#but i have always dreamed of having a home of my own and i can have all my pets and plants ect ect

[ja3yun]

To, Future You | S.JY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hi, Y/N.

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

Anyway, hi again!

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

Is that too harsh? 

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

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

I’m jealous of him just thinking about it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ Your secret admirer.

LOL imagine I left you hanging like that :P 

~ It’s Jaeyun (Sim, not Lee)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*ping*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In all honesty, you might need one as well.

_____

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This damn letter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, tell me about being a lawyer.”

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby, you’ve had me for a lifetime.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then tell me you’re happy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There is nothing holding you back except yourself.

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

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

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

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

perm taglist: @immortalvee @snoopypupp @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @pockettwinzz @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @emi-en @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @iikeustar @shawnyle

[hoesformatt]

“YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT”

chris smut, this was an old draft but i fixed it up and here we finally have the long awaited plug fic…

dom!plug!chris • poc!reader friendly

contains: mentions of smoking and drinking, choking, heavy petting, making out, edging, orgasm denial, cowgirl, pet names, no use of y/n

word count: 1.5k

not proofread

It was getting late, I was getting lonely and bored so I decided to go grab my smoke bag to find my tin. I got all giddy when I found my tin, but then my smile disappeared when I felt there was no weight to the tin.

Please tell me there’s something in here, please tell me there’s something in here, I repeated in my head but to no surprise, there was nothing but the whiff of weed and my hopes and dreams.

I contemplated on what I was going to do on my Saturday, either sit here and puff on my nicotine til I got nic sick, or call my plug aka my late night therapist, which I did not want to do.

He is my last resort call because of our history, my plug was one of the scariest people I’ve ever met and I try not to ring him too much because I do not want to see him… but I do at the same time. He is fine as fuck, I can’t deny that shit but I am petrified by him even so I’ve never given him my address and I always meet him at his place.

I decided to face my fears and shot him a text

Are u up?

What do you need mama

He replied immediately and called me that pet name that gave me instant butterflies

I ran out, I need a new pack of woods

it’s about fucking time

My heart dropped to my ass

you buy so much shit and then dip, I like seeing you

Fuck, what do I say. I was lowkey feeling how he was flirting with me. My thoughts were interrupted by another text

Let me pull up on you

Hell the fuck no.

The usual place?

Nah

Lemme pull up, it’s late and shit

It’s no problem, the usual place is good i’ll be there in 10

Being left on delivered, I was tripping out at this point. I guess I’m thugging it out tonight… sober. I grabbed my juicy peach ice, geek bar from the cushion beside taking a puff. May the pulse be with you I guess, I was thinking in my head too much, trying to remember where I put my blinker.

Hearing a car driving past my driveway, I glanced at my front door and the window beside it trying to see who is. A car door shut close and then the door soon began to jiggle and open.

I frantically ran into the kitchen but when I turned around and looked in the living room I saw my plug walking into my home, holding a plastic white bag, bee-lining for my couch “FUCK CHRIS, What the fuck are you doing here, how the fuck do you know where I live?!” This is exactly why I’m terrified of him.

My heart felt like it was beating 1000 beats per second right now, and it was not going down. It’s like he was a serial killer out for my blood. Apart from the fact that Chris walked into my house as if he owned it, I’m half naked wearing the smallest Ethika set ever.

My eyes almost instantly scaled to crotch, clothed behind his grey sweatpants. “I followed you home before” Chris had two paper bags, pulling out a dark liquor and a bottle of tequila. I was trying to still catch my breath, attempting to register everything at once. “Last time you needed shit it was around this time, a rando was watching you, so I followed him to your house,” Chris said it so casually, popping open the Hennessy “You have shot glasses? and chasers?” He looked up at me for a response.

Finally, I calmed myself down after he told me someone was following me and I just pulled out the glasses and sodas from my fridge “Get yourself one too” He suggested.

He then got up taking the can of Pepsi and the glass from my hands to my living room table. I slowly followed after him, finding my place, far away from him. “C’mere baby, don’t be shy” Chris gestured for me to sit beside him and I didn’t move an inch.

Chris grabbed his waistline pulling out a gun from there, tossing it casually across the other side of him then looked back at me. “Now what?” He arose from his seat to come and sit next to me, sliding a shot to me. “It’s too late for me to drink” I came up with a petty excuse. Chris scoffed, downing both of the shots without making a face, straight Hennessy.

“Ok.” He raised out of the position he was in taking the white bag beside him opening it pulling out packs of woods. “How much are you gonna buy then, since you want me gone.” I snatched two packs the Loose Leaf, Watermelon Dream from the pile, almost salivating about the thought of the high I was going to get. “Let me get my wallet” I got up but Chris’ legs were in my way “‘Xcuse” When I walked past him my ass brushed his face which Chris touched.

I gazed down at him, completely infatuated by my juicy ass, unable to keep his hands to himself. I brushed it off since I was too happy to care. I collected my wallet pulling out my cash, I handed it to him, still standing up “I don’t want your money” He said flinging the money in my direction. Chris’ glacial blue eyes fucked me, and he found it hard to control himself. I noticed his cock grew hard in his sweatpants, and he bucked his hips upwards, enticing me. “You know what I want.”

Finally I gave in, straddling his lap and his hands immediately pulled me down to press upon his hardness. I waved my hips, making him moan as I took control.

Chris grasped my neck with aggression while stripping me of my tube top, lowering it. He latched his lips to my nipples, moving his hands down to my hips and helping me wave them. “Take your shorts off.”

Raising me, I removed my shorts in anticipation as he set free his large length that slapped against his stomach. He whipped out a condom from one of his pockets sliding it onto his length. When I got back on his lap, he had licked his two fingers, dipping them into me then back out to lick his fingers. “You must love me with the way you’re so wet for me” Chris smirked, aligning himself to my pulsing cunt. He pushed my hips down to settle onto his cock, I threw my head back to the feeling of him stretching me out.

With no patience Chris began to thrust upwards with a tight grip on my waist, making my tits jump. I cupped my hands over my mouth because I couldn’t show him how good he was making me feel, reaching points I didn’t know were there. Chris smacked my hand "Don't cover your mouth, I want to hear you” The sounds of his raspy voice and the wet noises faded together, I felt our wetness puddle under me. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel” Chris whispered in my ear.

I couldn’t believe that he was making me cum so quickly and he knew it, so he took his thumb and massaged my clit relentlessly trying to get the words out of me. “Tell me.” I shook my head no but my body was beginning to grow tired. Then he stopped. He stopped thrusting into me and I whined, “If I don’t make you fell good you should do it yourself right?” Chris didn’t care at all and I needed my release badly.

I took both of his wrist, putting them behind his head to ride my high. My erotic movements made Chris twitch inside me as he hit wall to wall.

It was so addicting that I wanted to feel him raw inside me and when I pulled his cock out of me, the condom was coated his sticky liquids. I yanked the rubber off his length and it slowly rolled up until it was off and I threw it elsewhere, jumping back on his dick.

Chris succumbed to my wetness, whimpering loudly as I wrapped around him. I bounced on his cock, hoping that my legs wouldn’t give up on me but Chris suddenly decided to take control again and ram into me. “I need to cum, I need to cum, please, please” I begged Chris to let me cum, reaching my climax. “Yes Chris, yes, yes—” Just as I was about to cum, Chris pulled out again and this time he threw me back on the couch.

“Please Chris, why— ” He had put back on his pants, packing up the rest of his shit.

“I don’t fuck ungrateful whores” He said casually, gripping my hair and kissing my cheek.

tags: @lunariaxzz @chrissturniolosbitch @leahsbussy @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @idkwhosnyla @zayyluvz @i8kth @nonamegirlxsturniolo @ka1nani @livvy4realll @fuzzycupcakebeliever @mattgirly @love4chris @mattslutt @nickgetsmewetter @hearts4chriss @thenickgirl @jnkvivi

[jokeroutsubs]

[ENG translation] Jure Maček, Joker Out's drummer: "I don't have time for dating"

An article and interview with Jure Maček, published in Suzy magazine on 1.3.2024.

Original article is available here for Slovenske novice subscribers. Article written by Anita Krizmanić for Suzy magazine. English translation by a member of JokerOutSubs, proofread by IG GBoleyn123.

Music has accompanied the 27-year-old from Logatec since early childhood. He fell in love with it because of his father and grandfather, who were excellent musicians themselves. Besides them, he also had a number of other great teachers who introduced him to various genres, he played in the symphony orchestra and several bands, and just over three years ago, he finally found what he had been looking for – Joker Out, the band that became his new family. A pleasant and open conversation partner, who believed in his dreams and is living them today, gave us an honest interview about what his journey was like before he and his band embarked on the incredible odyssey that started last year before Eurovision.

Tours are tiring, but also incredibly exciting. // "They wouldn't let me play the drums in music school, because they weren't on the curriculum, so I decided that I would learn how to play them on my own."

"Each of us dreamed about one day finding ourselves where we are now. We're aware that many people don't have that chance. We miss home, we haven't been there very often in the past year, which we've already got used to. To each other, as well. We support each other and we know how to coexist. We're doing just fine, but there are moments when you have to grin and bear it. There aren't many of those, though, because we're mostly having a good time and we enjoy making music," a smiling Jure tells us from London, where the boys have been temporarily living and creating since the beginning of the year.

During our chat, he walks around the city and tells us that life with Bojan, Kris, Nace and Jan is very simple. "Because we're great friends, even though we could all use a moment of solitude now and then. Especially now that we're living in a small London apartment. But we know each other so well that we know what each of us is like, when and why he's in a bad mood, what he needs, and how to fix a certain situation. We're a nice and happy family," he smiles, and adds that they all know how to take a step back, but at the same time, they're firm when they want to emphasise their idea or opinion.

"Sometimes it's better if someone says what they're thinking out loud, presents their idea, and if we collectively latch onto something, we can get great results. It's the same with music," he continues.

LIVING HIS DREAMS AT PEACE

The fruits of their hard and dedicated labour over the past few weeks can already be seen, some are yet to materialise. The band recently sent 'Everybody's Waiting' out into the world, a song that centres the personal thoughts and contemplations that accompany many young people.

"When we make music, we try not to think about other worlds and the audience. When a song is being made, each of us has to feel it and add a small part of what makes him happy to it. When we get to the point where all of us are happy with our work, we know that we created something good, and that's also when people can feel it or find themselves in it," he says.

Joker Out, with their magic and meaningfulness, always take us into worlds where everyone is safe and understood, even when they think they're not. He agrees that a loving attitude towards yourself and others is key in the chaotic world that surrounds us.

"I am at peace with the people around me. I appreciate them very much and they make me even more happy to be in this world." He is grateful for fulfilling his dreams, which he never let anyone take from him as a young musician. "I currently make a living only from music, so I am living my dreams," he smiles.

After working on the album, the boys are leaving for the European tour.

DRUMMERS LIKE CONTROL

As a drummer, he keeps in the background, but that doesn't mean he lives in the band's shadow. "We're special people. We're happiest if things are under control. Just the fact that we sit all the way in the back says enough. You can see everything from there," he says, and adds that drummers are pretty technical types who are more reserved than the other band members. "We like the space we create for ourselves around the drums. That is our world and we really enjoy it. We're pretty nuts," he jokes.

We also chat about the band's fans, who are a unique phenomenon, as they know all the lyrics. "It's a crazy feeling when people abroad sing songs in Slovenian." Otherwise, he never craved attention and he's pretty introverted. "Out of everyone in the band, I'm the least enthusiastic about hanging out after gigs, not because I don't like the fans, but because I like my peace. I need time for myself after performances, which the fans very much respect and understand. After each gig, we take time to meet people, even if not all of us are there."

Despite looking thousands of girls in the eyes at gigs, his heart is currently not taken. "There's no time for dating. There was none last year, and none this year yet either," he laughs.

STEALING HIS MUM'S POTS

During our conversation, we also touch on his upbringing, and he tells me that he fell in love with music as a child, since his father Mitja and grandfather Cveto were also musicians. "I remember dancing around the living room with grandpa on Sundays, and moments when I stole my mum's pots from the kitchen, took them to the living room and banged on them with full force. All of that moved something inside me, leading me to being a musician today," he's convinced.

Another key moment happened when his father, who was also a drummer, took him to the concert of the guitarist and frontman of Dire Straits, Mark Knopfler, in Tivoli Hall as a boy. "That was probably where it first became clear to me that I really wanted this," he says. His parents enrolled him in the music school in Logatec where he studied percussion instruments for eight years, he played in a brass band and a symphony orchestra, he was a member of various bands in elementary school.

"They wouldn't let me play the drums in music school, because they weren't on the curriculum, so I decided that I would learn how to play them on my own. After that, I had a more and more successful band each year, it escalated until I joined Joker Out," he remembers his younger years, when he was getting to know various genres and enjoying his calling more and more each year.

"We drummers are special people," says Jure.

FALLING IN LOVE WITH FILMING BECAUSE OF HIS DAD

Music, however, wasn't the only thing he spent years getting to know. In high school, thanks in part to his uncle and his dad, who often took him to the field with him as a cameraman, he worked as a correspondent cameraman and editor for RTV Slovenia (Slovenian national television). "When they were looking for a cameraman at RTV Slovenia, I already knew and understood a lot of things. I kind of miss that job. It was very varied because I spent a lot of time in the field, I was at sports, cultural, and political events. During the time when I was both a cameraman and a musician, I realised that there were a lot of parallels between those worlds."

Now, he sometimes misses a slightly more regular schedule. "I used to be home at four in the afternoon, now I won't be home until May," laughs the likable drummer, who really liked working as a cameraman, but was mainly driven by his commitment to music. Now, for just over three years, he's been part of a band in which he's found something more. "I actually didn't really know how to get to that point, because in Slovenia, we often hear that you can't make a living from music and it might be better to find something else, that it's difficult to survive in the music world, that it's not worth it. But there was always something driving me so strongly that I was determined to prove to myself and others that it's possible."

THE CAMERA IS ALWAYS ON

If you want it strongly enough, you can achieve anything you want, he says. He's sure that as a musician, he will never achieve anything bigger than Joker Out. "Even though I like to emphasise that I'm living my dreams, it's not all sunshine and roses. The music world can be very tough, you have to fight every day, because you don't know what you're getting yourself into and what the result will be. Everything is a little unknown."

While the members of Joker Out are constantly discovering new unknown things in their creative world, they're definitely not unknown on the music scene. They caress our ears and souls with their finely crafted lyrics and excellent music. Their fans can now even hope that these outstanding young musicians will record a documentary about their journey in the near future. "We started recording in 2021 and we have a lot of things in stock that might interest people. With us, it's like this: when we're on tour, the camera can be on at any moment, so we have to be a little mindful of how we behave. Actually, everything is recorded – backstage, travelling, hotels, arguments, as well as lovely moments!"

The fans are thrilled by his not-at-all-reserved photos.

DREAMING OF SUMMER AND CAMPING

The magical pinnacle of the band's musical odyssey, which started even before their acclaimed Eurovision performance, happened last October in sold-out Stožice. On this colourful journey, they only had a moment to catch their breath at home before setting off again for new adventures. After a temporary move to London, the boys travelled to Helsinki on the 28th of February, where they did production rehearsals, and their European tour starts on the 1st of March. "We will board the bus which we will live on for one month. I'm looking forward to this experience and the bus tour, as it will be our longest yet," he doesn't hide his excitement. The band will come back to Slovenia for seven days at the end of March to regain their strength, then they will have a few performances in the UK, and on the 15th of April, they will lock themselves into a studio in Hamburg for a month, recording the album that was created in London.

"This year, we were home for three days, until the 4th of January, which makes the days spent in Slovenia even more precious," adds Jure, who is endlessly excited for the summer. "I've seen enough hotels in the past year, so I want a genuine holiday like in the old days, when a friend and I converted a car to be able to sleep in a camp. I miss simple holidays in nature and without a phone. That's what I really want this year, at least for a week or so," one of the most charismatic Slovenian drummers reveals his humble wish to us.

If you repost quotes from the interview, please link back to this post!

[songsofadelaide]

"Can you kiss me?"

Your words hung thick in the balmy night air, so much so that you felt like you could take them back at any moment.

"It doesn't have to mean anything."

Yet Satoru heard them as clear as day with how close he stood before you. His blue eyes were bright with confusion at your sudden request, though it was something he felt inclined to fulfill.

For many long years, you two orbited each other like celestial bodies, sometimes following the same path but most of the time just passing by each other. Satoru was one of your older brother's closest friends, so it only made sense that he would see you as the little sister that you were. But you weren't just his best friend's little sister to him— you were a brilliant girl in your own right, but perhaps too smart for your own good. Men always wanted docile, unassuming women for themselves so their decisions would never be questioned, but you were neither, thus never fitting into your society's mould of how women should be. You were what they called the fruit at the bottom of the basket, but you were also the light of your elder brother's life— and his beloved headache, for you posed a problem for him if you couldn't find a husband for yourself anytime soon.

"All my life I've waited patiently, but I truly want to know what it's like to be kissed."

It doesn't have to mean anything, you remember yourself saying earlier. But you've adored him all your life and you've heard it from your brother yourself that Satoru would never give you the time of the day...

But he approached you carefully, so unlike he normally would, his blue eyes taking notice of the nervous quiver in your glossy lips. At that very moment, you had his complete and undivided attention and you couldn't quell the heaving of your chest as your heart jumped inside you, only for it to burst as he leaned down to tenderly press his lips against yours. His lips were warm against yours, moving against yours, coaxing you to follow his lead, and you could have sworn he moved to cup your face in his palm. And you couldn't tell if it was your cheek that was hot or if it was his hand that was burning.

Satoru kissed you with a fervour you've never experienced before and it somewhat scared you. What if you search the world for this kind of feeling but never find it again? You wouldn't even be surprised if that's the case. You loved Satoru, after all. For the longest time.

It doesn't have to mean anything, you reminded yourself, but that kiss was everything to you now. And you only asked him because it would mean so little to him since you held almost little to no sway over him at all.

You part from him with tears prickling your eyes and his breath still on your lips, but you don't forget to thank him for granting your request, inane as it may have sounded to him. He could only follow the trail of your dress as you disappeared into your family home once more, as you were obviously trying to spare yourself from any more embarrassment.

It was only when you haunted Satoru's dreams in ways he never thought you would— in ways he never thought he'd look at you— that he realised you actually do hold a lot of sway over him.

He woke up the next day and found a bowl of fresh fruit on their dining table, but he searched the very bottom of it for the one so bruised yet tender, and it proved to be the sweetest of them all.

"Now, what do I do with this new information?" He chuckled to himself as he savoured the moisture and flavour, only to be reminded of the tremble of your glossed lips from last night.

✦ Inspired by Penelope and Colin's first kiss (Bridgerton S3 x 01) omgdfdg I have so many emotions abt that scene lol.

[mothinabottle]

(Warning for hints at spoilers from some events below 😮)

Sydney, who practically glues themselves to the pews at the temple after you are gone. The scarf you left behind clutched tightly by their hands as they pray day and night.

They can only hope you are safe wherever you are, that the mission Jordan entrusted you with will go smoothly and you'll be back soon enough, reassuring them with your sole presence

But a month passes and you are still not by their side. The spear returns, yet you are missing. The temple's chants, the excitement for the holy item's appearance can barely reach them through the overwhelming sorrow that consumes their very soul. What is there to celebrate if you are not here? If their dreams are the only way for them to see you, how can they even face reality?

You are a liar, and them a fool for not doing more to protect you. If they had been stronger, maybe more courageous. If only they had gone there instead of you...

So they choose to believe, to ignore it all. If one more month passes, it doesn't matter: they know you'll be back...right?

Somehow, it feels as if a part of their life they managed to forget is repeating...

________________________

Whitney, who managed to send you off to the underground brothel, a stash of cash safe in their pocket as they go back home. Smirk plastered in their face, gloating about finally teaching you a lesson after you humilliated them in front of the whole school all this time.

Still, something doesn't feel right.

Finding themselves waiting for an annoying face when they are loitering under the rain, scribbling notes for someone who isn't in class, passing by the same alleyway thrice in silent hopes to see the one who only appears in missing posters.

Their mood sours, dreams haunted by snippets of memories where you are by their side. This wasn't how things were supposed to go after getting rid of you for good.

Perhaps a strong drink might help kill that weird gross feeling that has been pooling in their heart for these past few weeks. A trip to the local bar with their friends, the promise of some casual sex with a random whose face they won't remember.

But when the moment of truth comes, it's your face that replaces the one of their new conquest. Tugging at the strings of their heart with that insufferable smile you always seemed to have.

What's more pathetic than finding out your are in love while throwing up in a filthy alleyway? Alone, their mind racing to understand that that weird feeling has always been regret and sorrow...

Because they loved you, in their own twisted way, and there's no going back to how things used to be before.

Wasn't actually planning to write these as they are part of comics I wanted to do. However, I highly doubt I'll be able to, since time is limited and I am already dying over here, buried in studies and stuff.

_______________

Note: I want to draw but I am extremely sick, so you guys will only get my brainrot for now :(. Sorry

If it's written like ass, sorry. I did this in the bus I take back home while I had a horrible fever ;; (Though I promise I'll get better at this with time...Maybe)

[pennylanefics]

Tree House - Seth Jarvis

a/n: this turned out so much longer than i was expecting but ahhhh i love it!! it's so soft and some parts hurt my heart, and i finished it at like 1:40 in the morning when i needed to be sleeping but oh well !!

summary: seth takes you back to winnipeg for a visit and you come across an old tree house he spent a lot of time in

word count: ~2.3k

Ever since you first started dating, Seth wanted to take you back to Winnipeg with him for a week, just to show you where he grew up and the places frequented up until he was drafted. It was a dream of his to be able to share that side of him with you, and finally, the time had come.

With the offseason just starting, and in the only bit of free time that he had until he had to start practice every few days, he booked a trip up to Canada, renting out a nice little Airbnb in a location he knows pretty well, that’s slightly secluded with a beautiful view of the mountains in the distance.

He had the entire trip planned, even down to where you’d be having dinner each day, one of which he was taking you to his parents house, since his mom wanted to cook for you, and a couple days you would be going to his favorite restaurants; other days included ordering in and having a romantic date night inside.

It was a smooth trip so far, the flight was longer than you were expecting, Seth let you sleep on his shoulder for a majority of it, but when you finally landed, you were in awe of the sights already.

It was a country you’ve always wanted to visit, and now, you were right in the heart of Winnipeg, your boyfriend’s hometown, which made it all the more special.

“That over there is where I was skateboarding with some friends and wiped out. Got a nasty scrape on my elbow,” Seth points out to a spot in the middle of a park. He had ordered an uber to drive you to his parents house, who would then drive you out to your rental for the week.

They offered you to stay with them, but Seth was insistent on having time with you, alone, something he didn’t really want to tell his own mother. So he played it off as best as he could without being too over-the-top, basically explaining the simple version, that you were on a vacation together and wanted a space to yourselves.

When you arrive at his family’s house, his mother welcomes you in with open arms, asking how your flight was and wondering if you needed anything. You’ve met her plenty of times already, but this was a first, to be meeting her at her home; it felt different, but a good different.

After lots of conversations and catching up between the five of you, his dad loads your suitcases into their car, Seth’s brother hopping in his own and following behind; since you were borrowing their car for the week, his dad would need a ride back

A couple hours later, you and Seth have finally settled into bed, a movie playing in the background on the tv, but neither of you paying a single ounce of attention to it.

“What kind of plans do you have for us tomorrow, huh?” You ask, tracing your finger along his bare chest. He laughs softly and trails his own hand up and down your back.

“I thought we could do some sightseeing, you know, driving around to see my old schools, the rink I used to play at, maybe even pay the kids there a visit.”

“That sounds lovely,” you sigh.

“And I’m gonna take you to my favorite restaurant I always have to eat at when I’m back home,” he adds. “So we’ll go there for lunch after we wake up, and then drive around. There’s not really a ton to do, but it’s beautiful.”

“It has been so far, I can imagine what it’s like during the winter.”

“Gorgeous. Maybe we’ll come back for Christmas, it’s a magical place around then.”

You continue talking until you end up falling asleep before Seth, who remains awake, scrolling through his phone, his usual night owl tendencies not changing one bit.

The following day, after having a lovely lunch at Seth’s favorite restaurant, which you very much enjoyed, Seth exits the parking lot and starts driving around, knowing the area like the back of his hand, navigating so easily.

“So, over there,” he points to a small ice cream shop, “is where I was punched by some kid in seventh grade. He was saying all kinds of shit about me and my friends, so I stepped up, and he ended up socking me. The owner of the shop banned him for life from the premises, it was really fun to watch.”

“Oh god,” you laugh, looking at the shop a little closer now that you are stopped at a red light near it. “Is it any good?”

“They’re the best, they have the smoothest concretes. We’ll go there later today. Right now, we’re gonna head to the rink and surprise some kids. I hope that’s alright,” he looks over at you, a hint of worry evident in his tone and his expression.

“Yeah, it is. I can skate around for a little bit on my own while you teach them your great wisdom and knowledge.” Seth laughs and shakes his head, making a left turn into a parking lot.

You follow him inside and head right over to the skate rental booth, quickly getting into your own skates. Seth helps you tie yours, as he’s mastered the art of doing so, and helps you stand, walking over to where the entrance is.

Immediately, he is recognized, kids skating over to him, their eyes blown wide with shock and awe. Seth’s smile was so huge, greeting all the kids around him and giving all of them high fives. You grin a little and skate off in the opposite direction, giving him time to meet with them and allow them to pick his brain on certain things.

You make a couple trips around the rink, humming quietly to yourself to the music that was playing over the speakers not too loudly. Seth, even while talking to the kids and listening closely to them, still managed to look over at you every once in a while, wherever you were on the ice, just to make sure you were doing okay.

Deep down, he felt terrible for parting from you like this, but he always had to give back to the community that helped him get to where he was at, and he was very thankful that you were understanding of it all; in the back of his mind, he had ideas on how to make it up to you later tonight.

His little impromptu question and answer-mixed-meet and greet came to an end about an hour later, and you had been waiting in the stands for him, having left the ice halfway through, opting to read a book on your phone while the sounds of sticks smacking the ice and pucks hitting the boards filled the air.

Seth returns his skates and finds you, taking your hand and helping you up.

“Ready? I believe we have plans to find a secret spot that I haven’t visited in years,” he says, leading you out of the building and to his car.

“And where would that be?” You question, sliding into the passenger seat and buckling up.

“My old treehouse.”

He starts driving back near his house, turning into his subdivision and driving a little ways past where his house is. He comes up to the end of the street and parks on the side of the road, no houses around the space.

“Uh, are we going into the woods?” You ask, stepping out of the car and around to his side.

“Oh no. It’s just right on the edge over here. It’s not even woods, it’s just a small clearing that then leads to more houses in the back. No one owns this area, so my dad helped me and my friends build this little hideout, because we all lived on this street.”

He guides you through a little patch of trees, stopping at what appears to be a small hut in the middle of them. And he was right, because through the trees in front of you, you could clearly see another part of the subdivision, what appears to be someone’s backyard fence.

“This is where we’d come on bad days at school, or after tough losses at our games, we’d come and play video games on our DS’s, or we’d talk shit about people.”

“Ever gossip about girls you liked?” You nudge him playfully, and his face turns red, giving his answer away instantly, even if he tried to lie.

“We were boys, of course we were going to talk about that kinda stuff.” A gleeful laugh escapes your lips as Seth steps inside, sitting down on the ground. He pulls you down to sit between his legs, your back resting against his chest, his arms around your midsection and holding your hands in his.

“I tried not to be out here at night because it scared me, but some days, when I needed to get away from everything and everyone, I’d come here.” His tone was very soft and reminiscent of his childhood safe space. Looking around, you notice a ton of writing on the walls and ceiling, getting lost in all of the print from him and his friends.

“It seems like a great place to clear your mind,” you comment, chuckling as you find Seth’s large handwriting on the ceiling. Upon realizing what it says, your heart soars and you smile widely, feeling proud of your lover.

In his handwriting, it reads, ‘I will be in the NHL one day’. He sees you reading it and looks up with you, sighing a little.

“We all wrote our dreams up there. Mine was to be in the NHL, Darryl’s was to be a firefighter, Reese wanted to create a video game, and Matty wanted to become an FBI agent.” Your eyes scan over the four names and wishes written around Seth’s.

“Did they all achieve what they wrote?” Your eyes flicker to his brown eyes, pausing your reading of all the silly stuff him and his friends wrote every time they were in there.

“Darryl did become a firefighter, Reese, I believe, is still in college for game development and design, as well as animation, and Matty went into the military after high school. I forget which branch, but I do know he’s been rather successful there.”

“So writing your dreams out led them to becoming real,” you state, looking back up at it. Seth was overcome with emotion, tears filling his eyes as he thinks back to the moment that he wrote that. He never once believed it would actually happen, but here he is.

“Yeah,” he chokes out, clearing his throat a little.

This was a whole new side of Seth. He’s always been the funny one, cracking jokes or flirting with you, or his friends in a playful manner, but there are times where he lets his guard down, and for some reason, being back in this space has brought back so many memories and feelings.

“I remember being in here countless days by myself, laying on the ground, staring up at the ceiling; that was the first thing we wrote in here. So every time I saw it, I would imagine what it would be like to score the game-winning goal of the Stanley Cup. Every move I would make, even thinking of players I’d dreamed of playing with, what kind of passes I would make with them. Scoring that final goal that would give us the lead and secure the win. And…now I get to live that dream every day. Well, not in the Stanley Cup, however, hopefully sometime during my career. But I still get to have those moments, just in less high-stake games.”

You listen to him as he speaks, gazing up at him as he does. He was staring straight forward, his fingers playing with yours as he speaks, a comforting action he does when he gets nervous.

“And it led me to you,” his head turns down to catch your eyes, one of his hands coming up to cradle your cheek. “Another thing I wrote on the wall was finding the love of my life.” He pauses to adjust his body a little, and you wait to settle back down in his arms. He clears his throat and prepares to open up even more once you get comfortable again.

“When my girlfriend broke up with me my junior year of high school, after two years of dating, I spent hours in here that night. My dad had to bring me dinner because I refused to leave, I didn’t want to see anyone. I cried and cried and cried, because being naive, I thought she was it for me. I wanted the whole highschool sweethearts thing, but I got a little ahead of myself. So that’s when I wrote that down, to have hope that I’d find my person and the one made for me. Because in that moment, I was broken. I didn’t want to believe in love, but I knew I couldn’t keep that mindset, I knew someone would be out there in the world, waiting for me to give my love to them.”

In the middle of speaking, he sticks his arm out and his hand lands on the words written in red, his fingers gently grazing over the rough wood permanently marked with his writing. Sitting up to get a better look at it, you see Seth’s chicken scratch, but are able to make it out just enough. ‘Find my soulmate. I know she’s out there’.

Seth’s expression changes again, his eyes filling with adoration and love for you, a small, thoughtful grin on his lips. His tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip, his hand returning to your face to gently caress your cheek.

“And I found her.”

taglist: @petite-potato4

[aireia]

Am I the ocean you dream of? -- Nanami Kento

tw/cw: gn! reader, angst angst angst, hurt no comfort, nanami's dead.

note: it's almost 1AM. —masterlist

The sound of whirring engines and conversations filled your ears. You leaned back on your seat and looked out the window, the clouds are unhappy today. A sigh left your lips, and you flipped open the small book in your hand. Well, book wasn’t exactly the right word. It was more of a journal, a diary, even. More specifically, the diary of your late lover, Nanami Kento.

Your eyes scanned over the neat cursive handwriting you would’ve recognised in a room stacked to the brim with papers, and you closed your eyes, then tried to remember how you got here in the first place. 

Ah, there it was. You remember how empty you felt the few weeks after the Shibuya incident. You should have convinced him harder to not go, but you knew what he was like. If he is needed, he will show up, even more so because the students were there. Your eyebags were heavy and your movements were sloppy around the apartments as you cleaned through some of the things Nanami owned, and you came across a book with a leather cover, the one you’d always see him write in at night. 

You knew it was an invasion of his privacy, but curiosity got the best of you. You turned the cover and for minutes, you just stood there, staring at the words on the first page. There was nothing there, just his name, and a date. The date of your anniversary, that is. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had started a new book because it symbolised a new chapter of his life with you, or that he had run out of pages in his old journal.

You flipped to the second page, and there it was. “I bought roses to confess to y/n today.” You gulped as you continued reading. “They’re currently asleep on my couch. I’ll leave them something to eat tomorrow because I need to head out early.” 

You could feel the tears welling in your eyes as you continued reading, and one specific page caught your eye. 

“Maybe I’ll bring them to Malaysia for a holiday. Kuantan seems like a good place.”

Right. He’s talked to you about it before, and the last time he’s mentioned it was a while before he got busy with work, always coming home with different bruises and injuries. Hell, he even told you that he thought about moving there with you.

And here you are now, on a seven hour flight from Japan to Malaysia. Your tired eyes continue scanning over the words, and now you aren’t sure whether you’re just staring at the words or actually reading, because you’ve found yourself reading Nanami’s diary at night when you’re unable to sleep. The thoughts you’ve read inside were all things he’d whisper into your ear at night, and those nights you’ve had the book in your hands as you read through, a faint voice of his remains at the back of your mind, as if he were the one reading to you instead.

There was one in particular that you kept going back to. You remember the one time both of you were extremely tired, but Nanami had insisted on cooking dinner for the both of you. He ended up overseasoning the food, and it was too salty to be edible. You laughed at how many times he tried to apologise while you were busy giggling to yourself about how the ‘great cook Kento’ had finally messed up his cooking. 

Now, as you close your eyes as the plane begins its take off, you realise there’s no one’s shoulder for you to rest your head on when you fall asleep. 

When you open your eyes again, everything is blurry, but you can feel the plane finally land on the solid ground. You’re here. The flight attendants see the passengers off the door, and the message the captain spoke through the speakers stuck in your mind. 

“For those returning to Malaysia, welcome home.” 

How you wished that were the case for you now. 

You collected your suitcases and went through the standard procedures, and the first thing you realised the moment you walked out the door was how hot Malaysia was as compared to Japan during this time. It’s winter in Japan, but it’s always summer in Malaysia. 

It wouldn’t be so bad living here, maybe. Then he wouldn’t need to hear you complain about the cold in winter. 

You booked a cab to your hotel. You purposely booked one near the beaches, so that you could walk to the beach after you got checked in. 

Though, that wasn’t really the case. You’re exhausted. Both from the flight and everything you’ve been through the past few months. The moment you got into your room, even though the sun was blaring hot outside, you just wanted to curl up and sleep for the next few days you were here. 

You’ve been telling yourself these days that Nanami’s had it worse, and he was more tired than you were, than you’ll ever be, but now, you’re in Malaysia, wanting to live his dreams for him… And suddenly, it all felt so wrong. You’re alone here, but where was he? He didn’t get to be here with you. 

Somehow, through your vision that was muddled by your tears, you convinced yourself to go to the beach. Perhaps it’s the final page of his diary you never brought yourself to read, the one he wrote the night before the Shibuya incident. 

“If anything happens, I’ll be waiting for them by the ocean.”

The calming sounds of the waves instantly reached your ears, and you took your sandals off before stepping onto the warm sand. With each step, the sand slots itself in between your toes, a tingling feeling you’ll probably never get rid of. You knew you’d never find him here. Maybe at the bottom of the ocean, he’d be waiting for you as a siren. 

The breeze of the ocean blew by, sticking to your hair. You walked towards the ocean and stepped into the water, shivering from how cold it was. You then crouched down and dipped your finger into the waves, and for a moment, you hesitated before bringing it to your mouth and licking it. You almost immediately regret your decision, laughing at yourself for how idiotic you must have looked. 

You breathed out heavily after, before trying your hardest to put on a genuine smile and smiling at the ocean.

“It’s salty.”

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

[writingsofwesteros]

Can we get some snippets of the first time Daemon took Rhaenyra’s new Lyseni servant at the beginning of broodmare? The actions that resulted in Aegon the younger

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

NSFW

It was hard not to notice the dark, hunger filled stares the rogue Prince had when the pretty maid Rhaenyra had found walked into the room. Thankfully or rather unfortunately for the Lyseni girl, the rest of the Dragonstone court was none the wiser. Not that anyone would have been able to stop Daemon from taking his desires. Still, she fought hard not to be left alone with the Prince. It seemed the Gods were not on her side for long. “It seems, little mouse - we are all alone.” Her eyes flashed up; the wall in her way as she heard the deep, familiar voice from behind. The pounding of her heart was easily in her ears as she gulped at finally being caught.

“My Prince…” She whispered so sweetly; eyes wide as she caught herself between the cold wall and the rogue in front of her. His smirk only widened and the hunger that was seemingly always in his stare gave a cold shiver down her spine. Daemon stalked closer; a predator with its prey as she backed into the wall once more. His amusement was easy to see as his smirk tugged on his lips once more and before she knew it; Daemon was pressed against her body. His greedy hands were already on her hips as his smile only widened some more. He was the embodiment of wickedness and the Prince only had eyes for the pretty, little maid.

His eyes grew dark in desire as he pressed her against the wall; those sweet, mouth watering ample breasts that had haunted his dreams were pushed against the dress and nearly began to spill out. Daemon had no control over his next movements as he tugged; ripping her pretty dress and his hot mouth was soon harshly sucking on a pretty pink, pebbled nipple. Her hand rested on his chest; the small strength she had was no match for the rogue Prince as she pushed against him. His dark chuckles rang in her ears as his free hand greedily reached for the skirts of her dress. “Oh, we are going to have so much fun together.” The maid did not know if to take such a thing as a promise or threat.

“Please–please..I ..” Her eyes widened; those soft, pouting lips parted as she felt his lager, rougher hand cup her pretty, bare pussy. A sharp gasp escaped her as Daemon’s slender fingers brushed through her puffy lips. “Such a whore I have in my home.” His cruel words had her whining; shaking her head but his fingers were soon coated in her slick arousal. Her sweet, sensitive clit was soon captured between his fingers as the Prince forced her to lock eyes with him. Daemon had dreamt about this moment and now it was all coming to pass more deliciously than he ever thought possible. “So fucking wet for me.” He purred; his head resting on her own as their eyes locked. 

Still, his pretty maid began to shake her head; eyes welling with tears as his fat, mushroom head pressed against her drooling pussy. Daemon was already leaking pre-cum as he smeared it against her sweet, pretty clit. Her face was still a pretty picture of shock, whilst the rogue Prince only smirked down at her; his bright eyes filled with want and desire. His free hand began to grope at her ample, covered breast as she began to shake her head once more. The act only had Daemon’s hard cock twitching. “Please - my prince..” Her voice cracked as he slowly began to push in. The stretch took her by surprise, as did the pleasure that began to wash over her without warning.

It seemed to read on her face as Daemon darkly chuckled in her ear and gave no pause before bottoming inside her in one thrust. “Good girl, that’s it -” He purred, brushing their noses together as he watched in delight as her sweet gasps of pain and pleasure came over him. His free hand greedily returned to her sweat, bouncing breast. Her hand gripped his tunic; held it so tight as she whined; eyes big and her sweet looking lips parted as Daemon only began to thrust. The sound of their bodies slapping against each other was so loud in the secluded area. The Prince soon passionately captured her soft lips in a messy kiss; his tongue pushing in her hot mouth without invitation.

He chuckles against her lips; his hand returning to the back of her neck now so the little maid could not escape. Tears fell down her face as she thought of Rhaenyra’s reaction and the sight of them only had Daemon’s cock twitching inside her. He grunts in her ear; whilst pushing deeper. Her own stomach tightens in anticipation. “Fuck, so good, hmm? Do you like it?” Daemon taunted her some more as he stared down; a ring of cream forming around his cock. “Of course you do..look at you.” Her head falls back as her eyes roll. Her legs are shaking as his fat, mushroom head pushes against her spongy spot with great practice and soon her climax rips through her.

She grabs at the rogue Prince as she cries out; Daemon allows her noises to be heard. There was nothing anyone who heard could do, even his wife. He pushes deeper in a desperate need to breed the pretty girl. The bruises that would appear on her soft skin in the morning was enough to push him over the edge. “No…no please!” She cried out as his cum flooded her with ease. His hold on her hips only tightened as Daemon pushed deep. It did not stop her wetness and his own release from dripping down his thick length. His lips were soon upon her once more as Daemon found himself calming down. “Shh, there there, sweet girl.” Still, she shook; those doe eyes of hers staring wide as the Prince stepped back. He gracefully placed his softening cock in his breeches whilst the little maid could only stare. “Now - I am sure we will see each other again.” Daemon purred as she gasped out; his larger hand cupped her still bare, messy pussy as his fingers were soaked with her arousal. “Very soon.” The Prince purred and before a reply could escape her; his cum covered fingers were soon pushed into her hot mouth. He pushed down on her tongue as she began to drool and all she could do was suck.

[outofangband]

two posts about Himring related folklore for @nelyoslegalteam

I’m making a post about folklore in Angband soon too!

my tag for posts related to the position of ex thralls in Beleriand is 'but ever the noldor feared' and post angband! there are more related posts there!

The folklore of Himring is complex and the line between rumor, truth, and campfire tale is blurred.

The people of Himring are a diverse population, mostly Noldor of Fëanor’s host but some of Nolofinwë’s too, who wanted to be closer to the front lines or who were actually stationed there, a small population of Northern Sindar, and of course a small population of Angband survivors making up mostly Sindar and Avarin elves who were captured before the Noldor returned to Beleriand (I’ve talked about this on many posts but I’m always glad to say more! It’s one of my favorite subjects!)

The stories come from within the March and throughout the rest of Beleriand.

Tales of the desolate landscape itself were sparse before Maedhros built his fortress though people had been known to disappear around those hill near the river wells but whether they were taken by the cold or elements or the enemy was unknown.

The residents of Himring have a wealth of stories.

There are those that are woven simply for amusement, or to pass the time or sharpen the mind on long nights of watch where all you see is an endless expanse of winter. It’s easy to become confused then.

They tell of strange lights in the snow, of fires that appear to burn through the storms but vanish when travelers veer too close, of monstrous shadows that only their frightened horses can see.

There are the inevitable tales and rumors of Angband and those who have seen it. Some are shared among survivors, to comfort, confirm and console. Stories and tales from the fortress inevitably make their way into communities with any survivors, then spread by those on the outside.

Some fall into the timeless game of comparing wounds, out of anger or a bitter sport. The nastier tales that win these little games sometimes leave their private circles.

Many are spread by others with varying intentions. Of course there is simple curiosity and misinformation but there are those who repeat the vicious accusations often leveled at escaped thralls and often, towards Maedhros himself. I went into that in the last ask you sent I think.

And then of course there is Tol Himling, the remnants of the fortress of Himring on a tiny island. Few visit it unless by great need in stormy seas. It does not appear on all maps of the ocean. It is said to be haunted for those who seek shelter in its ruins rarely find peace. They dream of a hell of iron far below the waves and of blinding lights and stark cliffs they have never seen.

Second, an idea I've mentioned here but have wanted to make a longer post about it too

Inspired by @welcomingdisaster ‘s fantastic world building prompt list here! Prompt: native bird

One of my favorite topics to write about is the societal place of ex thralls in Beleriand and the culture of belief around Angband.

Among some in Beleriand and later, throughout Middle Earth, barn owls are believed to be the spirits of other predatory animals. This is because they are pale, fallow colors and because, unlike other owls, they do not hoot. The sound of the barn owl is a breathy shrieking sound that has often been described as something unearthly. The most common name for barn owl in Sindarin roughly translates to ghost hunter. 

Although these birds are not believed to be ill omens nor pose any danger to elvenkind by most, they have developed an association with other beings who exist in the margins between life and death, who flee or were driven from their homes, and who have returned to a state of hunter or hunted. In First Age Beleriand, they were sometimes associated with former thralls of Angband, usually those nameless ones who never came home or who were exiled by their own kin and who survive as wild beasts. 

These elves, though not all believed them to be such anymore, existed somewhere between reality and legend in Beleriand and beyond. 

Nonetheless, stories of pale wraith like figures who stole from, attacked or even ate their own kind, who moved with an uncanny silence even beyond the ability of the Eldar…these stories melded perfectly with the vision of barn owls and their eerie calls.

These perhaps later morphed with the stories told by the men who followed Morgoth about the Eldar as a whole. (Obligatory Morwen mention here too).

In the frozen abodes of Himring, watchers on the ramparts pause as the shadow of a ghost hunter passes silently by the winter moon. Some turn away or mutter a prayer. Some watch still closer.

[agentrouka-blog]

So, I understand that Jon and Sansa’s stories parallel with each other, they started their story naive and hopeful, then were forced to deal with the reality of their environment and dream of home and family etc. They have a lot in common. What I do wonder, do they have any differences? Not differences that would repel each other, but could also complete each other? Dose my ask make any sense?

Hi there!

I'd say the theme of complemetary contrasts is far more developed for Sansa and Arya than for Sansa and Jon, who are placed in contrasting social positions but are very similar at their core.

But that's not to say they are identical and bring only the same things to the table. Jon is a more proactive leader, comfortable taking charge of a situation in a way Sansa is more reluctant to (but will).

Sansa is a great deal more prone to trying to analyze the feelings of the people around her or working with environmental social clues. (Not always, and not always successfully.)

Sansa correctly identifying high-ranking members of the court she has never seen before contrasts with Jon misidentifying Mance Rayder basednon superficial clues. In turn Jon's move to secure a suitable position with Maester Aemon for his friend Samwell is much quicker, bolder and more independent than Sansa generally acts, though she is growing.

Jon's anger and violence are far far closer to the surface (usually to his detriment), while Sansa can have trouble grasping her own power to say no (almost always to her detriment).

Sansa has a sense of self-worth that surpasses Jon's, even if she is less confident in her decision-making.

Overall, I think there is a more creative, harmony-seeking, empathetic energy to Sansa (and a greater tendency toward passivity), and a capacity to unravel, actively make change and think outside the box for Jon (and a greater tendency toward rash mistakes). A complementary take on creation and destruction and how they work well together.

[sweetrottenendings]

"Plea"

Lawrence Oleander x GN!Reader

I might make a part 2 to this idk i just luv my plant wife.

SFW, one single swear word, 899 words. You wanna go on a date with Lawrence. Maybe a little OOC? Still figuring out how i wanna portray him in my writing.

Once again MDNI i promise you this fandom isn't for you.

-

It’s been a long time since you’ve had fresh air- real fresh air, not just Lawrence opening the window a smidge after your pleading. Despite all the greenery littering his apartment (or- your home, the cage you’ll never leave.) it feels as if the oxygen has been sapped entirely. All that is left is the musk, the stench of rot and the way its salt infects your lungs. Is there a chemical mixture of salt and carbon dioxide? Probably, but it likely isn’t what you’re sucking in at the moment.

Sometimes however, it brings you comfort with the familiarity. Stockholm syndrome set in long ago, so long ago that you struggle to remember the moment it hit. You don’t think you’d have it any other way, you love Lawrence despite the revolting relationship that’s been curated in the space- you’re thinking about the air again.

The delicate sound of trickling water sounds out, Lawrence is watering the plants. He’s meticulous, as he is with everything he does. Eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed as he dictates the exact amount of water each plant requires. It’s moments like these where you get to observe him in his entirety. The way his form hunches, blonde hair that occasionally clings to his neck, bright blue eyes that used to haunt your nightmares but now soothe your dreams. If only there were a universe where you had met normally, where Lawrence wasn’t as disturbed as he is- and you could be a normal couple. One that goes on cute dates to the park, snuggles together at night when the rain gushes outside, loves each other like normal people and don’t prod at each others spinal cords-

You should stop that thought there.

A park date, you imagine that would be something he could enjoy- considering his affinity for nature. Perhaps he could even enjoy it in this universe? He loves you, he really does- in his own fucked up way. Plus you really, desperately need fresh air. You need to inhale it as hard as you can, to feel alive for once (But do you really want to feel alive?) compared to the hollow death you feel now. Lawrence would never take you out around people however, there will always be that part of him that worries you’ll run and abandon what you’ve created together. (You never will, he’s all you need.)

What about during the night? He could take you to any spot he chooses, hide you from anyone he sees- even tie you to him, surely you could make it look inconspicuous. It would be nice too, the weather during the night is pleasant and far more suited to what he’s used to. He might get angry though, he wouldn’t kill you but maybe he’d finally go through with the threat to cut off your limbs. After pondering for a moment, you decide it’s worth the risk.

Your voice cuts him out of the zone he’s found himself in- he turns sharply towards you. He isn’t as trembly as he used to be, now confident in his power over you. “Lawrence-” Your voice is soft, the way you’ve trained it to be, “I have a request…”

He stares at you, unblinking.

“This is t-the biggest thing I will ever ask of you, and I won’t be upset or surprised if you say no.” It’s not like your feelings matter anyway, but you hope it may soothe any anger. He places down the watering can with a soft sound and makes his way to you. You haven’t been tied up in a very long time, but sometimes you sit yourself in the same chair from the start- it’s almost comforting. He kneels down to your eye level with a stern stare, and nods- prompting you to continue.

“I-I want to go outside-” He inhales sharply “-with you…” He exhales. “A date, in a park maybe, during the night so there isn’t anyone around…” You give him a sweet smile, as loving as you can, “...it’d be just us, like it’s meant to be.” he continues to stare, blue eyes burning into your soul and eating whatever confidence you had left- jaws wide and unrelenting. He must be angry, surely, he’s going to cut your limbs off and tie you back up, you’ve destroyed everything!-

“Okay…” You blink.

“Okay?”

He nods “We… we can go out.” You feel your heart swell with the most joy you’ve felt in your life, it bursts at the seams like you’ve just gorged yourself at a buffet. You want to hug him- you reach your trembling arms out in hopes he understands, and he does. Taking you into his arms, soft yet oddly strong for someone like him, he wraps you into his being. A hand comes up to stroke your hair in a soothing gesture- you didn’t realise you had started crying. You nuzzle your face deep into his chest, a grateful mantra pouring from your forever scarred lips. He tilts your head up to face him- a warm smile splayed across his face, filled with nothing but love for you, only you, forever you.

His voice is the gentlest you’ve ever heard from him,

“If you try to run, I will kill you.”

You smile back,

“Good, I love you Lawrence…”

He doesn’t say it back, but he doesn’t have to. You know he loves you.

[tunaababee]

we will be everything we say - Chapter 8/Epilogue

masterlist // fic playlist // read on AO3 // overall rating: e // wc this chapter: 5.3k

Feyre Archeron has been best friends with Rhysand Sterling ever since she moved onto the same street when they were kids - the two became absolutely joined at the hip, with nothing able to come between them.

As they get older, life gets more complicated and things get harder. Not everything comes as naturally as it once did. People change, things happen, friends... drift.

But after drifting apart, maybe life can push them back together again, in time.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n: thank you all so much for coming with me on this journey. this fic has been my baby for a long while so it feels weird to have it fully out in the world, but i hope you've enjoyed! also, biggest shoutout to @climbthemountain2020 - the best beta reader a girl could ask for and without whom this fic wouldn't have been possible. <3

more smut in here btw! have fun <3

Chapter 8/Epilogue: forever and always

Being with Rhys felt so easy – as natural as breathing. Since they had gotten together a bit over a year ago, life hadn’t always been smooth sailing and stress-free, but it was definitely easier to roll with the punches with him by Feyre’s side. She wouldn’t trade it for the world, though she was still always in a bit of disbelief as to just how loving and kind he was towards her. Every day with him felt like a gift she didn’t deserve but treasured all the same.

Since that night, things had definitely moved… fast, to say the least. With any other person, Feyre would have thought that moving in together after only two months would have been insanity. But, of course, it had simply been a natural next step with the amount of time she spent at Rhys’ place and vice versa. Besides, they’d already spent twenty years getting to know each other – it’s been overly drawn out if you ask me, Rhys would say whenever she asked him if he was sure about it all. Soon enough, she’d gotten settled into the roomy apartment in Velaris over in uptown Prythian, and it had quickly gone from his to theirs. The first few months of living there he couldn’t help but get giddy like a schoolboy every time she called it home. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel the same way, but he gushed about it to her every minute he could, and it made her laugh. It certainly made her stomach flutter every time he followed ‘my home’ up with ‘my girl’ and ‘my Feyre’, though.

They’d set aside a workspace in the apartment that the two of them shared – Rhys busy designing dresses and suits and outfits in between paperwork at his ever-cluttered desk, Feyre painting and drawing and bringing her visions to life right next to him. Her art career had been kicking off at a steady pace – she was being regularly featured in various gallery shows, alongside her online art store comprised of her more fun works bringing in a comfortable amount of sales. Rhys was succeeding all on his own merit as well, which didn’t surprise Feyre in the slightest considering all his ambition. Night Triumphant was becoming more and more reputable as a brand, beginning to have a handful of brick-and-mortar stores slowly but surely expanding across the country, meaning he was travelling more often for work. The two of them would collaborate sometimes as well, with Feyre making artworks that got printed on custom fabric and made into the most stunning garments, often for her to wear if Rhys had his way. It wasn’t uncommon for one of them to find the other watching them work before they were all over one another. If there was one thing the two of them couldn’t ever get enough of, it was each other. They managed to make it work and live comfortably pursuing their dreams, and Feyre couldn’t think of another time she’d been so happy in her life.

But right now, it was New Year’s Eve, and the two of them had each been busy with their own respective business – Rhys had been trying to fulfil the higher demand from people wanting a stunning outfit over the holidays, while Feyre had been dealing with her own higher volume of orders for the giving season. Balancing time with their friends and family, each other, and working had been difficult and they’d definitely had to set some of it on the backburner to make sure they met all their commitments. Late nights, long days and bone-deep exhaustion that only that lazy week between Christmas and New Years could allow them to recover from. Both of them had been too tired to do much of anything besides sleep and binge Netflix together, but at least they were together.

Tonight, they had decided they should go and see their friends for a few drinks to help ring in the new year, the two of them having gone a little bit stir crazy after a while.

“We don’t have to stay out all night, right?” Feyre called from their bedroom, rifling through the closet in nothing but underwear and a bra to try and find a nice but comfortable outfit for the night.

“Not unless you want to, darling. But you know I’m never opposed to sneaking out of anything early with you.” Rhys’ tone was playful as he came up behind her, arms wrapping around her bare waist before pressing a kiss to the delicate spot between neck and shoulder.

She turned her head to press a kiss to his temple with a smile before focusing back on her task. “True, but we have to actually get out of the door to do that in the first place. Now go get ready!”

With a playful swat to his hip he let her go, hands in the air in mock defense before grabbing some clothes of his own and retreating to the bathroom. The cheeky, Cheshire Cat grin never left his face the whole time she could see him, and it always made her heart do a little flip, beating in double time. Everything about Rhys always made her feel like a kid with a schoolyard crush in the best way – like she was able to tangibly grab that lost time she hadn’t had with him in her hands and make it real.

Feyre carefully picked through the closet before settling on something that definitely leaned more on the casual side of things, but still made her look and feel good. She grabbed a tight-fitting white crop top, paired with her favourite black tennis skirt and thick, fleece-lined pantyhose to keep her warm despite the winter chill. Cute but comfy – exactly what she was after. There was also the added benefit of that it would drive Rhys a little bit insane, which she always took an immense amount of joy in.

As if he’d heard her thoughts like a moth to a flame, he came back into the room as she stood in front of their full-length mirror and pulled her top on. Rhys looked drop-dead gorgeous in a tight fitting henley shirt and dark blue jeans that outlined the quickly developing bulge in his jeans deliciously. She couldn’t help but smirk, fussing with the shirt and fiddling with the necklace around her neck – the same one he’d given her the night they had gotten together. She hadn’t stopped wearing it since.

There was a hunger in Rhys’ eyes as he leaned against the doorframe of their bedroom, biting his lip slightly as he folded his arms and raked his eyes over her.

“You almost ready to go, honey? I just need to grab my sneakers and a cardigan.” She looked at him over her shoulder, a twinkle in her eye as she schooled her face into the most innocent expression she could manage. She knew exactly what he was thinking when he looked at her like that.

“Mm, I’m not sure. I feel like I might have forgotten to do something before we go,” he said, crooking two fingers at her to beckon her closer, the silver rings he always wore gleaming against his skin. “Do you know what that could be, Feyre?”

Feyre took deliberately smaller steps than normal, drawing out the tension between them as she stalked closer and closer before she could slide her arms around his neck. “Mm, no idea what you could mean. What I do know is that if we don’t leave soon, we’re gonna be late to meet everyone else at Rita’s.”

He didn’t hesitate to grab her ass, roughly kneading the flesh there as Rhys tilted his head down to brush his lips over hers. “Let them fucking wait.”

Before Feyre could even try to pretend to put up a protest, he pressed his lips needily to hers, hands sliding down to the backs of her thighs to hoist her up effortlessly. Her back hit the wall, groaning into his mouth as she could feel his hips pressing relentlessly against her own as her legs wrapped round his waist. She couldn’t help but roll her hips to try and drive him even wilder, eliciting a delicious little moan from him that was music to her ears.

“You really thought we’d be able to leave the house on time? When you’re wearing that? Making yourself look all pretty just for me, hm?” Rhys’ lips and teeth made headway down the column of her neck, nibbling and biting and sucking to leave a trail of hickeys for everyone to see.

She hummed with satisfaction, a smile playing on her lips. “I thought I’d- ah- make at least a little effort since it’s N-New Years and all, what can I say?” A harsher nip to the crook of her neck made her gasp, a hand knotting itself firmly in his hair to press him closer as if there was any gap between them in the first place.

Rhys moved a hand from under her thigh to slip between their bodies, under her shirt, under her bra, to greedily palm at her breast and pull and tweak at her hardened peaks. He pulled his mouth away from her neck to lock his gaze with hers, an intensity in them that he reserved just for her. The eye contact with him always made everything feel so much… more and she lived for it.

“You can say my name as I make you take every inch of my cock,” Rhys grinded his hips against hers roughly to punctuate his sentence, rock hard against the searing-hot wet spot that was quickly soaking through her panties and beginning to show on the stockings she was wearing. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you Feyre? Being my little whore, taking everything I give you?”

She couldn’t do anything but whine, nodding dumbly as she tried to rut against him, attempting to develop more friction between their bodies. He smiled almost mischievously, gently placing Feyre onto her feet for barely a second before they were both scrambling – Feyre to yank her stockings and panties to the floor before tossing them aside, Rhys to be rid of his belt and undo his jeans. The moment he was finished, Rhys grabbed her hips with a bruising force that sent heat spearing through her centre. Feyre almost jumped back into his arms as he pushed her back into the same position they’d left off at. Her mind and body were practically putty in his hands, nothing but sticky, syrupy thoughts of the pleasure she knew full well he was capable of providing her running through her mind.

“You’re such a good fucking girl,” He muttered lowly, moving a hand lower and lower over her abdomen until his fingers began to drift teasingly through the folds of her pussy. “All soaking wet already.”

Her face was buried in the crook of Rhys’ neck, a desperate whimper leaving her as she bit down into his golden-brown skin with need. Her hips canted against his hand, fingers occasionally slipping inside her with exceptional ease before they drew right back out again. He was deliberately trying to drive her mad and it was working far too well. “Baby, please please fuck me already, pl-please, I need you- need you to fill me, unh- up so bad.”

The ministrations his hand provided stilled, Feyre’s head firmly falling back against the wall before she met his gaze. Rhys’ pupils were blown wide, his cock twitching at her words against her inner thigh. “Need me to fill you up, huh?”

Feyre nodded at him with a groan.

“Need to feel me come inside you? Fuck it into you nice and hard, like a little slut?”

She groaned lewdly at that, fingernails digging into the back of his neck. “Yes, baby, plea-ase.”

Without warning or ceremony, he lined himself up and quickly pushed inside her with no resistance, twin moans spilling from their mouths in delectable harmony. The hand that had been fisted around his cock quickly moved up to her neck, gripping lightly as the firm planes of Rhys’ body and his rough thrusts pinned her harder up against the wall over and over. The lock her legs had around his waist loosened, one of them pushed right back up with his free hand to hit as deep as he could, her feet bobbing up and down with every snap and roll of their hips into one another.

Feyre caught a glimpse of the two of them in the full length mirror she’d been preening in on the other side of the room a little while ago and oh god, the sight made a moan warble from her throat helplessly.

“Gonna fuck you so full, Feyre,” A whiny little ‘uh huh’ escaped her with every sentence, every ounce of filth he slurred into her ears. “Gonna make sure my darling is filled to the fucking brim, god, you were made for me.”

Feyre’s mind just got more and more hazy as she felt her climax build with each roll of her hips, every stroke of Rhys’ cock inside her pressing against that one spot that made her lose any sense she had. She could hear him babbling about so perfect and babygirl and would look so good with my baby inside you one day – it made it near impossible for her to form words or sentences even if she tried.

“C-Come, Rhys, I’m gonna c-“ Feyre didn’t even get to finish her sentence before she was letting the most depraved, guttural sound she’d ever heard loose from her throat as her walls tightened like a vice around Rhys’ cock. He kept fucking her right through, the sensation so intense that a stray few tears fell from her eyes as she focused solely on the complete ecstasy enveloping her. She was distantly aware of Rhys coming apart not long after her, making good on his promise to fill her well – sweat slicked his forehead, his gaze solely locked onto where their bodies joined and the slight hints of his spend she could feel leaking out of her around him.

After a few moments spent in the haze of each other’s warmth and embrace, peppered with kisses and sweet words mumbled in each other’s ears, Rhys pulled out – though not before gathering up what mess had dripped out of her cunt and indulging in a few extra moments inside her to fuck it right back in with a low moan. He slowly lowered her onto her feet, her legs trembling like baby fawn, barely keeping her up with the most satisfied look on her face. She looked down just as Rhys got to his knees, grabbing her soaked panties from the floor where they’d been hastily discarded and gently starting to coax them back onto her feet and up her legs. The span of his hands over her legs was comforting, the caring and delicate touches slowly bringing her back to reality as he helped her back into her stockings.

“We have to hurry Feyre darling; we’re going to be awfully late.” Rhys quipped as he stood up in front of her. She simply rolled her eyes with a laugh, lightly swatting his chest.

“As if you’ve started caring about that now.” Feyre fiddled with his hair, trying to form it back into something presentable as he tucked himself back into his jeans and made himself presentable once more – though not without a visible bite mark on him to match her own.

“What kind of partner would I be if I left my beautiful girl all empty and needy? Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good, you know.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, stroking her hair gently before stepping away to grab his phone. “Go do what you need to feel ready – I’ll call the Uber.”

She could feel her cheeks warm a little, but she was grateful for the extra time – she knew that the minute the two of them walked into Rita’s everybody would know why they were late. It wasn’t exactly the first time this had happened. But she at least wanted to look a little less messy – that was something she saved just for Rhys, and that was exactly the way the two of them liked it.

Before long she’d fixed her hair, slipped on her shoes and her thick black cardigan and walked with Rhys into the crisp night air.

It was already a little past eight-thirty when the two of them arrived, their circle of friends spotting them the minute they rolled through the door. Cassian had his brows arched dramatically sitting at the end of the booth, staring at Rhys as he tapped at an imaginary watch on his wrist. Azriel simply shook his head thoroughly with a smirk, while Mor looked far too satisfied for her own good at the whole affair. Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie couldn’t care less as they were thoroughly engrossed in trying to rope Amren into their book club. The attempt didn’t seem to be working.

“Wooow guys, over half an hour late? Shame on you two for making all of us wait! You’re lucky we haven’t ordered food yet.” Cassian’s tone was exaggerated and playful, Feyre simply grinning at his antics as she and Rhys slid in next to him the booth they had all piled into.

“They say patience is a virtue, Cass. You could learn a thing or two! We’re just trying to impart good values.” Feyre retorted, trying and failing miserably to keep a serious look on her face at him.

His façade broke after that, Cassian slinging an arm over Feyre’s shoulder to pull her into a tight hug with a wide smile and a laugh.

“So, what kept you two sooo busy, hmm? Important business I imagine?” Mor drawled, finger twirling around the rim of her cocktail with a ruby red grin on her face. She knew full well what kept them waiting, but everybody knew she loved getting a rise out of her friends.

Rhys didn’t hesitate, more than eager to rib back. “Well, if you must know, I was busy fuc-“

A crumpled-up ball of napkins hit Rhys square in the face as Nesta levelled a glare at him across the table, iciness in her eyes. “I’m glad my baby sister is happy, but I swear to fucking god, I do not want to hear about what you two get up to behind closed doors.”

Rhys responded with a jokingly smug ‘suit yourself,’ before he turned his attentions back to Feyre and the others at the table, everybody ordering enough food and drinks to feed what felt like an army – most of it almost certainly being consumed by Azriel and Cassian. Before long, they’d all worked up a pleasant enough buzz and Mor had dragged Emerie onto the dancefloor despite her many protests. This, of course, led to a chain reaction – Emerie begged for Gwyn to help, which led to Gwyn recruiting Nesta, which meant Feyre got dragged up too because no way was she going to be caught dead on a club dancefloor without as many people she could rope in as possible.

Normally Rhys and Cassian would opt to join them, Azriel having always preferred watching from the sidelines and wading into things at his own pace and Amren never forced into anything she didn’t explicitly want to do, but tonight they were suspiciously glued to the table in hearty but hushed discussion that Feyre could barely make out over the music. She didn’t pay it too much mind – it was likely about Cassian and Nesta’s wedding since it was just in a few months’ time, or how they were going to rope their respective partners into some harebrained idea that they’d cooked up together. Ultimately, whatever it was, she knew it wasn’t something to worry about and just focused on having a good time feeling the music in her bones and the alcohol in her body.

The time flew by as the clock ticked a bit past ten-thirty, Feyre sat squarely in Rhys’ lap and felt the exertion of the day catching up with her. As much as Rhys tried to look like he wasn’t feeling the tiredness seep into his bones, she could see it in the sag of his shoulders and the slight droop of his eyelids – it was time to call it a night. Before long they’d said their goodbyes, kisses on cheeks and all too-tight hugs from everybody who’d come.

“Can’t believe you’re not staying out ‘til the New Year rolls in. I think you might be getting old, sport.” Amren punched Rhys in the arm with a laugh, having always been a party animal when she felt like it – she was usually going one-for-one right by Rhys’ side through each and every drink.

“Am, you’re literally the oldest one here, are you sure your bones aren’t turning into dust?”

With a hearty laugh and an eye roll so fierce they could practically hear it, Rhys and Feyre headed home. As much as she loved the company of everybody, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t excited to jump into her pyjamas and get comfy for the night. She stepped out of the Uber and back into their apartment building with a long yawn.

“Ready to wind down for the night, love?” Rhys stood behind her, arms wrapped around her waist to hold her close against him on the elevator ride up.

“Mmhm. Sometimes I forget how tired I am until it hits me all at once, y’know?” Her head rested gently against his neck, his chin resting in her hair. She always loved when he held her close like this – no matter where they were, it felt like safety. Like home.

The elevator dinged softly as it got to their floor, Rhys being ever the gentleman and insisting on unlocking the door and ushering her through into their apartment before him. Feyre did a little curtsey with her tennis skirt, possibly hiking the hem a little higher than she needed to. But that was neither here nor there.

“Why thank you, Mr. Sterling! And they say chivalry is dead.”

He chuckled lowly with a small bow at the waist toward her. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss St- I mean, Miss Archeron.” A flush crawled up his neck and onto his cheeks, only matched by the way her own face was almost equally as pink in turn. It wasn’t the first time he’d almost called her ‘Miss Sterling’, but it made her tummy do flips and tie into knots more and more every time. It had a certain ring to it that she more than appreciated.   

Ever the one to commit to the bit, Rhys delicately took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles as he met her gaze. Instead of letting her hand drop however, he used it to pull her in close and kiss her softly. “Go hop in the shower, darling. I’ll get a movie and some snacks set up for us, perhaps?”

A dreamy little sigh escaped her as she looked up at him, face as soft and kind as it had always been to her.

Her Rhys.

“You’re too sweet to me, you know.”

“Not sweet enough, if you ask me. Now get.” He gave Feyre’s backside a light swat to send her on her way, making her burst into a fit of giggles as she set out toward the bathroom.

She made sure to pick out her comfiest set of pyjamas and the fluffiest socks she owned, letting the water help ease the aches and weariness across her body. Especially her hips, but she didn’t really have any wiggle room to complain about that one. Feyre put her hair into a simple braid over her shoulder, softly padding out into the living room again as she wrapped a hair tie around the end of it, but she almost forgot what she was doing when she saw what had been set up in her absence.

It felt just like when they were kids.

Their couch, one of those fold-out futons for when there were one too many guests, had been pulled out and stacked with pillows and blankets galore, including the ones from their own bed. It almost looked like an impenetrable nest from where she was standing. The room was lit by only the glow of the widescreen TV and a few warm lamps throughout, with Howl’s Moving Castle already on the screen and paused for the two of them to begin at their leisure. In the middle of it all was Rhys, in his own pyjamas instead of just an old t-shirt for once, with two bowls nestled in his lap and both of their Steam Decks right next to him.

Exactly like when they were kids, but for who they were now.

The thought made Feyre’s heart beat in double-time – she’d never quite known what she did to deserve someone like Rhys, but she wasn’t going to start questioning it now. She climbed into the bed of blankets, making herself comfy as she struggled to wipe the incredulous look off her face. “What’s the occasion?”

“Just because we’re having a quieter New Year’s doesn’t mean we can’t still have a luxurious one. Besides, we’ve both been so tired lately – I figured we deserved a bit of a treat.” He held out a bowl to her, spoon sticking out of a thick bed of choc-mint ice cream. As she took it he scooted a bit closer, sides pressed together as he clicked ‘play’ on the movie and began to eat his own bowl of ice cream – boysenberry.

Some things truly never changed.

Feyre tried to press a firm kiss to his cheek, but he was quicker and turned his head to catch her lips with his own briefly. She simply smiled against his mouth before turning her attention to her own bowl, and not long after they’d both finished, to finding the most comfortable position for them both to play their games together. Eventually they settled on sitting up right next to one another, Feyre’s legs draped over the top of Rhys’ as they snuggled up under god-knows how many blankets.

As the TV was busy with Sophie Hatter’s journey up the palace steps to see the King’s witch, Rhys and Feyre were busy trying to water all their crops and save up for a better barn for their farm in Stardew Valley. Feyre had insisted that all their farm animals be named after foods, while Rhys had been much more hung up on making sure their crops were optimised for the maximum profit during the season. Maybe it was because he was a detail-oriented guy, maybe it was because Feyre kept spending all of their gold on decorating the farmhouse – who was to say? Either way, it was one of their favourite games to play together and tonight was no different. But they were in the middle of the Autumn season on a stormy day, when Feyre could feel Rhys’ gaze flicking between her and the game.

“Honey, you keep looking up at me and running into walls – everything okay over there?” She paused her game, setting her Steam Deck aside before doing the same with Rhys’.

“Yeah, I’m alright, I’m just – I got reminded of something, actually.”

“That’s awfully cryptic of you, haha.” She lifted a hand to brush his hair from his face, a few stray locks having fallen into his eyes, before resting her hand on his cheek. He leaned into her touch, eyes closing for a moment with a contented hum.

“Well, it’s something that I wanted to ask you before the new year and I have…” He grabbed his phone briefly, glancing at the time on the lockscreen. “…About eight-ish minutes left.”

“You sound pretty serious.”

“It is, heh, but probably not how you’re thinking. Close your eyes for a second.”

She did exactly as he asked, hands over her eyes, though Feyre was more than a bit puzzled. She knew by the furrow of her brow and the nervous laugh Rhys gave that she wasn’t on the same page as him quite yet and he knew it. The rustling of blankets and the shifting of Rhys beside her only added to the mystery.

“Okay, you can open them now.”

Feyre pulled her hands away from her face, a little confused as to what was different – she was looking straight out at the TV, unable to spot anything out of the ordinary, but she could feel Rhys’ stare locked onto her. Then he gently placed his hand on her leg over the thick down blanket, bringing her gaze down with it.

Right down to a pitch black, little velvet box.

Her hands shook a little bit as she reached out for it, looking between the box and Rhys over and over. Was this a fever dream? Was she imagining all of this? This felt far too good to be true.

But the feel of the smooth velvet in her fingertips assured her it was, as did the glittering ring it held inside. A deep purple amethyst, so deep it looked nearly black, sat in the middle of a delicately adorned silver band. It was shaped like a four-pointed star, with two smaller circular amethysts nestled on each side. A few other gems lay between and around them – knowing Rhys, they probably wouldn’t be anything less than diamonds – twinkling between them like the stars in the night sky.

It suited her perfectly. Suited Rhys’ tastes, as well. As soon as she saw it, she knew he’d probably been hiding it for what would have felt like forever to him. Knew that it was almost certainly what they were talking about at the bar.

“Is this for real?” Her eyes were wide as she looked up at Rhys, a few tears escaping against her will. He simply wiped them away with his thumb before tucking his fingers under her chin, making sure she couldn’t look away from him.

“Feyre, I can’t tell you for just how long I’ve wanted to call you my wife.”

“Well, at least the past few months since you keep almost calling me Miss Sterling.” The two of them laughed together for a moment, Rhys nodding slightly at her.

“You’ve got me there. But I mean it with every beat of my heart when I ask you…”

Rhys took the ring from the box with the hand that had been under her chin, the other coming to hold her left hand with a squeeze.

“Feyre Archeron, will you marry m-“

She kissed him with so much intensity, cutting off the end of the question, that she wasn’t sure she could ever quite express just how much she loved him – both in this moment and every other.

“Rhysand Sterling, I will marry the shit out of you.” She said against his lips, matching smiles spread across their faces.

Feyre pulled away for a second, letting Rhys slide the ring onto her finger before she climbed her way into his lap and kissed him again. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close as he kissed her right back with just as much fervour as she gave him.

It wasn’t lost on Feyre just how lucky she was, and it certainly wasn’t lost on the rest of the apartment complex either with how loud they were that night.

No matter what life had thrown at them or would present them with in the future, they both knew a universal cosmic truth – one they’d known for as long as they could remember. Every time, every world, every situation, it was going to be Rhys and Feyre together against the world.

Always.

the end.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

sometimes ya just gotta scribble your favorite character giving you words of encouragement. even if that favorite is a guy from your own brain

[koifsssh]

Danny!

i will re-introduce him! and in depth this time!

Danny Danger is a sort of "antagonist" in the greaser au! A rival to Wally specifically! (it's all in good fun, i assure you!)

(Danger is not his actual last name, but you didn't hear that from me!)

first things first! Danny was made specifically for this au! so I have no idea how he would be outside of it! So everything i will say is in this context!

(long rambles below!)

Danny runs his own gang of sorts, causing trouble wherever he goes, he's a pain really, and he's one to break rules without a second thought (assuming he knows of the rules, he doesn't care very much!)

Danny is very much the "bad boy" archetype, and he leans heavily into it. So much so he comes off across as Silly! He's not above physical confrontations, and not above playing dirty!

Overall, he's bad news!

there are a few things about him that i find amusing,

he can't fly! but those wings are real! (In his family his wings are actually considered "small", not big enough to actually have him fly... it's a detail he very much loathes!)

He acts nonchalant, and tries to be cool, but secretly he's a ball of anxiety. (again, you didn't hear it from me!)

(he's a fan of pinchos, because he likes "sword fighting" with people after eating) (no major injuries were caused, don't worry!)

unfortunately, he's flirtatious, but in a subconscious way. He'll compliment you, and charm you with fluffy words, but don't trust him! he's just trying to get what he wants... (your heart! don't let him have it!)

(additionally, he's not very good at taking care of it...) (Love is a sort of game to him, he likes playing it, and he doesn't understand how it truly works, so if someone comes along with a sincere word he tends to be thrown off, and he doesn't know what to do.)

(it makes him go backwards, and he gets awkward, because he's just! bwah! he's frustrating!)

(Rainy is often subjected to Danny's antics, and quite frankly it always falls flat- mostly due to his confusion)

he's self centered, and he does take a great deal of care to try and keep his physical appearance in check (his hair is very shiny and soft... he'll tell you to wash your hands before you can touch it!) (along with his wings!)

He loves attention, and does have the tendency to get jealous when he's not the center of it! He wouldn't go out of his way to get it... at least, most of the time! bwah!

(a little gag for a certain someone...)

[rubenesque-as-fuck]

Scrolling through house listing websites and daydreaming vividly about not having a shitty landlord any more

[lorephobic]

idk how to even like. put this pain into words and i would normally vent about this shit on twitter, but the person its about follows me on there so like. anybody have skills for coping with the crushing realization that the person u love most in this world and have built ur life around sees ur current situation together as a temporary hurdle that's preventing them from their truest and happiest self which. is separate from u entirely? anyone know how to deal with this?