your level of where you sat at Mingyu’s table, hands laced in each other’s like little girls eagerly anticipating for the next Barbie doll to come out.
You raise an eyebrow at them, and you feel their eyes continue to watch as you raise your chopsticks to grab at the steaming noodles in your bowl. You bring the noodles up to your lips, blowing away the steam for a few moments, and your best friends are still staring at you as if you’ve grown a second head.
Then you huff out a loose breath. “It tastes good.”
The grins that explode on their faces and cheers of celebration that echo across Mingyu’s apartment nearly make you choke on your noodles. Mingyu fist-pumps the air, while Soonyoung jumps up as if he just scored an Olympic gold medal, nearly knocking over his chair in his excitement in the process.
“See, I knew you’d still like it!” Mingyu affirms with a cocky smirk to his face, showing off his little fangs.
“You act as if three years is enough to change my tastebuds,” You mutter as you swallow down another gulp of noodles, shaking your head amusedly at their antics. The warmth of the broth feels comforting against the chill of the evening, but the feeling of being surrounded by your closest friends warms you even more.
“Well, it could. You did live in a whole ass other country for three years,” Soonyoung chimes in, leaning forward with an exaggerated pout. “What if you picked up some weird noodle preferences over there? Like… I don’t know, adding pickles or something. People change, you know.”
Mingyu groans and playfully shoves Soonyoung’s shoulder. “Pickles in noodles? Really, hyung?”
“Hey, it could happen!” Soonyoung protests, holding up his hands in mock surrender.
You roll your eyes but laugh despite yourself. “Relax, you two. I didn’t trade my soul while I was away.”
Mingyu just ruffles your hair with his hand, making a few strands stick annoyingly to your lip, while Soonyoung races away to turn on the television in the living room. Ah, your best friends are still obnoxious as they always are, as they always have been, sticking to your skin like fleas. You have no idea how you’ve managed to deal with them for so long.
Later that evening, the three of you settled on watching for old time’s sake, not before sharing a few bottles or two. Soonyoung, as always, fell asleep somewhere in the middle, and you took it upon yourself to tuck him in a pile of blankets from Mingyu’s closet, as well as volunteering to call an Uber for him because you really don’t trust yourself carrying him home. 
Once Soonyoung was tucked away and snoring on the couch, you flop back into the armchair, watching Mingyu as he drinks the last sip from his bottle. His cheeks are slightly flushed from the alcohol, but his eyes are sharp as he studies you.
A beat of silence passes.
“I ran into Jeonghan the other week.”
Mingyu nearly spits out his drink at that, coughing as he scrambles to set the empty bottle down on the coffee table.
“Jeonghan? As in Jeonghan? The Jeonghan that skipped your birthday three years ago?” he chokes out, eyes wide. 
The memory hits you like a wave. Your birthday was supposed to be a big day for you, as it is for everyone else. A day where everything felt right. But the entire day leading up to that point felt wrong. You invited your family and your circle of friends, including your boyfriend, Jeonghan. However, even then, your relationship was anything but smooth during that time.
Mornings were met with silent tension and distance; evenings were where the cracks became too hard to ignore. You always tried to brush it all off𑁋the subtle signs that something wasn’t quite right, because you loved him. You hadn’t known how to let go back then, but eventually, you did. It wasn’t easy, but it was necessary.
But Jeonghan never showed up, and it finally broke you. Not for the cake. Not for the family. Not for you. He just… vanished from the celebration you had carefully planned.
“Yeah,” You reply ponderingly, toying with the hem of your sleeve, avoiding Mingyu’s piercing gaze. “That Jeonghan. I can’t exactly avoid him that easy, you know? Seokmin and all of them are still good friends with him.”
Mingyu lifts up a suspicious brow. “So… what happened? Did you talk to him?”
You bite your bottom lip hesitant, giving a loose shrug. “We talked. Briefly. He was just there, you know? But he seems… different. And I’m still... well, me. He still knows me too well. I don’t know what to do with that.” You pause, remembering his eyes, the way he looked at you like no time had passed at all, and your heart tightens. “I don’t know what I expected. I don’t even know why I was there.”
Mingyu lets out a contemplative hum.
“Do you still care about him?”
Your brows crease together in thought, heat coursing through your system as Mingyu’s words float around your head like it was struggling to find a proper place to land. You weren’t expecting to face this again. You thought you were over it all, or at least enough to walk away without a second glance. The simple truth is there is an answer, but an answer that you aren’t sure you’re ready to confront. 
“I… I don’t know,” You respond weakly, letting your gaze fall down to the floor. “I shouldn’t be.”
“But you do?”
The silence answers for you. 
When the Uber arrives to pick up Soonyoung, you and Mingyu help drag him into the car and watch as the driver struggles to secure him into the back seat. Soonyoung mumbles something incoherent, his limbs flopping around like a ragdoll. Mingyu tips the driver a few extra bills, and you wave goodbye to a half-conscious Soonyoung as the car pulls away from the building. 
“I’m gonna head back,” You tell him.
Mingyu just lightly jabs a finger at your forehead. You hardly realise the small headache that was beginning to take form. “Yeah, you go do that. You’re a hot mess.” 
You roll your eyes at Mingyu, pushing his finger away, but you can't help the small smile that tugs at your lips. He’s right, though. Maybe you are a little bit of a mess right now. 
“Don’t do stupid things!” You hear him yell as you’ve walked about a block away from him, his voice carrying faintly through the night air. You wave back without turning around, a small chuckle escaping your lips. You don’t plan on doing anything stupid. You hope.
You walk past the café on your way home. 
Tumblr media
You were once convinced that you and Jeonghan had the perfect relationship.
Meeting through mutual friends, hanging out in secret, falling in love in ways that felt effortless and true. It wasn’t rushed or dramatic. It was easy. It felt right. So right. Like the kind of story you’d read about in a romance novel and think, ‘That’s what I want someday’. But someday had its limits, and reality didn’t care about perfect beginnings.
Back then, the café wasn’t just a cafe𑁋it was your café. The one Jeonghan had taken you to on your first real date. The one where he’d laughed at how you ordered hot chocolate instead of coffee, teasing you for your “childish” taste, only to steal a sip and admit he liked it too. The one where you spent countless evenings together, shoulders brushing as he flicked the tip of your nose with whipped cream and your hands interlocked under the table.
Every street corner, every park bench, every late-night convenience store run was marked by a memory you’d shared with him, memories exchanged with shameless promises that one day you’d conquer the world together. And somewhere in your distant mind, you can still hear his precious laughter.
But promises don’t hold when the people making them start to crumble.
Jeonghan lost his job, which worsened his financial struggles to be able to pay for school and the lifelong dreams he had told you during conversations in the middle of the night. Scholarships were dropped, he was having trouble between finding a steady income and taking care of his family, and he simply grew silent.
I just need space and you’re not giving me any, he would say. I’m just going through a ton of shit and need to figure it out on my own. 
On the other hand, your life was slowly but surely moving forward. You got accepted into a few prominent graduate schools, some local and some abroad. You were excited about what the future was giving to you, ready to embark in this new chapter of your life, but how could you go forward with that when you didn’t want to leave him behind? 
The break-up wasn't overnight. It wasn’t a moment of screaming and door-slamming; it was gradual. A missed text here, a cancelled date there, an unreturned call somewhere. You told yourself it was just a phase. People go through hard times, and this was his. 
It was easier to blame yourself, even though deep down you knew it wasn’t just you. You weren’t perfect either; you knew there were times you pushed when you should’ve been patient, times you misunderstood when you should’ve listened. But still, the end of the knife pierced harsher than you anticipated. His absence on your birthday had been the breaking point𑁋not just because of the day itself, but because it confirmed what you’d feared all along: he wasn’t willing to fight for you, for this, anymore.
He needed space. He needed time to figure things out. And you foolishly gave it to him. Too much space, maybe. Too much time. Until he was no longer the same person who had looked at you with the kind of love that made everything else fade.
Maybe that was the problem all along. You never knew when to let go, and Jeonghan never really told you when he was ready to.
Tumblr media
Dear 526, Don’t beat yourself up for being in your head too much. In fact, I think I’m starting to like what’s in your head if I haven’t written so already. Was that too forward? I hope it wasn’t.  The past certainly isn’t easy to leave behind, especially a past that you regret. I believe that’s where my dilemma is now. I can’t help but wonder if I’m being selfish in wanting some piece of them in my life. Just as friends would be enough. Maybe it’s some form of twisted karma for my mistakes. I guess I’m asking for advice, if it’s not too much. Enough about me though, tell me something about yourself. I’d like to get to know you more. Happy to hear you’ve been making peace with the city. Make sure you’re smiling at least three times a day. Knowing you’re happy makes me happy. - 017
Tumblr media
To 017, It wasn’t too forward at all. Reading that was probably my first smile of the day, to be honest. You’ve got a way with words, you know? Maybe this is why I look forward to your letters.  As for your dilemma, I understand. It’s easy to believe that if things were just different, everything could go back to what it was. You’re not being selfish for wanting a piece of them, but you have to ask yourself if that piece is worth the heartache. But if you really want to try, make sure it’s for the right reasons. You can’t force someone to be in your life, but I think it’s okay to let them know, or show that you still care, without expecting anything in return. I’m not sure if that’s the best advice, but it’s the truth as I see it. Still, you know them better than me. I wouldn’t say I’m particularly interesting to get to know, but I’ll tell you this: I like to sleep with my fan on, even in the cold. I’m weird. Tell me something about you now.  And I’ll be sure to smile three times a day, for you. Maybe I’ll even try for five, just to make sure I’m doing okay. - 526
Tumblr media
Jeonghan’s number is still in your phone. 
You found it the other night when you were doomscrolling through old messages, for no particular reason. You hadn’t thought about it for so long, not seriously at least, but here you were again, and it’s almost as if his contact had collected dust enough to catch in your eye and bring some heat there. 
Back then gave you all the reason for you to block him, or even delete it entirely. But for some reason, you didn’t. You never did.
You don’t do anything𑁋you don’t initiate a text or a call, because that would be incredibly dumb of you to do. Instead, you close off your contacts app, and call it a night.
You’ve made it this far, right? You’re not going to let Jeonghan drag you back into the past. You’re not. But when you close your eyes, it’s almost like you can still feel his presence, the heat from his body, the softness in his words. It’s comforting in a way to think about him, but also painful; a soft ache that doesn’t quite go away.
Days later, you find yourself wandering out of the local bookstore, a place where you used to hide away when you were younger to seek shelter from the city’s noise and study for your high school final exams. A couple of books are sandwiched in between your arms, the cold air hitting your skin the second you step out into the city, making you pull your woven scarf tighter around your neck.
Your steps are slow as you head toward the bus stop, the books in your arms pressing against your chest like some kind of shield. You don’t realise how lost in thought you are until you hear a voice𑁋a cheerful one, in fact.
“Y/N!”
When you whip your head around, you’re met with a stream of familiar faces. There’s Seokmin, a mutual friend of yours that you had met through Soonyoung; there’s Joshua, another boy who you’ve seen mingle within your friend group, and you’ve shared nothing but sweet interactions with; and then… there’s… Jeonghan.
“Seokmin! Hey.” You sift out a gloved hand to wave in his direction. 
“Hey! Heard you moved back into the city not that long ago. How’s that going for you?” Seokmin asks, and he still has that familiar cheery voice that could possibly cut through the clouds on a stormy day. 
“It’s been good so far,” You reply, managing a polite smile. “Still settling in, but it’s nice to be back. It feels like I never really left.”
Seokmin grins. “That’s great to hear! We’ve missed having you around.”
Your eyes flicker to Joshua, who offers you a kind smile, and then to Jeonghan, who stands a step behind the group. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his coat, and his eyes meet yours for a split second before you force yourself to look away. 
“We were just about to grab some warm drinks at the café,” Joshua chimes in, breaking the silence. “Care to join us? It’s freezing out here.”
You hesitate, glancing down at the books in your arms as if they could somehow provide an excuse. But before you can respond, Seokmin chimes in, “Come on, Y/N! It’ll be like old times. Well, kind of.”
You know you should probably decline. It’s the smarter thing to do. But something about the way Jeonghan is standing there, like he’s waiting for you to say something, keeps you rooted in place. Plus, it’s hard to say no to Seokmin. 
“I guess I can take a small pit stop,” You say, a hint of reluctance to your voice as you adjust the books in your arms. “But just for a little while. I have some things to get done later.”
“Of course, of course. We won’t keep you for long, don’t worry.” Seokmin gestures for you to follow along, and you do. 
Apparently, you’ve learned that Seokmin, Joshua, and Jeonghan all work at the café together, which is a bit of a wholesome fact to know. In Seokmin’s words, working there was a way to “stay close to the people you care about”, as he described it. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his idealistic perspective, even though you knew it was part of what made him Seokmin𑁋always seeing the bright side of things. It’s hard not to smile at how simple yet comforting his reasoning is.
Seokmin makes an immediate beeline towards the front counter with Joshua following right behind him, leaving you and Jeonghan standing together in a brief, lingering silence. It’s almost comical how the world seems to pause for just a second as you both stand there, unsure of how to move forward.
“Y/N.” Hearing him call your name sends a shiver down your spine, though you can’t tell if it’s because of the cold or the sound of his voice. “Your books are about to fall.”
You glance down at your arms, and surprisingly, he’s right𑁋one of the books tilted and threatening to fall down on the floor. However, before you could adjust them yourself, Jeonghan does it for you with ease, his hand brushing against yours as he steadies the books in your grasp. His touch lingers for a few moments longer, before pulling away, and your heart seems to trip on its own feet. 
“You’re still a bookworm,” he mentions with a small, almost wistful smile as he watches you adjust the books back into place.
You stiffen at the mention of it, the familiar nickname carrying with it the weight of all the memories you'd tried to bury. Bookworm. My little bookworm. A nickname he would shower on you with such affection. 
“Yeah,” You manage to say, the words feeling like a lie as soon as they escape past your lips, even if they aren’t. “I guess some things never change, right?”
Jeonghan hums lowly, crossing his arms together. “Right.”
The way his eyes soften when they meet yours is still the same, that tender look as if you’re the only person in the room, all before it all fell apart with broken promises and misunderstandings. 
But you’ve been down this road before, haven’t you? You know how this story ends.
You force a smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and step back slightly, creating a sliver of space between you and Jeonghan.
When Seokmin and Joshua retrieve a tray of drinks, you all trail towards the corner table of the café. And Jeonghan sits in the chair right beside you.
“Y/N! Did Soonyoung and Mingyu tell you about the ski resort?” Seokmin pipes up brightly before taking a sip of his drink, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
“They did.” You give a small smile. “Something like a little thing to celebrate the new year? I haven’t skied in ages. There were barely any things to do during winter when I was abroad.” 
“Well, you’re in for a treat,” Seokmin continues, clearly excited about the whole idea. “It’ll be a lot of fun! It’s just a little trip to unwind after the holidays. And it’s been way too long since we all hung out like that, so it’ll be fun catching up.”
You nod along, even though your mind isn’t fully there. Your attention is still on Jeonghan, whose quiet presence beside you is somehow louder than the conversation around the table. He’s just… there.
“You used to be pretty good at skiing, Y/N, if I remember right,” Joshua says, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts. 
“But that was years ago. I’m practically rubbish now,” You input in with a chuckle, your nose wrinkling with a weak laugh. “I doubt I’ll make it down the slopes without falling on my ass.”
“Don’t worry! We’ll be there to catch you. Probably. No promises,” Seokmin adds with a teasing grin. 
A faint laugh leaves you, the warmth of their banter making you feel a little less tense. It’s nice to be around familiar faces who were basically your entire life back then. 
“I’ll consider it,” You tell Seokmin with a knowing look. 
“Well, we’re taking it as a yes.” The pleased grin on Seokmin's face just widens even more. “You can’t back out now.”
As the evening flows by and conversation goes to more casual topics, you take the opportunity to dismiss yourself for the night. Seokmin and Joshua bid you goodbye with a couple of hugs. The chair squeaks as you push it in, shooting one last polite smile to the group before heading your way out of the café. 
“Y/N?”
Instinctively, you clench the books in your arms even tighter. Your heart lurches in your chest. Slowly, you turn around, and Jeonghan’s gaze is intent on you.
“Yeah?” You ask, the word suddenly shrinking around the two of you.
Jeonghan steps up to you, his hands slipping out of his pockets as he gives you a hesitant smile. You freeze up as you watch his hands come up to the scarf around your neck, and before you can react, he gently adjusts it, ensuring it’s more securely wrapped around you.  It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to him𑁋so long since you’ve felt his touch, the way his fingers lightly brushed against your neck, so casual yet intimate. Then he brushes away a stray strand of hair that had landed on it, before pulling back to study you. 
“There,” he breathes out, the corners of his lip curling into a faint smirk. “Better.”
You lift a brow up. “What are you trying to do, Jeonghan?”
“Nothing,” he answers simply. “Just trying to make sure you don’t freeze to death, as your friend.”
“Friend?”
“As someone who cares about you.” Then he takes a pause, adding in, “As a friend.”
Friend. The word feels both oddly comforting and bittersweet. 
You don’t respond immediately, unsure of what to say. His words feel like a subtle invitation to reopen a door you thought you’d closed long ago. But you resist, keeping the distance between you, even though your body betrays you with a sudden warmth creeping up your neck.
“Right. Friend.” You offer him a tight-lipped smile. “I should go. Have a good night, Jeonghan.”
Jeonghan opens his mouth like he’s about to say something more, but then he gives you a nod.
“Take care, little bookworm.” 
Tumblr media
Dear 526, Now I’m imagining you smiling after reading my letters. I could certainly get used to that image in my head now. I followed your advice, and I’d consider it progress in a way, to keep it vaguely. I have a question though: Do you believe in second chances? And you are weird. You’re telling me you don’t freeze while sleeping? I’m an absolute abomination when I’m cold. I need to be covered in layers or else I’ll become a literal icicle. But you’re not weird in a bad way, perhaps in a pretty cute way.  Something about me? I don’t like eating candy that much. Take that as you will. Yours truly, - 017
Tumblr media
To 017, You don’t even know what I look like. How could you possibly even imagine me smiling? For all you know, my smile could be absolutely horrendous and you wouldn’t even know it.  I’m glad you’re making progress. It sounds like you’re trying, and that’s more than a lot of people can say. Progress is progress, no matter how small, right? As for your question, I believe my answer would be… cautiously, yes. It’s tricky though. Second chances can be beautiful if people are willing to grow and learn from their mistakes. But other times, it can open the door to more hurt. It really depends on whether both sides are willing to meet in the middle. What about you? Do you believe in second chances? Not liking candy, though? That’s a red flag if I’ve ever heard one. What’s wrong with a little sugar now and then? You’re missing out, honestly. Chocolate, caramel, gummies? There has to be something, and I’ll get to the bottom of it. You’re stuck with me now.  I guess we’re doing complimentary closings now, - 526
017’s hallway is standing right before you.
It’s odd, really𑁋knowing that this mysterious penpal you’ve been exchanging letters for the past month or so is quite literally right below your feet, in arm’s reach if you really consider it. Your heart buzzes at the thought, a faint smile quirking up at your lips as you walk away from the hallway and into the outside world. 
You hope that 017 is having a good day, or feeling happy these days, and staying warm especially. 
Little do you know, the second you step outside, 017’s door opens, and you’re too far away to notice it. 
Tumblr media
Visiting the holiday lights festival has always been a tradition within your friend group. The centre of the city is dressed up every year for the Christmas season, painting the snowfall with colourful lights that twinkle in the crisp winter air. It’s one of those moments where time seems to come to a standstill, a sight before the eyes like a scene straight out of those cheesy Hallmark movies.
This year, it’s especially meaningful. Everyone’s grown up, and while the group hasn’t always stayed as close as they used to be (or moreso, you were the one who chose to drift away), there’s a certain comfort in returning to old traditions, even if they’re not exactly the same anymore.
“Y/N, Y/N, look! They put up the giant Santa inflatable again!” Soonyoung exclaims, clutching at your arm and pointing up towards the sky, which stood perhaps a two-story tall Santa Claus standing proudly and illuminated in all its glory.
“That thing’s still here?” You tease playfully, eliciting a cheesy laugh. “Thought they would have retired the old man by now. He deserves a break.”
Soonyoung lightly shoves you in the arm. “You’re heartless.”
As the group meanders within the festival, you find yourself trailing alongside Soonyoung and Mingyu, with Joshua and Seokmin behind, and… Jeonghan there as well, as he always is, but not enough for you. He’s quick to catch your sneaking glances towards him, meeting you with a knowing look and faint smile, and you have to force yourself to look away, ignoring the way your stomach twists slightly. 
The holidays are supposed to be a time for joys to be let loose, to celebrate the year ending while anticipating for the next one to come. You can’t help but remember the days as you galloped down the street, grins glowing brighter than the lights themselves as you held hands with the man who used to hold your heart so preciously, so sweetly, so tightly like he never wanted to let go before everything flipped upside down. 
Laughter floats around you, the sound of the holiday lights flickering against the night sky, and yet it all feels almost distant𑁋like you’re observing your life from the outside.
The giant Christmas tree is always the grand sight of the festival. Families and couples all gather around it, admiring its dazzling display of lights and ornaments, and capturing the moment in photos. The scents of cinnamon and pine fill the atmosphere, pieces of fallen tinsel scattered around the icy ground, and for a brief moment, you close your eyes, allowing the night to surround you.
“Did you make a wish?”
The voice pulls you out of your thoughts, and you glance up to see Jeonghan coming up beside you, snowflakes settled in his blonde hair. His hands are tucked into his coat pockets, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the Christmas lights. You hadn’t realised you closed your eyes that long, let alone make him wander away from the group to join you. 
The truth is, you hadn’t made a wish. You hadn’t thought about it. Hadn’t made any during Christmas when you were abroad. Wishes felt like something you used to believe in, back when things were simpler and life didn’t feel so heavy. Back when Jeonghan’s hand in yours felt like the only wish you’d ever need.
“I didn’t,” You reply nimbly. “Did you?”
Jeonghan smiles faintly, his breath visible in the cold air as he exhales. “I might have. But you’re not supposed to say it out loud, right? Otherwise, it won’t come true.”
You scoff a little at that. “Of course you’d say that.”
His smile grows wider, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes, one you know all too well. It’s the kind of look that always meant he had something up his sleeve.
Jeonghan chuckles softly, taking another step toward you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “Guess you’ll never know then.”
You both stand there for a moment, side by side, as the crowd flows freely around you. The world feels a little quieter in that bubble between the two of you. If you listened closely, perhaps, there’s words being said within the unsaid, lingering emotions simmering beneath the surface of the snow that paints the ground. 
The cold air nips at your skin, and yet, you don’t move away from Jeonghan, even as the heaviness settles in your chest. 
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” You suddenly say, breaking the moment. 
Jeonghan’s eyes flicker toward you, his expression softening slightly as if he wasn’t entirely sure what you meant. “Do what?”
You chew at your lip.
“Stand here with me,” You murmur, bringing your eyes down to your feet. “Pretend that everything’s okay. Pretend that this𑁋” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, your words faltering as you struggle to voice the truth you’ve been hiding. “𑁋is normal, when it’s not.”
The silence thickens around the two of you. He doesn’t immediately respond, his breaths coming out in mists in the cold air, and for a second, you regret saying it at all.
“I’m not pretending,” he says, his tone gentle. “I’m just here.”
“But you’re𑁋we’re𑁋” A lump forms in your throat. “This isn’t right.”
“So do you expect me to just walk away?”
“I expect you to understand that this𑁋us𑁋doesn’t just go back to how it was before. You can’t just show up and𑁋” You cut yourself off, a frustrated sigh escaping your lips. “You can’t just act like you didn’t abandon me back then, like I didn’t give everything I had and you threw it all away.”
You watch the way his expression rapidly morphs into a million different conflicted shades𑁋surprise, regret, a flicker of pain, something else you can’t quite place𑁋but he doesn’t move away, lips parting as if he’s about to speak, but he doesn’t say anything at first. The sting in your chest feels as raw as it did the day everything fell apart, and the day you left your past behind you by boarding that plane.
“You’re right,” is all he says, quietly. “I hurt you. Back then, I… I thought I did the right thing by𑁋”
“By pushing me away?” You counter back harshly. “You didn’t do the right thing; you did what was easiest for you.”
Jeonghan winces at your words. “I never stopped𑁋”
“Don’t,” You interrupt sharply, shaking your head. “Don’t say you never stopped loving me. Don’t romanticise what you did, Jeonghan. You stopped when it mattered most. And now you’re here, acting like we can just pick up where we left off, as if nothing happened. That’s not fair to me. To you. To us.” 
This time, Jeonghan chooses to stay silent, and you do too. The snow continues to fall around the two of you, making you bat your eyelashes rapidly, the heat in your eyes threatening to spill over. You force yourself to bite down on your lower lip to keep from breaking. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
Then you look over at Jeonghan, really look at him, and for a split second, you wonder if you could ever forgive him. But right now, you’re tired. Tired of holding it all in, tired of pretending that time could undo the hurt, that this moment could be anything other than a reminder of what you both lost.
You’re a coward, Yoon Jeonghan. 
“Hey, guys! Come on, we’re going to take pictures in front of the Christmas tree!” Soonyoung’s voice pops in and shatters the glass you and Jeonghan were standing on. 
The two of you turn towards the group, who were all huddled in front of the giant Christmas tree, hands waving excitedly to both of you. There’s a part of you that wants to walk away, to escape from the bittersweetness the world is raining down on you right now, but you don’t have the heart to𑁋your friends deserve to feel happy today. 
Jeonghan’s gaze shifts to Soonyoung, his expression unreadable for a moment before he turns back to you. His lips part like he’s going to say something else, but again, words fall short. Instead, he just gives you a quiet nod, and the two of you trail your way toward the group. 
But even as you walk, a part of you knows it’s not over. It may never be.
Tumblr media
To 017, I’m drunk right now, like can barely-walk-straight kind of shit. I guess I’m writing to you because you’re the one who’s been there. And I don’t know why, but I feel like you understand. Even though we’ve never met, it feels like you do. You ever wonder if you can really fix something that’s broken? Like, can you really put two pieces of glass together and pretend it wasn’t cracked? I don’t think you can. Not really. Even if it’s glued together, you can always see the line. I don’t know if I believe in second chances. I don’t know if I should. But I know that I still care. And that messes with my head. Maybe I’m just holding onto something because it was the best I ever had, even if it wasn’t perfect. Maybe I’m just afraid of being alone. I don’t know. Fuck, my brain hurts.  Goodnight, - 526
Tumblr media
A small package hits the tip of your toes the second you step out the door.
You stare down at it, mind still foggy, picking it up in your hands to inspect over it carefully. Taking it back inside your apartment, you set it on your kitchen counter, and your head is still pounding as painfully as ever, clearly not thinking straight when you tear it open without thinking that you’re ripping someone else’s package. 
Inside, there’s a bag, the contents of it containing a tiny bottle of Ibuprofen, a plastic bowl of instant ramen, and a water bottle, along with a note that had fallen straight to the bottom. 
Second chances don’t always look like what we expect. But maybe, sometimes, the cracks are what make something beautiful. Take these for your hangover and count your smiles today. And as always, stay warm. Carry this letter around to bring some luck to your week, if you wish. - 017 P.S. Credits to Google.
You stand there for a moment, staring at the piece of paper in your hands. Your heart pounds a little harder, the fog from your hangover lifting just a bit as the words sink in. The gift is simple, thoughtful, but it’s the note that really gets to you, and you find yourself smiling for the first time this morning.
017, just who exactly are you? You let out a sigh, neatly folding the piece of paper up. And how do you manage to get under my skin so easily?
Tumblr media
“Yoon Jeonghan, you’ve been staring at the door like a truck is gonna crash in and kill us.”
Jeonghan chuckles, letting out a groan from how he’s been practically leaning over the counter for an eternity. He wipes his already-clean hands on his apron, clenching and unclenching them, a crack from his knuckles breaking the tenseness he only feels within the cozy walls of the café.
“I’m not staring,” Jeonghan mutters in reply. 
“Yeah, and I’m the President of Korea,” Seokmin quips wittily, washing away a dirty mug in the sink. “No wonder you have back problems, hyung.”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes, straightening up and stretching his arms above his head. “My back’s fine, thanks for the concern.” He tilts his head toward Seokmin with a playful grin. “And for the record, if you were the President, this country would be in serious trouble.”
“Excuse me!” Seokmin exclaims, bringing a hand to his heart as if it was just absolutely crushed. “I’d make a fine President.”
“Ah, whatever you say, Master Lee,” Jeonghan jests teasingly, before returning his gaze towards the door. 
Behind him, Joshua is busy stacking clean cups in the corner, before peering up at his fellow co-workers with a sly look.
“You still love them, don’t you?” 
Jeonghan feels his body stiffen to the words, and the only thing he could do to cope with it is to simply chuckle, to simply pretend that the question didn’t blow a bullet through his chest, shrug it off like he hasn’t been thinking about you constantly for three fucking years. He’s been convinced that you won’t ever show up back in his life𑁋but here you are, and your presence is constantly punching at his throat.
There’s an almost dreamy lift to his lips as he stares at the door once again.
“Am I really that transparent?” he questions, but more to himself than to Joshua and Seokmin, his fingertips tapping rhythmically against the counter. “It’s childish, right? To desire something that you let slip right through your fingers?”
“Maybe not childish,” Joshua answers firmly. “You’re only human, after all.”
Jeonghan almost wants to laugh at that. When his gaze drifts back to the door, he can imagine you walking through it again, like you had so many times before, with your hand tightly clasped in his. 
For three years, he’s been carrying around the guilt and regret of letting you go and pushing you away because he was so afraid of dragging you down with him, when all you’ve done was love him at his best and at his worst. For three years, he’s been wondering what could have been if he hadn’t made the choice to walk away.
For three years, he’s never stopped loving you. 
The three of them begin to tend to their closing duties. The snow continues to fall outside, the night beginning its own routine lulling the world into a blanket of peace. Jeonghan continues to wipe down the tables and place the chairs in their proper positions on top of them, yet he keeps glancing at the door.
But he… knows better. He should know better. Things are different now.
“Hyung, you really need to stop doing that,” Seokmin calls out from the sink.
Jeonghan blinks, the weight of his thoughts snapping him back to the present. “What?”
“Staring at the door,” Seokmin continues, chuckling. “It’s not healthy.”
It’s easy for Seokmin to say that, of course. Easy for his friends to worry. He doesn’t have a history with you, doesn’t carry the weight of the unspoken words that still cling to Jeonghan’s chest like an unhealed scar. He doesn’t know how it feels to have everything slip through his fingers, to realise too late that he made the wrong choice.
Jeonghan lets out a sigh and throws away the dirty rag in a trash bin, gathering all the trash bags in one area to throw away later before they leave. Seokmin is preparing three cups of hot coffee to-go since he’s finished with his duties, and Joshua is finishing tidying up the counter. 
Seokmin is the first to leave, snatching his coffee on the way out, then Joshua bids his goodbyes for the night. Jeonghan fixes on his thick coat and snatches his keys from his pocket, stepping out into the cold night, not before turning the lights off and locking the door to the café. The neon sign above the door flashes to darkness. 
The snow crunches beneath his shoes as he steps back, taking a sip of hot coffee Seokmin had prepared and starting his way home. 
“Jeonghan?”
His entire body freezes at that voice, the familiar tone cutting through the stillness of the night. He doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is, but he does anyway. The cup of coffee in his hands suddenly feels colder than the night itself. And even in the falling snow, you still glow beautifully brighter than the streetlamps illuminating the icy roads. 
“Y/N?” he calls out to you. “What… What are you doing here?”
You adjust the beanie on your head, wiping off the snow that stuck to it. “Uh, was just… passing by, you know.”
Jeonghan hums at that, faintly smiling at how you pull your coat tighter around yourself. “As always?”
“Yeah.”
You both stand there for a moment, the world around you paused in that quiet, snowy space, as if the universe itself is waiting for something, anything, to happen.
“Are you heading home?” You ask, nearly regretting randomly asking that the second it left your mouth. But Jeonghan only nods, still holding his coffee with both hands, his expression unreadable in the dim streetlight.
“Mhm,” he answers softly, gaze flickering from the cup to you. “It’s been a long day. You?”
“Doing the same.”
The awkwardness lingering in the air is suffocating, but neither of you choose to move𑁋don’t want to move, perhaps.
“Would…” Jeonghan starts, tightening his hold of the cup in his hand. “...you want to walk with me?”
There’s that hesitation again, the kind of feeling that questions whether this thread between the two of you will strengthen or break off like it did before, but there’s something warm in Jeonghan’s presence, like in the way his sleepy eyes are holding yours in that familiar gentleness, in the way he’s waiting for you to answer.
And you decide against the tug at your heartstrings to walk with him.
“Okay,” You breathe out. “Let’s walk.”
It’s natural in the way you both fall into rhythm together, with Jeonghan on the side closest to the street, just like back then where he’d insist to be on that side to follow those drama clichés, and you’d threaten to push him into traffic just to prove a point. And he’d counter you back with a cheesy kiss to the cheek and your hand tightly grasped in his. Now, there’s a bit of distance. But not too much.
The walk is simple, with the occasional crunch of snow beneath your feet and your breath curling into the crisp cold. You both keep a steady pace, not saying much in between, but somehow feeling the years of separation fade, even just for a moment.
“You grew your hair out,” You comment, breaking the silence. “I… noticed when I first came back.”
Jeonghan chuckles softly, running a hand through his now longer, blonde hair. “Seems like I did. Didn’t realise it until I saw my reflection one day.” His voice comes out light. “I think it suits me, though.”
You smile, a small, bittersweet curve of your lips. “It does. It… looks nice.”
“Yeah?” he quips teasingly, the corners of his mouth upturning. “Say that again.”
“No.” You peer down at the ground, at the way your steps are in sync with each other. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”
He laughs quietly, that familiar sound that once felt like home. “I’m not trying to get anywhere.”
“Just making conversation?” You question, glancing curiously up at him. His gaze softens, the kind of softness that feels like a warm ember in the cold night.
“Maybe,” he only replies. 
This is strange𑁋this night, this moment. How you could go from pushing each other away to being pulled back like a magnet. It’s uncomfortable, but oddly not; worrisome at how natural you fall into rhythm with one another, yet different enough to make your chest tighten.
“Hmm, you haven’t changed,” Jeonghan says. “Still stubborn.”
You shoot him an almost-glare. “And you’re insufferably smug. Some things don’t change, huh?”
“Maybe not,” Jeonghan admits, taking a slow sip of his coffee. “But some things do.”
“Tell me then,” You add in pensively, tone shifting to something serious, almost fragile in the stillness of the night. “Tell me what’s changed and what hasn’t.”
Before Jeonghan could almost his mouth to answer, you feel something warm slip into the pocket of your coat and wrap around your hand, and your eyes nearly widen when you look ahead to realise you nearly walk into something, or someone. A man sidles past the two of you, footsteps careless and staggering as he brushes past you both, grumbling something under his breath that you can’t catch.
When you snap back to reality, your eyes dart to Jeonghan’s hand inside your pocket, and you feel his fingers wrapping gently around yours, your shoulder brushing against his as he pulls you closer to him. The heat from his hand seeps through your coat and spreads throughout your limbs. Your thoughts are telling you to pull away, and your heart is aching for something else entirely.
You listen to the latter.
Jeonghan doesn’t look at you immediately, his hand still enclosed around yours. You feel the way his fingers twitch as if he’s unsure whether to let go or to hold on tighter. He can feel something brush against his skin in your pocket𑁋a piece of paper, or something of the sorts. He doesn’t question it. His breath fogs in the air as he exhales, eyes on the ground for a moment before they finally meet yours, uncertainty flashing across his features.
It’s almost overwhelming, but there’s something in the way your fingers fit together, like they’re supposed to be there. Like they’ve always been meant to.
“Is your question answered?” Jeonghan asks softly, quietly. 
And maybe your mind nearly goes haywire at that. Because you don’t want to see him, but you miss him; you’re supposed to hate him, but you long for him all at once. Like candy, sweet yet bitter, cloying yet addictive, something that sticks to your heart and makes you ache with desire and regret all at once.
You think your question is answered.
When you feel his hand release from yours, the piece of paper from your pocket flutters down to the ground. Jeonghan watches closely as you pick the paper up from the snow and shove back into your pocket. He doesn’t say anything about it.
As the two of you reach a particular building, you both stop together. 
“This is my stop,” Jeonghan tells you. 
You gaze up at the building, before casting your eyes back to Jeonghan. “You live here?”
“Mhm,” he hums in response. “Why?”
“I…” Your voice trails off as you hesitate, unsure how to finish the thought. “I… I live here too.”
Silence. Absolute silence at that. The thought that knowing Jeonghan could be living even just a singular door down from you sends your thoughts spiraling. Out of all the places in this city, out of every street and apartment complex, it has to be here?
A flicker of surprise runs past his features, his lips parting slightly before curving into a small, almost amused smile. And it nearly makes you give in too.
“Small world, huh?” Jeonghan murmurs, breaking the silence. 
“Too small,” You reply, blinking at the building in disbelief and then back to him. A small laugh leaves you.
Jeonghan cocks his head to the side, still continuing to gaze at you. When you catch his eyes, there’s a softness there, like he’s trying to search through your face and rememorise every part of it again. You’re smiling, albeit faint𑁋the type of smile that doesn’t entirely reach your eyes yet still seems to light up your features. The more he thinks about it, it’s quite literally the first smile he’s seen of yours in… years. 
“You’re smiling,” he points out.
You zip your mouth up. “No, I’m not. I’m just cold.”
“It’s not a bad thing,” Jeonghan muses. “To smile around me.” 
When he steps a tad bit closer to you, you feel like you’ll nearly lose your balance as you step back, your heart hammering in your chest. Then Jeonghan stops in his place, letting out a long sigh, and turns his body towards the apartment building.
“Take care of yourself, okay?” he demands lightly. “And stay warm. Smile more too. It looks good on you.”
For some reason, the familiarity of those words send shivers down your spine, but you brush it off quickly.
No, it’s not him, You think to yourself. Right?
You clear your throat. “Yeah… You too.” Then you face the building as well. “Goodnight, Jeonghan.”
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
Tumblr media
Dear 526, Merry Christmas! I hope you’re doing well and staying warm, and counting your smiles as well. Do you have any plans for the holidays? Perhaps attending a Christmas dinner or chilling by the window with a cup of hot chocolate? I don’t have that much, other than a gathering with friends which I’m not sure if I’m exactly looking forward to or not. You’ve mentioned in your last letter that you consider me as someone who understands. I’m very flattered you think of me that way, but I want you to know that I just don’t understand. I care about you. Maybe a bit more than I think. I care about how you’re doing, about the little things that make you happy, the things that make you sad. Sorry. It’s nearly two in the morning as I’m writing this, and I guess I’ve been reflecting on everything we’ve exchanged thus far. Memories, second chances, little details about each other… Let me just be brave and say this: I’ve grown pretty fond of all that. Of you also, too. Anyway, I won’t take up too much of your time. I just wanted to send this out for you to read whenever you get the chance. I hope you’ve been smiling. Even if you don’t always feel like it, I hope you have something that makes you want to. Perhaps we’ll walk down the same hallway sometime? - 017
Tumblr media
To 017, Merry Christmas to you as well. I’ve been staying quite warm these days thankfully, snuggled under my duvet as I’m writing this letter. I hope your plans with your friends go well if you go. I have similar plans with mine too. Funny coincidence, don’t you think? But honestly, a cup of hot chocolate by the window is quite irresistible. And about what you said… about being brave. I think you already are. Braver than you might think. You’ve shared parts of yourself with me; I’ve shared parts of myself with you. That takes courage. So here’s me trying to be brave too: Would you like to meet up? I know a good place. - 526
I want to know who you are, 017, You think to yourself as you drop the letter in their mailbox.
Tumblr media
A hand planting on the door stops you from fully exiting your apartment building. 
You glance up, and Jeonghan is right there𑁋breathing heavily and uneven, as if he had just run two whole miles trying to catch up to you. 
“I…” You start, clearing your throat. “Good morning to you?”
A sheepish smile upturns his lips, and he pulls back from his iron grip on the door, fully standing himself right next to you. 
“Good morning,” he repeats softly, his somewhat sleepy morning voice reminiscent of the groggy days you used to share together. “Heading somewhere?”
“I was,” You retort back calmly. “Until you stopped me from doing so. You?”
“Opening shift at the dear old café.” Jeonghan chuckles out tiredly, like he’s stayed up until three in the morning tossing and turning in his bed. “Not sure if I want to deal with the world’s caffeine needs at the moment.”
“Yeah. You look horrendous.”
“I didn’t come here to be personally attacked,” Jeonghan says with a mock offense, though his smile is playful, eyes still a little sleepy but soft nonetheless.
The two of you stand there for a few long moments, letting the silence simply stretch between you both. You find yourself glancing at him more than you probably should, tracing the way his blonde hair falls messily over his forehead and sticks up in all sorts of directions, the way his hands are dangling to the sides as if he’s unsure what to do with them.
This time, Jeonghan is the one to clear his throat. 
“You could stop by for a quick coffee before you go… wherever you’re going, if you’d like, or anytime today,” he offers, his voice coming out almost timid, hesitant.
Your chest tightens to the invitation, and you divert your eyes away from Jeonghan. You know he’s not pressuring you, not forcing anything. It’s just a suggestion, a simple offer. Even though the two of you are floating between this vast space of being friends and what you once were, you know where it could lead. Your mind races to hold onto the distance, to remind yourself that you’re not quite there yet. Not with him. Not at this moment.
“I… I have plans today. With someone,” You respond lowly, a pang of guilt hitting your chest when the words leave your mouth. It’s almost a half-lie and a half-truth. You are meeting someone today𑁋017. 
The decipherable expression on Jeonghan's face shifts into a slow nod of realisation. 
“Ah,” he breathes out. The disappointment isn’t difficult to miss. His shoulders sag to the ground. “I see.”
A knot ties itself in your stomach when you see his features falter. 
“Jeonghan, I didn’t mean to𑁋” You begin, but Jeonghan interrupts you, the soft smile on his lips still there, though now it looks a little sad.
“No, it’s fine,” he says quietly, running a hand through his hair, his posture slumping a little. “I get it. Another time, then?”
You could only blink, pursing your lips in a thin line. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Take care of yourself, yeah?” Jeonghan nudges your arm lightly with his elbow. “I’ll see you around.”
With that, he dismisses himself out of the building, and you just find yourself standing there, floating. But you can’t stop thinking about Jeonghan. And you can’t stop thinking about 017 either.
Tumblr media
Boo’s Sandwiches is the place you recommended to meet up at. 
It’s a locally owned place located in the heart of the city. You’ve gone a few times with your friend group because Soonyoung is friends with the owner’s son, and you always considered it as another one of your little hideaways when life got too hectic. 
You arrive earlier than expected, nerves twisting in your stomach as you gather up a menu and sit down at a table at the very-most corner of the place. The warm scent of toasted breads fills up your nostrils, the hum of conversation taking place around you as you nervously scan over the menu. 
“Hey, Y/N! I heard you were back in the city,” a loud voice rings to your ears, and you pick your head up to see Boo Seungkwan dashing over to you. He leans an arm against the table as you adjust yourself. “Heard you lived abroad for a bit. Like… three years or something?”
“Yeah. Three years,” You reply with a chuckle. “But I moved back just a few months ago actually. Guess the city was really my calling.”
You’ve gotten to know Boo Seungkwan a bit over the years. Captain of the badminton team in college, a brief side hustle of his own podcast on Spotify at some point where he gave way too honest ratings about different music tracks, and a resident gossiper who seems to know what’s happening to everyone and everything. He mingled in and out of your friend group over time, but you like to think you’ve become well-acquainted with him. He has the type of personality that’s easy to be around.
You catch up with him a bit before he bids you an energetic goodbye and has to race back to work. The time passes by rather swiftly as you shoot the occasional glance towards the door, hoping to see the one person who has been hiding behind their veil of anonymity. But even as the snowfall outside blankets the ground and strangers file inside, you don’t catch any sight of who 017 could be.
They could be anyone𑁋from the man standing in line with his dark hair and long coat to the woman in a red scarf sitting at the window unwrapping her sandwich. Anyone could be the individual you’ve been exchanging these letters with, and yet, none of those options seem to align at all.
Your shoulders fully deflate when the time on your phone strikes the next hour.
Somehow you were dumb enough to not ask for 017’s number before agreeing to meet up, only agreeing to the time they wrote to you yesterday in their letter. Now you’re sitting here, feeling like a fool for thinking everything would fall into place.
A cup of hot tea sits barely touched on your table, steam curling lazily into the air. You try to distract yourself from the disappointment, staring at the menu and pretending to care about the choices on the laminated paper in front of you. But your thoughts keep drifting back to the empty seat across from you. Maybe something came up. Maybe 017 didn’t want to show up after all. You don’t know.
There’s a second of hesitation before you finally give in with a defeated sigh and stand up, leaving a tip on the table right next to your cup of tea. You say a rushed farewell to Seungkwan who scrambles with a tray in his hands when you’re already out the door.
And just as you’re more than halfway across the street, your back turned toward the scene behind you, the door to the sandwich shop chimes open. 
Seungkwan lifts his head to greet the customer, but when he catches sight of the figure, all he can do is give an unpleasant roll of his eyes when he puts the puzzle pieces together.  
“You’re late, mystery boy,” he says to the figure, who appears breathless from running. 
Jeonghan swallows a lump in his throat, immediately shooting his eyes around the place and outside the windows. 526 had already left.
“Fuck,” he curses to himself, before hurrying out the door once more.
Tumblr media
You find yourself jerking awake when Soonyoung’s head lands on your shoulder, his body almost crushing yours against the passenger door. When the car hits a random bump on the road, Soonyoung jumps up with an annoyed whine. 
“Can you be any more reckless?” Soonyoung groans rubbing his eyes and adjusting his seatbelt as he glares at Mingyu through the rear-view mirror. “If we die, it’s all because of you.”
Mingyu just chuckles, not even to take his eyes off the road. “Relax, hyung. I’d be rich for the amount of times I’ve driven your ass everywhere.”
Soonyoung pouts dramatically and lays his head back down on your shoulder. You definitely cannot fall back to sleep now.
As the ski resort begins to come into view, you gaze out the window, catching sight of the snow-covered trees and the scenic mountainous view. The ski resort is still a little way off, but it’s big enough that you can already spot a few bright buildings in the distance. Mingyu turns the wheel smoothly, leading you all into the parking lot.
You see people carrying their own ski and snowboarding gear as they head inside the resort. When Mingyu parks the car, all three of you crawl out to retrieve your belongings from the trunk.
“Seokmin and them should be coming, right?” Soonyoung asks while heaving a large duffle bag over his shoulder, eyes scanning the area as he stretches his arms out to shake off the sleep.
“Yeah, they said they’re about twenty minutes behind us,” Mingyu responds, tossing a backpack over one shoulder and adjusting his gloves. “We can check in first and meet them at the lodge later.”
You tug your scarf tighter around yourself, your breath misting up in the cold winter air. It’s been years since you’ve had a proper trip like this, and seeing all the families and people around you hits with a shot of nostalgia. You really aren’t sure about your skiing skills after so long, but it wouldn’t hurt to try at all.
The three of you enter into the lobby, a large, fancy-looking chandelier illuminating the vast space warmly. You shake off the snow that had been caught on your clothes and glance around the reception area. The resort has a cozy yet elegant charm, with its wood-paneled walls, plush armchairs, and the faint smell of hot cocoa wafting through the air. Guests are scattered across the lobby𑁋some checking in at the front desk, others lounging near the fireplace, sipping drinks and chatting quietly.
“Let’s get our room keys!” Soonyoung grins, already making a beeline toward the front desk like he’s on a mission. “Shotgun the bed closest to the heater!”
“Unfair,” Mingyu huffs, rolling his eyes as he trails after him, leaving you to smile softly at their antics.
You find out that the rooms you’re staying in require two people, and it already seems like Mingyu and Soonyoung have already chosen to stay in the same one together…
Seokmin, Joshua, and Jeonghan arrive about half an hour later, the cold air ushering them in as they clamber into the lobby with bags all in their grasp. Joshua greets everyone with a warm smile, his hands tucked deep into his pockets, while Seokmin immediately bounds over to Soonyoung with an enthusiastic hug that nearly sends them both toppling over onto the ground. 
You don’t miss the way Jeonghan’s eyes flicker toward you for just a second longer than they probably should when he approaches.
“So, two people per room. Joshua and Seokmin, are you guys rooming together?” Mingyu asks.
“Yeah. We are.” Seokmin says brightly, lounging an arm around Joshua’s shoulders.
“Okay. So that just leaves…”
Jeonghan steps up next to you, his arms crossed together. “Guess we’re rooming together.”
Your head snaps up to look at him, surprise written all over your face. “Wait, what?”
“They paired us up,” Jeonghan shrugs, but there’s a flicker of amusement in his expression. “Seokmin and Joshua are together, and someone has to deal with Soonyoung. That leaves us.”
There’s a twist to your gut at his words𑁋you and Jeonghan… in the same room? The last time you shared a room with him was when you were both still together, and all those memories of being tangled up in the same bed with him comes rushing to your head. You feel yourself hesitate for a moment, shooting daggers at your friends in protest, but none of them seem fazed at all.
“Okay,” You finally mutter under your breath. “Let’s go then.”
Tumblr media
The room itself is quite cozy. There’s a large window that overlooks the snowy view outside, and a wooden stand where a medium-sized TV stood. The warmth from the heater settles around you as you drop your bags, and your jaw drops straight through the floor.
There’s only one bed.
“You can take the side by the heater,” Jeonghan tells you as he plants his bags right next to yours.
You shake your head at that. “No, you can take it. You get cold easily.” 
Jeonghan raises an eyebrow at you, then a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, because of course you still remember everything about him. He brushes past you and sits down at the edge of the bed with the heater next to him, stretching out his legs with a contented sigh. You swallow the lump forming in your throat as you start unpacking your things.
It’s frustrating how easy it is for him to just breathe and slip under your skin, how his presence fills the room so naturally and effortlessly. 
“Y/N,” Jeonghan calls out from the bed. “You don’t have to avoid me, you know.” 
“I’m not,” You mutter flatly. After all, this trip was only for a couple of nights, you’ve dealt with much worse. “Let’s just make it through this weekend.” 
When the two of you finish unpacking, a knock at your door startles. Soonyoung pokes his head through the crack and peers at the two of you. 
“We’re about to get dinner downstairs,” he announces to the both of you. “Y’all wanna come?”
You shift your eyes towards Jeonghan, who only gives a nonchalant shrug, already standing up from the bed. Then you turn your head back to Soonyoung.
“Yeah, we’re coming.”
Tumblr media
There’s a lot of people at the slopes by the time the group gathers near the rentals. Soonyoung is the first to retrieve a pair and quickly put on his gear, a skip in his step as he waits for the rest of you to finish. 
“Guys, hurry up! Anyone want to hit the black diamond with me?” 
Soonyoung is met with ten eyes glaring back at him, all shaking their heads in unison. 
“I… I think I’d rather save my head, thank you,” Mingyu proses while stuffing his hands in a pair of gloves. 
After putting on some protective gear for the cold weather, you place your head into a helmet, making sure the straps are snug at your chin, but you struggle a bit with tightening it. The cold bites at your cheeks, but the layers of your jacket and scarf do their job keeping the rest of you warm. Your fingers fumble a little as you secure your gloves, and when you glance up for a moment, you notice Jeonghan coming right up to you. 
Then he comes down to your level, reaching out to adjust the straps on your helmet. His gloved hands briefly brush softly against your jawline, the momentary touch sending a jump to your stomach. 
You huff out a breath. “Jeonghan𑁋”
“Shh,” he shushes you reassuringly. “Just… let me.”
Concentration is etched into his features as he adjusts the strap, then a click echoes in your ears. 
Jeonghan steps back from you, his eyes still not leaving yours. The space between the two of you seems smaller than it should be.
“Better?” he asks. 
“Yeah,” You murmur quietly, hands twitching within your thick gloves. “Thanks.”
The fresh scent of nature fills your lungs as you lunge up the mountain with your gear in hand. You take a moment to adjust to the surroundings, feeling the nerves creep in again. It’s been so long since you’ve skied, and while the equipment feels familiar, you can’t shake the anxiety bubbling in your chest.
The group makes their way toward the beginner slopes first. However, it doesn’t take more than a second for Soonyoung to practically leap off the edge, hollering on the way down. Seokmin follows after him, not as confident but equally enthusiastic. Mingyu stays back, offering a steadying hand to Joshua, who wobbles precariously as he tries to stand upright on his skis.
You’re still standing at the very top, an iron grip on the poles in your hands as you gaze down the mountain. It wasn’t very far down, the pistes itself were wide and not that steep, but your heart still races as though you’re about to dive off a cliff.
“You’re nervous,” Jeonghan’s voice pops in and interrupts your anxious thoughts.
“I’m not,” You lie flatly.
Jeonghan doesn’t buy it. He steps closer, his skis gliding effortlessly on the snow until he’s right beside you.
“Bend your knees a little more,” he instructs you gently. “Make sure your weight is distributed evenly. Relax your body.”
You nearly want to roll your eyes at his unsolicited advice, but the encouraging tone in his voice keeps you from snapping back. Instead, you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. Jeonghan leans slightly forward on his own skis, demonstrating the posture he’s suggesting. His form looks easy and natural, as though skiing is second nature to him.
“Come on,” he coaxes, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
You groan at his tone as you replicate his position, bending your knees slightly and loosening your grip on the ski poles. Leaning forward a bit more, you shoot a glance at Jeonghan, who was only watching you with amusement.
“Now, do what your heart desires right now,” Jeonghan continues. “The path is clear. Trust yourself, and just fly.” 
You swallow thickly at that, feeling the cold air fill your lungs. Do what your heart desires. 
When you gaze down the slope, it hits you for the first time today that you don’t feel out of place𑁋that you can just let go. 
“Jeonghan?”
He faces towards you. “Hmm?” 
“I…” Stop messing with my goddamn head. “If I fall, you better not laugh at me.”
Jeonghan just chuckles, slowly trudging his way right to the edge of the slope. And without a second thought, he pushes off first, the last thing you see is a grin splitting his face. You watch as he glides through down the slope effortlessly, carving graceful lines in the snow as he speeds away. 
Letting out one last exhale, you push yourself off after him, and your heart races as you struggle to find balance. At first, it’s not perfect𑁋you wobble slightly, and your skis cross for a second𑁋but you manage to regain yourself, nothing but thrill blooming through your chest.
The wind brushes against your face as you begin to pick up speed, wanting to catch up with Jeonghan𑁋to be beside him, to be with him. Whatever tension within your body had begun to disappear; whatever lingering thoughts of unease you’ve had about the past months melt away with the sounds of your skis shooting through the snow; whatever thoughts about Jeonghan that you don’t have the guts to confront are replaced by sheer joy.
Because for the first time in a while, you feel like you can finally breathe. You’re not worried about falling anymore. You’re just following Jeonghan, feeling the distance between you both narrow. The past feels far away now. 
You push yourself harder, determined to reach him, your skis carving deeper into the snow with each turn. 
When Jeonghan looks over his shoulder and catches sight of you coming up to him, you could only meet his eyes back with a smile. A warm one. The first one in a very long time. 
The bottom of the slope starts coming into view and the speed picks up as you race down the final stretch. The excitement pulses through you, the wind whistling past your ears as you find yourself skiing right beside Jeonghan. 
But just as you’re nearing the very end, a sudden shift in your balance catches you by surprise. Your skis scrape harshly against the snow, possibly hitting some kind of bump hidden in the ground, and your body starts to tumble forward. The world tilts sharply as you lose grip on one of your poles, and then wham! your body falls forward into the soft snow.
A surprised laugh bursts out from your lips as you lie sprawled out on the ground, blinking up at the blue sky above you, snow falling down around you like confetti. You’re mostly laughing at yourself, the adrenaline still coursing through your body. Snow sticks to your clothes and body as you struggle to sit yourself back up, groaning lightly from the fall.
A minute later, Jeonghan halts to a smooth stop right next to you, peering down at you with a breathless grin.
“You okay?” he asks, extending a gloved hand towards you.
“Does it look like I’m okay?” You murmur out, hesitating for a second at his open hand waiting for you. 
You take the leap and grab his hand, letting him pull you up, but the moment you get yourself to stand, your knees cave in beneath you. The world tilts once more as your body falls on top of Jeonghan, the two of you collapsing in the snow together with a soft thud. The chill from the snow seeps even more through your clothes, but there’s also Jeonghan’s warmth too attempting to break in. Neither of you seem to mind. 
His arms are wrapped around your waist firmly, your chest pressed awkwardly against his and your limbs tangled together. Even when you attempt to push yourself off him a little so that you aren’t crushing him, he still holds you, and you let him.
Your eyes lock together as you gaze down at him, over his flushed cheeks and strands of hair that have fallen loose from his helmet. Your breaths are unsteady as you both simply just lie together, faces just mere inches away from each other.
Jeonghan’s lips curl up, his eyes briefly falling to a close. His grip around your waist refuses to loosen.
“I’ve missed this.”
His voice is almost too soft for you to hear, yet it’s the only thing you could hear. The world had muted itself just for this moment.
For a moment, everything feels like it used to𑁋like you’re not exes, not two people who let the silence break you apart, but just the two of you again. The two of you who laughed, who loved, who knew each other in a way no one else did. 
Your breath hitches at his words, and you open your mouth to say something, anything, but it all dies on your tongue when he opens his eyes back up to look at you. It all becomes overwhelming, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being tugged in two different directions𑁋towards him, and away from him. 
Reluctance plagues your movements as you finally push yourself off him, his arms falling to his sides as he watches you brush the snow off your clothes.
“I…” Your voice breaks in an instant, and when you lift your head up to gaze forward, you let out a sigh. “Come on… The others are waiting for us.”
All Jeonghan can do is give a nod, standing back up with you. The two of you head back towards the rest of the group.
Tumblr media
Dear 526, I’m so sorry. I really am. We were supposed to meet but the entire day had just gone absolutely wrong, and I ended up being late.  I know that it’s a very lame excuse to make, and I don’t expect you to forgive me right away or at all. But just know that everything I’ve written to you has been nothing but the truth. I’ve grown fond of you. I care about you. I always have. And I think I know who you are, 526. And no, I’m not just guessing. I think I’ve known for a while now. It’s like the feeling you get when you hear a song you haven’t listened to in years and it takes you right back to the exact moment you first heard it, or when you walk into a room that feels so familiar and you realise: this is home. I can hear your voice in my mind when I read your letters, and see your smiles in the words you choose. We never really had a proper goodbye, did we? Maybe we’re writing these letters to make sense of the past we left behind. I think you’ve always known too, haven’t you? Maybe I’m wrong. In some way I hope I am. Maybe I’m overthinking this and reading too much into everything. But I can’t help it. And I don’t want to live in a world where I don’t at least try again. However… if you don’t want that, I’ll respect it too. I miss you. I miss us. I’m willing to wait for you. Love, - 017
Tumblr media
To 017, I don’t know what to say to you. Or any of this, to be honest.  But I think that’s the truth, isn’t it? We never really had a proper goodbye. And maybe we should have. Maybe we needed too.  There’s a part of me that hates you. Resents you in a way that makes it hard to breathe sometimes. I hate the way we couldn’t fix it, the way we just let it fall apart. And then there’s another part of me that remembers how we used to be, how easy it was to be together. It’s the part that still thinks about you. You’re right; we never had a real goodbye, and maybe that’s part of the reason why we’re still stuck in this space between what we were and what we’ve become. And now, all I can wonder is𑁋
The sound of the door unlocking makes you scramble to put everything away. The pen in your hand falls onto the table, and you nearly rip the paper you were writing on as you ball the letter into your hands. 
“Y/N?” Jeonghan’s voice rings out throughout the room. “I brought some hot cocoa.” 
You bite your lip as you watch Jeonghan stroll across the room to place a mug on the nightstand next to your bed, the steam curling up into the thick air. After having most of the day deplete you of your energy, the two of you decided to head back to your rooms while the others were still outside.
Even then, despite the tiredness, you feel something akin to frustration boiling up within your body, because right now, he’s just so himself𑁋so casual about it all, like the years that separated you both don’t matter.
You stare at the cup for a second, then glance up at him. His face is soft, open, like nothing’s wrong, like you’re not two exes with history so messy it makes you want to scream.
“Why do you keep doing this to me?” Your voice cracks, and it’s like all the hurt, all the confusion, all the love that’s been suffocating inside you explodes out in an instant.
Jeonghan freezes in place from your words, his body tensing as you rise from your seat, the crumpled letter still clutched in your hand. Your pulse races faster, heart hammering as everything you’ve held back comes rushing to the surface.
“And… and these damn letters, finding out that it was you all along. Finding out that this stranger I’ve almost entrusted my entire life into is you…” You’re almost yelling now, your fists balled at your sides, nails digging into your skin. 
When Jeonghan opens his mouth to speak, you cut him off immediately. 
“I’m trying so hard to hate you. To hate everything about you. But dammit, Jeonghan, I can’t!” The hot sting of tears builds in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. “Every time you look at me like that, it’s like I forget why I’m supposed to... And I fall for it again. I fall for you again, and it-it’s killing me.”
Your body seems to lose its trust in the tears in your eyelids, and they spill over your walls, streaming down your cheeks like a raging river. Your breathing comes out shaky and uneven, your hands and legs trembling weakly, feeling like the floor below you may collapse at any second. You're not holding anything back anymore. Every word, every feeling, is coming out, and you can’t stop it now.
“I hate you,” You mutter quietly this time, and then take a deep breath, the faintest hint of a curl at your lips despite the tears staining your face. “But God dammit, I still love you.” 
Jeonghan remains silent, way longer than you think you can handle. Then when he takes the smallest step towards you, the lights in the room flicker sharply. And before either of you could do anything, the entire resort is plunged into darkness. 
You don’t know what to do other than just stand there, with the tears on your face drying against your skin, the silence feeling even heavier than before. Even Jeonghan himself doesn’t move𑁋you don’t hear any sounds of footsteps, or anything𑁋just his own breathing fighting to match with yours. 
With the power being out, the air around starts to feel more colder now, and you feel the temperature drop significantly within a few moments. The snow outside seems to be coming down stronger now. Of course this kind of situation had to happen right now. 
Then there’s a knock at the door and the sounds of footsteps shuffling. Jeonghan is moving.
“Hey, you guys okay in there?” You hear the familiar sound of Mingyu’s voice from behind the door. “Stupid snow storm knocked out the power in the entire resort. Do you guys need a hot pack? We have one left. And a candle for some light.”
Jeonghan and Mingyu exchange some other words you can hardly hear, before the door closes again. The light from the small candle illuminates Jeonghan’s face as he’s walking back towards you, his footsteps becoming louder and heavier as he approaches. 
“You’re freezing,” he murmurs after placing the candle down on the nightstand. “Here.” 
Before you can protest, something hot is placed in between your cold hands. The warmth of the hot pack spreads immediately through your fingers, but it doesn't quite reach the cold that’s buried deep within your chest and heart𑁋the cold that only Jeonghan could thaw.
You tighten a grip around the hot pack instinctively, drawing its heat into you. But there’s something else that seems to cover your own hands, aching for the same warmth. 
Jeonghan’s fingertips cling to the edges of the hot pack, his grip tightening even more around your hands. You can’t help but stiffen, unable to move away. The silence continues to stretch on in the space between the two of you. 
“It… It’s cold, and we shouldn’t stand here.” You feel him inch away, dragging you along with him. “Come on. Get on the bed.”
You don’t have it in you to refuse as Jeonghan gently guides you to the bed, your hands still clutching the hot pack, and the warmth from it seems to be the only thing holding you together right now. Once you sit down at the edge, Jeonghan doesn’t immediately place himself down right next to you, hesitating for a moment. Then the bed dips down with his weight, and the room itself seems to be holding its breath. 
Then you feel something drape around your shoulders𑁋the blanket from the bed𑁋and you watch as Jeonghan pulls it around both of you, the heat from his body seeping into yours, just like the warmth from the hot pack. 
None of you speak. You don’t need to. The candle on the nightstand flickers softly in the frigid air, casting shadows on the walls of the room. Even with him right beside you, the space still lingers. Every time you shift on your spot, your hand brushes against his, and it’s enough to send your heart into a frenzy of leaps. 
“Do… you remember our first winter together?” Jeonghan asks suddenly. You flit your eyes up to him, and he chuckles. “You stuffed like a dozen hot packs in my coat. It was so ridiculous, but you were so worried that I’d get cold.” His voice holds a warmth, a tenderness that almost breaks your heart.
You smile faintly at the memory, remembering that day very well. “Yeah, I do.” You shift slightly, squeezing the hot pack. “I like taking care of you.”
Jeonghan leans his body more towards you, ensuring the blanket is still wrapped around you both. His shoulder brushes against yours. You can’t seem to take your eyes off his face𑁋the softness in his features that are just so uniquely his. In your eyes, you see the man you love, the man you lost, the man who held such a soft heart in his chest. In his eyes, he only sees the person he once adored, the person he still loves, the one he failed to protect. 
“I really didn’t deserve you back then, did I?” He laughs dryly at that, and you feel his grip start to loosen slightly around yours. 
But you pull him back. 
“You did,” You say quietly, before lowering your voice even more. “You still do.” 
You see the way your words make him freeze, like he’s trying to search for the real truth in what you just said. His lips part for a moment, as if he was about to say something, but nothing comes out. 
“But back then, Jeonghan, you left, and you didn’t even give me the chance to fight for us. Do you… do you know how much that broke me?” 
Jeonghan’s head dips slightly, his brows furrowing as he looks down at his lap. The flickering candlelight dances across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw and the way his lips press together tightly. He lets out a sigh.
“I couldn’t even be the person for myself back then, let alone be the person you needed. So I… pushed myself away.” His eyes drift past you and out towards the window, where it was still dark outside but still snowing heavily. “I didn’t realise how much I needed you until after you left the country.” 
You shake your head, the frustration bubbling over again. “You don’t get to decide that for me. You don’t get to choose what I can handle or what I can’t. I loved you, Jeonghan. I still love you. And it kills me that you didn’t trust me enough to let me help you.”
“I didn’t trust myself back then.”
“And… and now?”
“I got help.” He fixes his posture. “I trust myself enough that I know what I want for the rest of my life.” 
There’s an ache to your heart at that, an ache that nearly makes you give in right then and there𑁋but you can’t. Not yet, at least. 
You gaze at him, and for the first time in a long time, you really see him. Not the man who had hurt you, not the ex who had left you behind without a word, but the Jeonghan who used to hold you in his arms, the one who used to smile at you like you were everything.
“And the letters?” You question. “The letters we sent each other… Did you know that it was me?”
He shakes his head.
“No, I didn’t at first.” A warm smile starts to creep upon his face. “But then we just kept writing to each other, and I felt like I already knew you. Somewhere along the way, I started to hear you in the words. I thought more about it, but I didn’t want to believe it, even if I knew in some stupid fateful way that it was you. So… I just kept writing. Hoping that maybe, you’d feel the same way.”
There’s a low, broken laugh that escapes you, the taste of bittersweet candy hanging at the edge of your tongue. It’s ironic how the two of you could say so much on paper than to each other on paper. 
“I hardly thought about how easy it was to open up to a stranger like that. How I could just… pour everything out without that fear of being judged, write all the things I couldn’t say…” You admit softly as you stare at the ground, still clinging to the warmth of the hot pack. “It’s like... I couldn’t face the truth that I missed you so much. But somehow, in those letters, I could. It felt safer to be vulnerable with someone who wasn’t physically there, someone who didn’t know all the messy history between us. It felt easier to pretend you were just a stranger, even if you weren’t one in the end.” 
You take a deep breath, picking your eyes up from the floor to look at him again.
“But it was always you, wasn’t it?”
Jeonghan nods slowly, an imperceptible, dreamy look dawning upon his features even in the extremely dim lighting. 
“Yeah,” he says lightly. It’s like the final piece to the most complex puzzle in history. “It was always me. 017.”
“I mean, out of all the apartments in the building, your drunk ass just had to send one to me? I wasn’t even properly moved in yet.”
Jeonghan lets out a hearty breath at the memory, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you share a laugh about the absurdity that brought you both back together. A stupid, tiny damn letter.
“Well, you didn’t have to respond, you know,” he comments. 
“Okay, well, my bad that curiosity killed the cat,” You retort back teasingly, and the tension in the room starts to ease just a little bit. 
Jeonghan shifts beside you, his fingers lightly brushing against yours again, and this time, there's nothing in your head or heart telling you to pull away, to push him away. You can hardly tell if he’s trying to keep his hand warm with the hot pack, or with you instead. 
Then the room grows silent again, like all the love and hurt that spilled over had been tangled together, making it difficult to distinguish where one ends and the other begins. And amidst that silence and the whistling of the wind outside, the longing you’ve both buried for so long flickers back to life like the candle on the nightstand. 
“I missed you,” Jeonghan whispers, his voice breaking against the quiet. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything.”
Jeonghan knows in his heart that I’m sorry doesn’t solve your problems, hell even the world’s problems. But right now, it’s all you need to hear, and your chest tightens when those words fall from his lips.
And he seriously doesn’t know how your face ended up so close to his in a matter of milliseconds, so close he could possibly simply move forward an inch and kiss you, so close he can feel the warmth of your breath on his lips, catch sight of the faintest smile to your𑁋
Your mouth falls on his before either of you can think, and it burns with the heat of everything you’ve been holding back for so long𑁋anger, love, regret, and yearning𑁋as if you’ve never been apart, and yet, it’s painfully clear how much time has passed. Your hands immediately fall limp on the hot pack as it lands right on your lap, forgotten between you both. 
Jeonghan’s hand comes up to gently cradle your neck, his cold thumb brushing against your skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. His lips move hesitantly yet tenderly against yours, as if he’s unsure whether he should let himself have this piece of you again. But the doubt clawing at his chest dissipates when he feels you pull him closer to you, kissing him back almost desperately. It’s like a promise, confession, and apology rolled into one. 
You let out a small, shaky breath against his lips, and it’s like oxygen for him𑁋the first real breath he’s taken in years. When he pulls away from you slightly, his warmth still remains.
Among the dimness in the room, Jeonghan innocently smiles at you. 
“What?” You ask breathlessly. 
Jeonghan just tilts his head, glancing down at your lips and back up to your eyes. You feel the hot pack disappear from your lap.
“Your lips are cold,” he remarks playfully, his voice carrying that all-too familiar tease that makes your heart flutter. 
But before you can protest further, the warmth of the hot pack suddenly makes contact with your mouth, causing your eyebrows to shoot up and a muffled gasp to escape from you. You swat at Jeonghan’s arm half-heartedly, but he holds it in place on your lips, your words coming out nothing but a mumble. The corners of his own lips quirk up into his signature, smug grin. 
“Stay still,” he teases, attempting to keep your face steady. “Your lips were turning blue. Don’t want you catching frostbite.” 
When you finally shove his hand away, the hot pack tumbles back into your lap, your cheeks flushing. Your faces are still mere inches from each other, and you gulp down the lump in your throat. 
You bring a hand up to cup his cheek. 
“I hate you,” You huff quietly, but the words don’t hold any weight, no bitterness between the letters.
“I know,” is all he replies with. 
Then you kiss him again, and the rest of the world fades away like the snap of a finger. There’s no stupid snowstorm, no power outage, no more walking around on eggshells, no tension in the room. 
“I love you,” You confess against his lips. It’s never felt so freeing to breathe right now. 
At that moment, Jeonghan swears to himself that he will never let you go again.
“I know.” His response causes you to disconnect away from him for a moment, and he just chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I love you too.”
Tumblr media
A beam of red briefly flashes in your eyes. 
You squeeze your closed eyes shut even more, a raspy groan escaping your lips as you slowly but surely float back into consciousness. The morning sun trickles faintly through the curtains, causing you to stir in your place. However, nothing but warmth quickly envelops like a cocoon around you, and when you blink your eyes open, the first thing you see is Jeonghan’s face. 
His arm is draped lazily across your waist; his lips parted sleepily in slumber; his chest rising and falling peacefully. The golden morning light shining into the room makes his hair look brighter, makes him look brighter, like an angel that has descended through the clouds. You can’t help but simply admire the sight of him. 
Even as you attempt to wriggle from his grasp, his arm tightens instinctively around you, pulling you back into his chest. His lips move faintly, murmuring something incomprehensible in his sleep, his eyebrows knitting together in a fit of confusion. When his eyes slowly start to flutter open, you could only softly laugh. 
“You’re still here,” he mumbles groggily, voice still thick with sleep. 
Your heart aches in the best way at that. 
“Of course I am.” Where else would I be?
Jeonghan blinks a few more times, adjusting to the world around him. The second his vision clears and he’s greeted with nothing but your presence, a drowsy smile curves upon his lips, and he presses himself even closer to you. 
“You’re warm,” he mutters, breath tickling against the skin of your neck. A shiver runs up and down your spine. “Feels nice…”
You stay still for a minute or two, simply basking in the comfortable silence that fills the room. It’s a quiet kind of bliss, the kind you thought you might never feel again. The kind that comes after years of hurt, after so much uncertainty, yet here you are. With him. In his arms. Safe.
“Y/N?”
Your eyes shoot back open dazedly at Jeonghan’s voice. “Hm…?”
“Do you regret it?”
His words linger in the air, making you pause. The only thing you can hear is his breathing, and the pensive look that plagues his features, as if he’s waiting for an answer that might define everything𑁋everything that has led up to this exact moment. 
You adjust yourself to face him fully. “Regret what?”
“Letting me back in.” 
The room suddenly feels suspended in time, like the world has stopped spinning itself. A knot ties itself in your chest, and the weight of all the hurt, the healing wraps around the two of you. But as you take in the vulnerability in his eyes, the softness in the way he’s here, you realise the truth. Your love has always been his. 
“No,” You answer back quietly. “because I never let you go in the first place.”
Jeonghan doesn’t respond immediately, and the silence stretches on. He exhales slowly, his hands running up your back gently, his eyes falling to a close once again. This is real, is all he can think about, all that he continues reassuring himself. You’re real. We’re real. 
You’re here.
His lips ghost over your skin as a faint smile tugs at his lips, burying his face in the crook of your neck. 
“You know,” he begins. “I dreamt about this.”
“About what?”
“This.” His arm tightens around your waist as if to emphasise the point, his grin widening even more. “Waking up next to you. Holding you in my arms where you’ve always belonged.”
You could only roll your eyes, but your heart betrays you. You know that Jeonghan can feel it. “Don’t push it.”
“Too late, angel.”
His laughter sends ripples of love travelling up and down your body, his touch making sparks explode right at his fingertips. The past doesn’t hurt as much, not in this quiet space where you both exist, where the world outside could be burning, and it wouldn’t matter. What matters now are the tomorrows waiting for the two of you, the love that never quite left, and the healing you’ve begun. 
Jeonghan presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck, right at the spot beneath your ear, and you let out a contented sigh. He continues to lazily trace his promises on the fabric of your sweater. 
“Dear 526,” he mumbles languidly against your skin. “It was always you.” 
It's such a simple thing to say, and yet it feels like everything you’ve both been avoiding and yearning for has been said in that one sentence. It was always you. There’s no longer doubt or the ghosts of your pasts coming back to haunt you, but rather with the quiet promise of a future that you never thought you'd have together again.
“To 017,” You start. “It was always you, too.” 
Tumblr media
fic taglist ʚɞ @fragmentof-indifference @mrsjohnnysuh @woncheecks @marrblee5 @alonelystarfish
@filmnings @nshitae
taglist (open) ʚɞ @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @eternalgyu
@lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @ryuwonieebae @wonwooz1
@planetkiimchi @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23
@phenomenalgirl9 @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit
@bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @starshuas
@totomoshi @armycarat2612 @etherealyoungk @gigification @ahuiahoe
@svtficsarchive @lllucere @reiofsuns2001 @imujings
760 notes · View notes