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intromortal · 3 months ago

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✷ LIQUID SWEETENER ⸻ sim jaeyun

jake takes care of his sick girlfriend, but with an unexpected twist.

this work contains ⋆ smut. mdni. established relationship, reader has a fever, she's very annoying tbh but it's bc she's ME! it's okay tho bc jake is equally as bad. spitting medicine in someone's mouth... is this sanitary? absolutely not but i also can't bring myself to care, fingering, praise, degradation (use of slut like once? and pet), he's mostly very sweet tho i promise, oral f!rec, squirting, mentions of free use, multiple orgasms, quick aftercare, jake comes untouched he's down bad sorry ! ⸻ rules ⋆ m.list

length ⋆ oneshot ⸻ 5.2k words

✷ NIA — i finally got around to rewriting this omfg. this rewrite is for my sweet @heechwe and all the nonnies who asked for this to be posted again <3

It's not everyday Jake gets to take care of you, so when you're all sickly and weak, it's hard to evade his attentions no matter how hard you try.

Jake pouts when you shoot down yet another attempt to get you to take your medicine. "Why don't you just chug it? I promise it's not as bad as you think."

He’s been trying to get you to swallow at least a tiny dose of the sweet fever syrup for the best part of an hour, after every attempt to get you to down any kind of pill resulted in you hiding them somewhere underneath your cozy pajamas, against your burning skin.

"If it's not as bad as I think, why are you suggesting I just chug it?" Your voice is slightly muffled as you eye him suspiciously from under the heavy cover pulled up all the way to your nose.

"You're the one insisting it's disgusting without even trying it, I asked for the best flavor possible when I got it." He made sure to pick out a syrup that doesn't taste straight up radioactive, knowing you well enough to predict you’d make a big fuss about the nasty taste. Yeah, he can picture it right in his head, how you’d gag dramatically at the smell and just beg him to go get the tablets again—which you wouldn't agree to take anyway.

For how much you hate being sick, you seem to dislike the idea of getting better quickly even more.

“You would feel so much better if you just took your medicine,” he sighs, resting the cap filled to the brim with honey flavored syrup on the crowded comforter, careful not to leave it too close to the edge. He licks whatever residue is left on his sticky fingers. "Really not that bad. It's sweet."

"So it's not good either," you huff back, trying to wiggle yourself out of the cocoon of blankets Jake wrapped you in as soon as you fell asleep. "I'm not even that sick anyway.”

“Yeah?” Jake looks at you with an arched brow, then points his head to the little mountain of discarded, snot filled tissues overtaking your comforter, the ones he was in the middle of throwing away. “This right here is breeding grounds for bio terrorism allegations.”

He stops you from getting out of bed, securing the warm fuzzy covers around you again. “No need to leave, just tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you,” he whispers against your lashes, placing a soft kiss to your closed eyelid.

“Just wan’ you.”

His plump lips thin into that gorgeous wide smile of his as he speaks,“but you have me baby, I’m right here, yeah?”

He knows very well what you mean, and a frustrated grumble spills out of you at the thought. Cheeky bastard, of course he wants you to say the quiet part out loud. Neither of you is used to going without pleasuring each other for long periods of time, and anything longer than three days is eons according to Jake. You're surprised he's behaved as well as he has this past week, you thought he would be the one to cave in first.

“Want…more,” you crank one of your eyes open, struggling when a droplet from the wet towel on your forehead Jake promptly changed every fifteen minutes slips in it. You blink a few times, adjusting to the light in the room before looking over to Jake, his grin still wide and brightening up his whole face, his head turned to the side as he observes you lovingly, a strand of hair longer than the rest tickling the side of his nose.

If Jake has to be completely honest with himself, he's not particularly sad at you being a little sick.

Sure, it sounds mean when he says it out loud, but you're not doing so badly or in any kind of pain that would worry him, and he enjoys doting on you like this, with you having no choice but to take his love. Can’t blame a man for wanting to take care of his girl, especially when said girl has a streak of refusing to just lay back and let him do the work.

You're always hiding your pain and vulnerability from everyone around you, so he enjoys knowing he's helping make it at least a little better for once.

You—however—wouldn’t exactly agree that he's making you feel better, definitely not by walking around with damp hair from the shower and intoxicating the air around you with the lingering salty marine and musky notes of the cologne he always sprays on his fresh change of clothes. A smell you usually related to comfort and home, making your head spin in the best way possible, a whirlwind of anything but pure thoughts crowding your mind.

Jake takes notice of the subtle shift in the air around you right away. You had been–subtly at first—laying down little hints for him to pick up, you craved him. Had been craving him for what felt like forever, ever since you got sick. A nagging hunger that just grew further with every hour he silently ignored it.

Usually you would busy yourself with random tasks, keeping your thoughts clear of images of his hands, or his plush lips and how he always absentmindedly licks away at them or how—you get the idea. But being sick doesn't help, being physically weak and needing rest doesn't stop your mind from running wild. Made it worse, actually, since you have nothing to do but lay in your bed all day. If only he’d slide right next to you under your covers and—

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jake interrupts your thoughts, a hint of amusement shining through his smooth tone. You look up to him hopefully, breath caught in your chest fearing the next few words he's about to say. “And you’re still too sick.”

Really not being dramatic, but you're pretty sure a boulder just crushed you right on your chest. You groan, turning to the other side so you can properly sulk without having to look at Jake’s stupidly handsome face. A face you'd love to ride as soon as possible.

“No like, you actually hate me,” your voice is muffled by the pillow currently squished against your face.

“What are you even doing.”

“Trying to suffocate myself since my man hates me.” You grab the sides of the pillow and push them to cover your ears, making Jake erupt in a fit of boyish giggles.

“No I don’t, just want you to feel better first,” he whispers, and the loving tone makes your body feel light.

You suddenly push yourself up with your arms to look at him, nest of hair a mess from the speed of your movement. “I would feel sooo much better with your fingers deep inside me right now.”

He looks at you for a moment, really looks at you, assessing what to do in this situation. He too misses your touch, far more than what he lets on. Even just sleeping next to you—a pillow fortress separating you two by your request—turned out to be too much for him on multiple occasions. He often found himself silently sneaking out of bed to go and take care of his sudden little problems in the bathroom, trying not to wake you up because he knew if you caught him he wouldn't be able to get out of your claws.

And you really need the rest.

As if sensing his resolve wavering, you add, “don’t I deserve a little reward?”

“A reward… for what?” Jake is thoroughly amused by your desperation. You rarely ever get like this, and he enjoys every second of it. You can tell because he's pushing it a little farther than what he usually would, ending up punishing himself a little along the way too. On any other occasion he would've been all over you before you could even finish your sentence. But Jake doesn't care, not when he doesn't know when the next time he gets to hear you beg a little for him is gonna be.

“Well of course! For having fought this fever tooth and nail and having come out of it alive.”

“You still have a fever though,” he says. “Could kick your ass right down at any given moment.”

“That.” You glare at him with all the fake anger you can muster up. “Is such a mean thing to even suggest.”

“Don’t you care about me getting sick? Made a scene all week and now you’re okay with me touching you?”

“First of all—I only made you keep the pillows between us the first two days. And like I told you, I feel better, so if—” the words die in your throat as you feet the bed dip underneath the weight of Jake’s knee.

"No, no. Keep talking." He slowly gets under the covers, and it's not because he's testing your reaction. His presence felt different, the soft look in his eyes overtaken by something more primal, and you couldn't help but feel like prey under his watchful gaze. It felt intimidating in a way you weren’t used to. It made you squeeze your legs together in search of any friction, your already feverish skin somehow feeling even hotter.

You try to hide the way you gulp, eyes still fixed on his body as he gets comfortable on his side, facing you.

“Maybe you’re right,” Jake whispers against your cheek, his nose rubbing for a moment on your skin as he sneaks an arm underneath your body, pulling you flush to his chest. Even just that single touch sends an electrifying shiver down your spine. “Since you’re fully capable of talking my ear off…”

You reach for his hand wrapped comfortably around your waist and guide it down to cup your heat through your thin shorts, your own hand resting on top of his as you grind against it.

"I suppose you've had enough rest."

You take notice of how his breath hitches in his throat, his carefully crafted mask of calmness slipping as you use his hand. The illusion wears off even more when he tries to hide it with a gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. You know he wants it just as bad as you do, you're just willing to beg for it as long as it gets you what you want.

“I’ll—” you gasp when he flexes his fingers that tiny little bit you need to be able to feel them press against your fluttering hole. “I’ll do anything, just please make me cum.”

“Anything?” his voice is light and airy as he moves the fabric of the shorts out of his way. A deep chuckle tickles your neck, Jake’s mouth dipping down do leave open mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin.

“Anything, just… please,” you whine, flexing your neck to allow him more space, his tongue dipping to lick a stripe down to the juncture of your neck.

Had you not been so deprived of Jake’s touch, you would have found the way you're grinding up against his hand and moaning in his ear almost embarrassing. But you're desperate, so you can't bring yourself to care too much about how pathetic you probably look to anyone else.

The only people in the room are you and Jake anyway, and he seems to be thoroughly enjoying it. His cock is stiff in his sweats, almost painfully so, from feeling how wet you are through your shorts. Dripping already and he barely touched you.

"You're so fucking hot. You know that?" Jake nibbles the shell of your ear, making you arch further in his hold. “You'll do anything you said? How about you take your medicine then?” He moves his hand from your mound to grip your thigh, ignoring your weak attempts at clawing his arm to get the little taste of pleasure he took away from you back.

He kisses his teeth, eyebrows furrowing in faux disapproval. “Use your words. What will you do?”

“Take my medicine,” you whimper, looking into your boyfriend's eyes despite the tears aligning your waterline, and finding amusement swimming through his gaze. Little piece of shit. Not that you were about to complain or anything.

“Theeeere we go,” Jake sings in your ear, placing a soft kiss behind it before dipping down once again and resuming his sweet torture. “You can be good once in a while.”

You nod, lips thinning to keep quiet as if any wrong sound could make him change his mind and leave you hanging. The hand that was drawing circles on your thigh comes up to hold your chin, carefully tilting it away from Jake’s mouth as he sucks on a particularly sensitive spot on your skin. He smooths over your lips with his thumb, coaxing them to part once again.

“Let me hear how good you feel, baby,” he mumbles, mouth still latched on your neck, before taking a strong whiff off your scent. Had you not been so distracted by the wetness seeping out of your clenching hole and soaking your panties, you would've noticed how his eyes rolled all the way back in his skull at your smell.

His free hand finally slides under your shorts,and a gasp leaves you because of how cold he feels. Jake is always warmer than you, but your fever makes it so his touch feels icy against your skin. Your back arches slightly when one of his digits parts your sopping folds, your sensitivity heightened by the unusual difference of temperature.

“Poor little thing, she’s got a fever too,” he giggles into your neck, another digit joining in as he slowly drags them from your clit to your hole to coat them in your juices. “But it’s okay, I’ll help her feel better.”

Usually, his stupid little jokes would’ve made you groan and push his face away. But this time—blame his voice for being deeper and hoarser than normal, or blame your fever—it makes you clench around nothing, cunt feeling emptier than ever while he takes his sweet time playing with you, savoring the moment.

Your head digs deeper into the pillow, hips lifting from the bed to follow Jake’s torturous movements, desperate to feel something more.

“So needy…” he breathes into your neck and goes back to placing sloppy open mouthed kisses wherever he can reach.

A yelp leaves your mouth, eyes you didn't even notice you closed shooting open when Jake bites down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, just enough to rip you out of the trance you were quickly falling into. He smooths over the little bite mark with this tongue, a tingly sensation overtaking the pain in a matter of seconds, the pleasure overriding anything else.

Jake finally prods two of his digits into your hole, testing the waters, still careful not to push you too hard so soon. But your reaction is instantaneous, cunt fluttering against his fingertips right away. He has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep most of his noises in. “God… I fucking love it when you act like a little slut.”

Jake is so fucking turned on, he can barely think about anything but your pussy. The only thought in his mind is get her off, make her feel good, get a taste of her sweet cunt, sweet pretty and oh so delicious cunt… like a broken record. He feels like he was born for this and this only, as if his mission in life is just that of pleasing you. And to think he had deprived himself of such bliss for even a few days… Something in you seems different to him, almost animalistic, from the way you rut your hips against his hand as soon as he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, to the way you aren't even trying to hold in your moans like you usually would, mouth hanging open with a string of drool attached to your lips. And this is just from his fingers, he can do so much worse.

You yourself aren't doing any better, your brain basically turned to mush as you help Jake get you off by essentially riding his fingers, despite how weak you feel from the fever. His fingers are so long, hitting all the right spots you know you could never be able to reach by yourself, and his thick knuckles drag against your walls so deliciously.

“S-so good,” you gasp when he turns his fingers just the right way, hitting the spot he knows has you coming undone in just a few strokes.

The room is filled with the slapping sounds of his palm against your drenched cunt, more and more slick dripping down your thighs and onto the bed with every flick of his wrist, making it all that much more obscene and filthy. You can feel the familiar pressure building up in your tummy, and suddenly the overwhelming need to just grab onto something crashes on you, heavy and almost painful. You claw at his shirt, eyebrows furrowed in deep pleasure, unaware of the fact that Jake is not facing you anymore.

He looks at the comforter, over his shoulder. The cap filled with syrup is still there amidst the mess. He twists his body to grab it, careful not to slow down the relentless pace he's fingerfucking your cunt at. A few drops of the liquid spill onto his shirt as he takes a sip of it, a grimace overtaking his features as he tries his best to hold it in his mouth. You're still a moaning mess by his side, tiny brain turned to putty to the point you don't even register anything else happening around you, so hyper focused on the pleasure your boyfriend is providing you with.

“J-Jake, I’m so close.”

Perfect timing.

Jake grabs your jaw to turn your head towards his, applying the pressure you've learned means it is time to part your pretty lips and take his spit, like the good well behaved girl he know you to be. And you do just that; immediately following his movements like he trained you to, tongue sticking out too for good measure.

He bends down slightly to aim better, but this time, instead of the slightly bitter taste of his saliva you expect, he lets small amounts of medicine fall on your tongue.

You uselessly try to back away from him, but he holds you in place, fingers still working inside your cunt. Nor does he allow you to close your mouth despite your surprised gasp. His hand holds your jaw open, grasp getting firmer every time you try to break free from it. After all, you made a promise, and Jake's going to make sure you fulfill it.

“You weren't going to take it, huh?” Jake mouths against your lips once he makes sure you swallowed every last drop of the thick honeyed syrup, holding eye contact with you through it all, fingers never once slowing down their pace. “Little dumb pet thinks she can outsmart me.”

He smashes his mouth on yours, not so much a kiss but a silencing of any complaint you're about to spit at him. Those turn to even more whines when he finally brings his thumb to your clit, drawing harsh circles on it as he fucks you to your orgasm. It's almost instantaneous, you were so close already, his stiff cock rubbing against your thigh and his pants hot in your mouth, but his thumb so cold against your neglected clit.

“That’s it baby, so good for me, yeah.” Jake’s fingers gradually slow down inside you, making sure you got every last bit of pleasure you could possibly experience from this high. He too relishes in how your cunt pulses around his digits, making it harder to move them inside you. Oh, he wishes it was his cock being constricted like that instead, but that can wait.

You finally feel like you can breathe again, chest heaving to catch in as much air as you possibly can, forehead all sweaty from the exertion.

The sheets are drenched around you, and you can't even pinpoint when it happened, but you can immediately tell you aren't the only one who made a mess. Your gaze wanders to Jake’s pants, and a very evident stain on his crotch catches your attention. And fuck, if you aren't ready to do it all over again.

Jake looks absolutely divine; hair disheveled and soaked from the sweat, boxers and sweatpants full of cum. A waste, truly.

You sneak your hand in his pants, ignoring the loud hiss from overstimulation Jake lets out when you wrap your hand around his cock and pump a few times, your thumb swiping on his exposed head to collect some of the cum covering it.

Jake watches you, mouth ajar and cock stiffening again right away, as you lick your fingers clean. He slides his own fingers out of your cunt, lapping at them like a man starved, hoping to work you up just as much as you did him. His heart races in his chest as you keep looking at him, a little smile playing on your lips.

“That was so…” you speak up, giggling when Jake interrupts you by throwing himself over your figure, capturing your lips in an actual kiss this time. A very messy, very wet kiss. Allowing you to savor your own taste mixed with his and sweetened by the medicine.

“I think the word you’re looking for is hot.”

“Dramatic,” you interjected. “So, so dramatic.”

Jake curls an eyebrow at you. “You were the one acting like it’d kill you to swallow some syrup. And actually, let’s not forget–” He places a quick kiss on your nose before pushing you against the mattress further, his entire weight on you. “Ohhh no Jake! Please my Jakey! If I don’t get your cock right now I will DIE!”

“Well I still hav–”

“And won’t.” he deadpans, sensing where you're trying to stir the conversation. “But I’ve got a few ideas.”

You smile to yourself, feeling feather light kisses making their way down your body, with his messy hair tickling your skin every so often. He places a soft kiss on your mound, whining dramatically when you grab a few strands of his hair to stop him. He rests his head on your thigh, puppy-like eyes looking up at you, almost pleading for permission to continue what he started.

“I really don’t want you to get sick,” you say, voice coming out in a whisper full of care, your fingertips playing with his hair and enjoying the way he nuzzles his head further against your skin.

“Well if I were to get sick by touching you… I’d say the deal is sealed by now, no?” He places another kiss on your thigh, teeth slightly grazing the plush skin when you take too long to contemplate whether to give in or not. “Actually, I think some of this syrup would heal me right now.”

“Jake. I’m being serious.”

“What could I possibly even catch from eating you out that I haven't already by exchanging spit with you? Best pussy in the world disease?” He laughs at his own joke, gaining a roll of the eyes from you. “Let me tell you, the chances of that happening are close to zero anyway. I don’t have a pussy but I am the proud owner of a very fat co–”

“You are downright insufferable.”

“Okay so shut me up with a mouthful of this pu–”

The rest of the sentence is muffled against your mound as you push his head down, deciding you heard enough for the day. And the week.

“Okay, okay. Go on,” you giggle as you lay back once again, a deep sigh following as soon as his expert tongue makes contact with your cunt.

Jake's movements are slow and deliberate at first, as he takes his sweet time collecting all of the slick coating your lips and smearing it all over your skin. It's methodical in a way Jake very rarely is, nothing like the primal and messy mixing of his own spit with your arousal and grunting noises you're so used to. When he gets like this, it's purely to tease you.

You grab a fistful of his hair, the strands soft in your hand, and raise his head to force him to look at you.

You almost regret it when you're met with the sight of him licking his lips, his plump lips spreading in a grin that looks almost evil. His irises are entirely drowning in the dark of his pupils, and you'd be lying if you said it doesn't send a chill down your spine. The good kind, the type that also makes you clench your thighs against his frame.

"If you're gonna beg me to eat me out," you say, finding your strength again and being careful not to let Jake see any weakness on your features. "You better do it properly."

You try to keep a straight face when he erupts in a fit of giggles.

"Oooh, look at you—" he starts, clearly amused by your attempt to assert dominance. "I know what I'm doing. You know I know what I'm doing. It just seems to me that I've spoiled the princess a little too much lately." He lowers his head to your thighs, and litters soft kisses as he makes himself comfortable again. Somewhere along the lines, the harsh hold you had on his hair turned into your hand dragging him closer, but you can't pinpoint the exact moment.

Or you just really don't care to know, not when Jake starts lapping up at your cunt like he's starving.

"You taste so delicious, baby," he moans between licks, his nose pressing further into your heat with every movement of his. "So much better than any medicine. Fuck—you're gonna be my little cure from now on. Every time I'm sick, I'll just let you open your legs for me. You'd let me, baby. Wouldn't you?"

You nod vehemently, before realizing he can't see you. "Yes, please use me," you moan, spreading your thighs as far as you can while pushing his head closer to you, even when it's almost physically impossible for Jake to even breathe. Not that he would have it any other way.

The grip on his hair, the way you push and pull at it as if you have any command over the stimulation he's giving you, the way you sing for him with every flick of his tongue. It all makes Jake's head spin in the best way possible, his cock stiff again in his pants and throbbing against the very fabric he ruined with his cum only minutes before.

He grunts and moans into you, like he's the one being pleasured, and it all adds to the magic Jake is working on you. The vibrations only aiding in inching you closer to the second orgasm of the day.

"Jake, I'm close, please."

You don't need to say anything else, because he parts from your cunt for a single second. Just enough to let a gobble of his spit drip down right on your engorged clit, coating it in more shiny essence.

You're about the complain about the lack of stimulation, but he dives right back in, licking a singular stripe from your poor mess a of hole upwards. He can taste the remains of the syrup in his own spit still, and paired with the straight up divine taste of your own slick, Jake thinks he might be in heaven.

"So sweet, baby. So fucking sweet. It's like you want me to never stop fucking you with my tongue." He catches your little bundle of nerves between his raw lips, already wet with spit, suckling on it like he's trying to coax even more wetness out of you. He swirls his tongue around it, his eyebrows furrowing in both pleasure and concentration as he keeps toying and prodding at every single part of your pussy.

You're so unbelievably close to coming undone, every passing second just bringing you closer to the brink. All it takes to send you over the edge is Jake moaning with your numb right in his mouth, the small vibrations from it all you needed for the searing white feeling to envelop you completely, the familiar silent yet still deafening tingly sensation spreading from your core to all the limbs in your body.

Jake keeps lapping up all your generous body gives him, thankful for it all and careful not to let a single drop go to waste.

Your arm is thrown over your eyes as you catch your breath, this second orgasm completely emptying you of whatever energy you had left. Usually you would offer Jake to help him out as a little thank you, even though he told you time and time again that it wasn't needed and pleasing you what was got him off in the first place.

But as much as you denied it initially, the fever did take a toll on you, more than you would like to admit. So any further activity would have to wait.

"Yummy." Jake comes up from below you, drying the bottom half of his face with the back of his hand. Even if you're tired and spent, the comment is enough to make you remove your arm from your eyes just so you can give him a well deserved death stare.

He gets up from the bed, disappearing for a few seconds into the bathroom. "What's with that look? No 'thank you Jake, you're the best?'"

When you don't reply, far too weakened to even try to banter with your boyfriend, he walks back into the room with a towel and a worried look etched on his gorgeous features.

He gets on the bed again, careful not to move your body more than necessary, and starts cleaning you up with the gentlest touch you've ever felt him use. "Did i tire you out too much? You're still sick—"

"You were great. Don't worry," you stop his train of thoughts you knew you wouldn't hear the end of if you let him go on for any longer. "I just need a nap, then I'll be as good as new."

The tension in Jake's shoulders only disappears once you smile at him, his own face morphing to match your own. It's one of your favorite things about him, how he's so careful and attentive to every hint and feeling on your face, he ends up mirroring them without even noticing.

He runs his hands soothingly all over your skin as he resumes cleaning you up, the room falling into a peaceful silence.

You almost fall asleep, but you should've known Sim Jake shutting up for once was far too good to be true.

"Look at the mess you made though. This is enough to start an entire pharmacy."

#✷ mortal works #jake smut #jake x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enha smut #sim jaeyun smut #enhypen hard hours

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mwphisto · 2 months ago

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Sylus: Sunscreen and Salty Kisses

~ Written for @blessdunrest! Hope you enjoy, thank you for requesting!

~ Sylus x Reader fluff! Not beta read, please ignore any errors I go blind writing these

Warning, this post contains: tooth rotting fluff, domestic Sylus and MC doing their thing out in the sun even tho the sun be killing that man's eyes lmao, anything for his wife. Also a little bit of banter, I'd like to think these to crack dirty jokes / innuendos here and there lol. Kisses, giggling, playing in the water, cute cute cute!! Def took some inspiration from his level 70 secret times card hehe.

"Let me put some sunscreen on you, Sy."

You had convinced your lover to go on a beach date - well, it was Sylus. He didn't need all that much convincing if the plans had anything to do with you. "I'll be fine, I tan."

"Nuh uh, mister. You may tan but that doesn't mean you can't get skin cancer." Your lips formed a pout, arms crossing with the bottle of sunscreen clutched in one hand. "Plus..." You sing softly, smiling as if you were about to give him an offer he couldn't refuse.

"...I'll let you put sunscreen on me afterwards." Oh, okay. Well you did go and offer him something he couldn't possibly turn down. Setting the towels on the sand, Sylus collapsed under the umbrella with a sigh. "Well, kitten. When you put it like that I suppose I can't say no."

A content sigh leaves your lips as you kneel beside him. Settling comfortably beside him on the town, you pop the lid of the squeeze bottle and get a considerable amount on your palm.

"It'll be a little cold." you dropped the bottle beside you, smiling as Sylus looked at you. His arms were up, folded behind his head and somehow making the muscles of his torso look bigger. "I'll be alright, it's hot out anyways. I could use something cool."

You got to work, rubbing lotion into Sylus' skin much like how a kitten would knead something soft. Somewhere in the back of your mind you wanted to laugh, you'd never beat the kitten allegations at this rate. Maybe you didn't even want to, the nickname had some truth.

Once you were thoroughly satisfied with your work, you motioned for Sylus to sit up. "Gotta get your back and your face, then you can do me." You caught the small quirk of his lips at your wording, snorting as you smack his shoulder. "Don't be filthy, Sylus."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Kitten." That comfortable silence fell over you both again, your fingers running along the dips and curves of his back as you spread the lotion around.

The waves crashing on the shore were comforting, beckoning you to go play in them. You wondered how much convincing it would take to get him down in the water with you, surely he'd do it for you, right?

"Back is done, mister. Now we gotta protect that handsome face." You move around him, settling on his lap as you push the sunglasses up and into his hair. "Close your eyes, please."

Your noses nearly brush, carmine eyes observing your face with such reverence you feel a blush creeping up your ears. He closes them with a little hesitance, as if he didn't want to stop taking you in. Though, now with his eyes shut, you could admire him in the same fashion. That pesky eye, however, would always give you away.

You were careful with your movements, spreading sunscreen along his cheeks and nose, rubbing it in with practiced gentleness. You sealed the deal with a quick peck on the lips, smiling as you pulled back to whisper all done. His eyes blink open a second later, lips curving in a smile as he takes the lotion bottle.

"Your turn, Miss hunter. Can't have you catching no harmful rays either." You're giggling, shutting your eyes as he begins spreading the sunscreen across your face just like you had done to him seconds before. Sylus took his time with you - not too much because he knew how much you wanted to get into the water - but enough to insure that every inch of exposed skin as properly protected.

"Alright, kitten. I'd say the sun isn't harming you today." The bottle cap is clicked shut and you're a little reluctant to get off of his lap. "Thank you very much, Mr. Sylus." You kiss his nose as a thank you, getting up before he can chase your lips. "First to get to the water wins, no evol allowed!" You're giggling as you spin to run.

"Playing dirty, Miss Hunter!" but your feet are already hitting the hot sand, laughter bubbling from your chest as you head straight for the ocean. You couldn't even recall where he had whisked you off too, but the private beach had the bluest water you'd ever seen.

You glanced back over your shoulder for a moment, just to see Sylus running after you. A child-like giddiness filled your chest, laughter uncontrollable as your feet hit the waves first. "I win!"

You turn around, the waves crashing into the backs of your claves to see Sylus was still heading straight for you. An excited sort of panic filled you, a warning hey! squealing past your lips as Sylus grabbed you in strong arms. You were lifted, laughing like a love sick fool as he sloshed into deeper water. "You may have won but..."

You cling to him, a vague idea of where he was going with this entering your mind. "Sylus don't you dare-" but he's already falling backwards, your arms and legs wrapping around him like a koala bear as he drags you under the water with him.

You both resurface a moment later, a deep, rich laughter vibrating Sylus' chest as you push your sopping wet hair out of your face. "That wasn't fair!!" You nearly yell in his face, laughing just as hard as he is. "You never said anything about playing fair." There is a boyish grin plastered to his face, his eyes lit with mischief.

"And here I was, ready to give the loser a kiss to soften the blow." Your lips form a mock pout, watching as his eyes widen a little in response. "Well now, we don't have to be hasty with our decisions."

Large hands are splayed across your skin below the water, holding your thighs as you keep yourself glued to him.

"I dunno, don't think you deserve a kiss after attempting to drown me." But you can't keep up the facade, a smile curling your lips as you bring your hands up to hold his face. "Nobody was trying to drown anybody, now about that kiss..." His eyes linger on your lips before peering back into your eyes. Damn him, you're such a sucker.

"Fine, I suppose." And you're leaning in, nose brushing his as you tilt your head a little and seal your lips together. The kiss is warm, tasting like the strawberries you had fed him while also cutting them up to bring to the beach. There was a saltiness to it, likely from the water you two had just dove under, and the scent of sunscreen lingered.

You pull away first, giggling as he chases your lips. Barely a breath of air is sucked into your lungs before he's on you again. The kisses searing yet rapid fire, so totally him.

You'd never want anything different, the waves rocking your bodies as you melted into each other. You had an entire summer to look forward to, and many more beach dates to come.

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aakeysmash · 2 months ago

Note

I just saw something about Sukuna wearing glasses and I was just thinking yeah he definitely does and its definitely like the reading glasses kind and when he needs to like at y/n or something he does that thing where he lowers his glasses😭💔 (both au’s kinda except maybe in the college au he wears like actual glasses sometimes and it's like the big frame kind) just a thought tho!

film night and glasses

college!sukuna’s masterlist

You find out one random evening.

It’s just you two because Yuuji stayed over at Megumi’s last-minute, but you already planned on having a film night today. You’re preparing snacks and he’s next to you, in charge of the drinks, grumbling about how he could be sleeping or finishing his macros for the day or literally doing anything else right now.

“Go away then. If you don’t care about the whole dorm knowing you own a pair of bubblegum pink boxers with ‘baby boy’ written on your ass, that is,” you nonchalantly shrug, not able to contain an evil smirk.

“Fuck you, bitch,” he grunts, rolling his eyes. “I already told you everything else was in the washing machine and that those were a fuckin’ gift from the team,” he adds, squinting at your head, wishing his eyes could burn flesh.

“And I already told you I don’t care. Next time don’t come out of your room not wearing anything else beside those,” you sing, walking across the living room and putting down a bowl of popcorn.

“I’m spiking your drink,” he deadpans, following you with two glasses of alcohol-free mojito (he says you’re obnoxious when drunk, so he’s ‘protecting his patience’).

You whistle. “You want me in your bed that bad, baby boy?” You say seductively, doing a come here motion with your index finger. He lifts a corner of his mouth, disgusted, then puts down your drinks near the popcorn bowl.

“Maybe I should just strangle you,” he mumbles while you turn off the lights, giggling.

“What are we watching?” He sighs, resigned, plopping down on the sofa and scooting a little bit over to make space for you.

“Can’t you see the title on the TV?” You respond, raising one eyebrow while pit-patting over to him. He grunts as an answer. You get your feet up and he automatically lifts them on his thighs, rubbing little circles on your ankles. None of you seem bothered by how easily you fall in the position.

15 minutes into the film and you see he keeps on squinting at the TV. You initially shrug it off, but he keeps on doing it for another ten minutes.

“Yo, do you need glasses?” You say, munching on your popcorns. You finish the drink while waiting for his answer. It’s good. He’d be a great barman.

“Yeah,” he says casually, not even turning around to watch you, reaching for the bowl now resting on your stomach. You choke.

“If you die, I’m taking your room,” he says, glancing over, not moving a muscle to help you. You glare at him. You keep on coughing though, so he reluctantly starts to pat your back while rolling his eyes.

“Thanks,” you croak when you get better, wiping tears from the corner of your eyes.

“I’m always saving your dumb ass anyway,” he grunts, but he doesn’t move his hand from your back for some time, and he nods at his drink, currently in his hand and under your nose, so you can drink it.

“You wear glasses?!” You exclaim, voice still rough. Meanwhile, the film is still playing in the background, but your gaze is fixed on his side profile. Flashes of colors dance on his skin, illuminating his relaxed face.

“I don’t. I should,” he shrugs, not turning around to look you in the eye. “Only when I’m tired”.

“Can I please see you with them?!” You clap, changing position and getting on your knees on the couch’s cushion. He brings the arm closer to you on the back of the couch, slowly dragging his gaze on your expectant face.

“Hell no.”

“But whyyy,” you whine. You see a corner of his mouth lifting lazily.

“Don’t want you to die when you see how hot I am with them, baby,” he winks.

You throw a pillow at his face.

#college au #sukuna fluff #sukuna ryomen x reader #jujutsu sukuna #sukuna jjk #sukuna ryomen fluff #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna fic #ryomen sukuna fluff

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unluckilyimnot · 4 months ago

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Could you please do a the bofurin boys (especially sugishita) with a reader who's nonverbal with everyone except them?

no verbal s/o except with them - suo, sakura, kaji, sugishita, kiryuu, umemiya

asked by @lost-in-thought-bookworm

Note: hiiii it’s been such a long time I haven't written with them, I’m happy ! i hope it's not bad tho, I'm rarely going non-verbal myself so I hope it's ok

Suo

he teased you at first, saying you were very shy to not even say a word

but when he realized it’s with literally with everyone and that people still interacted fine with you, he got protective around you

if anyone mess with you, they mess with him as well

He knows it immediately when there's something wrong with you, because you're rarely silent around him. He's never obvious about it, gently guiding you where there's less people and keeping you close. You can feel his fingers slowly brushing on the back of your hand.

“What is it ?” his voice is sweet but commanding, letting you know that you're not moving before he hears about it. Taking your phone out, you're stopped in your motion by his hand and he's shaking his head.

“I want you to tell me,” he asked furthermore, his face closer to yours now, his nose only a few centimeters away from yours.

“I'm tired,” you whispered, after a moment and collecting your strength. “I wanna go home.”

You're rewarded with a soft smile, not the kind of silly smile he gives to most people and kiss your nose. “Then we're leaving.”

Kiryuu

he’s so happy when you first start talking with him, it’s an understatement, and he doesn’t hide it

you’re his favorite person to talk with and fixate on your voice

shopping got ten times easier and he’s here for it

“Look ! This one would look so nice on Sakura, don't you think?” Nirei pointed out a shirt while looking at you with big eyes, waiting for you to nod vividly because you usually agree with him. Not this time though. You were out in a store with him and Sakura, waiting for Suo and Kiryuu to come back after they spent some time at the tea’s store. Pointing a particular color on the shirt, you then point at Sakura and make a cross with your arms, signaling them that this color was a no-no for him.

It was hard to make them understand sometimes, and based on the face Sakura made you were sure he was lost. Before you could take out your phone, the boys came back and Kiryuu passed an arm around your shoulders lazily. “What is it ?”

Nirei asked them what they thought and, just like you thought, Kiryuu agreed with you. “This color is awful for him, no offense,” said Kiryuu, hoping that Sakura wouldn’t take it harshly.

“Right ?!” you shouted, smiling his way.

“It's so much easier when you’re there, Kiryuu,” whined Nirei, not that he hates to go out with you without him. You still type angrily on our phone, ‘you didn’t leave me anytime !’ it showed with your frown, making them laugh.

Sakura

he’s taken aback because why wouldn’t you talk ?

But he’s sure you didn’t have it easy to be like that so he’s very gentle and patient with you

he talks for you anytime you need

You always get a weird look when the waiter turns to you for your order but Sakura places it for you, that’s something you don’t really get used to. You can’t blame them, they just saw you talking with him but never talk to them or anyone else around the table – if it isn’t just the two of you. Sakura never seems to mind though, well he’s used to being looked at weirdly too.

“You alright ?” You blink a few times at the question before nodding energetically, but he’s sending you a suspicious look already. “Don’t worry about that, it’ll never change anyway,” he shrugged before going on about last night's event at his school. He goes on for a few minutes, waiting for your answers with a close eye. He's rarely disappointed but when you suddenly look down like that, he's extra careful, just in case you need anything.

Kaji

he doesn’t hear anyway so it didn’t really matter at first

your friendship was easy thanks to that

but he loves that you talk to him now, it means you trust him enough

Your eyes always light up when you see him coming, it’s like you’re waiting for him all day just to catch a glimpse of him – and he still doesn't know how he feels about it. He takes his headset off, and he knows he’s gonna hear about your day until he walks you home. Giving you a lollipop as well, you tuck your arm with him as you two walk out of the school to nowhere in particular. One hand holding your phone while the other holds the lollipop, just so you can still talk with everyone.

It always gets him how annoying it might be to talk with him but type for his friends when they ask anything, you could just act like you were talking with him ; but that wouldn’t be welcome from him who spends half of his time with music blasting in his ears. He knows it’s not that easy, but he’s still happy that you answer them and not make any discussion only about you two when they’re around. Plus, it's a little too obvious how happy they are to have you around, hearing you talk even if it’s never to them. He wants all his favorite people to get along.

Sugishita

no need to say that you’re more than compassionate and understand his situation

it took time for you to open up and talk to him, even if he doesn’t always answer

it’s so comfortable for him

He’s not much about talking either, so he never minded at first when it wasn’t really a thing. Then, even when you started talking only with him, it didn’t seem so out of place. He understands it the best, he gets what’s going on in your mind. Hearing your voice isn’t really special anymore, it’s part of his routine and he likes it better that way – why wouldn’t he love hearing your voice when he loves you so much ?

Mostly, he loves how you can formulate your thoughts despite not doing it much. Deep conversations with you are the best, he likes how well you can formulate your thoughts despite not doing it much or with everyone. It’s hard for him, but he’ll gladly listen to you talk all you want, since it’s specific to him. It’s comfortable, even if you’re not really related to Umemiya – it helps him trust others.

Umemiya

never ever mentioned it, it never mattered to him

he wants you to take your time and talk when you feel safe or feel like it’s the time

even if it never comes

He can't get it out of his head, you actually telling him goodnight yesterday. You stayed a while longer on the rooftop with him, talking about life and anything that comes to his mind until late. You didn't simply waved at him, you told him goodbye. It was the first time he heard your voice and, if he wasn't sure how precious you already were for him, now he's sure.

He doesn't get carried away anyway, maybe it was a one time thing – which was fine. Deep down, he can't wait to see you, just to see if you’ll talk to him or not. His heart flutters when he sees you making your way to him with Toma on the rooftop. You're typing on your phone, showing him quickly before you smile with a nod at his answer. You turn his way once closer and wave at him.

“Hi, Ume,” you say softly. A small gasp can be heard but nobody mentions it otherwise. He swears his heart was beating a second ago. He smiles at you, holding back from crushing you in his arms.

After that, it became normal to hear you talk around Umemiya. You never answer without your phone to others, even next to him, but your soft whispers can always be heard – to everyone's pleasure. And for Umemiya, it's a victory. It got him holding his breath every time, full of joy to see you this comfortable with him.

Let me know if you liked it !

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imnotshua · 5 months ago

Text

joke me something awful - jww

٠࣪⭑ pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem reader ٠࣪⭑ summary: it's 2002 and you ask wonwoo to take you home. later, he wonders why you haven't been doing this the whole time. ٠࣪⭑ genre: childhood friends to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, college au ٠࣪⭑ rating: explicit. minors do not interact with me, i'll block you. ٠࣪⭑ warnings: swearing, drinking, undefined relationships. not really a situationship tho, it’s very much mutual pining. reader and wonwoo are just stupid regular people who say and do stupid things, it is intentional, please love them anyway. wonwoo is down bad i'm so sorry friends, he is just!!!!!! occasional use of pet names (baby & angel from wonwoo. darling/sweetheart from others), no use of y/n or other variations, porn with plot mostly, ambiguous ending (sorry my beloveds). wonwoo could do with some more confidence ig. a bitter ex (oc) is mentioned and important for the plot! mentions of previous hook ups between wonwoo and reader. toxicity from the ex, but i don’t particularly think reader and wonu are! they just :(((((( feel free to correct me tho. ٠࣪⭑ smut contents: gendered terms, kisses, fingering (pussy + mouths), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (it's 2002 college students were stupid then ok), dry humping lmao, cum eating, wonwoo on top, cum in pants, sloppy kinda, wet patches <3, soooo much hand holding, morning sex, neediness <333333, all in all they are quite soft and disgustingly into each other. if you think i've forgotten anything please let me know so i can fix my post! ٠࣪⭑ wc: 5.4k - complete ٠࣪⭑ a/n: i listened to fob's from under the cork tree on repeat for like 2 weeks straight and needed to do something with the feelings in my chest. this universe started in a different work that i'll post another time, this is the before. it is complete on its own, can be read without the others, but please note that future fics for this couple will be non-linear and feature different stages of their lives. the title comes from Fall Out Boys I've Got A Dark Alley–. Please consider listening to Air - Yeji, it's the feeling this couple gives me. ٠࣪⭑ thank yous: to my loves, @100vern and @starlightkyeom– thank you for putting up with my screaming over wonwoo, thank u for reading this over and telling me it wasn't gross. to jewel again, thank you for the banner. i appreciate u both so much. to everyone else, thank you for coming to my little corner, i hope you enjoy this one.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

2002

Wonwoo didn’t apply for the fellowship program, despite all your insistence that if you got in he’d be sure to, that he’s smarter than you’ll ever be. At the time he said it felt like too much work, but later he realised he couldn’t take the fear of rejection. This would’ve just been another failed start. Deep down he wondered if he’d even deserve it.

The celebratory dinner for new scholars is supposedly an elitist, snobby, and frankly, horrid affair so naturally you’re going. If only to foster those connections you’re making for your future career. Wonwoo turns his nose up but he agrees to be your date nonetheless. You don’t have to beg, just ask the question and say he wouldn’t embarrass you like the man you’ve been dating for four months, and that fills him with some strange sense of achievement.

Of course, once that guy hears you’re taking Wonwoo instead of him, he dumps you without ceremony. And now Wonwoo sits on your bed in a rented suit far too expensive for him to feel entirely comfortable in, watching your reflection choose which earrings to wear, and he wonders if you’re even bothered. He doesn’t know how to talk to you about this. Partners are off limits, usually, but since he had some involvement in the break up, in some roundabout way, he thinks maybe he should at least check. He wets his lips.

“How are you feeling?” he asks. “Since Hongseok?”

You meet his eyes in the mirror. “Fine,” you say. “I don’t think it was going anywhere. He wanted something more traditional. I started to get the impression he was setting up to cheat on me, actually.”

Wonwoo is unsurprised, sounds like you are too. “You’re better off without him,” he says, picking at bits of fluff from your blanket clinging to his trousers. It’s one his mother knitted for your sixteenth birthday. “You’ll meet someone new in no time.”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” you start. “I think I’ll stay single for a while.”

Wonwoo lifts his eyebrows in surprise and you catch him in the mirror. With a laugh you say, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“You’ve been a serial dater since we moved to this city and you’re stopping now?” Wonwoo’s lips twist into a grin. Teasing is easier than edging too close to real. “Just when you’ve hit your prime?”

You scoff. “Rude. I’ll hit my prime in my thirties. Just watch.”

Wonwoo watches as you apply your usual lipstick and thinks about the time you didn’t wear any. You were just kids but it didn’t seem so long ago. You’re almost the same. Eighteen years of your starkly different lives intertwined and somehow still as close as you ever were. Still the sharpest person he’s ever known, still the sweetest if only in private. Still his parents' favourite person, still his. (His stomach twists).

You’re giving yourself a final appraisal in the mirror before turning to Wonwoo and asking how you look.

“Good,” he says, with a nod. Breathtaking, really. “Pretty.”

“Thanks,” you say, smiling relieved, moving to sit next to him on the bed and linking his arm. “We scrub up well, don’t we?”

“Mm,” he agrees, following your gaze into the mirror, pinpricks creeping over his skin. You look like you’re together, he thinks, as he notices you’ve chosen earrings that go with his tie. Anyone could make that assumption.

“You look sad, Wonwoo,” you say, quiet and soft. “Are you sad?”

“No,” he says, throat tight and feeling like his back is pressed against the wall. “What would I have to be sad about?” He lets you slip your hand into his, lets you lean your head on his shoulder for a moment, because this is how you make him feel better. Because you know that he can’t be pushed to talk about things he hardly understands. Barely a minute goes by before he sucks in a breath and says, “Shall I call us a taxi?”

“Sure, number’s in the book next to the telephone,” you say. “Want a drink? I need one for this.”

“Water for me, someone’s got to get you home.”

“Aw, come on. Don’t make me drink alone.” You laugh when Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “I’ll be on my best behaviour, I promise. My reputation’s on the line.”

“One beer,” he offers. You pout and he can’t stop his smile.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It went like this:

Both of you had no less than three drinks before the taxi showed up.

Your peers kept thinking that he was your “elusive boyfriend” and upon correction that he was ‘just Wonwoo’ their eyes lit up and exclaimed “oh we’ve heard so much about you!”

The way he blushed made you want to kiss him silly (you had another drink instead).

Drink five? Four? Everyone here is obliterated, no one notices you and Wonwoo readying to leave.

He looks so pretty like this, tie undone, glasses slipping down his nose, pulling off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders, watching your lips as you talk.

The taxi you pre booked won’t be here for another ten minutes but the room was so stuffy (in both the literal and figurative sense) that as soon as you tell Wonwoo you need to get out of there, he’s nodding and pulling you out into the street. It’s so busy– of course, it’s OT week– that you struggle to find a spot where you won’t be bumped into for a while, eventually settling against the wall of the building opposite, in good view of the road. The noise around you is hectic, and you’re desperate for something less bothersome. Wonwoo looks drunk, looks fucked out. Cheeks flushed and lips parted. Eyes closed, he tips his head back against the brick and exposes the column of his throat. Pretty.

“Hey,” you say, slipping your arms around his waist. “Thanks for coming with me.”

Wonwoo hums. “Yeah, ‘course.” A pause– he wraps his arms around your shoulders. He’s so heavy but you like how it feels. “Anything for you.”

There’s a saccharine sweetness stirring in your stomach. You ask him to tell you the story of Baucis and Philemon again, press your body against his and hope he can still read you like he used to. It’s been years. Maybe he won’t want to.

“Why do you like that one so much?” he asks. You take in the smell of his soap. You know you shouldn’t want to go down this road again. “It’s hardly even a love story.”

“They’re the ultimate love story,” you insist, looking up at your friend to find him already watching you. “They’re precious to each other. I want that kind of love.”

It’s more than that. Baucis and Philemon have a timeless love. Their lightness oozes out of them, their love is both infectious and tender. So devoted they choose to die together. Never without the other even after they’re gone– turned to trees, and their branches and roots weave together so tightly that you can’t tell where either one of them starts and they stay like that, as relics of a lost ancient world.

There is something ancient about Wonwoo, too. For as long as you can remember he has been older than his years, telling stories of places long buried, of deities forgotten about. You think maybe he was meant for then and not now, the cusp of the twenty-first century. He keeps echoes within him. Carries heavy stones to turn over in his hands and spend time memorising the marks. He is deliberate in the way he moves, no ill-perceived rush, and Wonwoo’s silence carries more weight than his words.

So when his eyes flicker to your lips again, and he still doesn’t move, you know it’s on you. You know you’re going to have to be the one to shift the sands, change the direction of the tide. You’ve been lovers before. Neither of you have ever said never.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He’d been thinking about it all night but you were the one to press your lips against the corner of his mouth, eyes on his and holding the proximity. Are you thinking about it like he is? Is your heart thrumming in your chest like his?

“I can feel you thinking.”

“Uh huh.” His mouth goes dry. He can’t kiss you with a sandpaper tongue.

You run a finger between two buttons on his shirt, eyes up, watching his reaction. “Can I stay at your place tonight? Hansol’s at his parents' house this weekend, right?”

Wonwoo’s mind goes blank and he can feel the pink creep over his cheeks. “Did you squeeze your Pompompurin pyjamas in that little bag?”

Your lips twitch in an almost smile, lean in to ghost a kiss against his bottom lip. Wait to see if he pulls back– he doesn’t. His hands just slip down your back, touching the skin under the strap of your dress. Didn’t imagine when he helped you zip up earlier that he’d be the one invited to pull it off you. Has he hidden his desire so poorly? “Do you wanna fuck me in those pyjamas, Wonwoo?”

The street noise is drowned out when you kiss him properly, and it’s embarrassing the way he’s breathless, gripping at your waist and pulling your body closer. Humiliating that this is in full view of strangers, doesn’t want them to see how you lick into his mouth, doesn’t want them to hear your sharp gasp as his teeth drag over your bottom lip. He spins you on the spot, crowds you against the brick and blocks out the world with his shoulders. You pull on a button and slip your hand through the gap. The touch burns. Your kisses are suffocating, loves the way you smile into it, the way you make him chase your lips, run your fingers along the waistband of his trousers an– fuck– he’s gonna get hard in the middle of the street.

Desperate, he pulls off you and whips his head around to look for the taxi, you’re already complaining. “Not here–,” he says, words rasped, catching in his throat. He can see the taxi rounding the corner, and in a beat he’s pushing off the wall and dragging you toward it by the hand.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He doesn’t touch you in the taxi. Hopes you know it’s not because he didn’t want to, he just doesn’t want to lose himself. His fingers flex eager on the leather seats, wanting something he won’t take. As the driver fiddles with the radio, you lean over to lay your hand across his, to whisper in his ear, “do you still lick your fingers after you’ve made someone come on them?” Wonwoo doesn’t answer, but he can feel the way you watch him swallow– thick– and stare hard out the window at the passing lights. He never did that with anyone but you.

Now you’re paying for it. He’s more confident in the privacy of his bedroom, in the dark. Cages you in his bed, doesn’t bother to turn on the lights before smothering you with his body. Your mouth on his– wet, and eager, and bruising. His hands move to your face, in your hair, angling your head to give his lips access to the tender spot behind your ear. He’s got your dress bunched up around your waist. Takes up all the space between your legs, still too much fabric separating you. One of Wonwoo’s hands cast over the swell of your breast, his thumb tracing circles over your nipple through the thin fabric. You melt into the touch, rolling your hips against him, he sighs into your skin. “Can feel how hard you are,” you gasp, hands pulling at his hair. Makes his skin electric.

He moves faster, desperate, and you trap his body between your legs, angle your hips so his cock can rub against your clothed cunt just right. “Gonna ruin your trousers,” you whisper. Yeah yeah yeah, fuck it, he’ll pay for dry cleaning for once. The warmth, the wet, seeping through makes him insane. Needs it more than ever, needs you just like this, breath ragged and pupils blown. Needs you needing him so bad you can’t even get out of your clothes before you come. Needs you whining, needs you telling him how badly you want it. Won’t ask for anything, but you know what he likes. It’s always been easy with you.

“Feels good,” you say. Wonwoo nods into your neck, the pressure building so fast it’s blinding. Hips thrusting rough, rutting like an animal against your clit, desperate for you to get off before he falls apart but he’s so cl–”Missed you so much, Wonwoo.”

“Ah, fu- fuck–” You’re sucking a mark into his neck and Wonwoo can’t stop. Comes hard, breath catching and his rhythm is all fucked up, so fucking embarrased that he couldn’t draw this out. You’re talking him through it– sounds like heaven whispering how good he is, how good this feels, how you love how he sounds when he forgets himself. Didn’t realise he was groaning. A mess of a person reflected in the cum staining through the fabric of this horribly expensive rental.

Shit.

Needs to get out of this fucking suit. Needs to press his face into your cunt. Wants to ruin you for everyone else. Four years– you wasted four years with other people when you could’ve been doing this. Pushes away thoughts of you being someone else's not even a week ago. Some sick, possessive slice of him wants to reclaim you, mark you up and present you as his to the world. Wants to take the cum in his underwear and push it into your body. Look, see, she’s mine mine mine. Wonwoo’s chest aches.

Your clothes shed in silence. You lay him back against the pillows, kneeling next to him with spread legs, he loves when you let him see. You take one of his hands in yours and work circles into his palm as you pull two of his fingers into your mouth. Get them slick with spit, work your tongue over the tips of his fingers. He can hardly breathe watching you manoeuvre his hand down your body against your cunt, using him like a toy, until his remaining brain cells start to work and he takes over the movement. He’s half hard again already.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he rasps. Crooks his fingers and you whine. Wants to eat the sounds spilling from your lips. Needs to do something with his mouth so he doesn’t say something stupid. “Sit on my face?” he asks, obvious urgency in his voice.

“N-no, like this first,” you say, almost like you’re begging. “Missed your hands so much.”

You look at him through hazy eyes as he works you quickly to the edge, pulling whimpers from your throat every time he plays with your clit. Feels you get impossibly wet when he slips his fingers in deep and moans unashamed along with you. You buck into his palm, head tipping forward to watch his soaked long fingers fucking into you agonisingly slow. Your breath stutters in your throat as he uses his other hand to tease your skin, trailing gently over the meat of your thigh, your ribs, cupping your breast and then dragging you over him to take a nipple in his mouth. Flicks his wet tongue over until it pebbles between his teeth, and you gasp.

“M’close already,” you whisper. “Gonna come, Wonwoo.” He ruts his hard cock into the air, chasing heat that isn’t there. Fucking loser. You don’t even notice with the way he’s got your breaths coming in fragments. You come undone like lightning, cunt soaking and pulsing around his fingers, your body collapses on top of him, your forehead pressed into his chest. Wonwoo wants a taste but wants to work you through the aftershocks first. He teases slow circles over your clit until you fall apart with a sob, and have to drag his hand out from between your legs.

He waits until you sag to your side– catches sight of your cheeks, flushed and sweat sticking to your skin, your pupils blown out and breathing shallow, more beautiful than he’s ever seen you– before he brings his fingers to his mouth to taste you on them.

“You’re indecent,” you laugh in disbelief. He almost feels gross until you’re babbling about how hot he is. How he makes you insane. You laugh again when he rolls you onto your back and settles between your legs. It’s been so long he needs to do this right. Starts by pressing a gentle kiss to your clit, ghosts more over your centre, waits for the sound of your gentle sigh before laving a thick stripe over you. Knows just the way to make you molten. He laps at your core until you’re almost sobbing. You jolt whenever his nose slips over your clit, and you’re begging for him to stop the tease. He’ll never deny you what you want. His tongue flicks fast over your clit, his face wet with you now. His moans sound muffled against your cunt when his name falls from your lips in staccato breaths.

Things have hardly changed. Four years and now, it’s just the fucking same. Your fingers still find purchase in his hair the same way. Mouths at your inner thighs to give your cunt a break. Shit, you’re so hot. You’re clenching around fucking nothing. Pulls the skin between his teeth and you’re writhing, trying to get his tongue back where you need it. Love when you get desperate like this.

Your nails drag over the nape of his neck and he’s close to losing control– fucks his cock against the mattress and almost cries at the pressure. You grind against his face, Wonwoo knows you’re close. Blacks out as he eats you like he’s been starving, his face so slick with spit and you it drips down his chin to the sheets. Doesn’t dare stop to breathe as he feels your legs begin to shudder over his shoulders. He watches the way you look down at him, brows pinched pleasure, waits for your lips to fall apart with a broken sob before licking into you so deep. He can’t tell who comes first, can’t tell who the enormous wet patch on the mattress belongs to, doesn’t fucking care, just wants to keep you.

He moves over you when you’re done, pressing chaste kisses to the corner of your mouth, to your cheeks, to your temple, before you’re giggling and pulling his body next to yours.

“Shift over,” he says, tapping at your hip. “Don’t wanna sleep in the wet patch.”

“Did you come again?” you ask, moving to the side to give him space.

Wonwoo nods, cheeks instantly flushing with heat. But there’s no need for embarrassment because you’re sucking in a breath. Seriously, you say “You have no idea how much I like that.”

He doesn’t reply, just fits his body against yours and presses a kiss to your shoulder. Lets your words wash over him. Sleep comes for him quicker than he wants it, but not before he slides his hand into yours, not before telling you he missed you too.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Mascara stains Wonwoo’s pillowcase but right now he doesn’t care. It’s still too early, still dark outside, but this room is hot, his breath is hot, your leg thrown over his waist is hot, and he’s considering just how monumental this is. It’s been almost four years since you touched him like this. In school it started with a ‘one kiss won’t ruin us’ and ended just before university with a ‘are we still friends?’ Way back then you both swore blind that you could just go back to your regular scheduled programming and nothing had to change. An agreement that those brief months you had (not quite) together in high school were just two best friends helping each other out. A mutual understanding that the love you share is completely and utterly platonic, and platonic friends can totally kiss/touch/fuck for a few months without it ruining something more special than sex. Except he didn’t really mean it. The trouble was that Wonwoo knew even then that he wanted something all consuming. Felt it with you. Wasn’t sure if you wanted the same.

Wonwoo is absolutely not spiralling.

You’re still sound asleep (always are after nights like the last), and his arm is trapped. Back then he’d use this time to bask in you. With you wrapped up in him it was easy to feel like you were completely his. He used to feel like he could do anything to you, and you’d let him. You’d want it, even. Didn’t actually want to take you over but knowing that he could– the intensity of that scared him. Now that feeling doesn’t come, maybe because you’ve had the separation of time and different lovers, he doesn’t know really. He still doesn’t understand what happened before university. Doesn’t get why you stopped coming over when he was so close to unbottling the feelings in his chest. Just knows that the conversation took him by surprise even after a week of distance. Just knows how his chest ached even as he agreed that it’d be sensible to put it all to bed before leaving your sleepy town for the big city. Knows how his gut twisted sharp when you said that just because you were going together didn’t mean you should go together. Maybe he should’ve protested then, showed you how much he needed you. Impossibilities stretch out before him– if it went that way, last night wouldn’t have happened, he wouldn’t be tracing tiny figures of eight on the small of your back right now. If you’d been together then, young and stupid, would you have stood the test of time?

You stir, half roused, and Wonwoo swallows the lump in his throat, choosing to be grateful for the now. He pulls your waist closer, runs his hand under your thigh to gently adjust the weight. Your eyes are still closed but you make a soft sound of surprise.

“What time is it?” you ask, voice thick with sleep.

“Too early,” he whispers back. “Go back to sleep.”

“I was dreaming,” you murmur.

“What about?”

Your smile is lazy against his skin. “Can’t tell you,” you say. “You’d run away.”

Wonwoo thinks hard about this. “I don’t run away,” he says, quiet and serious.

You blink open soft eyes to look at him, and Wonwoo feels too much. “Your face is all frozen, Wonwoo,” you say, gentle. “Are you okay?”

“Kiss me. Wish me good morning.” Wonwoo’s voice comes out with more edge than he intends. Doesn’t sound like his own. Feels cheap, something sleazy. Feels tragically guilty about it until he sees the look on your face. Like you want to eat him.

Your gaze is dark when you lock eyes with him. Push up with your hands, straddling his hips, his cock against your rear. You take his hands, larger than yours, place them on your ribcage, push them down down down, making goosebumps pebble along in his wake, until he’s using his thumbs to spread you apart. A little wet already, leaves a slick mark on his skin. He sighs at the sight of it. Your breath comes harder when he plays with your clit. You lean over, say– “Good morning, Wonwoo.” Press a delicate kiss to his top lip. “You’re gonna come inside me this time, okay?”

Wonwoo isn’t religious, but he feels like angels made you for him. Tells you so, and you gasp against his mouth. The way you kiss him this time is anything but angelic. Wet. Messy. Sharp teeth leaving imprints on his lips. It hurts. Nice in a way it shouldn’t be. A relief– the way the hurt makes his mind stop. You roll your hips against him and he makes a desperate sort of noise. Keeps his eyes focused on his fingers drawing circles on your clit. Your hands reach behind you to stroke his hardening cock and he arches into your touch. “Needy,” you chastise. Wonwoo nods.

Doesn’t want it like this. Wants you under him, wants to fuck you slow. Tells you so, the words come anguished, almost– and you nod dumbly. You don’t drag out the build up. Lay on your back, open your legs for him, spread them wide and line his cock up with your wet heat so quick he doesn’t have time to overthink. He makes a strangled sound when he pushes inside. The slide is agonisingly slow. He’s being so careful, as if you’d crack like china - fragile beneath him. You clench around his cock, thick and scalding- God, it’s sweet torture. Wants more of it.

You pull, desperate, at his waist, rolling your hips against him but he’s pulling out. This time he just slides the head in, hisses, teases, and back out. He does it again, and again, doesn’t know who this teasing is for. He’s licking into your mouth, pressing hungry kisses on your open lips, eating up all your noises, your whines, your soft moans. Things are still the same. He likes going so so deep into you, bottoming out and grinding his skin against your clit, likes when your moan comes muffled in his open wet mouth. It’s the same. Likes when your hands find purchase in the sheets, fist them in desperation, likes when you feel it’s not enough so you grab at his, intertwine your fingers and let him fuck you like this. Like you’re in love. It’s still the same.

“How do you feel, angel?”

“Uh–” A pause to suck in a fractured breath.

“Tell me how you feel,” he says. Almost begging. Would be mortifying if he whispered that against anyone else’s cheek. Can feel the wetness there too.

“Homesick,” you gasp. “I feel homesick.”

He fucks you harder then, driving into you so deep he could be part of you. Melt in, blend together, blur the lines, weave the fucking branches. You’re full of spells, he thinks. Made of magic. Doesn’t realise until after that he’s said it aloud. Wet starshine eyes on his as you come apart, pussy pulsing around his cock, impossibly wet, telling him come with me baby, babbling nonsense about how you want it inside, how you need it so bad, how he makes you feel so good.

Wonwoo really looks at you before he comes. Takes a moment to commit your face to memory. Any time could be the last and he needs this– needs you– to stay with him. Doesn’t know if he’ll ever be the same.

“Like that, Wonwoo” you’re saying, all breathy and high-pitched as he spills into you with a choked whine. “Like when you–” Cum slips out around his cock and he gathers it up on his fingers. Pushes them into your mouth to stop you talking. Can’t bear it. Can’t bear the way your pupils blow out and you lick the cum from his fingers. Can’t stand how his name sounds in your mouth, sweeter, more precious, because there’s something like love coating it. God, he wants to be yours.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Wonwoo likes your apartment better. Likes the way your sheets start to smell like him too. You’ve always carved out space for him but this time it’s deeper. Likes showering with you here, not to fuck, just to wash away the mess you make of each other. Likes holding you in his arms under the stream, running the lather across your skin, loving kisses pressed against your forehead. Lately he stays here more often than he goes home.

You haven’t said the words yet, neither has he. Doesn’t want to push too much too soon.

It’s just after nine on Sunday morning, and you’re out of– well, pretty much everything. He offers to go but you insist he stays in bed, hair messed up, sheets pooling in his bare lap, glasses slipping down his nose while he rereads Kafka on the Shore. “Stay just like that,” you say it like a demand, but you’re smiling, pulling a scarf around your neck to run down the street to the shop, maybe stop at the deli for breakfast. “Back in a bit, don’t move an inch.”

A few minutes go by when the shrill of the telephone in the living room punctuates the silence. Wonwoo doesn’t get up to answer, it’d be improper, what if it was your mother? So he lets it ring through to answerphone, and when it clicks on it takes him a moment to recognise the voice calling your name.

“Are you there? Pick up, darling, pick up.” Wonwoo knows Hongseok has been trying to get back together with you. You’d mentioned it a few weeks ago, how he’d sent flowers. You don’t even like roses.

“I saw you by the river yesterday,” he says. Wonwoo looks up, stares at the wall. You’d insisted on getting out of the apartment, pulled your bodies from soft sheets and into soft sweaters, and Wonwoo only complained a little bit. In truth he loved walking with you. That he can hold your hand in public and no one bats an eye. Loves that you can be his here, that you claim him too. “You’re with him now? How long, darling? Does he fuck you like I do? ”

Wonwoo scoffs. Hongseok is just jealous. Wonwoo gets it. He does. Even if he’d never dream of saying it.

Hongseok’s voice turns nasty now. “Do you think he’ll stay this time? Does he know you’ve been in love with him this whole time? Everyone else knows. He won’t love you properly, you know. He’s just using you like last time, is he still keeping you a secret? You don’t deserve that, darling. You don’t deserve to be hidden–”

Is that what you thought? That he hid you? Bile swirls in Wonwoo’s stomach. Does he do that? Did he hurt you?

“–he’s just gonna fuck you up again and you’re gonna be miserable. But he won’t let you be happy with anyone, will he? Selfish fucking prick, he’s so cruel to you. You don’t see it, do you? It’s pathetic how fucking dumb you are for him–”

Wonwoo didn’t think he was cruel. There is spit pooling in his mouth, his stomach churns. Is he cruel to you?

The line clicks off as Hongseok spits out every name under the sun, but Wonwoo doesn’t hear the rest as he retches into your bathroom sink.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Forty minutes later, you’re calling out to Wonwoo that you’re home as you kick off your shoes. “I got us bagels, do you want the salmon cream cheese or the egg and ba- oh! You’re up.”

Wonwoo sits on your sofa in soft sweats and a baggy white t-shirt. His skin and hair are damp from the shower. The whites of his eyes are bloodshot. “You okay?” you ask, tentatively.

“Hmm,” he says. “Didn’t feel too good earlier.”

“Poor you,” you say. “Will breakfast make you feel better?”

“No, sorry,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically stiff. “I think I should head home. Don’t wanna give you a bug.”

You laugh softly, unpacking the groceries from the bags. “You spat in my mouth last night, if you’ve got something then I’ll have it in no time,” you say. “C’mon, stay. I’ll look after you. I’ll make soup.”

But Wonwoo is already standing, pulls a little money from his wallet and leaves it on the table. “What’s that for?”

“Breakfast,” he says. “Feel bad you bought all this and I need to go.”

You frown. “Stop being strange, I don’t care about the food, just get the next one.”

Wonwoo sighs. He’s annoyed, you realise. This is weird.

In the end you let him leave without drama, but not without a kiss to his cheek. He leans into it a little longer than usual. Closes his eyes as he hugs you goodbye.

You eat breakfast alone. TV on, sound off, wondering what the fuck even happened before you notice the light of your answerphone flickering.

New message, left 09:21:

Hi Sweetheart! It’s your aunt’s birthday next week, just calling to remind you to send a card. Call me back, okay, love you, bye!

End of messages.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

sorry about the ending there :( if it helps, it does get better for them. thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging so my fic can get seen outside my own little space <3 i love seeing your feedback. if you'd prefer to scream at me directly, feel free to send me a message <3 ily, goodnight!

755 notes · View notes

formulaonecrumbs · 4 months ago

Text

spending my 20’s on you

Lando Norris x university student!reader

summary: lando and reader navigate the ups and downs of being young and in love.

warnings: implied ‘first time’ but not full smut, kissing, sexual tension, angst, fluff, emotional depth, light swearing, not explicit but suggestive, angst with happy ending, mutual pining, some misunderstandings, low-key just a whirlwind of shit.

A/N: this is just multiple scenarios of lando and reader being 20 and in love. (READ) backstory: they’re highschool sweethearts, been dating since they were 17. i forgot to mention it in the fic itself and now idk where to add it so yeah. my brain wouldn’t shut off so this is why this is so long (i think it’s the longest fic i’ve ever written) also i didn’t edit almost any of it, so not much italicising for emphasis, even tho i love doing that. i’m too lazy, writing this took it OUT of me. anyways enjooyyyyyy!!! love u, cuties 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

the dorm room feels warmer than usual when you both stumble in, laughing about something you’ve already forgotten. lando’s arm is around your shoulders, and you’re leaning into him like it’s second nature.

“god, your uni mates are so weird,” he mutters, kicking off his shoes.

you flop onto the edge of your bed, tugging your jacket off. “you’re the one who told that story about getting stuck in your wetsuit.”

“they asked!”

you giggle, flopping back and watching him through blurry eyes.

he looks good. a little flushed. soft curls a bit messy. his hoodie is riding up, and you can see a sliver of skin and the band of his calvin klein underwear when he lifts his arms to stretch.

your stomach flips.

he notices you watching.

“what?”

you shake your head. “nothing.”

but he keeps looking at you.

and you’re still looking at him.

and then… the room goes quiet.

the kind of quiet where your heart feels too loud in your chest.

lando walks over slowly, kneeling in front of where you’re sitting. “can i ask you something?”

you nod.

“how long have we been dancing around this?”

you swallow. “a while.”

he reaches for your hand, his fingers warm. “we don’t have to, you know. not tonight. not ever. not if you’re not sure.”

you are.

you’ve been sure for a while.

so instead of answering, you lean forward and kiss him.

he exhales sharply, like he’s been waiting for that.

it starts slow. nervous. both of you a little unsure, a little buzzed, still giggling in between kisses.

“ow, you elbowed me—”

“your hoodie string is in my mouth—”

but then he pulls away, looking down at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

“are you okay?” he whispers.

you nod. “are you?”

“yeah,” he breathes, smiling a little. “just… really want to do this right.”

“you are,” you say.

and you mean it.

because it’s him.

because it’s always been him.

and it’s not perfect. not even close.

you knock your head on the wall at one point. the bed creaks too much. someone in the hallway yells and makes you both laugh halfway through.

but it’s warm. and slow. and real.

his hands are soft. yours are shaking a little. there’s so much kissing you lose track of time.

“you okay?” he asks again, forehead resting against yours.

“yeah,” you whisper. “don’t stop.”

he doesn’t.

he holds you the entire time.

kisses every inch of your face when it’s over.

you lie there after, tangled in sheets and sweat and silence, just staring at the ceiling and holding hands.

“you’re amazing,” he mumbles sleepily.

you turn your head toward him, nose brushing his.

“lando?”

“yeah?”

“me too.”

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

you wake up before him.

his arm is slung around your waist, his face tucked into your neck, breathing slow and even. there’s a faint sunbeam slipping through the dorm blinds, casting soft light across the mess of clothes on your floor.

you blink slowly, brain still fuzzy. the night flashes through your head in pieces—warm hands, breathless kisses, his voice soft in your ear.

you feel him shift behind you.

a sleepy groan.

then a very tired, very raspy, very adorable:

“‘m i dead?”

you laugh, and he tightens his hold on you, pulling you back against him.

“if you are, this is a really weird afterlife,” you mumble.

he noses at your jaw, half-asleep. “then i’ll stay dead.”

the room is quiet. safe. lando’s fingers trace shapes into your hip lazily, like he’s not even thinking about it. he still smells like you—your shampoo, your dorm, the night you shared.

you turn slightly, and his eyes flutter open.

he smiles. that soft, sleepy smile that melts your insides.

“hi,” he says.

you grin. “hi.”

you’re both quiet for a second. then he says, “so… last night.”

“last night.”

he tilts his head. “was really, really good.”

you nod. “yeah.”

“like. top ten moments of my life.”

you snort. “just ten?”

“i’m leaving room for our wedding,” he says, dead serious.

you shove him, laughing. “you’re such an idiot.”

“your idiot.”

he won’t stop kissing your shoulder.

you won’t stop smiling.

the duvet is halfway off the bed. your legs are tangled together. neither of you make a move to get up.

“hey,” lando whispers.

“what?”

he cups your face gently, thumb brushing your cheek. “you sure you’re okay?”

you nod. “i’m really okay.”

he kisses you again—slow and sweet and so full of love it makes your chest ache.

“cool,” he says. “’cause i was gonna ask to do that again. like. a million more times.”

you roll your eyes. “you’re so romantic.”

“you literally cried after.”

“that was emotional release!”

“you were like—‘oh my god i love you so much.’”

“you mocked me?!”

“i treasured you.”

he pulls you closer, grinning into your skin. “you’re stuck with me now, by the way.”

“i know.”

“good.”

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

lando’s back home. two cities away. two train rides. one entire eternity.

it’s been three days.

three days since he left your dorm. three days since that night. three days since he kissed you like you were the only thing that existed and made you feel like your heart was beating in places you didn’t know hearts could reach.

you’ve talked, obviously. little texts. voice notes. blurry selfies.

but it’s not enough.

it’s so not enough.

your phone buzzes.

lando: you up?

you call him before you can reply.

he picks up after one ring.

“hey,” he says, and he already sounds breathless. like he ran to answer.

you smile, pulling your blanket tighter around your shoulders. “hey.”

he groans. “i miss you.”

“i miss you more.”

“no. like. i actually miss you. like i feel sick. you ruined me.”

you laugh softly. “oh, so it’s my fault?”

“you cursed me,” he says, dramatic. “i’ve been sitting in my bed thinking about your stupid mouth for three hours.”

you bury your face in your pillow, already warm all over. “lando.”

“no. don’t ‘lando’ me. you don’t get it. i’m ruined. do you know how annoying it is to go from literally falling asleep next to you to this?”

you sigh. “i know. i hate this.”

“i keep reaching for you in my sleep.”

you go quiet.

he does too.

then, softer: “it’s worse now.”

“i know.”

“because now i know what it’s like. all of it. all of you.”

you swallow. “lando…”

“i miss your skin,” he says quietly. “and your laugh. and how warm your hands are. and the way you look when you’re half-asleep and trying to pretend you’re not.”

your heart is doing flips.

“i miss your back,” he adds, completely serious. “and your knees. and that little freckle on your hip.”

you smile. “you remember that?”

“i kissed it. i remember all of you.”

you’re silent for a second, heart so full you think it might spill out of you.

then you whisper, “i keep replaying it. over and over. in my head. like a movie.”

“same.”

“i can’t sleep in my bed now. it feels weird.”

“mine’s too cold.”

you both sigh at the same time.

“i wish i was there.”

“i wish you were here.”

“i’d hold you so tight.”

“i’d never let you go.”

lando groans again. “you’re so annoying.”

“you called me, idiot.”

“because i missed you.”

“i missed you more.”

“not possible.”

“try me.”

“fine. come here.”

you smile into the phone. “lando.”

“i’m serious. ditch class. run away with me.”

“and go where?”

“don’t care. as long as you’re there.”

the line goes quiet for a while, but it’s not uncomfortable. it’s soft. warm. you can hear him breathing. feel your heart slowing down a bit.

then he whispers, “i love you, you know.”

“i know,” you whisper back. “i love you too.”

“good,” he says. “i’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“soon.”

but not soon enough.

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

you don’t even remember what set it off.

maybe a missed text. a call that didn’t come.

maybe it was the way you asked if he could visit next weekend and he didn’t answer right away.

“you always have an excuse,” you say, sitting at the edge of your bed, staring down at your phone. “just admit it, you don’t wanna come.”

lando scoffs on the other end of the line. “what? that’s not true—”

“you hesitated.”

“because i was thinking,” he snaps. “i’ve got training, i’ve got classes—i’m not sitting around doing nothing, you know?”

your chest tightens. “and i don’t have things going on too?”

“that’s not what i meant.”

“no,” you cut in, voice sharp. “you never mean it, right? until i’m the one sitting here crying because you forgot again. because you left me on read. again. because you said you’d try harder and then didn’t.”

“jesus christ,” he mutters. “why do you always do this? why does everything have to be a test?”

you go quiet.

there’s a shift on his side of the line. you can almost hear the regret settle in—but he doesn’t say anything.

you blink back the sudden sting in your eyes. “you know what? maybe it is a test. and maybe you’re failing.”

silence.

then, softly: “maybe i am.”

you don’t even know what you expected. not that. and not the way it feels like everything inside you just broke open.

“i’ll call you later,” he says, voice distant.

“lando—”

but he’s already hung up.

the silence after is unbearable.

you don’t sleep that night. not really. you toss and turn and stare at your phone, willing it to light up. hoping he’d take it back. hoping he’d say something.

but he doesn’t.

and the next morning, you walk through your day in a fog, barely listening, barely speaking. you sit in the campus café with some classmates and sip your coffee like it’ll fix anything. one of the girls leans across the table, curious and nosy.

“so… you and lando still together?”

you nod. “yeah.”

she raises a brow. “long-distance? wow. impressive. i couldn’t do that at our age.”

you laugh softly. it sounds wrong. “why not?”

“i mean…” she shrugs. “we’re twenty. you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. don’t you think it’s a little too serious?”

someone else at the table laughs. “right? people act like twenty-year-olds can’t just… date. without planning their whole future together.”

you freeze a little. smile like it doesn’t hurt. like your chest isn’t already bruised from last night.

“yeah,” you say. “maybe.”

but the words stick. they echo.

too serious. too young. whole life ahead of you.

and you hate that for a second—you wonder if they’re right.

it takes two days.

two full days of silence before lando calls.

it’s late. you’re curled up in bed, scrolling mindlessly, trying to pretend you’re fine.

when your phone lights up, your heart leaps. and then crashes back down again.

but you answer.

his voice is soft. cautious. “hey.”

you say nothing.

he exhales. “i deserved that. i just… i didn’t know how to call you after what i said.”

you stay quiet.

“i shouldn’t have said i was failing. i shouldn’t have hung up. i was pissed, but not at you. i’m sorry.”

you close your eyes. “i didn’t mean what i said either.”

“i know.”

there’s a pause. a heavy one.

“someone said something,” you admit, voice small.

“what?”

“just this girl in class. she said we were too young to be this serious. that we should be living our lives, not tying ourselves down.”

lando doesn’t answer right away.

“it got in my head,” you say, softer now. “and then after what you said… i don’t know. maybe we are too young.”

his voice comes out quiet but steady. “we’re not.”

“how do you know?”

“because i’ve already lived without you,” he says. “and it was fine, but it wasn’t this. it wasn’t us. and if this is what tying myself down looks like, then chain me to the fucking floor.”

you blink, your breath catching.

“i know we’re twenty,” he goes on. “i know everyone thinks we should be partying and flirting and figuring things out. but i have. i figured it out the second i met you.”

you stay silent, too overwhelmed to speak.

“i want to come see you,” he says. “this weekend. i’ll skip training, i’ll take the train, i’ll do whatever. just—please let me come.”

you swallow hard. “okay.”

he lets out a breath. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

another pause. then, softly: “you’re it for me.”

you close your eyes again. but this time, you smile.

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

he shows up saturday afternoon, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, hair a mess from the train, and you nearly knock him over when you throw yourself into his arms.

“missed you,” he mumbles into your neck.

“you better have,” you whisper back.

the first few hours are easy. you fall back into each other like no time has passed—like he never said those things, like you never cried yourself to sleep after.

you drag him to your favorite coffee place, then show him around campus, fingers laced the entire time. he asks about your classes and the annoying girl in your literature seminar. you tease him for getting lost in your dorm hallway.

it’s only when the sun goes down and you’re curled up in bed, limbs tangled, his hoodie hanging off your frame, that the conversation shifts.

“so,” he says quietly, his hand tracing shapes on your hip. “that girl who said we were too young to be serious.”

you groan. “please don’t bring her up.”

“nah, i want to. because… i get it. why it stuck with you.”

you turn to look at him, eyes wide.

he shrugs. “it’s a scary thought. being all in. forever.”

your chest tightens. “so you do think it’s too much?”

“no,” he says, instantly. “i think it’s a lot. but it’s the right kind of lot.”

you blink.

“like… yeah, we’re twenty. maybe people think we’re insane for talking about the future already. but i want it all with you.”

you stay quiet, heart beating too fast.

“like, i want to get a flat together. a tiny one with shitty plumbing and a weird neighbor who always plays techno music at 2am. and i wanna argue over what rug to buy, and who used the last of the oat milk.”

you laugh, soft and surprised.

“and i want to marry you,” he adds, voice even softer now. “like—actually. one day. you in some pretty dress, me forgetting my vows halfway through because i’m too busy staring.”

you bury your face in his chest, and he just holds you tighter.

“and kids,” he mumbles into your hair. “not soon. but eventually. little versions of you running around? i mean, yeah. i’m doomed.”

you giggle, half-laugh, half-sob. “what if they look like you?”

“then they’ll be cute but annoyingly stubborn. like, can you imagine? a five-year-old me refusing to eat broccoli?”

you laugh again, and he tilts your chin up gently.

“you really see all that?” you ask.

he doesn’t hesitate. “i do.”

you don’t say anything—you just kiss him. long and slow and full of everything you can’t put into words yet. when you finally pull away, breathless and quiet, you whisper:

“i want all that too.”

he grins like he’s just won the lottery.

“good,” he says. “now we just have to survive your final exams and my next race weekend.”

“and the oat milk arguments.”

“especially the oat milk arguments.”

A/N: (alternate scenario of when he visits cuz i can’t help but write make out scenes with lando :p it’s my favourite 🤷‍♀️)

you don’t even make it past the front door.

he’s barely inside your dorm when you’re already on him—fingers in his hair, lips at his jaw, pulling him close like he might disappear again if you don’t.

“hi,” he mumbles between kisses, grinning like a fool. “missed you too, apparently.”

you just hum, mouth dragging down to his neck. “shut up.”

he laughs, hands on your waist, pulling you against him until there’s barely space to breathe. “you’ve got roommates—”

“they’re gone.”

“all of them?”

“do you care?”

he doesn’t answer. just presses you back against the door and kisses you properly. full and warm and a little desperate. it’s the kind of kiss that feels like a sigh of relief. like he’s been holding his breath for two weeks and finally let go.

your hands tug at the hem of his hoodie, slipping underneath to feel warm skin and familiar lines. his breath catches.

“this isn’t fair,” he murmurs against your lips. “you in this little top… i’m trying to be respectful here.”

you grin. “you’re failing.”

“miserably.”

you stumble backwards, dragging him toward your bed, laughing when he trips over your backpack. you land in a heap, tangled in sheets and limbs and breathless laughter, and he kisses you again, slower now.

“you know i’m obsessed with you, right?” he whispers, kissing your cheek, your jaw, your shoulder.

“yeah,” you breathe. “same.”

the rest of the world falls away. no noise, no schedules, no deadlines—just the soft hum of your dorm heater and the way his thumb rubs lazy circles into your hip.

just his lips, and your hands, and the space between kisses where you smile against each other’s mouths like idiots.

you don’t go further. you don’t need to.

it’s enough to kiss and kiss and kiss until you’re dizzy. until you forget what day it is. until your lips are sore and your hearts feel a little lighter.

just twenty and in love and not caring about anything else.

THE END :>

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 fic #lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagines #lando norris angst #lando fic #lando fanfic #lando x reader #lando fluff #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 angst #lando norris smut

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eph3merall · 1 year ago

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. . . ( part 2 )

—

"nah, what the fuck is this— big bad wolf bullshit?" you can hear matt's voice falter for a second, your bare knees digging into the wood floor of his room. he decided to stream for a few hours tonight, both chris and nick away doing their own things.

for the first hour and a half matt just played some games until you got bored and snuck under his desk, his hand cupping your cheek to give it a light warning smack to whatever cheeky ideas that were brewing in your head.

deft hands slowly started tugging his sweatpants down, to which he just hummed and swiveled around gently in his chair for a second. settling back down, matt was leaning forwards a little to put some music on for the stream, shouting out names he was able to catch that were gifting.

he's fixing his headset and turning the music up a little, it's mainly just to hide any groans and sighs he lets out however. for a second, he steals a glance down at you to find you slowly lowering the hem of his boxers, and he responds by subtly lifting his hips.

matt didn't totally like this idea. one little mistake and the whole stream of.. fifteen thousand people would know what was going on, but he couldn't deny how painfully hard he was just by seeing you on your knees—a little cramped under the small space of his desk.

when you free his length to find pre already dribbling from his slit, your thumb reaches up to thumb at his tip and spread the bead of pre made lube down his shaft. you don't miss the way his thighs tense, hips twitching up a little as you listen to the way he scolds the chat for telling him to react to edits and read fanfiction.

one hand rests on his thigh while the other jerks up and down slowly, twisting your wrist up at the top as you lean forward. parting your lips, you let some saliva drip down the length of his dick and don't miss the heavy sigh he lets out.

soon you're hollowing your cheeks out and bobbing your head gently up and down matt's cock—one hand threading through your hair and digging blunt nails into the back of your head. you can't see his face—but you can hear the way his voice trembles once in awhile and how heavy he's breathing.

your nose presses into his skin, dick shoved all the way down your throat and you gag—only forcing matt to ball one of his hands up into a fist to pretened to cough because he was about this close to letting out a groan.

the noisy slurping and gagging noises of your mouth have him panicking for a second before he's quickly turning the volume of the music up, per chat's request and totally not because it put him just a little more at ease.

he keeps a hand casual over his mouth or on his face, pretending to cough or whatever. his other hand is leaving your head—fingers twitching to pull you off just so he can fuck your throat to his heart's content.

so far so good, right? the stream went pretty smoothly until you'd done something with your tongue and he felt his tip hit the back of your throat, and matt's head is tilting back against his gaming chair and a tortured groan is ripped from his lips.

oops?

notes. sorry if this has spelling mistakes / mistakes in general or anything doesn't make sense i am TIREDD... feel kinda insane w how good matt n chris looked on stream tho. anyways where the fuck did 75 followers come from? like? what??? thank u all i love u guys <3 know its not a lot but argghhb + i reached 100+ notes on a post like ugh <33

—

©eph3merall 2024

#ᶻz eph3merall #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo prompt #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #fr tho what tf do i tag in my posts #still one of my questions tbh

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oceantornadoo · 5 months ago

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best friend!johnny mactavish x f!reader SMUT

you know a regular best friend shouldn’t touch you like johnny does. unfortunately, you let him do it anyways. he always has to have a hand on you: squeezing your waist in passing, pinching your earlobe when you’re not listening to him, a hand on the nape of your neck as he walks next to you. it leads to a lot of confusion with others, but you love it, love knowing where your friendship stands based on how much he touches you. some might call it anxious attachment but to you it’s survival, having lived through toxic friendships with shady people. unfortunately, it also means whoever you go out to dinner, the waiters assume you’re on a date.

johnny told you to get dolled up so here you are in your favorite cocktail dress, his hand on your thigh as you eat at the bar. it’s better than any date you’ve ever been on, mainly because your favorite sports team is playing on the bar TV and you can burp whenever you want.

before you leave, the woman who’s been staring at him all night approaches. she’s pretty and when his hand drops from your thigh, your heart sinks. “excuse me if this is too forward, but are you two on a date?” you shake your head no before johnny can answer, already sullen. she smiles sweetly at you before turning to johnny, hands fidgeting adorably. she introduces herself and sticks out her hand, which johnny takes. “john.” he replies, and you frown, having never heard him use that version of his name. “i just wanted to say i think you’re handsome and was wondering if i could get your number?” johnny’s eyes flick over her head and land on yours, eyebrows raised. you freeze your facial expression, not sure what he wants from you. finding something in your eyes, he turns back to her and shakes his head. “‘m nae datin’ right now, lot happenin’ at work. ah appreciate the offer tho'.” he shoots her a charming smile and even though she’s been rejected, the power of it sends her flittering. “oh, it’s no worry! enjoy your night.” and with that, she takes her leave.

“you could’ve said yes. we’re on leave.” he shrugs, flagging the bartender for another round. “could’ve.” he buys you one round, then two, until you complain about having an early morning tomorrow (it’s a yoga class but you hold firm anyway).

he tells the taxi driver there will be only one stop, his address slurred out. “i have to go home, johnny,” you pout, making no move to tell the driver your own address. when the car stops at his place, johnny crowds your back, his chest pressed to the seam of your spine. you take his keys from his hand, a familiar dance of unlocking the building door and walking up the stairs, fiddling with his three locks until they all click. you toe off your heels and collapse dramatically on his couch. your stomach is heavy from dinner and drinks, eyes closing as you consider giving into an impending food coma. when you blink them open again, it’s too late. johnny’s shadow falls on yours, his weight smothering you into the couch.

“get off, johnny, i'm too full for this.” his head is flush to your stomach, a place he’s touched with hands but never like this. you thread your hands through his mohawk and half-heartedly try to push him away. “off.” he grumbles at your tone, giving in slightly to your ministrations as he slides down. your dress is rucked up to your thighs and you don’t realize it until the gentle fabric of his shirt brushes them.

“johnny…” he turns, eyes dark as his face presses into your lower belly. “ah can make ye feel good, hen.” he slides further, his nose bumping the gusset of your underwear as you remember how you forgoed shorts under your outfit. your hips buck at the sudden pressure against your clit, encouraging him further. “it’s jus’ me, lass. can smell ‘er from here.” you whine at his tone and the force of his gaze. johnny exhales onto the seam of your cunt, sending you shivering as his breath cools the wet spot on your panties. your core pulses, making the decision for you.

“ok.” you whisper. he yanks your underwear to the side, pressing his nose to your aching clit. you buck again but this time he holds you down, strong hands beating the muscle of your legs. his tongue peeks out and licks, the smooth glide of it a feeling you haven’t felt in a long time. “taste s’ fuckin’ good.” he has to be lying but his eyes seem truthful, wide and eager like a puppy dog. your hand is still in his hair and you tug him up until his mouth finds your clit, sucking gently. “you’re a mutt, y’know that?” you slur, drunk on the power in your hands. all johnny does it nod and suck more, his thumb finding your hole and easing you open. he plays you like an instrument, adjusting his ministrations based on the sounds you emit. despite only one finger inside you, you feel full, and wet from johnny's constant touches at dinner.

your orgasm creeps up on you easily, core fluttering as johnny makes a mess of your cunt. you can feel wetness slip down onto the couch, but with how much johnny is enjoying himself, you don’t even feel embarrassed. the spell is broken when you hear keys in the door, unlocking it loudly.

“johnny, johnny, it’s si-", he cuts you off with another finger pressed into you, scissoring them so he can press your cunt closer to his face. you squeeze your eyes shut and when you open, a hulking mass of a man is trekking through the living room. “fuckin’ ‘ell, you two lost me a tenner t' gaz.” you can’t even respond, johnny eating you out with renewed vigor. with every lick and suck, he brings you closer and closer to the edge. simon opens his bedroom door and slams it shut, the sound of rock music drifting through his walls a moment later.

“fuckin’ squeezin’ ma fingers, bonnie. c’mon, ah ken ye want t’ come.” he rarely calls you bonnie and that’s what sends you over the edge. as your core flutters, you remember the other times he’s called you that. in a hospital room, cuts on your brow and your arm in a sling. in a desert with dirt in every crevice, a week without showering. and now, at the altar of your thighs, eating you like his last meal. johnny keeps licking at you until you tug him off forcefully.

despite you being the one to orgasm, he looks wrecked. lips red with effort, his stubble shining with your wetness. he gives you that same charming smile and you close your legs, never minding his fingers still inside you. “taste like heaven, hen.” you squeeze your thighs until he removes his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them like a lollipop. worry crashes over you like a wave as nerves buzz under your skin.

“is that- are we-“ you scramble off the couch, escaping to his bedroom with johnny on your heels. “‘s wrong?” your underwear is half off your legs and there’s wetness between your thighs and you’re worried that you’ve changed the one friendship you can depend on. that’s what’s wrong. you try to cover your eyes with your hands, but he doesn’t let you, tugging them so they’re pinned to your sides.

“doe, talk t’ me.” you sniffle, completely undignified. “i just- can’t lose you as a friend, johnny. you’re my best friend.” johnny kisses you, your slick wet on his lips. he pulls back before you can blink. “dinnae think anythin’ else, hen. y’r my best friend too. nothin’s changin’.” you frown, gesturing between you two. “what about…” he shrugs. instead of answering, johnny tugs your dress over your head. skilled hands slide your underwear down your thighs. he leaves for his closet and returns a moment later, a worn t-shirt in your hands. you put your hands up and he slides the shirt over your head in a practiced manner. “better?” you nod, still confused. “made us closer friends, righ’?” you nod again. “nothin’s changed, then. we make the rules.”

when you climb into bed, something feels wrong. he sleeps like usual, on his side with a bit of space between you. when you turn around, your back to him, it finally clicks. “you didn’t come.” you murmur. the bed moves as he shrugs. “‘ll get off in the morn.” instead of replying, your hand fumbles behind you until you find his stomach. he doesn’t stop you, allowing your hand to dip down into his boxers. his cock is heavy in your hands, thick and straining with effort. you scoot closer but the angle is awkward, your hand slipping as you try to put it in. johnny takes the reins, a large hand covering yours as he eases his cock into your seeping hole, still wet from earlier. johnny tugs you into him with a hand to your lower stomach, pressing against the slight bulge there. “sleep, hen, an’ i’ll fuck ye in the mornin’.” finally satisfied and full with the weight of him as your hole stretches, you sleep.

more best friend johnny here

#tornadothoughts #cod 141 #fluff #john soap mactavish #best friend!johnny #soap #soap call of duty #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x f!reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish

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wheeboo · 7 months ago

Text

candy | yoon jeonghan

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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.

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

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

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.”

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

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.

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.

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

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?

“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.”

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

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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.”

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.

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

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.”

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.”

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

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youbitchuh · 5 months ago

Text

Ridin Hamzah’s In Hawaii

fluff fluff and fluff :)

There is swear words tho!

(obviously theres gonna be smut in future stories i mean the title)

Hamzah x Reader (no mentions of y/n)

9:34am

The sound of Mandy constantly turning and sighing next to me was getting exaggerating, I know that this is just her way of asking me to get up without actually asking. I turn and face her and stay silent, she gives me a grin

“Hamzah was talking about you to Martin last night…i heard him” she says as her voice gets higher pitched with her last couple of words.

“Was he now…cool” I pretend to be cool by shrugging it off, “no big deal” I say as I sit up next to her. Pretending to not be absolutely in love with your best-friends boyfriend’s best-friend is so so hard and so draining..especially when you spend basically every minute together.

——————————————————————10:46am

I pop my lips and fix up my hair before exiting the bathroom. “how is my outfit?” I ask Mandy as she spins around on her heels to face me. I watch as her face lights up.

“Girl you look so cute” She exclaims as she walks closer to me, “and what about mwah” she says placing her hands on her chest to show off her outfit.

“You’re so gorgeous Mandy” I say with a pout.

*knock knock*

“Ill get it” Mandy says as she walks past me darting for our hotel door, “Oh hi Hamzah” She says almost upset that it wasn’t her boyfriend. My eyes dart up at the name “Are you two almost ready?” He says in a low tone, Mandy looks back at me sitting on the bed and nods. I grab the rest of my shit and start making my way to the door. I take in Hamzahs features, his curls, his smile, his nose. I smile at him awkwardly and stand with him. I clear my throat as I try to ignore the fact that I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my face.

———————————————————————1:57pm

I take a sip of my cocktail as I look over the bars balcony view of the beach, Mandy and Martin fucked off to God knows where and who the hell knows where Hamzah is. My trance is suddenly disrupted as a figure sits next to me. Its Hamzah.

“Hey” he says in a cheery tone watching me immediately straighten my posture.

“Oh hi..” I say trying to act unbothered, in reality im really nervous i mean ive known this guy for over a year and we have barley exchanged words with eachother but i still feel like i know everything about him. I face him and give him a soft smile.

“Where were you?” I ask curious of his were-abouts.

“Why did you miss me?” Hamzah jokes with a slight teasing tone, “Nah im kidding i was just walking along the beach it is very beautiful” he says as he grabs his hat and places it on his head. Who does that? He looks so beautiful like that.

“Ohh nice nice, I mean I haven’t really left the bar because I’ve just been alone” I look at him as he lets out a stiff laugh at my comment.

“I might go down to the beach again though.. you should come with me” Hamzah suggests as he puts his pointer finger on my shoulder acting like he just changed the way the world moved.

————————————————————————

2:30pm

“Oh my God” I say loudly with a loud laugh as I trip on the sand for the fifth time. I fix myself up and continue to laugh as Hamzah cant seem to stop. I hit his shoulder “Its not that funny…stop” I say in between laughs. We take a deep breath and continue walking in silence just taking in the view, over time we got closer together his arm brushing against mine and our shoulders kept bumping into eachother. I feel him look down at me as he grabs my hand and puts it in his. A flush of red rises on my cheeks as I look up at him and give me a smile. “You know I was talking about you to Martin last night?” He says almost like a suggestion, he purses his lips as he waits for my response.

There was now a sudden thick tension in the air. I don’t know what it was but there was something there. I mean there always is for me anyway but now I feel like that barrier of not being able to be on him is gone.

“Yeah I do know actually” I laugh, hes pulling me away to go sit at some chairs that overlook the beach. “Mandy told me this morning” I say as we sit down. My heart is racing I mean this is the first time I have ever been alone with him.

“I told him how I think you are beautiful” I look at him and smile at his words. He gives me a smile as I watch him take in my features. “I also told him how I think you’re really cool… and funny… I was gonna say smart but that would’ve been a lie no offence” I look at him and place my hand on my chest and scoff.

“Wow im offended” I say as I roll my eyes but laugh at his comment. I look back up at him “I think you are beautiful too”.

————————————————————————

10:06pm

We are all sitting on the beach having a bonfire, Mandy and Martin keep telling some story on what happened while they went off for the day, I didn’t care I was so focused on how beautiful Hamzah looked with the fire glowing onto his face.. he looks so different in this light and im not complaining.

“Hes so beautiful” Mandy snaps her head towards me “Who is?? huh??” I look back at her “What do you mean?” She leans closer to me “you didnt say that in your head..” I widen my eyes and look at Hamzah whos running his hands through his curls, his face is flushed almost like he was happy I said it.

Me and Hamzah didn’t speak to eachother since we went for a walk together, it would’ve been awkward if we did. My feelings towards him are becoming so much more noticeable and I hate it.

————————————————————————

12:26am

Ive been sitting in the hotel room for over an hour now, I excused myself because me calling Hamzah beautiful out loud made me feel sick,but why? I said it to his face, was it the fact that I’ve now let myself feel vulnerable because I said it infront of my friends?

*knock knock knock*

Im suddenly disrupted out of my thoughts

“Hold on im coming” I say as I straighten my outfit and walk towards to door. Its Hamzah, I clear my throat as I look up at him.

“Uh hey..can we talk?” He motions towards me and lets himself inside. I shut the door behind him and follow him over to the bed.

“Look I don’t know why I said that out loud, I feel so stupid and I looked vulnerable I never meant to say it, I felt like I embarrassed you more than I did myself and I just wanted to say Im sor-”.

My word were cut off by Hamzahs soft lips attaching themselves onto mine.

“Dont”

“Worry”

“About”

“It”

He says inbetween kisses, his hand makes his way to my face, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear not breaking the kiss. This was so passionate every single second of it felt like heaven, my hands started wondering over his body landing on his chest, hot and flushed. The feeling of his chest rising and falling between every kiss was magical. My face becoming more flushed as our tongues danced together. I start pushing on his chest as a sign to stop. I look at him taking in deep breaths. No words exchanged. Just living in the moment.

————————————————————————

2:45am

Deep breaths and slight snores fill the room. My hand lays on Hamzahs chest as he sleeps away, my eyes suddenly dart over towards the door as Mandy makes her way through it…loudly and clearly drunk. She spots me and Hamzah cuddling on the only bed in the room.

“Awww so cute” she slurs as she points to the two of us. I put my finger up to my lips at an attempt to silence her as she walks closer to the side im lying on. “Im just gonna go sleep in Martins room..” She whispers in my ear. I nod her off and watch as she walks away, “Use protection Mandy!” I whisper shout as she gets closer to the door, she turns around “you too!” I chuckle to myself.

Well this is gonna be awkward when he wakes up..

————————————————————————

Tags:

#hamzah x reader #slushyvirus #hamzah the fantastic #slushy noobz #martin and hamzah #hamzahthefantastic #hamzah imagines #hamzah fluff #Spotify #fanfic #mandysiphone #thatmartinkid #slushy fight #hamzah x y/n #girlblogging #that martin kid #hamzah fic #4freakshow

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corkinavoid · 7 months ago

Text

For @pinklotushere, to 'Die With a Smile' by Lady GaGa and Bruno Mars,

DPxDC Before Tomorrow

"I didn't know where else to go."

Danny looks up at the vigilante who is standing on the edge of the roof just a few feet away from him. He watches him fidget and roll his shoulders uncomfortably, then reach up and peel his domino mask off. He won't meet Danny's eyes, he notices absentmindedly.

"Your family, maybe?" He offers, and Tim's shoulders slump in relief.

They hadn't spoken to each other since that very heated discussion over a week ago. Okay, some might have even called it a fight, what with all the yelling, but hey, no one threw punches, so it was still pretty civil in Danny's book.

"They are still running around trying to stop it," Tim shrugs, the line of tension in his shoulders still barely there. Ah, the sole reason that discussion got so heated in the first place. The burden of heroism. Fighting till the very end, even if there's nothing you can do.

Danny turns away, his gaze firmly back on the pink, barely there line at the slowly brightening horizon - the only sign that the sunrise is almost here.

"And you're not?" He asks, not looking at Tim and trying to make the question sound easy and lighthearted. Like it's just another one of their long night talks, one that you can never remember in the morning because you didn't really talk about something in particular, you just talked.

There's a sound of footsteps coming closer, then a ruffle of Tim's cape behind his back, and a faint warmth of his shoulder brushing against Danny's. He sits down just beside, dangling his feet over the edge of the roof. Over the emptiness that is sixty stores between them and the ground.

"No," Tim shrugs, his eyes also on the brink of dawn, slowly creeping through the jagged skyline of Gotham. "I thought, hey, you know, if the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you," he says with a short laugh. Danny can't figure out if it's hysterical or just relieved. Maybe it's both.

"Like the song?" He asks, a smile tugging on his lips, "If the party was over, and our time on Earth was through?" He recites, turning to look at Tim.

He looks pretty - well, his boyfriend always looks pretty, that's not new - but this time, Danny looks closer, almost studying his face with a rapt attention of a scientist. Trying to engrave them in his memory: the line of his nose and the faint light of the not-yet-here sun, the chapped lips and the calm, almost serene blue in his eyes.

"Yeah, like the song," Tim chuckles and turns to face him, meeting his eyes for the first time since he appeared on the roof. "I'd wanna hold you just for a while," he murmurs, something soft in his voice, and Tim is not a great singer, but Danny loves him anyway. He loves everything about Tim. Including his stubborn decision to keep trying to do something, keep fighting when there's no way out, keep clawing his way through the ruthless circumstances that leave him no choice.

He doesn't finish the verse, and Danny gives him a crooked smile, doing it for him, "And die with a smile."

Tim's face doesn't change. He is still smiling, looking at Danny with a fondness he only likes to show behind the closed doors, and, with a short pang at his core, Danny realizes: He's dealt with it.

He's dealt with the unbending storm inside of him that pushed him to fight despite the consequences, he's came to terms with the promise of impending doom.

And he came here to sit beside Danny, dangling their feet over the edge of a skyscraper, and watch the last sunrise.

Danny feels so much love for his boyfriend that it almost hurts, his core thrumming in his chest, threatening to spill out.

The first rays of sunshine color Tim's cheek with gold, and Danny leans forward.

Tim's eyes flutter closed, but Danny doesn't kiss him, like he probably expected - and, in all fairness, like he probably should have. Instead, he only brushes his lips over the boy's cheek and leans closer to his ear.

There are thousands of things he can say, starting with the simple 'I love you' and all the way to 'I won't let you die, smile or not'.

But the one thing he says, a cheeky grin on his face, is,

"I lied. There is a way."

He did not, there isn't, but Tim takes a sharp breath in and grips his shoulder so tight it hurts, and Danny knows he will find it even if the better timeline will never come.

~•~•~•~

That song is a waltz, and waltzes always make me feel like writing heart-wrenching love stories, I'm sorry. No, I'm not, I lied.

The pure fucking devotion, people. Tim, who is okay with giving up just to spend the last minutes with Danny and Danny, who is okay with ruining the world just so he can make Tim happy. I'm in love with them.

[Also, my initial idea was to write a DarkHumor (Dick/Dan) spicy piece for this, but then Dead Tired took over my brain and ate it whole, so here we are]

#danny phantom #dpxdc #dc x dp #tim drake #tim x danny #dead tired #i might have took the lyrics a bit more literally than nevessary #but hey #im here to write boys in love #i think i did great #apocalypse #cork prompts #cork game

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thedivinereverie · 9 months ago

Text

A Burning Desire part six

firefighter!joel miller x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist

rating: explicit. 18+, minors do not interact.

warnings: angst, hospitals, fluff, feelings!!! lots and lots of feelings!!!, smut (f!oral receiving, mentions of m!oral and handjobs, fingering, unprotected piv, consented filming), anxiety and overthinking, no use of y/n.

word count: 10.1k

synopsis: Joel’s accident has you confessing your feelings, and while you take care of him, you worry you’re becoming too attached too quick.

a/n: sorry the mood board sucks i literally couldn’t find anything that fit the vibes. hope u enjoy tho. xoxo

You don’t even know how you and Maria got to the hospital so fast.

Everything was a complete blur; your mind was in a haze and your heart was beating so fast you thought it would nearly jump out of your chest.

Please be okay. Please be okay. He has to be okay.

Your vision became blurry as tears welled your eyes, and in your mind all you can think about Joel and hoping to god you guys didn’t run any red lights, speeding against time and pouring rain as you drove here.

He has to be okay.

You felt like you were going to throw up. You didn’t know how bad it was, and you weren’t trying to be dramatic, but how could you not be worried?

The man you love is hurt and you couldn’t do anything about it. Your mind immediately went to Sarah, wondering if she was already here—then it shifted back to all of the scenarios running in your mind a million miles a minute.

A sob escapes your throat as Maria parks the car, giving you a tight hug before getting out of the car with you.

“It’ll all be okay. It’s Joel we're talking about here, hm? He’s a resilient man,” she tries her best to console you, but all you can do is meekly nod before you walk into St. David’s.

You’re shaking like a leaf as you approach the front desk. Maria clears her throat and the receptionist looks between you two, furrowing her brows.

“You’re not hurt, are you honey?” She asks you, and you shake your head. Not physically, anyway.

“No,” Maria tells her, “We’re here to see someone who got checked in probably not too long ago,” she says, and the receptionist nods in understanding. She twists her bright pink lips to the side, typing something into her computer.

“Who’s the patient you’re visiting today?” She pushes her glasses up her nose, looking at Maria intently.

“First name Joel, last name Miller.”

The receptionist types something into her computer once again, and she nods.

“Looks like he’s popular today. He has a lot of visitors,” she says, and you know it’s to lighten the mood, but you can’t bring yourself to laugh. You give her a small smile before she prints out two visitor stickers and hands them to you both.

“Here you are ladies. Fourth floor, and on the left is the waiting room.”

“Thank you ma’am,” Maria says, pulling your arm gently as you both put the stickers on and head to the elevators.

A few stray tears roll down your cheeks on the quiet ride up to the fourth floor. Maria won’t let go of you; a silent plea to say I’m here for you without saying a single word.

The elevator doors open and you turn to the left, seeing nearly everyone in the waiting room sporting an Austin Fire Department uniform. Your eyes search the room for Tommy and Sarah, and when you spot them, you make a beeline for them both.

You give Sarah a tight hug, rubbing her back in consolement. You’re the adult here, so you have to be strong and put on a brave face for her until you find out Joel’s prognosis.

Tommy hugs you next, and you can hear the stuttering in his breath as he tries to take a beat to calm down. He wraps Maria in his arms once he lets go of you, and you go back to hugging Sarah, to which she accepts in a heartbeat.

She’s hugging you tight and won’t let go, and you look around the room and give a weak smile to all of Joel and Tommy’s coworkers as they wave at you with sad smiles.

“What happened, Tommy?” You whisper, trying to brace yourself for the worst.

He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut.

“We were on a call and Joel needed to get to the third floor of a building, so he was climbing the ladder of the truck. I guess he slipped or lost his footing because he fell off the damn ladder, and his harness didn’t hold his body weight up right and it fucking snapped. He fell three stories to the ground,” Tommy said, tears coming out of his eyes.

You could barely even process his words. Your blood was pulsing in your ears and your body went still. You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to cry and panic, but you were in a room full of his colleagues and his daughter’s arms were wrapped around you tightly.

You look at him with glossy eyes, letting out a shaky breath. “Have the doctors said anything yet?”

“They’re doing scans and tests on him right now,” Tommy says.

“Was he at least wearing his helmet?” You can’t help but gnaw on your lip, body starting to tremble again in disbelief and fear.

“He was, but he took a really hard fall. He kept coming in and out of consciousness on the way here,” he says, and you shut your eyes to steady yourself. Maria gave you a look of sympathy before coaxing the four of you to sit down.

It became a waiting game at that point. Everyone was talking quietly amongst themselves, and Sarah leaned in to you and rested her head on your shoulder.

“How are you holding up?” You ask her, voice soft and concerned.

“He’s been hurt before, but not like this. I’m really scared,” she confesses, and you sigh and wrap your arm around her shoulder.

“Me too, sweetheart, but your dad is a strong man. He’ll get through whatever the outcome is,” you try to reassure her, but even you heard the worry in your own voice.

After what seemed like hours, a doctor comes out, looking down at her clipboard.

“For Joel Miller?” She says, and everyone looks up. She blinks in surprise that nearly the whole waiting room’s eyes are on her.

“Who’s his next of kin?” She asks, and Tommy stands up. He looks down at you and Sarah, nodding his head toward the doctor. He grabs Maria’s hand and you all walk up to her, waiting for her to tell you what’s going on with him.

“How is he?” Tommy asks, worry written all over his face. His brows were furrowed, eyes glossy, and his body language was stiff—he was on edge.

“We need to keep him here for a few days to keep a watchful eye on him and observe, just to make sure he’ll be okay. He hit his head really hard. He’s concussed and he has a couple of broken ribs with some bad bruising in various locations, but I’d consider him a seriously lucky fella. This could’ve ended a lot worse for him, but his heavy gear and helmet took a big amount of shock absorption from the fall,” she explains, and it feels like you can breathe a little better.

Of course, his injuries are still nothing of the sort that you wanted to hear, but knowing they aren’t worse than what they are fills you with a tiny bit of relief.

“When can we see him?” Sarah asks, and the doctor gives her a soft smile.

“Now, actually. He’s asleep and heavily medicated, so he probably won’t be up for awhile. Four visitors are allowed at a time,” the doctor says, and you all nod.

“You girls go ‘head. ‘M gonna inform the guys on what she just told us,” Tommy says, and you three nod before you follow the doctor past the doors labeled restricted. She takes you down a long hallway and into a room on the right hand side.

Your eyes land on Joel, wearing a hospital gown with an IV in his arm. He looks peaceful while he sleeps, breathing steadily on his own. You notice the bruising starting to form on his arms and you can’t help but get teary-eyed again at the sight of him like this.

You obviously know his job comes with many, many dangers—you just never in a million years thought he’d get hurt like this. You three pull up chairs to his bedside, making sure to stay out of the hospital staff’s way in case they need to get in around Joel or his bed.

“This man really is resilient,” Maria says, smiling at Sarah. She returns a weak one back with a small nod.

“He is. I know he’s a hero and he’s great at what he does, but sometimes I wish he and Uncle Tommy had a profession less… dangerous,” she confesses.

You can’t even begin to imagine the anxiety she’s faced practically her whole life, knowing her dad is doing a job that’s strenuous and physically demanding, not to mention the danger he has to face every time he’s out in the field.

“Have you ever talked to him about it?” You ask softly, genuinely curious and not-too-shocked about her confession. It seems like this thing would be normal for kids to think about when it comes to their loved ones performing a dangerous job such as this one.

She shakes her head. “No,” she says with a sigh, “He loves this job and it makes him happy. The last thing I want for him is to leave what makes him happy because of me.”

Sarah has to be the most level-headed, mature fourteen-year-old, you think. You’ve never met anyone as wise as her at her age—hell, nobody was this wise when you were around her age—and yet, her bravery and wits was tell-all about how she was raised. Joel really did a great job.

“I get your point,” you say eventually, meticulously calculating your next choice of words. “Maybe you should have that conversation with him, though—in your own time. His job makes him happy and it’s important, of course, but you make him happier and you will always come before his job.”

She offers you a small smile as she leans her head on your shoulder. You wrap your arm around her shoulders once more, giving her a loving squeeze of reassurance.

“You know, you’re an important part of his life now, too,” she starts. “He talks about you a lot. Admires you a ton. He’s crazy about you,” she giggles, green eyes looking up at you.

You can’t help but softly laugh.

“I’m crazy about him, too,” you confess, and Sarah’s smile widens.

“I’m really glad my dad finally found someone that makes him genuinely happy. You’re the perfect fit for our small lil family, so uh, thanks for being here. For him. For me. For all of us.”

Her words make your chest tighten and bloom with warmth. You can’t help it this time—tears spring to your eyes and you kiss her hair, smiling at her with pure endearment.

“There’s no place I’d rather be. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your lives.”

“Well damn, it’s about to be a sob fest in here,” Maria says, eyes welling with tears too.

All three of you laugh, wiping away the few tears that managed to escape. The door opens a few seconds later, and Tommy walks in. He looks exhausted, and he smiles sadly when his eyes land on his brother who was still in a deep sleep.

He sits in the empty chair next to Maria, watching as Joel’s chest rises and falls at a steady pace.

“Thank god he’s responsible and wore his gear correctly,” Tommy chuckles, shaking his head. “Doctor said he might be a little loopy when he wakes up from the medication.”

“He’s always been the responsible one, Uncle Tommy,” Sarah chastised him, causing everyone to laugh.

“Yeah yeah. I owe your old man big time, kid. Now I got this lovely lady here to keep me in check,” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows as he leans in to kiss Maria’s temple.

“Damn right, Miller. Don’t you forget it,” she pats his knee twice, an unmistakable happy grin adorning her lips.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he says, and she nudges his side before everyone’s attention shifts to Joel who groans softly. He doesn’t wake up, but his brows furrow for a few seconds before the tension leaves his face.

“Well, ‘m goin’ down to the cafeteria before it closes for the night. Anyone care to join me?” Tommy asks, gaze flitting from Maria to Sarah to you.

“Actually yeah, I haven’t eaten dinner tonight,” Sarah says, twisting her lips to the side. “I’ll go with you.”

“I’ll join you two,” Maria says as they all get up from their chairs, and you furrow your brows at her before she gives you a soft smile. “Just so you can get a little alone time with him,” she whispers, and you mouth thank you.

The door snaps shut behind them as they leave the room, and your focus hones in on Joel. You grab his hand and lace your fingers with his. You bring his hand up to brush your lips on his knuckles, leaving soft kisses there. His hand is warm. He is warm. He’s always warm; the most comfortable and loving presence you’ve ever been around.

You admire how strong this man is. How loving, how loyal, how he’s the type to give someone the shirt off his back if they needed it most. He’s selfless in every way possible. He’s the man of your dreams, and you’re so lucky to have found him when you did.

For once in your life, being confident and not pushing someone you care about away in self-sabotage has worked out endlessly in your favor.

“I love you, Joel,” the words slip past your lips easily, giving his knuckles another sweet kiss, “I love you so, so much. I’m so beyond lucky to be with you. I ain’t going anywhere, cowboy, so I hope you don’t get tired of me.”

Joel’s hand tightens around yours and you gasp, eyes darting to his face. He purses his lips before his hand goes limp again and you sigh, leaning over to kiss his forehead before you let go of his hand.

You decide to call your family and let them know what happened, just to keep them in the loop. You start with your mom and dad, standing in the corner of the hospital room as you look out at the plethora of lights of Austin that illuminate the night.

“Hey honey! We were just thinkin’ of you,” your mom chirps, and you laugh softly before you sigh and answer her in a hushed tone.

“Hey mama, I’ve got some bad news,” you start, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Oh no. What is it babygirl?” Her voice is laced with worry and overprotectiveness.

“Joel got injured pretty badly at work. He’s in the hospital right now, but he’s okay.”

Her gasp was unmistakable on the other line. “What? How did he get injured?”

“He slipped off of the truck ladder due to the rain, and his harness snapped,” you say, looking back at Joel.

“My god, how badly is he injured?” She’s frantic, and you hear some shuffling in the background.

“He’s got a pretty bad concussion, a couple of broken ribs and some bruising. Doctors said he’s very lucky considering the circumstances.”

“Oh, sweetheart. Is there anything we can do?”

“Do you mind texting the family group chat? I feel bad, I don’t want to bug Emi or Josh on their honeymoon but I wanna keep them in the loop.”

“Of course I can. And you know Emi, she’d want to know regardless,” your mom says, and you nod with a sigh.

“Thank you mom. I’ll keep you guys updated, okay?”

”Alright baby girl. Let us know. Love you lots,” she says, and you smile.

“Love you too, mama. Bye,” you hang up your phone and shove it in your back pocket, facing Joel again. He inhales sharply and squeezes his eyes shut, and you rush to his side and grab his hand.

“Joel?” You try to level out the anxiousness in your voice, biting your lip and furrowing your brows as he squeezes your hand.

He groans softly, eyes fighting to open. He eventually blinks them open the tiniest bit, furrowing his brow as he takes in his surroundings.

“What the hell happened?” He asks, voice cracking as he shuts his eyes again and swallows harshly.

“You were in an accident at work, my love. You took a pretty big fall,” you say, bringing his knuckles up to your mouth so you can softly kiss them.

“Shit,” he murmurs, eyes cracking open again.

“Everyone’s waiting for you in the waiting room. Sarah, Maria, and Tommy went to get food in the cafeteria. ‘M gonna go get a nurse to check up on you, okay?” You try to keep your voice soft and light in hopes of keeping him at ease.

He nods slightly, wincing when he tries to take a deep breath. You kiss his knuckles one more time before letting go of his hand, walking over to the nurses station not too far from his room.

“Excuse me?” You say, getting the attention of a nurse. He looks up at you with a smile, and you easily return one.

“The patient in room 411 just woke up.”

The nurse—whose name tag says Jeremy— nods at you and walks with you back to Joel’s room, and Joel squints his eyes open again. Jeremy grabs the clipboard off of the end of Joel’s bed, beaming down at him with a smile. You text Tommy that Joel’s awake and they should head back to the room soon in the meantime.

“Hey Mr. Miller, how are you feelin’?” Jeremy checks a couple of his vitals on the monitors, jotting something down on his paperwork.

“Like I got hit by a bus,” Joel says, wincing again as he tries to sit up more.

“It might feel like that for a couple of weeks, unfortunately. You had a pretty bad accident at work. You have a concussion and a couple of broken ribs,” Jeremy explains to Joel, and Joel’s face deflates.

“Shit,” he says, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows.

“We’re goin’ to keep you a couple ‘a days just to make sure your concussion isn’t too serious,” Jeremy says to Joel, clipping the clipboard back on the end of the bed.

The look on Joel’s face tells you he wants to argue, but it’s apparent the exhaustion he’s feeling has drained the fight in him. You can hear it in your head: ‘Couple ‘a days? I’ll be good t’go home by tomorrow.’

Joel just nods and murmurs a thank you to Jeremy as he leaves the room. His eyes find yours, and you can easily clock his frustration.

“I know you don’t wanna stay here baby, but it’s for your health,” you reason, sitting down next to him again. He reaches out for your hand and grabs it, bringing it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles.

“Y’know, I heard you talkin’ to your mom,” he says, eyes softening as you scoot closer to his bed. Your knees were touching the mattress now, and you were so close to him that you could feel the warmth radiating off of his body.

“Oh, yeah,” you start, huffing a laugh. “She’s worried about you, but I told her you were fine. My family will probably want to come visit you sometime after they release you.”

He smiles at that. “I’d love that. And, if I’m bein’ honest here…”

He looks at you with a certainty you’ve never seen before. Then it clicks—how much did he hear before? Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you wait for his next words, the anticipation nearly sending you spiraling.

“I heard what you said before your mom called you too, and sweetheart, I love you too. Kinda a weird place to say it for the first time to your face,” he chuckles, inhaling sharply at the pain. He still has a grin on his face that you’ll never get tired of seeing, and you can’t help but smile brightly at him.

“Joel, I—wait, did you say to my face?” You ask, raising a brow at him.

“Yeah uh, I kinda said it right after our first night together at the hotel. The night of your sister’s weddin’. I think you’d already fallen asleep, though.”

“No fucking way,” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. He looks confused and frowns before you lean forward and press your lips gently to his, feeling the absolute emotion and passion behind such a simple, much needed kiss.

“I wanted to tell you then, too—that amazing morning we spent together before we went down to breakfast with my family. I’d been thinking about it all morning, and this whole week, actually. I wanted to tell you when I got to see you next.”

“‘M glad you feel the same way, darlin’. ‘M absolutely crazy about you,” he says, and you can’t help but gush at his confession.

“I love you, Joel,” you say with finality, and he grins widely.

“I love you too, baby,” he squeezes your hand and tugs you toward him for one final, searing kiss before the room door opens. You and him separate and turn to see Sarah, Tommy and Maria all entering the room.

“Dad!” Sarah exclaims, giving him a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey there pumpkin,” he says, wrapping his arms around her the best he can.

“Had us all scared there for a minute, brother,” Tommy chimes in, nudging his bed with his boot.

“I’ll be fine,” Joel grumbles, sighing.

“Glad you’re okay, Joel,” Maria says, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek.

“Thank you. And thank y’all for bein’ here,” Joel says.

“There’s no place else we’d be than right by your side, Joel,” you smile at him endearingly, and the other three nod their head in agreement.

“I appreciate y’all,” Joel’s gaze shifts to Tommy, “Can’t wait for Cap to put my ass through the wringer for this one.”

It elicits a laugh from Tommy, and he shakes his head before pointing his thumb at the door.

“Nah. Poor bastard was scared as hell. Whole crew is waitin’ out there for ya,”

“Shit, really?”

Tommy nods. “Mhm, but the doctor said only four people at a time can be in here to visit ya.”

“We should give the others a chance to see him,” you suggest, looking at the three.

“Took the words right out my mouth, lil lady,” Tommy chuckles, and you flash him a grin.

You look at Joel and grab his hand, giving it one more gentle squeeze. He gives you a lopsided smile and you lean down one last time to kiss his forehead, and he murmurs those three words that make your heart unabashedly skip a beat.

“I love you sweetheart.”

“I love you too, cowboy,” you wink at him and he huffs a laugh, slowly letting go of your hand. He gives Sarah one last hug and a kiss on the cheek before you all head back out to the waiting room. The rest of the team looks at you four as you all walk out, and three of them get sent back to see him.

Their captain stops to talk to Tommy for a bit before he heads back as well while you, Sarah and Maria take a seat again.

“So you finally said it, huh?” Maria nudges you, wiggling her brows. Your face heats and you look down at the frayed part of your jeans, trying to hide a shy smile.

“Yeah,” you confess.

“I’m so happy for you. You deserve this so much,” she says, and you smile and lean into her side hug.

“Thank you for encouraging me to stop being afraid of what I really feel. It’s about time I just stop cowering away and just let myself…feel,” you say.

“That’s what friends are for. You ever need a pep talk, I’m your girl.”

You both laugh at that, settling into a comfortable silence before Sarah taps you on the arm.

You look her way and offer her a smile, which she mirrors right back to you.

“Would you, uh, mind staying the weekend at our house?” She asks, and there’s a shyness to her voice that you instantly clock. You offer her a reassuring smile, silently vowing to her that you’d be there for her no matter what.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’d love to.”

You kept your word and stayed at the Miller’s house for the weekend. Joel was set to be discharged Sunday morning which thankfully came faster than expected. By the time you and Sarah got situated and wrangled him home, he was ushered to the couch to relax his body.

You were sitting next to him while a Cowboys game was playing on the TV, silently watching the end of the first quarter. Sarah was finishing some homework upstairs and Tommy and Maria were on their way for a Sunday night family dinner.

Tommy insisted on grilling some steaks tonight while you and Maria made some sides.

“Can I lay my head on your lap, baby?” Joel’s voice is soft, and he looks at you with those big, brown pleading eyes that make you melt in an instant.

You almost want to giggle at how cute he looks.

“Sure honey,” you scoot your body over before he slowly lays himself down, situating his head on your lap. He closes his eyes for a second before inhaling as much as he can without hurting himself, opening his eyes and fixating his gaze on you. You stare at each other like that for a moment before you bend down and give him a chaste kiss.

You try to separate yourself from him, but he puts his hand on the back of your head gently to keep you there. You can’t help but smile against his lips and kiss him again, a little bit longer this time, before you move your head up slightly.

“Don’t exert yourself too much now, Mr. Miller,” you tease, and he scoffs against your lips.

“If I wanna kiss my lady, ‘m gonna kiss her until my face turns blue,” he says, and you laugh at his fake stern tone. “‘Sides, it’s the only action I’m gonna be gettin’ for awhile anyway.”

Your jaw drops as you stare down at him. “Joel Miller!” You can’t help but laugh, “You’re an insatiable man, y’know that?” You take the liberty of running your fingers through his soft locks, and he closes his eyes for a brief second in comfort.

“What? ‘S true,” he pouts, and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t be so dramatic, cowboy. Maybe you’ll get a little something from me soon enough.”

“You gonna give me some sugar, sugar?” He grins proudly at his lame joke and you huff a laugh.

“Only if you behave. Gotta wait a little while longer, though. Doctor’s orders.”

“You’re really gonna make me wait?”

“Mhm. Learn some patience and keep it in your pants,” you giggle, and the irony of it all is that Joel is literally the most patient man you know. His laid back personality is every indication of patience, but it’s funny to see him squirm a little at the prospect of you taking care of him without having to have him exert himself in any way.

“It’s hard when I got a beautiful, lovin’ lady such as yourself.”

“Joel Miller, are you flirting with me?” You try to hold back your laugh, and he squints his eyes at you.

“And what if I was? Is it workin’?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and you can’t help but fully laugh this time. Fuck, you really love this man.

“Maybe. Means I’m not going anywhere, cowboy. You’re stuck with me,” you say, and he tugs you down for another sweet kiss.

“That’s fine by me. Hey, uh, speakin’ of not goin’ anywhere—” he pauses, looking like he’s trying to find the right words to say. “Would you mind stayin’ here while I heal up? Sarah n’ I would both love it if you’d stay here with us for the time bein’ if ‘s not an imposition, of course.”

You answer him almost immediately, trying not to sound too eager. “I don’t mind at all,” you say, “I know my boss wanted us to move remotely anyways, so it works out.” Your boss telling your whole department they were going to move strictly to remote work truly couldn’t have come at a better time, you think.

“I can also take Sarah to school and soccer practice for the time being too,” you offer, and a swirl of excitement settles deep into your bones at the thought of the domesticity of it all. You try not to think about it, but there’s something about spending consecutive days with the person you love that drives your heart into a frenzy.

“You’d do that?” His voice is soft, hopeful. You nod, brushing your fingers through his curls once more.

“You’re too good to me, woman,” he groans, bringing you down for one last kiss. You can’t help but smile against his lips, whispering right back to him.

“And you’re too good to me.”

It didn’t take long for all of you to fall into a routine. Mondays are hectic but manageable as you usher Sarah out of the door just in time to drive her to school. Tuesdays are for school and soccer practice, making a quick and easy dinner to appease everyone. Wednesdays are for school and tutoring, because Sarah is wickedly smart, but geometry seemed to take a toll on her. Thursdays are the same as Tuesdays, and Fridays are the days you all decide if it’ll be takeout or pizza for dinner.

Tommy and Maria will occasionally pop in and help with dinner once in a while, which is always a nice surprise. Your family visited too, checking in on Joel to make sure he’s okay. Your mom even made a pot of ‘get well soon soup’, as she likes to call it.

It’s now week three at the Miller household for you and you feel like you practically live here at this point. Well, in a way, you sorta do.

It’s just until Joel heals fully, though. Then it’s back to the regular routine—something you almost forgot about; what it was like before you brought some of your stuff over to Joel and Sarah’s.

You don’t know how it’ll feel to go back to a bed with an empty side on it, void of Joel and his comforting scent and warmth. You don’t know how it’ll feel to be back to stark quietness, no morning rushes or scrambling of eggs for three or showing off your pancake flipping skills that elicits excited laughs and rounds of applause.

If you were being completely honest with yourself, you didn’t want to go back to your apartment. You haven’t constantly been in a house so full of laughter and love since you left your parents to live on your own over a decade ago.

It’s funny, you think. You were so okay with being alone, so okay with pushing people away to ‘protect your own peace’ as you’d called it, so okay in your own little bubble—when in reality, you were sabotaging every potential relationship that had come your way.

After Christian, those feelings of doubt and isolation crept in and slowly sank its claws in you, and for a while, you were so content with just being by yourself—so much so that you’d already accepted the fact that you’d probably be alone forever.

And then Joel came along. This man has single handedly turned your whole world around, and you can’t get enough of him. He’s everything you’ve dreamed of and more. You don’t know what possessed you to make the first move a couple of months back at Rosemary’s, but you’re so fucking glad you did.

You probably wouldn’t be here in this warm house with the most loving man right now if you didn’t.

It’s another Tuesday at the Miller household, and Joel squeezes your shoulders to break you from your wandering mind.

You look up at him from your seat and give him a tired smile, looking back down at the steaming cup of coffee he placed in front of you.

“Penny for your thoughts, pretty lady?” He asks, kissing your cheek before sitting down next to you.

You know you were too chicken to tell him your real thoughts, so you made something up.

“Your birthday’s this weekend,” you state matter-of-factly. Okay, truthfully, it’s been on your mind for days, so it isn’t something totally made up. It seemed to work though as Joel groans and tips his head back.

“Don’t remind me,” he shakes his head with a chuckle, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Oh c’mon, let me plan a little something for you,” you pout, as if you didn’t already have a plan in mind that his family, your family and his friends knew about.

“My sweet girl, you don’t have to do that. Not exactly thrilled at celebratin’ turnin’ a year older.”

“But I want to, Mr. Miller,” you tease, and he groans. “Besides, you deserve to be celebrated.”

“You know what that does to me when you call me that,” he shifts in his seat and you have to stifle a laugh at how fast this man gets turned on by you. He doesn’t comment on the second half of your statement, which you decidedly let go of.

The feeling of power and seduction sinks her gnarly little teeth into your very being, and you can’t help but feel proud that you’re the one who makes him feel this way. Maybe slight possession wiggles her way in between power and seduction, nestling herself comfortably between the two.

“Alright alright, I’ll stop teasing. For now,” you say, quirking a brow as you point a finger at him. He leans forward and nips his teeth gently at the tip of your finger,

kissing it right after. He’s sporting a boyish grin when you look at him, and you roll your eyes with a smile before the chair scrapes against the floor as you get up, looking at your watch-clad wrist.

“Time to clock in.”

“Don’t be too long, darlin.’ I’ll miss that pretty face an awful lot.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible flirt?” You tease him, knowing damn well he isn’t.

“What I lack in flirting I make up for in other areas,” he smirks, giving your ass a slap as you walk past him. You fake-glare at him and he tosses his head back as a deep laugh rumbles from his chest, and you admire him so.

Fuck, you think. It’s going to be really hard going back to things as they were before.

A few days later, and you‘re basking in the way the golden rays of the autumn sun hit your skin through the blinds in Joel’s room. You aren’t fully awake yet, but you can feel Joel’s strong chest pressed securely against your back.

His grip on you is tight—protective, in a sense. It doesn’t waver when he begins to press soft, wet kisses against your shoulder, moving the strap of your nightie down as his kisses trail further up your neck.

He brings his mouth up to your ear, nibbling on your lobe a tiny bit before moving his hands up your torso to palm at your breasts.

You hum in response, your brain fuzzy and still trying to catch up to what was going on in reality. He tweaked your hardened buds through the satin you wore, and you instantly melted into the palms of his large, warm hands.

“Mornin’ honey,” he whispers, dragging his lips down your jugular. You hum again, slowly blinking your eyes open. You squint as the sun directly hits your eyes for a second before you stretch, hands above your head. The movement caused the satin material to slide up your thighs, exposing your bare bottom half.

Joel groans in response, and he flips you over onto your back before his sweet brown eyes meet yours—except his eyes were riddled with pure mischief. He wore a smirk to match, and you wrap your arms around the back of his neck before carding your fingers through his soft curls.

“Morning handsome,” you say, voice soft and full of sleep. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you beautiful,” the tenderness in his voice matches yours, but he takes one glance down your body before you feel his hardening length against your thigh. You stifle a laugh and bite your lip, excitement swirling in your bones.

You’ve touched Joel in the past few weeks—handjobs in the shower, morning head every so often—but you haven’t gone beyond that while he’s been healing up. You didn’t mind, obviously, but you can tell it’s been bothering him.

The thing about Joel, well, he’s a giver. And when he can’t provide what he wants to give, it drives him fucking nuts. You could easily see the frustration brewing within his features when he wanted to give you more, but he couldn’t exert himself. Doctor’s orders.

His lips trail down the satin material and he pulls it down where your breasts lay, exposing them to himself. He hums in delight and envelopes a pert bud into his mouth, closing his eyes as he licks and sucks.

You sigh in contentment, hips involuntarily bucking up. Guess you’re a lot more needy than you thought.

“Shouldn’t I be the one taking care of you? It’s your day, after all,” You’re breathless, arching your back off the mattress.

He releases your nipple with a small pop before his brown eyes meet yours once again. “It’s been drivin’ me crazy not bein’ able to please you the way I want—the way I know you deserve to be pleased.”

“But Joel, that wasn’t your fault. You were healing up from a terrible accident,” you reason, and he grunts.

“Still doesn’t mean I didn’t miss doin’ this,” he trails off, moving his lips down your torso as he slides his hands up your body to push the satin up.

The cold air of the bedroom hits your core and you gasp, eyes falling shut as you loll your head back.

He runs his hands back down to your thighs, digging his fingers into your hot skin before prying your legs open a bit further. He tosses your thighs over his shoulders and gives you the most devilish grin you think you’ve ever seen from him as you force yourself to look at him again.

He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he leans forward, kissing your aching, puffy core a few times before finally sticking his tongue out to lick a long stripe from your entrance to your clit.

Only then does he close his eyes in what seems to be pure ecstasy, groaning to himself as he gets lost in his own words and indulges in you.

You clamp a hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet, knowing that Sarah was right down the hall and Tommy and Maria were in the guest bedroom. They did not need to hear this.

Joel doesn’t relent and his thick muscle works you incredulously. He’s giving your clit kitten licks before sucking it into his mouth, not caring to be quiet with his ministrations. You’re gasping for air behind your hand as you feel that familiar warmth blooming in your belly already.

You realize you hadn’t even touched yourself in weeks, being too busy with work and taking Sarah to school and her extracurricular activities while simultaneously making sure Joel was okay and healing properly. Your want and desire was shoved all the way down, filed away and forgotten about until this very morning.

You can’t help it—your other hand goes flying to his curls as you begin to rock your hips against his mouth. God, he’s so fucking good at this. He hums against you with a chuckle and prods his tongue into you, fucking you with it.

Your eyes roll to the back of your skull and you have to bite down on your lip hard in order not to scream. Fuck, you wish you were back in that hotel room right now so you can be as loud as you want.

He continues to lick up and down your slit at a torturous pace after, making sure to tease your clit with the tiniest little flick at the tip of his tongue.

You’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm, and you whisper behind your hand don’t stop, don't stop, god, don’t stop before your thighs lock around his head and your body starts to twitch under his hold.

You have to shove your face into a pillow as you moan loudly into it, tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

And the thing is, he doesn’t fucking stop. In fact, he slides two fingers into you and curls them in a ‘come here’ motion, and your brain goes absolutely blank.

You squeeze your eyes shut and you’re seeing stars, body shaking so hard you feel like you’re rocking the whole damn bed. Then there’s a strange sensation—you feel like it’s perhaps a stronger orgasm, but with the feeling of needing to pee.

You toss the pillow off of your face to warn Joel to stop, but it’s too late. You’re fucking gushing around his mouth and fingers, clear liquid coating the bottom half of his face and the sheets beneath him. The squelching sound is so loud that you think this is what’ll get you both caught.

You’re gasping for air as you toss your head back on the mattress, body now completely limp. Joel slowly slides his fingers out of you before licking one up himself, moving up the mattress to hover over you before he takes his other hand and opens your jaw before slipping his finger into your mouth. You obediently suck, and you can feel his cock twitch in his sweats at that.

It’s a tangy-sweet taste, and you hum around his finger before peeling your eyes open as you try and even out your breathing.

“Always taste like a dream, baby,” he says, leaning down to kiss you. You taste yourself on his tongue and you moan into his mouth, reaching down to rub his cock through the fabric.

He all but growls into your mouth, rocking his hips into your hand. You gently force him to lay down after you separate your lips from his, smiling down at him before kissing his nose, then shuffle his sweats down his thighs.

To your delight, he isn’t wearing boxers. His delicious length is rock-hard, pre-come leaking from the slit. You thumb it and bring it up to your mouth for a little taste before you start to shuffle your body down the bed.

Joel catches your elbow though and gives you a pleading look. “I need to feel you, baby. Please,” his voice is a desperate whisper. How could you possibly say no to that?

You move back up again and straddle his hips, grabbing his cock before pumping the silky flesh a couple of times. You swipe his head between your folds and you both moan, all furrowed brows and bitten lips.

You finally sink down onto him, and Joel’s hands fly to your hips. He keeps you steady there for a second, and you can literally feel him pulsing inside of you. You have to bite your knuckle to keep from groaning his name.

“God, fuck—goddammit, you feel so fucking good,” he croaks, and you lean down to kiss him. He responds hungrily, hands roaming your body furiously before they settle on your ass. He squeezes your pillowy flesh, kneading it before slowly moving you up on his cock. You sink back down onto him after he nearly slips out of you, and you hiss at the intoxicating sensation.

“Fucking love your cock, Joel,” you whine, “I love you.”

“I–I, oh, fuck me, I love you too.”

His resolve totally crumbles as he gets lost in the feeling of your warmth wrapped so tightly around him, stretching beautifully and taking him so well. Like you were fucking made for him. And you are, you think.

“Yeah?” You ask, trying to be a tease but you can barely even concentrate yourself.

“Mhm. So fuckin’ lucky you’re all mine. ‘M the luckiest bastard alive,” he huffs, and you lean down to lick up his neck and suck a little on his pulse point. Not too hard, though, because god knows you two’d get teased to no end by both your families. It’s hard not to get too lost into it, though. You pull yourself back with the very little self restraint you have.

“I think you got it twisted, cowboy. I’m the lucky one,” you moan into his ear, kissing his temple afterward. “Thank you for loving me the way you do.”

He can’t help but groan at your words. You pick up the pace of your hips, planting your knees firmly on the mattress so you can start riding him for real. You set a relentless pace as you sit up straight, tossing your head back in pure ecstasy.

Your head lolls forward again and you look down at Joel who’s looking at you with such desperation in his eyes.

“Can I—fuck, I can’t believe I’m askin’ this,” he grabs your hips, slowing you down a beat. “Can I take a picture of you like this? On top ‘a me? Won’t get offended if you say no,” he’s cautious with his words, and you have to stifle a laugh. The amount of times you’ve thought about asking him to record you both fucking each other is actually ridiculous, even though this is only the third time.

“I’ll do you one better. Why don’t you take a video,” you send him a wink, and his cock twitches once more. You raise the nightie over your head, tossing it beside you on the bed. He groans at the sight of your naked body above him.

You bite your lip and look down at him, and he doesn’t waste another second before fumbling his phone off of the night stand, ignoring the plethora of texts he’s got, probably all wishing him a happy birthday.

His hands are a bit shaky, but he finally gets situated and hits record. You continue to ride him, putting on a little show for the camera as you move your hips in a seductive way. You smile down at Joel and give him a wink, picking up your pace.

You’re sure the camera frame is all skin slapping against skin and your breasts bouncing wildly as you ride him, and he can’t help the moans and whimpers that slip past his lips. He reaches up and gropes your breasts, tweaking your nipples between his thumb and forefinger once more.

You feel more of your slick arousal pool out of you at the sensation, and you know you’ve got him drenched with you.

“Fuck, Joel, you always feel so damn good,” you whine.

“Yeah? Who’s pretty pussy is this?” He asks, reaching down to rub your swollen clit. You cry out, biting the back of your hand to try your best to stay as quiet as possible, which you’re sure you’re doing terribly at.

“Yours, baby. All yours,” you confess, switching to a grinding motion. You both moan in unison as you circle your hips while giving yourself that extra friction. You feel the familiar bloom in the pit of your core, and you don’t know how much longer you’re going to last.

He needs to come first.

“Fuck, please don’t stop. I’m close,” Joel grits, and you do exactly as he says. “Where do you want me?” His voice sounds so small, so strained.

Your head snaps up and you look him in the eyes as you shoot him a wicked grin.

“In me.”

And that’s that. He comes instantly, body stilling as he pumps you full. You moan as you grind against him a few more times before you’re coming, too.

You’re both breathless and dazed as he stops recording, tossing his phone back onto the nightstand. You slip off of him and he instantly pulls you into him, covering you both with the comforter. He lifts his hips and tucks himself back into his sweats, nuzzling his face into your neck as he breathes you in.

“Best way to start my birthday,” he says, and you grin and nudge him gently.

“What the birthday boy wants, he gets,” you say, tipping his chin up for a chaste kiss.

“What he wants is to stay in bed with you all day.”

“I wish I could give you that too, handsome, but I’ve got a party to throw and you’re the guest of honor.”

He quirks a brow. “Guest of honor in my own home?”

You nod with a grin. “Mhm. So c’mon,” you tap his arm, “Up n’ at ‘em.”

“Five more minutes,” he groans, burying his face into your chest. He leaves soft kisses there, and you bring your hands up to cradle the back of his head and scratch his scalp.

“Fine. Five more minutes.”

That five minutes turned into forty five, with Tommy knocking on Joel’s door to shout “Happy birthday you old fucker! Get up!”

And now you’re all prepping for the party, telling Joel to sit and do nothing. He can’t have that, though, so he helps Tommy prep the grill for the burgers and chicken vegetable kabobs.

Sarah decorates the backyard while you and Maria dance around each other in the kitchen to prep some side dishes. Joel also requested that you make your chocolate chip cookies he loves so much, so you were eyeing them in the oven while you chopped up some iceberg lettuce for salad.

The doorbell rings, and you halt your chopping. You glance at the door before setting the knife down and wiping your hands before making your way over to open it up.

Your whole family stands there, and you immediately smile and hug them one-by-one before ushering them into the house.

“Maria, this is my mom Alexandria, my dad Michael, sister Emily, my brother-in-law Josh, and my brothers Andrew and Cole,” you point to everyone as you go down the line. “Everyone, this is my good friend Maria,” Maria beams a bright smile at them.

“Nice to meet y’all, I’ve heard lots of wonderful things,” she says, and Cole snorts.

“Shadow was just probably tryin’ to be nice,” he teases, and you roll your eyes.

“Dude, shut up,” you say, and Maria laughs.

“Oh, he’s funny. Tommy’ll love him,” she says.

“They already have a ‘bromance’ going with Joel,” you shudder at the words, “I’m sure they’ll get Tommy, too.”

“Not our fault we’re all funny and good looking,” Andy ran a hand on the side of his head in a slick-back motion.

“God, you two are idiots,” Emily chimes in, and your mom and dad laugh at the childish banter.

“Okay, okay, enough all of you,” your mom steps in, putting the tin foil pan on the counter.

��Go say hi to your boyfriend. He’s in the backyard,” you tease Andy and Cole, and Andy holds up a twenty-four pack of Modelo.

“Glady,” he’s got that smug smile on his face, and you huff a laugh. “C’mon Josh,” Andy nods his head out to the backyard where Joel and Tommy stand.

“Don’t corrupt my husband please!” Emily calls out as they step through the sliding glass door, giving Joel a wave as him and Tommy turn their heads.

“No promises!” Cole calls back, and they all follow them out to the backyard like a pack of wolves. Your attention is torn away as the oven beeps. You pull the cookies out, resting the tray on the counter before looking back outside.

You sigh and give Maria a nudge. “Let’s go rally the troops,” and she laughs as she follows you out to the backyard.

“I feel like I need to do a line-up military style to introduce all of you,” you say, and Joel and Tommy chuckle. Sarah sidles up beside you, giving you a grin.

“Hey sweetheart,” you say, looking around the backyard. “Everything looks amazing.”

She takes a half-bow. “I try, I try,” she says, and everyone laughs.

It takes a few minutes for you to introduce everybody to Sarah and Tommy, but once everyone is familiar with one another, they all get to mingling. Joel, Tommy, your dad and brothers crack a bottle open and gather around the grill while the women head inside, finishing up the last of the food. Sarah went up to her room to freshen up, which just left you, Maria, Emily, and your mom.

“So, Emi, how was Costa Rica? It looked beautiful,” you ask, plating the cookies before putting Saran Wrap over them.

“Oh my god, it was wonderful. The pictures I sent y’all didn’t even do it justice,” she swoons, putting her chin in the palm of her hand as she rests her elbow on the countertop.

“Am I getting grandbabies anytime soon?” Your mom asks, and you and Emily share a look.

“Mom, really?” You laugh, shaking your head.

“Hey! I ain’t getting any younger here, and it’ll probably be a couple of years before you and Joel start having any—”

You cut her off. “Mom, please. Don’t even go there.”

She huffs and puts her hands on her hips.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, mom, Josh and I didn’t use any contraceptives on this trip,” Emily says, and your mom’s eyes go wide.

“I’m gonna get a grand baby!” She dances in place, making the three of you laugh.

Emily shrugs with a smile. “Guess we’ll find out.”

A few hours later, the party was in full swing as everyone you’d invited was gathered in the backyard, laughing and talking amongst themselves. You made it a point to invite people at the firehouse he was close with, thanks to the help from Tommy.

“There’s my pretty lady,” Joel says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder before bringing you into his side. He kisses your temple gently before smiling at you. “Thank you for,” he gestures with his hand that was holding a Modelo, pointing the neck of the bottle into the crowd. “All of this. It means a lot that you’d do this for me.”

You offer him a soft smile. “Of course, Joel. You deserve to be celebrated.”

He leans down to give you a kiss. You wrap your arm around his waist, pulling him tighter into you. You pull away before prying eyes can catch you getting carried away because you know you get so caught up in the moment with him.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” You ask, putting a hand on his chest.

He nods and flashes you a soft grin. “I am, but y’know what I wish I was doin’ right now?” His voice lowers a couple of octaves, and that tone shoots straight to your core.

“I have an idea,” you say, trying to ignore the intense throb between your legs.

“Wishin’ I was buried between those pretty thighs of yours.”

He squeezes your hip and your eyes flutter shut for a few seconds, having half a mind to drag him upstairs into his bedroom so he can pound you into his mattress.

Your delicious fantasy dissipates as soon as you hear Tommy and Andy howling of laughter.

“Looks like our brothers are hitting it off,” you observantly say.

Joel nods. “Yeah, actually. The guys wanted to go out for beers next weekend. Told you it was the start of a beautiful bromance.”

You shoot Joel a look. “The guys? As in you, your brother and my brothers?”

He nods, and you can’t help but huff a laugh. “Well, have fun, and be careful. Don’t let them talk you into anything stupid. Don’t need another broken rib,” you roll your eyes teasingly, bumping your hip to him.

You grab his beer bottle from his hand, taking a swig of it before handing it back to him. He has that boyish grin on his face again and it’s so contagious.

“Definitely don’t want another one ‘a those. Shit still hurts when I turn a certain way.”

“I didn’t hurt you earlier, did I?” Your voice is lower now, referring to the lovely morning you two spent in his bed together.

“Not at all. Would’a said somethin’ if you did. Promise,” he says, kissing your temple.

“Well it won’t be too long before you’re all healed up.” And you have to go back to your apartment, drowning in the once-loved loneliness.

You dread it now, and you don’t know how to bring it up to him.

“Hey sis. Great party you threw,” Andy comes up to you and Joel, giving you a rare grin of appreciation.

“How drunk are you?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Can’t I compliment you without you thinking I’m under the influence?” He frowns at you, nudging your side.

“I guess so. Thanks, Andy,” you say, and he waves you off.

“Yeah yeah. Don’t get used to it.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes right back at him. “Wasn’t gonna.”

“Anyway, lemme steal my boyfriend back since you so rudely kept him to yourself for a long time,” Andy says, grinning at Joel.

Joel can’t help but laugh and shake his head, and if it could, his forehead would have ‘dear god help me’ scrawled across it.

The party went on for a couple more hours after that, the crowd slowly fizzling out. Everyone helped clean the backyard until it was spotless, and by the time everyone left except for you, Joel, and Sarah, it was nearly midnight.

You’d just finished brushing your teeth and washing your face before you climbed into Joel’s comfy bed, snuggling into his side as he pulled you closer to him. You start to trace small patterns on his warm chest with your fingertips, soaking in every moment you have while being beside him.

You don’t know how you’re gonna give this up. It honestly scares you how attached you’ve gotten to Joel.

And, well, for god sakes, you love the man—and he loves you. Being beside him these past few weeks has truthfully filled a void in your life that’s been empty for so long. Now that it’s fulfilled and you’re the one experiencing what love is really supposed to feel like for the first time in your life, you’re struggling with the prospect of being alone again at your own place.

You know you can come to Joel’s house at any time and vice versa, but it’s just not the same as being able to wake up in his arms every morning. It’s not the same as being able to go to sleep and the last thing you see is his beautiful face, smiling at you tiredly as his brown eyes droop closed. It’s not the same as having hectic but amazing mornings as you brew coffee for two, getting Sarah out of the house in time to take her to school.

God, you sound so clingy. Maybe you’re just overthinking this, like, a lot. Maybe Maria or Emily can give their input on this—

“Thank you for the party today, baby. Made my day so special and I can’t thank you enough for doin’ this for me.”

Joel’s deep, velvety voice pulls you from your thoughts. You smile at him tiredly, reaching a hand out to run through his curls before settling it on his cheek, swiping your thumb back and forth.

“I’d do anything for you, Joel Miller,” you lean in and kiss the tip of his nose.

“What did I do to deserve you?” His voice is a mere whisper as he moves his face closer to yours.

“You’re unapologetically yourself and you let me love you the way you deserve to be loved,” you answer as if it’s the most simple and obvious thing in the world.

“My dream woman,” he grins, giving you a kiss. “I love you.”

You’ll never get tired of hearing him say that.

“I love you too.”

And while he’s drifting off to sleep, you’re left with your anxious thoughts swirling your mind—ones that make you want to cower away and push push push, but you won’t allow it.

Not this time.

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3ardnpc · 2 months ago

Text

Mammon finally discovers what—who—you’re hiding from him.

TAGS: mammon x reader x lucifer, smut, angst, jealousy, accidental voyeurism, threesome, fingering, oral, rough sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, 18+ MDNI, 4.3k

A/N: another repost from my old blog! Even tho mammon is my fave I cant help but make him suffer just a little bit

part 2

You’re nervous and he can tell, just like he can tell when someone’s bluffing in poker. It's the way your eyes sweep across the room on anything but him. It’s the way you clutch your DDD in both hands against your chest like there’s a secret to hide on it.

Ever since you landed in the Devildom, disheveled and confused, he was begrudgingly assigned to be your guardian demon and what kind of guardian would he be if he couldn’t tell when you're distressed? He’s The Great Mammon after all!

But too bad The Great Mammon can’t seem to get you to spill your guts no matter how long he stands and pesters you. He thought being your first and spending so much time together, practically attached at the hip, you’d trust him a little more with your secrets. It stings that you can’t confide in him fully yet.

Not that he’d ever admit any mere human could make him feel this way!

“I’m not lettin’ ya leave the room till ya tell me!”

You let out a breath of air, bordering between exasperated and tired. “Come on, Mammon, I’m not hiding anything.”

At that moment your DDD chimes with a text alert and your cheeks darken and eyes turn down in shame. Your eyes drift again.

“Gonna answer that or what?” He tries peering at your phone, but you step back. He can’t help the clammy feeling in his palms as theories run wild in his mind.

Could it be a boyfriend? You’d never date some lower level demon from RAD, you can hardly stand being alone in a room with one for fear of them stealing your soul. A boyfriend from the human world perhaps? Or even, the only other human in the exchange program, Solomon? That shady sorcerer could have seduced you for some nefarious purpose and you might’ve fallen for it. If you did, Mammon wouldn’t hesitate to hunt and tear Solomon apart if he hurt you.

And it couldn’t be any of his annoying brothers. If you were dating any of his brothers he’d know… right? And if you were going to date any of his brothers, it’d be him, right?

You’re his human, after all.

“Gonna have your nose in my business all day or what?” You retort.

“Hmph,” he shoves his hands in his pockets and takes a small step back, “just wonderin’.”

You tuck your DDD into the coat pocket of your RAD uniform and regard Mammon with curiosity. “What did you need anyway?”

Oh yeah, he almost forgot why he had even approached you in the first place.

“I may or may not owe a few demons.”

“I’m not lending you anymore Grimm, Mammon.”

“Come on! I wasn’t gonna ask ya that!”

He was.

You cross your arms and tsk, “what happened to the money you earned working part-time?”

Mammon huffs, not in the mood to explain how he lost it all after a disappointing night at the casino.

A familiar ring interrupts the conversation and he recognizes it as your ringtone. After two rings, and his intense blue stare, you give in and he watches as you pull it from your pocket and read the screen.

Your eyes light up, the same way Beels’ light up when he sees an extra large plate of deep fried bat wings.

A twinge of jealousy strikes him. Did you ever get that excited when his name came up on your phone? Oh no, he felt like Levi. The green tendrils of envy creep onto his heart without warning and he tries swallowing it.

“You scummy, good for nothing idiot! Where's my limited edition, glow in the dark, space-themed Ruri-chan figurine?! I know you took her!” Levi barks when he comes barreling into the living room. Speak of the devil. “I want her back now! Your scummyness probably rubbed off on my precious Ruri-chan!”

Mammon moves behind you for futile protection from the oncoming wrath of the third born. He clutches onto your shoulders like a life raft.

“Oi, I didn’t steal nothin’!”

He did and the damn thing didn’t even sell for much.

“Liar!”

Mammon hears your melodic laugh as you pry his hands off, your phone still ringing and he finally gets a view of the caller on your screen.

It’s Lucifer.

Why the hell are you getting so excited over Lucifer of all demons calling you? Do you like being lectured for hours, constantly reprimanded and berated? Are you that much of a masochist and he just hasn’t realized it yet?

“Don’t ignore me! If she’s not back in my arms by tomorrow I’ll lock you in a room with Cerberus.”

You swipe to answer your DDD and say to Mammon before departing, “you’re on your own.”

Mammon helplessly watches you go, giggling on the phone as you say hello to Lucifer.

—

The hour-long rant Mammon received from Levi was a pain. Not only does he have to pay off his debt to those demons at the casino, but now he has to buy back Levi’s figurine.

He figured he could just steal a few things no one would miss and sell them. That annoying TSL soundtrack that Lucifer always has on could probably sell for something. He could make some money and never have to hear those songs reverberate off the walls again.

He can just blame Lucifer when the album is suddenly ‘lost’. Though, there’s no way anyone would believe The Lucifer lost something, but that detail isn’t important right now. He needs the Grimm.

Mammon knocks on Lucifer’s bedroom just to check if his older brother is there. Lucifer knows when Mammon knocks and ignores answering. So Mammon has gotten good at straining his ears to listen to any signs of papers rustling or a pen scratching, but there’s nothing tonight. Lucifer’s door, although usually locked specifically to keep him out, is surprisingly unlocked when Mammon turns it.

The gothic and immaculate room is empty. So far so good for Mammon. He gets to work shuffling through each and every drawer and shelf, searching for anything valuable to pocket.

The door knob to the en-suite bathroom twists and in a panic, Mammon dives into the nearby wardrobe and shuts the door, leaving a tiny sliver open to peek out of. All he can really see from this angle is Lucifer’s ridiculously massive bed. He always wondered why his older brother needed a large bed. Lucifer himself may be a tall demon, but not tall enough to warrant such a wide bed.

Probably to fit him and his huge ego, Mammon thinks. He almost chuckles at his own joke if not for seeing you tip-toeing up to the bed fresh out of the bathroom.

You’ve changed out of your RAD uniform. A red silk robe hangs loosely over your shoulders instead. You glance around the room, probably checking for some sign of Lucifer, an adorably innocent expression on your face. You’re clueless to Mammon’s presence stuffed inside the closet.

He wants to jump out and ask what in the Devildom you're doing in Lucifer’s room, but he can’t move. He can’t even seem to catch his breath inside the suffocating closet.

Only one real question runs through his mind: why? Why are you in Lucifer’s room? Why are you wearing that?

He watches you crawl onto the bed, running your hands over the black, satin sheets. A satisfied hum leaves your lips when you settle against the headboard, shifting until you find a comfortable position. Your hands fall into your lap, idly playing with the hem of your robe, and a content smile rests on your face.

“And what’s this?”

Mammon, so absorbed in watching you, didn’t notice the sound of Lucifer walking into his bedroom. You perk up at the sound of Lucifer’s voice, moving to a kneeling position on the bed.

“A surprise,” you say, but your tone is not one Mammon’s familiar with. It’s seductive and tempting like an incubi’s, only sweeter and it’s coming from you. He wishes those words were directed at him, and him only, not Lucifer.

“Oh, really?” Comes Lucifer’s cool response.

Damn bastard, Mammon curses in his head, tempted to pop out of the closet just to wack his older brother in the back of the head. Is that really all ya got to say when she's dressed up for ya in bed?

His teeth clench, a growl forming in the back of his throat. It’s just like Lucifer to sound unappreciative when he’s got such a perfect human all to himself.

“You called me to come meet you in your room. I thought I should dress up.”

Your nimble fingers pull apart the knot on the front of your robe and it slides easily off your shoulders. Your body is almost naked except for the lacy black underwear and bra. It reveals more skin than Mammon ever thought he’d see, and his greedy eyes only want to see more. His strains to look through the opening.

Mammon watches you boldly pull on Lucifer’s red tie to bring his face closer, his lips barely grazing yours. He sees the slight smirk and hungry red eyes on Lucifer.

“Don’t you like it? It’s just for you, Lucifer.”

Just for you.

Those words punch Mammon in the gut. This isn’t for him to see. He shouldn’t even be here, shouldn’t even know about your secret relationship. But you two are close, right? You can tell him anything. He’s your first, after all.

“I don’t think you deserve any praise. Do you know why?”

You shake your head, a pout on your lips from Lucifer’s rejection.

“Because you let that pest in.”

Before he can react to Lucifer’s words, a burst of magic throws open the closet doors and forces Mammon to come tumbling out.

“Mammon?” You gasp, grabbing your robe to cover yourself again.

Scrambling to his feet, Mammon averts his eyes and mumbles out incoherent apologies.

You probably think he’s a damn pervert. He won’t even look you in the eye.

“Should I throw him out or should we punish him for spying?”

“Punish?” You and Mammon both echo. While Mammon’s voice is fearful for the kind of sadistic ways Lucifer will torture him, yours is curious.

The eldest brother doesn’t turn his head to acknowledge the younger, his eyes are keenly on you. His gloved hand slides over your shoulder, toying with the thin strap of your bra before sliding it down. “Answer me.”

Your coy eyes dart over to Mammon who is still helplessly sprawled on the floor, unable to move. A tongue moves to wet your lips and both men watch, mesmerized by your action.

“He can stay.”

Mammon has always had nice long and slender fingers and, of course, he knew that. He had the skilled, nimble fingers of a thief. They were capable of picking pockets and, apparently, making you writhe and gasp beneath him. Oh, if only he had a camera to capture your pretty face gasping his name in fragmented breaths.

Two orgasms with just his fingers and now he was aiming for a third just to keep listening to your overstimulated moans. The way you writhed around his fingers, struggling to keep up with his ruthless pace, was addicting. Your fingers were buried in the dark sheets of Lucifer’s bed.

Finally, your eyes fluttered open. He watched your flushed face intently, memorizing the way your brows furrowed together in pleasure, glossy lips parted for air, and the sheen of sweat that had gathered over your smooth skin. He could watch you fall apart on his fingers for the next century or for the rest of his eternal life, preferably the latter.

Mammon met your eyes. He may have been declared the worst, scummiest brother of the seven but when he saw you, those words meant nothing. You were his human. His perfect human. And the way you looked at him convinced him that maybe he wasn’t a worthless loser like his brothers said, he was just as perfect in your eyes as you were in his. That was all that mattered to him.

He slowly drew his two fingers out of you, earning a whine. Your weak arms chased after him. He couldn’t resist the low chuckle that escaped him. You were so needy for him—just for him.

Your sticky arousal clung to his fingers and he greedily stuck them into his mouth to taste. So sweet, just like you. One taste and he felt an insatiable hunger, rivaling Beel’s, begin to build up inside of him. He wanted you so badly for so long. Now, you were splayed out for him with legs spread wide, a leaking cunt ready to be fucked. The need on your face was apparent.

Mammon slid his fingers from his mouth with a wet pop. Two orgasms later and he had yet to kiss you. As he leaned down he thought he should. He wanted to. It’ll be our first kiss, Mammon thought. Our first kiss in Lucifer’s room, on Lucifer’s bed, under Lucifer’s watchful eye.

He couldn’t do it.

Instead, he came down to press hot kisses against your neck. He cursed himself for being so afraid. His fists curled up beside your head.

Oblivious to his inner turmoil, you responded by baring your neck for him, sighing and grinding yourself against his clothed erection. He bit back a groan and buried his face into your neck.

“You’re all mine, right?” He murmured more to himself than anyone else. You were too lost in a haze of pleasure to properly hear him.

But his fantasies could only last so long.

“For now, Mammon. But, don’t forget who she really belongs to.” The cold voice reached his ears from the corner of the room.

Mammon’s blue eyes moved to where his older brother reclined on the sofa with a cruel smirk. The fireplace was lit, casting an even sinister glow on Lucifer that Mammon found fitting. The brothers locked eyes, equally filled with an unspoken challenge.

Mammon glared at Lucifer, the demon who was so proud and confident you’d never leave him for anyone else. So proud and confident, he’d let Mammon fuck you.

Yeah, well, Mammon would show him. He would fuck you so good you wouldn’t even rememeber Lucifer’s name by the time he was done.

“Ya bastard,” Mammon snapped, fully removing his face from your neck. “Can ya just shut up?”

Lucifer only crossed his arms, the smug smirk growing deeper.

“Mammon…” came your sweet, wavering voice. He looked back down at your adorable pout. Those plump and reddened lips that had been caught between your teeth when you tried (and failed) to hold back moans just looked so irresistible. He wanted to kiss you. Your hand came up to run through his snowy hair. “Don’t be mean.”

“Yes, Mammon,” Lucifer said the younger’s name with venom, “I wouldn’t recommend it. After all, I’m the one allowing you to do this. I can end it whenever I please.”

This was only happening because Mammon happened to stumble in on you and Lucifer. But it wasn’t just Lucifer’s decision to let him stay, you also had a say in this. You were the one letting him kiss your body, fuck you on his fingers—you wanted this just as much as him. Lucifer be damned, Mammon only wanted your permission.

Mammon’s only reply was a dismissive ‘tch’ and his mouth returned to press kisses on your body. This time with renewed vigor. He’d carve his name on your skin and use his cock to ruin you until your thoughts were consumed by him.

His fingers scorched a trail over your chest until he cupped one of your breasts, squeezing and running his thumb over a hardened nipple. You let out a breathy moan, arching your back into his hand. He bent his head to take your other neglected nipple into his mouth. He used his skillful tongue to lick and suck and abuse each nipple until they were red and littered with his marks.

“Hah,” you sighed, taking on a whiny tone “please, Mammon, touch me.”

He detached his mouth from your nipple to give a short reply, “I am, baby.” He continued his assault on your breasts, then made his way up to your neck and sucked even more bruises onto your skin.

Lucifer clicked his tongue at the pet name, but didn’t say anything. He stayed glued to his spot on the couch and watched you two with a fierce red gaze. How any of this was punishment, Mammon wouldn’t know. Letting him have you all to himself while Lucifer quietly sat back and observed seemed more like a reward.

“Y-You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I wanna hear you say it.”

You bit your lip hesitantly, nervous eyes flitting over to Lucifer. He remained silent.

“Your fingers, your mouth… I want you to—ngh,” you moaned when his fingers grazed the inner part of your thigh. So close. He dragged them higher, lightly brushing your outer folds. A knowing smirk rested on his lips. You bucked your hips, desperate for him to sink his fingers back into you. “I want you in me, on me. Please, please.”

How could he resist such a pretty plea? One hand pushed your thighs apart and two fingers quickly entered you again, pushing through your tight walls and had you crying out.

You sighed with blurry unfocused eyes that drifted over the room as Mammon offered you such great pleasure that your thighs trembled around his hand. You gasped when his fingers curled unexpectedly, hitting the perfect angle, making you arch your back and your fingers dig into the dark sheets.

Judging by your reaction, Mammon knew he hit the jackpot and he’d be foolish not to keep going until you’re clenching around his fingers and crying his name for Lucifer to hear��better yet, for all of the House of Lamentation.

His mouth made its way down until he was kissing your inner thighs. One of his large hands pushed your thighs further apart so he could fit his shoulders between your legs and get a better view of your drenched folds. After two mind-numbing orgasms, your arousal coated his fingers and soaked the bed. His tongue lapped around his fingers, cleaning up your mess, savoring your taste. He became ravenous once your sweetnesses hit his tongue.

Foregoing his fingers, Mammon instead used them to spread your folds apart to plunge his serpentine tongue into your cunt with a ferocity that had you shaking.

“Ah, too m-much.” You groaned, twining your fingers through his hair and tugging on the strands, hoping it would halt his quick tongue. He grunted at the sharp tug on his head, but your arms, weak from the onslaught of pleasure, were no match for his demonic strength and determination. His fingers dug into your thigh to prevent you from squeezing them around his head. You would have bruises in the morning, but it would be another display of him on your skin. Exactly what he wanted. His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking the swollen and sensitive bud, and grazed it with his teeth. You cried out. The pleasure was so overwhelming that tears began to roll down your cheeks.

“Good girl. You can take it.” Lucifer was no longer sitting on the couch. Some time between Mammon fingering you and eating you out, he moved to the edge of the bed, closest to your head. He stroked your sweat matted hair out of your face. His white gloves dragged across your damp cheek.

You muttered Lucifer’s name between breaths. You didn’t realize it, but Mammon did.

Saying another demon’s name while he was the one between your legs!?

“Oi, oi,” Mammon snapped, tugging at your hips until you were dragged out of Lucifer’s grasp. His possessive hands, nails digging in and leaving crescents on your skin, squeezed your thighs. “He ain’t the one who’s eatin’ ya out, is he? Eyes over here.”

Lucifer scoffed, “don’t be childish, Mammon.”

The eldest demon moved to sit behind you, propping your limp body against his chest. Having you settled against him, he slowly removed his gloves. When long, pale fingers finally emerged, they toyed with your nipples first, tugging and pinching, drawing out your high-pitched whimpers. He played with you like a doll under his absolute control, knowing exactly where you liked to be touched, where you let out the softest gasps from the pressure of his hands against your throat.

You fell against Lucifer, fitting against him like you were meant to be that way. It just wasn’t fair. It wasn’t. Mammon was your first man. So, why did you fall into the arms of Lucifer instead of him?

“Tch, yer a greedy little slut, aren’t ya? Wantin’ two demons at once. Ta be nothin’ but a stupid cocksleeve.” The comment came without warning, even Mammon paused.

“Mammon.”

The second-born nearly yelped when he heard the simmering fury in Lucifer’s barely restrained voice. A familiar dark aura fogged the room. Just before Lucifer could reach around you and throttle him, your hand pressed against his chest to stop him.

“It’s fine, Lucifer,” you managed to say in time. “I-I kinda liked it.”

Your back was to Mammon. You couldn’t see the relief that left his body limp.

“I won’t let him talk to you like that.” Lucifer narrowed his sharp eyes at Mammon over your shoulder. Even after you confessed to liking the names, Lucifer’s hands tightened around your waist protectively. “You can go now.”

“B-but I ain’t finished,” Mammon protested, reaching to touch your shoulder.

Lucifer was faster, wrapping his gloved hand around Mammon’s wrist and pushing him away. “You’re done when I say so.”

The aura in the room changed with Lucifer’s mood. As the eldest and strongest demon in the room, he controlled every action, down to the last breath, and Mammon would be wise to remember that.

“He doesn’t have to go,” you turned around to look at Mammon, “don’t go.” You offered him a soft reassuring smile.

“You really want him to stay, love?” Lucifer had your attention again, cupping your cheeks in his hands, searching for any signs of hesitation.

You nodded and Lucifer sighed. “Okay, but,” Lucifer looked at Mammon, “no more touching. Your punishment can start now.”

“Wha-”

“Mammon, stay,” your sweet voice commanded him and he was stuck. The feeling of your pact activating left him feeling numb all over. His master gave him an order he had to obey. So, this was the real punishment.

Mammon clenched his jaw and helplessly watched Lucifer flip you onto your stomach and spread your legs, ass up. You were facing him on your elbows, flashing him a teasing smile. Your bottom lip came between your teeth and Mammon groaned, wishing he had kissed you when he could.

“You prepared her well for me,” Lucifer taunted, unbuckling his pants and bringing out his cock. His two fingers pushed into your wet cunt. You gasped when a third finger entered, stretching you out further to ensure taking Lucifer’s cock would be easier. “Now you can watch me fuck her.”

Lucifer’s fingers slipped out and were soon replaced by his thick cock, pushing into your tight walls. The second he entered you, your arms collapsed and you fell against the bed, eyelids fluttering shut so you could fully feel his entire length buried inside you and fucking you.

As much as he wanted to, Mammon couldn’t tear his gaze away from you and your expressions. When you’d bite your lip to hold back shallow gasps after each rough thrust, or how your brows furrowed when Lucifer reached around your waist to play with your clit, he studied them all.

“Nng—more,” you panted, grinding your hips against Lucifer.

Just like Mammon, Lucifer wasn’t immune to your pleas. He lifted your body against his chest, letting you sit on his cock as he thrusted up into you and his hand played with your tits. You moaned, reaching your hand around to scratch at Lucifer’s neck. Your thighs trembled with each wet slap of your hips connecting.

“Let him know who’s fucking you this good,” Lucifer said low in your ear.

“Y-You!”

Lucifer gave your sore nipple a cruel pinch, demanding more than one-word answers.

“Hng! You, Lucifer! You make me f-feel so good!” You cried, grinding harder against his cock.

“Good girl,” Lucifer cooed into your ear. He continued fucking you, playing with your clit, until your body tensed.

Mammon could tell you were close. You came around his fingers twice—he remembered. When your head fell against Lucifer’s shoulder and your body locked up, he could tell that you came, Lucifer as well. His fingers twitched for contact. He just wanted to hold you, be the one whispering sweet comforts into your ear as you came down, but that was Lucifer’s job.

It was numbing to sit in place, unable to have what he desired more than Grimm, and be nothing but a spectator in Lucifer’s cruel punishment.

Your sleepy head rested on Lucifer’s shoulders, already dozing off when he pulled out. Your combined juices dribbled down your thigh. As Lucifer worked on making you comfortable, he glanced over his shoulder at Mammon.

“Give it up. She’s mine.”

Mammon felt his mouth go dry. If only you weren’t so oblivious to his obvious feelings and if only he weren’t so adamant on denying them, then things wouldn’t be this way.

With you resting comfortably in Lucifer’s bed, the command you put on Mammon was released. The feeling returned to his limbs, but the dull ache in his chest lingered. He dragged himself from the bed, knowing the longer he watched your peaceful expression in Lucifer’s arms, the more it’d hurt.

He still wished he kissed you.

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me x reader #mammon x reader #lucifer x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me fanfic #mammon smut #obey me nightbringer

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