#and I want to fling them out the window

[lenalee-academy]

When you’re cruising along, deep into writing a multiple pov tonyfic and come to the chapter with that one character whose actions and motivations you just can’t quite grasp.

[magniloquent-raven]

give this man a pretty dress immediately

[radsplain]

conversing with TRAs in the tiktok comments on radfem videos is about to make me lose my fucking mind. these TRAs don’t have two cells to rub together and then act like I’m the ignorant one by saying “woman means adult human female.” like holy FUCK you’re commenting on a radfem video and getting the beat down you deserve for saying some stupid shit like “you had me until you said women are oppressed on the basis of sex” and I’M the ignorant one for trying to educate you?? I fear these girls are a lost cause and I HATE to see so many of them so brainwashed by this ideology. They don’t have any ideas of their own and they just parrot the same old points they’ve been told to repeat about gender ideology and it’s CRAZY because some of them will admit they agree with some of the radfem points I explain to them but that “excluding trans women wHo ArE aLsO wOmEn BeCauSe ThEy Say ThEy Are” is not true feminism. STOP CENTERING MEN IN YOUR FEMINISM!!! WAKE UP!!! I’M LOSING MY MIND

[maraeffect]

pt got canceled today bc of technical issues, so i spent the day deep cleaning. let me just say i did SO much that i haven't had the energy or motivation to do in MONTHS. i am so fucking proud of myself ahhhh

[parlerenfleurs]

I'm probably not the only one who blocks blogs who blaze bad original poetry on sight, and I do hope these people find their audience that way, but I wonder how massive the block-of-convenience wave is every time they do this.

[scara-writes]

paramour

Yandere!Cheating Duke X Duchess! Reader X Yandere!Lover Servant

I just want to write a reader who has the same/more power as/to the yandere(s).

The setting is still in the fantasy/manhwa world, medivial, any setting as long it's not modern.

CW: two yandere, rivals, cheating, consent smut, infidelity.

I'm making the darling a little more forward(?), daring, more power or that can go against a yandere. Atleast, that's what the darling thinks. Also, this is not polished like my other stories.[ Forgive me, I'm not good with smuts! I also love y'all comments and your ask/request(will answer them soon!). The Yandere Emperor and Yandere Crown Prince son really outnumbered the yandere Omega. Y'all are crazy for that!]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"Mistress." He murmured. His arms hadn't let go off your waist. It was the first thing your eyes landed on when the sunlight came in to greet a new day from the window balcony. You closed your eyes again to find your way back to sleep again.

Your hands went to trace his back full of scar last night from your nails. You hummed when he gave you a pepper kisses on your exposed skin.

"Morning." He gave you one last kiss on your lips before snuggling between your chest. His arms hadn't move around your waist since last night."Mmmh..morning..." You muttered looking away—eyes still close—from the sun when it kissed your face.

"Do you want me to call the maids to serve you breakfast?" His sweet voice lull to sleep more. You whispered no. Last night, this man gave you something akin to that of heaven, something your husband never gave you.

Last night, you made love with this man. The same man you rescued from the human trafficking, kidnapping commoner from the outskirts of the kingdom. Now, indebted by your kindness he devout himself to you with his life.

You groaned, feeling your body is aching all over. This goes not unnoticed by your lover."Did I hurt you to bad?" He asked. His earth orbs are gleaming with shine and now getting filled with tears. "I-I'm sorry, I was rough with you mistress." His voice full of regret and loathe on himself.

You opened your eyes, ruffling his curly brown hair before stroking it. Staring down at his eyes. "No. You did good." You smiled at him, cupping his face, before kissing him in the lips. He whimpered,deepening his into yours.

The intoxication of alcohol must have taken over you. Drowning yourself from the alcohol beverages after your husband didn't arrive on the scheduled date, you waited for him for a whole day to arrive. Alone in the gazebo, Everett was the one who went to your weeping figure. That was a month ago. Everett offered himself to shower you with his love. At first you feel reluctant about this, you will never be the type of person to use someone just so you can feel yourself happy. Everett didn't care about it whether you use him or not. He wanted to prove himself that you are worth to be love. This man made your heart flutter in a way that your husband once gave you before the marriage.

"I-I love what happened last night, my mistress." He whispered bashfully, his pretty swollen lower lip,you bitten hard last night, went to reach his eyes giving you a wide smile. The sun kissed his tan face adding a charming look. His neck has full of bites and bruises from you. His cheeks become a little darker shade from blushing, he must have reminisced something last night.

Now, you made him your lover. Though not completely in love with Everett. You also shower him with items or materials that most commoners would love to have but it doesn't seem like this man is materialistic. He just wants you.

You didn't hide Everett to your husband.

What's the use of hiding your fling to Theodore when he was the first one to cheat on this marriage?

Despite being loyal to that man you loved. He had the audacity to tell you that you shouldn't pry on his private his life after you confronted him with a newly hired maid going out. "Our marriage contract states that the two parties should not meddle one another's private life else this contract shall be annuled."

So all of his flexing his love for you was nothing but a hoax? A show? A lure for you to agree to marry him?

Though, your marriage with him was for the politcial marriage. You once fell in love with Theodore. The same man who gave you flowers everytime you two date, the same man who kissed in your cheeks after he walk you home, the same man who always writes poems about his devotion to you. Did he pursuade you to continue this marriage by making you love him so that the two duchy became one? It may seem like you wanted this marriage at first. You didn't, your family wanted it and they have asked you—no annoyingly, they plead you to marry him, because your parents and his parents signed a contract that their children will reunite the two duchy.

"Your ladyship, the duke asked for your audience to join him in the breakfast." Your butler from the other side of your room, outside the door, knocked and speaks after. You frown upon hearing it, looking at the closed door, what does he want?

You feel strange about your husband nowadays. He had been asking for your presence this past few days. Never once he called for you after your wedding with him.

You clicked your tongue and turn to look at your lover. You notice Everett's face was frowning too. "Tell the duke that I will be there in a moment." You announced to the butler outside the room expecting the old man to gear you through it. You look back at the man leaning his weight on you. You tap the curly haired lover to let you go from his hold yet he didn't budge after moving yourself to sit up instead you heard yourself going 'oomfh!' and finding your lips were on his again. You groaned while he moaned weakly. He pushed you down on the bed, his lips never leaving yours until you were out of breath. A string of saliva trailed between your mouths. Everett was smiling before diving his lips into your skin, to one of your chest, fondling the other. You feel a little ticklish and panting at his stimulation. "Eve—! Wait! Ah..." Your voices went unheard, The male's mewling, sucking on to your flesh like thirsty man who hadn't had a drink.

Your hand went to tug his hair as you moaned out his name. "Shi—Eve... Oh! S-stop... Ah.."

His other hand goes to put one of legs above his back and parted the other leg, accessing himself between you even more."m-mistress!"

You groaned when you felt him grind between you. He looked at you with a pleading eyes, he look like he will cry again, the tears filling up yo the side from his eyes. "M-mistress." He whined his mouth was already in another mound. You feel his hardness between. "p-please? I'll be good! Please... huff..I'll make y-you feel good!"

Your eyes are hazy from the pleasure. "You want.. hah... it?" His eyes getting filled again with tears. You tug him by the hair not enough to hurt him. You landed your lips on his ears. Panting and breathless when you felt his hands is still fondling your body. "You got..ngh... to earn it, pretty boy." You murmurs made him whimpered. "You have to be my good boy... Are you my good boy?"

He nod, a tear fell down to his cheeks, he leaned down to your lips, murmuring, i-am-your-good-boys, thank-yous and I-love-yous.

The room filled with noises that could make anyone flustered and uncomfortable. You didn't realize from your high you are feeling that the butler is coughing uncomfortably behind the door excusing himself as he will inform the duke what you told him earlier.

You went down the stairs with a difficulty, aching between your thighs. You can't find any dress to cover the one hickey on your neck, Everett apologize and helped you cover it with a foundation but it failed horribly from covering seeing that the foundation wasn't blend well and you do not want your maids do it for you. Not when you found out that almost all of them had already been with your husband. You were planning to replace them sooner.

You stopped at the closed door leading to the dinning room. The butler from earlier straightened his posture, clearing his throat after he saw you. He announced your presence behind the door opening the door for you."My lord, your ladyship is here."

You walked in after thanking one of the male servant for pushing the seat for you once you sit across the lord of the household, your husband, the Duke.

The breakfast before you was served cold. If you have arrived earlier you could have eaten warm. You glance at your husband, surprised that his plate has not been finished and it looked like he didn't touched it. You noticed his eyes is trained on to you since you came in, yet his eyes isn't on you but to your neck and the way you walk earlier.

His grey eyes seemed to be narrowing, he scoffed. "You're late."

You glance away, picking one of the utensil, stabbing the meat, landing it to your mouth chewing it. You gulped it down before taking another bite. The marinated pork seems to be delicious even if the breakfast a little no warm.

"It seems you are enjoying with your toy a little too much." He added, there was anger rising beneath his voice.

Oh, the egg is a little bland but it is still edible nonetheless.

"There are more new reports about your speculated infidelity to the public. Do you know that?"

You looked at him after eating the last piece of the sunny side egg, smiling: finally acknowledging his presence."Yeah, what about it? It's not like it will ruin our marriage. After all, you had a numerous of headlines about your 'rumored' infidelity too. Did our contractwas nulled after that? It didn't right?"

"(Y/n)."

"Yes, husband?"

His eyes widened a little before going back on giving you death gaze. "Kick that slave away. I don't like him." He demanded. Though he wasn't shouting. You frowned, how dare he?

"Why would I? It's my decision whether I choose to throw him out or not."

"I do not want him near my property." He complained, gritting his teeth at the last word.

"This is my property as well!" You sternly answered back. Not leaving another room for an argument.

There was silence between the room.

"... I... don't want him near you." You heard him. You blinked at the sudden word that blurted in his mouth.

You scoff standing up, "I think I should finish my meal somewhere..." You starts walking back to where you enter the room.

"(Y/n)." Theodore called you. You didn't observe the way his eyes longed for you. You were focus on the anger within you. "Are we forgetting something, Theodore?" You questioned.

He pondered, those orb you used to love held a confusion.

"Meddling into your partner's private life will annul this marriage... Wasn't that written in our contract?" You bitterly told him. "Sounds familiar right? Do not dare demand me to throw away Everett." You added.

Finally waiting for this moment for this to happen. Guess he will get to taste his own medicine.

"... As long as we do our part in this household we will act as husband and wife. Is not that what you told me?"

"..."

"Now then, I will excuse myself. I have no longer desire to finish my breakfast here." With that, you leave him there.

When you reach the door, opening it, you were surprise to see Everett waiting outside. "What are you doing here?" You asked him. Your frowned face was replaced with a confusion look before giving him a small smile. The man infront of you return your smile with a small grin, placing one of his arm on your waist."W-well, I feel bored and alone in my own room. So I found myself waiting here w-with the butler. Besides I saw you walking wobbly earlier and I-I am concerned that you might have even more difficulty walking... So f-forgive me for not staying put." The look concern on his face adding the pout from his lips made him look cute.

"What are you a puppy?"You poke his nose giggling as you walk away with him, your eyes went back to talk to the butler. Telling him you want to continue your breakfast at your garden, asking him to make it for a two people. The butler bowing to your order before going to the kitchen area to order the maid.

Your husband on the other hand, loath with rage and jealousy mixing under his eyes. His eyes narrowed especially when the slave you brought in leaned on top of your head kissing at the crown part of your head, leaning to your ear to whisper something akin to sweet talks. The arm around your waist went to rub your back.

If only you glance again on Everett's face. You would have caught him giving your husband a smug smirk.

[joelscurls]

best kept secret

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 6.7k

summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3

Joel’s bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dad’s house across the street.

It’s gorgeous — breathtaking, even — maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually seen the crest of morning. You’re far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it,  never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.

You don’t mind the early wakeup call, though, not when it’s this: Joel’s head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.

He’s humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.

“C’mon baby,” he purrs. “Just gimme one before you go.”

They’re the first words he’s said all morning, the first thought that’s necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core. 

Even so, despite how badly you want to — because you always want Joel’s mouth on you — you’re not sure you can. 

Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.

Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Miller’s house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterday’s clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.

But with another experimental flick of Joel’s tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.

Just one, you tell yourself, and then you’ll head out.

“Fuck, okay — yeah,” you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.

With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again — with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another.  

He’s so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like they’re made of paper. It’s a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.

You’re still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.

Because you’re insatiable when it comes to Joel. 

For the past few weeks, since the first time you’d found yourself in his bed, you’ve craved him. Regardless of how sated he’s left you each and every time, you’ve needed more. 

It’s dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dad’s best-friend. But you’re finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other man’s cock ever has. 

That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit — It’s overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.

He’s bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. It’s like he doesn’t want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as it’ll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.

But it’s going to end soon; it’s inevitable with the way he’s laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and you’re powerless to stave it off any longer.

“Joel,” you warn, his name a high-pitched whine. 

“Shh, I know babygirl; it’s okay.” 

Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”

The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.

Joel talks you through it: that’s it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you can’t help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.

“Okay?” he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.

“Yeah,” you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. “More than okay.”

He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.

“Good,” he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him — a little sweet, a little bitter — and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. “Did so good, angel.” 

You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.

“I don’t want you to either, darlin’. But you can come back tonight, yeah?”

Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But it’ll have to do. 

“Tonight,” you repeat. Solidify it. 

You slink home just as the street lights dim.

The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.

You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then you’re tiptoeing past your father’s room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.

You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.

The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dad’s alarm on the other side of the wall.

By the time you’ve dressed and made your way downstairs, he’s already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you. 

Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug — your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.

God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he yawns. Turns to face you. “You were up early. Heard the shower going.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.

“Something on your mind?”

Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. There’s no way he knows — you’ve been far too careful. Still, you’re on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.

“Uh, n-no,” you stutter. “Just work stuff, I guess.”

He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, “Just gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, it’s your first job out of school. They don’t expect you to know it all right away.”

It’s good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if you’re absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isn’t preoccupied.

You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.

The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-

-there’s a knock at the door.

Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?

And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.

“Oh, buddy — hey! Come on in,” your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.

Joel is dressed — blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.

The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.

He’s a different Joel here, now — your father’s friend, your neighbor — not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length. 

No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasn’t tasted his friend’s daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.

You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay. 

Easier said than done. It’s as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.

His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.

“Yeah, I uh — I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopin’ you might have some to spare?”

He can’t be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldn’t get some on the road?

“I’m afraid she took the last of it,” your dad’s eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joel’s gaze when his follow.

“Ahh,” he says. “‘ts okay. I’ll grab some on my way in.” 

His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like there’s something else. Another reason he came here.

And then you spot it — your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joel’s back pocket. 

You must’ve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as he’d kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.

Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink. 

Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.

Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, “I gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.”

Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. You’re pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale. 

“You know Deb, right, honey?” he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dad’s coworkers. 

There’s Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese you’ve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadn’t shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week. 

This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Lou’s. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.

But Deb? You don’t recall a Deb. Still, you’re pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context. 

You shake your head, no. 

“Well, I guess you haven’t seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.”

“When I was ten?” you retort. 

“Yeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?”

You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. “Anyway, Deb – she’s around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and she’s a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.”

“Is that so?” Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“You’ll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, when’s the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since – what was her name — Jean? And if things were going well with her, I’d hope you’d tell your old friend.” The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer.  

“No, I ain’t seeing Jean,” Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.

“Well, you gotta get back out there!” 

Joel’s gaze rolls to the ceiling. “I don’t know – I’m just not real interested in datin’ right now.”

You exhale, then — a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed — unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch. 

I’ve known this woman for years Joel, I’m telling you, the two of you’d be the perfect match; she’s a looker too, real pretty.

Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.

Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.

“No, I know,” Joel grumbles. “I trust your judgment ‘n all, ‘ts just-”

“Will you just give her a chance?”

“Jesus; fine.”

The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.

Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.

He’s quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that it’s beginning to bleed through. 

“Atta boy,” he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket. 

“Promise you’ll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know you’re not gonna make me look bad here.”

Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already. But he’s refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll call her tonight,” he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips. 

He’s actually agreeing to this?

You need to get out of here before you say something rash.

The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder. 

Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.

The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late. 

The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your boss’s door.

It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dad’s words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.

The thing is — you can’t blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.

Maybe he’d be happier with Deb. 

They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street  hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.

Because that’s what this is, you and Joel — it’s wrong. Not like you weren’t already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman you’ve never met to rub it in.

The day passes infuriatingly slow.

The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time you’re due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.

“Sorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than I’d hoped,” you lie. But you can tell she doesn’t buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.

“I need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.”

“Of course,” you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. “I’ll get them done and on your desk by Friday.”

“Thanks.” Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.

You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as she’s out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joel’s number is already dialed on your phone.

He picks up after two rings.

“Darlin’ — are you okay?”

It’s admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when you’ve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.

But this can’t wait. It’s been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you don’t talk to him about it, you’re going to end up unemployed. You don’t bother to ask if he’s still on the job site, around other people. “You’re going on this date.” It’s not a question. More of an accusation.

“Baby,” he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest. 

“Why didn’t you say no?” 

“How could I?” he groans. “There’s your dad, askin’ me if I’m seein’ someone, sayin’ he’s already told this lady about me – what am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice comes out a whine. “Make something up. Tell him you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”

He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. “Yeah, baby. Think he’d believe that one, f’sure.”

“Fuck,” you huff. “I just— I don’t-“

You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you aren’t dating. You don’t have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you don’t want that, no. You just want him to choose you.

“I don’t wanna go, darlin’. I really don’t. But if I do this, I think it’ll get him off my back for a while. He won’t have a reason to suspect that I’m foolin’ around with his daughter.”

Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.

It’s not exactly a lie. You haven’t put a label on this thing, whatever it is. It’s been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation — as if you haven’t been driven by overwhelming desire — makes your stomach churn.

Joel doesn’t seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. “It’s for the best,” he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor. 

“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. “For the best.”

He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. You’re not sure that you believe him.

The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.

You dodge Joel’s calls for the remainder of the week.

There’s no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.

Even so, it doesn’t stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.

He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You can’t. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. You’ll break; you know you will.

So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.

But you still ache for him — a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin. 

It’s a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.

On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. He’s grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.

“Joel and Deb’s date is tomorrow,” he says. “Think they’ll really hit it off, don’t you?”

You’re dumbfounded for a long moment — can’t believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your father’s fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.

“Oh! I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember Deb.” You can’t help your condescending tone. Your dad doesn’t seem to catch it anyway. 

“Well,” he says, “I think they’ll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately — maybe if he has a lady, he’ll get out more!”

“You sound real excited,” you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.

“It is exciting. I’ve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place they’re going to — the Tavern — it’s got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-“

“Dad,” you stop him. You think you’ll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. “Sorry, I just — I’m really tired, all of a sudden. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”

It’s not a complete lie. You’re emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.

Your dad doesn’t question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.

Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern. 

Not that you’re planning to go there anytime soon — you’re just curious. That’s all. 

Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait. 

You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.

This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst you’ve had in a while.

You jot the address down anyway.

Downtown Austin is buzzing with life. 

Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons – it almost distracts you from the task at hand. 

At just past seven, you’d told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. He’d been a bit taken aback, seeing as you’re not very social these days, but he’d seemed happy. Relieved. 

That’s not what you’re doing, of course.

No – in reality, you’re turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. It’s packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joel’s truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.

It’s idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew he’d be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped he’d stand Deb up. 

You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do — storm inside and demand that he leave with you?

You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.

From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurant’s entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.

Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face — the same one you’ve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.

And you’re here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.

Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time they’ll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, you’re convinced that they’re going to close the place out.

But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb. 

She’s talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. It’s undeniable that she’s stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.

She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.

You wonder if he’ll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If they’ll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once he’s helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.

But he doesn’t lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers. 

He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that he’ll call — and he will, first thing tomorrow. He’s probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday. 

Maybe he knows, after just one date, that she’s his soulmate. He’ll buy the ring in a couple weeks. They’ll be engaged in a month’s time, and he’ll say he just couldn’t wait any longer. 

She’s the one thing I’ve been missing.

You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.

And then — he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.

He’s staring directly through the windshield. At you.

Fuck.

He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.

With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side. 

He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down. 

The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.

“You wanna fuckin’ explain what you’re doin’ here?” he snaps. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.

You know you’re in the wrong. You shouldn’t have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?

When your gaze finally meets his, he looks — distraught — jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I just wanted to see how you were with her.” And it’s the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but it’s the truth nonetheless.

“Doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”

“So what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, I’m sorry,” you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, “the guy I was fooling around with.”

This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.

“It wasn’t like that,” he grits

“No? Isn’t that all this was to you: fooling around?”

There’s a beat. Joel sighs. 

“No — fuck, no. Of course not.”

His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. “I tried callin’ you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” you admit.

He nods. Another beat.

“Did you kiss her?” you ask.

“No.” He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now. 

Your mouth goes dry.

“No?”

“No,” he repeats. “I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“You don’t want her?” 

“No,” he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. “I don’t want her.” 

“Why not?” 

He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face — warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.

“I don’t want her,” he says, voice an octave lower, “because I want you. I thought you knew that?” 

The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.

“You want me?” you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. “Prove it.”

Joel doesn’t hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.

It’s sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He’s groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can’t get close enough, as if he’ll only be satisfied once he’s swallowed you whole. You’re pretty sure you want him to.

Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat. 

And then he’s back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw. 

Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. You’ve missed this, god, you’ve missed this — but it’s still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt — you’re not picky. Just need him in whatever way he’ll provide.

“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep. 

He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks through labored breaths. 

“Need you — please.”

He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs. 

Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.

Your breath catches. 

You know what he’s really asking: are you going to  let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?

But you don’t care. In fact, you’re way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take what’s his.

You nod frantically. “Yes,” you pant. “Please.”

Joel nods too, as if he’s accepting his fate. He’s going to fuck his friend’s daughter in the passenger seat of her car. There’s no way around it — not when you’re begging for it. He’s going to give you what you need.

“Okay,” he soothes, “I got you baby.” 

He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.

He doesn’t bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then you’re pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.

You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. “Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Take it; it’s yours.”

His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist. 

You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. He’s so thick, stretching you like it’s the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.

“Fuck,” Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.

“Gotta move baby — please move.”

He’s so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.

Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You can’t suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.

Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. He’s relentlessly hitting that spot — the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life. 

It’s approaching too quickly; he’s going to make you come.

One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry it’ll pop. 

Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.

“Oh f— ahh, oh my—“

“That’s it,” he coos, “you got it, babygirl.”

His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. You’re wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.

His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.

“Cmon, baby,” you goad, “please fill me up.”

He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You don’t move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like he’s afraid to let you go.

You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.

You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You don’t have the energy to care.

Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joel’s chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.

“Joel,” you say.

He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.

“Yeah?” He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“About wanting me.” In truth, you’re not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. You’re done sharing him.

“Oh, baby,” he drawls. “Of course I do. You’re all I want. Do you want me?”

And it’s a stupid question. He has to know that. You’re nodding before he can even finish it. “Yes,” you breathe. “I want you, Joel”

“Then it’s settled. It’s me and you. No more…interlopers.”

You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driver’s seat with achy legs.

You’ve never felt more content than you do in this moment.

Still, you’ll have to hide — won’t be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad — and neither will Joel. 

You don’t care much, not as long as he’s yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.

“Joel,” you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind…being a secret? Don’t mind keeping me a secret?”

He looks at you like you have two heads.

He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure you’re listening.

“I want you — doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t know. Long as you’re mine.”

Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.

“I’m yours?”

He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning. 

It all feels somehow sweeter, now.

“Yeah, angel. You’re mine. My girl.”

end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.

Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)

tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673

[berry-potchy]

Dad's Best Friend!Miguel O'Hara blurb because I'm obsessed

UPDATE: Part 2

I love the DBF!Miguel O'Hara scenarios that have you sneaking around and fucking while your family is around and unaware BUT consider:

DBF!Miguel O'Hara who offered to let you stay at his place when you moved out for college. You don't have to worry about rent or anything because he'll take care of everything. He'll take care of you.

It all seemed so good and innocent at the start. You even got to have the place to yourself most of the days because of his demanding job. Miguel said you can bring your friends over but no romantic partners or flings allowed. Not that you had anyone in that way when you're so busy yearning for Miguel. You've had a crush on him since forever and every time you tried to get into a relationship or have sex with anyone, anyone your age, your mind always compared them to Miguel. For the longest time you were hopelessly yearning, convinced that he'd never return your feelings until one night.

You were lying in bed trying to catch your breath after fucking your pussy raw with your vibrator thinking about how hot Miguel looked that morning in his nice suit, ready for an important business meeting he had. You were about to fall asleep when you felt the bed dip and suddenly Miguel was pulling you close to him, your back against his chest. Your bare ass still wet from your own slick, flushed against his erection and the only barrier that separated you was the same sexy suit you had been fantasizing about. He was so big, he felt bigger than how you imagined him and your cunt throbbed, seemingly ready to be used and abused again.

He kissed your neck, licking and sucking, marking you as his while murmuring how long he had been wanting to do this. He heard you moaning his name when you thought he was going to come home late and he immediately called in his office to tell them he's taking a sick leave. He's going to spend that time fucking you, on every surface in the house, making up for all those times you teased him in the mornings just walking around in an oversized shirt and no bra. You didn't even wear shorts around him, gave him a show of your cute ass, trying to reach mugs from the high kitchen shelves. He had to go shamefully jerk off in his car just so he didn't have to go to work with a very obvious boner. How'd he explain that to your dad when he inevitably bumped into him in the office? His precious little daughter living under the same roof as this pervert?

Hearing you moan his name while you fucked your slutty cunt was the last straw, all his self restraint went out the window. He took your vibrator from your hand and let it overstimulate your swollen clit but immediately take it away when he feels you almost going over the edge. You whine and beg him to let you cum but he just laughs. He promised you'll cum plenty of times, more than you can handle.

Of course he eats your pretty pussy out and fuck you all night in so many different ways, in positions you never even heard of. Your pussy was swollen and oversensitive, and you're pretty sure your cervix is deliciously bruised. Miguel kisses your pussy as an apology but gets distracted and tongue fucks you and makes you cum again.

You slowed down some time in the morning. Miguel made you breakfast but soon enough you found yourself bent over the kitchen counter getting railed again. You don't know how this man had that much stamina at his age. You were getting close to cumming when you heard your phone ring. Your dad was calling you. You helplessly looked back at Miguel, expecting him to stop so you can pick up the call but he didn't stop and clicked the answer button for you. Your dad happily greets you over the phone wondering how you're doing and you tried to keep your voice steady and told him everything's good and uni was going great. Miguel leaned over, pressing his chest on your back and driving his cock deeper and harder into you. It took everything in you not to cry in pleasure and you wondered if your dad can hear the erotic sounds of Miguel's cock abusing your sopping wet hole and his balls slapping your aching clit.

Your dad told you he heard Miguel was taking a sick leave which he has never done befor. He was convinced that he must be really sick for that workaholic to finally take a break so he asked you to take care of his best friend for him. You told him not to worry because you were taking really good care of him.

[lnfours]

august | l.n

summary: you were never mine ; aka the one where the summer fling comes crashing down, but after an unexpected face in the media pen, lando is left questioning why he ever left.

warnings: pretend lando got a later start in formula one, summer flings, slight brothers best friend!lando, reader ends up working in the industry, kinda second chance romance vibes, fluff, hints of angst if you squint, and mentions of sexual content. i had to cut this short because it was getting super long, so if you want a part two to this make sure to let me know :) anyways, happy august, my loves 🤍 may your air be salty and the rust be on your doors.

listen | masterlist

summer: your favorite time of the year. where you’d spend your days outside, salt heavy in the air and the cool ocean breeze whisking away all your problems. your few months of peace where nothing else in the world mattered more than sitting on the beach by the ocean during the day and sitting by the cozy bonfire after the sun had finally set.

peaceful, until you had met him.

getting swept off your feet by the boy your brother had befriended was the last thing on your mind. but nonetheless, you had. his charming smile with cute dimples had you head over heels. moles charting his skin like constellations making him so much prettier. you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t breathtaking, laying on the lounge chair with his curls sitting almost perfectly against his forehead. so unaware at how your eyes danced over his figure behind your sunglasses.

a perfect example of beautiful chaos.

him and his siblings had gotten close to you and your brother, thankful for there to be people their age in the small costal town to befriend. you mostly kept to yourself and his sisters in efforts to push the crush you had quickly developed down. not wanting to start something that could never be finished. not wanting to put your heart on the line just for something to yank him from your grasps.

but after a week or so, you had caved in. getting to know him better every day. he had told you about his life back home, how he was a racer. wanting to make it to formula one, race amongst legends. you had told him about your studies in university, wanting to pursue journalism and things of that nature.

he listened with interest. being the only person who sounded interested in you talking about it, not like the others who had given quick responses when you had told them before. a change that brought a smile to your face and warmed your heart because he actually cared.

he had you opening up to him like a book, wanting nothing more than to understand the beautiful soul that stood in front of him. shared laughs and talks in the kitchen of your family’s vacation home echoing off the walls. sharing your deepest secrets, sharing stories about your youth that normally, you’d cringe about, but he found adorable.

and the two of you got closer, a bond forming between you. lingering glances and touches sending sparks through your bodies. and talks in the kitchen turned into conversations by the fire pit on nights where it’d just be the two of you. weeks of learning about each other. the weeks passed by quickly, and after the first month out of three he had known you like the back of his hand. and you had known everything there was to know about lando norris.

after a couple more weeks of subtle flirting and lingering glances, he had finally grown the courage to ask you what had been prodding at him since the moment he met you.

“can i take you out sometime?”

and like that, all your previous statements about not getting too attached, not wanting something for the sake of it being yanked away, was out the window. you met his green eyes, sparkling in the glow of the bonfire in front of you, a smile on your face as you spoke.

“sure.”

he pulled out all the stops. making reservations for the fancy restaurant downtown and bringing you flowers that had caught his eye in the shop window on the way back from his morning jog. a gesture that made you smile ear to ear and your heart beat quicken. a gesture that made you feel truly loved.

the first date turned into many more. wether it was getting dinner or ice cream in town, or heading towards the beach at sundown to watch the waves crash against the shore. the weeks carried on and you had dinner with his family, all of them ecstatic that he had found someone like you who loved their son the way they did.

you still remembered the day he had written against your skin. your stomach flat against the towel on the sand, back facing the sun that was slowly being swallowed by the ocean as the moon threatened to shine. he was propped up on his elbow, tracing shapes into your skin.

he drew with his fingers and you laughed softly, humming, “hmm, a star?”

he nodded, voice soft as he spoke again, “okay, i have one more. they’re words this time. ready?”

you hummed in approval, his index finger drawing a straight line against your spine.

i.

“i,” you said.

he nodded, writing out the next word.

love.

you furrowed your eyebrows as he drew the ‘e’, “love?”

“yeah,” he said, “last word, put them together.”

your heart squeezed against your chest as he wrote out the final word.

you.

you sat up, meeting his eyes, “you?”

he nodded again, smiling as he tucked the lose strand of hair away from your face.

“i love you.” it sounded heavenly coming from his lips.

you blinked at him, a smile finding its way to your lips, “i love you, too.”

you had pulled him closer by his neck, pressing your lips to his. his hand cupping your cheek, the two of you breaking away when the smiles had taken over your face, too wide to continue the kiss.

“c’mon,” you smiled, getting up from the towel. he followed your lead with a questioning look as you grabbed your bag, throwing it over your shoulder as the other hand grabbed your sandals. taking off towards the private entrance to the beach the lovely vacation home had come with.

“where’re you going?” he laughed, following you anyway. chasing after you with the towel in his hand.

“come find out!”

and he did, following you back up to the house. once he caught up, you were inside and up the stairs. you shut the door behind him, pulling him closer to you as your back pressed against the white wooden door.

“what’re you up to?” he smirked, letting your hands snake around his neck as his found their home on your hips.

“well, no one’s gonna be back for another couple hours,” you trailed on. he smiled, shaking his head.

“absolute minx.”

you smiled, reaching up and pressing your lips against his. he had immediately taken control, his hands moving to the back of your thighs before you understood that he wanted you to jump. he caught you with ease, never letting his lips leave yours as your legs wrapped around his torso, walking back towards your bed before he laid you down carefully.

you smiled as he climbed over you, leaving kisses against the exposed skin of your tummy in his path before his face met yours again, nose brushing against yours, “i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

your hands roamed the skin of his back as his squeezed your hips before he pulled away, breathless.

“you’re sure?” he asked softly, “i don’t want this to be something you regret.”

you nodded, reaching behind you and pulling at the ties of your bikini top, tossing it to the side. he watched you with love filled eyes, mouth agape as your head hit the pillows again. a hand coming to rest against his cheek.

“i’m sure,” you smiled, “i love you, lando.”

and after that, you’d often find yourself twisted in your bedsheets with him. your head against his bare chest as your nails drew shapes into his skin. his lips leaving soft kisses to your hairline.

after one specific night, you had fallen asleep against him when he got the call. softly moving you to your side of the bed before walking towards the connected bathroom. the call he had been desperately waiting for.

it was finally his moment. he was making it big.

“can you be here monday?”

he glanced down at the date on his phone. it was two days from now. he’d never make it unless he left now.

he glanced back into the bedroom where your sleeping figure laid, head resting against the pillow as you slept peacefully. he swallowed, immediately feeling guilty. he should wake you up.

“lando?”

“hmm?” he quickly snapped back to the phone call, “sorry, uhm, you said monday?”

“yeah, just to sign some things. do some press, show you around, that sort of thing.”

he took a deep breath, “okay, yeah. sure, sounds good. i’ll see you monday.”

“see you monday,” zak brown’s voice was warm on the other end, “safe travels.”

lando pressed the red button with shaky hands, shoving his phone into the pockets of his sweatpants as he walked back into the bedroom. he grabbed his hoodie off the end of the bed, immediately feeling regret as he looked over your peaceful state. how you were unaware that he was about to leave and never come back.

and with a gentle kiss to your forehead and a mumbled, “i love you,” to your hair, he walked out of the room. walked right out of your life just as quick as he had entered it.

when you woke up the next morning confused that he was no longer with you in your bed. you tried to call, but no answer. you were met with silence. even in your texts you were met with the ‘delivered’ at the bottom of each one. tears flowing down your cheeks as you were left wondering what you had done for him to disappear. to pretend like you were never a thing.

it wasn’t until the fall that you had seen his face again. this time on an instagram post from mclaren. announcing him as a full time driver. he wore a smile, the same floppy curls you had loved, were still messy. hitting against his forehead. he had finally got what he wanted.

and the years went on, you continued to see him pop up every so often. celebrating podium placements and achievements, finally living the life he wanted. the life he had suddenly chose that no longer included you.

he had checked in on you every so often, too. smiling softly when your face popped up on his screen as he’d scroll through your account. you had the life you wanted too, graduating from university and smiling at the camera as you held your diploma. the hard work you had put in finally paying off and meaning something.

he lost track at the amount of messages he had typed out and deleted in your dms. lost track of all the times he had wished he had told you, lost track of the different outcomes he had came up where the ending had you in it. even after convincing himself you were better off out of this lifestyle, he couldn’t help but wish you were.

the knocking on his drivers room had pulled him out of his thoughts, swiping out of your instagram account as the woman smiled sweetly in the doorway.

“they want you for media.”

he nodded, tossing his phone to the couch, tying the papaya race suit around his waist and slipping the mclaren cap back onto his curls, sporting it backwards as he followed the woman down the hallway.

“where’s oscar?”

“he’s already there,” she said sweetly, “hasn’t been there long, though. only a few minutes.”

he nodded, smiling politely at the woman before entering the media pen. she guided him to the opening, smiling before stepping to the side. he took a sip from his water bottle, smiling at the camera man who tapped your shoulder to get your attention. an apologetic smile on your face as you spoke, turning towards the fence, “sorry-“

the same green eyes met yours and the both of you stood in shock for a moment. sure, you had known you were going to bump into him eventually, but on your first day? was the media pen really lacking that many reporters?

“y/n?” he asked, voice soft as your heart hit the floor.

you swallowed, gripping your notepad a little harder as you sent him a tight lipped smile, “hi,”

“since when do you,” he stammered, tripping over his own words before taking a breath, “since when do you work for sky?”

“todays my first day, actually,” you said, a nervous smile on your face, and if he noticed, he thankfully didn’t mention it, “i see mclaren’s been treating you well.”

“y/n, can we-“

“let’s get started, yeah?” you dodged his question, glancing down at your notebook. he nodded softly in response and you motioned for your camera man to begin recording.

as you stood there asking him questions about his race, all he could think about was if you had wondered the same things he did. if you, too, laid awake at night and thought about all the different scenarios and lifetimes where the two of you ended up together. he wondered if you hated him for how he left you, without a proper goodbye.

he didn’t know it, but you could never hate him. even after all these years you couldn’t hate him with a single bone in your body. not when your heart still beats for him.

he opened his mouth to speak after you ended the interview, but it shut quickly as the woman in papaya cut off his thoughts, whisking him away to do more interviews. you watched as he left, a sad and regretful look on his face as he made his way to the next reporter.

“you alright?” your camera man asked, noticing how you chewed on your bottom lip. a nervous tick of yours that everyone seemed to have caught onto.

you nodded, straightening your posture and taking a deep breath, pushing every thought you had to the side berore smiling at the man next to you, “yep, who do we have next?”

[kisspurins]

hold me tight 𓍯𓂃 𓏧 ♡

୨୧ pairings｜bestfriend! anton x reader

୨୧ wc｜3.3k

୨୧ warnings｜smut with plot，dubcon，mentions drinking，mouth fucking with fingers，spit play (kinda)，size kink，frat boy!anton，fat cock anton，unprotected sex，tongue kissing，thigh riding，praising，crying，dumbification，breeding

you didn't think much of it when anton invited you to his frats house party.

you've known anton since freshman year when you were taller than him and he had a buzz cut from a stupid dare he followed through with the day before school started back. he'd been someone you always took the role of protecting before he grew into his looks and puberty hit him mid sophomore year and suddenly he was towering over you instead. anton has always been sweet but after he joined swimming and left your social circle, slowly that facade became apart of him only you knew and thats what kept you close.

so there was no surprise when he showed up to your dorm room asking if you wanted to be his plus one to his frats yearly welcoming party.

"please the guys always ask about you!" raising up from your bed you give him a look, brows furrowed, "the guys know about me?" without thinking your best friend was nodding, "yeah I talk about you all the time." his sentence came out rushed and when he realized what he just said he stopped his pacing around your room turning to face you.

"not—" "really? what do you tell them?" you interrupted, big smile spreading your face as he stumbled over his words. anton huffed, cheeks tinted a light red when he looked you in the eye. "are you coming or not?" you shrug twisting the strings dangling on your shorts with your finger. "I'll come but you better not leave me."

you should've known better than to trust anton of all people to stick beside you at a party.

the room was hotter than you expected it to be, even with the windows open to let the night air circulate, there was too many sweaty bodies pressing against each other to cool down the room. sometime in the beginning you had already lost sight of anton to some sorority girl, and unlike him, one thing you aren't interested in is sucking up to some people you know you'll never talk to again after college. the red plasic cup in your hand, your second one, is empty from your nervous sipping, leaving your head cloudy and vision blurry. and the flashing lights made everything 10x worse for your headache, not to mention how impossible it is to find anton like this.

you remember how much you hate being a lightweight while you sloppily stumble through the crowd. you pushed yourself down the hallway, hands pressed into the wall while you made your way further down to antons room. you weren't very familiar with frat parties since you decided against joining in on the weekly mixers after a one night stand you couldn't remember, but you did know your way around antons frat house. hes sneaked you in a couple times while his friends were out claiming "if they saw a pretty girl like you, they would ravage you." and you didn't fight him on it.

you're two seconds away from almost throwing yourself into anton's door when it opens, flinging you to collide against someones hard chest. "I'm soooo sorry!" you gapsed, hands reaching to feel on the person who protected your fall, "I was just about to come find you."

pausing for a moment you look up, giggling when you notice you're feeling up on anton. "there you aree! you got so big tonieee?" "you're drunk already? I barely left you alone."

If you were sober you would've recognized the worry in his voice, but all you can think about now is how sweet it is, like he uses the most gentle tone he has only for you. “Its been half an hour dummy…” you trailed off, "left me alone for that long!"

“I'm sorry angel.”

“It's okayy!"

you catch the "angel" too late. eyes fluttering up at him while you melt into his arms wrapped securely around your waist, hoping he couldn’t tell in the dark entryway how that one word made you feel so gushy.

"gonna take you inside okay?" you nod to his words. there wasn’t much space between you two at all, the tips of your feet only a few inches apart. anton sat you on his bed, running to turn on his lamp instead of the big light because you were already having trouble focusing. across from you, anton leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. It was easy to look at him. he was so enamoring. everything about him was all consuming.

"how many drinks did you have? do you want water to sober you up?"

you shake your head no, leaning back to snuggle up in his bed. "m fine right here." anton doesn't protest, just hums before he's walking up to you and slipping in the empty space next to you. purposely laying on the edge so you can't fall if you were to drunkenly roll over. "can I hold you?" he asks, voice light and clear, "you don't need to say yes if you don't want to right now." you consider, thinking about giggling at anton and wrapping yourself up in his embrace, becoming another one of his easy girls he can cross off a list. but you also think about how you've been friends with anton this long and hes never been a bad guy. how you know for sure he wouldn't hurt you, or use and leave you. "okay but you have to hold me tight."

anton hummed in response again then his strong arms were holding you to his chest. you feel the vibrations from him talking on your back and it's enough that it almost rocked you right to sleep. "what happened to the girl?" you asked, sudden curiosity peaking your interest. "she wanted to get high and have a quick fuck." you peeked over your shoulder when he spoke, his words lingering for a bit. you didn't know what to say to that. sorry? oh cool? you rake your head for something, anything, but anton was already clearing his throat, "I stopped smoking." "oh" "yeah"

you two didn't speak anymore after that. your head stayed drifting from the alcohol and anton just held you like this was natural for him and it probably was. he was so warm you could practically feel the heat radiating off his body making you unbelievably sticky. and maybe the alcohol was making your talk so bold, you spoke without realizing. "can I take off this dress? it's so hot tonie." you whined a little shuffling around. anton pressed his fingers deep into your hips stopping your movements, "will you chill out?" he asked between gritted teeth. "why?" you teased, quickly forgetting all about the stickiness you felt. "gonna pop a boner over this?" you said swiveling your hips making sure to directly press against his crotch more. "you're drunk yn," he hissed, "you don't know the things I'm capable of doing to you."

"what're you gonna do? take advantage of me?" anton’s eyes are dark as he listens to you, hands already working to flip you over. face to face with him now, your confidence slips. "what—what are you doing tonie?" his hands sneak up to cup your face, one of his thumbs caressing across your cheek. "shhh it'll be okay. don't you trust me?" you've never doubted anton.

the thumb caressing your cheek inches its way to your lips and instinctively your mouth drops open for him. "awww, been waiting for me?” you whine when he teases and doesn't press his thumb on your tongue like you wanted. "don't you have manners baby?" you whimper at his words. his voice is so much deeper then you were used to, sharp and assertive. "please tonieee... need your fingers please please?"

anton knows in the morning you'll be scared and confused waking up naked next to him. the thought of your wide teary eyes while you try to remember what you did last night, it turned him on. being able to have you like this was a rare opportunity and what kind of friend would he be not to take care of you when you're begging for him so much?

"you're such a good girl. the sweetest girl ever." your face lights up when anton is sweet, eyes practically sparkling when you stick out your tongue waiting for him.

anton caresses your cheek again, this time pushing his thumb to glide over your top lip knowing you would get more impatient waiting. your mouth is warm and pretty, so delicate hes afraid he'll break you when he presses his thumb on your tongue and you gag just from the touch. his heartbeat is loud in his ears as he watches you resisting the urge to wrap your lips around him. "fuck," he gasps pushing further back and your eyes get watery. "go ahead baby."

immediately you're wrapping your lips around his thumb humming in satisfaction. your tongue swirls around his finger and anton swears he can feel his dick twitching. and just to be mean, he pulls out his finger. you whine in protest, head falling forward a little to chase after him and before you can vocalize your feelings, anton's pushing his index and middle finger back past your pretty lips. he almost forgets theres still a party going on just a few doors down, indecent noises of suction blocking out the faded music in the background.

"you're so perfect," anton breathes out, starting to fuck your mouth open with his fingers. spit starts leaking at the corner of your mouth, dripping onto his wrist. you're so shameless when your mouth is full, eyes closed and hips bucking. anton can't stop himself from commenting. "all this time all i had to do to shut you up was stuff your mouth?" you're too hypnotised by the feel of his fingers going in and out of your mouth to register anything he says.

"come on baby," anton mumbles pulling out his fingers as slow as possible and still you break out into a fit of tears, breathing hard and pulling for his hand again. "wh—what! no! no no tonie please!" "shhh don't have to make this hard." he coos to try to calm you down. It works for a second but then you're crying again shuffling closer to him.

"don't be a crybaby. I promise I'm gonna take care of you, pretty." anton says, hands working down your body to grope your ass. you whine when he squeezes, teary eyes focusing up at him. "not a crybaby! you're just so—" your words get stuck in your throat when he inches your dress up, "mhm?" "so mean." you huff and he laughs, hands gripping your ass again. "always wanted to do this to you.." your thighs clench together when he says that and like he expected it, he was prying them open with this thigh replacing the space himself.

"ton.." you drag out, your hips unconsciously moving slowly on his thigh. anton was quick to catch the hint, lifting his leg up a bit more to give you more friction as you grind harder, your body moving on it’s own as you ramble incoherently. “I know baby, couldn't help yourself. just a dumb little thing huh?" you shake your head no, hands trembling when you reach up to pull his head closer to you. "kiss me please?" you glance from his lips to his eyes, hips starting to stutter when you make eye contact and he licks his lips, "please—please kiss me.." "you sure?" you nod eagerly closing your eyes.

the longer the wait the more your heart races. something about this situation makes you feel desperate and mushy. you've never wanted so bad for someone to kiss you and the fact that its anton makes things harder, you can barely think of anything besides how this feels so intimate. his hands move to brush your hair away from your face softly, a touch that usually doesn't affect you but then he starts tucking your stray hairs behind your ears and your heart is fluttering. he listlessly leans forward, gently pressing his lips onto yours with a light pressure. your heart skips a beat with the realisation that your best friend is kissing you on the lips. you forget all about your achy cunt when kissing him, his lips so soft and pillowy you feel yourself getting dumb.

everything feels like it’s spinning when anton slips his tongue into your mouth, trying to focus on syncing up but its hard when it feels so foreign and it makes you foggy thinking about him tasting the alcohol off your tongue. naturally, you let him take the pace and your mouths get more accustomed to one another and it makes you wonder what was so hard about this at first. the kiss is so slow and overwhelming, tongues twisting together while spit drips from the corner of your mouth. you don't notice when hes pushing himself over you, fingers hooking under the thin strap of your panties.

"knew you wanted this," anton laughed, hand dropping down to cup your cunt. "poor girl is leaking everywhere." you whinced at his words, your knees trying to knock together to squeeze and keep him there. "don't be mean" you can hear anton let out a breath before he's prying your legs open and giving your cunt a little tap. "don't do that anymore." your lip tuts out at his harsh tone. when he gets stern like that its a little scary and you can feel every fiber in your being aching to obey him. blinking up at him, you mumble a little “sorry” and let him touch you.

anton moves slowly, sliding his finger up to your swollen clit and circling it through your panties. there’s an intense amount of heat surging between you two. the way you’re positioned with him, his large frame caging you between the bed and his hand that pushes into you doesn’t help anything. you can feel yourself get more slick the more he puts pressure on your clit. "please.. need more ton,"

he hums, letting his fingers slip under your panties, now directly pressing on your nub. your back arches off the bed waiting for him to do more and he lets you get caught up. "tonie..” you whimper. he looks up from your cunt and hes so pretty your thighs twitch. “mhm?” "take clothes off please? so hot.." as soon as you utter the words, your eyes were trailing to the side, embarrassment settling in your chest.

"you're so smart baby." he says withdrawing his fingers. you stay still in your position, watching his every movement. anton is teasing when he lifts his shirt over his head, arms flexing so much it makes your mouth watery. you try to follow him, fumbling to pull off your dress in a rush while he's taking off his pants. you're moving slower than you thought because when you're done with your dress, anton is moving back in between your legs hands working to slip off your panties. your head is so consumed you just let him manhandle you, eyes fixating on his dick. so girthly and heavy resting on his stomach.

everything moves so fast when hes towering over you again, hand pressing over your tummy while he glides himself up and down your slit.

you always knew anton was big. you've spent so many nights with him, you were used to seeing him in a pair of grey sweats and those leave everything to the imagination. and with the way he talks extra cocky about himself, you had no doubt. but the feeling of his tip pressing to your hole is too much. forcing its way into your snug cunt, you gasp so sweetly, eyes watering while your hole clenches around him. your swollen lips drop into a pretty little "oh!" and he smiles.

“hnng— tonie s’too big! can't!" “you can do it for me, pretty.” his breath is hot against your ear. “I’ll make it fit.”you already feel so cockdrunk, struggling to keep your eyes open as he bullies his fat tip into your sloppy hole. anton's cock twitches so good inside you at the sight. "come on baby, stay with me." he huffs out, too stuck on the way your pussy is spread open so shamefully for him. you moan breathlessly at each push, pussy squelching while he splits you apart. you can't help but to try and squirm away. "ton... too much—" you whimpered, "really can't— ah! ah ah!" anton breaks you off, big arms wrapping around your hips so you can’t run from him. you squeal when he traps you and then he's pulling you down down down onto his thick cock.

“see pretty," he groans, bottoming out in one swift thrust "could take all of me. don't know what you're talking about." your head shakes no, the strech is enough to break you but anton's not stopping till he’s buried in your dripping cunt all the way to the hilt. you can't think. you don't even realize your tongue is sticking out until he pulls out and leans down to suck on it when he pushes back in, his balls smacking against your ass in the process. you're so overwhelmingly full of him, you can't kiss back. letting him suck n pull on the muscle.

drool drips delicately down your mouth at how animalistically he was treating your mouth. no longer sweet and gentle but instead gross and rough. pulling away from you, he smirks as he begins to pull out inch by inch agonizingly slow. "pussy belongs to me now." he hums, cock ramming into you.

the pace he starts up is numbing and makes you delirious. “oh! oh my— oh my god! nnng please!”you can do nothing but lay there and take it as anton edges you closer and closer to cumming. “gonna fill you up.” he whispers, voice raw and dripping with desperation. "need to make you mine. like that pretty? wanna be my girlfriend?" you nod eagerly, "already— already yours t—tonie!" that spurs him on. he increases his pace impossibly, so rough your skin is stinging where his balls smack your ass, fucked out little "ah! ah! ah!" leaving your lips each time his hips hit yours.  "fuck you're so cute,” he trails off dangerously, gaze unfocusing on the creamy white ring forming around his base to look in your eyes, “need you like this forever..”

“yes yes yes, please! forever please please!” hes fully intent on keeping you babbling for him or until you physically couldn't anymore, pulling one of your legs to hang off his shoulder so he can hit impossibly deeper. your eyes go wide when he starts hitting your womb, fingers digging into his arms. "right there! oh! tonie right there!" little yelps leave you, “feel you! feel it s’deep!”

“yeah? right here?” he purrs, tip pressing more into that mushy spot. his eyes are dark and glinting with something predatory as they greedily lock onto the way his cock fucks in and out of you. your body moves with every thrust, headboard knocking into the wall repeatedly you know people can hear it too. anton's thrusts get sloppy when hes close, body leaning over to groan into your ear. "gonna cum baby?" you wrap your arms around his torso to pull him closer, needing to feel his heart beating against yours before pressing your lips to his cheek. "cumming tonie!!"

you cum so hard your body shakes in anton's arms, not registering that he just came inside at this point, too exhausted and cock drunk that all you can feel is anton pulsing inside you. "ton.... s'much— inside so— so much.." you moan softly, words slurring together. sloppy hole quivering at the feeling of being so overfilled. “I know baby,” he whispers, voice light and sweet again. he waits patiently for you to unlatch for him so he can clean you up, not wanting to accidentally trigger you. instead of lessening your grip, you snuggle more into him.

"please just hold me tight?"

© KISSPURINS 2024 ✿

[coff33andb00ks]

Hazy Days - LN

summary: summer fling, don't mean a thing pairing: lando norris x divorced!reader word count: 3.6k warnings: non-explicit smut (mdni), older woman a.n.: fuck quadrant's summer scope vids song: summer nights from Grease

You're doing it again. It's been over a year now and you're still rubbing your ring finger with your thumb. You're not as quite as surprised when you don't feel the rings, and when you look down you're relieved to see that the pale patch of skin has disappeared. I've got to buy a ring, you think. Because, despite everything, you still feel weird without a ring on that finger.

You give your head a shake. The marriage is over. It was over before it officially began, but the divorce has been finalized for almost a month. The settlement is in your account – it's how you're paying for this spontaneous trip.

You're no longer a married woman. A terrifying thought, even now, when your entire identity for nearly 10 years was wife. And now…

Now you don't know what you are.

So you packed a bag, bought a plane ticket on a whim, and now you're at some seaside hotel in the south of France. You're looking out at the people on the beach, and further out at the yachts dotting the Mediterranean.

A place you've always wanted to visit and now you're frozen in the hotel room, scared to death that you won't enjoy it. Like a decadent dessert you've thought about all day that tastes like an old candy bar when you finally get a bite. Like the new Louboutin pumps you'd wanted for your birthday two years ago that had pinched your toes and you haven't worn since.

You've built this up in your head and now you're afraid it won't live up to your expectations.

Babes, enjoy it. This is gonna be so healing for you.

Your best friend's words ring in your mind and you reach for the phone to call her for more reassurance, then remember the time difference. She loves you, but she won't appreciate a phone call this early unless it's an emergency.

"God, get over it. You're not the only newly divorced woman in the world," you mutter to yourself, turning away from the window to finish dressing. You want to do some exploring, get plenty of photos to share, maybe find a few souvenirs.

Your thumb slides over your ring finger as you exit the hotel a little while later and you sigh, turning back to ask the concierge of a nice jewelry store. When you tell him you're interested in purchasing a ring, he knows the perfect place and soon you're on your way, strolling along the winding streets.

The afternoon sun is hot and you breathe a sigh of relief once you step into the shop. The interior or hushed and you're aware of the clerks' eyes all moving to you. A couple young men at the counter are chatting and laughing, not paying attention to you at all, and you venture further into the shop.

The men are looking at bracelets, and a smartly dressed clerk is more than happy to show you the rings, leading you to a low counter and inviting you to sit in the cushioned chair.

"Oh… No, not anything like a wedding or engagement ring," you say as a tray of sparkling diamond rings is brought out. "I… I recently got divorced and I need something to replace my rings. Something that looks nothing like a wedding ring?"

From behind you, you can hear the two men murmuring, their English accents oddly comforting after three days of hearing only French voices. You finally narrow the selection down to two and are trying to decide when movement out the corner of your eye snags your attention.

It's one of the men, peering at necklaces. You steal a glance at him – handsome, well dressed, a head of dark curls – and look back at the rings when he turns his head, embarrassed to be caught looking.

You're focusing on the rings, trying them on and testing out how they feel against your thumb, when he speaks.

"I think the other one looks better."

Jerking your head up, you find yourself looking into a pair of brilliant green eyes.

It's so fucking unfair that his lashes are so pretty.

"Do you?" you ask, looking back at the rings.

"Yeah – unless you want something flashy?"

He's moved close enough you can smell his cologne.

He even smells divine. So fucking unfair.

You switched rings and nodded. "Flashy isn't really me… I'll take this one," you tell the clerk.

The man smiles. "Getting used to a ring?"

"Ah… No," you chuckle. "Can't get used to not having one."

His smile dies and a look of panic flashes over his face. "Um… Sorry?"

You almost laugh. Giving your head a shake, you watch the clerk wrap the ring and wait for her to return. "Don't be."

"Oh," he murmured, smile returning and sliding into a grin. "Congratulations, then."

This time you do laugh. "Thanks."

He gives you a look as the clerk returns, and before you can reach for your wallet he's already handing over his card. You open your mouth to protest but he tips his head. "A congratulations gift," he insists.

His friend approaches, giving you a friendly nod. "What are we congratulating?"

You smile weakly. "The end of my marriage."

"Divorce?" he asks. When you nod, he smirks. "The best thing about marriage, honestly."

"Max."

"What am I supposed to say?" Max protests, holding up his hands.

The first man groans. "You're such a – cheers," he says when the clerk brings his card back. "Let's go before you embarrass me even more."

You're smiling at their banter as you thank the clerk for her assistance. When you stand to make your way out, he's waiting near the door.

"Buy you a drink?" he offers as he opens the door for you.

His name is Lando. Max – pain in my ass – is obviously his best friend and doesn't join you for drinks as he's got to get packed up to leave. When you suggested Lando spend time with him before he goes home, Lando waved it off.

"He lives in England but I see him all the time."

Lando, it turns out, does not live in England. He looks almost embarrassed when you ask where he lives, and when he finally mutters that he lives in Monaco your eyes widen. Surely he's too young to be that well off?

Trust fund, probably. Now you don't feel so bad for his paying for the ring.

"That must be… Interesting," you say, taking a sip of your drink. He's brought you to a chic bar at the beach, and you're sitting on the upper terrace, the slowly sinking sun casting a golden glow over the water.

"I don't really get much time there." He fiddles with the stirrer in his drink. "I'm gone a lot."

Interest piqued, you set your glass down. "Oh?" Maybe he's a model, even if he is a little on the short side. Not that he's that short – he's definitely taller than you. "What do you do?"

"I drive cars." He ducks his head briefly. "Racecars."

"Really? I'm not… I'm a dumb American, the only racing I really know is the Indy 500?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "That's IndyCar."

You listen, fascinated, as he tells you about formula one, which you have heard about but it's not in your orbit. He seems both relieved and amused at the fact you're not into sports, and you can feel him relax as he laughs when you tell him you only watch the Super Bowl every year so you can eat a ton of junk food.

A drink turns into a few, and he's so nice to listen to, so easy to talk to. When he suggests dinner, you hesitate. You don't want to be that woman, newly divorced and falling into bed with the first man that looks at you. Especially one so young—

"How old are you?" you blurt.

It obviously surprises him and, though he was halfway out of his seat he sank back down. "How old are you?"

You refuse to play coy, to fish for compliments like you're desperate. "I'm thirty."

His eyebrows lift. "Twenty-four."

So not that young. More like… younger.

Lando gives you a smile. "Does that cancel dinner?"

You look into his eyes for a long moment then glance out at the view. There's an obvious fork in the road in front of you. One leads to something with this handsome racecar driver, and you have a feeling it's going to be more than dinner. The other leads to the rest of your solo vacation, with the cloud of what could be lingering. Looking at him again, you slowly breathe in.

Expensive cologne. Salt air.

"I'd love dinner," you say, and his smile rivals the setting sun.

You'll never be able to describe the meal you ate. Lando makes it nearly impossible to focus on anything but him. Not in a demanding way. He's just… Magnetic. He tells you stories about his career, about embarrassing moments and highs and lows and talks about his other ventures. How does he have time to sleep? He talks glowingly about Max and has you giggling into your wine over a story of the two of them getting into trouble that left Lando locked out of his parents' home. When he apologizes for talking so much you almost beg him to not stop. But he asks about you, and you can't help thinking he seems genuinely interested.

"My life isn't half as interesting as yours," you say with a shake of your head.

"I don't know… You're divorced, halfway around the world, having dinner with a strange guy. Seems interesting to me," he murmurs.

"Oh, it's a tale as old as time. Girl meets boy, girl falls in love and gives up everything… Girl becomes a woman, boy becomes a toad."

Lando winced. "No kissing to turn him into a prince?"

"He'd have to want the kiss for that to happen."

"What a fucking idiot," Lando says.

You tilt your head to the side. "For being a toad?"

"For not wanting your kiss."

You set your glass down with a surprised gulp. About to call him out for feeding you a line, you pause, seeing the glimmer in his eyes. Without thinking you lick your lips and see his gaze dip down briefly. You don't know what to say or how to react so you sit there, unable to refrain from thinking about how a kiss from Lando would feel.

"His loss." Lando's voice was barely above a murmur. Then, shockingly, his cheeks darken and his tongue darts over his lips. He looks down at his plate and you can hear his sigh before he looks up, his expression serious. "You gave up everything?"

"A slight exaggeration, really." You shrug, picking at your food. "I had dreams that I put on hold to help him achieve his."

"I've never been married. But, like…" He sighs, setting his fork down. "That doesn't seem fair?"

"Life isn't—"

"I know, but marriage isn't life is it?" His face screws up at that but he forges ahead. "Isn't the whole point of it to support and help each other achieve their dreams?"

Smiling sadly, you nod. "I thought it was. He thought different."

"What dreams did you put on hold?" he asks after a moment.

"I wanted to get published." You look down at your half-eaten food. "When I was a kid, I loved reading and making up stories… I was studying for my degree in English – I planned to teach writing while working on my novels, because it's hard to make money doing it at first, and… Now it's too late."

"Why do you say that?"

"I'd have to go back to school and—"

"Yeah? Would you have to start over completely?"

"No." You can't remember how many credit hours you have left, but it would only take a phone call or an email to find out. "I wasn't too far from my degree."

"Then what's stopping you?" he challenged softly.

You don't have an answer. Nothing but the fear of failing, and you don't know him well enough to admit that.

"I don't read." He winces a bit at the admission. "Dyslexic, yeah? It's a miracle I finished school. But anyway. You write a novel and I promise to read it."

A smile pulls at your lips. "You'd do that for me? Someone you don't even know?"

"Of course." He grins. "I believe in supporting the arts."

He drives you back to the hotel in his sleek sportscar and for once you understand the allure of a purring engine and soft leather seats. There's no impending pressure when he offers to see you to your room, only the heat of his hand at the small of your back and the enticing scent of his cologne.

At your door, he hesitates. "Can I kiss you?"

Has anyone ever asked your consent for a kiss? You don't think so and the realization makes you sad, but you push that away because you've wanted him to kiss you since halfway through dinner.

His lips are a lighted match to kindling. The heat and desire are immediate and you're leaning into him, frightened by the strength of your want but craving more. It's been an embarrassingly long time since you've felt this way and you're aware that it may be even longer before you feel it again. So when the door finally clicks open you don't hesitate to step inside, pausing and reluctantly breaking the kiss to look up at him.

And wish you'd googled how to invite a man into your hotel room without sounding desperate.

But you don't have to ask.

"Okay to come in?" he whispers.

"God yes," you gasp.

His lips are on yours before the door closes behind him. Wrapping your arms around him, you sink into the kiss, snatching in breaths as his hands cradle your head. A soft whine is muffled against his tongue as you grip the front of his shirt, knees nearly forgotten as the tenderness of his touch wars the ferocity of his kiss.

"Fuck," he mumbles against your lips, his hands beginning to wander, molding you closer against him, his breath hitching as he clutches your hips. He pulls his head back slightly and you can feel his harsh breathing as he stares at you before crashing his lips to yours again.

The need grows stronger, almost primal, and you're backing towards the bed, gasping as his hands pull at your dress, nearly ripping it. Craving the feel of his skin, you do the same to his shirt, barely noticing the trail of clothing on the floor, too focused on his touch and his smell and the decadence of his kiss. He guides you down, swallowing your gasp as your bare skin touches the cool sheets.

Breaking the kiss with a harsh moan, he braces his hands on either side of you and lifts up slightly. He's panting, lips parted, and he gives a soft chuckle of surprise. "I didn't plan on this."

You lick your lips, still tasting him. And only craving more. "Neither did I."

He blinks, eyes almost wild as they dart from yours to your lips and back again. And all you can think—

Beautiful. Breathtakingly so. You know it'll never happen but the romantic inside you wishes you could wake up to his eyes every morning.

He leans down, and his kiss sends every coherent thought away. His skin is warm beneath your fingers, his hair softer than you thought it would be. His hands are rough but gentle at the same time, in your hair and trailing down your sides. Your name is a longing moan vibrating against your throat as you trace the muscles of his back.

"Lando," you gasp, arching beneath him.

"I know… I know." Hot breath at your ear, fingers digging into your thigh. Guiding your leg over his hip.

"Please." It's a soft moan.

"Fuck." His lips move to yours, his gasping whimper muffled.

The frantic need is still there but he's unhurried, as though he's trying to memorize every breath, every touch. When your hand flies out to grasp the sheet his hand follows, fingers threading between yours and gripping tightly. You're lost in the haze, sweat forming between you, sheets twisting. Ecstasy rises, peaks, and it's so sudden and delicious your cries ring out.

"Y/n." A desperate whine that only increases the bliss.

Rolling, twisting, arching. It's feverish and needy and so good so so good.

You both collapse, your hands in his sweat-damp hair. Panting, tingling, you wait for the awkwardness that never comes. His touch is tender, his lips gentle on yours before he's pulling away, murmuring that he'll get a towel. He's back before you can catch your breath, and by the time you can breathe he's kissing you again.

The sky outside is turning gray when you both breathlessly agree to get some sleep. You half expect him to leave, but he's there when you wake up, sleeping on his stomach next to you, his arm slung across your waist, his gentle snores telling you he's fast asleep.

And though you distinctly remember him saying he was going back to Monaco that day, he sticks around. Blushes and shrugs when you ask him about it over lunch, then suggests borrowing a friend's yacht for the night. The days bleed into the nights, a blurred span of time of sightseeing, swimming, and Lando.

When it's time for you to pack up to go home you feel a little bereft. But the vacation can't last forever. You've got to go back to real life, figure out how you'll live as a completely free woman. And he's got to get back to his life, jetting around the world and undoubtedly breaking hearts.

You exchange numbers and he promises to keep in touch, but you know you'll be forgotten before your plane takes off. You've been a pleasant distraction for his summer break, nothing more.

You're about to board when your phone buzzes with an incoming text. From Lando.

- You dropped your ring in my car.

As you stare at the words, you realize you haven't rubbed your ring finger in nearly a week. A picture appears on the screen, the ring – that he bought – resting in his palm.

- Hold onto it for me?

He won't. He'll give it away or sell it or take it back to the shop.

But, when you're back home and have exchanged texts with him and even a couple phone calls – yes I promise I contacted an advisor, I'm signing up for classes – and he lets you know his break is over and he's getting back to work, you cave and pull up footage of him in an interview.

He looks different on the screen of your laptop. Good, but different. And you can only focus on the necklace that's just visible under his (hideous really) orange shirt. When he leans, it shifts, and you see it.

Your ring.

"Are you still hung up on her?"

Lando's head snaps up at Max's question. "What?"

His friend gestures to the phone in Lando's hand. "That American?"

He feels his cheeks heat and realizes Max knows he's looking at your Instagram. "I'm not hung up."

Max just looks at him.

"I'm just checking on her," he mutters.

With a sigh, Max softens and sits next to him. "It's okay to like her, you know."

He huffs, his hand reaching to fiddle with the ring on his necklace. "She was just supposed to be a fling."

"But she wasn't," Max says after a moment.

Lando shakes his head. "I don't know," he whispers.

Silence lingers, stretches as his thumb hovers over your most recent post.

Then, softly. "Am I stupid?"

Max shoots him a look.

"For thinking it was special," he adds before his friend can insult him. "For thinking she thinks it was special."

"Was it special?"

He swallows hard, rolling the ring between his fingers as he looks at the post, a photo of a cup of coffee next to a laptop. Up past my bedtime parsing Austen. Liking it, he closes the app and locks his phone.

Was it special? Or was it just the great sex and no strings that had him thinking it was? At first, in those days immediately after you'd left, he'd only thought about the sex. How freeing it had been, knowing he wouldn't see you again and could let inhibitions go. But with each week that passed the sex wasn't the only thing he thought about.

Laughter and sunshine. Salty air and sweet conversation. Honeyed voice and understanding eyes.

He lifts his head, meeting Max's eyes. He doesn't have to say it. Max has known him for more than half his life. But he answers.

"Yes."

Taglist:

@maxlarens | @driverlando | @leodette | @forzalando | @captainreecejames | @d3kstar | @frenchyjuju | @irishmanwhore | @warrensluvr | @tpwkstiles | @mcmuppet | @eveninggstar | @noooway555 | @bookishnerd1132 | @skeleton-elly | @trisharee | @littlegrapejuice

[eiightysixbaby]

hi there! i'm OBSESSED with your eddie works and I had a lil request for u!

(if this is out of your comfort zone, I totally get btw, i'm just actually hormonal rn)

thinking about reader and eddie while she's ovulating and absolutely, positively feral... maybe they've only been together for a little while and they've fucked before, but he's never really seen that side of her... idk i'm just thinking a lot of thoughts rn

thanks! 💞

hi angel! thank you so much!!! 🥹🫶🏻 i hope i did your request justice 🩵

18+ only plssss. fem!reader, unprotected piv

The clock ticks obnoxiously where it hangs on the wall, marking each passing second that won’t pass fast enough.

It’s not unusual for a shift at the library to go slowly, but today time feels like it’s trudging through thick molasses; barely crawling by. Or maybe it’s just going backwards at this point, who knows.

You chew at the cap of your pen, reading the same sentence of the novel in front of you over and over yet not fully comprehending it. Trying to ignore the desperate ache between your thighs, the heat that pools in the pit of your stomach. It had been a relentless desire for the last couple of hours, a hunger that couldn’t be sated just yet.

But the promise of seeing your boyfriend after work had you chewing-through-your-leash desperate for your shift to end. You know Eddie had a nice dinner planned for the two of you tonight, but all you can think about is how badly you need his hands on you. It makes you feel bad, but you can’t rid yourself of thoughts of his lips on your neck, his fingers splitting you open, your hips grinding against him. This always happens when you’re ovulating, only this time… you’re not hiding it.

The last couple of times, you’d made do with your vibrator at home; embarrassed to let Eddie see this side of you. Your relationship was still quite new, and you weren’t sure if ripping his clothes off any chance you got would scare him away or not. This time, though? You can’t hold back any longer.

The end of your shift arrives at long last, and you practically fling yourself from your receptionist chair. You gather your belongings with haste, throwing everything into your shoulder bag before hightailing it out the door. Your keys jangle as you fumble with them, searching for the correct one to unlock your car. Eddie will be expecting you, although maybe not expecting you in the state that you’re in.

It doesn’t take long to get to the trailer park, your thighs pressing together in an attempt to provide even the smallest amount of friction as you drive along familiar roads. Your car is barely in park before you’re killing the engine, ascending the few steps to his trailer door and swinging it open without a knock to alert anyone inside. Wayne isn’t home anyway, so really what do you need to knock for?

Eddie’s frame appears in his bedroom doorway down the small hallway, his face brightening at the sight of you. You feel like you’re sweating just looking at him, your clothes suddenly too tight as the space between your thighs vibrates with need.

“Hey, baby. I didn’t expect you so soon, did you fly over here?” Eddie asks, a lighthearted joke, but he’s not far from the truth.

You don’t even answer him, slipping off your shoes before you’re trodding down the hallway, throwing your arms around his neck when you reach him.

“Baby, what’s—” he starts to speak, only for you to cut him off with a hot kiss to his lips. His voice dies against your mouth, fizzling into a soft whimper as you tug his bottom lip between your teeth.

“Missed you so bad,” you murmur. Your nervousness over how he’d react is tossed out the window, unwilling to wait any longer. “And I’ve been wanting you all fucking day,” you ramble, kissing him between words. “I need you,” you plead, letting a hand fumble with his belt buckle.

He makes a sound that’s halfway between a gasp and a laugh, kissing you before speaking. “Do you not want to go to dinner?” he asks, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“I do,” you admit with a pout. “But I need you right now.” Your hands are on a mission, palming him urgently through denim as if he might disappear any second, never to be touchable again.

The corner of his mouth twitches up in a soft smirk, his thumbs rubbing over your hipbones where his hands hold them.

“I’ve never seen you this needy, sweetheart,” he teases you, brushing his lips across the shell of your ear before he bites at the lobe. “But I like it.”

You whine at this, the slightest touch, and he breathes a quiet laugh.

“Please, Eddie, don’t tease,” you beg as he noses your chin up, kissing at your neck.

He doesn’t listen, taking his time trailing kisses down your soft skin and letting his hands wander but never close enough to where you need him. You can feel yourself dripping, making a mess of your panties. His big hands squeeze your ass, taking greedy handfuls. You let out a moan, louder than you’d intended, earning the nip of his teeth against your skin. Taunting.

You’re riled up, frustrated beyond belief, huffing where you stand before you decide you’ve had enough.

You press your hands to his chest, pushing him off of you. He’s surprised by the action, giving you the opportunity to grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him over to his bed and letting him fall onto the mattress. He sits on the edge of it, looking up at you equal parts dumbfounded and turned on. Your hands hurriedly undo the hefty buckle on his belt, unzipping his jeans as you start to straddle his lap. His cock is throbbing, leaking as it lays in waiting in your hand once you retrieve it from its confines.

“Told you not to tease,” you say. His big brown eyes roam over your face, his pretty lips parted just slightly in a state of awe. “I need you to fuck me. Now.”

“Yes ma’am,” he obeys, but it’s less him doing the work and more you taking control.

You ruck your skirt up, pushing the fabric of your panties to the side and lining yourself up with his cock, sliding slowly down onto the length of him. Your name escapes his lips as his leaves yours, already starting to rock your hips against his.

He holds you firmly in place on his lap, guiding your movements to the best of his ability. The stretch he provides you with is delicious, exactly what you’d been craving, the entirety of him filling you up perfectly.

“You’re so fucking soaked, baby,” he remarks, bringing one hand up to briefly run through his messy curls, his cheeks already flushed pink. “Feel bad you had to wait so long for me while you’ve been this worked up.”

He’s teasing you, kind of. Pitying you in a way that only makes you ache further. You bounce faster on him, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders. He’s cursing under his breath as you’re fucking yourself on his length, riding him with a fervor and determination he hasn’t seen from you yet. He finds it hotter than he’d have ever expected, seeing you in such a state, and it’s taking everything he has not to finish early.

Lucky for him you aren’t far behind, desperate to cum after waiting all day. He lets one of his thumbs lazily circle your clit, sensing your desire to let go in the way your brows furrow in concentration.

Strings of moans tumble from your mouth, curse after curse of his name as you quicken your pace. Your head tips back, pure ecstasy coursing through you as you take what you want from him unashamedly. The rough pad of his finger on your clit makes you feel like you’re on fire, ablaze beneath his touch. His hips buck to meet your bounces, the tip of his cock pressing over and over against your sweet spot.

“Eddie—” you gasp, just as you fall apart on top of him. Your walls grip him like a vice, making him bite down on his lip.

He works you through your high, pulling out when he can’t possibly hold off his orgasm any longer. He pumps his cock in his fist a few times before he spills against your skin, cum dripping down your pussy.

Both panting, sweaty messes, you meet each other’s eyes and laugh.

“Feel better now, sweets?” he asks, lips pressing against yours in a heated kiss.

You break away momentarily, cradling his face in your hands. “You have no idea.”

He smiles. “Well, for what it’s worth, you have permission to use me whenever you need me.”

“Thank god,” you sigh, smiling against his cheek. “Cause I don’t think I’m done for the night.”

[orionremastered]

I really love the 911 texting post with the batboys! Quite accurate imo, lol.

If it's possible, may I request how the batboys react to their gf being pouty and touchy with them cuz they've been away for a long time for a big mission?

Thank you! Tho tbh damian would get more than ten assassins. like twenty minimum

Masterlist

Batboys Returning from a Long Mission

Dick Grayson

"You're back!"

Dick's tired eyes take in the apartment. It's clean— cleaner than it's ever been— and there's practically a feast on the kitchen counter.

You fling your arms around him, smiling into his chest. Slowly, he wraps his arms around you, breathing in the familiar scent of your shampoo. "Missed you," he murmurs.

You squeeze him tighter and he winces in pain, letting out a hiss. Your head immediately snaps up and your boyfriend sighs. "I got stabbed— but it's not that bad, I promise— and had to get it stitched some. Relax."

Still, you frown and lift up his shirt, inspecting the stitches on his side.

"See? Fine."

"It doesn't look fine."

"Right... anyway, did you cook something? I'm starving."

You look back into his eyes and nod repeatedly, your own eyes sparkling.

Jason Todd

A soft thud sounds from behind you before arms wrap around your waist. "Hey," he whispers into your ear before kissing you on the cheek. "What're you doing?"

He's climbed through the window. Again.

"I'm about to go to work," you reply, twisting in his hold to return the embrace. "But I'll call in sick and spend today with you."

Jason pulls back and frowns. "No, you should go to work."

"But you just got back!"

"I can wait." Something in his eyes told you he really couldn't, but he wasn't going to say that.

You huff and begin dragging him to the couch. He complies with a sigh, lying down on the cushions and wrapping his arms around you when you lay on top of him.

"I missed you," you tell him.

"I missed you too."

Tim Drake

You wake up to Tim having draped himself on top of you during the night, his hand resting on your cheek. You pull him impossibly closer and he stirs, eyes opening to watch you with a questioning look.

"When did you get back?"

The sunlight streams through the curtains, bathing his face in a golden glow. A smile cracks onto his face before he buries it into your neck with a groan. "Late," is all he says, a chuckle in his tone.

"You should get some more sleep," you chide, running a hand through his dark hair.

"But—"

"I can make you breakfast or lunch for when you wake up again but you need rest," your tone leaves no room for argument, yet he scowls before putting his face back in the crook of your neck.

"Stay?"

"...okay, I'll stay."

Damian Wayne

There's nothing that made you smile more than seeing him again. And directly after you made him breakfast and let him rest, you dragged him out to a restaurant for lunch.

"I would've been happy with just eating at home," he tells you, holding your hand as you walk back to your apartment.

"But I wanted to do something nice for you," you pout. "And then you had to pay."

"I would've never let you pay in a million years," Damian says, face scrunching in disgust and the thought. "So it was me saying sorry for being gone so long."

You smile and lean into his side. "I'm just glad you're back."

He lets go of your hand and wraps it around your shoulders. "I'm glad to be back."

[sovksluv]

sleepy girl

𖤐 . pairing - Luke Castellan x fem!Hypnos!reader

𖤐 . summary - hii!! how are you???? this is my first time doing a request, so i'm a little nervous :) could you please do a luke castellan x daughter of Hypnos!reader? with lots of fluff, please!! thank you <33

𖤐 . content includes - one of the Stoll brothers (idk who, yall can pick), sleepy reader, readers race not specified

𖤐 . word count - 545 (sorry it’s short :( )

𖤐 . taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303

𖤐 . a/n - i just asked siri to pick a number 1-23 (AHHHHHH TYSMMMMM FOR 23 ASKS) and this is what she picked

the bright light peeking through windows and the bustling noise of Hermes cabin did nothing to help wake you up. the fact that you still slept so peacefully, despite all the ruckus, left Luke questioning if you were alive or not. you were, the soft rise and fall of your chest while you slept assured that.

Luke kneeled beside your bed, trying to figure the best way to wake you up. or any way to wake you up. it was almost two pm and here you were, sleeping without a single sigh or stir. “yo, Castellan! ya’girl dead or something?” a loud voice called from behind him. Luke scoffed, he could tell it was one of the Stolls, but ultimately chose to ignore him.

he watched as you softly snored, eyes fluttering. you were deep in a dream, a soft smile forming on your lips as it continued. the very subject of your dream was sitting in front of you, desperate to wake you, not wanting you to miss all three of your meals.

his calloused fingers delicately brushed your hair from your face. he cooed your name softly, continuing to lure you from your dreamstate. Luke left gentle kisses on both your forehead and your cheek, still coaxing you back to the present with his sweet words.

you sighed in your sleep, half awake. Luke smirked to himself, still running his fingers through your hair. “time to wake up, baby,” he whispered, “you’ve already missed two meals.” his calming chuckle sounded right into your ears.

your eyes fought to open – just a little, though. the bright sunlight burned, causing your eyes to slam shut, and your arm to fling over them, almost hitting Luke right in the face. he laughed as you whined, your whine morphing into a yawn half way through. “hi sweet girl, did ya’ sleep good?”

you muttered out a ‘mhm,’ hesitantly uncovering your eyes. when you finally allowed your eyes to adjust, you were met with the kind eyes of your sweet boyfriend. a precious smile engulfed your lips as you stared up at him. he mimicked your smile, fingers still softly brushing through your hair.

“hi, Lukey,” you mumbled, yawning once again, drowsily blinking up at Luke. “hi, baby, what time did you go to bed last night?” he questioned, you took a moment to think before answering him. “8:30,” you mumbled sweetly.

Luke laughed, you’d almost slept a full twenty-four hours, and you would have if it wasn’t for him. he helped you sit up, chuckling to himself at the sheet marks on your arms and your flushed cheeks. all signs of a good night's rest.

he stood up from his spot on the floor, holding out his hand to you to help you up. you gratefully took his hand, standing up and leaning into him. his strong arms wrapped around you, warming you up. it almost made you fall asleep right there.

before you did, though, Luke spoke. “come on, sleepy girl, let’s go get you something to eat, yeah?” he used his fingers to tilt your head up to look at him, waiting for your nod of agreement. you nodded, letting him help you put on your slippers and leading you out of the cabin.

© sovksluv 2024, please do not repost or translate my work!

[maiiuelle]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ᡣ𐭩 ⋆ ˚｡⋆

rafe cameron is not known for giving heartfelt apologies, but after what he had done to you last week, he couldn’t shake the sick feeling in his stomach.

he tried all his usual methods of letting go — starting with more meaningless hook ups, cocaine, and partying. it felt natural to try to move on like you were just another fling, after all you were never officially together. it worked enough to keep him occupied, but ultimately, it only made him feel worse to pretend you meant nothing to him. it serves as a constant reminder of exactly how he made you feel that night — like nothing.

the intrusive memory of what happened haunts him. before the incident, you were really growing on him. he made you his main girl without meaning to, inviting you to the club and out golfing just because he genuinely wanted you there beside him. by the time he realized he had real feelings for you, it felt like everyone else already knew.

you made him feel vulnerable, and it scared him. being so public with you put his emotions out on display. he had to remind himself that you weren’t his girlfriend, you were just supposed to be another girl he had on his roster. he has a big ego and an even bigger reputation, and in an attempt to protect that rather than you, he continued on with his bachelor lifestyle.

he never imagined you’d show up that night — he hoped brushing you off would shoo you away, save you from the inevitable realization he isn’t as great as he makes himself out to be. instead, you made him face you head on, and he would remember the devastated look on your face forever.

the nonchalant mask finally slips when his friends start asking where you went, having noticed your sudden absence. after all that time of trying to suppress his guilt, it struck a nerve just hearing your name. “who’s asking? ‘cause—cause i know it’s none of your fuckin’ business what she’s up to.”

topper lifts his hands in surrender, eyeing kelce. “woah. chill, man. i was just wondering, i thought you were into that chick.”

kelce snickers, taking the chance to finally get payback for every time rafe mocked them for chasing after girls. “what? did she dump you or something?”

rafe just pushes out of his seat, waving them off as he finishes what’s left in his glass. he doesn’t spare his friends another glance despite their boisterous protests, instead just addressing the bartender on his way out. “put it on cameron.”

he can’t handle it anymore, he has to do something.

it’s officially been a week since you last saw rafe. like clockwork the early birds begin to sing songs as they welcome the brand new day, the sun just starting to rise above the horizon. you’re still awake from the night before, unable to sleep with how your mind is racing.

you had been holding it together much better than rafe — to the public, you’re thriving. you go out with your friends every night, looking better than ever at yacht parties and the island club. it’s freeing to spend more time with your girl friends again, but you really can’t stand to spend any time by yourself.

thats why the nights are the worst, when you’re stuck alone in the silent solitude of your bedroom. that’s where you are now, wrapped up in your duvet with puffy eyes from crying all night over him. you just couldn’t wrap your head around the betrayal — after you thought you truly knew him, he turned out to be exactly how everyone said he was. manipulative, slimy, and selfish. your heart aches at your own ignorance, feeling stupid for not seeing the now obvious red flags.

to try to get your mind off of him, even just for a second, you tune into the gentle tapping of morning rain on your windowsill. in an overtired daze, you dream of being a princess locked away in a tower with your heroic lover waiting below, tossing stones at your window to garner your attention.

you don’t let it play on for too long, cutting it off abruptly by pulling your pillow over your face, silently scolding yourself. your infatuation with romance novels is what got you into this mess in the first place, making you delusively believe that rafe cameron was your prince charming. so stupid.

but, the tapping grows louder, your silly fantasy rebelling against you, refusing to disappear. in a fit of exhausted frustration, you grab the pillow off your head and throw it across the room, watching as it lands flat on the floor just short of the window, just in time for one of the shiny stones from your garden to hit the glass. then another, and another.

it couldn’t be. you can’t believe your eyes, especially after a long night of sobbing and zero sleep. you slowly slip out of your bed, walking up to the window cautiously.

“oh, you have to be joking.” you look down from your bedroom window to see none other than rafe standing in your lawn with a hand full of rocks and his truck parked on the curb. he’s clearly had a long night too, swaying on his feet and deflating when he sees you appear in the window.

“baby! baby — please talk to me!” he shouts, and you rush to push your window open. your father already hates the camerons, and you don’t want to deal with that confrontation if he wakes him up this early in the morning.

“shhh!” you press your finger to your lips, practically pushing your whole upper body out the window urgently to whisper-shout at him. “what are you thinking? my dad’s gonna kill you!”

“baby, i—i need to talk to you, please.” rafe whines, dropping the rest of the stones in his hand so he can push his bangs back. desperation looks strange on him, in your state of shock you hold up a hand to silence him and give yourself a second to weigh your options. you could get him back for what he did right now, do exactly what he did to you — you could scream at him to leave, to never speak to you again, and go get your father to handle the rest.

but instead, you just roll your eyes. so stupid. “just.. just wait a second.” you sigh as you shut the window quietly, closing your eyes for a moment of pause. before you change your mind, you march to your bedroom door, grabbing your fluffy robe and slipping it over your shoulders followed by your slippers.

you would never do any of that to him, not with the way you still feel about him, no matter how frustrating that is. you wish he could just be dead to you, but that’s not how you feel. the least you could do is hear out what he has to say for himself, even big bad rafe cameron deserves a second chance.

you take a deep breath as you slip down the stairs quietly, bracing yourself to face him. you open the front door, pulling your robe tighter over your nightgown to fight the cold morning air that bites at your skin as you sneak outside.

rafe rushes toward you, holding his head in anguish. “baby, listen to me. i—i know i screwed up, alright? i—”

“stop!” you thump your foot on the front porch, glaring at him from the top of the wooden steps. just because you’re kind enough to give him the time of day doesn’t mean he’s off the hook. he listens, pausing with wide eyes as he looks you over. he really is a mess, tears falling from his eyes and mixing with the morning rain that’s already soaked his hair and shirt. “god, rafe. what is going on with you?”

“i’m a fuckin’ idiot.” he cries, his face twisting as he sobs. “we had something good, right? and—and i fucked it all up. i did. it’s all my fault.”

you stand there with your arms crossed in front of you like a shield.“how do you think i feel? i thought you cared, meanwhile you’re lying to me and fucking some other girl?” you frown, staring him down. “you.. you humiliated me!”

“i know, i know — trust me, i know!” he grits his teeth, spinning on his heel in frustration before pacing back toward you. “you’ve got no idea, alright? i promise you, i’ve torn myself apart enough over this. just—” he strains, sucking in a shaky deep breath and forcing it out, trying to calm down. “i need you. okay?”

“oh really? how am i supposed to trust you?” you spit, venom in your voice. seeing him grovel at your front steps is oddly satisfying, even though the deep hurt in his voice is twisting your stomach.

“baby, look at me!” rafe drags his hands down his wet shirt, looking at you like a puppy dog stuck out in the rain. “i’m a fuckin’ mess without you. look, i—i took advantage of the situation, alright, i admit that. but i can’t breathe without you.” he stops, fidgeting anxiously as he waits for a response. you’re frozen, equally as shocked as him at his words. the anxiety gets the better of him and he steps forward, moving up the steps toward you. seeing your teary, red eyes stings in his chest. “c’mere, okay? let’s just — let’s just put this all behind us, right?”

“rafe—”

“nah, nah. it’s alright, c’mere.” he coos, and you kick yourself because you don’t back away, instead letting him come up on your porch and put his arms out for you. you blink up at him with your doe eyes, the sympathetic look on his face melting your defense. you just crumble into his arms, having been so desperate for him to comfort you exactly how he his now. “c’mon, there you go. you’re my girl. my girl.”

could you give him another chance?

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ᡣ𐭩 ⋆ ˚｡⋆

[yojeongin]

I remember everything | j.jh

→burnt-out writer!jaehyun x host f!reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff, summer fling, found home, strangers to lovers to strangers again, missed connection, 80's au

synopsis: jaehyun didn’t think meeting you in that quaint lonesome countryside town would come in between him and writing something hopeful and lively in contrast to all of his gloomy work. in fact it was a blessing to have someone help him navigate the foreign country. yet life always has something up its sleeve no matter how soul crushing.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! mentions/implementations of poor mental health, abusive higher ups, mentions of bad parenting, unprotected sex.

wc: 28.5k+ || soundtrack || ao3

© 2024 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other platforms. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated!

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are ONLY characters. read at your own discretion.

an: summer is gone and I tried posting this for the past 2 months so here is an ode to the place that inspired it all.

The contents of the box had been sitting unwrapped for what felt like an eternity after recalling last week’s events. The miscellaneous items your family sent were a recurring sight but it was rare that Ollie sent you anything besides his letters. 

What disturbed you most is his choice of item. Those bold scripted yellow letters mock you. You weren’t upset with him, you could never be upset with him. You know it’s not his doing, that he was put up to it. What upsets you is the resurfacing thoughts you had hid away in the vault of your memory years ago when you remained naive and to your disgrace revived with one detail.

Courage was the last thing in you. It surged through, more so forcibly, perhaps even masochistically. That seems correct because the second you open to the first page, images you believed you would never see, fly out, reminding you of a life that you can only describe as a daydream.

Every single image had something written in the back of it. You attempt to refrain from reading each note. With no avail, the loops of his handwriting draw you in as much as his piercing gaze and the smile you still dream about – those dimples you can’t forget no matter how much you now look at them on someone else.

There’s a folded letter slotted before the dedication page. It smells like him and you can’t help being transported to the summer you met him. The pleasantly strong cologne you could smell even in the masses of stench when cleaning the pen. Or through the window you two sneaked kisses at night. 

You don’t want to cry, you truly try not to, yet the waterworks flow when you finally focus on the dedication page of this damned book. 

‘To the life I needed all along… I remember everything.’

Jaehyun remembers with fondness the tranquility of what he considers home. The warmth that filled his chest with every waking moment he spent in that beautiful quaint village. And now looking and thinking back at it, that fondness muddles with the pain in his heart. That’s not what he wants nor needs, that’s not what he came here for.

Jaehyun could get behind it, it was nice. He immediately got used to the cool breeze which felt more like a chilly autumn rather than the grueling summer. He could definitely get used to the smell of wood burning from stoves and chimneys that indicated locals began their day. Similar enough to the rough housing from goats and sheep’s bleats to roosters for them to shut up, that the sun was enough of a wake up call. 

Fairly loud, not nearly as much as the city. It was one thing to admire the beauty outside of his temporary residence. Bougainvillea vines, flamboyant and bright, purloining his attention to let him know they were the star of the show, overshadowing any other house around.

Jaehyun needed something and all he knew was that he had to escape the constraints of his overpopulated and 24/7 bustling city that has cursed him to hell multiple times for not giving it a heartfelt ovation. How could he when he’s been shown nothing but hatred from it since he stepped foot in that hell hole?

Things should be different here, he knows that – he’s been shown. 

His taxi driver spoke idly about his day. Describing the breakfast his wife had made before he left. His daughter had visited to drop off their grandson while she went to work at the local market but in the process the kid had fallen down the steep steps claiming all he wanted as comfort was to spend time with his ‘Tito’. So there he was making rocket sounds and hammering the glove compartment with the pale sun-eaten toy car that caused his fall. In the process, turning back to Jaehyun asking if he liked dishes he had never heard of before that the kid didn’t like himself.

Jaehyun remembers it well. 

How can such a beautiful place bring him agony? 

He wanted to stray away from those pessimistic feelings that had shackled him for years, tainting every single one of his pieces. When his publisher and manager told him it would be best to go somewhere he’d know nothing about his world, to have time to think about a new story, he was the first one to say goodbye, muttering under his breath that he wished he’d never see them again. Jaehyun was elated to know he was given a golden ticket out. 

The past few launches and expectations had been hectic. Drowning him with stress and though many would think being a successful writer at such a young age was all fun and games, they'd think otherwise when your team is hollering in your ear daily to come up with new content and critics claiming you’ve yet again failed to provide anything meaningful besides pretentiousness. 

Jaehyun is tired of that dark monotonous and consuming cycle they’re forcing him to be in. So he’s hopeful and excited to see what this beautiful rural village can bring him. Hopeful that it’ll break those shackles of misery that cling to him until his ankles bruise and bleed. Hopeful to find meaning to this life that he’s been searching for. 

Struck with awe throughout his entire trajectory down the cobble and dirt-filled path from midtown to the house, the animal noises he had managed to drown became louder upon pushing open the metal door, growing wary. When he finally crossed the threshold he was met with the image of someone tussling with a ram, enough to get tackled and Jaehyun can only explain that feeling as freight.

That was the first time he met you.

From far away and with his feet grounded in fear, the fear you didn’t have regardless of all those rammings. That must’ve hurt, Jaehyun thinks so. How could it not? The beast came in charging three times, each making the impact seem worse. Twisted horns able to bruise the skin of your thighs.

Every step closer increases his shock. Muffled groans and curses from you mixed with laughter from your grandfather that stood and watched. Neither of you blame him, being the victim of that damn thing at 80 had caused irreparable damage to his hip. There’s nothing he could have done. At best he mangles the rope beside the stake, swinging it in hopes of getting it off you. 

Jaehyun felt inutile. He had no experience with animals nor with any labor besides what his father would drag him into. It’s not his fault he became a writing prodigy. His brute strength was useless if he was too scared to jump into the pen to help you. 

It was more shocking when a scrawny boy in a simple white tee, dusty jeans, heavy work boots just as muddy had pushed through him. Yelling something he couldn’t understand but later found it meant “Get the fuck out the way!” He didn’t mean to be malicious but he was scared himself. Jumping over the pen’s fence and pulling the damned ram off of you, he slaps its rear as a form of discipline. It amazes Jaehyun how effortless he made it look.

Finally free and things having calmed down, Jaehyun saw the elderly man seize his laughter. Genuine tears slip from his eyes. He was scared, truly scared it could have been your end. Having experienced it himself, he couldn’t help both sympathize and feel guilty. You and the kid reassured him it was fine. It wasn’t a first but your grandpa wouldn’t hear it, sighing as he continued to sob. 

Jaehyun later found that he was insanely sensible. Laughing things off to calm himself to eventually break down.

In attempts to ease his pain, you had sent the young boy to fetch your grandpa a coke and some bread. 

Nowadays, Jaehyun consumes those items whenever he grows scared 

Making your way with a limp that your grandfather mimicked due to his own attack and age, Jaehyun finally approaches you both, voice slightly quivering.

“Are you alright?!” Jaehyun quips, your head turns to him un-amusedly. Cautious but relaxed for whoever’s sake. “Yeah… it’s not the first time.” You try to smile at the stranger who is obviously not from the village inside the premise of your grandparent’s home. It only dawned upon you who he was when you noticed the pristine suitcases in his hands. Holding the handles like a lost victorian count in search of a new start in the bustling dirty city – despite the contrast.

“You’re the new tenant, right?” You ask, limp finally gone after something cracked. Jaehyun winces, amused with the nonchalant tone in your voice; he nods fervently. “Yeah, um, I can pay for a few months up front if you don’t mind.” Neither of you had noticed that both had stopped walking, your grandpa already in the house, leaving you to speak with the young and attractive man before you.

“Months?”

Jaehyun nods. “If you don’t mind or have another tenant.” He feels sheepish; confident in your eyes. “Don’t worry, it’s been open for months.” 

It’s amazing to him how you’re acting like you didn’t almost need a ride to the nearest hospital. Seeing the limp gone and crouching down to pick up a bucket full of dry corn kernels like nothing. He could have believed everything he saw didn’t really happen. 

It’s recurring if he thinks back to it, how everything felt so fleeting and surreal. He despises and feels it mocking him daily.

Following you around like a lost puppy while you sprinkled the ground with those kernels, he took note of the expression on your face. You’re still in pain, it’s written all over the movements you make. He rules you’re ignoring it to not seem ill before him or specifically to reassure your grandfather. 

Jaehyun has a strong image in your eyes. It would crumble with just about anything and you felt comfortable figuring that out. Just like it has done now, with chickens rushing and flooding the area to gobble down their meal. Jaehyun was startled and scared they’d peck him in the process. 

You try not to laugh despite the giggles leaving in spurts. Nearing the kitchen door, you stop in your tracks to look at him. “Don't worry about the pay, it won't be necessary.” It troubles him and this time he won’t hold his thoughts. Well, he wasn’t going to but as soon as his lips parted, the sprint door opened, showing a much shorter and pudgier older woman. He reckons that’s your grandmother so he smiles and greets her accordingly. 

She accepts it, returning the favor before going back to business in handing you the bowl full of pepper seeds and stems to feed the chickens. That left him and your grandmother alone, inviting him to the kitchen.

He studied the kitchen upon crossing the threshold, admiring the huge chimney in the right corner, soot covered it along the boiling metal bucket of water. There was a chair in front of it, one of those school chairs that cling onto your hair until it’s off your scalp. 

A metal cabinet in between the entrance door and the hallway. It’s dusty, showcasing fine china that was never used. He found the cracks above the very tall ceilings the most enchanting, all leading to portraits above the hallway’s threshold. Trajectory and lineage demonstrated through the years. Most recently: one of you with your diploma. 

Beautiful. Utterly beautiful, he thought.

“Come, I’ll show you around.” 

The tour was simple, the hallway that connected the main room and kitchen was a room in itself. Privacy wasn’t really an option within these walls but it didn’t matter, he wasn’t the one sleeping in the main house.

All he had to know about this house was that it was an old canteen that your grandmother’s father bought for her as a wedding gift. The hallway had a bed your grandfather slept on, a couch he sat to watch the TV propped on top of a dresser in the main room –where he’d join him often– and a door that led to the guest’s area.

Despite the open concept, she didn’t show him the room where you and her slept in. He caught a glimpse of a door to the only restroom in there –restroom with a window he would spend his nights at often–, a vanity you both filled with expired products, and two beds on opposite sides. He figures the one with a pristine Garfield plush was yours. 

Jaehyun felt the clarity of finding home within these few minutes. It was summer and the house was freezing without a clunky AC unit, he was in heaven if you asked him. It felt cozy and he liked that it wasn’t stuffy like his apartment back home, it felt like love. Cold, unspoken care and love.

The tour ended by the time both reached the guest area. The door was open after you swept but things never lasted clean here, the entrance full of dust again. Your grandmother looked tired and apologetic that she couldn’t continue, reassuring him his room was fine, warranting her to yell your name and rushing to her side.

She asks you to show him, motioning for him to follow you with your head. It felt like a full circle when you both hopped down the step from the house to the courtyard. He looked at the threshold he entered through, the door was closed now, decorated with flowers made out of dust, crafted by Ollie when he had free time. Your grandfather sat on a chair near the pen with the young man, eating his bread and smoking a cigarette that he pretends to hide. 

Following you, Jaehyun took notice of the mountain of rocks and flowers near his room. A monument to a holy being he had only seen a few times. It was beautiful, vibrant flowers in comparison to the rocks. Some cactus and critters roam on small trinkets and a river flows up and down each rock.

Jaehyun finds himself behind a wall of jacarandas which cover the entrance to his room. The door unlocks with a screech, Jaehyun, hopeful it was just as inviting as the home only to be shortly disappointed when it felt warm inside and the walls maintained a darker hue. It was newly made, it lacks love.

Sensing his hesitance, your voice aims to distract him. “It’s not much, the bed is new if you must know. My uncle should bring in the TV but in the meantime you have free reign to the boombox or the kitchen’s.” Apologetic smile decorating your face. “You can open the window if it gets hot, Ollie is fixing up the fan. Feel free to go into the house, we don’t mind.” You hope that will help his decision, you’d hate to see him leave.

He wants to thank you with the words stuck in his throat, something you noticed well enough that intensified the feeling that clogged your own. “Um, yeah… New bed, the lamp and main light work, window opens, and you have your own personal bathroom. Unfortunately, the boiler is still very old fashioned so you will have to warm it or boil some water in the chimney to shower.” You hope that repeating yourself will convince him, restraining yourself from begging.

It has its flaws but he has decided not to care. “I’ll take it. It’s still $130 for the month, right?” He smiles boyishly, putting down his suitcases. It gives you a sense of tenderness and relief. You want to sigh and smile, giggle with appreciation. “Don’t worry about that, the room is yours.” You hand him the key, that’s the best you can manage.

His lip slightly juts out and eyebrows furrow with your words. “What do you mean by that? Please, I insist.” He turns to you, taking a step closer, forcing you to bite the inside of your lower lip. “I can double it if you prefer.” He pleads, head tilting to the side with wide eyes. It’s not intentional, he’s unaware of the effects he has on people. He’s scared you’re tricking him to not keep the room, to give it to someone else. Almost like you aren’t finding his presence enjoyable. If only he knew how much you would love for him to stay. 

“It’s not that, trust me.” You walk towards the door, avoidingly. “It’s nice to not be alone. To have someone else around.” Your eyes don’t meet his, he understands. Letting it go, he thanks you in a whisper. “By any chance can I use your phone?” He asks in attempts to change the atmosphere. 

Apologies fill your eyes like previous conversations. “It’s off until Monday.” It’s Wednesday. 

“There’s a little store a block or two from here, not far at all. You can leave from either side, it’s flamboyantly yellow so you won’t miss it.” His excursion to find this place alone will say otherwise. “The name is painted on with neon green, ‘Gaby’s’ it’s called.” You laugh, looking at the expression on his face. He thanks you and follows behind the exit of the room, parting ways. 

Despite the rundown homes and slight deterioration here and there, Jaehyun liked the tranquility and uncertainty in pertinence to the weather. One second he is granted with the warmth of vitamin D, the other he is threatened with the smell of wet dogs. This town had it all, yet none of it interfered with the breeze that calmed him as his hair waltzed around, singing in his ear that he was in the right hands, finally at ease. 

You were right about not missing the store. He can laugh now – he did when taking the final corner, being met with what he felt was covered in buckets of highlighter ink. It was almost comical how opposite the owner was from her lively store and home.

“Good morning.” He mutters, “What are your rates for long distance calls?” She looks at him, pulling out a booklet from the phone company, arms working like it’s a chore. 

“How far?” “Overseas.”

She looks at him through lashes, sighing, flipping another page. 

“$3.56 per minute.”

Jaehyun’s eyes bulge out, nodding frighteningly. The process goes accordingly: she hands him the phone, writes down his name and the location before looking at him to dial on that old dinky home phone. The wires are sticky from tape residue with some edges popping out. It was her mother’s from 1957 but she loves it more than her third born.

He rotates the wheel, hanging up one or three times until he finally gets it. When the other line finally picks up, she starts a timer. “It’ll be quick.” He mentions. “Take your time.” She smiles.

“Hello? Hellooo~.” The voice on the other line calls out, ready to hang up, a pair of blondes far more important than this are waiting for him. “Hyunjoo?” Jaehyun asks, hand clasping the bottom of the phone. “Yeah? Who is this?” His words sound slurred, not enough to call him drunk.

“It’s Jaehyun.”

An eruption of laughter and greetings is heard in the background, smiling at how welcoming it felt, although strange. “Jaehyunie! How are you finding it there? Fun?… You know when Jude showed me the pictures I thought you were crazy for choosing that… place! Do you think you can hold out long?!” He laughs diminishingly, Jaehyun’s smile falters, his heart aching as it usually does when it comes to Hyunjoo. 

He clears his throat, standing straight. “It’s great, I really like it so far and I’ve only seen the house.” He musters a laugh. “Listen, long-distance calls are expensive so I think we should only communicate through letters, okay? I just wanted to call to let you know I was fine.” He’s ready to end the conversation here. It didn’t start how he wanted it and a reminder of his actuality is not what he wants.

“No… no, now wait a minute!” It wasn’t Hyunjoo on the line anymore but Jude, his manager who was far more sober than his publisher. Some tussling and grunting here and there on the other line, Jaehyun sighs looking at how quickly he was pushing three minutes already. 

Eventually Jude got through, scolding the drunkard. “Now what do you mean you won’t call? Don’t be dumb, I need to hear from you!” He bites onto his cigarette, scolding Jaehyun like a small kid, like the child he pretends is his. “It’s too much, Jude. Plus, the house doesn’t have a phone right now so you can’t reach me.” His foot bounces, scoffing like a petulant child proclaiming independence from their family. 

Jude went on a tirade about how it wasn’t good for Jaehyun to go cold on them but the younger one wasn’t hearing it. The entire premise of this trip was to forget about them all so why won’t they let him? “Okay too much time, too much money, bye!” Jaehyun cuts the conversation short, giggling as the yelling got louder. Seizing when the timer hits six minutes and thirty-seven seconds. 

“$24.92.” A wide smile decorates the owner’s rotund face, sticking her hand out. Nothing left but to sigh and hand her the money. 

Jaehyun takes this opportunity to explore the village, mesmerized by the intricacies of carved ornate decorations onto walls and doors. In awe with the obvious distinctions between newly built homes and colonial ones he found far more attractive. Architecture was not his only interest, not when the mocking tango of scent swirls drag him to the plaza. Taunting him with delectable treats and meals at every corner and hall.

If he wanted to fall further in love, then the market currently taking place should do. Colorful carps and music from corner to corner, swaying him through the fabric made halls. Jingles of welcomings and hollering flood the ears of every passerby. Whether he wanted fresh produce, flavored shaved ice, fruit cocktails, clothes, or even toys, Jaehyun could find it all. It reminded him of the swap meet he encountered with his friends once when living in Connecticut years ago. This was surely far more inviting and lively. 

Through his trail around the halls, Jaehyun came to a halt upon seeing you standing before your grandfather on the bench your grandmother’s family had donated. Worry filled your face but the older man’s laughter was far more deafening and comforting. An internal warmth forces your head to turn, spotting him immediately for your eyes to meet.

“Need help?” Jaehyun offers embarrassedly, you deny. Your grandfather is receptive despite your light scolding. “It’s fine, really.” You try but both men insist. “Do you know how to repair cars?” Your grandfather asks, Jaehyun shakes his head apologetically, all which prompts your grandpa to huff and shake his own head.

“The car broke down.” He’s met with another of your apologetic smiles, as if he’s the one being wronged and not you and your grandfather. “I’m just going to finish off the shopping, mind giving him an eye?” You ask Jaehyun, the first favor to be exact and he couldn't be more elated to not feel useless.

It’s shut down by the older of the three, complaining and almost throwing a tantrum over how he didn’t need a babysitter. It wasn’t completely wrong, the entire village knew him so watchful eyes were all around, it’s not like you couldn’t trust him to be on his own. “No, no. Matter of fact, help her with the bags. Go on, look at how heavy they are.” He scolds Jaehyun, throwing away any unfamiliarity out the window. That’s one thing about him, he’s too trusting. 

Like a child in between parents having an argument, Jaehyun didn’t know who to listen to. Fortunately you give up and sigh, motioning with your head for him to follow you. He took a handful of bags from your hand, some left in the care of your grandfather that was well situated on the bench.

He gave you both his blessing, shooing you off to embark in an awkwardly silent walk with nothing but the blaring music vendors played to fill that emptiness. He had so much he wanted to ask, to say, to know what you could teach him about the village or if you knew how he could travel to neighboring ones. He was giddish and that’s all that took for you to turn to him with a smile.

“Quite a bad host, aren’t I? I didn’t even introduce myself.” You giggle, stopping at a stand. “It’s okay, I didn’t either, I’m sorry. I’m Jaehyun.” 

“Y/n,” You give him a quick glance, taking a bag from a vendor. “What are you doing here, anyways? No one comes here for pleasure.” Jaehyun could tell more words hung on the tip of your tongue, ones you swallow down. He didn’t know how to answer. If someone else asked him, he’d mention how he wanted some inspiration, to see what he could bring into fruition but with you his sincere words threatened to spill. 

How could he mutter: “I think I hate my life and those in it, so my manager and publisher shipped me off somewhere I’d be far from that world. I think they just wanted to get rid of me but it’s what I wanted all along…”

“Oh?”

Shit. Just like that. 

“I-I… I didn’t mean to say that.” He scolds himself. This had never happened before, what the hell was that?! Your laughter doesn’t help and he’s scared you’re laughing at his problems. He doesn’t want to believe someone like you could be this cruel.

“It’s okay.” 

That’s not reassuring. “It’s okay. I hated where I was a year ago too, so I was also shipped here.” That’s comforting– somewhat. 

Your shoulders shimmy as you pay for the produce, walking towards another stand. “Granted, my aunt got sick. She was my grandparents' caretaker but it was getting worse and I took the role.” From the depths of your pocket, you pull out some pumpkin seeds, handing him a few for him to crack, not counting with the coating of salt to scald his tongue. 

“She comes back here and there to check in and help but eventually she has to go back for constant checkups. I hadn’t found a job right out of college so this was my next best option and I like it – far more so, I think.” A sincere smile adorns your face; this was comforting.

Things went far more smoothly after that introduction. He told you about his books and what he wanted to do here. He told you about how miserable he felt and how abusive the city seemed to be towards him. You told him that you missed your city but the reality of facing adulthood in the area was weighing down on you. He figured this was your reality escape and although grim on your end, he felt ecstatic for himself. He felt like he finally found exactly what he needed.

The conversation went well with a few laughs here and there until reaching full circle with cups of shaved ice in a bag to take home and yours in hand. Bliss was momentarily gone when you reached the bench and didn’t spot your grandfather. Regardless, it didn’t take long for a seller to let you know his nephew gave him a ride. 

These instances made Jaehyun appreciate your gentleness for your grandparents. Although aware of how you try to hide your emotions from him, the guard falls when it comes to them. It’s admirable.

Noise didn’t break the bubble of silence you remained in until entering the kitchen where your grandfather was sitting at a table already, your grandmother making his coffee while Ollie tired and sweaty relaxed by the door, munching on a candybar he bought when getting the fright remedy. A token of appreciation from your grandfather for the cigarette.

“We didn’t see you, I almost had a heart attack.” You mock reprimand, a smile setting on your face seeing the older man safe and sound. No matter how hard you try to act angry, seeing him eat the rest of his bread while waiting for lunch calms you down. “I’m the old one here, save the ailments for another sixty years.” he cackles, Jaehyun beginning to find comfort in your grandfather’s ability to find humor in anything.

“I think our guest might want out already.” He teases, sneaking a piece from Ollie’s candy. The boy doesn’t protest, doing the same with the shaved ice you brought. Jaehyun felt his ears warm up, nervously denying it with no avail as your grandpa kept insisting with that same laugh. Dying when your grandma scolds him to leave Jaehyun alone.

Jaehyun giggles quietly, shaking his head. “Please believe me. I think it’s beautiful so far.” Your grandma hums, the one to speak is Ollie. “There’s nothing here. What’s beautiful about it?” He shrugs with a scowl. “He hasn’t seen the other towns, give it time, Ol.” You intervene, forcing him to taste test the rice.  

“Well, what if you and Ollie, whenever he can, show…”

“Jaehyun.” You help your grandmother, playfully glaring at the young boy for feedback on the dish. The elderly give each other a quick glance while Ollie makes a mocking thumbs down when he knows the smile on his face says otherwise.

She nods, scooping a spoonful of lard into the pan. “Why don’t you and Ollie show Jaehyun around after your duties. I doubt he wants to stay all hours here.” Jaehyun doesn’t know how to feel. He’s embarrassed, he’s also bashful and feels imposing. “It’s okay, I can manage. I don’t want to overstep.” He nervously chuckles, ears brightening.

“Okay.” You shut him up. He turns to you, silence deafening yet comforting, even when you finally lift your head to look at him, nodding. “It’s okay, just let us know what you want to see.” You’re much calmer than he is, it causes his body to tense despite being thankful with how inviting you are. How inviting you all are, he thinks he can see himself here for longer.

“Thank you.” He meets your eyes with a smile, thankful and glad. It’s reciprocated, knocking down the nonchalant act.

The first outings don’t go past the premises of the village. With planting being the main priority, neither you or Ollie have time to take him anywhere. The younger spent his days working the tractor, taking your grandfather up and down as his mentor despite his own father being there. 

Jaehyun tried to help once but was booted by both men and their laughter. He won’t fault them, he almost ruined a row of freshly planted beans and if he was to learn anything throughout this trip, he’d learn that any grain and imperfection was important enough to ruin the entire harvest. Instead he was left to pavement clearing, making sure no rocks or debris got in the way of vehicles.

The following week he had been left to his vices at home. You had apologetically told him they found assistance and he should enjoy his trip at home. Although there was nothing left to do, not for him at least. Your grandmother wouldn’t let him lift a finger in the kitchen and she didn’t like his cleaning style, leaving it to you if she was busy. 

Ollie had fixed the fan by now. The new motor made the room freeze, mimicking the room temperature of the home. Cold enough that Jaehyun preferred to leave the window open despite the crawlers that woke him at night. Now he contemplates whether he should turn the fan on or sleep with cotton filled eardrums. 

Jaehyun lays in bed, bored and antsy for something to do. The sound of your arguing with animals overpower the boombox next to his head, melodies he didn’t understand.

The fountain pen on his hand never felt far heavier, a sign that he had nothing new to produce. No, the only thing his hand mustered to write was the noises you made. Whatever pertains to you.

“Tutt-tutt.” “Cluth-cluth… No, Constance! Don’t peck me!” “Behhh, behhh! Here, what a cry baby.”

Jaehyun found joy through you and your acts of love.

“Meow, meow, meow! I can do that too! I already fed you, Fina! Gluttony is a sin, you know.”

Days went on like this, it’s repetitious but he doesn’t complain. Past times he’d think what he’s doing now was all he wanted but a mind never rests and his body is antsy for new experiences. He no longer wants to lie and feel the breeze rush through the window to coddle him, forcing the sheer white curtains to dance around for his attention.

Jaehyun tucks away his journal, buttoning up his shirt and slipping on the work boots he bought with only four days here. Full of glee and excitement he bought them to help your grandfather. He reckoned if he was going to get down and dirty then he should be dressed accordingly. 

With pep to his step, Jaehyun makes a beeline towards the pen. What used to be barking of unfamiliarity turned to a simple bark for attention, received with wagging tails. He made sure to pat their heads until reaching the fence, looking at you conversing with Camila, the donkey. 

“Aha and what else did he do?... No! You should’ve kicked him straight in the leg, Cami. He can’t talk to you like that!.” You nod and hum at her playfully, received with brays and nods. Jaehyun doesn’t know what you’re talking about but he’s glad that you’re having fun.

New hay had been brought in the morning, far more greener and fresh which left the old hay to be moved around for maintenance. In the process of such, strays found themselves near the dogs, enough to crunch under his step. Like a deer caught in headlights, Jaehyun stops, ears reddening by the whip of your head and Camila’s blaring bray.

“Hi…” He mutters timidly, cause of your smile. “Hi.” You reciprocate with the softest welcoming. He takes the initiative to approach you, standing a few feet behind. Neither say anything, amused with Camila’s treacherous ways in leaving you to gain his attention. Head bumping onto his hand to mimic the pats he left on the dogs.

Pleased she throws a kick, sending old hay flying towards the lambs and goats that reproach her action. You share a giggle, forcing you two to give each other a quick glance. “I think she likes you.” You mention, “I like her too.” He replies, petting her ears, as red as his. “Well don’t feed her ego, now. It’s already through the roof.” You teasingly scoff, another airy laugh leaves him. 

“Don’t be harsh, I think she needs it. I mean, I don’t know what you two were talking about just now but it seems like she needed her confidence there.” He smiles at you, taking her face into both hands. Your groan makes him wink at Camila, thankful that he’s found something to converse with you. “Her and Ollie–” Camila brays, removing Jaehyun’s touch from her.  “They have such an intense hate-love relationship that his name throws her off, so I’m giving her advice on how to deal with it. Right, Mila?” Understandingly, she nods, seeking your attention again.

“Granted it’s all made up, she’s a little jealous but with you here I think Ollie should take the role.” She brays again, aiming to bite your hand. You get away just in time, sticking your tongue out at her. Jaehyun receives the image with laughter, his chest filled with joy.

He shakes his head, petting hers to calm her down. “No, I don’t want to be responsible for their failure.” You nod, picking up a metal rake. “Mind if I help you? It’s getting boring there…” He’s ashamed to admit it. You sympathize with him, after all when you used to visit you often fell in his shoes.

“Alright, a heads up, this will be messy work.” He nods obediently, eyes shimmering with their natural gloss and the sun’s reflection. 

Darn him and his cuteness! 

Blinking the thought away you hand him a broom and the rake. “Here, hold these while I tie up this  maniac.” Your eyes squint meeting those of the ram that tackled you when he arrived. His own mimicking yours, it was on and he knew it. 

With rope in your hand, test swings approaching the pen’s door, the beast starts to test the waters. Three…two…one! What ensues is a battle between both, Jaehyun trying his best to help. He envisioned that this rivalry is what Ollie and Camila had, he’d witness it a few days prior. The only exception that you and Whitey hated each other to the core. He never knew why. 

After a few falls and tugs here and there, you two managed to get him in the isolation pen. Scoffing and laughing as he settles on newly clean hay. While he relaxes, you both huff and hold onto the fence, wiping away any remnants of sweat. “Ready to work?” You question, Jaehyun felt like this was enough. Unfortunately it’s only the beginning.

With free and safe reign to go inside the pen, you lay out the map of where to go and be careful. The wall to the neighbors cooped the chickens. It was the time they laid eggs so cleaning it would be held off until a few days later. On the opposite side to the street, roosters had their own coups. 

“All you have to do is separate the poop from the hay, that’s what the rake is for.” Jaehyun figured you felt apologetic for the task as the look you gave him when presenting the room manifested itself onto your face. If you only knew that he’d never say no to you.

He mutters an ‘alright’ with his brilliant smile, reassuringly. “While you do that,” you watch him struggle, “I’ll clean this one.” Your voice slowed, concentrated on how to maneuver. You referred to the pen around a large cactus. He didn’t give it much thought when you went in, he also felt it wouldn’t be that hard, the livestock discard balls for goodness sake.

He had the confidence that died along the way he swept and raked. For small balls they were pungent and he wasn’t handling it well, the uncovered smell of piss added to it. You try not to laugh when he gagged or turned around so you wouldn’t see him cover his face but it was becoming hard.

Endearing is the word you’re thinking of, even when he perceives it as mockery that his face falls into a pout when he hears your laughter. “Please don’t laugh at me.” He practically begs, head lifting for a waft of fresh air before pushing old disgusting hay into a trash bag.

“I’m sorry,” A laugh escapes. “It’s good I’m the one here, I wouldn’t doubt Ollie tormenting you if it was him here.” Jaehyun agrees, the difference being that he wouldn’t care for Ollie's ridicule, he’d play along and try his best to improve. He cares for your opinion which is far different. 

“He did enough during harvest.”  “I heard.”

Silence befalls as you continue, the sun seems to have hidden behind clouds for the time being. 

“I’m sorry you’re not having a good time.” You broke the peace, his ears perking at the condolence lacing your voice. “I know you wanted an escape and I’m sorry I haven’t been of much help.” He couldn’t believe his ears. Why are you blaming yourself for something that should only matter to him? He has free will and range to get up and take the next taxi or bus to neighboring towns. You shouldn’t blame yourself for his decisions.

Escapism might not have come to him in the way intended but everyday has become a new experience for him. “Don’t… I promise that even picking up droppings is something new for me.” He rebuttals your claim, mirroring the same apologetic look you give him. “Y/n… I’ve been coddled all my life, this entire experience has been a new step for me and I feel like Bambi, positively.” He smiles, widely enough that it’s the first time you notice his deep dimples.

You sigh, unsure if it’s from relief, pash, or in between. 

“Yeah, okay… I was in your shoes too when I began to stay as a caretaker. I’ve done all of this when I would visit but it was not as intense as it is now. I don’t mind, I’m here to help. I have to.” It sounds melancholic and he’s not sure how to interpret it.

Avoiding it you look around to see he’s done a good job. You’re actually very well impressed, the words that were meant to leave your mouth surely were appreciative but they’re shoved back down your throat when you attempt to stand up. It’s almost like his presence dumbifies you. Like you forget the world around you, manifesting itself in your careless and clueless actions like resting your open hand on a cactus while trying to stand up just to bring him comforting words. 

Instead he’s met with your yelp as you prick your hand, head, and shoulder in the process of standing and tumbling down. Whitey’s karma has served you, he bleats mockingly when you keep on hurting yourself within the premise of his home. 

Instinctively Jaehyun rushes to you, concerned and scared of what this could illicit. He isn’t safe of Whitey’s wrath, not when he helped you and has decreed the young brunette is of your interest. Rushing to your aid, Jaehyun doesn’t count on one of the sheep to leave her droppings on the path he’s taking. Fresh and new, it wasn’t difficult for Jaehyun to find himself slipping straight into the cactus that has served your own aches.

They say laughter is the best medicine. Both you and Jaehyun attempt it when your eyes meet but the throbbing is far more intense that you synchronize in wailing. Loud and tuneless, enough to drag out your grandmother from the kitchen and force laughter out of Ollie and your grandfather who were arriving from their daily duties.

Camila doesn’t stay too behind in her own laughter. You fear all the livestock was against you two or perhaps rooting for you in the most vicious way. It’s rotten to know this is the start of your shared misery and ache.

The accident had forced your grandparents to make it up to you both the following day. Early in the morning your grandfather drove you all to a neighboring town. Ollie groggily dragged himself out of his home despite his father’s complaints that he was being a burden. You reassured him he was always welcomed, your grandfather scolded his dad. Yelling at him to stop trying to force ideas in the boy’s head. 

Jaehyun had taken in the scenery on his taxi drive although he’s convinced something is different this time. Aside from your grandfather teasing everyone when driving along the edge of the mountains, Ollie clinging to you ready to cry as if he didn’t surpass all of you in height.

It takes roughly an hour and a half to arrive at the destination and almost another to find parking they eventually found was free and available behind a cathedral. Everyone laughs at each other for missing it when minutes prior your grandfather was ready to turn the car around, hangry and annoyed at how this damn town was overcrowded with no parking spots.

For once he felt like an actual tourist, visiting the restaurant you all loved and gorging himself with the most delicious meal he’s ever tasted in his life – besides his mother’s cooking, of course! For reassurance, she will witness how happy he looked while eating through the picture you managed to snap of him.

After the meal, your grandparents attempted to walk for digestion but age made them give up as soon as you all reached the town’s plaza. It wasn’t a rare occurrence, you saw no problem with it, they’re together. All they asked was to bring them those donuts they loved dearly and a soda to share. Ollie took it in his hands to beat you to it. Now there you and Jaehyun stood looking at the elderly couple sat before you.

At the time it didn’t feel like a scheme but looking back at it, Jaehyun is sure you figured it out as well. 

Despite the accident, you both went back to the timidness that sheltered you both. Stolen glances and polite smiles when caught, stopping here and there to take pictures of the architecture and culture. He wouldn’t tell you, but a good portion were candids of you. You look so pretty that he could not avoid capturing the only remnants of you he could keep. 

Both try small talk, history pointers whenever reaching old buildings – most consisted of luring him away from hustlers. You’d laugh after every successful attempt and reward yourself with street snacks that he’d find too salty or too sweet, still delicious enough to risk getting scolded by his physician if it meant enjoying the wonders of life.

The day might have ended with shy conversations and laughs but both could testify that comfort is what surrounded you most. On his end he felt safe and secure, comfortable enough to laugh at anything you said because in whatever way he looked at it, your presence forced glee onto him. Warmth and comfort is what you would best describe it as and that’s what you have learnt care feels like.

Your grandmother began going easy on you after the accident and outing. You felt like a teenager visiting your grandparents again with how little she left for you to do and how she forced you to go out more often. Encouraging you to enjoy your summer as well while showing Jaehyun around.

Jaehyun is sure this was her way to make both of you appreciate the limited shared time. He’s thankful enough for it but bitter towards himself for losing some weeks at the start.

You began showing him around other towns. On times you went grocery shopping and he’d beat you to paying for it (his form of appreciation), he’d throw in a peach or two. His favorite, you figured. 

At the neighboring market, he’d buy fridge magnets, five for the price of a large one. All which represented his favorite snacks he’s consumed during these days. You still remember teasing him for buying a mini replica magnet of a beer bottle. Later at home while rocking on a chair he showed you a layout of how he’d arrange them on his fridge. In the meantime, you helped him decorate the door to his room, enjoying the air the fan blew at both.

When it rained, Ollie forced both to dance under the cold drops. Enjoy life as you should, he justified. At night, he’d dragged you both to the night market. Showing Jaehyun his favorite drinks and laugh when you scold him for drinking like an old man with kidney issues. He would joke about you and Jaehyun being his parents and would even grab your hands to skip in between both when it was so easy for him to drag you down. Damn him and his tall genes.

He’d drag the joke far enough to reach home where your grandparents never missed the opportunity to throw in a “Take your brat with you.” whenever Ollie was available and you were to show Jaehyun around. Neither of you minded, Ollie was silent enough to let you two bask in each other’s presence and playful enough for you two to feel at ease and content. 

In another universe, this would reign true and not a fragment of a life you’re all creating that was never to bloom.

After three months the festivities had reached your village and vendors from all around the country settled by the plaza. Intrigued at first and fascinated by what they sold, poor Jaehyun fell victim to one of the home goods sellers. Spending a large amount buying your grandmother some pots, pans, a set of dishes, and stools as a token of appreciation. He went overboard but was happy to help, blinded by the cheap prices. Jaehyun should’ve known something was off, he knows you would have talked him out of it but you had been arguing with another vendor that they took advantage of the painfully obvious foreigner in the meantime.

When arriving home and seeing he had been robbed, you got ready to argue and force them to give him his money back. He protested despite being defeated and sad he was swindled. He convinced you but not your grandparents and Ollie. The three had taken matters into their own hands while you two fetched salt blocks to replace in the pen. By the time you got back, Ollie’s hair was far more ruffled than usual and his face red while your grandfather laughed, taking a sip of his beer, clanking it with your grandmother’s. On the kitchen bar, Jaehyun’s money was laid out. Every single cent and interest returned to him, money he used to invite all to dinner and dessert with a gift of their choice.

Ollie wore his tonight. Gleefully trotting through the threshold of the gate, careful to not scuff the boots Jaehyun gladly bought while singing to gain attention. Jaehyun laid on bed, scribbling his thoughts on his days, one-liners here and there and far more of the noises you’ve made. In addition the lyrics to the song Ollie sang before your grandmother told him to stop before he ate a fly.

Fireworks had been going off all day and neighbor’s music loudened with their gates open. This wasn’t new but it seemed to be far more intense today out of all days. “Why aren’t you ready? You’re not going to the fair?” Ollie questions, out of breath and frantic to see your grandparents sitting on their chairs enjoying today’s weather with a cup of soda in one hand and pastries in the other. 

Talks about a fair had not gone in deaf ears throughout the past three weeks but Jaehyun paid it no mind when he saw that no one else seemed concerned – besides Ollie. It seemed to be a big thing when he noticed more carps, games, and rides fully covering the plaza.

“Don’t think we will be going, Ol. Their knees hurt.” Your voice manifests itself, forcing Jaehyun to sit up and put away his journal. You had been doing some chores outside his room. Hanging laundry and watering the plants, the product of everything he’s written and attempted to draw today.

He follows outside, Ollie greets him, a mischievous smile on his lips forming an idea. “Why not? I’ll drive if you want! Do it for Jaehyun, he’s never going to experience this again.”

Ollie’s childish intuition strikes again, this time in the form of a gash against both of your chests. 

You both knew it was true but reality is what Jaehyun wanted to escape and you had made sure to enable him. It just so happens that you have fallen victim to it as well.

No matter, he said he wanted to stay months so it should still be far along in the future. You think so… you implore.

Perceptive is a word to describe your grandparents. Despite their ache they figure it is not as big as the one brewing in the depths of your conscious and heart. As best as they can, they agree with the younglin and head inside to get ready.

Ollie is ecstatic, he’s always been a fan of these things but now that he was of age, he could enjoy it more with a drink or two. Not to mention things like these are grounds for finding partners and like any town boy who hasn’t found one, he’s looking forward to it. That’s what he tells you and Jaehyun at least but he knows he’ll spend his night looking after your grandparents, far more giddy about you two together.

He had been smart enough to put cinder blocks early in the morning in a parking spot front and center from the fair, forcing Jaehyun out of the car to move and put them behind the car once he parked so no one would block them. Perfect was his plan that once everyone got out of the car, his friends that occupied a bench scattered like roaches to give their seat to your grandparents. Both elders find it comical seeing right through Ollie. 

Arriving just in time for the parade, all queen candidates drove around in their elaborately decorated transportation. Colors flying around similar to their presentation favors, many which ended up hitting both Jaehyun and Ollie in the head. The older of the two made sure to take pictures of it while Ollie complained, claiming he was glad he didn’t vote for whoever hit him. The new reigning queen didn’t appear until the end. It was far more of a social economic competition. Whoever paid more won therefore it wasn’t surprising when a queen from years prior won again.

“You should’ve signed up, you would’ve won, Y/n.” Ollie elbows you, received with an eye roll. “Right, Jaehyun?” That devious brat, always finding a way to make you miserable. You try not to turn to Jaehyun, yet his gaze is so intense that it forces you to do so slowly. His face, decorated with that usually wide smile that emphasized his dimples, eyes squinting in glee when yours finally meet his. Candidness and benevolence lacing his voice.

“Yes, you would have won, Y/n.” 

That was enough footing for Ollie to shoo both of you away, promising to take care of your grandparents while you had fun. Your attempts at protest are futile, your grandparents helping Ollie in his mission. Buying the three something to eat in the process before parting ways, promising it’ll be fast.

It’s not fast, it’s a brisk walk that both you and Jaehyun enjoy. Struggling to not lose each other within the masses going opposite or in the same direction. He jokes about feeling like a meerkat in a sea of gazelles, you laugh but he’s sure you don’t find it funny. At least he’s glad you humor him.

You entertain him through food. Buying tornado potatoes, plain and simple. He mentions having eaten these when he lived in Connecticut. You ask him about the state and what it’s like, you’re not too thrilled nor believe him when he says it’s boring. As an attempt to remove the connection, you drizzle hot sauce on one half of the potatoes. Scared but willing to try it, Jaehyun lets you feed him the first broken off bit. It’s enjoyable at first, soon his face blends with the lights behind him. Red and bright as he begins to cough. Now he will only think of this when it comes to the snack.

You both laugh at it, as an apology you buy him a drink. A piña colada for him and a michelada for you, it should work enough to ease both of your bashfulness. He couldn’t eat anything from the drizzled side, leaving those for you whilst he munched on the dry. Giving you sips here and there from his drink to cool down the fire in your mouth. He teases you for choosing a spicy drink when you’re eating far more spice, receiving him with an eye roll and “You don’t know what life is about.”

Finishing that, he dragged you to a game. You’d like to think he found it far more odd because of the mini stripper animatronics in the center of all the glass bottles but he reassures you the life-size gremlin doll pissing on people was more alluring – and disturbing. It didn’t stop him from attempting to win a decrepit pale Winnie the Pooh bear.

He had spent a good amount of time trying for it, towards the end he required your help. You had been nagging him throughout the entire game to not spend more money on the game, that it was most likely rigged but when it was your turn and managed to burst all bottles, then it became a skill issue. 

Jaehyun mopped about it, you figured the bear would bring him comfort. He held it for seconds to soon return it with a bright smile. You try rejecting it, he had been fighting hard for it so it was confusing why he didn’t want it. You thought it had to do with the principle of the winner takes it all; it wasn’t the case. 

He confessed he had wanted to get it for you and only felt bummed that he wasn’t able to but that you should keep it irregardless as a token of his appreciation and care for you, to give your Garfield some company. The moment would’ve been sweet if the booth attendant didn’t make that stupid doll spritz it’s faux piss your way, forcing you to flee while cursing him out with laughs in between.

That was the beginning of your journey through halls and carps, stepping out here and there to get on children’s rides that warrant glares from parents. Jaehyun joked about dragging Ollie so he could ride the caterpillar rollercoaster with him and have you take pictures of a father with his kid. Jaehyun is now playing along with the fantasy Ollie has created. You don’t know whether to laugh or let the ache in your heart manifest.

You end at the ferris wheel only a few feet away. In the process of calming each other’s laughter, the noises of people and music filled the silence. Comforting as the day you met, walking through the market and buying produce for that day’s meal. It makes Jaehyun think about how far you two have gone. How one little incident with a cactus has led to having the time of your lives nearing the highest point of the ride.

You’ve felt the warmth and softness of his touch. Felt his care and appreciation through every little act yet you yearn and crave for more from him. Your body and soul know there is more both can offer, although frightened that you’ve misinterpreted his lingering gazes and gestures.

“When I was younger my mom had decided that we would spend every summer with my grandparents and aunt. I hadn’t been here since I was five for her grandpa’s funeral so it meant nothing the first few weeks. The first year, even.”

Jaehyun turns, intrigued. “Then when my mom would make the long distance calls and send letters, my grandpa would joke around how I didn’t want to visit them at all – that I hated it here, similar to how he does with you. I didn’t hate it, I think I just wasn’t familiar with the lifestyle in comparison to back home where I don’t have to worry about if there’s hot running water.”

His hand inches closer to you. “In attempts to prove him wrong, I spent my time here helping him with the animals, going grocery shopping with him and my cousins and it drew me closer to this. After the second summer, we spent Christmas here too and the weather killed me but they seemed so happy that I joined.” 

Your laugh comforts him. He thinks about the times he’s attempted to help and failed your grandparents, it only dawns upon him that things take time and he shouldn’t dwell on them too much.

“Then in my last summer of college, I had taken an internship that promised a job right out of college– obviously it was a lie, I’m here.” You laugh bitterly. “I missed time with my family and my grandma ended up in the hospital. I felt so guilty the remainder of the year, even during winter break. I felt like it was my fault, that my absence was the small piece of the puzzle that could ruin it all.”

Jaehyun felt and heard the remorse in your voice, he felt the need to find a way to ease it with no avail, feeling as inutile as when the ram tackled you. It’s imprinted in his brain that no matter what, it will weigh on his shoulders that he’s not able to help no matter how much he tries.

“And I think the universe is funny and cruel enough that when the internship dropped me and said all vacancies were occupied, my aunt was the one to fall ill next. Forcing her back home with her own family. It was its way to make it up to me, as horrible as it sounds.”

You share a sigh, he takes your hand in his, reassuringly. You don't want comfort words, he knows that, he knows this is enough for you. “I think what I first felt when visiting is what you feel now with the exception that you actually have so much to do out there…” Jaehyun’s actions halt, lifting his head to look at your sorrow filled eyes.

He shakes his head, trying to convince himself and you. He clings to the delusion everyone helped create in hopes to be good hosts. He still has time, Jaehyun has time, he wants to believe it so please don’t shatter his joy so quickly, please!

“It’s okay, Jaehyun. You have to publish your book, we’ll always be here for you as they’ve been for me.” He’s not too sure how true that is. Life is never consistent nor forgiving, he’s learnt that in harsh ways. People’s care is conditional and based on time and familiarity, he’s been at the end of that stick.

Your hand takes purchase on his cheek, consoling him for what you have just said. You didn’t intend to cause this but you have to prepare yourself for what you’ve known all along. “I don’t think I want to go back and risk anything.” He mutters, eyes softening the longer he looks at you, the ride feels endless.

“You must… All there is for you here is inspiration.” They’re meant to comfort him but it feels more like you’re trying to convince yourself that you’ll be fine when he leaves. Jaehyun’s lips part ready to speak, words muted by the fireworks going off. Midnight has hit, it’s a brand new day and it’s received with pyrokinetic colors that aim to diffuse the pain he feels.

They illuminate your face, a smile forming in awe of how pretty they look. Not as pretty as you, Jaehyun is sure of that the longer he stares with the same smile on his face you adore. “I’ve found the life I needed all along.” His touch on your cheek brings you back to him, dumbfounded with what he meant. Inquiries answered upon feeling his lips softly land on yours.

Hands softly cradle your face, eyelashes tickling your cheek as you get a taste of him. It’s so soft and tender that you want to be here for the rest of the night, drowning the noises around you. If you’ve felt heaven before, it doesn’t compare to being with him like you are now. 

The crowded path didn’t feel claustrophobic, like it was just you two in the sea of booths, fluorescent lights and fireworks. The music drowned, his grasp on you doing its best to keep you with him for whatever time is left for you two.

He hadn’t noticed at what point you both had gone back until Ollie stepped in between you two. “So? Did you like it?” The giddy young boy questions, a bottle of beer in his hand, compliments from his cousin – your grandparents with their own as well, watching. Jaehyun nods, glancing at you. “More than anything.” He smiles widely, hypnotizing dimples present. 

Ollie giggles, a chant as he jumps near your grandparents telling them something that neither of you manage to hear, distracted by the shocking ice-cold bottle shoved into your hands. Your grandfather had been talking to your grandmother, both laughing about judgments thrown at people around them. Mean, yes, but it’s not often that they bond about things anymore.

The elder’s leg had been bouncing as they talked, cackling in the process of drowning whatever was left in the bottle. Jaehyun took notice of this, turning to the group playing up on stage a few feet away. People around were dancing, some seemed to enjoy themselves, others not too much – the only thing that mattered was the ambient and showing face. 

Jaehyun approaches your grandpa, asking if he was having a good time. The older of the two nodded, responding by showing the new bottle Ollie handed him. You scold both of them to not drink too much but they shush you. “It’s a party, Y/n. Liven up.” Ollie laughs, alcohol having gotten into his stream, demonstrated on how clumsily he clinks his bottle with yours and everyone else's. “Come on, let’s dance instead.” Pulling you in for a quick little shuffle. He’s not a great dancer, he knows it. He also knows his joy brings joy to your grandparents and you’ll do anything for them to maintain it.

You entertain Ollie, dancing despite him having already stepped on you multiple times. Apologizing with whines and puppy eyes that make you laugh. You push him off after a while, helping your grandfather up so he could dance with you. He’s overjoyed, finally having the opportunity to do what he loves so much, a pity your grandmother is the opposite. She’s content enough with just watching.

Jaehyun smiles, laughing in glee at how the ambient fuels his emotions. His own body swaying ever so slightly, brain trying to formulate how to dance to music he’s never heard. He thinks he gets it, it doesn’t seem too hard but he could be proven wrong and become Ollie’s mirror.

Your grandmother, ever so insightful, watches with a glint of content with how well he has adapted to the culture. Although, far more interested in the way his eyes don’t leave you. His ears are red, brighter than the light illuminating the stage and the municipal office. Jaehyun may try to hide how he feels, you may try, but she’s older and wiser. She’ll always know when love is around.

“Go ask her for a dance.” She elbows him to catch his attention, Jaehyun had been holding your grandfather’s seat. The mention alone caused his ears to brighten, crimson migrating to his face. He tries not to smile, it so happens to be that his muscles are treacherous and they emphasize the lines of his smile, deepening those dimples you love. 

Jaehyun shakes his head. Convince her that it’s okay, that he would rather watch, something she won’t allow. “Don’t coward away. When’s the next time you’ll get the chance?” Jaehyun ignores the heavy meaning of her words, he prefers to ignore the reality that slowly creeps in. Regardless, he nods, taking in the other point of view. He thanks her with a smile, standing up to walk towards you. Sacks of nervousness weighing him down, making his hands sweat.

“Mind if I take her from you?” Jaehyun clears his throat, head tilting, pleading. The older man cackles, pure and utter joy that Jaehyun has made a move. Frantically he nods, agreeing by pushing you towards the brunette who seems just as ecstatic as your grandfather. Given persimmon, Jaehyun takes your hand in his. Awkwardly figuring out how else he should position himself.

You watch amusedly, hiding your smile by pressing your lips together as if your cheeks and eyes were not a dead giveaway. “What makes you think I wanted to dance with you?” You tease, correcting where his hands and feet should go. The smile you try hard to hide slowly creeps in. Jaehyun doesn’t mind exposing his own, giggling when you begin to lead. “What’s this then?” He plays along, moving his feet and knees according to what he had examined. Raising your shoulders in a shrug, you don’t hold back your smile, a giggle following. “A lesson.” 

The dance doesn’t go smoothly, you have to teach him between laughs, both yours and his with your family’s in the background but he manages. Even if you all think his dancing is horrible, as bad as Ollie’s, the younger one takes the opportunity to capture you two dancing with Jaehyun’s camera. If there’s something to remember, it is this night and the love that has finally come into fruition.

The flash blinds you, stopping you two from dancing and even though Ollie whines for you two to continue, you both claim your feet ache. It’s not a lie on your end but the coyness from your family seeing you with a potential partner is a bigger deal.

It’s past two in the morning, obvious in the way your grandparents hide their yawns from your view, hoping to not ruin your night further. “Want to go home?” You walk towards them, a hand on your hip and genuine concern on your face. They admit they are tired but don’t want to go home no matter how much you insist. Ollie offers to drive them home while you and Jaehyun stay back longer but you’ve been away from them this entire night that you cannot fathom the idea any longer.

Ollie and your grandparents can try to convince you with the same story about Jaehyun’s limited time but that wasn’t going to work now. No, you stick to your guns and manage to get them in the car. Ollie had drank far more than all of you so he wasn’t apt to drive, instead Jaehyun volunteered, something that had excited your grandfather the most.

After removing the cinder blocks and putting them back in the trunk, Ollie walks towards your window, bidding everyone goodnight. You nag him, worried that he was drinking too much. He receives you with an “Okay, mom!”, the same phrase he’s been throwing around ever since Jaehyun had reached a month’s stay. It managed to get a laugh out of your grandparents, even from you and Jaehyun but it didn’t change that you still lightly swat his hand. “I’m serious, Ollie. Don’t drink anymore, stay back a bit but not too late, Okay?” 

The worry in your eyes makes him relent, nodding before kissing your cheek goodnight and shaking Jaehyun’s hand. The interaction forced a smile on his face, every single aspect of your tenderness making him melt more.

As the moon is his witness, Jaehyun has fallen in love with this village and you. Gracious the stars are that once you manage to get your grandparents in bed and meet Jaehyun in the kitchen, the two of you quietly make your way outside with nothing but moonlight to illuminate you.

“Want some coffee?” You ask, fingers familiarizing themselves with the texture of those yellow walls. “Do you not want to sleep?” He laughs, taking those same fingers to familiarize with the tenderness of his lips. The action makes your breath hitch. 

“Perhaps…”

His eyes meet yours, inching closer to capture your lips in another tender kiss. His hands find purchase on your waist, your arms wrap around his shoulders. It’s sweet and soft, his tongue managing to slip in your mouth to waltz with your own. The soft muscle forces a delighted sigh, one that he swallows graciously.

When neither can hold it for much longer, you separate, smiling like two fools. “So no coffee, then?” You laugh, one he reciprocates with a nod. “Too bitter, not as sweet as you.” The flirtatious remark is received with a laugh.

“You’re so cheesy.” You claim. “It’s worth it if it makes you laugh – it’s what I like to hear everyday.”

Jaehyun’s expression is serious, the adoration in his eyes letting you know how he feels. He may not pin a word to it but you can see his yearning and longing. You try to be in the same cloud he is in, to ignore the dooming reality but you can’t. You appreciate his affection and you reciprocate it but you also don’t want to become delusional.

“Jaehyun…” Your head drops, avoiding his look. He thinks he’s done something wrong and it aches horribly. “Yeah?” He squeaks meekly, head moving in hopes to see your eyes, to understand how the atmosphere became so somber. “How serious are you about this? You know how things are an–” 

“Don’t… Please don’t bring that up.” He begs, eyes shutting, no longer in need to understand what you meant. “You can’t act like you don’t have a life outside of here. You may stay all you want but eventually you will go back – there’s more to life than this for you.” Your head lifts, vulnerability not as heavy as his.

He tries to drown out your words, this night has gone too well for things to fall off already. He doesn’t want it to be bittersweet. Sure he can stay all he wants until it’s time to publish his book but he will come back so why are you being so cruel to him?

“Nothing compares to this, Y/n.” He holds your hands, hoping his warmth lets you know how much you’re hurting him but also how much he loves you. You shake your head, a small smile of unbelievability. “You’ve been here for three months, that’s still fine and dandy. It’s not like truly living here.” 

His eyebrows furrow, refusing to listen. “But you still love it here. I don’t know what you’re trying to get at.” His voice quivers, frightened that this is your way of ripping his heart out.

You sigh, squeezing his hands. “I do, I love it but I also think that I’ve been looking at this place through the same glasses you’re looking through. What I’m getting at is that, in the long run you’ll get bored, everyone I know has and they’ve left… Who knows, maybe even Ollie will leave and it’ll leave me here because no matter how hard I try to make a life out there, it doesn’t love me back.”

Jaehyun was perplexed, eyes scanning your face. He knows you’re projecting, that you don’t want to get attached despite already having done so, he hopes you could see inside him to understand that he doesn’t ever want to leave. He doesn’t want to leave you.

His hands cradle your face, kissing your eyelids, cheeks, nose, and lips for reassurance. “I can always come back. After publishing whatever I have in hand, I will always come back. You are the life that I needed all along, Y/n.” His whisper is heavy and sincere, the glimmer in both your eyes, evidence to what both feel.

Words don’t describe what you two feel, no matter how heavy they hang on your tongues. No, it’s best that you share it in another tender kiss that the stars and moon witness. Both end the conversation, convinced that the love you two port is stronger than the universe’s will.

Quick glances and kisses are stolen for the following weeks, everyone knows what both feel but it’s more exciting if you pretend as if this love is forbidden despite the encouragement and approval of your family. Ollie teases you two about the brewing romance, pretending to act like he didn’t say anything regarding it when you correct him that nothing is happening. It’s like a game for all of you, one that you all indulge in for the sake of excitement.

You had all agreed upon visiting a thermal spring this morning, the drive was somewhat long and it was best to arrive before other people did. Ollie was the most excited about it, he had begged his family to let him go for days until they agreed. It just so happens to be that the universe doesn’t often like to see him happy; you don’t appreciate that.

Ollie had arrived with a glum look on his face, saddened eyes when he sat in his usual seat next to the chimney. Jaehyun approached him with a cup of hot chocolate and a pat to his head. Your grandma didn’t take long to question the reason behind his state but he only sighed.

“They moved the pension collection to today. The offices will be closed until next month for remodeling so you two have to go in before the line gets long.” His lip juts out, looking at everyone with puppy eyes. 

You ruffle his hair, rubbing his back comfortingly. “We can go tomorrow, Ollie. Don’t worry…” You mimic his pout, his head rests on your hip, pressure tickling your hip bone. “No… Dad is taking me with him out of town for a few weeks to help with the ranch that hired him.” He doesn’t dare look at anyone. It’s not the first time he was taken to different places in the country but when they came back his dad usually kept Ollie locked in for a while until he became unbearable to keep in. It’s as if he relishes in your joint misery.

Jaehyun throws you a look, looking for ways to solve this crisis. He knows you don���t like the news, he hates them too. He’s grown so fond of Ollie that knowing he’s the first to go is causing a small turmoil in his chest. Sure, he may be back and Jaehyun will still be here but one never knows how things may turn out. 

“What if you and Jaehyun go? I have to take my grandparents for their pension so you two enjoy.” Ollie wishes things were that easy but his childish intuition fears that time is coming short and if you don’t spend more time with Jaehyun, he’ll feel guilty for whatever ending comes.

Ollie shakes his head, standing up. “No, it’s fine. You and him go. I’m going to take my dad anyway so I can take them too.” He attempts to smile even if he can’t. It dawns upon you that missing the trip isn’t his concern but not seeing any of you for God knows how long is what’s killing him. 

You try to deny, shake your head in protest. Jaehyun does so as well, it’s not that he doesn’t want time alone with you but knowing this is his last day with Ollie for a while is killing him. Your grandparents hadn’t said anything up until this point. They weren’t fond of swimming, they never did.

“Ollie is right, you two go.” Your grandmother spoke, standing to grab her purse. “I can’t leave you two, what if you need help?” You attempt and they protest, your grandfather jumping in by throwing in Jaehyun’s limited time. It seems they’re all far more in tune with reality than you two.

You don’t know how or when but they managed to convince you and Jaehyun to go. Both attempted to protest and cancel the trip all together but here you were, in your grandfather’s old and chipped red ford. The seats torn apart, a blanket hiding away its imperfections. The red leather of the dashboard hot under Jaehyun’s touch, its form of showing that you two being left alone was real.

That now you didn’t have to talk through a window in the bathroom to spend some alone time. You didn’t have to climb on the sink and hit your head on the roof just to see his face through the mangled chicken wire and be received by concrete flakes on your lips and eyelashes whenever you attempt to kiss through it. No, here you were able to hold hands and kiss without fear of being caught (even if it didn’t matter – everyone knew).

The roads were messy and bumpy, dirt flew all around which forced you to keep the windows rolled-up despite the sun’s rays being hotter than the actual weather. Worse off is that once he came out of the truck, a gust of cold breeze rained upon him. Showing him everything he had missed while struggling with heat and keeping dust out of your airways. 

It was a reward but also mockery, to him at least because you remained unphased, rejoicing on how lonely it was. “Reckon everyone is getting their pension, too?” You ask, hands on your hips, ripping some overgrown grass by your feet to make sure no venomous critters are around.

Jaehyun shrugs, letting his focus remain on his surroundings. It was amazing for him to see how deserted and destroyed this place was. Overgrown yellowing grass that stray cattle eat, ruins of houses from colonial towns signaling the fleeing of whoever had inhabited them before; your grandfather had later explained that the location was a town destroyed in the process of gaining independence.

What was prettier to him was the body of water he was here for. Multiple trees around, so green and alive in comparison to the remaining vegetation. The water is so clear and warm that he could see the steam rise the closer he got.

“Like it?” You question, to his side with towels on your shoulders. Jaehyun’s head whips, a smile on his face upon reaching for your hand, “It’s beautiful.” His fingers interlace with yours, camera in hand positioning it an arms length away when he takes the initiative to lean down and kiss you, capturing it all on film.

You shove him playfully, rushing to a dry rock where you can leave your possessions. He chases after you, removing his shirt and unbuttoning his pants. Your instinct to look away is something he does not miss and it causes a blush to creep up on his face.

He takes in the temperature of the water with his feet. Jumping back when he realizes it’s hotter than what he’s experiencing right now. “It’s not that bad.” You call out, pulling down on the bottoms of your dress swimsuit. Your smile softly falters when he doesn’t respond, rather his attention is set on how pretty you look.

The trees sway, leaving empty slots for the sunrays to seep through, illuminating you. Seemingly purposely done, to put you on a pedestal for him to look at with nothing else but admiration. That blush he had earlier rose again, one he’ll pretend is due to the water’s temperature.

“What are you looking at?” You tease, smile back on. Jaehyun approaches you with a shrug, shirt unbuttoned halfway. His fingers thread over the fabric of the straps, such a pretty lace decorated with satin red ribbon forming a bow at the front. “You.” He smiles, warm fingers touching your arms in hopes to feel closer than he already is in all senses. You don’t respond but he’s aware that the look you give him is fond.

Your hands mimic his, finding their way to his shirt and helping him undo the last few buttons, pushing off the linen to free his flesh and let it be kissed by the breeze – something you can only wish for. Once off you toss it to the pile of clothes and towels, cocking your head for him to follow you into the water. It’s glistening and steaming, soothing once his feet acclimate.

Silent sounds escape both, little by little submerging yourselves – your hands not letting go in any instance. “My mom and aunt loved to come here. They’re hypochondriacs – at least my mom is– always claiming a trip here was healing, holistic. Forcing my grandparents to put their feet in at least so the warmth would take away any aches.” Jaehyun could see how your free hand rubbed at your knees, mimicking their action. 

“Pretty sure they take from my grandma but my grandpa was more of a people pleaser so he’d tell them he felt much better just so they wouldn’t feel bad. I don’t really see how this can take away all your aches. I get that it can help temporarily but not permanently.” Your shrug and words may tell him so but Jaehyun can tell that your vigorous rubbing at your own joints was a form of subconsciously believing them.

“Maybe… It seems like a mutual interaction of comfort and understanding. Your mom and aunt try their best for their parents to feel better about their bodies wearing down and in turn they receive praise and appreciation from them.” 

Your hand stops its action, looking up at him with a hum. “I guess so.” You mutter, letting go of him to float on your back. “The writer in you just had to make it so philosophical.” he can hear the smile on your lips, your feet playfully kicking some water onto him to which he laughs, responding by splashing you too. Calling a truce when he was winning this battle.

As a way to comfort, he pulls you in for a hug. Your back to his chest, head resting on his shoulder and holding onto a railing to not float away far deeper. If it was for Jaehyun, he’d love to stay like this until it was time to go. For once in this entire trip you two have been truly left alone. No more sneaking kisses and late night talks through the bathroom window. It was just you and him an hour away from civilization with only the cattle as witness to the love you two didn’t speak about but embraced. 

There is nothing more Jaehyun wants than to have more time with you. He wonders if things would have been different if he had fallen for you much earlier or if you had. He’s not fully sure how much you love him, he knows you’re stuck on him leaving sometime in the future which is what hinders this from going forward but he truly wishes you could see that he has no intent on leaving soon or for too long. 

What if he had helped you clean the pen earlier? That would have meant spending more time with you and more outings with your family, surely. On the other hand, what if he had been useful enough during planting? It’s evident he would have never gotten close to you beside cordiality in the mornings and afternoons for meals and trips to the market. 

Jaehyun cannot think of a world where this trip would result in you two not becoming closer. He can’t fathom not getting to know and falling in love with you.

Sensing his pensiveness, you turn your head, looking up at him with a questioning look that he could only interpret as trying to read his mind. He’s noticed that quirk, the way your head tilts and your lips quiver in a way to mutter a “hm” without voicing it. He makes sure to receive it with a smile, leaning in to peck your lips that surely help you abandon your actions.

“It’s a bummer Ollie didn’t come.” He attempts to distract. “Would have been nice seeing him have some fun before leaving.” There’s more to what he had said. Jaehyun wanted to add ‘before I leave’ into his sentence, it’s hanging on his tongue despite how much his brain and heart attempt to keep him wrapped around his delusion of perpetual happiness.

“I think so too.” your body twists within his arms, facing him. “I was thinking of making his favorite meal for dinner once we get back. His dad always returns him skinnier and paler than how he leaves, I need him to keep his cheeks plump, don’t you think?” Your exclamation forces a chuckle out of him, nodding in response. 

“Help me find a gift for him too, then?”  “Don’t spoil him too much, he’ll be an even bigger pain than he already is.” “Oh come on, don’t be so mean to the kid. Let me, please…” Jesus, if anyone was to hear you two they’d think you’re talking about a child and not a nineteen year old. But that’s what Ollie is to you both. A child you saw as yours or your brother that Jaehyun would spoil while you scold him no matter how much you loved him. You’d reckon Ollie’s presence kept you sane even if he often teased you but his nature was enough to bring entertainment for you and joy for your grandparents. If Jaehyun looks back at it, Ollie reminds him of the young boy he met in that taxi on the way to that village. 

Reluctantly (faking so) you agree, rolling your eyes before pushing him off to swim away from him. He doesn’t stay too behind, chasing you for what feels like forever. Overworking your body for hours in such a hot body of water had rendered exhausting for both to the point that you basically had to drag each other out of the water just to lay on the cool metal ramp, gasping for air acclimation to avoid fainting. Jaehyun was far more concerned with you when he didn’t hear you speaking nor felt you moving, calming when you stick your tongue out at him for his nosiness although all you wanted was to see him smile.

“You complain about Ollie but it seems like the real brat here is you!” He exclaims, gaining momentum to swing his legs onto both sides of you. “Cry about it.” You mutter, a smile on your face; his hair hangs off, fuzzy around his eyes and dripping onto your cheeks. “Or… maybe I should do something to correct it.” His hair tickles your face, sticking to your cheeks the more his lips linger on them, testing the waters.

He relents when your arms wrap around his shoulders, leaving him flush over your body with nothing left but your lips to connect. They’re cold and pillowy, soft against your own just like his hands when they find purchase on your waist, holding you near as if the spring water below you will drag you out of his grasp, the last thing he needs. 

Jaehyun is gentle in the way he holds and kisses you. His hands knead your skin, warming against it the more they roam around to hold you closer. Your fingers thread through his hair, sending shivers down his spine that causes him to sigh into the kiss, enough for your tongue to slip through and deepen the kiss. The intensity rose, his hands felt much hotter against your skin the lower they went, scalding when one of them grips your upper thigh –avoiding the bruising from whitey’s assault– helping it raise to rest on his hip.

Tongues mingle amongst each other, the taste of the mango juice he drank earlier still coating it to which you enjoy against your own. The thin film of saliva on both of your lips helps them slot smoothly in a far more pleasant kiss. Jaehyun’s fingers knew how to tease you, tips tickling your inner thigh that forced small groans which begged him for more. 

More, more, more – Jaehyun would have given you everything if it wasn’t for the faint sound of music blaring and tires pushing dirt through Cattle began mooing, warning you of company joining, spoiling whatever comfort you two had.

You scramble to grab the towels, Jaehyun helps you, drying you off with his own and taking the remaining items under his arm to help you towards the truck, staying guard while you change into dry clothes coming in when you knock against the window. He doesn’t bother changing, claiming the air will dry him well enough upon. 

You cross paths with the incoming truck, nodding your heads in acknowledgment before embarking on another long ride. Small talk made here and there, he speaks about how much this road reminds him of Western America: dry vegetation and barely any trees insight but with lively mountains that shield anyone from the sun. You tell him that it seems interesting how he describes that part while detesting Connecticut but he laughs and shrugs. 

It’s not long until you stop at a gas station, the truck nearly empty and he still had to change into some dry clothes. He met you inside, walking through the aisles in search of a snack for whatever was left of the ride. 

Jaehyun doesn’t share your sentiment. He finds himself distracted by a corner of toys, a bright red truck similar to the one you’re transporting through catching his eye. It glimmers under the sun rays that make way through the window panels. Jaehyun thinks it would be a good gift for Ollie, a menial one for now.

Paying for the items and heading outside with you hand in hand, Jaehyun recalls seeing a photobooth by the bathrooms. He pulls you along with no response to your questions, motioning with his head for you to push through the red velvet curtain. The first image is neutral enough, smiling while looking directly at the mirror, the flash comes in and you two hold each other. By the last two flashes it resulted in engraving the image of you two kissing.

You laugh at him for sneaking in a kiss and having it on film, he shrugs you off knowing that it was an image he’d like to see at all times and he’s hopeful you do too. You still needed to wait for at least four minutes for the film strips to develop, leading Jaehyun to slot in more coins claiming he wanted Ollie to have something to remind the young boy of the two. 

Jaehyun truly wanted to say that he hoped Ollie wouldn’t forget that the two loved him. He hoped a flimsy piece of paper was enough of comfort to Ollie as they will be to him.

Pulling out a pocketbook rushedly, Jaehyun manages to scribble his support and appreciation for the young boy. That’s an image of himself alone, handing it to you to scribble something quick before the flash goes off again. The last two flashes are paraded with you two making faces you often made towards him – sticking your tongue out or scrunching your nose, the latter his favorite one.

“Good luck in your journey, you’ve done so well these past months!” “Ollie! Remember to eat all your meals and no buddy-budding with any louse. You’re a good boy!” “Fighting our lovely, Ollie!” Compliments of Jaehyun.  “We love you, Ollie. More than you think.” Now that comes from the bottom of both of your hearts.

Jaehyun bought a jacket for Ollie once back in the village while grocery shopping at the market for the voyage dinner. For the first time since he arrived you had trusted him to navigate the village on his own. The everyday route was engraved onto his brain, finding you shortly with the jacket in a wrapped box. You wanted to see it but he told you you’d have to wait until Ollie opens it, he didn’t want to re-wrap this himself.

Your grandparents and Ollie didn’t arrive until a few hours later when everything was set up already. Jaehyun arranged the table outside with a fine china that belonged to you, not the one in the cabinet. He had attempted to help you in the kitchen but backed off when he saw your eye twitch the second he mixed a pot on the stove. There he learnt that getting in your way while cooking wasn’t a good idea so he instead went to feed the pen animals and loiter around to write the letter he’d give the young boy with his gifts.

Ollie could have sworn this was a delayed birthday party. Jaehyun had arrived a week after Ollie turned nineteen, missing any form of celebration. Now he was complete, this had to be a form of celebration and not a voyage dinner, it just had to. Otherwise why would he be crying at the dinner table? 

Ollie would like to think his tears represented the impending doom you were all to face one way or another with his absence. Both figuratively and and literally; comically and realistically. 

The hands on his back and shoulders try their best to comfort him, whispers of how this was yet another trip meant to minimize the meaning of this but Ollie knew something was wrong, something none of you did just yet. He smiled widely, tears streaming down his face, laughing in order to control himself but your gentle wiping and hugs made him fall deeper into that feeling. His childish intuition as you all call it.

Jaehyun on the other hand decides to pull out his gifts in hopes it would help but it only made Ollie cry harder. The younger spews his thank you’s, hugging Jaehyun for comfort to which the older one takes, his own heart filling with such an aching pulsation. He ignores it, it doesn’t matter what he’s feeling, he wants Ollie to take a good look and remember him in a bright light.

Ollie wore the jacket all night and took it on his trip – along the letter–, never letting anyone touch it. He left the truck with you and your grandparents, he knew it’d be far more safe with you than with his brothers. 

The dinner didn’t spoil after his crying fit. Your grandmother had playfully scolded him to get a grip while your grandfather helped him with a shot of liquor. It progressed onto serving them all dinner, Jaehyun helping you throughout all steps while your grandpa complained about the long lines for their pension and all the old people as if he wasn’t one of them. Your grandmother only backed him up a few times, rebutting his claims in others just for the sake of arguing which caused laughs to leave everyone. 

It wasn’t anything new, Jaehyun had grown accustomed to their conversations. They may argue right now but other times the tone of their voices sounded harsh when all they were doing was conversing, as peaceful as they knew how. He wonders if this will ever be you two although he’s not sure he could raise his voice at you or vice versa.

Night had fallen faster than any of you would have wanted. Usually Ollie would leave whenever he pleased and no one would bat an eye but in the past hour his father had called nearly ten times and it was bothering your grandparents. You and Jaehyun too but not as much as the elders since they were the ones inside. Your grandmother had been yelling from her bed to tell Ollie his dick of a father was on the line again, in fact by the fifth call no one answered, they just knew. 

So when the tenth call had rung, Ollie who had been helping you put away the left overs answered angrily telling his father to fuck off and that he’d be on the way soon, received with some scolding from him that he didn’t finish spewing from how fast Ollie hung up. It didn’t mean your scolding wasn’t on the way with how piercing your glare was.

Like a kicked sad puppy, Ollie goes to you in hopes his affection would soften the blow. “That’s not how I’ve raised you, Oliver! Your dad may be a deadbeat but you still shouldn’t talk to him like that – at least in our presence!” Your fingers nip his earlobe, a yelp leaving his bitten lips and a grunt to follow. 

“You know my grandparents don’t like when you talk back so don’t do it again when they’re around, okay?” You say, a hand on your hip like a mother scolding her child. That’s essentially how you saw him and how he saw you. 

“So I can talk back in front of you?” A cheeky smile received with a soft pinch to his ear. “No!” Your smile betrayed your words. He giggles at the reaction he got out of you, twisting out of your grasp to take you into a hug. 

“I really wish you would just enjoy the present and the time you have with Jaehyun without dwelling on how long or how little he has left here. Enjoy the love he’s giving you and return yours, he needs it too, Y/n. For what is left...” 

He sighs, holding you in a firmer grasp. Words don’t quite describe what you want to answer with but you knew he was right despite your initial hostility. 

You kiss his cheek, nodding as a response. He mimics your actions before waving and heading over to your grandparents to bid his goodbyes before leaving through the middle room. 

Jaehyun doesn’t know why he disappeared after dessert. Perhaps he didn’t want to face Ollie when he left and had to say goodbye, he wasn’t good with those. So here he was, on the roof next to the water tank, filling it up as an excuse to why he was so detached from everyone else. It didn’t matter though, Ollie had found him immediately that when Jaehyun heard the clanking of boots he gifted the boy against the rusted ladder, he felt dread.

He pretended to be people watching, seeing how a guy on the right side cleaned his car (it is  meant to rain tomorrow or overnight). In the front, a woman bathes her dogs within the vicinity of her patio, the dog shaking and getting the water all over her. On the dirt filled path, children rode their bicycles, going around any ditches and potholes that would make them fall.

Ollie joins him, standing besides, focusing far more on how the sun was setting. He allows Jaehyun to speak first but frowns when he doesn’t; the faint sound of the phone ringing again makes him shut his eyes.

“Thank you for the gifts, you’ve done far more for me than my own dad.” He bitterly chuckles. Jaehyun turns to him, a small grin on his face that falls when the younger one speaks again.

“You’re avoiding me.” “No.” 

His voice wavers, eyes trying to show Ollie he wasn’t. Ollie chuckles again, shaking his head. 

“I get it, don’t worry. I don’t want to say bye either.”  “I don’t want to say bye.”

Ollie nods, looking at the sights Jaehyun had looked upon. The car was clean despite the sprinkling, a child had missed a bump and fell, and the dog was laying back on dirt.

“Jaehyun, it does mean a lot to me what you’ve done these months. You kind of suck with labor and all but you’ve been of great help.” He laughs, hoping his teasing jab will ease the tension. Jaehyun rolls his eyes, hitting the back of his head softly with a silent laugh. “I’m serious though, you’ve been of great help to Y/n, it’s not easy dealing with the house work and being a caretaker. I think you’ve helped liven her up more. I’m glad you’re able to think about your present with her. I hope it doesn’t change, you make her happy and we like seeing her this way.” Ollie sighs looking at his watch, the sun has set. 

“I hope you’re still here by the time I come back home–” He laughs, cutting himself off. “It’s not even my home.” 

“I’ve never felt more at home than here, I understand.”

Ollie smiles at his claims, he nods with a final sigh. Before going down he gives Jaehyun a final hug and a tight squeeze. The older man mimics his actions to demonstrate his own affection.

Midway down the ladder, Ollie stops and Jaehyun tilts his head. “By the way, this came after you left earlier today.” He pulls out a wrinkled envelope from his back pocket. Immediately recognizing the ivory color and red wax seal, all Jaehyun knows is that he won’t read it any time soon.

“Bye, Jaehyun.” “Bye, Ollie.”

–

Things didn’t go back to normal after Ollie’s departure, no matter how hard everyone pretended that this hadn’t created a rupture into the atmosphere – a breach to the eco. It goes to say that Ollie helped things feel easy and fun, he was the joy you all needed and now he was gone. Things felt mundane again and to Jaehyun this wasn’t a foreign feeling but one he did not want to have here.

A week and a half without him already feels like an eternity. You and Jaehyun wonder if this is what parents feel when their children finally part ways. 

On the brightside, his conversation with you helped you ease into what you felt for Jaehyun. Yes, you still sneaked kisses and affectionate touches here and there out of respect for your grandparents but it was so obvious what you two had that the elders didn’t tease you anymore for the glances and blush.

Mail day has arrived and Jaehyun once again has received a letter, one he thinks about throwing onto the pile of drafts he’s written and discarded. The letter Ollie handed him before he left tucked in between those. 

He thanks the mailman, putting down the rake he used to pick up fallen leaves. Your grandfather had taught him to put them in a pile to later be burned. He contemplates throwing the letter in, watching the red wax seal spread as it melts. He can't, though, the bold red letters screaming “URGENT!” make themselves present to him. 

Jaehyun sighs, shaking his head wondering what it was now as he opens the envelope. Simple greetings, some scolding and questioning, and a plane ticket. What? That was enough for Jaehyun to ignore his nonchalant attitude and let panic take over him. He took the effort to read over the letter closely without missing a detail. 

Why the hell would he have a plane ticket?!

‘Dear Jaehyun,

No, scratch that. What the hell is wrong with you? We haven’t heard back from you since that call and you’re not answering the one letter we sent you. We figure and understand you’re having a great time but it does not mean you’re meant to forget your responsibilities back home. Remember how you’re supposed to send drafts? Right, you haven’t done that and given the changes made while you’ve been gone it’s best you get to it!

We miss you so don’t regard this letter as totally reproachful. Please be sure to be here and don’t miss your plane. We’ll make sure to send a fax before you make it to the airport. Till then, enjoy your time and give us a call as soon as you can.

Sincerely, Jude.’

Well this has severed his plans and mood. Was it not enough to have one departure?

30 AUG 87, 17:30 time of departure, one way only. Red bold letters mirroring the ones that caught his attention to read the components of the letter. If he had known it was for this, he would’ve thrown it in the pile of leaves and act clueless if he was to ever receive an emergency call.

His aggravation was noticeable to you the second he stepped inside the vicinity of the patio. His face sunken, something it wasn’t before leaving to clean outside. Not to mention it seemed like he was biting the inside of his cheeks, holding in his breath as a form of repression. You watch carefully, pretending to not have noticed him while cutting sugar canes near his room.  

He sees you and he wants to ask something or at least find a way to begin this conversation. He should tell you, no? He should, he knows it but he’s scared and also a coward who waits for you to throw the first stone.

“Something happened?” Jaehyun stops by the step before the kitchen, facing you with a slight shake of head. “Um… does the phone run overseas calls?” It’s your turn to shake your head, firmly unlike him. “Alright, I’ll be back in a bit.”

He bolts out towards Gabby’s with the ticket inside his pocket, crumbled and wrinkled like the letter Ollie handed him. The older woman seemed to have understood the reason for his visit. The second she saw the familiar face, she pulled that phone she loved so much to the counter along with the catalog and timer, dialing the code before handing it to him. Jaehyun was thankful she didn’t drag it out, he needed answers immediately.

One ring, two rings, “Hello?” Good, rapid enough.

Jaehyun grips the phone, a tight hold that makes his subconscious scared that he’ll pop this heirloom. “I don’t want to go back!” Well, that’s a way to start a conversation. 

Hyunjoo laughs, calling Jude over to let him know their golden boy finally contacted them after four months. Jude wasn’t as kind as Hyunjoo, he took the fatherly role seriously and began berating the younger of the three on why he had gone rogue. 

“What if something had happened to you? Do you not care for what we feel, Jaehyun. If it wasn’t for this idiot I would’ve sent you letters and even gone to pick you up, so don’t ever pull this on us again! On me, again!” One can only imagine how red he was, up to his receding hairline. 

Jaehyun would’ve laughed in the past but now the life he’s built here is soon to crumble and he doesn’t like it. “It doesn’t mean you guys can just force me back! I’ve built something here, I have something going on! I love it here and I don’t want to leave!” He whines, obvious hurt in his wavering voice.

“Yeah, well, whatever you have going on should be finished soon. You know, you only went there for inspiration and to blow some steam off, Yuno. Nothing else, my boy.” If Hyunjoo was there he would pat his cheek reassuringly, unaware of how much Jaehyun hated his little acts of condescension and belittling. 

Jaehyun didn’t want to finish what he had here, he wanted to stay forever. He wanted to stay with you, your grandparents, and Ollie. He wanted to be here by the time Ollie came back to greet him with a big hug, a meal, and a trip to the hot spring he wasn’t able to enjoy before leaving. He wanted to build a life with you. Court you properly, date you, travel with you. Even marry you, he doesn’t care how early this is or how late, he wants you and everyone he’s learnt to love these months in his life. Of course his career had to get in between him and his happiness like always.

Jude sighs, massaging the bridge of his nose.  “Listen, Jaehyun… There’s nothing we can do, have you read the letter we sent you a few weeks back? That explains it all. Believe me when I say that if it was for me, you could stay there for as long as you want and go back whenever the book is published–”

“That’s the plan.” He interrupts, teeth gritting. Jude and Hyunjoo give each other a look, one that would make Jaehyun feel far more defensive if he could see it. “Jaehyun… things have changed within the publishing house. Go read the letter and we’ll see you Monday, yeah?”

Jude waited for an answer that Jaehyun never gave him. He hung up quite forcibly, receiving a glare from the store owner who muttered the amount. He didn’t stay for his change nor cared for her screams telling him to take it. Jaehyun was in an irritable mood that no one could take away from him today.

Things were definitely not fine. That’s as much as you and your grandpa could decree when Jaehyun crossed the patio straight into his room, closing the door behind him without uttering a word. The elder and you removed kernels in front of his window, under the tree for shade. You could hear him mumble incoherently, his eyebrows furrowing the further he read. 

“What bug bit him?” Your grandpa whispers, cocking his head to the open window. You shrug, throwing away the cob into a bucket, fuel for the chimney. “Go ask then.” So persistent and straight to business. “What? No! I’ll wait until he tells me, pa…” But you did want to ask him what was wrong, more than anything. It’s just that your cowardice won’t allow you. The older man rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue in disappointment while feeding the chickens with fallen kernels. 

Time and him can only tell what he’s feeling.

‘Dear Jaehyun,

For starters, we miss you dearly. At least I do but find it in your heart to believe Hyunjoo does so as well. We’ve respected your wishes on not contacting you, even through letters but it’s been over three months and you have yet to let us know how you are doing. Do you not care for mine and your family’s well being? I care for yours, I’ve been restless all these months wondering how you are doing. It’s far too irresponsible to not even contact your own family, Jaehyun.

Is the book in the works? How are the drafts? You know we needed drafts mailed throughout your stay, young man. How is the host treating you? I figure well enough if you haven’t contacted us yet. If not then I’ll see myself forced to call the national guard if I don’t hear from you soon!

Regardless, some updates on how things are going on our end. We’ve been able to fake some notices here and there to the publishing house about yours and the drafts whereabouts. If you must know, if you haven’t figured it out already – which is possible, being in such an isolated village… – Mark is in the process of publishing his next book. His last ones have been a great success and been able to knock some of yours from bestsellers therefore things are becoming harsh around here.

The publishing house wants you back immediately and wants your book ready. Hyunjoo has managed to give you more time before it’s edited and the final print is chosen but the new investors are pushing the house and they are desperate for a contender against Mark’s book. So please, cut your time short and don’t miss your plane! I’ll make sure to send the ticket soon when I’m able to obtain it.

Best regards,  Jude.’

Jaehyun doesn’t know what to think. He now understands multiple jobs are on the line but so is his happiness. Even so if he goes and turns in whatever he has – which isn’t enough for even a first draft – what guarantees all of them that it will be published by the time Mark’s is? They can’t just publish some nonsensical thoughts he’s scribbled down for the sake of beating another child protege author. 

Mark’s work is far different from Jaehyun’s, he’s youthful in the way he writes, his metaphors are far more enthusiastic and fun. He’s great within young audiences and those seeking to remove themselves from melancholia. He’s everything Jaehyun isn’t and in both their brains, they know they can’t compete for something neither are reaching for.

Matter of fact, that’s not his concern right now. His concern is on how to break the news to you and your family. He’s supposed to leave by the end of this week, what are you going to do in such a short notice? What is he going to do in such short notice? Things were finally starting to align, why must bad things always happen to him– you– both.

One thing is for sure, he has to tell you immediately. But first he’s going to go back to Gabby’s and buy whichever pack of beers and some chips, maybe even some bread in case you feel your blood pressure rise (he’ll eat it, most likely). Arriving there and getting the items, he’s grateful the older woman honored the change he had left, even gifted him a chocolate as she sensed that something was off. Jaehyun thanks her and contemplates on saying goodbye but it’s too soon. Instead he nods and waves on his way back.  

He doesn’t have the courage to go past the threshold, opting to sit on the uncomfortable and textured concrete bench by the door of your’s and your grandmother’s bedroom. He hears the loud melodrama of her soap operas and the sewing machine she doesn’t leave alone. Another dress for you, he figures she’s making.

There’s the faint sound of music coming from your grandfather’s car, the one he and Ollie worked on often and that Jaehyun began helping with due to his absence. It pains Jaehyun to know that the elder will once again lose the aid he claims to not want but appreciates wholeheartedly. 

His sigh elicits company, or perhaps the pop from the beer bottle had attracted it so here you were, standing by the metal threshold that separated you and him from inside to outside. Your head tilts, looking at him as if trying to read the grievances on his face. 

“Misery likes company.” 

Your voice makes his head snap, eyes glistening while drowning in the sweetness of your company. He smiles shortly, patting the empty spot to his right, the sun is setting fastly. 

He takes your hand into his, kissing the palm and fingers before pulling you in for an embrace. All of this was scaring you the more and more he remained quiet and it only seems like your brain was already processing the inevitable.

“Got a letter from my manager…” “So?”

“My “rival” is putting out a book soon according to them and they want me to send in a draft already for the final print.” His fingers curl at the quotation marks, rolling his eyes at how stupid it all felt. “Ah… well, do you have anything to send then?” He shakes his head, apologies on your face. “We can stay this entire week so you can work on it, how does that sound? Pa doesn’t have to check on the crops any time soon and there isn’t really anywhere else we could go, not anywhere near.” 

There’s so much pep in your voice that it hurts to think about how short the remaining days will feel. He has to tell you and he has to tell you now.

“I leave this Sunday, Y/n.” “Oh.”

Jaehyun didn’t mean to say it like this but how else was he meant to? He didn’t want to drag it out longer nor agitate you but he also didn’t want to hurt you and that’s all he can read on your face. Hurt.

Misery does love company.

Your body slumps against the adobe wall, harsh against your backbones. The hand he holds falls limp against his touch and all Jaehyun can do as comfort is kissing it before placing the open bottle in your hand, opening another for himself. 

He hadn’t had the time to burn the pile of leaves and the sun was far more foreign by now. That shade of blue coloring his face, an obvious demonstration of his feelings from the past hour. Yet it’s you who takes the initiative to take out the box of matches from the apron you wear, forgetting that you were cooking dinner just to check up on him.

The flame catches fast, rising as you whisper your grievances into it, taking a sip of your drink. Jaehyun doesn’t say anything, he tries to take a hold of your hand but he hesitates, fearful that you won’t want it. Instead he throws both letters onto the fire, helping its consumption and anger. At least now you both have let something go.

The morning after, both elders made sure to not ask any favors out of him and let him to his own vices. They understood he’s meant to get his work done so they didn’t want to add stress onto him. But this continued onto the third and fourth day of the week and Jaehyun was aching more and more as his time fell short. He felt just as inutile as his first week, if not more than that week. He also felt his heart ache only having meals to spend with you all but even then he began feeling like the foreigner he was.

Conversations with him were as cordial as before but not as cheery. They asked about his book and what he had ready. They asked if his suitcase was prepared and if he was happy to go back home. Your grandpa did his best to joke around but would soon drop it when he felt his voice tremble. He’s always worn his heart in his sleeve and another one he saw as a son will now leave him again.

Your grandmother on the other hand was the most level headed. She made sure Jaehyun was kept on track with his work and even helped clean his room when he begged her not to tire herself. She’s faced much loss and pain, a stranger leaving wasn’t going to knock her down. If anything, she feels for how you will act once he’s gone.

By dinner time you and your grandfather had bolted out of the kitchen, feeding the animals any leftovers and giving them their own meal. That left him and your grandmother in the kitchen. She was in the process of taking some water from the bucket in the chimney, he did it instead. Pouring it into another container where your grandmother would then add cold water for balance.

She thanked him and told him he should go back to work but Jaehyun didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to be alone, he’s been so for the past three days and it’s corroding his soul. He wants to take away the happy memories, he wants his final days to be fun. He’s begging for you all to not do this to him. He needs contact and affection, he needs it.

“So… you have everything ready?” She tries to converse, passing the soapy sponge over the dirty plates. He nods, rinsing it. “Not excited, I’m guessing.” Jaehyun’s pout is enough of an answer. “Look at it on the brightside. You’ll be able to get it over with and the doors here are always open for you.”

He should know she means it, the problem is that he doesn’t know when he’ll be back. How long will it take for the book to be published? How long will promotions last? What if he’s forced to work on something else straight after? Jesus Christ, he’s not even back yet and he’s already stressing about his reality.

“Yeah?”  “Yes.”

Jaehyun smiles at her. 

“Will you take care of Y/n for me?” He asks again, putting away the dishes he’s rinsed. She laughs nodding, “She’s taking care of us, I think she’ll manage well.” Jaehyun laughs as well, feeling foolish. “I don’t think you should worry too much about her, Jaehyun. She’s strong and can handle this. As long as you two keep in contact, I believe it will be fine.” She pats his back, leaving a wet hand print that warms his muscles. 

He contemplates on taking the advice. Your grandmother has said everything he already knows about you but perhaps he’s projecting his own feelings. He’ll need another source for advice and there’s no one better than your grandfather.

Jaehyun excuses himself, rinsing and drying the few dishes left before walking out to help your grandfather on the car. The older man sat pensive while looking around the vehicle, loud music coming out of it to drown any thoughts. 

Hopping on the co-pilot seat, Jaehyun smiles at him, dusting away some stray picked up dust. “It’s looking better now.” He compliments, your grandpa nods, humming with a following hearty laugh. “You’re much better at this than me.” The older one shakes his head, continuing his laughter. “These things take time, you just need to practice more. When you come back I’ll help you with it.” Your grandpa is far more hopeful than the rest of you, that reassures him enough.

“You’ll let me in again?” 

“Yes. You make my kids happy and you’ve been of great help even when you didn’t have to.” His laughter subsided, turning into a smile he was struggling to maintain. “It’s a shame you’re leaving so soon.” He hiccups, waterworks on the way. “We’ll miss you, kid. Especially Y/n…” The mention of your name was enough for him to begin his silent sobs, tears beginning to spill. 

If there is one thing he can count on is your grandfather expressing what you and your grandmother aren’t able to. Jaehyun sniffles himself, comforting with some rubs to the older’s shoulder before hugging him. Now he knows how appreciated and loved he is and for that he is thankful.

Your grandpa attempts to stop crying, laughing in between to seem like everything was fine. That was always his way of trying to control himself. “You’ll come back, right?” Jaehyun nods, smiling at him while wiping away a stray tear. “As soon as possible. I want a life here.” Your grandfather smiles at him, looking straight to where his headlights shine.

“I’m not from here either. I was born and raised in a city an hour or two from here– you’ve been there, that’s where the airport is.” Jaehyun recalls his first day, the bustling and loud city with historical architecture. It was beautiful, surely, but it doesn’t compare to this village and its own beauty.

“I’ve worked my entire life since I can remember, seven to be specific. By eighteen I found myself here, I was young and my only experience came from the mines and cleaning cars but agriculture is a booming business here so somehow I found my way to a ranch that was hiring to work on machinery. I didn’t know how to work a car let alone a tractor but I was hungry and needed money to send back home. My dad died when I was only three and my mom was left alone with five kids. I had to help her. I lied my way through with the owner and I was young so he took me in.” 

Everyone starts somewhere and soon falls in love with the place.

“I stayed at a shack they had built by plots, their own home wasn’t too far so I often went by to ask for a glass of water. That’s when I met Y/n’s grandmother. She’s always been this cold and serious. I would chug the water down and then beg her for more. She would roll her eyes and complain but would always come back with it filled to the brim, ice cold.” He laughs, tears finally gone. 

“From then on I kept trying to talk with her even if she pretended to hate it. I’d ask her sisters and sometimes her brothers but it was tricky, I didn’t want them to beat my ass up for thinking about their sister! So, I would have enough with whatever conversations we would have when she brought the workers drinks and food or at dances. One time her own father told me to ask her to dance and since then I never left her alone. With his blessing, then none of her family would interfere and sooner than later I asked her to marry me so here we are, sixty years later and twelve kids.”

“Is this you giving me your blessing to be with Y/n?” Jaehyun half jokes but there’s so much sincerity in his voice that he can’t deny being hopeful. The older man nods and laughs, clasping his back. “As if you needed it… I often went back to my own family but still came back because I love this place and everything it has offered me. Similar to you… I hope your love for Y/n is as strong as mine was years ago. I would hate to see a different fate for you two.”  

Jaehyun didn’t know how to respond to that, he truly wished to be back as soon as possible and he would fight tooth and nail to make it possible. Yes, it’s different from him and your grandfather due to the distance but he will make it work because he loves you, he loves you so much that he can’t seem to express it properly. 

“Thank you…” “It’s just advice.”

The older man leaves him to his vices and thoughts. With another laugh and a nod bidding him goodnight, he turns the car off, leaving Jaehyun in the dark.

Jaehyun thinks about both conversations all night. He feels a sense of relief knowing he’s had a heart to heart with two of the most important people in your life. It’s good to know they approve of him and the love he has for you. He hopes you’re as understanding and hopeful as your grandparents.

Saturday came as a surprise to him. The roosters weren’t the ones to wake him up, it was your grandpa who excitedly told him to gather all his things. Jaehyun tried to question what was going on but the elder gave him no time. His hearty laugh was enough of an answer, taking the few suitcases he saw in the corner while pushing Jaehyun into the restroom to get ready. He’s not sure what’s going on but he won’t protest, it’s the first time this week that he feels included.

Within half an hour everyone was ready, Jaehyun noticed you too were surprised by the sudden change of plans. You weren’t your usual put-together self and kept yawning resulting in you sleeping throughout the entire car ride. He took this moment to take pictures of the road. Previously he had compared it to his time in West America, he now doesn’t think it’s too comparable. The vegetation is bright and green, most of it coming from incoming crops and lively trees.

Within an hour your grandfather stopped at a town, it was time for breakfast. Both raved about the food despite how spicy it was while you and your grandmother made fun of them. Jaehyun took this chance to take more pictures, candid ones of you and your family with the prettiest decoration in the background. Every memory counts.

Afterwards, you all take a moment to explore the quaint town for a bit, simply so Jaehyun can get some souvenirs. It reminded him of two past towns he’s visited during his time here. One where he had to fight for a seat to be able to eat. Meal which ended up being one of the most disgusting things he’s ever had. He won’t ever tell the rest of you that but you share his sentiment. The second one being where your grandpa struggled to find parking and almost left. He likes that one better.

It’s not to say this town isn’t beautiful, it is. It’s historical, colorful, and calm. Very calm and quiet, something that reminds him of the best village which is where he resided for the past few months. How he loves it there and he’ll hold it to his heart.

Getting his pictures and souvenirs, it was set to take another two hours on the road, only stopping when having to use the restroom which unfortunately due to age is something your grandparents needed often. In those moments Jaehyun would reminisce on the day you two took those photos and bought Ollie’s truck, the one he saw daily perched next to the fine china in the cabinet with a passport picture of him. 

“Well here we are, the city I was born in.” Your grandfather’s voice made sure to take away the last bits of drowsiness from you. Your last visit was at fifteen and from the looks of it, nothing had changed. It’s amazing for Jaehyun to tell how different life was between the countryside and the city. The moment you all came to see the skyscrapers and bridges, it felt like a totally different part of the world. It was louder, much more polluted and littered, but for sure not horrendous. Your grandfather made sure to tell him the story of this city like he had done for every village and town visited. 

For the majority of the day you all spent it looking around. At the entrance, your grandparents pushed you to ride on the cableway that dropped you off directly downtown. You tried to make them get in it with you both but they excused themselves with being too old and preferring to meet you there with the car. You all knew it was so you and Jaehyun could spend a couple of minutes alone.

“It’s pretty.” “Not as pretty as home.” 

Jaehyun smiles at you, taking your hand into his. You return the gesture, squeezing his warm hand in yours. 

“Is your city pretty? I’ve heard it is.” 

“I’m not talking about where I’ll go back, Y/n. I’m talking about back home. With you, your grandparents, and Ollie.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. Within you and the colorful buildings beneath, Jaehyun is sure to say the view during his time has always been beautiful.

“Do you truly want a life with me?” You shift, close yet with a distance. It was a simple answer, there’s no reason to lie. His smile, dimples, eyes, and even his reddened ears told you he did. Words are preferable though. “Yes.” leaves his rosy lips, kissing you to imprint the confirmation.

Only time will tell how true to his word he is.

You met your grandparents shortly, both bickering about where to reside when night befalls. The topic fell to deaf ears, prefering to explore more about the city. Murals that he wouldn’t forget, traffic as bad as where he resides with the exception that entertainment began the second redlights turn on. Street food that smells delicious and calls his name within every second. 

It’s similar yet so distinct from what he has learned to love. It’s clear to him that no matter how familiar you are to one thing, there will always be more to learn about it. 

It was near dinner time and within an hour or two from sundown. That forced your grandparents to argue again about the same thing from earlier. This time you two got to learn that your grandfather wanted to rest in his childhood home with his family while your grandmother wanted to avoid that at all costs. She’ll tolerate a visit but won’t give them the benefit of being their host, that’s her role. Not to mention she won’t forget all their wrongdoings towards her and her husband no matter how much the latter attempts to have a happy family.

Words thrown here and there, you all decree to eat out. Both you and your grandmother brought up the time his sister cooked unhygienically that he ended up having a stomach bug for the following three days. He laughs at this and leads you all to your favorite spot, somewhere Jaehyun yearns to taste again for years to come.

You all do end up visiting his family before the sun falls, a quick in and out situation. Jaehyun didn’t pay too much attention to the conversations, he was more entranced with the portraits on the walls and the cracks of chipped paint that told the story of this home.

“Why do you keep looking at the cracks?”

Your voice forces Jaehyun to turn to you, extending his hand to feel your warmth. “Do you think they’re due to poor care or the house growing old with its inhabitants? Your grandpa said he doesn’t recall the ones from this wall.” Your head tilts, looking at them as if you two were in a museum. Perhaps you should take him there tomorrow before his departure. 

“Will you write that in your book?” He laughs, taking you into an embrace. “Okay smarty pants how do you word it normally, then?” You return the gesture. “I wouldn’t even think about it for starters, there’s so many back home. Why would I care about this one?” 

“I’ve seen how much care you all give the home, there’s barely any cracks. The question is answered for that house.”

“Then… I guess you can find an answer for this one. We’ve been here for an hour or so and there’s plenty more people living here who haven’t greeted them at least.” 

You both turn to your grandparents. Grandma sitting silently and aggravated in the corner with a cup of water that she hasn’t touched. Your grandfather enjoys his talk with his sisters despite their spouses talking over and for them. His nephews and nieces, nowhere seen but heard through these same cracks Jaehyun wonders so much about. 

Yes, he has his answer. A house without love crumbles faster.

The sun had fallen sooner than expected and with that your grandmother finally found an excuse to leave. The other elders offered to let you all stay with no avail when even your grandfather told them it wasn’t necessary. He knew of a nearby hotel, clean, and hospitable that you could all stay at and his wishes were final. 

Immediately as the doors were closed behind your backs, the ruckus of the other four families living there could be heard. It’s clear as day where their intentions laid and why not a single picture of you or your family was on their walls.

When questioning why he denied their offer knowing other times he’d agree immediately, he only muttered a simple: “They didn’t even greet you or Jaehyun. What kind of hosts will they be?” Jaehyun felt a part of the family.

Room distribution went as follows. Your grandfather and Jaehyun would share a room, each with their own bed. Same thing applied to you and your grandmother, a concept you knew too well. This was the first and final night in which you two wouldn’t share a kiss through the bathroom window. You miss it like you’ll miss him.

The following morning isn’t as kind to either of you. The previous day none of you were able to process the severity that it was his final day with all of you. Enamored with what the city offered and the warmth of feeling loved by everyone within the circle, no one felt the harsh reality that is now overcoming you all. There’s ten hours left of his stay.  

Silence is the first thing that you all notice, no matter how hard you all try to erase it. Being aware that time is ticking weighs down on your shoulders. Walking through these streets feels slightly surreal. Like a Dali painting, walking through a sea of melting clocks. A torment is what he’d call it.

He manages to get a few more souvenirs, he’s not sure for who or if he’s trying his best to collect every single piece as a memory, he’ll lean towards the latter. Besides, he snags some final gifts for you, your family, and even Ollie, it’s the least he can do besides memories. He’ll be taking those and who knows when he’ll be able to show them to you all.

Within the fifth hour your grandparents rendered themselves tired and tried forcing you two to go on your own. Jaehyun didn’t want that, as much as he loves time with you, he also loves spending time with them. The two have taught him many things, brought many laughs and anecdotes he cherishes dearly.

To be maintained happy, he invites you all to a final dinner. It’s much earlier than usual but he would miss his flight if you’d have to wait till usual hours. Your grandparents attempt to protest, claiming they’re bad hosts if they let him pay but they’re fighting a losing battle and Jaehyun will make sure he can grant them everything before he goes back to reality.

It’s by far enjoyable and it helps him reminisce on all previous meals within those cold adobe walls he loved since day one. It’s dim in the restaurant, recalling the time it rained so hard the streets became rivers and light went out for the remainder of the day. You all ate under candle light while your grandparents told scary stories of the village.

Dinner was the only condition for you to leave your grandparents to rest. With all the heaviness in his heart, Jaehyun fulfilled their wishes. And while you thought it was best to leave them at the hotel, the two continued their stubborn streak and ended up sitting at a park to people-watch. Naturally, they needed live entertainment.

Three and a half hours left, so little time and so much left to do. 

You essentially were a tourist just as him, both experiencing new attractions that you only saw in passing the one time you came by. It led to both jumping from museum to museum. National and independent, art and history, for food and tools. It didn’t matter but it filled the empty space and the forced silence helped neither of you spill what flooded your minds.

“I liked the tools museum better.” You retort, almost skipping down the steps to avoid the sun rays. It was much hotter than it ever had been back in town. “Really? I thought the history museum was really nice.” He covers his eyes, rushing to your side. “Nothing Pa hasn’t told you.” He nods, shrugging with a little shimmy to his shoulders.

He looks at his watch and sighs, there isn’t much time left. “Where to next?” His words form a pit in your stomach, forcing yourself to look at the numbers on it. You ignore it, dawning on you that you’ve never spoken in-depth about his job. What’s your thought process when coming up with your books?” 

He hums, “For my first books, they were all inspired by cases I heard back home. Where I was born. They’re bleak but there’s still a sense of hope. On top of it I read a lot of Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy growing up so I felt like a cynic comparing both their work, trying my best to create a middle ground that would represent me.” He cocks his head, it’s a bitter taste to him these days. 

“Those two lead to my last two. I’m not fond of them, I won’t lie. They’re rushed and robotic, it’s noticeable in the tone but the publishing house wanted something fast and since they sold well, they didn’t care about how I felt, that’s why I’m here now. They wanted this book to be rushed and as miserable as those but I can’t handle writing anything of the sorts anymore. I would’ve ended up like Plath, Hemingway or Dazai if I wrote about how miserable life is once again.”

Jaehyun couldn’t understand if the look on your face was pity or empathy, he didn’t want to see it. “Don’t worry about this one. I’ve found meaning and great inspiration. I’ll dedicate it to you.”

You laugh against his lips, pulling away to kiss his cheek. “How will I know when it’ll come out?” He shrugs, kissing your hand. “I don’t either but I’ll make sure to deliver the copy straight to you.”

“What makes you think I’ll still be here by the time it’s published?” 

Jaehyun was under the impression that you’d be here too. Your grandmother had reassured him they would always have their doors and arms open for him but he never thought that meant without you.

“I’ll find my way to you even if I have to go to the end of the world so I can read the token of my adoration for you.”

‘Of my love’ is what he wants to say, hanging on his tongue yet too scared to dive out. You seem to read his mind, kissing him instead to swallow what neither of you can say just yet.

 There was still some time left but nothing else worth seeing. Perhaps it was best to gather all your belongings from the hotel, you had the keys to the car and it shouldn’t take you too long. By this point it would be best to waste time at the airport, as dreaded as it is.

Upon arrival time made itself present. The father clock in the lobby allows its ticking to echo through the tiles that you love. The ones in each room weren’t any better. Screaming far louder than the rest that when Jaehyun finished packing his and your grandfather’s bag to make way towards your room, all he could hear was the ringing in his ears. Dreadful and painful as the feeling in his heart.

He watched you look through the night stands, making sure your grandmother’s medication wasn’t left behind. He had done the same for your grandfather, his medicine case tucked inside his bag. There’s a forlorn look in his eyes, you don’t miss it when turning to smile at him, comfortingly. You want to ask about it but fear it will consume you as well if you dwell on it.

“Ready?”

Jaehyun shakes his head, joining you on the bed and taking you in a tight embrace. In every sense he wasn’t ready to part ways. You try to laugh it off, kissing his cheek and tightening your grip. Your hands caressing his back to bring some type of comfort but it does the opposite.

Jaehyun can now understand why your grandfather breaks down so easily. The weight of one’s emotions are soon to leave when you allow yourself to be free. That may also explain why he’s always so joyful, he’s free of all his grievances but for Jaehyun it will follow him for eternity if things are not fixed as soon as possible.

“This isn’t the last time, Jaehyun… Please don’t cry.” You cradle his face, wiping away his tears that shine like diamonds under the sun rays peeking in through the window. He hiccups, sniffling to control his sobs. “It doesn’t change how difficult it is to say goodbye.” He pouts, lips so rosy and puffed. You kiss them tenderly for comfort and warmth, it’s the least you could do. Words aren’t your forte and you don’t want him to see how gutted you truly are despite trying to hold a front all this time.

Jaehyun returns the actions of affection, holding you for dear life while kissing you like no tomorrow. Muffled words leave him, incoherent to you yet you swallow them. Like the blood of Christ, you don’t let a blood drop if it means your salvation.

“I-I” He attempts to sound what he wants to say, you don’t allow him. Shaking your head fervently, slipping your tongue in the cavity of his mouth to mute him further. You know what he wants to say but if he does, it will make things far more difficult than they already are.

Jaehyun submits to your cowardice and lets the ticking of the clocks guide him. His hands hold your body near him, pulling you onto his lap to feel you closer. He wants more and so do you, God knows when you’ll meet again. 

Fingers threading through his hair, sliding down to his neck, kneading the warm skin you love so much. The actions lead to silent mewls to leave his lips for you to take. You’re so appreciative of the gift that you deepen the kiss, letting his hands roam under your blouse to feel you closer and closer. It’s your turn to gift him a sweet sound that he wishes he could trap into a music box for him to wind and listen to it on repeat daily.

Jaehyun decrees that your blouse is in the way. Too thick and cold, nothing like your skin as he feels now. His large hands take a firm grip of the textile, pulling it off. You’re exposed and he can read what your heart has hidden all this time. Jaehyun prefers to kiss it away, his pillowy lips delicately falling against your chest. Kissing it tenderly to create more of those pretty sounds that hypnotize him. 

You hold him while he does, kissing the crown of his head. Granting him what he wants while your hips softly rock against his, friction forcing him to become rougher. A soft gasp leaves your lips when he softly nips the goosebump filled skin, nimble fingers undoing your brazier. One hand covering one while his teeth take your nipple in between them.

“Jaehyun…” It’s all he wanted to hear. His tongue is warm against your tit, kissing it like his life depends on it. Perhaps it does, neither of you are sure but prefer to act like so. You on the other hand work on unbuttoning his shirt, the cool linen doing no justice to the warmth of his skin that you crave. Little by little you both feel closer to each other. 

He gently lays you down, between the warmth of your bodies and the sunrays witnessing your farewell ritual, the cold had nothing against you. You watch him, admiring every crevice of his body while pushing off your bottoms, leaving you bare for him to gawk at while unbuttoning his pants. 

Your giddy smile teasing him to hurry, giggles reinforcing the sentiment. Taking his shaft in between his warm hands, Jaehyun begins to pump slowly. You attempt to replace his hands with your own which he denies. Your touch will send him overboard without even beginning.

Instead he crawls on the bed and over you, kissing you like he always does. With sweet adoration and love, one you take thankfully. You make sure to cradle his face, his upper body in contact with yours as his fingers thread closer in between your legs. The digits waltz around your inner thighs, reminiscing on the path you and him often took to the plaza and market for your daily shopping trips.

He smiles into the kiss, the memories of all he’s experienced with you consuming him. The position alone brings him to that day at the hot spring where you two began this but never got to go further. The wait was over and he had you here. Caged between his arms, flesh against flesh, warmth radiating and your pretty sounds that he couldn’t get enough of. 

Slowly his fingers intrude the cavern between your legs, a gasp leaving your lips that helped him deepen the kiss. His tongue enters your mouth, finding yours immediately to participate in a waltz where the two could share the words that neither of you were strong enough to share. His fingers curl and pump languidly within you. The action is so foreign and long forgotten that you feel like putty beneath him. 

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, warm breath danced across his skin. Lips perfectly wrapping around the flesh of his red earlobe. He’s so sweet and easy to digest, you wish to swallow him so he never leaves you but you know that can’t be so you will make do with what these few minutes can bring to you.

It’s not far off that he takes his fingers out of you, sticking his tongue out to savor you. Just as sweet as you find him. He moans in delight, rubbing off the dripping essence on his throbbing cock that had earlier been rubbing up against your leg. Jaehyun looks directly at you while pumping himself once again. You no longer look playful but rather hungry and desperate. You needed him like one would need air. Like an addict needs their fix and you fear yours will be taken away from you once you’re both done. The ticking clocks are making it boldly aware.

His eyebrows turn up, eyes softening as if asking if you’re ready. You nod as a response, replacing his hand and continuing his strokes, dragging him downwards slowly in the process. He knew if you touched him he would be thrown overboard, he’s near it but he’ll try to last just for you. And for the sake to excuse being together for longer.

Jaehyun fixed his position above you, nudging your legs minimally to fit between them. He went in slowly, bit by bit. Avoiding any discomfort that he could bring you. You pay him with pleasured moans and kisses to shut yourself up, he graciously takes them. 

“I–” he wants to say it, he wants to tell you how much he loves you. This feels like the perfect time. You shot him down again with that sweet smile of yours, shimming your hips to which he responds by beginning his thrusts. They’re gentle and steady, enough to make you feel something that you’re only able to describe through silent mewls. He holds you tightly, pulling one of your legs above his hip. Jaehyun tries everything to feel you closer, he wants to go deeper and deeper to no avail, his thrusts can only go so far and it makes him yearn for the possibility that he could have more of you but so little time and resources to figure it out.

Jaehyun can’t believe this is it. He’s thankful this is the memory of you he’ll take with him, he’ll cherish it with every fiber in him, treasuring it like one would the eucharist. All he could think about was how wonderful you felt and how perfect your body molds to his. If this isn’t a sign that you’re meant for each other then he doesn’t know what is. 

He worships you in these moments and will continue to do so when he’s gone. He now understands the feeling devotees feel when finding their God and as sacrilegious as it is, Jaehyun’s mind won’t change. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you…

And most of all you feel his love within you. It manifests itself through tears streaming down your cheek, moans muddled with sobs that he can’t decipher to stop and comfort you or continue his thrusts. You answer for him, begging him to keep going, that you’re so close but he knows there’s more to those words besides lust.

He prods, kissing you, being the one to beg this time to let him know what was wrong but you smile and kiss him along. Leaving a trail of kisses along his jugular and shoulders, hands grasping to his flesh for dear life.

“My sweet girl.. Please tell me what’s wrong? Y/n, I lo–” “I love you, I love you, I love you! I love you, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun’s thrusts speed with every repeated word, elated to hear you say what he has wanted to all this time. To hear you spew the words he finally had the courage to let out. For you to hear and engrave in your heart and brain the way he has done so with your own.

He smiles, kissing you with a final thrust. Pulling out to place the proof of his love on your cramping stomach, the pain leaving when you, yourself release. Without a care for the mess, he lays on you, craving your warmth and touch.

“I love you too. More than you’ll ever know or understand.” The whisper pollutes the room, kissing you to cement the sentiment. You sigh, kissing the crown of his head, cradling his body against yours. If it was up to you, you would not mind dying like this. With the city’s racket as background noise, your heart palpitating against his ear, and his breathing the anecdote to tranquilize you.

Time wasn’t forgiving, his departure time was coming sooner than ever. Reluctantly, both pull away for a quick shower. It felt surreal how slow time felt when enthralled within the love you both had for each other but when reality hit, it rushed you all through the motion. Picking up your grandparents from the park, driving in silence to the airport while dealing with some traffic and the static of the radio. All of this just to arrive at the airport with minutes to spare and for the universe to not understand the pain you all felt.

It’s surreal how cruel and love can be.

“I guess this is it, huh?” Jaehyun is the first to break the silence, holding back his sobs, the redness of his nose and ears give him away. Your grandfather laughs, nodding as he takes him into a hug in which both men break down in a fit of cries. Your grandmother gives you a look, she wants to say something snarky but her tough exterior proves futile when even she feels a weep stuck in her throat. 

“You’ll contact us, right?” Your grandfather wipes his nose, sniffling while smiling warmly at the younger. Jaehyun nods, taking out his pocket book, scribbling his address for you all to send him letters. He doesn’t need yours, he has it saved by memory.

Your grandmother is second in hugging him, slipping in a bill for him to buy something back home. Both know it’s useless where he’ll go but he’ll cherish it as a memory from her just like the box of cigarettes your grandfather had gotten him. He doesn’t smoke but a token of love is a token of love. 

The elder woman pats his cheek, smiling at him tenderly. She hopes this isn’t the last time she’ll see him but she more so than anything hopes he doesn’t disappoint you after this departure. 

“Take care.” 

It leaves you at last. No more to say, no more actions to show. You just hope he comes back to you as promised. 

“I’ll miss you.” Your fingers fiddle with the paper in hand, his pretty handwriting hypnotizing you to believe this moment isn’t real.

“I love you.” That’s enough to call your attention. His palm cradles your face and he steals a quick tender kiss. Embarrassment of having done so in front of your grandparents floods you, you only hope they understand which they do.

“I love you too…”

You had all drowned the calling from the greeter at the door earlier on but things had to be done and reluctantly you both let go. Watching him enter that path had taken a piece of you and when he was out of view, your entire body felt like it would crumble.

You tried your darndest to not cry. To not show your grandparents how much his departure was hurting you. Futile is what they would call it, your sobs were becoming louder as your grandfather drove back home, hoping to get there before night caught up to you all. 

Nothing good ever comes out of crying. You’ve known this for a while, for you and your grandmother crying only continues to further make you miserable. Not like the relief it brings your grandfather and Jaehyun, that’s something you think you’re both cursed on.

It wasn’t too far on the road that you kept missing him. Regretting not carrying the film strip with pictures of you both to look at him at every moment now. Your only token of his existence came from the piece of paper between your fingers. Flapping around with the harsh air coming in from your grandfather’s rapid driving.

You believe it smells like him, Jaehyun’s soft musk that you love with all your being. It’s even warm from his grasp, and his pretty handwriting taunts you, letting you know it was permanent on it unlike with you. The paper will remember Jaehyun’s actions against it, it has proof, not like you who will rot at the fact that his actions can be erased easily. What’s worse is that the paper continues to torture you, freeing itself from your fingers and flying out of the car at a rate that even if your grandfather stops you won’t catch up to it nor find it.

“No!”

Your words are useless and frightening to be heard from the elders who question what happened. You tell them between sobs, losing all composure. Hunching over yourself to cry against your knees. This was it, you knew it was too good to be true. Your only hope relies on the letter Jaehyun will send you.

Letters that will never arrive.

Questions. There’s plenty of those that have plagued Jaehyun’s mind since he left. He remembers leaving on great terms but as the months progressed his letters were left unanswered. If he had taken in the home phone number or Gabby’s he’d call for them years ago. Instead he found himself at the front door of the place he once called home with a panic rushing through his blood stream but hopeful nostalgia in his heart. 

There was a doorbell outside of the patio door, it had been painted orange. Very fluorescent, it reminded him of Gabby’s store. He had passed by it on his way here, buying a few beers like the day he learnt he had to go back. She didn’t remember him and he made no effort to remind her. Some things are better left in the past.

He didn’t hear many animals inside and it worried him, scared of how much change had been done. It took a couple of minutes for the door to be answered. Received by the presence of a kid he didn’t know but seemed to be around three years old.

“Who?” He looks at Jaehyun quizzically, tilting his head like Ollie used to do. “Um… is Mr. and Mrs–”  “Don’t open doors, how many times do I have to tell you that!” 

Well there’s a voice he recognized. Jaehyun stood up straight, looking up from the kid to the owner of the voice. When both took in the image of the other, Ollie was the first to take Jaehyun into an embrace. So much giddiness and joy in his squeal that he felt like that nineteen year old again. Even his grasp is childish and brute, shaking Jaehyun around. Jaehyun laughs, squeezing Ollie in return.

“I didn’t think you’d ever come back! When did you get here?” The patio looked the same. Fewer sheep and goats in the pen, Camila was gone and replaced with a pig. The dogs were strangers to him and the cats seemed to have forgotten him just like the chickens.

Ollie led him to the kitchen, at least that remained the same and he felt comforted by that fact. The two took a seat not far from each other, firewood crackling in the chimney to bring them warmth. Jaehyun handed him a beer bottle, cheering for his return and Ollie’s growth. 

“Why didn’t you think I’d return? I promised you all I would.” Jaehyun smiles, wiping away the alcohol residue from his lips. Ollie shrugs, doing the same. “You never kept in contact so after a few months of not getting your letters we lost hope. I was really mad at you for the longest time… I thought you had just abandoned us… Y/n.”

Jaehyun is aware of the spite in his tone but he can’t help but feel vindicated for something that isn’t true. His eyebrows furrow, leaning over the table for Ollie to feel his confusion. The younger one tilts his head like the boy from earlier.

“Ollie, I kept sending letters nearly every week for the past five years. I thought you all were the ones to leave me in the cold. What do you mean I didn’t keep in contact?” The roles seemed to have reversed. Ollie mimicked Jaehyun’s stance, elbows on the table while downing the remains of his drink.

“We never got a single letter. Pa was so disappointed he cried often about it. Ma didn’t but it was obvious in the way she took care of her plants. Your departure was enough but you really hurt them after that, they saw you as a son, you know.” Ollie shakes his head, swatting a fly away to avoid looking at Jaehyun.

“And Y/n… you really ruined her, Jaehyun. She would spend days in your room hoping to find an address or a phone number. At least to reproach your actions but instead she would cry herself to sleep in there. Her parents had to take her back home after a year, so she found a job and Ma and Pa were taken in by their daughter. She was doing better by then but still had to stay in the city just in case. They left me to take care of the house but it’s not the same.” 

Ollie’s voice is no longer harsh, it’s hurt. Jaehyun can’t help but blame himself with how things unfolded but he was sure he wrote those letters. He kept copies of them to recall everything he once said to you and them and if he had known you never received them, he would’ve bought them.

“I-I…” He sighs, “I promise I sent the letters! I made sure to drop them off at the publishing house’s mailing room. I can’t believe this…” His hand comes to his forehead but Ollie shrugs, picking at some peanuts he had laying around. “Beats me then. Why didn’t you visit in that case? We waited long enough.” 

Reality is that there will always be evil lurking around and seeing how this place brought you joy and peace, the publishing house did everything in their power to yank it away from him. Jaehyun isn’t a bubbling author full of life and hope. No, Jaehyun is a bleak cynical writer who dwells on the hatred he has for the house and manifests it through broody characters that find no meaning in life. If they had to bring that back, they would. He can have his one train wreck of a joyful book but newcomers have to go back to what they were. 

Jaehyun’s head hangs low, all excuses feeling useless. “Manger and publisher didn’t let me. We spent two years editing the final draft and by the following, publishing was in the works but the investors tried everything to change it that we had to fight for another year or so. I wasn’t even allowed to visit my parents, they had to come to me. Isn’t that insane?”

Ollie nods, sympathy and pity muddling on his face. Cruelty at its finest.

“We only traveled for promotions at the end of last year once it was published and some months after this one but I ‘escaped’ if you will and here I am.” His smile twists to the side, dawning upon him that misery will accompany him everywhere he goes.

“I’m sorry.” 

“For what? It’s not your fault.” Jaehyun hands him another bottle. Ollie nods, “I know, but things could’ve been different if you didn’t work in hell.”

The two laugh, clinking their bottles again. All was lost but one thing and that was the hope of Ollie helping him connect with you and explain it all. He didn’t want you to have such a bad image of him when all he’s ever done is show you how much he loves you.

“What have you done with your life then?” “I got married and had a kid. The brat from out there.” 

The kid had been playing with the hens outside the sprint door. Cats surrounded him and reminded Jaehyun of Ollie when he used to play with the animals while pretending to be doing labor work. 

“Looks just like you.” The younger hums. “He’s just like me too.” The two laugh heartily, reminiscing on your grandfather’s laugh. 

He hesitates for a moment but ultimately asks. “How’s Y/n doing?” There’s longing in his voice but the look in Ollie’s eyes tells him something isn’t right. The fact that he’s holding back a cough, a grave clue. The younger one wants to stall but knows that eventually he’ll find out if he keeps looking. 

“Y/n is soon to get engaged…” Like a bucket of cold water, Jaehyun feels his arteries clog and his body run cold, turning stone hard. “She’s been seeing a guy from work for the past two years, they relocated him to somewhere in Maranello, and now they’re living there. He sent a letter asking me to be there for when he proposes… I got the letter yesterday actually.” 

Ollie handed him the letter still inside the envelope. “He’s a nice guy but lacks some sense. He treats her well and provides for her but I’m not sure if it’ll thrive.” 

The now father stands up with a bucket of corn kernels, calling his child to feed the chickens while they’re all huddled together. He gives Jaehyun one last look with a mischievous smile plastered on his face.

“You’re welcome to stay, in your old room or here.” Jaehyun thanks him. “Landline has long overseas calls now, do with that as you will.” A toothy reassuring grin, Ollie walks out of the home leaving Jaehyun to his vices.

He gives the boys one last look, gaze dropping to the letter and reading over it around four times. It lacks emotion, it’s formal and only demonstrates excitement when describing your work on the garden. The only thing that reminds you of this place now that you’re miles away. Behind it is a letter written by you.

‘Very well, I’ll send you a care package later, Ollie. I wanted to remind you that we have a new phone so I’ve written it down. Don’t forget to write it down in the contact book or you’ll have to find a way to call me this time!

I love you, Gremlin, take care!

Sincerely, Y/n.’

If the angels weren’t clear as day, then he was stupid if he didn’t take the opportunity. 

Jumping out of his seat to the bar, Jaehyun stumbles to grab the phone, nothing like Gabby’s old dinky phone. He dials the foreign numbers, fingers tracing over your written name to feel the connection you did with the paper that lasted you a measly few hours.

“Hello?”

That sweet voice transported him five years to the past. Trembling within the walls of his brain and heart, waking up whatever joy he once felt before leaving this wonderful place. Even when your voice seemed aggravated from the silence on his end while garnering courage, he felt alive again.

“Hello?!”

He sighs, clutching to the phone for dear life, facing the outside allowing the sun rays to fall on him like the day he rested over your exposed body to feel your heart and soul envelop him in the love you once –and he hopes you still have– had for him.

“Y/n–” “...” 

The hesitance hurts, old feelings swarming in like a desired plague. You won’t ever forget that voice.

“Jaehyun…” “I remember everything.”