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To, Future You | S.JY

sim jaeyun x fem!reader warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f. rec), fingering, spitting, body worshipping, whimpering and whiney jake, mutual pining, confessions, mentions of alcohol, anti-men in some parts, not proof-read anything else lmk! wc: 16.1k synopsis: in your fourth year of secondary school, your home room teacher made you write a 'to future you' letter to someone in your class. while you had no idea who to write it to, sim jaeyun knew exactly who would receive his letter. he just never expected it to actually come through 10 years later. a/n: hi! so this was something that has been sitting in the back of my mind for a while. i saw a tiktok that was someone writing a confession letter and ten years later receiving it so that is the inspo (pls if anyone knows it please send me the link so i can tag it!) i hope you enjoy this, after i post this i am taking a little break and stepping back so i can focus on my heeseung series! there might be some random fics here and there but i wont be posting as much (sorry!) as always, feedback, likes, reblogs, and comments are all welcome <3 ilysm

Your phone vibrates on your cluttered office desk, a blessed interruption from the mundane chore of sifting through emails. With a sigh, you pick it up, expecting yet another spam message or discount offer. However, as you enter your pin and swipe down the notification, your curiosity piques, and your posture straightens instinctively, uncrossing your legs and firmly planting both feet on the ground.

The screen displays the sender as 'To Future You'. Memories flood back from a decade ago when your teacher, Mr. Yang, initiated a unique project in your fourth year of secondary school. Instead of the typical 'what I think will happen in 10 years' pitch, Mr. Yang offered a more intriguing idea that got the students on board.

Your class was tasked with writing letters to someone else in the class, detailing how you perceived them then and what you believed they would become in the future. Mr. Yang's intention was to leave everyone with a lasting memory, knowing that some would stay for fifth and sixth years, while others would move on to college or the workforce.

He didn’t pair you all up, leaving you to your own devices; it could be a friend or someone random, the only stipulation being that it was someone from your home room.

Honestly, you hadn’t given it much thought at the time, sending one to the girl next to you with hopes that her dreams would come true. All your friends were in different classes, so you couldn’t even enthusiastically engage with the exercise.

However, you never expected to get one yourself. Your home room was filled with the popular girls and guys who were a world away from you and your quiet life. While they were out partying and having fun, you were studying to get into University, promising yourself a life of fun after you had graduated with friends you made along the way.

Of course, that’s not how it worked and you found yourself in a job you hated with bosses who make sly remarks about you and your competency even though you are much better at your job than any of these middle-aged losers. What’s that song from Bowling For Soup? High School Never ends, and by fuck were they right.

So as you stare at the unread email, you brace yourself for the torment from school to haunt you now as a 26-year-old. There was one girl from class who hated you, convinced that you ratted her out for smoking in the girls’ bathroom, which by the way, you had no part in; perhaps this letter is cursing you out wrongfully one final time.

Yet, the letter is not anything of the sort, leaving your palms sweaty at the unexpected turn.

Hi, Y/N.

How are you doing? From the looks of it, you’re struggling with what to write. Me too if I am being honest. This is a bit weird, isn’t it? I feel so strange writing these words when you're just a few seats away.

Anyway, hi again!

I don't know why I'm pouring my thoughts out to you of all people, but…I trust you. You’re genuinely nice and kind to everyone, even when others aren't :( sorry about that, by the way, for my friends. They can be real pissheads, and I personally hope they live unfulfilling lives. Once I leave next month, I pray I never have to see them ever again.

Is that too harsh?

Sorry, I should get back on track. You look super pretty today! I noticed you got a new bracelet. Was it for your birthday? Come to think of it, your birthday must have just passed if you're receiving this 10 years later, so happy 26th birthday, I guess! It’s so strange to imagine you as a 26 year old, or me for that matter lol.

I’m supposed to predict what I see your life like in the future, right? I think you’re an amazing lawyer (that is what you’re going to study at University, isn’t it?) I peer-reviewed one of your English papers once and you made me totally change my mind on The Woman in Black, I mean, she shouldn’t have tormented him but she was also grieving. I knew then that you could see the good in everyone, exactly what a good lawyer should be. Umm…you’re probably happily living with your husband who you met in a lecture and bonded over some conversation about how to save the world or what near extinct animal you should fundraise for.

I’m jealous of him just thinking about it.

Can I make a confession? Since I don’t think we’ll miraculously become friends and you’ll somehow read this while I sit beside you. It’s actually the real reason I’m writing this to you (I lied earlier about not knowing, I just didn’t know if I would say this part lol.)

I like you, as in, like you - like you. I have since first year when you walked into homeroom with your hair tied up and your Hello Kitty backpack. I might even be in love with you, as much as a 16 year old boy can be. You’re so passionate and beautiful that I can’t keep my eyes off you. Even now in the computer room, I’m staring straight at you and you haven’t even looked my way once. It always goes like this but I don’t blame you for it, don’t worry! It’s my fault, I should stop being a coward and ask you out, or at least try and be friends with you.

I’m leaving at the end of fourth year, I hate this place, to be honest. I have no idea what I am going to do or who I am and I’m scared as fuck. I wish in another life I could have you by my side through adulthood. I think it’s the only way I can cope, it’s the only reason I survived this hellhole. One look at you, and I feel safe, like the world isn’t crashing down on me. That’s weird, isn’t it? To think that about someone you don’t speak to.

This is coming off as creepy, like I don’t stalk you or anything, don’t worry. I just can’t express my feelings well but I guess it’s as simple as:

I think I love you, I hope no matter what happens in the future you have the life you deserve, and if I do happen to build up the courage at the end of the year to confess and you fall in love with me and I am in fact that husband I spoke about earlier (although way cooler and less of a knob) then do not speak about this lol.

Take care of yourself, Y/N. The world is so much brighter with you in it.

~ Your secret admirer.

LOL imagine I left you hanging like that :P

~ It’s Jaeyun (Sim, not Lee)

You stare blankly at your phone screen, the words swirling before your eyes like a whirlpool of emotions. A tidal wave crashes over you, leaving you paralysed in your seat, suspended in a moment of disbelief and regret. It's as if time itself has come to a standstill, and the world around you fades into insignificance as you grapple with the weight of Jaeyun's confession.

How could you not have noticed? How could you have been so blind to his feelings, so oblivious to the subtle signs of affection that now seem painfully obvious in hindsight? Jaeyun, of all people, someone who had offered you a smile while his friend group glared at you, or how he volunteered to be your dancing partner during PE, all that time you figured he was doing it to mock you when in fact, he was someone who had seen you for who you truly were when others merely glanced over you.

Jaeyun had been there all along, quietly observing, silently hoping for a chance to make his feelings known.

And you wish he did because out of all the popular students in your year, he was the one you would have been opened to. You had a crush on him like any girl does in their youth, but that's all you thought it was, an unrequited crush that could never be anything more than that. Yet, here he was telling you he liked you, so casually, in a letter he wrote at 16.

In his predictions, he was right about one thing - you are a lawyer, a damn good one at that. It’s amazing how he even knew that considering you don’t remember telling him nor did you share any inclination with even your friends that you were planning to go to Uni for it. It wasn’t for any reason other than usually when you tell someone you are going to do something, you end up never achieving it.

However, he missed the mark on the marriage front. Between the demands of University and your intensive full-time job, which frequently spills over into overtime, your romantic life has mostly consisted of fleeting Tinder dates and occasional hookups. Yet, it's not a life steeped in sorrow, marriage and children have never ranked high on your list of priorities, so you harbour no discontentment with your current relationship status, not really...

Suppressing the lump in your throat, you resort to the timeless ritual that any single woman in her mid-twenties indulges in upon discovering that someone from high school had an interest in her, particularly when she once found him undeniably attractive and frequently mentioned him to her closest friends back in the day: you embark on an Instagram stalking expedition, naturally.

Abandoning your pile of emails and the documents of your current case, you cast aside all distractions in a quest for Jaeyun. Despite only sharing a couple of conversations with him that linger in your memory, you're compelled to uncover what he's been up to. Typing his name into the search bar, you hold your breath, hoping that finding him won't prove too difficult given his distinctive name.

Thankfully, user simjakeyun emerges with ease, and in no time, you find yourself perusing his profile.

There he is, just as you recall him - those beguiling puppy eyes you once avoided now ensnaring you with their warmth, and that infectious smile rendering him ageless. As you delve into his world, you're entranced by the adventures he shares and the moments he has captured. His life appears so rich and fulfilling that you can't help but feel a pang of contrast with the dreary confines of your current office.

As you scroll, you see how he is embracing life to its fullest, travelling the world and seeing countries you can’t even point out on a map, all while you find yourself tethered to the prison of your office walls for hours on end. It's not that you despise your own life, but in this moment of comparison, a sense of discontentment begins to gnaw at you.

There are a few girls on his page but none that are consistent, with no wedding ring and no kids, you wonder whether it’s worth dropping him a message.

Are you really going to slide into Sim Jaeyun’s DMs? Yes. Yes, you are.

Creating a new private message, you hesitate, staring at his profile picture at the top of the screen. That beautiful smile makes you second-guess yourself. Why would he care about a silly little message from you? He’s out there striving and thriving, while your Instagram chronicles the life of a busy lawyer with only two close friends and an obvious wine addiction due to the countless glasses that makes frequent appearances.

You linger on the message screen, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. The doubts swirl in your mind, but something pushes you forward. Taking a deep breath, you begin to type.

"Hey Jaeyun, it's been ages! I just stumbled across your profile and couldn't resist saying hi. It looks like you've been on some incredible adventures. How have you been?"

You pause, re-reading the message. It feels both too casual and overly formal at the same time. With a sigh, you delete the last sentence and try again. Your mind is screaming at you not to bring up the letter, yet it might be the only way to get a response. At the end of the day, he was right - you weren’t friends in school, so why pretend you were just to start a conversation? Surely, that would make him think you were a weirdo.

But he told you he might be in love you, and you’ve gone ten years without knowing. Bringing it up could be the key to getting a genuine reaction from him, but it could also backfire spectacularly. He might recoil, feel uncomfortable, and even block you completely. You know you'd have that reaction if the roles were reversed.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to take the plunge. You start typing a new message, carefully choosing your words.

Hi Jaeyun! I don’t know if you remember me but the funniest thing just happened. Do you remember Mr. Yang made us write those letters to someone in the class that would be sent ten years later? I got one today…from you, actually! You probably won’t remember but I thought I would let you know that I got it and thank you :)

You hesitate before hitting send, re-reading it over and over again to avoid spelling mistakes and accidentally telling him that he told you he loved you. As the message goes through, your heart races and a mix of anxiety and anticipation swirls inside you. This is a leap of faith, and all you can do now is wait.

_____

Unfortunately, all you do is wait because it's been two days, and Jaeyun hasn't replied. The silence is deafening, amplifying your doubts and fears. You replay the message over and over in your mind, wondering if you said too much or too little.

It has to be because you mentioned the letter; he probably has a girlfriend. It wouldn't be uncommon for a guy as gorgeous as him to be snapped up quickly. He probably has one of those stunning girlfriends with long blonde hair and a figure straight out of Vogue.

You try to push the thoughts aside, but they persist, gnawing at you. Doubts mingle with vivid imaginations of his perfect life, further widening the gap between your reality and the fantasy you've constructed. Much like he passively fantasised about the prospect of being your husband all those years ago, you now find yourself lying on your couch, imagining what it would be like to be his wife.

The images in your mind are vivid and alluring: travelling the world together, exploring new places, sharing laughs and quiet moments. You picture the two of you living in a charming apartment, hosting dinner parties, and supporting each other through life's ups and downs. The fantasy is intoxicating, but it also leaves you feeling a bit hollow as you contrast it with your current life.

Why are you thinking about all of that about a man you haven't seen or cared about in 10 years? Are you really that desperate, wallowing over what could have been when you had practically forgotten about him?

The more you dwell on it, the more you realise how much you've let his lack of response affect you. Deciding that it's time to regain control of your thoughts, you put your phone aside and focus on something productive. You dive into cleaning your house, finally discarding the takeaway boxes and clothes thrown around the room.

As you clean, the physical activity provides a welcome distraction and a sense of accomplishment. You clear the clutter, creating a more organised and inviting space. Each piece of trash you throw away and each item you put back in its place helps you feel more in control. The mess around you had mirrored the turmoil in your mind, and now, with each cleaned surface, you feel a bit more at peace.

You remind yourself of your strengths and the life you've built. Your career, your friends, your favourite plant that you bought on a whim - all these things are a testament to the vibrant and dynamic life you lead. You're not defined by a response from Jaeyun.

His life is not yours and yours is not his. You are an independent-

*ping*

Leaping over your couch, you unlock your phone and see the Instagram notification and smile brightly, like it was a job offer you’ve been patiently awaiting or an early release of your favourite manga. The rush of anticipation and excitement courses through you as you eagerly open the app to read Jaeyun's message.

Hey there! Sorry about the delay in getting back to you. I've been on a marathon journey back from the UK over the past few days. Opted for the budget ticket, and obviously, it turned into a 36-hour saga with three stopovers 😅. But hey, I'm finally back home!

It's genuinely awesome to hear from you! Can you believe that letter actually made its way to you? I half-suspected it was some scheme Mr. Yang cooked up to sneak a smoke break with Mr. Kim lol.

I remember writing that letter! I said a few things in there...didn’t I? 😳 So, are you still in town? We should totally catch up tomorrow if you're free. I'm all yours if you'll have me.

Your heart skips a beat as you read Jaeyun's message, a rush of excitement coursing through you. His casual tone and mention of the letter bring a smile to your face. It's a relief to see that he's not put off or weirded out by your message; instead, he seems genuinely happy to hear from you.

His apparent recollection of what he said in the letter adds a layer of complexity to the situation. He may want to meet up to address it, perhaps to clarify that it was meant as a joke or to downplay its significance. You find yourself mentally preparing for the possibility of him saying something along the lines of, "Hey, sorry, that was just a joke, so please don't read into it."

While you tell yourself that you'll accept his explanation, deep down, you know that these past two days have shown that you may not take it as casually as you initially thought. If a simple message, or lack thereof, got you in such a tizzy, you can't imagine how you'd react to a rejection of a confession that you didn't even make.

Regardless, you type your response rapidly, not caring if it makes you look desperate and available.

You must be exhausted after travelling! But I'm glad you made it back home safe and sound. I'm free tomorrow. Can you do after 6pm? There's this cosy cafe downtown that's perfect for catching up, it’s called Daisies. I'll make sure to save you a seat. Looking forward to it!

With a quick tap, you send the message, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness about tomorrow's meeting. However, you don’t get long to be alone with your thoughts as another ping of your phone comes through.

Do they do double Jack and Cokes? I think I might need it if I remember what I wrote lol…😅

In all honesty, you might need one as well.

_____

Straightening the napkins on the table for the seventh time in the space of an hour, you watch the door patiently, anticipation coursing through your veins, waiting for Jaeyun to walk through the glass door of the bar you had both settled on. Each of you knew that you wouldn’t be able to have this conversation without some form of alcohol.

It’s not that you’re nervous about seeing him again; after all, you used to see him every day. But it's the weight of the conversation that looms over you. The realisation that the first real conversation you are going to have with him throughout all these years is about a letter he confessed to you in - a letter never meant for you to read because he thought it was a hoax assignment. His actions, unintentional as they may have been, have consequences, and you can't shake the uncertainty of it all.

As the minutes tick by, each second feels heavier than the last. You find yourself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, replaying scenarios and conversations in your mind, trying to predict how tonight's encounter might unfold. Will Jaeyun be as casual and friendly as his messages suggested, or will there be an underlying tension lingering beneath the surface?

The sound of the door opening snaps you out of your reverie, and you glance up, heart pounding, only to find it's just another punter entering the bar. You let out a sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly, but the anticipation remains palpable.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm and composed. This is just Sim Jaeyun, not an ex, not a lost lover, not your dad’s work colleague—there is nothing to be nervous about.

“Y/N?”

Jaeyun’s melodious voice breaks through your thoughts, and you look up to meet his gaze with wide eyes, startled by his sudden appearance. How on earth did he manage to slip through that door without you noticing? The surprise registers on your face as you take in his presence, a mix of amusement and disbelief dancing in your eyes.

"Jaeyun, hey!" you exclaim, your voice betraying your surprise as it breaks, forcing you to clear the bubble in your throat and quickly regain your composure. “I mean, when did you get here?”

He laughs loudly, the rich sound filling the room as he takes the seat opposite to you. The genuine warmth of his smile is infectious, closing his eyes slightly as he enjoys the moment. “Just a minute ago, I went up to the bar first to order us a drink. You like white wine, yeah?”

Nodding, you tilt your head, intrigued. “Yeah, how did you know that?”

“I saw you started without me,” Jaeyun chuckles once again, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he points to your empty glass, “I made an educated guess.”

You can't help but marvel at Jaeyun's appearance. His features are striking, his smile infectious, and there's a certain magnetism about him that draws you in. It's as if he effortlessly commands attention without even trying. A face that gorgeous shouldn’t be allowed to roam so freely, you think to yourself. It should come with a warrant, or at the very least a warning label.

He’s also wearing a pretty cream jacket with a simple white Stussy t-shirt, and some cargo jeans. His hair is much longer than when he was younger, with whisps of his fringe covering his face.

It’s parallel to your business-casual outfit, having just come from the office you decided to opt for a baby pink blouse - in honour of your hero Elle Woods, a cream thigh-length skirt, and a pair of kitten heels. It wasn’t exactly how you wished to dress while meeting Jaeyun again for the first time but due to having consultation with clients, you couldn’t exactly wear a little black dress.

Not that Jaeyun minds; as you’re lost in thought, his eyes are tracing over your body, how your clothes look tailor-made and your tits are sitting beautifully. He feels like a perv for staring at you, this is the first time he’s seen you in so long and here he is, eye fucking you. Though who could blame him? Even as he focuses on your face, forcing his eyes to leave the contours of your curves, all he can stare at is your lips and how they’ve been freshly glossed.

Clearing his throat, Jaeyun tries to shake off the inappropriate thoughts flooding his mind. "So, how have you been?" he asks, his smile innocent yet tinged with nervousness.

"Good. Yeah, good. You?" you respond, keeping your tone neutral, not revealing too much about your well-being. To you, your life is boring and lacks anything worth speaking about.

"Yeah...good," Jaeyun replies, the awkward tension between you palpable in the air.

The atmosphere strange, a tense undercurrent clouding the breezy air. Being alone with him, even being with him at all, feels unfamiliar and stirs a tinge of awkwardness in you. Luckily, he seems just as uneasy.

But when your eyes finally meet, you both burst out laughing, the tension melting away. The sound of your harmonious laughter fills the bar, louder than the soft hum of music or the chatter of others in the background.

His laugh is just as infectious as you remember it, filling the air with its higher-pitched squeals that seem to come in four successions. You watch with fondness as his body leans to the side, his eyes scrunching together in pure joy. It's a sight you hadn't realised you missed until now, a flood of memories rushing back to you in an instant. You hadn't known you knew that about him - the way he laughs, the way he tilts his head when he finds something amusing - but now, it's like a long-lost memory has suddenly resurfaced, and you're hateful to yourself for ever forgetting.

He straightens up, shaking his head to calm his amusement, yet the smile still beams from his face. Huffing out, he nods and looks at you, as though agreeing with his thoughts. “You know, I just realised that we haven’t ever spoken, so this is a bit awkward, isn’t it?”

Shaking your head, you lean forward, your fingers deftly smoothing out the tiniest wrinkle in your shirt as you relax, feeling your body shift with the new atmosphere. “That isn’t true, we had that conversation during country dancing classes.”

“Oh, you mean, ‘Can you not step on my foot, please?’ I would hardly count it as a conversation,” he dismisses it lightheartedly, offering you another chuckle as he remembers.

What he doesn’t know is that you do count it. It was your first proper encounter with him, and even though he kept squashing your toe under his tatty trainers, you let it go because it was also the first time you heard that melodic Australian accent say your name as he mumbled a quick, ‘sorry, Y/N’.

You both laugh again at the memory before the waiter brings over your drinks. “Cheers, mate. Thanks.” Jaeyun smiles politely at the man. It’s the bare minimum to thank your server, yet you can’t stop the butterflies in your stomach as he does so. It’s a testament to his kindness because most of the guys you have ever dated have been the type to snap their fingers or complain about the tiniest thing that could easily be fixed.

Not Jaeyun though, he is far too sweet to act like an arsehole. You haven’t even spent 10 minutes with him and you already know it.

As the waiter walks away, you reach for your wine before stopping for a beat, looking at it thoughtfully. There is a slice of lemon inside the glass, the sight peculiar not because you don’t like it, but rather because you do like it. It’s not conventional to have any garnishes on wine; most connoisseurs say that the wine is already perfect as made. But you like things extra bitter and everything citrus; it’s been this way since college.

You glance at Jaeyun as he sips his Jack and Coke, his attention solely on his drink, seemingly oblivious to your curiosity. Could he have known you liked wine this way? But how? It’s not like you brought a 125ml and a wedge to school. And you certainly don’t come here frequently enough for the bartender to remember you or your order.

The thought niggles at the back of your mind as you take another sip of your wine, mulling over the possibilities. Perhaps it's just a coincidence, you tell yourself, trying to rationalise the situation. But it also isn’t a big deal, you got what you wanted without asking for it which is a very rare occurrence, so you’ll take it and run.

Setting the thought aside, you indulge in a sip of the crisp wine, a contented hum escaping your lips as you enjoy the taste. With a playful shoulder dance, you set the glass down on the table. “So, how has life been since you left school?” you ask casually, even though as you glance up at him, you catch him licking the residue of his drink from his lips and it makes your body flush with heat.

Your gaze lingers for a moment longer than intended, a fleeting moment of admiration as you catch the subtle details of his expression.

“Really…amazing actually,” he begins, his voice laced with a sense of joy as a broad smile lights up his face. “When I left, I didn’t know what I wanted to do, so I just got a part-time job, saved up enough to travel and see my brother back in Australia, and from there...just travelled. I did odd jobs to make money, enough to pay rent for a few months at each place.”

As Jaeyun speaks, you can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy creeping into your thoughts. His carefree lifestyle, filled with adventure and spontaneity, sounds like a dream compared to your own mundane existence of endless paperwork and court cases.

“Wow, that sounds incredible,” you respond, trying to mask the envy in your voice with genuine interest. “Must have been amazing to just pick up and go wherever you want.”

Jaeyun nods enthusiastically, his eyes alight with the memories of his adventures. “It is liberating, honestly. I’ve learned so much about myself and the world. It was good for me, it turned out to be exactly what I needed.”

He takes another sip of his JD, his expression shifting to one of apology as he notices the dejected look on your face. “But what about you? Aren’t you a fancy lawyer now? That’s way more impressive than a country-hopper.”

You know he's just trying to be polite, but his words only serve to magnify your own feelings of inadequacy. In no world is your tiresome job and lack of social life anywhere near as impressive as what he has managed to accomplish in 10 years.

Taking a big swig of your drink, you bob your head from side to side, downplaying the enormity of your profession. “Yeah, it’s okay. It pays well and I do love it some days. I work in corporate law, so it isn’t as exciting as I would have liked.”

“You wanted to do immigration law, right?” Jaeyun asks, his tone is casual but his question catches you off guard.

You pause, your eyes narrowing with scepticism as you look at him. It's one thing for him to recall your career aspirations, but for him to remember the specific field you were interested in seems almost uncanny. After all, you never spoke about it except in your university applications. So unless he had some insider knowledge, there's no reason for him to know such specific details.

Nodding slowly, you set your wine glass down and lean back. “Yeah… how did you know that? I never told anyone about it.”

“I guess I'm just quite the observer,” he jokes, though there's a hint of sheepishness in his tone as he scratches the back of his neck. He curses himself inwardly for being so casual about a minute detail that he knows he shouldn’t know. “I actually, uh, I saw you checking out an Immigration Law and Social Justice book one day. Figured that’s what you wanted to do.”

Jaeyun wasn’t lying; that really was how he knew. It was just before summer break, and he was returning his physics books when he noticed you in front of him, a pile of books in one arm, the first one being about immigration law.

You look up to the ceiling, a smile of understanding spreading across your face as you let out a contented 'oh', finally piecing together the mystery. "That makes sense now. I was so confused when you wrote about me going on to become a lawyer in that letter because I could have sworn I never uttered a word to anyone."

“That’s right! I predicted you would be a snooty lawyer,” he exclaims, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he lightly bangs his fist on the table. His chuffed grin widens, spreading across his face like he's just won the first question on a quiz show.

Laughing, you nod in agreement. You don’t tell him that he never called you snooty because he also isn’t wrong as he adds the adjective. Although you’re easy going outside of the office, you hold yourself with high pride while at work, looking down on the men you work with. Perhaps you would be more kind if they weren’t gigantic arseholes with no morals.

So in that sense, yes, yes you are snooty.

“You also said I would be married with kids,” you point out, a chuckle escaping your lips as you recall the absurdity of the prediction.

“So? Did I get two for two?” Jaeyun retorts, a playful twinkle in his eyes as he wiggles his eyebrows. Beneath his casual demeanour, though, a subtle flutter stirs in his heart at the mention of a husband. He wants you to be happy, obviously - why wouldn’t he? But he can’t deny the pang of jealousy that tugs at him at the prospect of you being happy with another man.

You notice the subtle shift in Jaeyun's manner, the conflict between his words and the emotion flickering in his eyes, but you choose to let it pass without comment. Instead, you simply shake your head and lift your eyebrows, taking another sip of your white wine. If you don’t slow down, you’ll be finished five of these before Jaeyun has even made a dent in his first drink.

He audibly gasps at your silent confession, his surprise evident in the way his eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly. As much as he had hoped you wouldn’t have a man waiting for you at home, he can’t believe that you don’t.

“Seriously? I would have thought someone would have snapped you up in a heartbeat,” he admits, still flabbergasted that the bright and beautiful woman sitting before him is, in fact, single.

“Nope. I guess it’s just like high school,” you say, shrugging nonchalantly as you downplay the situation. Despite trying to be casual about it all, a hint of vulnerability lingers beneath the surface. You know how it looks, being in your mid-twenties and never having been in a serious relationship. It has made you wonder countless times about what could possibly be so repulsive that men don’t want to pursue a relationship with you.

But then you remember the richness of your life - a nice cosy flat, paying all your own bills, having friends who love you unconditionally, and a supportive family who stands by every decision you make. In the grand scheme of things, your life is fulfilling in its own right, far beyond the confines of a romantic relationship.

It doesn’t mean you don’t sometimes feel like you’re missing out though, but you've come to appreciate the career-driven journey that is yours alone.

Jaeyun's laughter fills the air, warm and genuine, but there's a certain intensity in his gaze as he looks you dead in the eyes. His iris’, a shade of deep brown flecked with golden hues, seem to hold a wealth of unspoken words, as if there's something he's yearning to express beyond the surface banter.

“Like high school? As in you’re too busy to notice people looking your way?” he quips, his voice light but tinged with a hint of vulnerability. There's a subtle shift in the atmosphere, a silent recognition of the unspoken truths dancing between you due to one letter.

This damn letter.

“You did mention how you would always look at me. Although, you made it very clear you were not a stalker,” you remark with a snort of laughter, thinking back to the playful disclaimer he had included in his letter. The tension between you dissipates slightly as you both chuckle loudly with one another much like before.

Even when the air is awkward, you both still manage to find comfort in it. Perhaps it’s because you both share feelings that none of you are aware of. As far as you’re concerned, he left those feelings behind in secondary school, and he thinks you’ve never cared about him at all.

Jaeyun covers his face as the memories invade his mind of writing and re-writing the paragraph to make you abundantly aware that he did not sit outside your house at night and watch you through the window - a sentence which was in the first draft - or that he didn’t transfer classes to National 3 Maths to be close to you - even though he did and he should have graduated high school with National 5, sacrificing his academic standing just to have the seat close to yours.

“Can I read it? I need to know what I should specifically be apologising for,” Jaeyun titters, his voice muffled by the palms of his hands as he peeks through his fingers at you. The request hangs in the air, laced with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, as if he's both eager and apprehensive to revisit the words he had penned so long ago.

Reaching for your phone in your bag, you nod, trifling through the empty wrappers of gum and secret chocolate bars you sneakily eat in the office. The last time you ate your well-deserved Mars bar, your boss made a snide comment about how you must be starting your period soon. It’s men like him that make Jaeyun’s bare minimum of thanking the waiter a much-needed standard.

You retrieve your phone and open up the letter, passing it to him which he awkwardly accepts, smiling apologetically at you already for whatever 16-year-old him thought was appropriate to say. He begins to scroll, his face changing from amusement to disdain and then back to amusement. Yet one solid feature is etched on his face the entire time, hiding behind the other emotions he is portraying but you can’t figure it out.

You observe Jaeyun as he clicks the phone to lock it, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face before he passes it back to you. There's a hint of apprehension in his eyes, mingled with a quiet resignation, yet he does what Jaeyun does best; he smiles and washes his true feelings away.

“It was even more cringe-worthy than I remember, I seriously gotta apologise that you had to read all of that,” he says with a self-deprecating chuckle, his tone light but carrying a hint of genuine remorse. It's his way of deflecting, of downplaying his confession, but you can't help but sense the underlying sincerity beneath his words.

"I honestly thought it was a joke when I opened it and saw your name," you admit softly, wary of your words. You don't want him to think you found his feelings laughable, but rather that receiving a love letter at all was the punchline, particularly back then.

Contrary to his portrayal in the letter, you didn't consider yourself pretty or beautiful in high school. You felt average, plagued by acne, with scars that still dot your face as lingering reminders. Your hair was often a mess, your face untouched by makeup, and you never settled on a style, finding them all too mismatched with your personality.

Upon hearing your confession, Jaeyun's eyes widen in disbelief. "Seriously? Why?"

You shrug, picking up your glass and swirling it thoughtfully before responding. "You were with Chris and the others, and let's be honest, they weren't exactly my best friends," you scoff, recalling the snide comments his friends used to make in passing, or the 'accidental' bumps that would cause you to drop your phone or books.

There is a pregnant pause in the air as Jaeyun's expression softens with understanding, a hint of regret shadowing his features. "I'm sorry you had to deal with all that," he murmurs, genuine remorse colouring his tone.

You offer a small, dismissive wave of your hand, attempting to brush off the memories. "Water under the bridge now," you say, though the bitterness still lingers beneath the surface. It wasn’t his fault; he had no control over his friends' actions, and in hindsight, he was the one in the group who never laughed at your discomfort or instigated trouble for you. He was always there to offer you an apologetic smile when you needed it.

Back then, it was hard to see him as an individual from the others, considering he was always by their side. But in retrospect you realise that your crush on him had been rooted in an unspoken recognition of his genuine and kind nature, even if in high school you couldn’t fully see it. You never hated him, the opposite in fact, and there was a reason for that.

A chuckle escapes Jaeyun's lips, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "If it makes you feel better, I got my wish," he says, laughter lacing his words as he knocks back the rest of his drink. "Half of them peaked in school, and Chris is divorced and balding as we speak."

You can't help but laugh along with him, the irony not lost on you. "Well, karma works in mysterious ways," you quip, raising your glass in a mock toast to the twists of fate.

Jaeyun grins, clinking his glass against yours. "Cheers to that."

Settling comfortably back in your seat, you smile fondly at him. Despite the heaviness of the conversation, you feel at ease. There’s something about him that makes you feel safe, a sense that no matter what’s going on in your mind, he can calm you down. You recall his words in the letter, how he could look at you and instantly feel better.

Jaeyun's gaze holds a gentle intensity, his eyes sparkling with a glint of satisfaction as he observes your visibly relaxed state. "It's nice seeing you like this," he murmurs softly, a hint of warmth lacing his voice. "I always hoped we'd have a moment like this someday."

You hum softly, grinning sheepishly at the prospect that Sim Jaeyun could have thought about you even after your school years. It does beg the elephant in the room to be addressed, however, both of you sneaking around the main focus of his written word.

"In the letter," you begin, feeling a curious mix of apprehension and anticipation swirl in your chest. The question hovers on the tip of your tongue, laden with the weight of untold possibilities. "Why didn’t you ask me out?"

The inquiry catches Jaeyun off guard, momentarily stalling his easy demeanour. He blinks, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he recovers with a thoughtful expression. It's evident that he hadn't anticipated such directness from you, despite knowing your inquisitive nature all too well.

Straightening out his jacket with a nervous flick, Jaeyun adjusts his posture to convey a sense of faux confidence. He clears his throat and licks his lips, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "I shouldn’t have been a coward," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

Jaeyun's candid admission bubbles shock into you, yet you find it refreshing coming from a man. You nod in understanding, silently acknowledging his confession.

"You were just…you," he says, meeting your eyes with candour. "Smart, attractive, career-oriented, and determined to change the world. And I was just a screwy little kid with no life aspirations and nothing to offer a girl like you."

His words resonate within you, with a genuine honesty that is both disarming and charming. Despite his self-deprecating tone, you can't help but be empathic to the vulnerability he's exhibiting.

"I didn't see you that way," you say, your voice soft but genuine, hoping to convey that you never considered him beneath you. In your view, you could never be on his level, not in a negative sense, but in the understanding that he exuded charisma and confidence that seemed out of reach. Your personalities were too contrasting, with him being cool and outgoing, while you felt you would have fallen short.

Jaeyun lets out a rueful laugh, a wry smile playing on his lips. "You didn't see me at all, did you?" he replies, his tone carrying a mix of self-awareness and resignation.

His words hit you like a blow to the chest, a painful realisation dawning upon you. You wince, feeling yourself crumble inward, the weight of missed opportunities and unspoken truths bearing down heavily on your shoulders. If you had stuck your head out of your own bubble, maybe you would be sitting and having a drink with him as something more than high school could haves.

"I'm sorry about that," you say, your voice laced with regret. "I was so focused on studying and staying away from your crowd that I just didn't see."

Jaeyun's expression softens, his features reflecting a mixture of empathy and knowing. "It's alright," he says gently, reaching out to place a comforting hand on yours. “The way you were back then, it was exactly the reason I lo-, I liked you so much,” he confesses sheepishly, stumbling over his words as he skirts around the most obviously avoided topic of his letter.

Shaking off the intensity of the moment, Jaeyun gestures for the waiter to return, his easy smile returning as he orders more drinks, figuring that if he’s sipping, he isn’t saying something he might regret.

“So, tell me about being a lawyer.”

_____

For the next three hours, you both speak about everything and anything; from his adventurous travels to your disastrous dates, from your awful bosses to the state of the government, you discuss it all. Each topic seamlessly flows into another, and you find yourself conversing with ease, as if you're best friends on your weekly catch up.

As the evening progresses, you've shared stories, laughter, and even a few moments of vulnerability. The wine has flowed freely, the bottle emptying with each heartfelt story, while Jaeyun has indulged in his fair share of Jack and Coke, the familiar burn of the alcohol helping to dissolve any lingering feelings of apprehension.

Despite the passage of time and the years spent apart, it feels as though no time has passed at all. You find yourself effortlessly connecting with Jaeyun, discovering new facets of his personality with each shared anecdote and heartfelt confession. You wonder if you would have gotten along this well in secondary school.

"Is this you back for good then or?" you ask, the wine buzz kicking into your system enough to make you lean forward, resting your chin on your hand as you gaze at him with an undercurrent of longing.

Jaeyun's expression softens, his eyes never meeting yours but they shine with a hint of something you cannot put your finger on. "I'm actually going to Malta the day after tomorrow. This was just a flying visit," he replies, his tone tinged with a sense of wistfulness.

The news comes as bittersweet to you because just as you had Jaeyun within reach, he is also leaving you just as quickly. But you’re also envious that while you have to get up early and represent people in a boardroom who only see value in money and nothing else, he is galavanting to another dream destination.

"Ugh, I am so jealous!" you proclaim, unable to hide the playful pout that forms on your lips. Your declaration elicits a hearty laugh from Jaeyun, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he shakes his head, seemingly amused by the idea of someone successful like you being envious of him.

Because little do you know, that behind the facade of excitement of his adventures lies a loneliness he's kept hidden for years. He couch surfs, has little money to his name, and lacks solid friends to call in times of need. He hasn’t even seen his family in years, missing out on cherished moments like Christmas and birthdays. Despite the allure of adventure and freedom, his heart aches for companionship, for someone to share his experiences with.

As if a lightbulb goes off atop his head, he bites his lip and begins to speak. “You could co-”

“Sorry guys, we actually need this table for a last-minute reservation, could you sit at the bar until a free table is available?” The interruption from your waiter cuts off Jaeyun before he can finish his sentence, leaving him momentarily stunned.

You glance at your phone and smile, "It’s getting late anyway so we should go. Thank you though," you respond politely, masking any disappointment you might feel.

Jaeyun nods in agreement, thanking the waiter once again before standing up. He holds out his hand for you to take as you rise from your chair, an action that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It’s not the gesture itself but the way he extended his hand without thinking about it.

Taking Jaeyun’s hand, you stand up, careful not to bump into anything as you step out from behind the table. Together, you retreat outside, the cool night air hitting your alcohol-flushed faces, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the crowded restaurant. The sensation brings a sense of relief, washing away the residual tension from the interrupted conversation.

Jaeyun notices the icy air, but instead of embracing it, his gaze falls on you, and he can't help but notice how your thin blouse must be providing little protection against the chill. Swiftly, he takes off his jacket and drapes it around your shoulders, adjusting it with care to ensure you're snug and warm.

You're taken aback by his offer, feeling a rush of gratitude and warmth flood through you at his thoughtful gesture. "Thank you," you say softly, a smile touching your lips as you pull the jacket tighter around you.

He returns your smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine affection. “Let me walk you home?” he offers, his tone gentle yet insistent.

You hesitate for a moment, trying to save him the inconvenience, but he's not fooled. Jaeyun knows the dangers of a woman walking alone at night, and while he trusts your ability to handle yourself, he wouldn't feel right if he left you and something did happen. Plus, deep down, he relishes the opportunity to spend as much time with you as possible.

Touched by his concern, you look up at him and offer a small smile. "I only live down the road, I'll be fine," you assure him, though the underlying appreciation in your voice is evident.

Jaeyun shakes his head with determination, a glint of resolve in his eyes. "I insist," he says firmly, reaching for your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I won't take no for an answer."

His sincerity and insistence warm your heart, and you find yourself relenting, knowing that his company will make the short walk home all the more enjoyable. With a grateful nod, you lead the way, feeling a sense of comfort and safety in his presence as you navigate the dimly lit streets together.

You really do only live about 10 minutes away, so the walk is quick by usual standards. Yet, tonight, you find yourself taking your time, savouring each step as if seeing the world through a new lens. Perhaps it's the lingering effects of the wine, or maybe it's the comforting presence of Jaeyun's hand in yours, but suddenly, the world feels lighter and fresher than it did just this morning.

As you stroll through the streets, you notice the ebb and flow of life around you. People are walking into bars, some are finishing up for the day, and others are simply enjoying a leisurely evening stroll. The streets hum with a busy yet serene energy, a unique blend of activity and tranquillity that can only be found when there's no rush to get from A to B.

Reaching your apartment building, you slow your pace, allowing yourself to take in the familiar surroundings with newfound appreciation. The soft glow of the streetlights casts a warm ambience over the building's facade, while the gentle hum of the city envelops you both.

You pause in front of the entrance, turning to Jaeyun with a smile. "This is me," you say, gesturing with the hand clasped in his, pulling him out of whatever thoughts have plagued him this whole journey.

While you were admiring your hometown, Jaeyun was overcome with thoughts that, once you reach your flat, this could be the last time he sees you again. He doesn’t want to come across as greedy for your time or clingy considering this is the first time you’ve both interacted in ten years, but he had so much fun that he doesn’t want it to end here.

Luckily for him, you have the same thoughts even if you aren’t projecting them in your manner the same way he is. “Would you like to come up?”

Your invitation hangs in the air, laden with the unspoken hope of spending just a little more time in each other’s company or maybe something else. Jaeyun's heart skips a beat as he meets your gaze, seeing a glimmer of anticipation reflected in your eyes. He hesitates for only a moment, the weight of his own desires battling against his fear of overstepping.

But in the end, the pull of your company proves too strong to resist. With a soft smile, Jaeyun nods, his voice barely above a whisper. "If that’s okay, I would love to."

The thing about you both is that you’re seeking companionship in one another while also oblivious that the other feels the same way. You aren’t noticing how Jaeyun subtly prolonged the walk, pulling you back a few times as if reluctant to let the evening end. And he certainly didn’t notice the hopeful glint in your eyes as you asked him for another bout of his time, knowing what this could lead to.

As you both step into the building and make your way up the stairs to your apartment, there's a quiet anticipation between you, a sense of possibility tinged with the thrill of the unknown. Each step brings you closer together, the space between you filled with unspoken thoughts and unvoiced desires.

As you unlock the door and step inside, the warmth of your home envelops you, a comforting embrace that welcomes Jaeyun into your world.

You are also very glad that you had that anxiety-induced cleanathon.

Jaeyun wipes his feet on your doormat before heading inside, looking around at your quaint yet busy home. “Your flat is nice. Homely.”

“I’m either here or the office so…” you explain, taking your shoes and his jacket off, discarding them on their appropriate stands.

Since you spend a lot of evenings in your office, which is sterile and minimalistic, you wanted the opposite tone for your house. You filled it with knick-knacks and plants, every available surface adorned with shelves or posters, while the warm orange paint added a cosy glow to the environment. This was your sanctuary and you couldn’t love it any more.

You wonder if you would love it so much if your office wasn’t your only other option of residence.

You open the refrigerator and peep at the beverages you have on hand. "Do you want a beer, wine, or I can make a coffee?” You offer, grinning and looking at Jaeyun.

“Beer sounds good, thank you,” Jaeyun replies, his attention drifting towards one of your paintings that hangs just beside a free-standing bookshelf filled with your favourite romance and fantasy books.

You don’t get the chance to read as often as you would like, but when you do, it has to be filled with a romance that is so out of reach that you can convince yourself that it would never happen to you anyway. If it’s too realistic, you start to feel a little burdened at the lack of love you receive from a partner.

Grabbing a beer for him and a glass of white for yourself, you make your way over to him, extending your hand as you offer him the ice-cold drink. He accepts it with an appreciative nod and suddenly, his eyes dart over to your University degrees, each one showcasing your incredible knowledge and talent. You always ended up top of your class with first honours, a testament to your hard work.

“You really made something of yourself, Y/N. It’s incredible.” Jaeyun says softly, clinking your glass with his bottle.

“Eh, it’s all amazing and then you’re suddenly working crazy hours with not so much as a thank you,” you shrug, voice bitter as you think about all the times your dedication to your clients goes by unnoticed. You don’t do it for the acknowledgment, however, when your colleagues are getting praise for doing the bare minimum, it starts to nag at you.

Turning to you, he tilts his head, “Do you hate it?”

Do you? That’s the big question. Maybe if you had stuck to immigration law like you wanted and weren’t swayed towards corporate all because your University advisor had told you ‘It’s what is best for someone of your calibre’ then maybe, just maybe, you would be content. You aren’t being fulfilled the way you hoped you would.

“I don’t think I hate the work as much as I hate the people. They are soulless, money-hungry, misogynistic pigs with no manners,” you say spitefully, the anger bubbling inside you evident in the fire that flashes in your eyes. As much as the job might not be totally fulfilling, you think you would enjoy it more if the men in your office or those you represent had even a shred of respect for you.

Your shoulders tense, the frustration threatening to overwhelm you, but as you hear Jaeyun’s subtle laughter, you whip your head around and knit your brows together. “What?” you demand, your tone sharp with irritation. There was nothing funny in your statement, so you're finding it rather difficult to understand the chuckle that is flooding your ear.

“No, no, I’m not laughing at your struggles,” he says softly, sensing your manner change to slightly standoffish. “It’s just…you haven’t changed. You’re still passionate and driven. Just like the girl I fell in--”

He stops himself abruptly, the words dying on his lips as he realises what he was about to say. Mentally kicking himself for almost letting slip, not once, but twice tonight, he trails off into an awkward silence, the unspoken words hanging heavily between you.

But you can’t let it slide a second time. If you’re going to talk about it, now is as good a time as any.

You inhale deeply, the air heavy as you gather your courage to broach the difficult conversation. It’s not one you particularly want to have, but you know it's necessary nonetheless. Steadying yourself, you meet Jaeyun's gaze with determination, steeling yourself for what's to come.

“Jaeyun, when you wrote that you thought you loved me in that letter, was it true?”

His initial shake of the head sends a pang of disappointment through you, but before you can fully process it, he continues, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity. He places his beer on the unit beside him and takes a step forward, his expression earnest.

“No,” he begins, and for a moment, you brace yourself for the finality of his words. But then he surprises you, his next words washing over you like a wave of relief and warmth. “I didn’t think I loved you, I knew it. I just didn’t want to come across as weird or pathetic.”

His honesty leaves you momentarily speechless, your heart racing as you take in the depth of his confession. And as he reaches out, gently taking the wine from your slightly trembling hands and setting it aside, your breath catches in your throat.

With both his hands cradling your face, you find yourself drawn into his gaze, the intensity of his eyes locking with yours. In that moment, time seems to stand still, the world around you fading into the background as you lose yourself in the connection between you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, I really am,” Jaeyun admits, his voice laced with regret as he pours out his heart to you. His eyes close for a moment, as if savouring the sensation of your face under his fingertips, the soft beating of your heart a comforting rhythm in the silence between you.

“Adult me hates teenage me for not jumping on the chance to tell you how beautiful and awe-inspiring I thought you were, that I still think you are,” he continues, his words filled with raw honesty. “I was scared because you were so out of my league that I felt ridiculous for even thinking you could love me back. I fucking regret it all because even though we never spoke, I knew I wanted to be with someone as brilliant and wonderful as you. I tried so hard to find someone like you over the years and yet not one person ever compared, because there is only one you, Y/N. And I hate that you weren’t mine for even a minute.”

You have no words to say and it agitates you because here was Jaeyun, telling you how he felt and you couldn’t even give him an ounce of assurance that you would have been his if he had just asked. Your feelings back then were not as intense as his but they were real all the same. No, you didn’t love him but you wonder if you could have.

Jaeyun leans in, resting his forehead against yours, nudging your nose with an affectionate, almost playful tenderness. His warm, alcohol-tinged breath washes over your face, causing you to close your eyes along with him, immersing yourself in the intimate moment passing between you both.

“I don’t want to make the same mistake, Y/N. I can’t.”

His words hang in the air, laden with meaning and urgency. Before you can fully process them, he kisses you. It's a kiss so tender, so full of reverence, it feels as if you were a delicate rose being presented to his most cherished person.

Despite the sincerity and fondness you feel through the gentle pressure of his lips, a wave of uncertainty washes over you. He is leaving for Malta in less than 48 hours, and the thought of the impending separation threatens to overshadow the moment of intimacy you share.

But in this moment, with Jaeyun's arms wrapped around you and his lips against yours, all thoughts of the future fade away. You're consumed by the warmth of his embrace, the sweetness of his kiss, and the undeniable chemistry that ignites between you.

You know there are risks involved, that giving yourself to him could lead to heartache when he inevitably leaves. But this might be the only chance to embrace him, to have him as your own, even for a moment, just as he had wanted all those years ago. Deep down, you know that you could live to regret not taking this chance, the same way he regrets not confessing to you in fourth year.

So you let your inhibitions go, allowing yourself to be swept away by the intensity of the moment. His tongue swipes over your lips, a soft purr escaping him as he seeks to taste more than just your cherry-tinted lip balm. You can't help but surrender to the intoxicating pull of desire.

He pushes you gently against the wall by your hips, his lips never leaving yours. His senses are overwhelmed by you in every way possible: the taste of you on his tongue, your perfume drifting into his nose, the feel of your body pressing against his, and the soft echoes of your moans filling his ears. He loves it all so much that he thinks he could get addicted to it.

As Jaeyun deepens the kiss, your hands instinctively find their way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. Each touch, each caress, feels electrifying, sparking a fervour that neither of you can ignore. The taste of him, mingled with the remnants of his drink, is intoxicating, making your heart race faster with every passing second.

Jaeyun’s hands wander from your hips, tracing the curves of your waist and back, committing the feel of you to memory. He pulls you closer, erasing any remaining space between you, the heat of his body seeping into yours. Your breaths come faster, mingling with his in the small, shared space between your mouths.

Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours once more, both of you breathing heavily. His eyes search yours, filled with an intensity that makes your knees weak. “Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, “I’ve wanted you for so long, even when I thought I would never see you again, I thought about you.”

“Yeah?” you ask breathlessly, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, your fingers tangling in the soft strands.

Nodding, Jaeyun’s features shift, his gaze darkening with a hunger that makes your pulse quicken. He kneels before you, his hands moving with deliberate slowness as he finds the zip at the back of your skirt. His fingers work the zipper down, the sound of it seeming loud in the charged silence of the room.

His eyes never leave yours as he sinks down, the skirt slipping down your legs to pool at your feet, leaving you in your white panties. The vulnerability of the moment sends a shiver down your spine, but Jaeyun's adoring gaze and gentle touch reassure you.

Jaeyun places his hands on your hips, his thumbs brushing over your skin in soothing circles. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe as he looks up at you from his kneeling position. His eyes trace the lines of your body, drinking in the sight of you.

The raw adoration in his gaze ignites a fire within you, and you feel a rush of emotions you can barely contain. “Jaeyun,” you breathe, your hands resting on his shoulders for balance as you steady yourself against the overwhelming surge of feelings.

His hands move from your hips to your thighs, his touch light but firm as he traces the contours of your legs. The anticipation builds with each gentle caress, your skin tingling under his fingertips. When he finally leans in, pressing a tender kiss just above the waistband of your panties, a soft gasp escapes your lips.

His touch is reverent, each movement deliberate and full of intent. He hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, looking up at you for permission. You nod, your breath hitching as he slowly slides them down, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

Jaeyun’s mind races as he sees you in this vulnerable state, yet he is the one who feels exposed. His feelings are pouring out of him like never before, and it’s all down to the fact that you bring that side out of him. No 16 year old should have had the emotional intelligence to decipher a crush from love, yet with you as his focus on the subject, he knew exactly what it was. While his friends were goofing off with people at parties and at the bike rack at school in a fleeting fling, he was wondering how he could make you his.

Looking at your exposed heat, he places a soft, lingering kiss just above your clit, making you jolt. You hadn’t expected him to find it so quickly, yet, it was as easy for him to find as a horse in a cow farm, like he had been doing this for years with you.

Once he feels your fingers threading through his hair, massaging his scalp, he takes it as the go-ahead to dive in deeper and explore you in ways he only imagined he could. Placing your left leg over his right shoulder and keeping his grip on your thigh for balance, he dips his tongue into your folds, moving in slow but strong strokes, lapping your taste up in his mouth. If your lips had him intoxicated, your pussy had him obsessed.

You throw your head against the wall and buck your hips up to open yourself up further to him, allowing him the privilege to get lost between your thighs and drink you up like a man deprived of cold water on a hot day. He’s so eager to please you that you can sense how much he is enjoying this, maybe even more than you are.

Jaeyun’s tongue swirls at the entrance of your core before he pushes in, tracing the bumps of your wall as he explores your pretty pussy and its tightness; he can only imagine what his cock will feel like clamped inside you, if you grant him the honour to do so.

One thing you crushed on Jaeyun the most over in secondary school was his nose - the prominent feature stood out against everything else and you couldn’t help but marvel at it from time to time. Big noses have been your weakness since your hormones started to kick in and Jaeyun’s was perfect. You know this for a fact now as it brushes on your clit as he slurps and sucks up your cunt.

You revel in the sensation, how his enthusiastic and skilled mouth shivers down your spine. It's a testament to his attention to detail, his dedication to your pleasure evident in every movement, every touch.

His hands paw at your thighs as he loses himself in worshipping your mound. It’s tang on his taste buds only driving him further into madness - he can’t believe how lucky he is in this moment, so much so that he is grinning like a Cheshire cat as he continues to devour you.

“Jaeyun-” you breathe out sharply, the air in your chest leaving your body as he licks fast stipes up to your clit, focusing his attention where he knows you want it most. It is truly remarkable how well he knows you despite only knowing you from afar until now.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he mumbles into your cunt, burying his face into you as he laps up the juices that are leaking from your hole, “I’m here to please you, please let me.” Jaeyun doesn’t mean for it to come off as begging but he is so desperate for you he can't help it; and when your thighs tense slightly at his words, he thinks perhaps you want him to plead with you.

You’re so used to being around men who think that they own you, that are superior to you, that as Jaeyun asks you to let him pleasure you, it's a refreshing change. His words, muffled against your wetness, carry a genuine desire to fulfil your every desire. You can feel the sincerity in his actions, the earnestness in his plea.

“I want you to make me cum, please, Jaeyun. I need it so bad,” you whisper into the hot atmosphere that surrounds you both. You’re close and he can sense it too and right now, that is all you care about. You need to feel that satisfaction rush over you, your body is aching for it because it knows Jaeyun can bring you to that peak.

Whimpering below you, Jaeyun loses all sense of control and picks up his pace, his fingers now circling your entrance before slipping into you, scissoring you open in a mix of gentleness and roughness. He loves the idea of being able to touch you like this and make you release over his hand and tongue.

Nibbling at your clit is the final straw and you feel that tightness in your stomach and clench in your pussy as you cry out, cumming all over his face. The whites of your eyes come to the forefront as your entire body rolls and the wave of your climax consumes you like a tsunami. The grip you have on his hair tightens and you hold him in place, your body riding his face as his nose, tongue, and fingers work in tandem with you to help you ride out your high.

You don’t think you’ve cum so hard from just oral, these types of experiences being between you and your toys. Jaeyun is a man above the rest and you can’t wait to have more of him.

As he gently guides your leg back to the ground, his hands steady you as you tremble in the aftermath of pleasure. His thoughts wander, contemplating the possibility of lingering between your thighs for just a few more precious moments, coaxing yet another orgasm from your willing body.

For Jaeyun, the idea of bringing you to such heights of ecstasy is not just a source of pride but pure joy. The thought of surrendering himself completely to your pleasure fills him with a sense of fulfilment like nothing else. In a world where some might find embarrassment, he finds only bliss in the act of surrendering to his woman, to you.

Looking down at him, his eyes locking with yours past your heaving chest, you moan quietly at the sight of him; his hair dishevelled thanks to your hands, your juices over his face and lips which he wipes his fat tongue along to collect, and his eyes filled with pure adoration and lust.

You’re never going to be able to let him go.

Tracing a path of tender kisses along your body, his lips remain in constant contact with your skin, leaving a trail of warmth and sensation in their wake. With each gentle press of his lips, he conveys his adoration and reverence for every inch of you. It's a silent yet powerful declaration of his desire to explore and worship every part of your being.

Once he reaches your neck, he stops, nibbling softly at your nape. "God, you taste so good," he murmurs against your skin, his breath warm against your neck. "I could spend forever right here, just worshipping you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a delicious anticipation building within you at the thought of what's to come. You tilt your head slightly, granting him better access, silently urging him to continue his actions.

"I could lose myself in you," he continues, his voice husky with desire. "Every touch, every kiss, I want to claim every part of you for myself, even just for tonight.”

His honesty pangs in your chest because what if it is just for tonight? The probability of that is high and yet you don’t dare think about it, the revelation too upsetting for you to consider. So you push it down, committing yourself to enjoy this, regardless of the what-ifs. Having him now is all that matters and you’re going to relish in it.

Grabbing his t-shirt, you yank it off his body and kiss him desperately, your arms finding home around his neck as you waltz him to your bedroom, thankful for your familiarity with your apartment as you weave around coffee tables and decorative baskets.

As you reach the bedroom, a primal need surges between you, an urgency and determination unlike anything you've experienced before. With a sense of raw desire, you turn him around and push him onto the bed, your actions driven by an irresistible force that neither of you can deny.

Straddling him, you see his face light up in excitement and glee as you initiate the next move. Jaeyun loves it when his eagerness is reciprocated and by the way your thighs are squeezing each of his sides and your hands are cradling his face as you kiss him messily, he feels so wanted at this moment.

His hands eagerly grasp at your blouse, urgency guiding his movements as he tears it open and discards it aside. With unbridled desire, he buries his face into your chest, kissing and nibbling at the exposed flesh above your bra. Fingers knead and lift your tits, enhancing the sensation as he revels in the intimate contact between skin and skin.

The heat between you intensifies and Jaeyun's ardour only grows stronger. His lips trail from your chest to your neck, peppering kisses along the sensitive skin, igniting a flurry of sensations that ripple through your body.

With a skilful touch, his hands explore the curves of your body, tracing the contours with a fervent hunger. Fingers dance over the fabric of your bra, teasingly tracing the edges before deftly unhooking it, revealing your breasts in all their glory.

“You’re a fucking dream, Sweetheart,” he confesses, knowing that you have, in fact, clouded his dreams some nights. “You always have been.”

Grabbing his chin gently, you lift his eyes to meet yours and smile fondly, showcasing your affection through your sparkling pupils. “You’re so pretty, Jaeyun,” you utter quietly as each syllable matches the thumping in his chest.

Jaeyun flushes red and smiles brightly, like you’ve just called him a good boy and he’s your golden retriever. What you don’t expect is for him to open his mouth just wide enough to poke his tongue out, asking for something.

It takes a moment for you to grasp his silent request, but once you do, your hold on his chin transitions to his jaw, gently urging it wider as you oblige, softly spitting into his waiting mouth. A soft whimper escapes his throat as his eyes flutter closed, savouring the intimate exchange with an fervour.

Emboldened by the connection between you, you lean in closer, your lips brushing against his in a silent promise of more to come. His response is immediate, a soft moan escaping his lips as he eagerly presses himself against you, seeking to deepen the connection between your bodies.

You feel his clothed cock against your naked heat and suddenly the room is filled with explicit moans, both of you dry-humping one another like horny teens. It’s electric and you both want each other more than any destination or University degree, it feels like you’ve found your hearts true desires in the confines of this bedroom.

“Let me have you,” His plea resonates in the air, heavy with longing and urgency, as his fingertips caress every contour of your exposed skin, eliciting a cascade of goosebumps in their wake. "Please, Y/N," he groans, his voice thick with desire, the intensity of his gaze locking with yours in an unspoken plea for surrender.

“If you let me have you,” you whisper into his mouth, ghosting your lips above his,

“Baby, you’ve had me for a lifetime.”

His response is without a moment of silence, followed by a deep kiss that ignites a fire within you both, drawing you into a passionate embrace. With a gentle yet possessive grip, he pulls you closer, his hands trailing down to caress the curves of your ass. The sharp sound of his gentle slaps mingles with your moans, echoing off the walls as pleasure courses through your veins.

As the heat between you reaches its peak, you break the kiss with a soft gasp, a mischievous glint in your eyes. With a playful smirk, you slide your hands down to the waistband of his trousers, fingers deftly undoing the buttons as you tease him with each deliberate movement.

Jaeyun watches you with a mix of anticipation and desire, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he eagerly awaits your next move. You climb off him for a moment as you peel his trousers and boxers down his legs, revealing his hardened length, aching for your touch. His arousal is evident and his cock is thick and twitching with its need to be buried inside of you.

Discarding the trousers aside, you meet his gaze with a wicked grin, your desire mirroring his as you hover above him. Your eyes sparkle playfully as you slink forward, your lips caress his teasingly, then trail kisses down his chest, creating a path of fire in your wake. Jaeyun's breath hitches as he watches you with rapt attention; his anticipation grows with every second.

Your fingertips follow enticingly down his thighs as you approach his waist, sending shivers of expectation coursing through his body. You gently but firmly guide his legs apart so that you can lower yourself between them for better access.

Grinning slyly, you approach him closely, your breath ghosting over his skin as you torment him with every instant that passes. Then you take him quickly into your mouth and engulf him with a hunger that leaves him panting for air.

Jaeyun surrenders to the thrilling sensation as waves of pleasure rush over him; his hands tangling in your hair as he leads you, lost in the depths of bliss. In this moment, there is nothing but the two of you, bound together by a passion that knows no bounds.

However, as good as your mouth feels, and fuck does it feel good, Jaeyun needs to be enveloped by your warm walls, he craves it like an addiction, and he genuinely thinks that once he gets a taste of you wrapped around him, he might just have to check himself into pussy anonymous.

Using his grip on your hair, he yanks you up off of him, causing confusion to overcome your expression. “Baby, if I’m not fucking you in the next 3 seconds, I might just die,” he laughs but he is serious, you can tell he is by how he’s already grasping his cock with his freehand and holding it in position for you to sink onto it.

So that is exactly what you do. You straddle him one more, lining him up at your entrance before slowly easing your way onto him. With each inch, you take your time, allowing yourself to adjust to his size, the sensation of him filling you completely overwhelming your senses. Jaeyun's hands grip your hips tightly, guiding you as you slowly sink down onto him, his breath catching in his throat as you finally envelop him completely.

Due to his thickness, you take your time to adjust to his size, grinding on him to open you up a bit more, not that any of you mind because as you do so, the tip of his dick is brushing inside you blissfully.

"You're taking me so well, beautiful," Jaeyun says, his voice hoarse with need, his hands tracing patterns of heat over your skin. "I was made for you.”

You begin to ride him while moaning gently beneath your breath. At first, your motions are shallow as you slowly elevate your hips. Each motion causes a surge of pleasure to course through your body, sparking a fire that grows more intense with each passing second.

Jaeyun's hands are firmly grasping your hips, directing you as you find your rhythm. His own groans blend with yours to create a symphony of want. Your walls are squeezing his thick cock so tight that each time he lifts you higher, the bell of his cock snags on your entrance, trapping him inside.

“You’re bouncing on my cock so well, Y/N,” he compliments as he kisses you gently on your bouncing tit. His heavy breath mists over your heart and it clenches along with your core. He’s so beautiful and adoring that he has ruined every other man for you.

As the ecstasy consumes both of you, Jaeyun's control starts unravelling and his primitive impulses begin to take over as he loses himself in the intensity of the moment. He jackhammers himself further into you with each thrust and he lets out a howl, completely losing all control of his movements. His thrusts become more frantic and more desperate as he hears your cries of pleasure.

The rhythm of your fucking frenzy transforms into a symphony of desire, the sound of his hips meeting yours echoing off the walls as he pounds into you with unrestrained passion. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

You cling to him desperately, lost in the overwhelming intensity as you surrender yourself completely to the pleasure that consumes you. With each powerful buck of his hips, you feel yourself hurtling towards the brink, the sensation building to a fever pitch as you both race towards the climax that awaits.

"F-Fuck, Jaeyun!" you groan out, your voice a mixture of pleasure and desperation as you hug his head between your cleavage, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation coursing through your body.

Jaeyun is completely lost in the moment, his focus solely on the incredible feeling of being enveloped by you. He bites down harshly on one of your breasts, leaving a bruise as a mark of his passion, eliciting a cry of pleasure mixed with a hint of pain from you.

Taking control, Jaeyun’s only objective now is to feel you cumming on his cock, so he picks up the pace, bringing your body down to lie on top of him as he sinks into your mattress. Using his legs as anchors, he thrusts into you with an otherworldly speed, each movement driving you closer to the edge.

“Come on, Sweetheart, cum all over me,” he grits out, all of his focus on his hips.

The slapping of your skin and how his tip is puncturing your cervix is enough to tumble you over, a roar leaving your mouth as you come undone just as he wanted. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jaeyun!” You can’t form coherent sentences because to put it plainly, the dick is too good. It’s rendered you dumb and the only thoughts in your mind are; Jaeyun, cock, feels good, cumming.

Smiling brightly beneath you, Jaeyun marvels at your face as you let the pleasure take over. Your eyes are screwed shut and your mouth is open wide with short breaths escaping, your chest is panting against his and he can feel your heart race against his.

“That’s it, baby. God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” Jaeyun whispers earnestly.

As you start to relax into the aftermath of your second orgasm of the night, he picks up the pace again, now content to seek his own release. Clawing down your back, he holds your hips still and batters into your sensitive and spent pussy, knowing that the beating it just took must have left you sore, so he needs to cum quickly.

You aid him in his quest for release, showering him with kisses across his chest, neck, and face, your droopy eyes still gleaming with adoration despite the ache that lingers within you. "Jaeyun, you're fucking me so good," you whisper gently into his ear, nibbling at his lobe in a gesture of encouragement that sends a jolt of electricity coursing through him, his length throbbing inside of you in response.

Empowered by your words, Jaeyun's rhythm becomes even more intense, his movements propelled by an innate urge to reach his climax, which between your tight cunt and your seductive words, it doesn’t take him long.

"I'm cumming, fuck, I'm cumming, Baby," Jaeyun mewls, his voice strained with desperation as he tries to push you off of him, but you hold him firmly in place, unwilling to let him escape the imminent release.

With a whispered plea, you encourage him to let go completely, to surrender to the intoxicating pleasure that courses through both of you. "Cum inside me, Jaeyun. Let me feel you," you urge, your voice filled with lust and longing.

He shakes his head and tries to roll over to pull out, yet you remain headstrong and unyielding to his attempts of escape. “I have the implant, Jaeyun, you can cum in me as much as you want.”

The lawyer in you is furious that you’re letting him bust a nut inside of you due to your irresponsibility, but the happy and content you is relishing in the fact that any second, you’re going to be filled with Sim Jaeyun’s seed.

Looking deep into your eyes, he sees you’re serious and huffs out a laugh of joy. It's not that he didn't want to experience the ecstasy of releasing inside you - ask the stars, he did - but he also understands the importance of being responsible.

However, as you resume your rhythm, bouncing on his cock and firmly holding him down by his chest, any lingering hesitation evaporates. He becomes consumed by the overwhelming pleasure, his primal instincts driving him to chase his climax with an intensity that matches yours.

“Cum for me, Jaeyun, please,” you beg, wanting nothing more at this moment.

Coaxed by your words and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him, Jaeyun succumbs to the irresistible urge to release deep inside you. With one final, powerful thrust, he empties himself into you, his hips stilling as he rides out the waves of his high.

"Fuck, Baby, fuck I'm cumming, don't stop."

The sounds that escape his lips are a symphony of pleasure, soft yet needy, low but whiney, a perfect embodiment of every fantasy you've ever entertained. As you massage his chest and shoulders, soothing him down from his orgasm, his features are painted with bliss and love, a smile mirroring your own as he gazes at you with adoration.

"You're amazing, truly out of this world, Y/N L/N," Jaeyun huffs out, his voice filled with reverence and admiration.

Gently moving you off him, he guides your head to the pillow before hovering over you, peppering your lips with affectionate kisses. Finally, he settles on top of you, his head resting against your chest, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat calming him instantly.

Resting his chin in the valley between your breasts, Jaeyun's touch is gentle as he reaches up, tenderly tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. There's a glimmer of something in his eyes, a silent contemplation that leaves you wondering what he's about to say next.

For a fleeting moment, you fear he might choose to end the encounter, bidding you farewell with a polite smile and a promise to call. But to your surprise, he does the opposite.

"Come with me, Y/N," he says, his voice soft yet filled with determination.

Stunned, you feel your chest tighten as you replay his words in your mind, each repetition only adding to the disbelief that swirls within you. There is no way he is asking you this when this is the first time you’ve really spoken to one another. He might as well be asking a blind date he’s just met to leave with him.

"What?" you manage to utter, blinking at him in shock.

For Jaeyun, however, there's no hesitation. In his heart, nothing has ever felt more right. He's harboured feelings for you for so long that now, with you in his arms, he's determined not to let you slip away so easily, even if that means proposing a notion that can be deemed outlandish.

"To Malta, to everywhere you want to go," he continues, his voice filled with sincerity and a touch of vulnerability. "Come with me."

You stay silent, nervously biting your lip, there isn’t much you can say, your inner battle between your head and your heart make it difficult to hear anything clearly.

Noticing your silence, he offers you a gentle smile and grabs one of your hands, kissing your palm gently. “Y/N, you’re miserable here, I can feel it. You’ve practically said it yourself,” he argues with you even if he cannot hear your turmoil, “Think about it; you come with me, experience everything you’ve ever wanted, study Immigration Law at one of those Open Universities if you want, or do literally anything else that makes you happy.”

You shake your head. "I'm not miserable, Jaeyun."

“Then tell me you’re happy.”

Silence ensues. A profound quietness fills the space because...you can't. You can't fabricate happiness. Are you content with your life? Undoubtedly. But true happiness eludes you. Until he posed that question, until you stood eye to eye with him, you had mistaken contentment for fulfilment, believing that your family and friends held the key to your happiness, that working hard to get to the top of your law firm was all you could want. But you aren't truly happy.

“Y/N, I came here for you,” he admits, his voice just above a whisper.

“What do you mean?” you ask, confusion palpable in your manner.

“I was supposed to be leaving the UK straight to Malta. I had my bags packed and ready to go and then I got your message on Instagram. Before I could even reply, I was changing my flight to come home to see you. I just…I couldn’t let the chance of seeing you pass me by,” his voice quivers with raw emotion as he speaks, his grasp on your hand tightening, “Do you know how many times I’ve hovered over that stupid send button, desperate to reach out but was too scared to? When you got that letter and messaged me about it, I knew this was my only shot and I couldn’t waste it.”

Jaeyun, deep down, is still the scared teenage boy who wrote you that letter. You can see him fighting himself, terrified that as he pours his heart out to you that it’ll be a disaster, but he has spent so long contemplating what life could have been had he just plucked up the courage that right now, he’s powering through his insecurities to try and reach your heart.

You sit up, intertwining his fingers in yours as a form of reassurance. “Did you come here to see if I would come with you?” you query, the tone of your voice light despite the heaviness of the subject.

"No, I came here because I wanted to see you and...to see if I could find some closure for teenage me," Jaeyun begins, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand. The nakedness of both of you both being and soul amplifies the vulnerability that envelops you. "But I can't bear the thought of losing you again."

"You don't really know me, Jaeyun," you counter, not with hostility but with a sense of realism.

How could he be so sure he wants you by his side when he knows you as far as he could throw you? Sure, you have both connected in a way you didn’t know was possible in the past 7 hours, and you have in some way known one another for years, but you don’t know each other. Not enough to leave the country with him…right?

With a sigh, Jaeyun gently strokes your hair, his gaze softening with affection. "I do know you, Y/N. I see you for everything you are, I always have," he insists, his voice now infused with unwavering determination. “I don’t know if I love you the same way I did ten years ago, we’re both different people. But I want the chance to find out, I want the chance to fall in love with you as you are right now.”

You stare into his eyes, contemplating your future. You could stay here and go about your life as is, sitting in a swimming pool of ‘what could have been’, forced to see bosses who could never give you the time of day, or you could follow Jaeyun, explore the world and let your hair down, meet new people and enjoy everything that life is supposed to be. Pragmatically, you have enough savings to get you by and worst case, you work shitty jobs in beautiful cities.

There is nothing holding you back except yourself.

With a beaming smile, you nod a silent promise to him. “Can we go to Venice?”

Jaeyun's eyes widen in surprise at your request, a flicker of disbelief dancing in their depths. But as he takes in the earnestness in your gaze, the longing for adventure and new beginnings, his heart swells with a profound sense of gratitude.

"Venice, huh?" he echoes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Let's do it.”

The words hang between you, laden with the promise of excitement and possibility. You leap forward and kiss him, pushing his back onto the mattress once again, enjoying the moment with him, knowing it’s not the end but the beginning of future you.

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florencemtrash · 21 hours

Text

Take it Off - Azriel x Reader

Summary: You and Azriel have been friends for centuries... but what happens when he wakes up one day to find that things have changed? And how will he react when you start wearing Cassian's clothes?

Warnings: Angst. Jealous Azriel. Suggestiveness and then some (I don't know what warning to put, but it's spicier than my usual stuff is all I'll say). Cassian is an absolute menace... good for him

Author's note: Did I write this to procrastinate editing SSIB Ch 22 after watching Bridgerton S3?... yes

Is this a fucking game to you?

Cassian grinned over the lip of his cup, raising his brow in a poorly disguised expression of confusion. He’d been playing the innocent fool all throughout breakfast, seemingly oblivious to the daggers Azriel was throwing his direction every time he made you laugh.

Internally, he and Nesta were both cackling. He threw his arm over the back of his meta’s chair, plucking the cream puff she held out for him, and tossing it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin.

I’ve not the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Azriel. Although it hurts me deeply to see you so upset.

Upset was an understatement. Azriel was holding onto his glass of orange juice so tightly cracks were beginning to form beneath his fingertips.

You elbowed Azriel in the ribs, brows furrowed as you pointed your slice of toast towards his hand. “Are you ok?” You whispered low and just for his ears.

The molten anger in his eyes melted away, hazel eyes softening as he took in your concerned expression. You were the first and only one of his family members to watch him so intensely. You could unravel the meaning in every twitch of his jaw, every rhythmic tap of his fingers against his thigh, every flicker of his shadows. You knew when he was upset, when he was happy, and when he wanted to laugh but had trouble expressing it. The only thing you weren’t aware of when it came to Azriel was how unbelievably in love with you he was.

But that was his own fault.

You’d watched him fawn over Mor for centuries, watched as he practically crawled on hand and knees for any kernel of affection she was willing to throw his way. Then, when you thought he’d finally gotten over his feelings for her, he’d chased after Elain’s heels like a dog in heat. You didn’t even want to begin thinking about Gwyn and the way she’d trampled over his hopes with the simple phrase, “I love you as a friend, Azriel. Nothing more.”

No. It was entirely his fault that you’d learned to bury your own feelings for him so deep they’d become background noise — as inconsequential and ever present as the sound of your own breathing.

Still… you couldn’t help but notice the secrets swimming in his eyes, the hurt and longing there that you could only guess the origin of. Who’d hurt him this time? You wondered.

“I’m fine.” Azriel whispered, his hands ghosting over your thighs before deciding against touching you there.

You hummed, clearly unconvinced. You held your toast in between your teeth, tasting the raspberry jam explode on your tongue as you reached over and carefully peeled Azriel’s fingers off his injured glass.

His heart stuttered at the sight of your lips as they closed around your thumb, licking away crumbs and jam from your fingertips. But then his gaze dropped to your chest and his stomach soured.

As Madja’s apprentice, you’d acquired a special interest in botany — an interest that had all but shoved you into Feyre’s studio so you could learn the skills necessary to depict all manner of flora and fauna in your field journal. When you’d complained about finding paint and charcoal stains over your clothes, Cassian had jumped on the opportunity to give you his old shirts to use as painting smocks. He had to congratulate himself for the stroke of genius. After all, he and Nesta had been discussing plans on how to get Azriel to admit his feelings for months now.

Azriel did not respond well to outright suggestions or bullying. If he told Azriel to pull his head out of his ass and ask you on a proper date, the Shadowsinger would only hunker down on his preconceptions that he was unloveable, and that you were far too good for him. If he revealed to Azriel that you’d secretly loved him for decades that would only make him feel even more embarrassment and shame.

No.

Jealousy worked far better when it came to Azriel.

You looked comfortable and happy in Cassian’s clothes — a fact that escaped no one’s notice. You had the sleeves rolled up past your elbows, the rows of buttons at your back haphazardly done without wings to accommodate. You’d worn that particular shirt a half dozen times now and replaced any scent of Cassian with your own.

Still, you were wearing another male’s shirt… and it was starting to drive Azriel insane.

“I was going to get rid of these and thought you might like them for… painting.” Azriel shifted on his feet, holding out the neatly stacked pile of clothes for you.

You were laying on your stomach in bed, colored pencils and textbooks splayed out around you, but quickly righted yourself and sifted through the piles he handed you.

You held one up for a better look.

“Azriel, you were just wearing this last week.” It still smelled like him — the scent of the Illyrian mountains at night woven through the soft, cotton material. “I can’t take this. Or this. Or this!”

“I have more just like them.”

You huffed, fists balanced on your hips.

Azriel was a simple male with ample space in his wardrobe. When he wasn’t in his Illyrian leathers he wore the same three outfits on rotation, all of them nearly identical. If there was anyone who shouldn’t be giving away clothes, it was Azriel.

“I really appreciate it, Az, but I’m ok. I don’t need these. Cassian already gave me enough hand-me-downs to last two decades at least.”

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped out. “Well I’m glad for that.” He was practically seething. You noticed, as you always did, but you couldn’t imagine that you were the cause of his frustrations.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Az? You’ve been acting strangely the past few days.”

“It’s nothing.”

“I doubt that.”

There were various things on his mind, chief among them you. So he took hold of the olive branch you’d extended him and laid down beside you, talking about everything and nothing at all. But one thing he avoided talking about at all costs was how the gentle scraping of your nails through his hair as he rested his head in your lap made him want to lock the door and never come out.

He wanted to bury his face beneath your sundress and then tear it to pieces. He wanted to dive under the covers and leave an assortment of marks on your skin. To hold you so close that you began to smell like one another.

You lay down beside him, leaning your head against his shoulder so he caught whiffs of your elderberry and lemon shampoo.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? That’s what friends are for.”

Right… friends. He was starting to hate that word.

“Yes… I know.”

How long do you think he’ll last?

Nesta felt Cassian’s soft laugh blow over the back of her neck as they crouched just behind the door of Feyre's painting studio.

Azriel had been undeniably irritable the last two weeks, his patience fraying like a linen skirt with the hem torn off. Cassian was still sporting a bruise on his cheek from this morning’s sparring session after one of his teasing remarks had hit a little too close to home.

Not much longer. Look at him, Nes. He’s practically vibrating.

Nesta slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter.

Azriel was restless, his wings kept opening and closing with agitation and the curve of his ears had long since turned a bright shade of pink. He’d had his shadows knock over a cup of ink earlier, sending its contents splattering over your shirt and staining the fabric beyond repair. But you’d only shrugged and said, “It’s my painting shirt. It’s meant to get dirty,” before going back to your canvas with a soft smile. The moment you’d turned your back to him, he’d silently cursed the ceiling.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He kicked himself, too focused on your continuing conversation to think that his meddling brother and sister-in-law might be watching.

He hadn’t expected his emotions to take over so quickly, least of all with you. You’d been his best friend for over two hundred years. You were a staple in his life, more familiar to him than the childhood blanket he still had tucked away in his drawer. There was no reason why he should suddenly wake up one day and realize with a shock of surprise that he loved you and couldn’t imagine living in a world that didn’t have you in it.

It had been such a silly moment as well. You’d been getting ready for Starfall, your hair done up and a flush of color spread over your cheeks and lips. He’d come to check in on you and lost his breath when he saw you sitting at the vanity, holding up earrings to your neck to see if they matched the satin of your deep blue gown. And then you’d politely asked him to lace up your dress and he’d nearly swallowed his tongue in surprise, forcing his hands to stop shaking as they brushed against your spine. Gods he’d wanted to throw himself off a balcony that night, if only because you’d be the one tasked with healing him.

He wanted to throw himself off the balcony now. Let the ground swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to make a fool of himself in front of you… again.

I give it another week. Nesta declared.

Cassian smirked. I know my brother. He won’t last another three days.

In the end they were both wrong.

It only took two days for Azriel to finally snap.

“Take it off.”

You swiveled around in your chair, tongue pressing against your cheek as you wondered what gave Azriel the audacity to march into your private lesson with Feyre and make such an out-of-character demand.

“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

Azriel stood as still as an obsidian statue in the doorway. His wings loomed over his shoulders, talons reaching towards the ceiling tense and twitching.

“Take. It. Off,” he repeated through gritted teeth. He clutched a neatly folded shirt in his hands, knuckles pale and bloodless from the tight grip. You’d been wearing Cassian’s clothes almost every day this past week and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t stand sitting beside you at the dinner table or in the library, the laughter in his throat dying when he caught Cassian’s scent drifting off your skin.

It was maddening the way you didn’t think anything of it.

Yes, Cassian was practically a brother to you, and yes, he was a mated male but… fuck it bothered Azriel so much to think of anyone else laying claim to you. To think that one day you might actually walk around wearing another male’s clothes because you loved them. To think that that male wouldn’t be him.

He’d tried to bring up the topic with you in his own round-about way, but you’d shrugged off all his suggestions of wearing something — anything — else.

“If you want painting clothes, why don’t we go shopping this afternoon? I’m sure Feyre has recommendations. Or we could just walk around the Rainbow until something catches your eye.”

“I’m not a full time artist, and it seems silly to spend money on clothes you intend to ruin.”

“Why don’t you ask Feyre or Mor for hand-me-downs then? They’ll fit you better and the sleeves won’t drag so much.”

“I like it when my clothes are loose.”

Feyre glanced between the two of you, namely the flare of Azriel’s nostrils and the way he ground his teeth so intently you worried he’d crack a tooth.

“I’m… going to leave now.”

“Wait—Feyre!”

The High Lady kissed your cheek, a knowing look in her eyes, before scurrying out the door.

Don’t scowl so much, Az, you’re making her nervous. She chirped to the Shadowsinger before slipping down the hallway and disappearing.

She made it all of ten feet down the hall before crowing, “It’s happening!” to the others.

It’s happening?! Mor leapt out from her bedroom, a robe hastily tied around her waist and soap suds clinging to her hair. “Fey—” she hissed.

Feyre pressed a finger up to her lips, cutting her off. They’re in the art studio now.

I fucking KNEW IT! Mor squealed in delight, stomping her feet soundlessly into the floorboards as she allowed Feyre to grab her wrist and drag her forward.

I won the bet, Nes.

You didn’t win, we both lost!

Semantics.

Why you bas—

Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Cassian, and Nesta streamed into the foyer. There was an air vent here that led directly to the art studio two floors above them and painted over so expertly it may as well have been part of the molding. The sounds traveling through it were muffled by echos and distance, but nothing that fae hearing and magic couldn’t overcome.

“That’s it!” The chair you’d been sitting in skittered back with a squeak. “What is your problem, Azriel? You’ve been agitated for weeks now. You won’t tell me, or any of the others, what’s wrong and every time Cassian so much as glances in your direction you look like you want to tear his throat out!”

Azriel said nothing as you stomped forward and dragged him into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Whiskey eyes flickered down to your hand — the hand you currently had closed around his wrist — and he shuddered.

You didn’t even want to begin to unpack the hidden meaning of that response as you brought him to the center of the room and let go.

He dropped the shirt on the nearby desk, hands lowering to the hem of your painting smock with a grimace.

“I need you to take this off.” He repeated with a frown.

“What kind of person marches into a room and demands that their friend take off their shirt?”

He flinched at that word — friend.

“Az!” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and his anger. “What is going on with you?!”

“It’s nothing.” He growled out, but he tugged at the hem like its very existence was a personal offense.

“Clearly it’s not nothing.”

“Can you just take off your shirt and put this one on?”

You shoved him away. It wasn’t even like he was asking you to get naked, you both knew you were wearing something beneath this, but it was the way he was asking that grated on your nerves — like what he was requesting was perfectly normal and you were the ridiculous one for not listening.

“No.” You folded your arms over your chest with a huff. You were just being stubborn now, but you didn’t care.

His eyes turned tortured and he clasped his hands together in front of you. “Please?” He begged.

“No! Not until you tell me what’s going on and why you’re acting this way!”

“I don’t want to have this discussion while you’re standing there smelling like another male!”

That was… not what you were expecting.

You gaped at him, unsure whether to howl with laughter, or slap him across the face.

“That’s what this is about? You’re upset because I’m wearing Cassian’s clothes?” You gagged at the mere thought of what Azriel was insinuating.

“Well that was a little hurtful.” Cassian mumbled.

Mor slapped the back of his head. “Shhhhh. I’m trying to listen.”

Azriel shifted on his feet, color beginning to spread high on his cheekbones. “It’s not about Cassian… not really…”

You tapped your foot on the ground, waiting for him to continue. Azriel felt naked. Stripped back like one of your insect specimens lit up beneath a microscope. Your eyes raked over his every movement. Even his shadows, usually so attention-seeking, cowered behind their master’s back whispering to one another about how Azriel might dig himself out of his own grave.

“Well?” You snapped.

Azriel shrank back, “I… I like you, Y/n.”

You rolled your eyes, “I know, that’s why we’re friends. I like you too.”

“No. Not… not like that.” Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh I’m fucking this up so badly it’s not even funny anymore.”

“I don’t even know what it is you’re fucking up. I—”

“I love you, ok?” He said in a burst of energy. “I love you and not in the way that friends are meant to love one another and Cassian’s an idiot and I’m a jealous bastard and I… I…”

You stared back dumbly. “You can’t mean that.”

Azriel’s face fell. “And why not?”

“Because I have been here for decades, centuries,” you jabbed his chest with a finger, “And you never once looked at me that way. Never once considered me as anything more than a friend. You’re upset because I’ve been wearing Cassian’s clothes the last few weeks? Well guess what, Az, I’ve watched you walk in and out of those doors for years with your poorly concealed hickies and that lovesick look on your face, and I never made it your problem or anyone else’s.”

“Well I want you to!” He shouted. It was the first and only time you could remember him raising his voice. “I want you to make it my problem, Y/n. I want you to tell me that you love me and I want you to shout at me for all the stupid decisions I’ve made because I’m yours. I’m yours to shout at. I’m yours to get angry with. I’m yours to love if you’ll still have me and…” Azriel gasped for breath, chest heaving as he came face to face with the fact that he’d just said those words out loud. Those words that he’d kept close to his chest with the rest of his secrets. Those words that proved just how completely at your mercy he was.

Please say you’ll still have me. His eyes begged.

When you didn’t move or say anything, he felt a piece of his heart wither away. He lowered his eyes, suddenly interested in a speckle of red paint that had smeared under his boot, “Forgive me. I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t… I shouldn’t have—”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Azriel.” You muttered breathlessly.

Then you flung yourself into his arms and crashed your lips into his.

Kissing Azriel was better than you could have ever imagined. The fantasies you’d constructed late in the night when you were lonely blew apart like paper houses, crumbling in the face of reality. His mouth fumbled for purchase against your lips before slotting into place with a strangled moan. He lifted you in the air and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, tightening them until you could feel him harden between your legs.

His tongue flitted over your lips tasting like oranges and magic.

But his hands.

His hands.

You couldn’t get enough of them as they slid up and down your back, squeezing and pressing into your skin until he’d memorized the curve of your spine. You wove your fingers in his hair, tilting his head so you could stare into his hazel eyes before diving in for another taste.

He walked you back to the desk, shadows flinging the tins of charcoal and pastel pencils off the furniture so you could perch there instead. Then he surged forward, pressing his hips into the space between your legs so he could feel the heat that gathered there. It sent shivers down his spine.

This… this was everything he’d ever wanted. You were everything he’d ever wanted. Not some unapproachable female he admired from afar but hardly knew, but someone who’d seen every inch of his soul and never flinched. Someone who’d nestled into the hidden corners of his heart and grown there like a willow tree.

You moved your hands over the wide expanse of his back, digging your nails in to feel every twitch of muscle, every shudder, as he latched onto the side of your neck and slid his tongue over the sensitive skin there.

He smelled like mountain rain. Like fresh wind and petrichor and sea salt.

You smelled like lemons and safety. Like maple leaves and lavender and… Cassian.

Because you were still wearing his gods-damned shirt.

Azriel felt his blood boil, and an instinctual rage took over as he growled low in his throat, bunched the fabric of Cassian’s shirt in his hands, and tore it in two.

You pulled away from him at the sound of ripping fabric, but kept your grip on his solid shoulders as air blew across your skin.

Azriel’s pupils were blown wide, his lips pink and raw as he leaned his forehead against yours in a daze. You continued to breathe each other’s air like you were drowning. He seemed just as in disbelief as you, if not more.

“Azriel…” You whispered, chest heaving.

He looked at you with half-lidded eyes full of heat. “... yes, Y/n?” He asked breathlessly.

“I think you ripped through my dress… and my bra as well…”

“Oh…” He fingered the ruined fabric that fell loose around your shoulders and realized that your back was indeed on full display. The straps of your bra slipped down and the mangled buttons of your sundress clung to their loops by weak threads. “Oh…oh gods.”

One hand flew up to your chest to keep the fabric in place while the other slapped over your mouth, suffocating the laughter that threatened to burst forth.

Azriel’s ears and cheeks turned brighter than the sun as he slowly lowered you down to your feet, fumbling over apologies like he hadn’t been shoving his tongue down your throat mere seconds ago.

“I’m so sorry—”

“Azriel, it’s ok.”

“No, I was being an ass and now I’ve ruined your dress and—”

“You can buy me more.”

Azriel’s shoulder dropped. “I can?” “You can.”

He shook his head very seriously. “Yes, yes you’re right, I—” Azriel had always been the beautiful one — the one that drew eyes when he walked into a room. The one that had females and males falling out of their seats for a proper look at his elegant features. But right now he looked so helpless, so flustered and unsure of himself that you finally lost it.

Champagne bubble laughs slipped out of your mouth, light and airy, and sent a shock of warmth through Azriel’s chest. It was infectious the way the skin stretched over your cheeks. The light in your eyes couldn’t be contained no matter how hard you tried.

He couldn’t help himself.

He started laughing too.

What began as one of his reserved chuckles grew into uncontrollable peals of laughter that echoed throughout the studio and had you clutching onto the desk for support.

Azriel doubled over, one hand holding the stitch in his side together as you howled.

“Oh gods. I can’t—” You hiccuped. “I-I-I can’t breathe.”

Soon you were both kneeling on the ground, clutching each other’s arms for some semblance of stability. You gasped for breath, wiping away tears from the corners of your eyes.

Azriel captured one of your hands, weaving his fingers through yours before bringing your wrist to his lips for a soft, reverent kiss. You thought you’d experienced enough emotions for today ranging from frustration to anger to a joy you couldn’t begin to put into words. But you were certain your heart could handle one more shift in the atmosphere.

Wordlessly you tugged off Cassian’s shirt, dropping it to the side where shadows caught hold of the cursed fabric and quickly tossed it into the fireplace. The flames crackled with triumph, eating away at the shirt with a vengeance.

“A little dramatic, don’t you think?”

“We can agree to disagree.” Azriel murmured, his eyes growing dark and heavy. His gaze drifted down to the soft skin now exposed from your tattered dress, the thin straps clinging to your arms, the gentle swell of your breasts as you breathed heavily.

His fingers danced over the straps in silent permission, eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But you were open and wanting and desperate for his touch. You crawled into his lap and a faint nod was all he needed before the pale blue fabric of your dress fell down and bunched about your waist. The bra followed, and then you were sitting there naked from the waist up, feeling the heat grow between your bodies as Azriel looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes.

“Am I dreaming, Y/n?” He whispered, rubbing circles into your hip bones.

You smiled softly, “Have you dreamed of me before?”

“Yes. Many times.” He kissed your chest, slowly dragging his hands down your ribs as you shivered and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and then his belt buckle. “But we never got this far.”

“Hmmmm, I think we could go a little further.”

“NOT IN MY STUDIO!” Feyre’s voice echoed oddly through the room, sounding muffled and far away.

Azriel’s wings flared out, hiding you from view as you yelped and pressed your chest against his. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment about being found in such a compromising position. But the door was closed! And so were the windows!

His shadows finally found the culprit in the air vent.

“Godsdamnit—HAVE YOU BEEN LISTENING THE ENTIRE TIME?!” Azriel shouted.

A moment passed before Feyre answered, “... No,” in a much softer tone.

“We missed part of the beginning,” Cassian chimed in.

Azriel groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as you were stunned into silence. He muttered something beneath his breath that sounded oddly similar to, “I swear I’m going to kill him one day.”

Azriel helped you to your feet and finally, you put on his shirt.

“Are you happy now?” You teased, arms dropping to your sides.

The corner of his lip twitched upwards. You looked… very good in his clothes with the sleeves rolled up and a sliver of your dress (now skirt) peeking out from beneath.

He looked towards the vent, then wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close so he could whisper, “I would be happier if I saw my shirt and that dress of yours on the floor of my bedroom.”

His hand slid up your skirt, squeezing the back of your thighs in a way that had you stiffening.

All at once he was second-guessing himself. Maybe he’d taken things too far. Maybe the lust-filled haze had cleared and you didn’t want him anymore.

You swallowed and wrapped your hand around his wrist, gently guiding his fingers to your core. You let him know just how much you wanted this.

A roar of blood sounded in the Shadowsinger’s ears.

“I think that sounds like a very good plan.” You murmured in agreement and his eyes turned black as night.

He stole another long kiss before scooping you into his arms.

“Az, where are we going?” You giggled into the curve of his throat as he flew down the hallway and stairs. “We just passed your bedroom.”

“We’re not going to my bedroom.”

“Well we missed my bedroom too.”

He didn’t respond.

Azriel skidded to a stop at the top of the staircase, already well aware that his family had gathered at the bottom and were waiting to bombard him with questions.

Azriel smirked at you, leaned down, and kissed your cheek. “When I take you to bed properly, it won’t be with our nosey family members in the house.” He ran his tongue across the line of your jaw all the way to your earlobe and whispered, “I want any noises you make to be for me, and me alone.”

“You are certainly a man of poetry, Az.”

He smiled. “Only for you.”

“Well, well, well if it isn’t the two love—” Shadows flew into his mouth, muffling his words. “HEH! Azz! Whazthf—”

“I’ll see you in a week.” He said to no one in particular, his shadows opening the door of the River House.

“Where are you going?” Mor asked, her eyes zeroing in on the bright red mark blossoming on your neck. What the fuck? She mouthed at you, giving you two thumbs up as Azriel crossed the doorway with you in his arms.

“None of your business. I’ll see you in a week.” Then he looked down at you, eyes growing soft. “We’ll see you in a week,” he corrected himself.

Your stomach bottomed out, heat flowing through your body as you heard him make such a declaration in front of... well everyone. You couldn't wait to see where he would take you and where he would take you.

"Ready?" Azriel asked, a sultry smile growing on his face.

"Ready."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the hollow of his throat as he took off into the air.

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel x reader angst

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monstersflashlight · 2 days

Note

Thoughts on nagas? I like how they're kind of a mix between werewolves (animal like, have knots, will use bodyweight to keep you in bed with them) and vampires (cold to the touch, bitey and uses venom to relax their partner)... also hemipenes are a huge plus

I also like the thought of a rattlesnake naga using their rattle on my clit like a vibrator

Hi! I love nagas! I agree with all your very valid points. Nagas are sexy af, fun to read and probably fun to write, too. I like the two peens situation, but i'm not sure about knotting. I prefer the knotting to go with werewolves and orcs, i don't know why but it just makes more sense in my head. Your rattlesnake idea is delightful, I take it. I also think nagas are pretty fun for non-sexy reasons. The whole laying on the sun sounds adorable, and I think their embrace could be top tier after-care, also a good anxiety relief system, constricting snake kinda way. I took this lil piece out of my drafts (might make it longer in the future). Like imagine:

Naga boyfriend who curls around you so tightly that you are about to pass out from lack of oxygen, he laughs it off, but the spark of fear fuels them. You feel them getting hard against you as he bites down on your neck, relaxing your whole body at once. You can feel everything, but barely move, he has you at his mercy. And he takes advantage of that. You lay there like a puppet as he eats you out with his long tongue, preparing both of your holes for him. When you are hot and bothered, stretched and relaxed... He fucks you senseless, your body is like a toy for him. He uses his rattlesnake to heighten your pleasure, vibrating against your nipples, against your clit. It's maddening. He keeps injecting venom into you, keeping you pliant for hours, making you orgasm so many times you can only cry every time it happens again. When he's finished with you, you are filled and stretched, so tired you can barely keep your eyes open. He curls around your body and presses you to the mattress, like a big snake-shaped weighted blanket.

#naga #naga x human #naga x reader #monster #monster fucker #monster x human #monster imagine #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #terato #teratophillia #txt

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therealmrsgojo · 3 days

Text

Bigger Than The Whole Sky

pairing: gojo satoru x reader content: "Mommy? How much did Daddy love us?" warnings: NSFW, MDNI. established relationship, wife reader, pregnant reader, angst, comfort, canon-divergence. wordcount: 5k

As the soft, caressing night breeze murmurs through the air, two figures lie entwined, seeking solace in each other's arms. They cherish the steady ebb and flow of one another's breath, relishing the warmth and intimacy it bestows.

The weight of the day's challenges had been almost too much for you to bear. The endless routine, the constant demands, the unrelenting pressure to succeed—it had all taken its toll on your mind and body.

But as you felt the familiar scent of your husband, Gojo Satoru, envelop you, it was as if all the weariness and tension melted away, leaving you nothing but comfort.

His touch was like a balm to your soul, easing the ache in your heart and filling you with a deep sense of love and belonging.

The world could spin on its axis, and the stars could twinkle in the sky, but as long as you were in his arms, you knew everything would be alright.

Safe.

He had always made you feel safe.

His phone's ringing broke the peaceful silence, alerting him to a message. You watched as he reached for it on the nightstand, his fingers deftly navigating the screen.

When he leaned in closer, you felt the warmth of his breath and the soft touch of his lips as he placed a tender, affectionate kiss on the side of your head.

His hand then gently moved down, his fingertips tracing a delicate path to caress your small, yet prominent, stomach bump.

You lay perfectly still, willing your eyes to remain shut. Seeing a message flashing on his phone could only mean one thing.

Jujutsu Society.

"Sweetheart?" Satoru's gentle voice whispered to you, concern evident in his tone. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I am," you replied, slowly opening your eyes to the dimly lit room. You locked eyes with him, seeing the worry etched on his face, which elicited your chuckle. "You have worn that concerned expression ever since I became pregnant, Satoru."

He let out a soft chuckle as he gently brushed your hair away from your face, a boyish grin lighting up his features. His deep blue eyes seemed to be committing every detail of you to memory as he spoke, "Naturally, I don't want my precious wife to endure any discomfort, and the well-being of our little one is just as important to me."

He rested his head gently on your belly and showered your bare skin with tender kisses. His touch was so gentle, so loving, that it felt like he was worshipping you in that moment.

You could feel his lips continue to pepper your skin with delicate kisses, each one sending shivers down your spine. The sensation was so intimate, so raw, that it made your heart swell with joy.

The soft strands of his hair felt like silk against your fingertips, and you relished the feeling of being so close to him. It was as if the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble of happiness.

Loved.

He had always made you feel loved.

"What was that?" You asked, intrigued by the sudden message he had received in the dead of night.

"It's Shibuya," he finally said, his voice low and urgent. "I'm needed."

"What's happening in Shibuya?" you asked, your voice filled with worry.

"I don't know yet," he admitted. "But I have to go. I'll let you know as soon as I can."

You felt your heart rate quicken as you sat in silence with him, unsure of what to say or do. You unconsciously began picking at your nailbeds, a nervous habit you couldn't shake off in moments of discomfort.

"Hey, Y/N," he said softly, reaching for your hands and gently placing them on his cheeks. "I promise this won't take long. Let me quickly go and wake someone up so they can keep you company."

Worry.

His work always made you worried.

"It's okay. There's no need to wake anyone up. I'm just barely five months pregnant, so there's no need to worry about me giving birth or anything like that." You quickly interjected, "Just make sure to return quickly, okay?"

Although you were now the head wife of the Gojo clan, you couldn't help but feel sorry for the servants. They were always at your beck and call, attending to your every need. You knew they had other duties, but they never complained.

Gojo Satoru flashed you a warm smile and replied, "Of course!"

"Good morning, Y/N-sama," Hana, one of the personal maids appointed to attend to your needs, greeted you with a warm smile as she entered the room, carefully holding your freshly laundered robe. "Your bath is ready, with the water at the perfect temperature, and breakfast is being prepared."

The room was bathed in a gentle morning light that filtered through the curtains as you stirred.

With a tender understanding of your struggle with your growing bump, Hana gracefully approached and extended a helping hand to assist you in rising from the bed.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything's fine. I think they're kicking more these days, though." You said as you stood up. "Is Satoru home yet?"

"He's not, Y/N-sama; we'll let you know if he is."

As a frown etched itself onto your face in response to her words, you turned away and made your way towards the bathroom, dismissing her without a word.

The sound of the door shutting behind you filled the room as you slowly stripped off your clothes and stepped into the warm embrace of the bathtub.

As the water cascaded over you, your mind was filled with thoughts. Guilt gnawed at you for being able to sleep soundly while he was still not home. The weight of worry and concern settled heavily upon your shoulders.

However, as you gazed down at your hand, the sight of your wedding ring momentarily eased your troubled mind. The diamond sparkled and glistened as it caught the light, offering a glimmer of comfort in the midst of your turmoil.

"Alright, but can you give me a second? I'll dress first. I need to go to the bathroom." he removes himself from the bed you two share.

"Okay," you replied, admiring the flexed back muscles in his bare back as he picked up his new clothes and approached the bathroom.

You slowly lifted yourself from the bed, and the cozy sheets clung to your skin. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand, hoping to pass some time. As you scrolled through your notifications, you heard the sound of the bathroom door opening.

You were surprised at how quickly Toru had finished in there. You turn your head in their direction, "That was fast, Toru-"

He approached you with a small box in his hand. Suddenly, he dropped down on one knee, and with trembling hands, he opened the box, revealing a magnificent diamond ring brighter than any jewelry he had ever given you as a present.

The sparkle of the diamond was so intense that it caught your eye and made you gasp in amazement.

You were so taken aback that you dropped your phone, and it clattered to the ground. Your eyes widened with shock, and your hands instinctively flew to your mouth as you gazed into his eyes, trying to make sense of what was happening.

"Some people might choose to do this with a fancy dinner, or on a yacht under the fireworks, or even on the highest building in the world with all the people they know," he began, his voice quivering with nervousness. "And I can do that too. I'll do that for you, too," he laughed softly,

"But, doll, (Y/N)," he paused, taking a deep breath. " I've chosen this place, right here, because waking up with you every morning is the best thing I have ever experienced in my entire life. The way you smile at me every morning and make me feel loved and wanted is a feeling unlike any other." His voice trailed off as he looked deeply into your eyes.

"And I want to do that every day with you," he continued, his voice gaining strength. "I want to be a constant in your life, partner, friend, and your lover. I want to wake up next to you every morning, until my last breath, as your husband." Tears welled up in his eyes as he uttered the following words.

"Will you marry me?" the words left his lips, and a grin appeared your face.

You chuckled softly as you thought back to when Gojo Satoru proposed, feeling warmth wash over you and completely dispelling the earlier worries weighing on your mind.

You had just finished your bath and took the time to carefully select your outfit for the day, feeling refreshed and ready to start your morning. As you reached out to grab your phone and make your way out of your room, the sound of a gentle knock at the door caught your attention.

"Y/N-sama, there is a guest named Shoko waiting for you in the living room," Hana said, bowing respectfully. The unexpected news took you aback.

"Thank you, Hana." You left the room, accidentally leaving your phone behind.

As you strolled through the grand hallway of your sprawling estate, you marveled at the beauty of your surroundings. The walls were adorned with intricate paintings, and the floors were gleaming marble.

You had always known you were lucky to live in such a magnificent place, and it still took your breath away every time you walked through it.

You caught sight of the familiar figure of the brown-haired woman who works alongside your husband.

"Good morning," you greeted warmly as you reached her.

Your smile quickly faded as you saw Shoko's eyes filled with sadness and concern.

Unbeknownst to you, the words she spoke next would shatter your day into a million pieces.

Your husband, Gojo Satoru - was sealed.

In the wake of your husband's sealing and the news of his banishment, you were engulfed by a profound sense of sorrow, leading to an almost three-week seclusion within the confines of your room.

The community he had always protected concluded that he was an accomplice.

The disbelief is overwhelming. It's impossible to fathom. Witnessing firsthand the deep affection he held for those children—his students—it was a sight to behold.

As you slowly unfurled from your curled-up position, every muscle protested against the movement, making it feel like a strenuous effort. Exhaustion bore heavily on your shoulders as you mustered the strength to sit upright.

Weary and bleary-eyed, you rubbed your eyes futilely to dispel the heavy shroud of drowsiness that had enveloped you.

You suddenly became aware of the passing of time. The days had melded into one another, and you were completely lost.

The servants still ensured your well-being, paying extra attention to your nutritional needs. They would bring you warm soups, fresh fruits, and vegetables and encourage you to eat even when you didn't feel like it. They were always there to offer a kind word or a gentle touch, reminding you that you were not alone.

In Satoru's absence, you were the head of the clan, the next one your unborn child. You had never felt more responsible or scared in your life.

Has he carried this responsibility since he was a child?

In his everyday life?

Rising from your seat, you made your way to the full-length mirror in your room, yearning for a glimpse of your own reflection. However, the sight that met your eyes only deepened your sorrow.

Your complexion appeared pallid, drained of its usual vitality, and dark circles underscored your eyes, accentuating the weariness you felt.

Your hair was in disarray, with strands sticking out in every direction and tangled messily. You seemed to have little concern for your appearance, and your heart felt like it was about to shatter into a million pieces.

Everything had been unremarkably normal, and now there was a possibility of never seeing him again.

With a deep, shaky breath, you gently brushed your hair to get up today. The brush's soft bristles glided through your hair, untangling any knots with ease.

Just as you were about to finish, the creaking open door interrupted your peaceful moment. It seemed that the servants of your estate had developed the habit of entering your chambers more frequently as if to ensure your safety.

"Hana, I'm about to head out - "

The room was filled with palpable tension as the sound of the brush hitting the floor echoed through the air, causing an abrupt hush to descend. In that fleeting moment, your eyes widened and your breath caught in your throat as you found yourself locking eyes with Gojo Satoru.

"Toru?" Tears filled your eyes, shimmering with unshed emotion as you struggled to maintain your composure.

Your hands trembled as you instinctively sought to shield the swell of your stomach, your grip tightening around the precious source of strength that had sustained you through it all.

As he takes deliberate steps forward, his intense, piercing blue eyes sweep over you, lingering on every detail from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It's as if he fears that any contact with him could cause you to fade away.

"I came home as soon as I could," he whispered, his voice barely audible. For the first time in your life, you witnessed tears streaming down his cheeks.

His eyes, usually so bright and full of life, were filled with sorrow and regret. "I'm sorry for leaving you two all alone," he said, his voice choked with emotion.

You melted into his embrace, feeling a rush of emotion flood you. Your body trembled with sobs as you buried your face against his chest, finding it difficult to articulate the depth of your feelings.

Holding him tightly, you couldn't help but observe his changes – the maturation of his physique and the palpable strength of his developed muscles as he enveloped you in his arms.

Home.

Being in his arms is home.

The obstetrician greeted you warmly and said, "I'm going to apply a little cold gel," as they carefully positioned the small transducer on your 6-month-pregnant belly. "Let's see if we can coax the baby out—it looks like they're being a bit shy and hiding."

The dimly lit room was filled with nervous excitement as the doctor continued maneuvering the wand over your belly. Then, suddenly, the ultrasound screen flickered to life, and the image of your little one came into view.

"They might be doing some jujutsu moves inside, honey," your husband, Gojo Satoru, whispered into your ear, a sly smirk on his lips. His eyes were fixed on the screen, hands warmly holding your right one, and when the baby moved, you noticed his mouth slightly open in awe.

You turned your head to the screen and marveled at the sight of your tiny, wiggling miracle.

The tiny arms, legs, fingers, and toes all move in unison. The doctor continued to point out different features, explaining each detail as you watched in amazement.

"Congratulations, you are having a boy."

It's been a few days since your husband finally returned home after what seemed like an eternity. Despite the chaos, your husband has created a peaceful haven for the two of you.

The nursery is a testament to his dedication and attention to detail. The walls are painted a soft, soothing shade of blue, and the shelves are filled with books and toys that he carefully selected for your little one.

The crib is draped in a delicate canopy, and the bedding is soft and cozy. Everything regarding your soon-to-be-bearing has already been taken care of.

It's as if he's on a mission to show his love and dedication to you and your soon-to-arrive child with meaningful actions every single day.

Every minute detail had been thought through and prepared with utmost care. Each day, he devoted himself to ensuring your well-being, starting with a gentle morning bath and ending with a soothing back massage that would lull you to sleep in the comfort of his loving embrace.

In the beginning, it caused a sense of unease. It felt like he was preparing to depart in the near future. However, your husband took the time to console you and assure you that his intention was merely to spare you any distress during the final months of your pregnancy in case he were to sustain an injury.

You were informed about his fight on December 24th. Despite your disagreement and your persistent refusal to support him, he assured you that he would win.

You believe.

You have always believed him.

The sun dipped below the horizon, the two of you settled in for the evening, seeking rest after a day filled with activity.

Satoru's lips met yours, and you felt a surge of pleasure coursing through your body. His kisses were always so gentle and tender, yet so passionate at the same time. You kissed him back, savoring his lips' taste and his breath's warmth.

His tongue pushed against your lips, asking for entrance, and you eagerly obliged.

Your heart raced as you felt his lips move down to your neck, planting kisses and leaving behind small, purple bruises. "I'm sorry," he slurred, muffled words against your skin. "I need you."

Now wide awake, you watched as he slowly tugged the duvet covers over your naked body, his lips trailing down to your chest.

He took one of your nipples in his mouth, his delicate licks making it harden. His other hand teased and tweaked the other nipple, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Relax, my wife," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "I'm going to take care of you."

He continued to suck on your sensitive nipples, twirling his tongue around them and moaning softly. His cock grew hard as he switched to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment.

"I want to taste you," he mumbled, his lips touching your stomach. His long fingers caressed your womanhood, eliciting a soft gasp from you. He positioned himself between your thighs, using his thumb to part your cunt and expose your clit. "Can I taste you, Y/N?"

"Yy-yes." You moaned as he began to lick and suck on your clit, his tongue moving in circles and causing waves of pleasure to wash over you. Your hands gripped the sheets as he continued to pleasure you, his fingers slipping inside you and making you writhe with pleasure.

He leaves your clit alone, but his tongue finds its way to the rest of your pussy. His tongue traces your folds, your slit, and the inside of your walls. He was leaving no parts untouched by his warm mouth. He was licking every drop.

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and then you were tumbling over it, your body convulsing with pleasure as Satoru continued to pleasure you with his mouth and hands.

"Mm, Satoru," as his skilled tongue continued to explore every inch of you, sending shivers down your spine.

Your eyes were wide open, taking in every sensation as he delved deeper. His tongue continued lapping at your most sensitive areas, sending electrifying pulses of pleasure throughout your body.

As if that wasn't enough, his fingers began to apply gentle pressure, adding to the intensity. You felt your legs start to tremble uncontrollably as the pleasure built inside you. "Tastes so sweet."

You could feel yourself getting close to the brink of orgasm. Your breath quickened, and your cries became louder with each passing second. You knew you were on the verge of release, and he seemed to sense it, too.

"I'm close," With one final push, he pressed harder, driving you over and into a world of pure pleasure. As you exploded in ecstasy, your body shook with the force of your orgasm, and you cried out in delight.

Satoru continued to lavish and clean you, his tongue working tirelessly to taste your release. "So fcking sweet,"

Panting and gasping for breath, you feel him move his body on top of yours, his lips pressing against yours as he positions himself at your entrance.

You can feel your heart racing as your body responds to his touch. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer to you, and feel his body shudder with pleasure.

He carefully lifts your legs, making sure not to put too much pressure on your bump, and places them around his waist, slowly sinking his length inside you.

"My sweet wife," he whispered into your ear, his voice low and husky. "So warm." He moved in and out of you, his grunts and moans filling the air as he lost himself in the pleasure of your body.

"You feel so good," he murmured, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he thrust harder and faster.

"Mm-more, Satoru," You arch your back and push your hips up to meet his, feeling his length still sliding in and out of you with increasing speed.

He responded by picking up the pace, repositioning himself deeper inside you, pressing you into the mattress, and giving kisses to your face and neck as he continued to rail you, his movements becoming more urgent but careful.

"I'm going to come, doll." he cursed, his hands gripping your body tightly as he felt his orgasm building.

You could feel his length pulsing inside you, his release painting your walls white as he continued to move, putting back his spilled seed with each thrust, making you gasp as you feel your second orgasm.

Basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking, your husband excused himself to the bathroom. You heard running water and assumed he was cleaning himself up. A few moments later, he returned with a warm, damp cloth.

You watched as he approached you, eyes full of love and tenderness. His touch was gentle as he used the cloth to remove any remnants.

He took his time, cleaning every inch of your body with utmost care.

He wiped away the last trace of sweat from your skin and looked up at you with a soft smile. "I love you so much," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice filled with emotion. You reached out to stroke his cheek, feeling the softness of his skin beneath your fingertips.

"Please remember what I'm about to tell you," Gojo Satoru's voice resonated with unwavering determination as he imparted his instructions. "Don't make yourself watch. It will only burden you needlessly. I'll be back home before you know it."

His slender, ethereal hands tenderly cradled your tear-streaked face, gently brushing away the traces of your distress. You found ease in his embrace, unable to contain your sobs, fully aware that nothing could deter him from his path.

"After this, I promise I will retire," he said with a shaky chuckle, his voice tinged with emotion. The sight of you shaking was overwhelming, and the thought of you crying scared him more than his upcoming battle with Sukuna.

"We can move anywhere you want, and we'll be together every day with our son," he reassured you as he enveloped you in a warm, comforting hug, soothing you with gentle strokes of your hair. He shifted closer, nuzzling into your hair and holding you tightly.

"I'll always be by your side," he whispered softly, his words etching on your mind. "Forever."

If you knew this would be your final conversation with him, you would have desperately grasped at any words or actions to keep him from leaving.

You stride in your well-worn white running shoes, and the rhythmic thud of each footfall echoes through the empty corridors, creating a symphony of sound that fills the space around you.

He never liked your heels.

He never liked how discomforting it is for your feet.

Your tears are flowing down your cheeks, and there's a lump in your throat that hasn't left ever since you heard the news. Your breathing is rapid, shallow, and filled with fear.

Your breath.

You no longer want to take.

The world around you was shrouded in unfamiliarity; the edges of your vision blurred as you moved forward. Despite the disorientation, your body seemed to be operating on autopilot, effortlessly navigating through the haze as if driven by an unseen force.

Every step you took felt heavy, like some instinctual knowledge guided you through this place.

He clings to you.

As much as he can.

"Y/N," Shoko Ieiri's voice sounded from the background. Her face was solemn as she gazed back at you with a serious expression.

"I can go with her; please follow me, Y/N-san." Ijichi, the person who had come to fetch you from the confines of your home, whispered beside you. He walked past, and you felt your feet involuntarily follow him, afraid he would disappear.

The woman with brown hair gazed down at your swollen, pregnant belly, and the sight was so overwhelming that she nearly lost her balance.

You brushed past her, paying no mind to her or anyone else - the curious stares of the students as you made your way through the corridors of Jujutsu High.

Your fists were tightly clenched at your sides as you followed the man in the suit, your thoughts consumed by only one person.

Gojo Satoru.

Ijichi paused before a shining silver door, the light catching its reflective surface. He turned towards you, a grave expression on his face. "We've arrived," he said, his voice tinged with regret as he bowed deeply. "I apologize."

You could feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you whispered, "I want to be alone with him, please." You couldn't bear the thought of anyone else witnessing this moment of raw vulnerability.

With trembling hands, you pushed open the door and stepped inside. The room was quiet, except for the machines' soft hum and lightning.

You could see him lying there, his form still and peaceful beneath the pristine white sheet. The fabric was smooth and unblemished, without a wrinkle to mar its surface.

"My baby," you whispered, your voice breaking as you approached his body. You reached out tentatively, afraid that the slightest touch would disrupt the peaceful tableau before you. But you felt sadness and longing as your fingers brushed against his skin. "My sweet baby," you cried, pulling him close to your chest. "How can I go on without you?"

"Please don't leave me." Tears streamed down your face as you grieved for your husband, desperately yearning to hear his voice or feel his comforting, warm hug when he sensed your sadness once more. "Please come back."

But there was no response, no flicker of movement or sound. Your husband was gone, and all that remained was the shell of his body.

Amid your suffering, you felt a sudden kick from within your stomach.

It seems that your son may have felt your tears, weeping about his father, whom he will never have the chance to meet.

"Mommy?" Rapid footsteps echoed through the hallway as your 5-year-old son dashed across the wooden floor, his little voice filled with urgency.

"Tohru, no running!" You called out, pausing from chopping the carrots as you felt a tinge of concern at the tone of his voice. "Hana, could you please continue chopping these carrots for me?"

Hana smiled warmly and nodded in agreement, gracefully taking over the task. Her skilled hands moved with precision as she seamlessly continued the work you had started.

While going from the kitchen to the living room, your son's voice fills the air, creating a comforting and familiar ambiance. Your gaze was drawn to a large wedding photograph that halted your steps, capturing your attention with its timeless beauty and significance.

In the picture, a white-haired man beamed with joy as he gazed at his wife, their expressions capturing a depth of love that seemed to transcend everything else.

The way they looked at each other spoke volumes about their enduring bond and connection, leaving a lasting impression on anyone who beheld the photograph.

It was your favorite picture.

It still made your heart stop.

"Mommy," Your son ran up to you and wrapped his little arms around your legs, making you chuckle at his enthusiasm. You knelt down to his height, pinching his chubby cheeks and feeling the warmth of his embrace. His bright blue eyes shone with curiosity and innocence.

"Sakura told me her father loved her so much. Like as big as a tree!" he exclaimed, gesturing widely to emphasize the enormity of his friend's father's love. "How about us? How much did Daddy love us?"

You tenderly swept aside his silky, snow-white hair, cherishing this special moment with your son. A gentle smile lit up your face as you wholeheartedly responded to his question without any hesitation.

"His love for us was bigger than the whole sky."

author's note: I never knew a fictional character would have this impact on my life. gojo satoru, no matter what they say, was my favourite. whatever hopes I had for gege's redemption on his writing is now officially gone; I am dropping jjk. I don't even want to watch the anime anymore. I just got up today to write my own version of his passing, with canon-divergence.

he will forever have a place in my heart. my baby deserves so much better. :(

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self-awared · 3 days

Text

The Discovery

Tw/Cw: Using Male MC, mentions of sleep paralysis, kind of short

Rover always knew there was someone watching him.

He figured it out when he felt his body move without his control. His suspicions were confirmed when, while he was trying to figure out what this controlling force was, was suddenly teleported to a rock in the middle of no where.

His head was forced to turn and stare in a random direction, where he saw you for the first time. You weren't a person, just a floating ball of light. But he could hear you...

He could hear your mumbles of how long something was taking to load, and how aggravated you were about forgetting a password.

Finally, he heard your little squeal, and his hand was forced to raise in your direction.

He was shocked when the light came closer and closer to his hand, before entering his body, and he was teleported back to where he was before. This time, he wasn't in control again.

When he felt your presence leave his body, he quickly informed Baizhi of what the hell had just happened.

Rumors spread like wildfire. More and more people began to experience your presence taking control of their body.

It started with the people that Rover had come in contact with when he first woke up. Then, more people that he had interacted with began seeing the little light in their peripheral vision.

A news article did an interview with Rover, and published the following in a newspaper:

Reporter: "What is it like to be controlled by this strange light?"

Rover: "It's hard to describe. It's almost like you're aware of what you're doing, and what's going on around you, but you have no control over your body."

Reporter: "Could it be described as a sort of sleep paralysis?"

Rover: "Precisely."

Reporter: "Do you see the light when you're in this state?"

Rover: "Yes. I see it in my peripheral vision. It's like the light is controlling me in a sort of third-person perspective."

Reporter: "Do you think this light has any bad intentions?"

Rover: "No, I don't. One thing I've noticed is that they're always helping me, whether it helping me achieve some big goal, or just collecting flowers."

Reporter: "Can the light speak?"

Rover laughs.

Rover: Of course. I hear it all the time. Especially whenever I meet someone new.

Reporter: "Are they good or bad things?"

Rover: "...you don't want to know."

#self aware wuthering waves #wuthering waves #wuthering waves x reader #wuwa #sawuwa #sawuwa x reader #wuwa x reader #rover #wuwa rover #self aware

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mariclerc · 20 hours

Note

So, i watched the video of the radio between Charles and his new engineer at Imola. Safe to say i got some ideas, and was wondering if you could write something with Charles and engineer!reader? Basically something where reader is Charles’ engineer and he’s developed feelings for her, during a race ( could be Imola, or Monaco as thats this weekend) she talks to him like Bryan does and he realizes he has a praise kink. Could lead to smut if you’re comfortable with that. Thank you in advance.

Thank you for this request, I did my best to develop it as much as possible, I hope you like it!! <3<3

Strategies and praises | cl16 (+18)

Summary: you like to praise your driver, but you have no idea how much good it does him. Warning: fluff and some light smut.

a/n: CHARLES WON IN MONACO OH MY GOD, I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT!! HE REALLY DID IT, I'M SO SO PROUD OF HIM!!! (not to jinx him I wrote this between Friday and Saturday so you won't have exactly the positions like in the race)

The Monaco Grand Prix is in full swing, everyone is excited and ecstatic as they want to know how the local driver, Charles, will do. You, as his race engineer, are under a bit of pressure, as well as him, but it's nothing you can't control. For you it is a race of mere strategy and that's it, since many overtakings do not usually occur, and that is why you and Charles spend a lot of time studying the different strategies that may happen in the race.

“If we get one last run with the mediums in quali, we can achieve pole position.” He says and you nod.

“That's right, it's just a matter of the track staying the same throughout qualifying and, in case you already have provisional pole and a red flag or something happens, you're already insured there.” you say as you finish reviewing some telemetry data.

Suddenly he lets out a sigh and runs his hands through his hair, ruffling it a little. You know he is stressed and overwhelmed by this weekend, it's not that he doesn't like it, on the contrary, it's the constant pressure to have a good race at home.

“But... But what if I qualify further back? I don't know, that will change the whole strategy, right?” He asks in a whisper, you nod.

“Ehm... That might change the strategy a little bit, of course, but it's nothing we can't recover with a couple of undercuts or overcuts...” you say to finally close your laptop.

You look at Charles and notice how your words calmed him down a bit, you have been his engineer since he arrived at Ferrari in 2019 and you have been known for giving him some praises every so often in the race. And a couple of times you have been criticized for some questionable decisions in the race, but he was in charge of clearing your name with pride those times, which you are very grateful to him since he always believes in you and you in him.

It's already race day and you find yourself with a lot of nerves, the day before Charles had qualified P3 and, although it was not what we expected, there was a certain tension and hope on the pit wall. The roar of the crowd fills Charles helmet as he navigates the tight corners of Monaco. You, his engineer, his voice of reason in the chaos, cut through the static.

“Charles, that was a phenomenal lap! You took the Rascasse beautifully, just keep pushing, we can still make a good climb!” you say on the radio. “Just try to make it clean, okay? You're doing a very good job.”

A small smile tugs at Charles' lips under the helmet... He wasn't just pushing or fighting for the podium anymore, he was pushing to hear your voice, to impress you, to make you feel proud of him.

You watch the telemetry with a focused intensity, a satisfied smile playing on your lips.

“Perfect line through Beau Rivage, Charles. You're a monster machine! Let's catch them boy! I know you can do it!” you said watching his lap, he had made a couple of overcuts.

The compliment hangs heavy in the air between you and Charles, a blush creeps up his neck even though you can't see it. He pushes even harder, the car straining under his command.

Charles crosses the finish line, a hard-fought P3. He lets out a guttural yell of exhilaration, the adrenaline coursing through him. Maybe it's not a home win as he wished, but it's a podium and it's something at least.

“Great job, team! That was incredible. Y/n, you were brilliant on the strategy, thank you so much!” you heard his voice over the radio communication and you smiled.

“It was nothing Charles, now let's celebrate! You deserve it more than anyone!” you also say through the radio. “You did an absolutely amazing drive, Charles. You were phenomenal out there. We should celebrate after the podium ceremony!” you say and you let out a little giggle.

A shiver runs down Charles' spine... It wasn't just the post-race adrenaline, it was the way you said it, the subtle soft praise laced with something more, and that sweet and soft giggle of yours. All your colleagues on the pit wall hug you and congratulate you for such a spectacular strategy, Fred also congratulates you with a loving hug. You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Relief and pride wash over you, how proud you are to work with someone like Charles is priceless, he is someone who always strives to achieve his own.

At the end of the podium and the interviews, the paddock was practically deserted, you found yourself putting some things in your briefcase when you hear Charles calling you to meet you in his driver's room.

The room is a mess of post-race adrenaline, empty water bottles litter the table, fireproof gloves are tossed on a chair, and Charles himself is sprawled on the sofa, he's still in his race suit, sweat clinging to his toned chest through the fireproofs. He looks exhausted but exhilarated and handsome to your eyes. You knock on the door.

“Come in!” You hear him say and you enter the room, a shy and tired smile adorns your face.

“Hey, you wanted to see me champ?” you asked softly.

Charles beckons you in, a shy smile playing on his lips. He pats the space beside him on the sofa.

“Yeah, come sit, please. There's a few things we need to go over, but...” He trails off, his gaze lingering on you a beat too long. You raise an eyebrow, amusement tugging at your lips.

“But what?”

“You did amazing today, you know that? We pulled off a miracle out there, keeping the position.” he smiled shyly.

You smiled lovingly at him. “We did, didn't we? Thanks for trusting my calls. You were a rocket ship on that track, Charles.”

His gaze lingers on you a beat too long. You brush a stray strand of hair from your face, feeling a warmth spread through you.

“Always. You're the best engineer I've ever had. Not just because of the numbers, but...” his voice became a little low, he hesitate a bit, then leans in, his voice barely a whisper. “Because you believe in me... Even when I don't believe in myself, even when everyone doubts about my abilities or myself in general.”

Your heart skips a beat, you reach out, your fingers softly grazing his cheek. The touch seems to spark something in him, he leans into your hand, his eyes searching yours.

You blushed a little. “Hey, I'll always believe in you, Charles! You're incredible. You know that, right?”

His eyes hold yours, a new intensity there. He cups your face, his thumb brushing across your lips.

“There's something else I want you to know... Something I've realized lately.” he says with a husky voice.

He trails off, his gaze dropping to your lips, you feel a shiver run down your spine, he leans in slowly, and you meet him halfway. The kiss is electric, fueled by unspoken emotions and the adrenaline of the race. His hands explore your back gently, sending shivers down your spine.

“Your voice...” he kiss you again. “on the radio...” he give you another kiss. “it does things to me...” he said between kisses.

A laugh escapes your lips, breathless. “Like what, Charles?” you ask him teasingly.

He kisses your jaw, his voice a low rumble. “Like... it makes me want to drive faster, makes me want to win, to archive even more podiums... Especially when you...” He hesitates, then whispers in your ear. “Especially when you tell me I'm doing good, when you tell me that I can do it.” he said huskily.

A blush creeps up your neck. You realize what he's saying, a heat pooling in your core.

“So... you like a little praise, huh?” you whisper too.

He kisses your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “More than you know, mon ange, especially if it comes from you.”

The air crackles with unspoken desire. You let out a soft gasp as Charles undoes the buttons of your t-shirt, his touch lingering on the fabric. You reach up and cup his face, pulling him close for another kiss. This time, it's deeper, filled with a new urgency. His hands slide down your back, sending a fire down your spine.

“Then tell me, Charles. What do you want to hear?” you said breathlessly.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes blazing. “Tell me you're proud of me, tell me I drove flawlessly. Tell me you knew I could do it... Please.” he says in a whisper, practically begging you.

You run your hand through his hair, a slow smile spreading across your face. “I am so incredibly proud of you, Charles. You were phenomenal out there, you took that car to its limits and never gave up. You're a phenomenal driver, the best on the grid.”

His eyes lock on yours, the praise filling him with a surge of heat that goes beyond the race. He leans in again, his voice a husky whisper.

“More, keep going amour. Tell me you knew I could keep that podium, even when I doubted myself.”

You trace the outline of his jaw with your thumb, your voice dropping to a low purr. “I always knew you could keep that podium, Charles. You have this incredible talent, this fire inside you. You were born to be a champion!”

His breath hitches, and he pulls you close, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His hands explore your body, finding the small of your back, urging you closer.

“Don't stop please. You make me want to push myself even further, make me want to win every single race left, just to hear you say that again.” says with a ragged voice.

The praise fuels your own desire. You pull back slightly, your gaze flickering over his race suit, you smile.

“Then let's celebrate your podium properly, shall we? Show me just how good you are at taking some orders.” you say with a husky voice, and a triumphant grin splits his face.

The air hums with a different kind of electricity now. Charles's eyes darken, the praise turning him on far more than he expected. He leans in, his voice a low rumble.

“You don't just believe in my driving, do you baby?”

His hand dips under your shirt, brushing softly against your skin. You gasp, a shiver running through you.

“No, Charles. I believe in you... All of you. Your talent, your strength, your incredible heart. You're the most determined, passionate person I know! And seeing you out there, pushing yourself, it does something to me too...”

His touch ignites a fire within you, mirroring the one he feels. You trace a line down his chest, feeling the heat radiating through his damp race suit.

“What does it do, bellissima?” he says with a husky voice.

You lean in close, your lips brushing his ear. “It makes me want to celebrate with you in a very different way.” you whispered in his ear.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. A slow smile spreads across his face, a mix of satisfaction and desire.

“Tell me then, how do you want to celebrate?” he asks.

You run your hand down his arm, sending a spark through both of you. “Let me show you how proud I am of the man you are, not just the driver. How much I admire your strength, your focus, everything that makes you so incredible.”

His breath hitches, and he pulls you close again. This kiss is different, slower, filled with a deeper meaning. His touch explores your body, finding the places that make you shiver, places no one had ever discovered before.

“Then show me, bellissima. Show me everything you've been holding back.” he said with a rough voice.

You pull back slightly, your eyes locked on his. “But first, tell me one more thing. Did you ever think your engineer might be a little turned on by seeing you dominate the track?” you say shyly.

His laugh is a low rumble, filled with pure, unadulterated desire.

“Not until now, but believe me, gorgeous, the feeling is most definitely mutual.”

He finally pulls your shirt up all the way, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. As he slowly undresses you, his eyes never leave yours, a mixture of gratitude and raw desire burning bright. The celebration takes a turn neither of you expected, fueled by the adrenaline of the race, the praise that goes beyond the track, and the deep connection that has been simmering beneath the surface all along.

His eyes scanned your body at a slow place, he was drinking you in just by looking. His lips met yours in a gentle touch and your back met the couch as he hovered over you. Looking into his eyes you kissed him again, biting his lip which elicited a groan from him and a smile from you.

“Oh god amore, are you sure you want this?” He asked. “We can’t go back after you say yes.” he added in a low voice that send shivers down your spine.

“Yes, I’m sure Charles.” you replied bringing his lips down to yours. Detaching his lips from yours he kissed down your body, your skin crawls when you feel his warm lips on your body, slowly kissing every curve and dip that adorns your silhouette, leaving a burning path on your skin, you let out a sigh. “God, you're so good to me Cha...” You whisper between a light sigh, your words made him let out a light growl, he felt his body react to your praise.

“Oh mon amour, je te ferai te sentir si bien... I will make myself worthy of your praise...” He says in a low and sensual voice, the mixture of French and English makes your head go crazy. (Oh my love, I'll make you feel so good...)

His lips continue their journey down your chest, taking the time to kiss your breasts gently, as if they were the most precious thing in the world, then he went down to your abdomen where he left loose kisses in the area, making you release one or another soft sigh. He continued down until he reached your core, he smiled at the sight of you completely naked, he softly kissed the inside of your thighs and your heart started beating super fast.

He started to leave sloppy kisses until he reached your folds, he began to leave sloppy kisses and licks on your wet folds, you raised your hips a little to give him easy access to that area, and he began to devour you slowly, he was taking his time to taste you. Your soft moans didn't take long, he slowly sucked on your clit, making you let out a loud moan that probably rang throughout the deserted paddock, but that's the least of it now.

“Keep doing that Charlie...” you say with heavy breathing and that gave him the impetus to continue savoring you with such passion, you hold on to his soft, silky hair. “God, you're such a... You're such a good boy.” you moan slightly.

Your words lit the fire in him a little bit more and he continued tasting you completely in his mouth, you were like a blessing in his life, like something he had wanted to try for a long time. You felt your walls tighten and a strong wave of pleasure washed over you, you felt like you were going to faint right there.

“Cha... Charlie... I'm... I'm close.” you whispered as you whimpered in pleasure, he stopped his ministrations on your core and looked up at you, god he looked so damn hot, his cheeks flushed, his face sweaty from the strenuous work he was doing down there.

He smiled and took off his boxers, revealing his erect cock, he brought his lips to yours and kissed you softly and sweetly, it was as if he didn't want to let this moment between you go. “If... If you don't feel comfortable or something, just tell me and I'll stop instantly, okay darling?” He said in a hushed whisper looking deeply at your eyes.

You looked and him and smiled shyly. “Charlie, I... I want this the same way you want it, okay? I want you to continue.” you whispered and he nodded. “Just do it, okay honey?”

He aligned himself with your entrance and gently entered you, giving you time to adapt to his big size, your breathing became erratic, he began to move slowly and a little loosely at the same time. He wanted to satisfy you, to please you, make you feel like you are the one who have the power in this precise moment... His hands ran over your body, just as they did at the beginning, until they reached your hips and he placed them there, his thumbs made circles in that area, he began to thrust into you with a little more rhythm. He began to breathe heavily, his hot breath coming into contact with your neck and that gave you chills down your spine, his movements were meticulously perfect, he took the moment to appreciate you and enjoy this.

You felt your walls tightening around him, making the two of you let out moans at the same time, to you, he looked like a Greek god at that moment, sweat taking over his toned torso, his darkened and dilated pupils watching you as if you were a goddess or some kind of miraculous apparition in his life.

“Mhm, bébé, I'm... I'm gonna cum.” he whispered against your neck, his agitated and husky voice a delight to your ears. “God, you feel so good around me chérie.” He murmured as he kissed the skin of your neck, making you sigh again and again.

You moaned as you felt the pleasure wash over you. “Such a good boy my precious Charlie.” you said with a husky voice. “I'm close too, handsome.” you whimpered and you closed your eyes.

The climax reached you two making you tremble with pleasure, your legs trembled and you felt how your breathing stopped being erratic. He rested his forehead against yours and kissed every little part of your face, while you just smiled, the love you feel for this man is incredible, something that goes beyond a simple discussion of strategies or friendly companionship.

When you finally felt that everything in you was completely normal, you spoke. “That... That was, amazing charlie.” you whispered softly, giving him a kiss on his cheek, he smiled. “You made me feel good... I haven't felt like this in a long time.” there was no lie in your statement, it had been a long time since the last time someone had made you feel as good as Charles had.

He smiled and blushed. “It was nothing sunshine, everything for you and only you.” he kissed your cheek. “I think you deserve good things more than anyone else.” he whispered too.

After a few seconds, silence was present in the room, but it was a fairly comfortable one, your hands were intertwined with his and your thumb caressed the back of his hand, you smiled shyly at the sight, it was something that looked so cute and innocent.

He smiled again and looked at you with great affection in his eyes. “I love you, darling... Thank you for this!” He whispered sweetly and kissed your temple.

You smiled tenderly. “I love you too charlie.” you whispered too. “Don't you think we should take even a quick shower?” You say and let out a shy giggle.

He smiles and raises his eyebrows, blushing. “Oh... Of course love!”

You just smile at him again and you kiss his cheek. “And then you take me to my hotel?”

He denied and picked you up in his arms to walk to the small bathroom in his driver room, you let out a soft gasp. “Oh, no my love... We will go to my house!” He said.

You raised your eyebrows and chuckled. “But... And my things? Everything is in the hotel...” You started to say but he interrupted you, leaving several small kisses on your lips.

“Don't worry about it honey, we'll look for that before we go to my house.” he smiled. “Just worry about being pretty and smart, my honey.” you giggled at his words.

“You forgot to mention bossy.” he laughed and blushed.

“Oh sure, a little bossy, but that's how I like you.” he whispered on your lips and kissed you again.

You just smiled while you went into the shower, you felt very happy because you never thought that Charles had something for you and that at the end of the day it was something that you also wanted at some point. You admired him as a driver, that was for sure, but as a person it was a totally inexplicable thing. Today showed you that, apart from being good at taking orders, he was excellent pleasing you and showing his true emotions, you can't wait to see where this new journey might take you both.

#formula one x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles x reader #charles leclerc #mariclerc fics #charles x you #charles leclerc soft smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc soft

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olderthannetfic · 1 day

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hi, as someone who is tragically gen Z and only ever read AO3, can I ask: what was so great about LiveJournal? Like, I know that there were fics posted there (and I've even read about the "purge", so I get why it isn't used anymore) and that it was sort of a forum-type thing. But what I don't understand, wouldn't Tumblr fill in the latter function? How was that site any different? I see a lot of people reminiscing about it and I'm confused

A big factor in LJ's greatness is timing and nostalgia.

It was genuinely great, but it wasn't quite as great as all of the Lo, shall the Golden Age ne'er come again? posts suggest.

LJ arrived at a pivotal time in the development of the internet both in terms of technical stuff and how many people had access. Many fans who are now in their thirties to fifties first discovered fandom through LJ and many were at a time in their lives when they were feeling energetic and up to making lots of new friends—and to figuring out how to make a site work for them.

I got on LJ in 2002 when it required invites. Fandom arrived in droves in 2003, first via coordinated campaigns to get invites to key people and then when LJ opened up free account creation to everyone. Back then, LJ's features sucked. It was impossible to search properly, among other things. At its height (2005-7, let's say), there was a reasonable site search, and fans had developed all sorts of community resources for finding each other.

People often remember this phase but not the early days of suckitude.

This development parallels how Tumblr used to not have that private chat feature and how a lot of fuckyeah[whatever] type tumblrs have helped curate the site and make it much more usable for fans. Fandom draining away from LJ after strikethrough also parallels people draining away from Tumblr after the purge.

There are people who talk about Tumblr the way my cohort talks about LJ...

And to the shock of no one, they are people who came of age on Tumblr, who found fandom via Tumblr, who were on Tumblr during pivotal times in their lives and ones when they had energy to make friends and figure out how a site worked.

Those same Tumblrites are now making all the same geriatric-sounding posts we LJers do about how other sites lack the required features to be good for fandom while missing that 90% of tumblr's "features" at its height (2012-2016, let's say) were actually fan-created and were basically the same as any fandom newsletter or links page or all the versions of this kind of personal curation stretching back to long before the internet existed.

What life phase you hit a site at matters.

With all of that said, no, LJ was not a forum. It was a blogging site with threaded comments.

The key point to understand is that conversation was always happening in a specific person's space. Unlike on a true forum, people were in the comments on a particular post in a journal owned by another fan. (On a forum, there's the first post in a thread, but it's still more of a communal space with less of a hierarchy.)

Overall, the LJ format can have a feeling a bit like you're over at someone's house for tea. There's more of a sense of intimacy and also behaving yourself in front of community members.

Tumblr being obscure and impossible to find anything in does give it some of the same vibe relative to Twitter, but it's still part of modern social media that tries to shove every rando into the face of every other rando.

But it wasn't just vibes: LJ also had robust privacy features where you could lock a post to this or that group of friends. You could moderate your comments section properly. Tumblr has far fewer controls to force people to behave or leave on a technical level.

The biggest thing many people miss about LJ is the threaded comments. At least by late LJ and on Dreamwidth, you can expand and collapse threads, making it far easier to deal with a massive comments section. But more than that, things are properly threaded with multiple levels of hierarchy that are all easily visible in the same place.

On Tumblr, it used to be extremely difficult to find all of the actual commentary on a post. Nowadays, it's far easier, but you still have to scroll chronologically, and multiple versions of a post with a long chain of commentary may be much more divorced from each other than what would happen in a LJ comments section.

But could we use Tumblr pretty much how we used LJ?

We could.

I do.

The key things that people tend to miss about LJ, aside from the younger and more excited version of themselves or the friends they've lost since then, are:

Heavily text-based

It may sound odd on the modern internet, but there are a lot of people whose brains don't like or handle an image-heavy site well. They were everywhere in SF book fandom. They were everywhere on the early internet. Today, they're hanging out on Dreamwidth and still going to their SF cons. They're usually not on Tumblr.

You could follow the discussion

Threaded comments help, but a lot of it is about having some place you can check for updates. It wasn't actually that easy to follow big LJ discussions unless you were subscribed to comments and reading along as things were happening instead of coming along after the entire mass of comments had been left.

The tone of the discussion is intellectual and one's enemies are "idiots", not "problematic"

All this requires is a penchant for longwindedness and an itchy blocking finger to remove anyone slinging ad hominems from the comments section.

On tumblr, it's as simple as conversations happening in the replies on a popular account and that person not tolerating suibaiting and threats.

(And make no mistake, a lot of LJ discussion was in the comments on popular accounts, not spread equally between everyone's.)

It does require that multiple people like that tone and want to engage in that way, but lots of people do want to.

These days, I interact with tumblr by checking my askbox and reading my activity page. The vast, vast majority of my posts are ones where I'm the OP, so if I block someone, they're booted from the discussion entirely.

For me... yeah, Tumblr functions almost exactly like LJ.

Also like LJ, while I'm hosting the conversation, if you hang around, you'll see the same people again and again in the comments. They may or may not also host that kind of conversation in their space, and there's a larger pool of lurkers who have some notion of which people count as regulars. Other people are watching from the shadows, enjoying or deriding the takes of the usual crowd.

People presumably do like reading my lengthy commentary or they wouldn't be here, but my tumblr wouldn't be popular like this without a healthy pool of other people who chime in regularly. It's not just that there are more people: it's that you see the same people over time. There's a bit more sense of place and community than on some parts of the internet.

So, in my opinion, the failure to just recreate LJ fandom on Tumblr was a skill issue.

Threaded comments were great, but LJ culture came from mailing lists, and mailing lists had the same issue as tumblr with the diverging threads.

We solved that back then by clipping out only the parts we wanted to respond to (you'd write "snip" around the quotation to show it was incomplete). We solved the smaller LJ issue by linking to other posts we were referencing and doing discussion link roundups. We solve it on tumblr by, again, linking to what we're talking about and even quoting multiple reblog chains in our own reblog of just one chain.

Tumblr's technical features and even general crap-ness aren't really the problem. 90s and early 00s sites regularly went down for periods of time unthinkable today.

The missing piece is people.

When one is in an active fandom with others who curate or with friends who let one know what's up, a site with imperfect features is easy to figure out and retrofit for fandom's needs. When one already feels out of touch and is between fannish passions—or at least fannish passions anyone else cares about—seeing the potential in a new site is hard.

Threaded comments are different and better.

LJ's built-in way to see everyone's blog in your own style was better. The automatic timestamps and the ease of seeing a paginated archive of an entire blog was better than tumblr's endless scroll and lack of clear date labeling. But some of that can be fixed with xkit or knowing your way around tumblr well.

A lot of it is nostalgia for the lj era and a refusal to take the time to figure out how to use tumblr in an oldschool internet way.

So by all means, people, weigh in about what made LJ great or how the culture felt at the time...

But if I see one more god damn response going "You can't have a conversation on tumblr!" in reply to my tumblr, which contains nothing but conversation, I am coming for you.

#fandom history #fandom meta

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authorhjk1 · 19 hours

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How would you do a short free-use story staring your favorite idol?

Thanks for the ask! Although I'm not sure what you mean exactly with "How" Do you want me to explain it or write it? I decided to just write it, hope you enjoy. @mechaknight-98 I saw your other request, I will get to it when I have the time.

(I hope I understood the concept of free-use correctly)

White

Kim Jisoo X Male Reader

You hear voices behind the door, after you rang the doorbell. Footsteps come closer and you take a step back. A moment later, the door is being opened.

For a moment, you are stunned by her beauty. How can a person be so pretty? So perfect? You smell her flowery scent. Maybe roses.

Her eyes grow big once she realises who is standing in front of her.

"(Y/n), I-I..."

Jisoo stutters, too surprised to see you standing in front of her parent's mansion. The young heiress of the Kim Group is usually very well spoken.

"What are you doing here?"

"Just came back from a business trip. I haven't had your pussy in weeks."

You catch her flinching.

Despite the amount of times you've already taken advantage of your arrangement, she is still uncomfortable talking about it openly.

"S-Sure. Please follow me."

Jisoo turns around and leads you inside her parent's place, after you shut the door behind you. You walk behind her, enjoying the view of her naked shoulders. The back of her necklace sparkles in the light of the chandelier in the hallway.

Approaching the big wooden stairs in the middle of the house, the two of you pass by the entrance to the dining room.

"Jisoo!"

She freezes in place, before you both look into the room. You recognize her parents, who sit on one side of the table. A chair is empty, the one next to it is occupied by Jisoo's fiance.

"Who is this man?"

Her father looks at you in suspicion.

"He is a business partner of mine. We are headed to my study, cause we have to make an important decision on the future of our companies' relationship, which can't be delayed."

That's the Jisoo everyone knows. The strong, independent and successful businesswoman. The complete opposite of the Jisoo you know. Your submissive, free-use toy.

Her father nods in approval, visibly oblivious. You do a short bow in his direction. Jisoo starts walking again. Her chin raised, back straight.

Halfway up the stairs, you can't help it anymore. She just looks flawless. And you really have been longing for her for weeks.

You reach out, your hand squeezing her ass through her white dress. Jisoo jumps, but she doesn't say anything. She keeps walking as if nothing is happening. After squeezing her right cheek a couple of times, you stop walking, making her stop too.

"Suck me off."

Jisoo turns around. You are almost at the top of the stairs already. You see the confusion in her eyes. Why can't you wait one more minute?

But she doesn't talk back. Jisoo carefully gets on her knees in front of you, making sure she doesn't mess up her dress somehow.

A moment later, your cock lands on her face. Jisoo closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as she savours your smell. You can tell that your absence made her sexually frustrated.

"Are you still waiting until you married him?"

It's an odd question to ask, when the soon to be bride is giving the tip of your dick a sensual kiss.

"Yes. But he keeps trying to initiate something. I don't know if he is gonna wait until he puts a wedding ring on my finger."

You sigh as your gaze gets caught on the big silver diamond ring on her ring finger. The hand it's on is stroking your cock, while she talks.

"I don't like it. But I can't blame him."

You reach down and cup her cheek. Jisoo leans into it, looking up at you with big eyes.

"A woman like you could make a man do whatever she wants. You are fucking gorgeous."

You quickly realize the irony of your words. You are making her do whatever you want.

"Thank you."

A shy smile plays around her lips. Jisoo still can't take compliments. At least when they are coming from you.

After your quick exchange, she finally starts giving you head properly. You can't believe how much of a slut you've turned her into. She is sucking you off in the middle of her parents house in plain sight, while her parents and her boyfriend are in the room next door.

"That's a good girl."

You encourage Jisoo as she bobs her head on your cock. You've missed her mouth. The way her lips wrap around you. The way her tongue glides along your length. The way her throat tightens, when you push past her gag reflex.

As exciting and adventurous this little scene might be, you know that you will get caught sooner rather than later, if you don't move on.

"Let's go to your room. I don't want to waste my time here when I could be in there, plowing your pussy like I own it."

You help Jisoo to her feet, catching the slight blush on her cheeks.

"Because I do."

You whisper into her ear, before spinning her around.

The two of you finally make it down the hallway without any further incidents. Once you reach her room, you walk inside, waiting for her to close the door behind her.

She has turned into a shy, innocent girl once again. You lean against Jisoo, pressing her against the door, kissing every inch of her exposed skin.

"How did I even make it these couple of weeks without this body of yours?"

It was a rhetoric question between kisses, but Jisoo tries to come up with an explanation. An explanation that satisfies you.

"I send you several pictures of me every day. And videos. I kept thinking of you while I..."

A growl escapes your lips. The power you have over her right now gives you a familiar rush of adrenaline.

"Strip."

You sit down on the edge of her bed, crossing your arms in front of you. If you were sitting on a chair at your desk, it would've looked like Jisoo was there to apply for an internship.

She shyly brushes all of her hair on her right side behind her ear.

"Can you help me please?"

Jisoo turns around. She know uses her whole hand to put all of her hair over her left shoulder. You reach upwards, taking the zipper of her dress, before slowly pulling it down. Your eyes follow her dress as she lets it slip down her frame.

Her porcelain like skin and her white lace panties captivate you. Her fiance must go mad, knowing she is together with him and he still can't have her.

The sight of Jisoo, standing in front of you almost completely naked, makes you finally jump into action. You pin her against the door, before she can react. Your pants are on the floor a second later.

After pushing the white fabric to the side, Jisoo does nothing but moan as you ease yourself inside.

"Oh fuck."

You groan into her ear, relishing in the familiar feeling of being inside her tight cunt. Jisoo's cheek is pressed up against the white wood as she takes your pounding from behind. Her moans are deeper than they usually are. Maybe because you haven't fucked her in a while. Or because her parents and fiance are downstairs.

You kiss her other cheek and her naked shoulders as you thrust into her again and again. Her scent only makes you go harder. You hold her waist with both hands, pounding her against the door.

Jisoo's eyes are closed. You can't tell if it's because she is liking it so much, or because she is cheating. Either way, you keep using her body to make yourself cum. Her tight walls do most of the job. They squeeze around you, trying to make you cum as quick as possible.

Leaning against her, you fuck her into the door, slowly approaching your orgasm.

"Fuck Jisoo."

She knows what's coming next, moaning a little louder as she feels you throbbing inside of her.

That rush, coming from knowing you are using another man's woman as a free-use toy, pushes you over the edge. You claim Jisoo's pussy as yours as you paint her insides white. She feels your cum warm her lower region. While her fiance is probably begging her to sleep with him, you don't even bother asking where she would want your cum. You creampie Kim Jisoo, enjoying the familiar feeling of her cum filled pussy squeezing your cock.

Jisoo was never the loud type. Which is a blessing in disguise, especially when you use her in public. She barely talks, only moans and whines escape her mouth. It fits her reserved, proud character. Jisoo doesn't look very elegant or proud right now as you finally come to a hold. You bite into her ear, just above her earrings. As she flinches and hisses in pain, you only have time to think for barely a second. You wonder if she bought them, or her fiance did. They look beautiful on her.

When you open your eyes again, you see your teeth marks in her ear. Jisoo's forehead is now leaning against the wood. Her eyes are still closed, she is taking heavy breaths.

Resting your chin on her naked shoulder, you stay buried inside her snug hole.

"I have a meeting with your company tomorrow."

You kiss her neck, this time more careful not to leave a mark.

"Put your hair in a ponytail. I need something to hold onto. You don't want me to mess up your hair, do you?"

You step into her huge office after the first half of the long meeting is over. Jisoo surely did not disappoint.

Throughout the whole meeting, you were the only person aware of the fact that Jisoo is not wearing anything underneath that dress. She send you a picture this morning. She is only one button away from standing naked in front of you.

You walk around her desk, sitting down in her comfortable leather chair. Jisoo knows how the two of you will spend your lunch break.

#ask #kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #blackpink #blackpink jisoo #blackpink smut #kim jisoo #bp jisoo #jisoo smut #jisoo #authorhjk1shorts

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tinydefector · 3 days

Note

Do you think cybertronians ever get a bit freaked out on how tough we are? Yes they can break us like toothpicks but humans seem to be able to take a good beating as well with adrenaline helping. Even our own body and oxygen trys kills us and yet we stick around like roaches. We're fragile in some reasonable and dumb ways and then resilient in the most dumbest ways.

Oh definitely, alot of the bots are very off put by how fragile humans are just in general and tend to avoid them.

But then there's the moments like Ratchet working a late shift and a small knock on the door alerts him someone's there, he turns around expecting it to be Rodimus or Whirl who he's about to scold but instead it's one of the humans and they look worse for wear. After fussing over them for a moment, detailed scans relay fractured ribs, a broken collar bone, and a heap of bruises and yet the humans just like. "Can I have some Panadol, Nurophen, and a glass of water?" Because they don't know what else to do its what they would get. Most of the times they ended up in the hospital. Ratchet is losing his God dawn mind as he rushes around looking for the best painkillers he can find for orgaincs in the smallest dosage he can give, hoping to primus it doesn't shut their heart down. In the end, they end up on a medication that makes them extremely drowsy, almost like the green whistle/ Weed.

Ratchet ends up doing alot of study on the human body and realises just how fucked up little monsters we are. We literally need oxygen to survive but he we have to much pure oxygen it will kill us. Water, we need a certain amount of it, if we don't have enough we will get dehydrated and die, if we have to much we will get water poisoning, intoxication, or a disruption of brain function. This happens when there's too much water in our cells, such as the brain and blood cells, causing them to swell. When the cells in the brain swell, they cause pressure in the brain, resulting in death. The issue is that it can become an addiction to drinking too much water for the effect it has on the body. Same with nearly everything we consume, it can kill us, but we need a lot of it in moderation.

Human: "I just need some basic pain killers and a nap"

Bot: "No, you need full surgery, sedations, and 3 weeks of recovery!"

Human: "nah she'll be fine!"

Bot: "Absolutely Not, bed now before I cuff you"

____________

Following that imagine a first contact AU where Cybertronians and humans are just slowly getting to know how the other works and next thing a human is kneeling over in horrific pain and it send the bots all into panic mode trying to help them, wondering what's happening and thinking they are dying. And the human after about ten minutes some pain killers still looking rather pale and unhealthy just go. "Sorry about that fuck I hate, Cramps/palpitations/ phantom pains/ and such" and the bots are just looking at them horrified like.

Bot: NOT NORMAL!!!"

Human: what you talking about?

Bot: everything that just happened you literally just short circuited!

Human: nah that's causal wait till you see the really funky shit.

______________

Human pet AU

Cybertronian's keeping humans as pets is like humans keeping hamsters. Humans are some of the most homicidal, suicidal and just deranged creatures that Cybertronian's could keep as pets. It's gotten to the point that they are a luxury/ exotic pet because if you do not feed them the right stuff, give them the right amount of light and socialising, and they will just die. There are so many Cybertronian's who take their human into clinics worried as and its just the human being a little bustard because they didn't get the treat they wanted 2 weeks ago and are still holding that grudge. Not to mention, we are prone to causing as much trouble and issue. We are like cats.

But we are also very easily sick and primus forbid a human gets sick because to a bot they think it's a death sentence for their sweet little spitfire of a human who they have had now for ages. And the human looks ready to die, and the next day, they are up and about like nothing ever happened.

Human: if you don't feed me the meals I want I'm going to pretend to die. If you do feed me what I want I might actually die because I shouldn't be eating it.

Panicked bot: "MY HUMAN HAS GOTTEN SICK. HELP!?!"

Human: totally worth it.

_________

In conclusion, the cybertronians are rather wary/ concerned about how resilient humans really are.

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pottersdoll · 2 days

Note

hiii, i love the vibes of your acc and can’t wait for your writing! i was wondering if you could do like a enemies to lovers “who did this to you” with theo ahh i’m a sucker for this trope. if not that’s fine! hope you have a lovely day x

"who did it"

- theodore nott x reader ♡

TW: bruises, insults

🐇 author note: ty for making this req!! sorry cuz it took so long to came out tot, i didn't liked how it was going, but i hope you will!! ♡♡

there was nobody to help, absolutely no one. it was only you and the February moon, the only one who knew about your nocturne tears.

Cedric, your boyfriend, could be awesome. a lot of girls would define him like the real charming prince, but in reality, the only charming thing was the way he could tell you how much he loved you after kicking your poor body just because you helped a 1st year boy to do his potions essay.

every part of you body hurted, not just for the big amount of bruises in it, but your desesperation was manifested through yourself in a weak shaking. the only thing you could think about was how much you hated him. hot tears started to fall down your cheeks, making you sob and whine again, quietly.

suddenly, you felt a small step vibration from the Astronomy tower stairs, getting up.

Theodore Nott's body reveled through the ancient door, examining the space. when he saw your body in the balcony's floor, he let out a airy laugh "what's happening to you right now?" he walked in your direction, putting his arms in his chest and lying in the wall, looking at you with a sarcastic smirk.

fastly, you covered a bruise on you naked arm with your hand, squeezing your eyes in slightly pain. when you did that, he started to tease you "what's up? you don't want me to see thoose stupid draws you make in class on your skin? what did you make now? an unicorn, a bowtruckle.." playing, he took your hand off your arm, specting a dumb doodle of yours. but, instead, his pupils dilated when the purple and blue bruise got his attention, making him freeze.

"go away" you said defensively, covering it again. the desesperation was running through your veins, it couldn't be worse. the feeling of him making fun of it and telling everyone that you were in a abusive environment made your stomach ache.

your eyes started to blurry, water was born from them, the only thing you could do was getting out from there. when you turned off to go out, you felt a big hand taking your wrist, strong enough to stop you from making another step.

he pulled it, making your body be near his "y/n" he said, his cold gaze meeting your blurry and sad eyes "who did it." he demanded to know, making your spine cold. "it's nothing, theodore. my own business" you avoided answering that question, under no term you would tell him what actually happened "let me go, please" you demanded too.

he wasn't an easy guy, "ascolta" he said in your ear, with a deep voice and a foreign accent "if that little boyfried of yours did it, im going to break his jaw till he begs me to kill him, bene?" that words came out from his mouth like a dark an evil poem. "so, y/n" he repeats, in a clear tone. his hands were stroking your shoulders harder "who did it?"

you sob, giving up to his light but deep eyes. they were your missery and your miracle, a perfect sin for a girl like you. "Cedric." the name of your boyfriend left your lips like a cold breeze. "coglione" he shouted looking to another direction, frustrated. his ears were getting red and his finger bones pale. "theodore, don't be stupid, please. don't do anything" you tried to stop him by grabbing his arm. "bella," he said looking at you, with a sudden smirk on his face "i would be too dumb if I don't give that fucker what he deserves" he lifts your chin with too fingers, looking at your lips "let me take the control at least once, mhm?" after saying thoose words, his lips collisioned with yours, in a short but hungry kiss. when it ended, he just gave you a flirty wink, before getting out the tower.

♡

the other day, you spent all the afternoon in the nursery, hearing the story of how your boyfriend got 3 bones broken by a masked student; and in the other corner of the salon, you could feel that european satisfied eyes looking at you.

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devoutekuna · 3 days

Text

Cooking with him.

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

Sukuna-

He can cook but chooses not to, why would he cook if he has a personal chef to himself. Stood in the kitchen as he searched for some fruit, daughter tracing the markings he had on his legs. "Daddy lets cook for mama" the thought of spending time with her father was the only reason she wanted to cook. "No" a straight no, she knew that he'd need some convincing though.

"But, I've seen mummy and Uraume cook, I can do it!" Grabbing onto his leg as he tried to walk off, acting as if she was too heavy to kick off. "No you can't! Your incapable of cooking" Looking down at the pink haired girl staring so profusely up at him, doing her puppy eyes which would win anyone over.

Cutting up a few onions from the dish, sat ontop of the counter as she placed the onion in her lap, knife inches away from her thigh. "Don't do that, it's stupid" putting the onion and knife on the table so that he could place her on the stool. "Don't be stupid" stood right beside her as she cut it up, it was going so painfully slow,he was starting to get tired especially since she had two more to go. Having the dismantle technique, of course he's gonna use it to his advantage, throwing the onion up in the air as it sliced, leaving diced cubes along the counter top. "Awe, you got it all over the counter daddy" trying to brush the vegetable into a pile. "Shut up, you were going to slow."

Nanami-

An expert as he cooks most nights, especially when your too tired to prepare meals for the week, it was a simple task to him. "Lemme help you papa!" Hands making it onto the counter as he kneaded the dough, eyes sticking up from behind the counter. Glancing down and the blonde realising she was on a stool, no wonder she got so tall, already got her hair tied back into a ponytail and apron on. "I'm almost done darling" he felt a bit bad but he was so busy so he wanted to finish this quickly.

"Please!" Her crys, only convincing him that she should help him, all he had to do was cook the rice after washing it and cook the chicken. "I mean, you can do the rice?" He didn't trust her much with food since he knew that she was just a toddler and would make a mess.

"Uh oh" seeing the rice poured down the drain, all of it in the sink rather than the bowl. Atleast half of it going through the drain pipe already. "What happened here?" It was bound to happen, he tried not to act annoyed but he definitely was.

Gojo-

He doesn't know anything about cooking since he rarely cooked for himself, if he did it would just be a precooked meal.

"Right, how small am I cutting this?" Glancing at you for some guidance here, a look of distraught and confusion on his face as she saw what he would be cutting up next. He was tasked with all the vegetables since you thought it would be easier for him rather than the meat which you tasked your son with. "Dice it Satoru" looking over his shoulder as you inspected how small it should be.

"Hurry up! Mum says the vegetables go in before the chicken!" He clearly took his father's personality when it came to patience. "I'm trying my best here!" Though he says that he's good at everything, he was horrible when it came to food. Grabbing another knife from the drawer as you helped him out, you were hungry and wanted food already.

Geto-

He was smart about it, giving her an easy task like stirring the pot, somehow she messed that up, hearing the clutter of a pot hitting the floor, body in the fetal position as she looked at the mess. "Uh oh" the sound of his daughter's voice made him respond quickly, hands on his hips as he scanned the mess on the ground, food spilled all over the floor, boiling water all over his new tiles too. "Sorry papa" feeling a bit bad for the mess. "It's fine" it clearly wasn't as that was one of the main dishes. "As long as you aren't hurt then we're good" nodding her head in response.

Toji-

"Your lucky I can't find my wallet" stuck cutting up some potatoes into long rectangular shapes. His daughter clearly was enjoying this, pouring a bottle full of oil into the pan. "No! That's too much baby" taking the bottle from her hands as she giggled, watching as the oil started to splatter up into his face, throwing a lid onto the pan.

"Turn it down!" Shouting at him, she had seen you do this multiple times, so she acted like the boss when it came to cooking. "It's on the lowest heat!" Going back to the cutting of the potatoes. "Hurry up daddy!" Slapping his leg as she jumped up and down, it was her first time being allowed in the kitchen whilst someone was cooking, let alone helping them.

It was a few minutes after he poured the potatoes into the pan, he didn't know anything about making chips so it was a new experience for him. "You took too long! Mummy woke up" she wanted to surprise you with her cooking skills, making you a plate of chips before you woke up.

#geto fluff #gojo fluff #sukuna fluff #nanami fluff #toji fluff #geto x reader #gojo x reader #sukuna x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #geto suguru #gojo satoru #sukuna ryomen #nanami kento #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #jjk #𝙳𝚎𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚎𝙺𝚞𝚗𝚊

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bbina · 2 days

Text

"pleaseeee"

"you wouldn't be able to pronounce them properly"

"that's why i asked you to teach me!"

you huff, crossing your arms at the now smirking boy in beside you. right now you were trying to get your boyfriend to teach you at least some basic chinese phrases just for the fun of it

but being the stubborn little shit he is, obviously he's gonna make you work for it as if it's some reward to be taught in his native language

chenle hums, thinking for a split second before clearing his throat. "nĭ hăo. that means hello"

you honestly can't believe him right now. was he being for real?

chenle cackles at your reaction. "what? you said basic so i just taught you how to say hello!"

"obviously i know that! by basic i mean like simple phrases like "what does my honey bunch sugar plum want for dinner?" or some shit like that!" you pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance. is this what jisung feels on the daily basis?

just watching chenle laugh his ass off was not helping. maybe you'd try to ask on another day when he didn't feel the need to annoy you. with an irritated sigh, you get up from the couch but his hand grabs your wrist to prevent you from leaving

"okay okay. i'm sorry. i'll be serious now" chenle manages to choke out after laughing too much. you huff, snatching your hand away from him before leaning back on the couch, waiting for him to say something

"ràng wǒmen yīqǐ chéngzhǎng, yīqǐ xuéxí, dùguò yúshēng (让我们一起成长，一起学习，度过余生。).. try saying that" chenle suddenly sits up, all giddy all of a sudden.

"that's too complicated-"

"just say it slowly"

"rang.. women yiqi... cheng..zhang, yiqi xue..xí, duguo.. yu..sheng?"

chenle suddenly scoots closer to you to give you a big fat kiss on the cheek. "good job, babe!" he chirps, circling his arms around your frame. "your pronunciation still needs a little work but that could do"

now you don't even know what the fuck you just said but based from his positive reaction you might as well think of it as a good sign. especially with what happened to mark that one time you witnessed chenle teaching him how to say something in chinese.. which obviously did not end well...

"what did i say though?" you ask, snuggling closer to your boyfriend.

"ehh it's something you don't have to know... for now" chenle brushes your question off. now leaning his head on top of yours as he seemingly tightens his grip around you.

what's gotten into him?

"let's just say it's something i'll be down to do if it means it will be with you"

#nct imagines #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #nct dream scenarios #chenle imagines #chenle x reader #chenle scenarios #zhong chenle imagines #zhong chenle x reader #zhong chenle scenarios #testing the waters if bbina tenants would love my husband

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lovifie · 9 hours

Text

Fishy Business (Mermay'24)

Mermaid!Soap x Reader

4k words - masterlist

Cw: injuries, smut, oral sex, unprotected p in v, monsterfucking(?, let me know if I missed any 💙

Johnny has been living in the tank for two weeks now.

Discovering mermaids were real, shock the world, but in all honesty, only for a couple of days before the evil human mind started to think of ways to profit out of them.

Luckily, mermaids were not stupid and knew perfectly fine that they needed to stay away from the human reach; almost able to smell the putrid aroma of ill intentions pouring out of them.

But no matter how good they hide, humans still find the way to, even if not on purpose, to damage the ecosystem. And when you get the call that a mermaid got his tail tangled on the propeller of a boat and needed urgent care, you weren't really surprised.

You sent your instructions, so the poor thing could get the needed treatment while you made your way to Pentland Firth.

It only took you a couple of days to reach John Price's aquarium. Gruff, big guy that offered the empty tank at his fish sanctuary to keep the merman until it got released.

A solid handshake was his welcoming greeting when he opened the door and he let you into his house. “It's nice to finally meet you, Doctor. You’re making quite a name for yourself lately.” He said, a kind smile on his face making his beard move with it and wearing a funny looking hat more fitting of a sailor on his head.

“Well, not so hard to do so when there is so little competition in mermaid care.” You answered, not completely lying. Little was known about the mermaids, and almost every paper that got published was the first of its kind. Your name just happened to appear on most of them.

“Then I can assume you know your way around them? Sneaky little shits, with kind eyes and sharp teeth.” He said, a chuckle leaving his mouth as if he just remembered something.

“To be completely honest, you have probably seen more than me.” You admit, as you walk next to him, trying to keep up with his pace. “I hear they are quite a number up North, they must like the cold.”

“They like the lack of people.” He almost interrupts you with a low unhumorous chuckle. “This one swam a wee bit to the south… and look what happened.”

You see him shake his head, as if he felt guilty himself of the creature getting hurt. “Anyway, ready to meet him?” He asks, the kind smile back on his face as he takes a corner. He opens the only glass door on the hall, and with a hand on the small of your back, he lets you into the platform sitting over the water surface inside of the tank.

The metal platform rustles with the weight of the man walking alongside, only stopping when he walks up to the man standing at the end of the gangway. Standing just a couple of feet away from them you are able to comprehend their size, massive men, broad, strong, muscular, tall men. They definitely don't look like the classical marine biologist who would own a fish sanctuary.

But then the water splashes, making you look to where the surface of the water is rippling, but without any sign of what causes it.

“Simon, let me introduce you to the doctor. Doctor, Simon here has been the person in charge of following your instructions.” He slaps Simon's back hard, it reverberates against the tank walls but the blonde looks like he didn't even feel it. He is wearing a surgical mask and the rest of his body is covered by a wetsuit. A little contradictory thing.

“Nice to meet you, Simon. How has it been?” You ask, smiling as you look up at him.

“Like givin’ a stray cat a bath.” He mumbles, shaking your hand with a strength that has you trying your best not to shake with it.

“And him? How is it?” You ask, trying your best to be professional and not act like a kid in a candy shop. But the truth is, this is the first time you are going to interact directly with a merman.

“Hm… Like a stray cat that got splashed with cold water.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.

“You are good with metaphors…” You mumble, hearing Price snickers behind you. “So… not really happy with the treatment, then?’

Simon shakes his head, looking back into the water. “Nah, the sashimi shit doesn't want anyone to touch him, and his tail is looking more and more grey as days go by.”

You hum, nodding as you turn to also look into the water. “I'll work on some antibiotics to pour into the water… it won't be as effective, but it'll be a start.”

Price turns as well, all eyes on the water looking for the creature that seems to have disappeared into the water. Camouflage abilities are not to be dismissed taking in consideration how little is known about them, but if Simon was just dealing with him, they should be able to see it.

You look into the deep end, the hairs of your nape rising when you feel eyes on you. But the water in front of your eyes is empty, not a droplet moving out of his place and the only thing you can hear is both men breathing next to you.

“How does he look? Maybe if I have a mental image I can-”

You don't get to finish your sentence, at least not before you feel a wet hand wrap around your ankle and pull it. Hard.

It doesn't give you time to use your hands to stop the fall before your chin knocks the metal of the ground, the skin bursting at the hard hit. A single drop of blood mixes with the water underneath before two pairs of hands grab your arms keeping you from going under the water.

At the pull of your body, you feel sharp claws rupture the surface of your skin where they are holding you, only stopping when Simon stomps his foot right beside yours, threatening to step on him next.

“Enough, Johnny!” He snarls at the creature, standing between you and him, while you cling to Price's legs. If you end up underwater, you are not going alone.

It is hard for you to focus your sight on anything, panic and pain mixing in your system. Only being able to see the creature when you hear him hiss at Simon. The stray cat comparison of Simon being really appropriate now.

The merman captivates you, looking perfectly human, still knowing that no human would stand so high over the surface in open water like him, your brain forcing you to remember the fish-like tail under the water.

You can't bring yourself to pull your eyes from him, both your hunger for knowledge from finally being so close to a real breathing merman and both for the fine specimen of a man staring you up and down like you will be his next dinner.

It's Price the one that pulls you away, helping you on your feet and keeping his arm around your waist to help you walk without resting weight on your foot as he walks you out of the tank. Behind you, and without you noticing, Simon and Johnny share a knowing look, only broken when Johnny gives him a short nod before sinking back in the water, the taste of your blood still floating on it..

It's already night time when you hear the noises, like a piece of furniture falling against the floor. And against your better judgement, you walk, well, limp out of the room you were laying down in.

Turns out Simon and Price are not the only ones living in the sanctuary, and there is a third man called Kyle who was the one that bandaged up your foot and chin.

The ground trembles under your feet as you walk closer, each step you take letting you know with more certainty that the sound is coming from Johnny's tank. You see it before he sees you, standing in the shadows behind the glass door as the merman swims in circles.

Gaining inertia before slamming his body against the wall of the tank making it shake. You see his nostrils flare with his troubled breathing, the grills on his neck moving just as fast. It's such a worrying behaviour that your doctor brain makes you act on it before you can realise how stupid of a decision it is.

You turn the knob opening the door, barely managing to get a foot in before a deep voice startles you. “What th’ fuck did ye pour intae th’ water?! I'm fucking drowning!”

It takes you a second to realise it is the merman talking to you, muscular chest rising with each hard breath as his arms, big enough to crush a skull, hold his body over the water surface.

It also takes you a second to realise that what he means is the medicine in the water, the pungent taste of the chemicals probably making him struggle to breath as normal as before.

“It's the antibiotics.” You answer, almost mumbling. The lights from the tank making the water reflect into the walls in a beautiful imaginary that almost works to trick your brain into ignoring the danger. “For your tail.”

“My tail is perfectly fine! I dinnae need yer bullshit! I need tae go back!” He shouts back, slamming his fist on the metal like a petulant child.

“It is infected! If it enters your blood system you could die!” You shout back, setting both feet a step further into the tank.

“Lies! Human inventions! I'm perfectly fine!” The water splashes around his body when he waves his tail to push himself further out of the water.

“If you were fine you wouldn't stink of rotten fish!” Another step closer to him.

“I dinnae stink! That's just how I smell!” He sits on the gangway, pushing his body out of the water to do so, the massive tail that forms his lower body making the metal creak under his weight.

The sheer size of it doesn't stunt you, it being just proportional to the width of his upper body. But the scales that cover it, dazzling with the light of the reflections and looking like its own miniature sea. Speckles of blue, green and silver dancing around making it hard to look away from it, and making it impossible to miss the pink colour of the exposed meat. Not grey anymore.

“It is already looking better…” You explain, pointing to his wound as you keep walking closer. “You cannot tell me that it doesn't hurt less.”

He follows the direction you point at, quickly moving back so it is under the water; away from your gaze and making you frown at how little time you had to stare.

“That's just because time went by…” He says, almost mumbling and averting your gaze. “I need to go back.”

“Why?” You ask, the volume of your voice also lowering as you bend down to sit, crossed legged but with the injured one still sticking out. “Somebody waiting for you?”

“Yes!” He raises his voices once again, exasperated with your ignorance of his issues. “Everyone is fooling around, and next year when they all havd their wee bairns I'll be alone and I dinnae wantae! 'n' I cannae dae nothing about it cause a'm stuck here!”!”

His words slowly clicks into place, his eagerness to leave, the specially shiny scales, wandering outside of his territory. “It's mating season… mermaids have mating season?”

This is not the time to be asking these questions, you are here to help the merman heal not to study him like an aquarium specimen. But you can't help yourself to ask, only second guessing yourself when the merman looks at you like you just grew a second head. “Obviously… humans dinnae?”

You stare at him, thinking it thoroughly before answering. “Not… really, no.”

“And when do humans mate?”

“...anytime”

The disgust appears on his face as if you had just insulted him and everyone he has ever loved.

“Ye spend th’ whole year shagging, and then have the balls to call us beasts… hypocrites.”

“It's not like that!” You exclaim, suddenly afraid of disappointing the beautiful merman. There is a split second in with you remember every singles fable that talk about dangerous mermaids are, how they lure people in with pretty songs and prettier faces only to get eaten alive, how they trick sailor man to crash their boats in the rocks and then they have a feast on the corpses.

The alarm bell is loud and clear in your head, but just as easily it gets silenced when his wet warm hand lands on your injured foot, right under the bandages. He looks confused at it, eyebrows furrowed and slight pout on his lips.

You shouldn't let him grab you, last time he didn't drown you because Simon and Price picked you up. But you are alone now, and instead of pulling your foot back, you lean in, closer to the creature, and peel the bandages up, showing him the wound.

“I did this?” He asks, his fingertip grazing the skin surrounding the wound. You nod at him, your eyes glued to his face not wanting to lose a single expression of him. He furrows his eyebrows again, his hand moving to rest on the underside of your calf. “Humans are weak… I barely touched ye.”

“We are not weak… You just have sharp nails…” The sound of your voice makes him pull his gaze up, catching how you scratch the skin close to the wound of your chin, the sting from the stitches making you itch.

He pulls your leg again, softer this time, and it should worry you more with how much ease he is able to move you, with a grasp of your foot he easily slides you closer, leaving your feet hanging over the water.

He lays his hand flat beside your leg, propping himself up out of the water. With his arm completely stretched he towers over you, making you pull your head back so you can see his face. He looks down at you, cocking his head.

His other hand finds his way to your jaw, pulling your head even further back so he can see the wound on your chin. You can't see him with the new angle of your neck, but you can feel him get closer to your throat.

The feeling of his breath on the skin of your neck makes every hair on your body stand on end. The alarm bells ring in your head again, this man, as handsome as he is, is still an apex predator in the water that would be able to dismember you in seconds if he wanted to.

Still, and with that knowledge in mind, you have to bite your tongue to keep any tell-tale sounds from escaping you when you feel his face so close to yours.

"I dinnae do this one.... Are ye going to stick to yer theory that ye'r not weak? Or are ye just soft?" his deep voice murmurs, causing a shiver to travel down your spine.

His hand that was on your jaw moves down, resting on your thigh for a second before squeezing the soft flesh. Moving up slowly, dragging it over your skin to your hip, his thumb anchoring itself in the crease of skin between your thigh and your belly. Squeezing the flesh once more making you jump.

As his hand continues to move up, squeezing and whispering against your neck. "Soft... Soft from head to toe.... See? Soft, soft, soft..."

With each repetition of the word, he grabs a different part of your body. Your thigh, your hip, your tummy, your waist and it is when he reaches your chest, his hand wrapping around the soft flesh of your breast that he finally gets a sound to fall from your lips in the form of a faint moan of his name.

"What is it, my soft girl? I can feel yer pulse rising..... It's not fear, innit? Or something… else?" The whine that escapes your lips echoes against the walls of the tank, encouraging the merman in his movements.

The merman presses his wide body between your legs, forcing you to spread them apart to accommodate his width. And before you are able to form a full thought, about everything that is wrong with your actions; how morally wrong, how dangerous, what this could mean for your career... you feel the man's wide tongue travel from your collarbone to behind your ear, scorching your skin with the heat of his body.

Your hands grip his shoulders on impulse, feeling the strength leave your body as you feel him roll his hips against yours.

His assault on your neck continues, nibbling and licking until you instinctively wrap your legs around his hips. By the time you realise you are lying on the platform, opening your eyes to see the massive merman on top of your body with lust in his blue eyes.

You look down to where his hips are pressed against yours when you feel an unfamiliar weight over your pubic bone. Once again, a day's worth of interactions with this specimen is proving more productive than previous years of study, for the great unknown of how mermaids reproduce has just been revealed to you as you see the merman's member lying on your body.

And you are only aware of what kind of expression you have to have on your face when he speaks to you. "What's the matter, ye humans donnae have this either?"

"No, no, they have it, like... some do, but not so... like this.”

Once again, a deep chuckle drips from his chest making you look up to him as he looks down on where your pyjama shorts stick to your clothes when they get wet from the water dripping from his body. His fingertips bury themselves under the hem of your pants, trying to pull them down but grunting when he can't because his body is in the way.

He leans back, sinking back into the water and finally pulling your pants and underwear off, leaving you bare and exposed to him from waist down. You try to think of a reason as to why you seem so unbothered by his advances, it must be some kind of mermaid powers. The guy that took you on a date and asked to go to your home later? No. The guy you met online that asked to meet? iugh. But the merman on the tank that could ruin your career? Yeah, he's alright.

But mermaid powers or not, the way you feel his tongue lap at your soaked folds is very real and so is the whiny moan that falls from your lips. You feel him bury his face even deeper into your cunt, slurping the juices and moaning at the taste of them making you curl your toes. His hands move under your thighs, locking you in place so he can peacefully devour you.

Even though the man has no intentions of pulling back, you still grab the hair at the top of his head urging him closer which he happily complies making you moan softly. One of his hands moves closer to your cunt, dragging his claw over your skin making you shudder at the feeling.

You worry for a second that the merman will scratch you just like he did on your ankle, but instead he uses two fingers to spread your folds leaving you as exposed as he can before shoving his tongue into your entrance making you arch your back. The muscle dragging along the ribbed walls of your cunt, flooding his mouth with the taste of you.

A shameless whine escapes your lips when you feel him pull his face back, your grip on his head lacking all force. He coos at you, shushing your cries as he turns you on your stomach, keeping one of your knees bent as he slots himself behind you.

He props himself on an arm, keeping his chest flush against yours as his other arm hugs you pulling you impossibly closer to him as he rolls his hips to slide his already hardening dick between your folds, making you buck your hips to meet his movements. The heat of his wet body making you ache for more, to feel him closer, deeper.

You lower your hand, placing it between your legs and keeping his cock from moving forwards, making it sink into your welcoming walls. A harmony of moans filling the tank when he slowly sinks into you, the weight of his shaft inside of you feeling comforting in the cold of the tank.

The merman buries his face on the crook of your neck, biting softly your skin, just enough to feel you between his teeth as he moves his hips back, moaning at the feeling of your tight warm cunt sucking him back in.

He moans in tandem with you, a song of your voices accompanying the dance of your bodies. Everytime Johnny's hips move forwards, yours move back, the sound of skin slapping growing louder as his movements get faster.

Every snaps of his hips threaten to pull the air out of your lungs, leaving you unable to do anything else but moan at the feeling of his length hitting so deliciously deep while stretching your gummy walls to accommodate his girth.

“A'm gonnae tak' ye wi’ me once I'm out… would ye lik' that, bonnie lassie? Keep ye close, fucked ‘n’ dined, nae a single worry inside of that bonny head of yers but to take my big fucking cock as good as yer right now…” Every filthy word that leaves his lips, falling like melted honey into your ears making you clench around him, is accentuated with a snap of his hips making you bounce on his arms.

His arm that was hugging you moves lower, fingertips travelling down between your legs and rubbing tight circles over your clit making you whine as you close your eyes. You can hear his tail splash in the water with his movements, and you can tell when his thrust starts to become sloppier, almost losing the rhythm, but keeping it long enough for you to combust around his shaft.

He groans on your shoulder when your walls clench around his length like a vice, milking him for what he's worth, making hims moan against your skin as he keep moving his hips, slowly, letting the two of you ride out your orgasm as you try to get air back into your lungs.

Under the tank, on the underground level of the sanctuary and hidden in the shadows, three pairs of eyes see how Johnny kisses your shoulder softly.

“You know… I was feeling bad about dragging the poor girl into this mess, but… I don't think she minds it too much.” Gaz says, eyes glue to the two of you.

The thing is, that just like sailors knew that the earth was round long before anyone else; they also knew mermaids were real long before the rest of the world. But being able to communicate with one of the sea apex predators has its benefits, and negotiating with them usually translates to an improvement on the business.

And if the merman they accidentally run over with their boat says he wants a cute little partner to repopulate the north sea in exchange of pushing the fishes towards their fishing nets… they will get him a girlfriend to keep him happy.

After all, since humans always find a way to benefit from mermaids, it's only fair that mermaids benefit from humans too.

I hope you guys still wanted some mermaids, I don't know how it took me so long 🩷

Taglist: @crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @cod-z

@lyralein @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121

@spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @arbesa-mind @cmbghost

@multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles

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@soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @thesinsoflust

@sodavrr @yuki2129 @idk-justkane @shanhalen @dukeofjjune

@vane28282 @dracu1ara @vivi2e @lordbugs @murder-hobo

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