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#look i know there are other takes but i love when he gets close ups cuz his lips are soooooo pretty
lipringlrh · 1 day
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HE DOESN’T WANT ME WHEN HE’S SOBER PART 2 (LANDO ENDING)
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read: part one | logan ending
summary: lando’s your best friend but seems to like you when he’s drunk. but then again, he seems to like everyone when he’s drunk.
pairing: lando norris x gn!reader
wc: 1.8k
Lando wouldn’t admit it to anyone but that night was the worst sleep he’d ever had. He left as soon as he found out you’d left with Lily and Alex, and made his way to your house just to find out you weren’t there. He messaged Alex to get no response and contemplated waiting outside your door until you came back, whether it be days or months, he’d wait for you. But, after almost falling asleep numerous times and getting laughed at by a group of teenagers, he made his way back to his apartment, knowing you’d be looked after.
He was awake almost all night, messaging and calling you and regretting everything in its entirety. He didn’t fully know if you had even seen him kiss the person that resembled you, he only felt it deep down, but even if you hadn’t, he shouldn’t have done it, and he could never apologise enough. He thought of how to explain his thoughts but nothing would suffice; nothing would ever be able to explain how he felt.
At some point in the early hours, he finally drifted off, but awoke not much later to an aggressive banging on his door and a voice screaming at him to hurry up. He wished the voice was you but it wasn’t and he hated it. He rushed to his door, barely having time to pull on some grey joggers before opening it to an angry Alex, very close to breaking the door down.
“Are you stupid?” Alex questioned, fuming, pushing his way into Lando’s house, “I know that you’re in love with her so what are you doing?”
Lando looked like a deer in headlights. He couldn’t explain his actions, he didn’t even want to think about them. All he remembered feeling was grief at watching you walk away, so when he found someone that looked eerily similar, he took the chance to kiss them and create the image in his mind of kissing you. It didn’t last long. He realised too quickly that they didn’t smell like you and the way they kissed wasn’t the same. He hated it, he didn’t want to kiss anyone but you.
“I know, I didn’t mean to-”
“What, you just tripped into her mouth then?” Alex questioned, pushing a finger against Lando’s chest.
“No- no. I don’t know why I did, I really love them I promise. We almost kissed but then they walked away, I was hurt, I didn’t think they wanted me,” Lando almost cried, his voice cracking.
“You do this every time you go out. You kiss her every time you go out and she follows, you don’t get to pull that card. You might be upset but I promise you’re not even feeling half of it,” Alex spat, not caring if he hurt Lando because he hurt you much more.
“Help me apologise. I need to apologise, please Alex, please help,” Lando begged, wanting you to more than anything, “Please Alex, I’ll do anything.”
Alex sighed. At that moment, he hated Lando for what he did, but he’d been wishing for you both to get together since he first saw you both together, making heart eyes at each other. He contemplated in his head whether to help or not. He always envisioned you together but always wanted what's best for you and right now he couldn’t tell if that was Lando or not. But looking at the state of him, red, wet eyes, begging for his help, he wanted to believe Lando regretted everything and would do anything to prove he loved you.
“Okay, but I’m not letting you be forgiven easily, I want you to prove it,” Alex sighed, running his hands over his face. A feeling of simultaneous relief and guilt eating him alive.
Lando promised Alex over and over again, and in between each syllable, promising himself also that he would give you the world in apologies, and whatever happened he deserved it, but even if there was the slimmest chance you could forgive him, Lando would take it and cherish it.
Alex messaged you and you told him it was fine to bring Lando over, as long as he didn’t expect much, and so they turned up less than five minutes later. Alex left you both alone in the kitchen to sit with Lily in the living room after repeating countless times he was a shout away.
You almost broke down just seeing him but managed to keep it in. You didn’t want him to explain, you didn’t care to hear it at the moment, but as soon as Alex left he began spilling out apologies and trying to explain himself, which you quickly shut up.
“I want some space,” you sighed. You wanted Lando close but you wanted everything you felt for him gone first. You couldn’t believe he ever felt the same, not after that.
“Of course, I understand,” his voice broke as he stepped back, trying to show you he would do anything you said.
“Not like that, Lando. I mean it, I don’t think I can see you for a while.”
“Oh-” he said, “When can I see you again?”
“I’m not sure, I’m sorry-”
“Don’t be, this is my fault,” he sighed, clearly upset and looking at the ground, “I’ll go, I’ll see you soon.”
After he left, you broke down crying, debating your decision on if you handled it right. You already missed him, and still loved him, but you also didn’t want to see him. Alex explained the whole morning, and his perspective, giving you hope you could fix it with Lando, especially after Alex’s approval, which you trusted more than anything.
The next few times you saw him were at hangouts with your shared friends. You knew he’d be there as none of your friends would invite him unless you were completely sure you didn’t mind him there. He stayed away, but didn’t make it awkward to the people around you, and always gave you a shy smile when you caught his eye.
He didn’t try to text or call again, despite wanting to more than anything, and instead waited for you to make the first move whenever you were ready. You had missed him more than anything, in both an “I love him” and “he’s my best friend” way, and it was killing you from being away from him, especially after how well he listened to your instructions.
You were at a mutual friend's get-together, a small barbecue in a back garden when you decided it was time. You had been debating texting him but after seeing him, you decided you couldn’t wait.
He was standing alone in a corner beside a flower patch and some grass, drink in hand, and surveying everyone that was there when you walked over. He didn’t know how to greet you and so awkwardly moved his hands between going for a hug or a handshake. You laughed and hugged him, both of you holding on tightly, unhappy to let go.
“I’ve missed you,” you whispered gently, looking down and playing with your fingers, slightly nervous to admit it to him after all this time.
“I’ve missed you too,” he grins, adding on, “So much,” with a quiet whisper.
“How’ve you been?” you asked, trying to make small talk before delving right in.
“Okay, I’ve not really done much. Races have been okay.”
“I saw,” you smiled, “You’ve done really well.”
“You watched?” he questioned, a little surprised. You met his eyes and nodded, explaining how you could never miss one.
“Do you want to talk inside?” you asked, heart pounding as you said it. He nodded immediately, without hesitation, and followed you in through the double glass doors into the kitchen, but only after picking out a daisy from the grass next to him and offering it out to you, causing both of you to grin.
He closed the doors behind you both, blocking out as much other noise as possible, ready for you to begin. “I want to know how you feel about this and about me,” you started, voice shaky.
“I’m sorry, I’m still so sorry. I love you and I want what’s best for you and I can’t even find an excuse, I was being stupid and thinking how you’d never want me. It was all nothing, you’re the only person that’s ever meant anything, I’m so sorry. I will do anything to fix this- anything.”
“Lan,” you let out a breath, “You still want me?”
“More than anything,” he grinned and you stepped forward to reach him, locking your arms around his neck.
Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair as you pull his face down until his lips are almost touching yours. He was smiling so much you thought it might be impossible to kiss him but you pulled him into you anyway, finally kissing him again.
“Stop smiling,” you laughed, pulling away to say it before immediately kissing him again.
“What? Can I not be happy? I’m getting my girl back,” he pulled away, grinning harder, then trying to drag you back in, which was almost successful until you pulled away at the last second.
“I can barely kiss you like this and I’d really, really like to,” you giggled, tugging him back again to enjoy another impatient kiss.
Your hands were running all over his head, completely ruining his hair, but he didn’t care. His hands were wrapped around your waist, holding you impossibly close. When you finally parted he still kept you close, resting his forehead on yours.
“Are you sure you want this?” he questioned, his breath still heavy.
You kissed his cheek and looked straight into his eyes, “More than anything, I promise,” you paused for a moment, “But you’re going to have to grovel to repay all the lost time we’ve had.”
“I’m going to prove to you that I’m all in, that I want this more than I could possibly explain,” Lando promised, meaning every word. He was already planning out exactly what he wanted to do - he knew he had to work to become your official boyfriend, but he would do everything possible for you.
You just stared at him, showcasing the biggest smile you’ve ever had, eyes full of love, knowing you weren’t ever going to let each other go or even risk it again.
“God I love you,” he grinned, ignoring the fact he still hadn’t caught his breath and pulling you into another, more intimate, kiss.
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verstappen-cult · 3 days
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Hiiii I love your lestappen stories, they are so good!!🥰🥰 I was wondering if you could write one where the reader is studying really hard for her final exams (she's so so stressed about it) and her boys help her relax a little 💗💗
gwen’s message. this is so me because i’m studying reaaaally hard for some exams i have to take next week and i just want lestappen to give me kisses and massages. 🥺
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“Baby, you should take a break.” Charles says as he leans against the door.
You take your glasses off and rub the sleep from your eyes. “I can’t. I have all these papers to read and a lot of classes to catch up on.”
Max, who has been keeping you company since you started studying early this morning, scrolling through his phone, looks at you. “You can take at least fifteen minutes, it’ll do you good.”
“Max is right,” Charles walks into the room, stopping right behind you. “You need breaks between all the studying, or you’re going to fry your brains.”
You know they are right, but you also know that you need a good grade to pass the exams or you’re going to have to take them again; and you don’t want that.
“Just fifteen minutes.” You sigh, resting the back of your head against Charles’ chest.
His hands immediately find your shoulders and starts massaging all the stress off your body.
“Now, come here,” Max opens his arms, while getting comfortable against the pillows, and you don’t even need to think about it to climb on the bed. “Just lie down and relax.” He says as he makes way for you to lie down between his legs, your back to his chest.
“I’m gonna grab some oil and I’ll be right back.”
You barely have time to process your boyfriend’s words because your brain shuts off the moment you feel Max’s lips on yours. It’s barely a kiss, definitely not enough, and it leaves you wanting for more.
Max laughs when you chase after his lips and he just places a little peck on your cheek, making you groan.
Charles sits at the foot of the bed and gets rid of your socks. “You should try to sleep.” He whispers as his oily hands start giving you the best foot massage of your life.
You close your eyes, feeling one pair of hands on your temples and the other rubbing your feet and legs. It’s relaxing and definitely what you needed.
You wouldn’t have taken a break if it weren’t for your favorite boys. Always making sure you’re taking care of yourself. And taking care of you.
“Could — ” You swallow, feeling all the blood in your body rushing to your cheeks because you’re about to admit something you swore you wouldn’t in front of them. “Could you talk about racing, please? I know it’s weird but it relaxes me.”
They’re silent for far too long. But then, just as you’re about to apologise and run away, you hear them giggling; your favorite sound in the world.
“It’s not weird at all, schatje.” Max kisses the top of your head and you feel a little silly for ever thinking that they would make fun of you.
You can hear Charles’ smirk when he speaks, “You want us to talk about something specific?”
You think for a second.
“About Austria 2022.”
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thepowerofswayze · 2 days
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college art donaldson !!!
maybe something about him , tashi , reader , and patrick all being in a friend group at while in college. maybe patrick comes down to visit tashi and suggest an idea where they drive down to the beach and rent a beach house for a few days or something. while they’re there tashi and patrick start arguing leaving reader and patrick alone.
change whatever if u need to but js anything with college art , please !!
so i took a million years and definitely wrote too much but. finally. FINALLY. thank you sm for this request, i hope you like it :)
beach trip
pairing: art donaldson (challengers, 2024) / afab reader [gender not specified]
word count: 3.9K
warnings & info: 18+, afab reader, NOT beta read lol (but nothing of mine ever is), college era art my love, friends to lovers, art and reader swim in their underwear lol, reader wears a bra, reader likes swimming, first time together, oral sex (reader receiving), p in v sex, safe sex (condom moment), art is a munch
summary: A group beach weekend sounded great- until Tashi and Patrick spent the whole drive bickering and the whole first night moments from pouncing on each other. Looks like you and Art will have to keep each other company.
“Don’t let him scare you, he’s shit at board games. And card games. Just like he’s shit at tennis.”
You just blinked, eyes darting to Patrick to see how he’d react to Tashi’s dig. The nervous laugh to your left let you know Art was just as unsure as you were.
When Patrick had come to visit Tashi and suggested all four of you take a trip to a rental beach house, you knew being in close quarters with the both of them for a full 3 days would be interesting, at the least. You weren’t about to pass up on the beach trip, though- not when Patrick was covering the rent.
What you didn’t know was that they would be argue-flirting the entire way there, and every moment since you’d all arrived. It made sense, though- between Tashi rooming with you, Patrick not having a room since he wasn’t a Stanford student, and his long stretches between visits, they hadn’t had any time alone in a little over 2 months.
Their flirting was always a little angry- little jabs and remarks that would have made you wince if you were the target. For them, it just made the other’s eyes linger on their partner's lips for a little too long.
Patrick licked his lips before he responded. “Do you ever talk about anything else?” He asked, a lazy half smile on his face.
Tashi’s comeback was almost immediate: “Not like you give me anything else to talk about.” She leaned back on her hands, eyes raking over him from top to bottom.
Patrick seemed to enjoy the scrutiny. He leaned forward, that lazy smirk changing into a playful grin. “Yeah? I got something I could give you right now.”
Alright. That was your sign to go.
When you turned to Art, brows raised, he was already looking at you. You glanced from him to the door and back. You knew Patrick and Tashi would be on each other any second now, whether you two left or not, and you really didn’t want to get caught up in it.
Art nodded.
Your “I think I’m gonna call it a night” and Art’s “Uh, me too” fell on deaf ears as you two scrambled out of the room. Art had barely shut the door behind himself before you could hear those two pounce on each other, the board game you’d been playing definitely scattered and forgotten.
It made you snicker, like a middle school boy. One glance at Art and he was laughing too, a hand over his mouth, his red stanford baseball cap the only thing keeping his hair from falling into his eyes as he shook.
More noises from the room- a crash, then the dull thud of something falling to the carpet. You winced through your grin, then made your way down the hall toward the front porch, beckoning Art to follow you.
Outside, you placed your arms on the railing, leaning entirely on the rickety wood. In the cool night air, you couldn’t hear your roommate and her boyfriend getting it on like animals. You didn’t blame them, even if the angry flirting style wasn’t for you. If you had a partner who was always away, you knew you’d jump on them the moment they were in sight.
You glanced over as Art joined you, mimicking your posture. You knew there was a point, early freshman year, when he’d liked Tashi. It was hard to ignore how his smile dropped when he’d watch Patrick and Tashi reunite, thinking no one was watching. And you always recognized how lost he looked when he stared at her while the three of you had lunch- after all, you looked at him the same way.
Recently, though- over the year and a half you’d known the three of them- he was easing up on it. His smiles lingered long after he thought everyone had looked away. He didn’t even notice when Tashi walked into the cafeteria until you waved her down to sit with you guys. And now, next to you, he was grinning at their antics instead of grimacing.
He seemed to be over it. If only you could be so lucky.
“Like… animals,” Art said, glancing over at you. You were caught so off guard, you didn’t even remember to pretend you hadn’t been staring.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” You laughed, grinning. “They definitely needed that. Did you hear them in the back of the car on the way down here?”
Art groaned. “Oh my god, I thought they were gonna go at it right there.” He brought his voice an octave higher, lifting his chin in an imitation of Tashi that could’ve also passed for royalty- what was the difference, really. “‘You eat like shit. No wonder you play the same.’”
Immediately, you dropped your voice, giving him a coy side smirk and raising one eyebrow. “‘I’ll tell you what I’d rather eat.’”
The two of you doubled over, howling in laughter. Then, another crash from inside. Escaping them was going to be harder than you thought.
“You wanna head down to the water?” Art asked.
“Sure,” you said, smiling wide when he gave you a mock bow and let you lead the way.
The roar of the waves was comforting as you got closer, sand covering your bare feet- neither of you remembered to grab shoes- and the salty air filling your nose. The walk was silent, and the few minutes you spent standing at the edge of the ocean was, too. You watched it reach out toward you, then retreat back into the glittering blue-black. At some point, you closed your eyes.
“I’ve never swam in the ocean.”
Your eyes snapped open. Art was still looking out at the water, head tilted like an inquisitive puppy. The wind fought to ruffle the few curls that peaked out from under his hat. “Never?” You asked.
Art shook his head. “We didn’t really go when I was a kid, and I was way too scared, anyway. Then when I went with friends it was more about beach volleyball and drinking than actually swimming.” He looked over at you, then laughed. “I’m guessing from your face right now, you must love swimming in the ocean.”
You closed your mouth, which you hadn’t realized had fallen open, and shook your head. “Do I?” His incredulous head shake made you smile. A beat of silence. “Are you still scared of it?”
He took a moment to answer, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know. Not too scared to try, I guess.”
“Alright, wanna try?”
Art just tilted his head at you. You gestured toward your clothes, then the ocean, then to him. You could see it in his face when he caught on. “I’m not going in alone.”
You only took a second to think about it before you were tugging your t-shirt off and tossing it on the sand between you two. Your shorts came soon after. You already had one foot in the water when Art called your name, laughing so hard he could barely say it.
You shrieked at the cold as it hit your stomach, then sunk down to your shoulders, getting the shock over with all together. When you turned back toward the sand, you saw a shirtless Art running toward you in his boxers, moonlight tracing his chest and shoulders. He still had that fucking hat on. It made you grin.
He didn’t shriek when he hit the water, but he did take a lengthy inhale. You watched as he held his nose, screwed his eyes shut, and dunked himself up to his head. His hat bobbed just above the surface, and you picked it up and put it on yourself.
When he came back up, he shook his head, wet hair sending droplets flying. Art grinned, wiping water from his eyes and pointing at the hat on your head. “Thief.”
You rolled your eyes. “Next time I’ll just let it float away then, idiot.” It only made him grin harder. You waved your arms back and forth through the water, the cold easier to ignore when you moved. “So?”
“Hm?”
“Still scared?”
Again, he thought about it for a moment. “No, actually. I think I’m okay.”
You hummed, bringing a finger to your chin in mock deep thought. “What if there are sharks? I think you should be scared of sharks, probably.”
“Nah.” Art shook his head. “The sharks should be afraid of me. I’m the scariest thing here.” He lifted his arms out of the water to flex comically, chin lifted in comical pride.
You laughed, splashing him, making him yelp. “Okay, sure, macho man.”
“What, don’t believe me?”
You shrugged, a smirk tugging at your lips.
Before you knew it, Art had his arms around your middle, lifting you and dunking you in the water back first, like a baptism. You had all of two seconds to scream, then shut your eyes and mouth. He let you up immediately, wading away from you and toward the sand as you resurfaced, spluttering.
“Donaldson!” you shouted, though your serious tone was undermined by your beaming face. Somehow, his hat stayed on your head.
He’d gotten a little ways away from you, but you still had the advantage- you swam in the ocean every chance you got.
You surged toward him, biting back a cackle as his eyes widened in fear. You grabbed his shoulders, pushing off him and shoving him under the waves. He stayed under for a second- then two, then three, until you vaguely started to worry- before jumping out in front of you, wrapping his arms around your torso and making you all but scream.
“Holy shit!” You were giggling, wrapping your arms around Art’s neck for stability. “Isn’t it fun in here? You’ve been missing out.”
He didn’t respond for a moment, so you met his eyes. You hadn’t realized how close you were. It seemed like the realization was hitting him, too, as his eyes scanned your face. He glanced from your eyes to your lips and back. Despite the breeze and the water, your skin was suddenly very warm. You could feel every point where his body touched yours.
You knew what was happening- you could sense it. At least, you were pretty sure you knew. It’s the only thing that could come next, right?
… Maybe you were reading it wrong.
You hesitated. Then, suddenly, “God, it’s cold,” and you kicked off of him to dunk yourself in the water one more time, resurfacing a couple steps away and wading onto shore. When you looked back at him, you could almost convince yourself that the same disappointment that filled your chest was written on his face. “Come on!” You called cheerfully, and Art started after you, replacing the look with an amused smile.
You both put your clothes back on, if only to shield yourselves from some of the breeze on the short walk back. You were both silent as you neared the house, as you walked down the halls. Neither of you even remarked on how Tashi and Patrick had finally gone silent. When Art got to his door and stopped, though, you turned to him.
“Goodnight,” you said, willing your voice to sound less defeated than you felt. Your hands fiddled with the hem of your soaked shirt.
Art nodded. That look was back in his eyes, the one that looked just how you felt. “Goodnight.”
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
The shower was much needed and very welcomed. You took your time getting sand off of you as best as you could, working the water into your hair (you’d wash it tomorrow- you weren’t going through that whole workout this late). When you stepped out of the hot water, toweling yourself off, your eyes caught on the red Stanford baseball cap on the sink counter. You bit your lip and walked past it, into the connecting bedroom you were calling yours for the weekend.
Pajamas on, you sat at the edge of your bed, scrunching your hair mostly dry with a spare t-shirt you’d packed just for that. The crash of the ocean enveloped you through the open window.
You thought about it. About his arms around you and his chest against yours. About the way he’d looked at you and you’d known exactly what he was going to do. About his face when you’d second guessed yourself and ran away.
Fuck. Why did you run away?
When you got up and walked to the door, you grabbed the hat from the bathroom counter. You told yourself you were only going to return it, but something in the back of your mind laughed at your excuse.
You had just gotten to the door, lifting a hesitant hand to knock, when it swung open and you were met with a flushed, freshly showered, boxers-and-t-shirt clad Art Donaldson.
The two of you stared for a moment. You didn’t see the disappointment in his eyes anymore, but there was still something there. You were sure it was on your face, too.
You cleared your throat. “Hat,” you said, intelligently.
Art glanced at the hat in your slightly raised hand, then nodded. His eyes came back up to meet yours, then darted down to your lips. He opened his mouth and hesitated. “Do you wanna-”
You pushed forward, pressing your lips to his for just a moment, before pulling back, searching his eyes. He didn’t give you too long to think about what you’d just done, his hands flying to your waist, pulling you back toward him and kissing you again. Hard.
Art yanked you into the room, and you dropped the hat, the door shutting as he pushed you up against it. His hands found their way under your sleep shirt, settling on your bare waist, and one of yours cupped his cheek while the other thread through his hair. You tugged gently at the curls, and he sighed your name into your mouth.
You pulled back just long enough to murmur, “Bed?”
He obliged, grabbing your hand to lead you to the corner bed. His rental room was similar to yours, save for a warm, dull bedside lamp on, barely illuminating the room.
You both crawled onto the bed on your knees, leaning forward to pick up where you’d left. Art’s hands played with the hem of your shirt and you helped him lift it off of you. His shirt went next. He cupped your breasts tentatively, thumbs brushing over your nipples, his face watching yours like he wanted to see if he was doing this right. You pulled him back in for another kiss and bit his lip. He groaned.
“Lay back,” he murmured against your mouth.
You did as told, scooting up the bed and falling into his pillows. They smelled mostly of the air freshener the owner of the beach house had doused it with, but the vague hint of Art’s cologne permeated the room.
He kissed you again, holding himself up over you. He placed kisses down your neck, your shoulders, your collarbone. As one of his hands came to rest between your legs, pressing against you between your pants and underwear, he placed his mouth on one of your nipples. He bit at it gently, sucking immediately to make up for the hurt and moving his hand against you. Your breath stuttered and grew heavy, lips parting, as he moved to your other nipple.
Art pressed a kiss to your stomach next, trailing lower, eyes closed. You watched as he murmured against your skin, “You don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this.”
“Yeah?” ‘Sex with me or eating me out specifically?’ you wanted to ask. Instead, you bit your lip and watched him hook his fingers into the waistband of your pants and underwear, pulling them down together and tossing them on the floor. He pressed alternating kisses to each of your thighs, inching closer and closer. You could barely hear your voice when you asked, “Why didn’t you do anything?”
A shiver ran through you, partially from the vulnerability and cool air, partially from the way Art was looking at you- reverent. Devout. “I couldn’t imagine I’d be lucky enough.”
You wanted to say something back- something clever and sweet to let him know just how easily he could have had you- but his mouth was on you in less than a second, and all that you could do was let out an odd cross between a huff and a whine.
His tongue pressed flat against you- eager, almost desperate, like you were an oasis in the desert. His nose bumped your clit as he bobbed his head, switching between long strokes and focusing on sucking your clit. “Shit,” you whispered, your hand threading through his hair. He fell into a rhythm, the consistent vulgar noises of his mouth against you filling the room alongside your gasps and whines.
When his tongue pushed into you, your eyes screwed shut. “Fuck, Art,” you said, barely gripping his hair and faintly hoping that it wasn’t painful for him. He only whined at his name, a desperate noise, and pushed his face impossibly deeper. “I’ll- I’ll come if you keep-” You cut yourself off with a groan.
Art pulled back just enough to say, “I want you to. Please, let me taste it.” Immediately, his mouth was back on you, like he couldn’t keep himself away for long. You would’ve playfully chided him for being so filthy had you not been busy gripping his hair and letting curses fly.
You let your head fall back, hips rolling on their own accord, and he only adapted and let you ride his face and bring yourself to the edge. You came with a loud cry, thighs pressing in on his head, back lifting just slightly off the bed. Art didn’t back off as your high subsided, continuing until you’d come down and were laying there, panting.
You pushed yourself up to a sitting position, then pulled Art back up onto the bed. His eyes were glossy, much like the majority of his face, covered in you and his own spit. You put your hands on his cheeks, ignoring the sticky feeling and pulling him in for a rough kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue.
One of your hands wandered, trailing down his chest and coming to rest at the front of his boxers, palming him. He groaned.
“I wanna fuck you,” you said, pulling away to look him in the eye.
Art huffed a laugh. “You can’t say that to me. I’m not gonna last at all.”
That caught you off guard, and you laughed. “What?”
He shrugged coyly, almost smug as if his cheeks weren’t still flushed and glistening from his time spent between your legs. “I’m, like, halfway there already.”
Just from eating you out and a little petting? That was… surprisingly hot.
You told him as much, relishing in how deeply he flushed and how widely he grinned. You made him lie back on the bed. “Condoms?” You asked.
He nodded toward his bedside, to the backpack leaning against the nightstand. You raised an eyebrow at him before leaning off the bed to grab one. All he offered you was a shy smile.
You kissed his chest, making your way down to his waistband, and he watched, propped up on his elbows, like he was sure if he took his eyes off you you’d disappear. When you pulled down his boxers and tossed them aside, you wasted no time ripping the condom wrapper open and rolling it on.
Getting up on your knees, you hovered over him and lined your hips up with his. You gave him a quick glance. “This okay?”
He nodded, eagerly, and you could’ve broken at the sight. You sank onto him, gasping slightly at the sensation. Art watched your face, open mouthed, eyes never leaving yours. You almost wanted to look away, but the intensity was riveting.
With him now fully in you, you gave yourself a moment to adjust, hands settling on his chest as he gripped your thighs. You gave your hips an experimental push forward.
Art let out a groan that sounded somewhat like “Fuck” and “Ugh” put together. You repeated the motion, your mouth opening softly as you watched his eyes flutter open and shut. It was like he was struggling between giving into the feeling and watching you.
You increased your pace, head falling forward as you lifted your hips with each push. Art’s hands moved to grip your ass, eyes focused on you, little pants and whimpers escaping him as you moved. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured. You would’ve responded in kind, but he bucked his hips moments after and your head fell back with a moan.
With your hands now supporting you from behind, gripping the sheets, you rolled your hips with each lift. Art let out a particularly pathetic whine, and you grinned through your heavy breathing, gazing at him with heavily lidded eyes. “Close?” He nodded, his expression so desperate that you were sure he was right on the edge. You could feel yourself right behind him. “Cum for me then,” you panted.
Art groaned, one hand moving to press sloppy circles against your clit. You forced yourself to keep your eyes open, wanting to see his face as his orgasm hit him. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips parted as he panted and he whimpered. When his orgasm came, his eyes shut and he cried out, gripping you tightly and continuing to rub your clit, hips bucking into you involuntarily. You were only a second behind, “Fuck, Art!” the only thing you could say before your hips stuttered and your second orgasm washed over you.
Slowly, you came to a stop, panting and barely keeping yourself up. Your head was light, and you couldn’t wipe an exhausted smile off your face. When you finally felt like your arms wouldn’t give out, you lifted yourself off of him, collapsing on the bed between him and the wall, catching your breath.
Art removed the condom, tying it off and throwing it in the trash before turning to face you. His breathing was much more regular, but his chest still heaved. “...Fuck,” he said.
And you laughed, one arm over your eyes, the other clutching your stomach. “Yeah?”
He was grinning at you when your arm moved off your eyes, then leaning in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, your collar bone, your cheek. “Yeah,” he murmured. Silence fell over you both as you watched him intertwine your fingers and stare at them. His lip twitched, like he was working up the courage to say something. “I meant it, you know. I wanted this- you- I’ve liked you for… a while.”
You hummed, now suddenly also very interested in your intertwined fingers. “‘Liked,’ past tense? All done now?”
He rolled his eyes. “No, dumb-ass.” You smacked his arm, glancing up to find him looking at you now. “Like. Still. And probably will for a while.”
You felt your face warm. You kissed him. “I like you, too. Still do. Will for a while, etcetera.”
“Thank fucking god,” he said, and you couldn’t help but snort a laugh. When Art kissed you again, you could feel his smile against your lips, and you were sure he could feel yours.
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rafe + breeding kink
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warnings: singledad!rafe, older!rafe (maybe like late twenties-early thirties), nanny!reader, rafe’s son calls you mommy, fluff, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy and having kids, creampie
a/n: breeding kink was so heavily requested omg, i love everyone who left a req for this <3 i definitely went a little overboard lol
“well, that worked like a charm.” rafe smiled down at you and his son who was currently cuddled into your side. “i don’t want to move away from him.” you pouted, running your fingers through the little boy’s hair. you had been doing this weird thing to rafe’s heart everytime he saw you caring for his boy, and he didn’t know what to make of it.
despite having been rafe’s nanny for nearly three years now, you still found yourself getting flustered every time you caught him staring at you. whether it was you folding laundry, or bending over to dust the entertainment center, all those little things were starting to add up into something both of you wouldn’t be able to come back from.
“do you think we could talk?” rafe helped you up from his son’s race car bed, a worried expression overtaking his features. “yeah, of course, is everything alright?” you didn’t miss the way he kept your hand in his, leading both of you downstairs after closing the door to little ray’s room. “yes, i actually wanted to talk about my salary-” rafe was quick to cut in.
“throw me a number and you got it.” he dropped your hand, ushering you to take a seat next to him. you laughed softly, shaking your head. “no, i don’t want more pay; quite the opposite, really.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “you’re not quitting are you?” he heard his heart beating in his ears at your lack of response.
“no, god no!” you placed a hand on his arm, “i’ve been looking for another job because i don’t want to be paid for taking care of ray anymore..” you met his gaze, running your nails against his skin. “why?” rafe couldn’t wrap his head around your words, his eyes darting across your face.
“you know, i’ve been taking care of ray since he was two, and he’s going to be five next week.. i’ve grown so close to him.” you smiled. “caring for him, cooking for him, playing with him, loving him, it isn’t a job for me.” you didn’t realize you were crying until rafe wiped your cheek ever so gently. “you love him?” rafe’s voice was barely above a whisper, his own tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
“i do, rafe. i love him so much.” you sniffled. “he called me mom the other day and i felt terrible ‘cause i bursted into tears on the spot, and he thought he made me sad but i was just overjoyed.” you laughed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i want you to know that i’m not trying to take the place of his mother, i would never do that..”
rafe knew ray called you mom. it wasn’t too long ago that ray said, ‘mommy made my favorite pancakes!’ when rafe asked him about his day and made his heart damn near stop in his chest when he heard the word fall from his son’s lips. “you’re the closest thing he has to a mother. i don’t even know how to thank you for that.” he leaned in, embracing you tightly.
you two stayed like this for a couple moments before you pulled away, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “i called mrs. anderson to set up a playdate with ray and her son, and do you want to know what she said?” you stifled a laugh as rafe relaxed into the couch. “what?” he admired the way you lit up while talking about ray.
“she said that ray was a little more on the wild side and that it would be in her son’s best interest if they didn’t hang out anymore.” you watched as rafe shrugged. “that little nerd was too boring, anyways.” you gasped, slapping his chest playfully. “rafe!” you whispered, both of you covering your mouths to keep from being too loud.
he quieted down, sighing to himself before looking up at the ceiling, you following suit. “i do worry about that sometimes. i feel like ray needs more of a permanent friend, like a sibling..” he trailed off, glancing at you only to see you were looking at him already. “a sibling?” you raised your eyebrows. “how would you go about that?” you cleared your throat, trying to ignore the smidge of jealousy that settled in the pit of your stomach.
“want me to explain to you how babies are made?” rafe scooted closer, his arm draping over your shoulders. “no need, i’m well aware.” you waved him off. “yeah?” he guided you on top of his lap, both of you looking at each other with dark swirling in your eyes. “tell me, y/n, ‘you ever think about having little ones?” his large hands came up to rub against your thighs.
rafe felt as if he was approaching that line he’s been wanting to cross since the first time he interviewed you all those years ago. “yes.” you let out a shaky breath when you felt rafe’s fingertips move under your blouse. “you would make such a good mother, you’d want that wouldn’t you?” you cupped his face as his lips ghosted over your own.
you moaned once he finally kissed you, both of your clothes coming off before you could have enough time to think. “gonna fill you up and make you have my babies, yeah?” he laid you down on the soft cushions, running the head of his cock between your wet folds. “yes, please.” you mewled, eyes shining with lust as he took your chin between his thumb.
“fuck, you’re so beautiful.” he covered your mouth, muffling the yelp that left your lips when he entered you slowly, your silky walls welcoming him inch by inch. his strokes were slow and full of intention, his arms caging you in while you two shared the kind of kisses that made your head spin. “been wanting you like this for so long.” he cursed under his breath.
you whimpered, arms wrapping around his neck as you trailed kisses across his jaw. the intimacy of having his body flush against yours wasn’t like anything you’ve ever experienced, your soft cries driving him on the brink of fucking you senseless. “oh, my god,” you clawed at his skin, making him hiss as he tugged at the roots of your hair to make you look up.
“i can see it already; all three of us going to the beach and rubbing on your round belly, all pretty and pregnant.” rafe picked up his pace, your hips now moving with his to meet his thrusts. “i want that so bad!” you nearly screamed when he started toying with your clit, both of you holding onto one another like your life depended on it.
“jesus, fuck-” his movements came to a halt before he placed your legs on his shoulders, leaning down until your thighs met the cushions underneath you. snaking an arm around your lower back, you gasped when he started lifting you up, fucking you onto his cock so he could reach deeper than before. “r-rafe!” your mouth fell open, eyes blinking slowly.
with one hand still rubbing your clit, and the head of his length continuously hitting your sweet spot, you found yourself approaching the edge of euphoria. rafe can tell by the way you were clenching around him that you were going to cum soon. “hold out a little longer for me, baby. ‘want you to cum when i fill you up.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, hips stuttering once the band in his stomach snapped.
burying his head in the curve of you neck, he moaned against your skin as he stilled, the head of his cock nudging your cervix. you felt the moment he finished, the hot ropes of his cum filling you to the hilt as your thighs started trembling. rafe clamped a hand over your mouth, whispering a ‘let me feel you cum around me.’ before you obliged, your orgasm hitting you in long waves of ecstasy.
you laid helplessly, trying your hardest not to scream at the intense feeling in your tummy, your eyes rolling back as he rubbed a soothing hand on your side. rafe helped you come down from your climax, the aftershocks of your orgasm making your body jolt with every stroke of his fingers against your skin. he stayed nestled inside of you, both of you embracing each other as your breathing slowed, sleep weighing heavy on your eyelids.
“you did so good for me, are you feeling okay?” you blinked up at him, a smile making its way to his lips when he saw the fucked out expression on your face. “mhmm, ‘don’t think i could get up though.” you hissed once he pulled out, watching as he slipped on his pants. “let’s get in the shower, you’re staying here.” he helped you up, putting his large button down over your shoulders.
rafe carried you upstairs, tiptoeing past ray’s room before both of you got in the shower, round two well underway. it wasn’t until you were laying rafe’s bed, adorned in one of his t-shirts that you two heard little ray’s voice outside the door. “daddy? can i come in?” rafe rubbed a reassuring hand on your arm, shouting a ‘yes, son!’ before ray strided inside, running up to you excitedly.
“can i sleep in here, pleaseee,” you embraced him, telling him yes before rafe could get the chance to tell him otherwise. “are you sleeping over?” the little boy peered up at you, wasting no time in settling under the comforter of rafe’s bed. you giggled, flashing rafe a look. “yes, i am.” ray looked over at his father, studying him for a minute.
you watched them have a silent conversation with their eyes, the scene making your heart melt. “goodnight, daddy,” he patted rafe’s chest, “..goodnight, mommy.” he pecked your cheek, the waterworks threatening to spill over at any moment. rafe reached over, taking your hand in his before he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “goodnight.”
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strang3lov3 · 2 days
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You and Joel both know how he got that virus on his computer, and you can’t help but to relentlessly tease him in more ways than one…until Joel’s had enough.
Alternatively, Joel should really stop clicking on links that Tommy emails him. (7.6k)
Tags - neighbor!joel, grumpy!joel, pre/no outbreak, porn watching, joel straight jorkin’ his peanits, teasing, lingerie, handjobs, upside down blowjobs (like what happened in spider man), rough sex, manhandling, oral (f receiving), come eating, fingering, overstim, soft dom!joel, porn watching, reader has a bush but is otherwise not described Fic Help - @joeloverture, @joelsgreys, and @endlessthxxghts for their beautiful brains, and @noxturnalpascal and @beefrobeefcal for editing and patiently explaining dial up internet to me for this fic 🩷👾📀🖥️ Patti, I seriously cannot thank you enough. You made this fic fucking perfect. A/N - sorry for the delay on getting joel out to you in a timely manner, he should be cumming a lot more frequently…maybe. I do have a vacation I’m leaving for in less than a week. Also, thank you for all the well wishes and participation on my anniversary/5k celebration, I love you all so very much 🩷
masterlist
You know what you came here for. Grumpy, technologically inept Joel fucking the daylights out of you below 👇🖥️🦠🛜👾😍🍑👅💦🍆
It's early evening on a Saturday and finally time for Joel to enjoy his day off. He spent the day doing yard work, grocery shopping, and chauffeuring his daughter to and from soccer games. Saturdays are never really very relaxing for him, so when he has a quiet moment, like right now, he takes advantage. 
Joel draws the curtains closed in his kitchen as he stares at his computer setup and contemplates, even though his mind is already made up. It’s a sign - there’s a Victoria’s Secret coupon set that’s been sitting on his kitchen counter since this morning, addressed to you of course. Damn mailman can’t get anything right. 
He sits down on the chair in front of the monitor and powers the machine on, opens the tower’s disc drive and inserts his AOL CD before opening the matching AOL application. He has a post-it taped to the bottom of a drawer next to him that he reads from every time to remember his username and password. Joel grumbles to himself as he unzips his jeans, something about ‘damn thing’s always takin’ too long to load’ as the screen goes from dialing to connecting to connected. Netscape takes even longer to load, but when it finally does Joel visits his favorite website, victoriassecret.com. He works his half-hard cock in one hand, feeling it stiffen in his palm as the screen loads slowly, images of lingerie-clad models coming to life bit by bit. Joel groans and squeezes himself. 
He knows that jerking off to Victoria's Secret advertisements is juvenile at best. He knows other porn exists, he’s got old dirty Playboy magazines from his teenage years and even some bootleg VHS tapes that his brother Tommy copied for him. He’s tried to watch them, but they’re all sort of sterile and awkward, the dialogue fake and the women’s moans exaggerated and over the top, it takes him out of the fantasy. They can also only be played on the television in the living room, which is not ideal for a number of reasons.
 Joel also knows that the women in these advertisements are not real, that they’re airbrushed and photoshopped to the point of looking like Barbie dolls. He knows that they have more curves and body hair than what he’s looking at on his screen, that they have cellulite, stretch marks, and all of the other things he loves on a woman’s body. But Joel is nothing but a man, and a lonely one at that. A hard worker and a dedicated father, he doesn’t have much time for dating. And importantly to Joel, Victoria’s Secret advertisements allow him to do something his dirty magazines and bootleg VHS tapes can’t - use his imagination. 
Oh yes, Joel loves when a little mystery is left for him, to pique his interests. He loves to imagine what the model’s breasts look like, if they’re more round-shaped, or like tear drops. Would they hang heavy, swaying when she moved, or would they point outward, petite and perky? How dark or light are their nipples and what would they look like when hard? He loves to picture their vulvas, to visualize what their folds would look like spread in front of him, to envision how they maintain their pubic hair. He wonders what they look like when they’re wet, lips all swollen. It thrills him, excites him. 
His eyes are squeezed shut and he’s pumping his cock when a loud email notification from [email protected] interrupts him. “Fuckin’ Tommy,” he mutters, clicking on the popup. 
here’s this for your spank bank pervert 
No greeting, no goodbye, nothing capitalized and no punctuation. Just one blue link and nothing else. Joel rolls his eyes but clicks the link anyway, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity.
Just like before, it takes a moment to load but when it finally does, Joel blushes. It’s a porn site where people appear to upload their own porn. It seems expansive, all sorts of categories. Immediately, Joel’s intrigued - he didn’t realize that this kind of stuff was available online. He guesses that he probably should have known that, but rationalizes that he doesn’t use the internet much. His computer is meant for a few things - playing Microsoft Pinball, emailing clients, and browsing Victoria's Secret during times like this. But this - this might’ve just changed the game. 
From the thumbnails, these appear to be real people. People of all ages, from young adults to older lovers. Nudity plastered across his screen in all different shapes and sizes, a variety of lengths and cup sizes before him. There are people consensually exploring kinks and couples in love, everyone engaging in a variety of different sexual acts from solo stuff to threesomes to orgies. This has it all, gay, straight,  and everything in between. After scrolling through, Joel notices that there’s a little magnifying glass to search for whatever one may fancy. Joel clicks on this and he first searches ‘boobs’. Then ‘big boobs’, ‘small boobs’, ‘blowjobs’, ‘doggy style’. With each search term he types in, the screen loads with various videos of his request. And then, just for shits and giggles, he searches for his favorite - ‘lingerie’.
The results are everything he dreamed of. Forget Victoria’s Secret, this has it all. Women of different sizes and skin tones, all in various stages of undress. Some wearing bras and panties, others wearing lace babydolls and teddies. One particular thumbnail has his interest piqued, though. It’s a woman in a robe, leaning towards the camera so her cleavage is showing. “Let me strip tease you ;)” is the title of her video. 
CLICK HERE TO WATCH.
She doesn’t need to tell Joel twice. Joel clicks the link and watches a little popup on his screen indicate that a video is downloading. Once downloaded, he opens the file and begins to watch the video. The woman featured is cute, he thinks. She’s a curvy redhead and she’s teasing, smiling - he likes that. Those Victoria's Secret models don’t smile like this. She lifts her lacy pink robe and shows her ass where there’s a cute little heart-shaped peekaboo cutout in her panties. Joel likes that too. Joel’s been absentmindedly stroking himself and he sighs in contentment. She’s about to open her robe, show him her breasts and–
Windows System Alert
Error Code: 0x80070070
Your computer has encountered a critical issue due to a potentially harmful program. This issue has affected system files and may cause instability or loss of data.
Please take the following actions immediately:
Save all work in progress.
Disconnect from the internet.
Run a full system scan with your security software.
For further assistance, contact technical support.
“Well, that ain’t right,” Joel mumbles. Joel clicks on the little red X in the top right corner to make it disappear, but the popup is right back where it was, blocking that cute redhead from giving Joel a virtual show. He tries closing the message again, it pops right back up. Growing slightly irritated, Joel closes the media player altogether and reopens the downloaded strip tease video. It won’t open. “The fuck?” He tries opening an old untitled document from months ago, and yet again he’s met with the same error message. The popup is arriving in multiples now, blocking his screen. It’s like whack-a-mole, the way he’s closing one and two more pop up in its place.
Joel’s out of his depth here, so he decides to consult an expert. He lives right across the street from a total computer whiz, so he’ll ask her for help. He tucks himself back into his jeans with a soft groan, zips and buttons his jeans before making his way to her house. 
-
You’re vacuuming your floor when you think you hear the faint sound of knocking, so you turn around to see a figure standing on your porch through your window. It’s Joel. Devastatingly handsome, grumpy, single dad. 
You and Joel got off to a rocky start when you moved into the neighborhood a couple years back. He used to hound you about letting your grass grow too long, and you’d argue back by telling him that it’s good for the environment. Growing tired of your protesting, Joel decided to start mowing your lawn for you, without your consent. Not that you really minded, he always wears his grass-stained white and navy New Balance sneakers, his few-inches-too-short denim cutoffs and an old white tank top, stained with grease and his own sweat. It clings to his body, outlining his soft belly. His slightly graying but dark, damp curls cling to his perspiring forehead as his thick thighs clench with every step he takes, pushing that heavy lawnmower up and down your front yard. You compensate him with glasses of fresh squeezed lemonade, offer him a cool wash rag that he wipes his forehead with, the sweat and water dripping down his temple, over the stubble on his jaw. Tensions softened then, and Joel’s been a nice neighbor to have ever since. He, his brother and daughter are good people. 
You tap the button on the bottom of your vacuum cleaner with your toe, shutting it off before opening the door for Joel. He looks a little disheveled - he’s breathing heavily, pupils blown wide. “You busy right now?”
“For you? You know I’m always too busy,” you smirk, tapping your foot against his shoe. 
“Yeah, whatever. Listen, I’m findin’ myself in need of your computer expertise. Would you be able to help me, darlin’?”
It’s the way Joel calls you darlin’, how he flashes those sparkling, chocolate eyes at you, bats his long lashes and smiles at you in such a way that you’re sure he’s deliberately trying to send you to an early grave. You’re wrapped around Joel’s finger but nevertheless, you work your angle. “My time is precious, Joel. How will you make it worth my while?”
Joel rolls his eyes, “Oh, give me a break. I’ll mow your lawn. Does that work for you, princess?” 
“You already mow my lawn.” 
“Yeah, and I’ll keep mowin’ it. How’s that?” 
“Cheap,” you quip. But you still smile and close the door behind you, and Joel blushes as you unknowingly take the hand Joel was just pleasuring himself with in yours, swinging your arms between you playfully as you cross the street to his house together. Your skin tickles when Joel places a hand on your lower back, guiding you to his computer setup before pulling out the chair for you. You log into his computer using his own username and password, something you know by heart. Joel has forgotten his password so many times, he used to call you - at a minimum - twice a week to ask you what it was. The only solution to that issue was for you to write it down on a post-it note and stick it next to the monitor for him. He absolutely hates that you’ve made him put dollar signs and exclamation marks in his password. “Seems unnecessary,” is what he would say, annoyance lacing his tone. 
You retorted with, “Well if you can’t even get into your own computer, how could anyone else?” and Joel shrugged and nodded.
Joel pours both himself and you a glass of ice water, then sits down at the dining room table behind you. “So it’s uhh…” he starts, interrupting himself to sip his water. “Got this error message thing when you click on a file.”
Clicking a file, you see the error popup Joel’s referring to. “I see,” you mumble, clicking on a few others. Joel watches your brows furrow in concentration, a frown painting your lips. 
Oh, shit. Joel didn’t even think to delete that file. “W-what is it? Why’re you makin’ that face?”
“I’m diagnosing.”
Right. Of course you are. You haven’t seen anything you’re not supposed to see, because it’s not like the files would magically start opening for your eyes only. Right? “What’s the verdict, doc?” Joel jokes, hoping you don’t hear the way his voice wobbles slightly with anxiety. 
You suck in a breath through your teeth, “Not good,” you reply. “All of your files are corrupted, I thin–”
Joel interrupts, “What’s that, what’s corrupted? Is that bad?”
“Your turn,” you interrupt back, cocking an eyebrow at his impoliteness. It’s very unlike him.
“M’sorry, hon. Go ‘head, sorry.”
 Joel needs to get it together. He’s fidgety and high-strung. He needs to calm down. It’s fine. It will be fine. You’re gonna work your magic and you’re not gonna see anything you’re not supposed to see. When you’re done, you’re gonna go home and Joel will go right back to his private time as previously scheduled - that’s probably what his biggest problem is, he’s blue-balled himself and he’s all wound-up. Problem will be fixed, easy peasy.
 “When did you say this problem started again?”
“Uh, just a little bit ago,” Joel answers, walking over to the sink and getting himself a glass of water. “Thirsty?”
“No, thanks. What websites do you visit?”
Joel watches you browse his files and mess with the system preferences on his computer. “The weather mostly, or Amazon.. Orderin’ books for Sarah.” Which is a total lie, but he justifies this in his head by telling himself that you don’t need to know what website he visits the most. It’ll embarrass you both. And actually, Sarah prefers to go to the library. She even went today.
“Anything else?”
Joel lies again, “Check the news from time to time, check my team’s scores.” 
You hum in response and continue typing. Joel wishes he could type like that, watching your fingers effortlessly fly across the keyboard. He likes the sound it makes, the quiet clicking and the tapping of your manicured fingernails. “What about emails, you avoiding those scams I told you about?” 
“Yes.”
“Clicking on chainmail?” 
“I am not.”
“Not anymore,” you mumble under your breath. Joel rolls his eyes. You’ll never let it go, will you?
-
Chainmail is how you became Joel’s IT girl. For a couple of months, you’d received various emails from him that were just copy-paste chainmail messages. You know, the ones that say things like ‘Click here to verify your account information. Send to 10 friends and family members to verify their accounts as well.’ You’d just delete, delete, delete, and reply back asking him to stop emailing you these things. But Joel never stopped, day after day he’d send you chainmail. After receiving what felt like the eightieth spam email from [email protected], you decided to confront him. 
Joel awoke from an accidental afternoon nap to rather incessant knocking coming from his front door. He opened it only to find you on his porch, where you then proceeded to invite yourself inside. “What happened to hello?” he asked, his voice all sexy and raspy and his eyes tired, lines indenting his face from laying on the couch. He yawned, running his fingers through his curls to try and tame the bed head. You wondered if he always looked this handsome when he woke up.
“Sorry, hi,” you corrected. “Need to borrow your computer. Please.”
Yawning again, Joel sleepily gestured to his computer in the kitchen. “Knock yourself out. Damn thing ain’t actin’ right, though.”
You powered the machine on logged in using the post-it taped to his wall, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. Upon logging in and connecting to the internet, you noticed all sorts of glitches. Not even your computer ran consistently smoothly, but Joel’s was a wreck. Popups and error messages of all different kinds littered the screen, blocking the cute picture of himself and Sarah he had set as the background. “Wow, I couldn’t tell,” you teased. “You have more errors than you do applications on this thing, Joel.” Joel only shrugged in response. “Come sit by me,” you said.
Joel pulled up a seat next to you. “I wanna show you something. Can I open your email?”
“Go right ahead, hon.”
You opened Joel’s email and found his ‘sent’ box, where the last sent email was addressed to you. You clicked it and it opened to his last sent piece of chainmail. “I’ve asked you to stop sending me these emails,” you told him. 
Joel looked crushed almost, a look of puzzlement and what might’ve been hurt momentarily painting his features. “You have?”
“I have.”
The chainmail on the screen was a common one he’d send you, the one asking you to give up your information to protect yourself. “I was only tryin’ to be neighborly. I thought you’d like ‘em, y’know - want you to keep yourself safe.”
It was endearing, the way he explained himself. How he wanted you to stay safe. Your frustration dissipated, only to be renewed as you looked in his spam folder to find all of your replies to him in there instead of his main inbox. “Joel, why am I in your spam folder?” you asked, sighing. Joel simply shrugged and you didn’t even have words. By the look on his face, he probably didn’t even realize he had a spam folder, much less knew what one was. But you had greater concerns. “What are those emails supposed to keep me safe from?”
 “Well, from…” Joel’s mouth hung open as he thought about it, looked up and to the side as he began to realize he didn’t have an answer. “Uhh–”
“You don’t know, do you?” Joel shook his head. “Exactly. It’s called phishing, these emails you’ve been sending me aren’t real. They’re trying to get peoples’ personal information, like, look–” you pointed to the screen, showing Joel an example, “See? Here, it’s asking for your bank information.”
“And I wasn’t ‘sposed to give them that?”
You tilted your head in disappointment, “Joel.” 
Joel groaned and leaned back in his chair, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Yeah, I know. Fuckin’ idiot.”
You were about to tell him to call his bank, but he was already on it. He pulled his Nokia phone from his belt clip and called his bank to explain the situation. As you went through his inbox and deleted each and every one of the hinky-looking emails, you listened to Joel on the phone. 
“Didn’t realize there were these uh…email scams…Yeah, that charge was me. And that too…
 …Will you call me f’ya see anything suspicious? Okay.
 …Okay. Thank you, ma’am. Thank you. You too.”
From what you heard of the phone call, it seemed that he was safe. You guessed that Joel’s technological ineptitude is probably what had saved him, that he likely mistyped or misunderstood what the scam was attempting to do. You continued to delete scams and other malware-adjacent things from his computer as Joel hung up the phone call and sat back down with you. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, s’all good.”
Joel looked shaken, though. You touched his hand sympathetically and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’re gonna learn some internet safety today.”
“Figured. I need it.” 
“Yeah, you do,” you smiled. You went through his email, pointing out all the different scams. You told him not to click on links that look like this and that. This is a scam, this is too. You told him that anything attempting to sell fireworks, guns, or anything else at the low, low price of x amount isn’t real. And no, these emails here do not mean that you won a new TV or the lottery or a cruise. Anything that seems too good to be true definitely is. “...Actually,” you began, “All of these are from Tommy. New rule, don’t click on anything from Tommy.”
“Noted,” Joel replied. “I didn’t know any ‘a this.”
“Most people don’t. It’s new, yet. But you know now, so it’s okay.”
Joel breathed a sigh of relief, but he still looked overwhelmed. This time he took your hand and squeezed it. After a moment, he asked you where you learned all of this from. You explained you picked a lot of it up in school, just learning things here and there. Joel let you talk about it all and seemed genuinely interested and impressed.  
“I went through and fixed all that was giving you trouble, by the way. Your computer should be running smoother,” you said. “And I changed your password.  ‘abcde’ is not a good password, Joel.” 
From that day forward, you became Joel's official computer girl. He’d call you and have you help him when he couldn’t get his computer connected to the printer, when he screwed with the settings and the computer didn’t look or act the way he was used to. Even the most basic things, like whenever he had a new picture of himself and Sarah he wanted to change the background to. Not that you minded, you’d jump at any opportunity to poke fun at your handsome neighbor’s lack of computer knowledge.
-
“Did you click on any links from Tommy?”
Joel goes quiet at that, remembering your very specific rule to not engage with him over email. He looks down at his hands as he twiddles his thumbs together. “I might’ve…one or two, maybe”
“What kind of links?”
“There– Fuck, I don’t know. You know, just…websites. They take me to websites. But I don’t give ‘em my information,” he insists. 
“What’s on these websites?”
Joel thinks fast. “Truckparts,” he answers too quickly, and the two words come out as one. “Just truck parts,” he says again, slower.
“Well, you must’ve been looking at some sketchy truck parts. You’ve got a virus.” 
“Okay,” he says. “Figured as much. But you’ve fixed those before for me, haven’t you?”
“I have, but this one means business,” you reply, shaking your head. You start to type a bit, click the mouse as you go through and attempt to delete corrupted files, but it’s not working the way it should. You open Netscape and check the browsing history to see if that can clue you in as to what website could have done this to Joel’s computer. “You said it just started?”
“Just started, yeah,” Joel affirms.
Which…tracks. 
Today, Saturday, June 25, 2003
5:06 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/lingerie
4:54 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/doggy-style
4:50 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/blowjobs
4:49 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/small-boobs
4:49 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/big-boobs
4:45 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/home
His search history is nothing but porn, which you’re 99% sure is exactly what caused the virus. The time stamps all show that the site was visited within the last hour, and Joel says it just started, so… 
“What’re you lookin’ at?”
“Well,” you say, hesitating before answering fully. “I am looking at your search history.”
Joel stares at the monitor like a deer in the headlights. “There’s - my uh…” he swallows thickly, “They keep records of that?”
“Mhm.”
“Well I told you - just….lookin’ at parts,” Joel’s hand wobbles slightly as he sips on his water.
“Yeah, lady parts.”
Joel sputters on his drink, choking and coughing as he slams the glass down and water spills everywhere. He uses the bottom of his t-shirt to clean his mess as he begins to turn red, feeling his chest and neck and cheeks begin to warm. He can’t even look at you, but he hears your giggles and he can picture your smug grin and he wishes so badly he was dead right now. You’ve seen it all, you know everything. You know it and so does he. He’s gaining the courage to look at you and oh god - you’re scrolling through the dirty website. Giggling, you’re looking at everything he looked at, fucking everything. You’re seeing the same dicks he saw, the same pussies, seeing the purple links that indicate exactly what he’s already clicked on. “Yeah, laugh it up,” he says angrily, defensively. “Ain’t that funny.”
Joel’s world is ending, but it’s really not as bad as he thinks it is. The porn is tamer than what’s often found on the internet, much tamer than the shit you watch. You continue to explore the site as you listen to Joel tell on himself behind you.
“It’s just somethin’ to pass the time,” he says. “It’s natural, alright? And I know you do it too.” He’s deflecting. Even still, he’s not wrong, you certainly do take part. 
You just let him keep talking, relishing in having the upper hand in this situation. “You’re blushing,” you tell him when he quiets down, just to get him started and riled up again as you browse the site. You notice a lot of videos are duplicates, prompting users to download the same thumbnail uploaded by different usernames. Whatever Joel clicked on was probably not uploaded by a real person, though. He clocked on a gibberish username made up of random letters and numbers, unlike some other videos uploaded under actual names. Like Joel’s new found friend ‘cherry_girl_xo’, whose username link is purple. You smirk at that, turning around to look at Joel who definitely recognizes her. He’s bright red everywhere.  
You’re sure this website is the culprit, but you check the rest of his search history to see if any other clue lies in there, but see nothing of import. All you notice are various links to victoriassecret.com, over and over and over again. Based on that and his last searched term on that shady porn site, you can safely assume he’s got a thing for lingerie. Which - funnily enough, you’re wearing right now. Not the kind of lingerie Joel’s been beating off to, but similar. You’re wearing your laciest undergarments, a lavender colored bra with a matching thong. They’re your laundry day underwear, you know the kind - five years old and been sitting at the bottom of your underwear drawer untouched for four of those years, not very comfortable and only to be worn when you’ve just gotten off your period and all of your cotton bikinis and boyshorts are in the wash. That kind. 
After toying with Joel’s computer for a while longer while he twists uncomfortably in agonizing humiliation, you decide there’s not much else that can be done. “I think we have to wipe it all, Joel,” you tell him. “Delete everything and start fresh.”
Joel nods quietly. “Will I still be able to play pinball after?”
“Yeah, I’ll make sure you can play pinball,” you chuckle.
“Wipe it, then.”
And so you start the process, which will take a long while. The screen loads and loads as you and Joel wait quietly. You look at Joel, who’s got an elbow on the table as he rests his forehead in his palm. “What?” he snaps, noticing you staring at him. You can’t fight the giggles from erupting. “Would you quit fuckin’ gigglin’ like that? You know that a man’s got needs and I ain’t hurtin’ anyone–” You contort your lips into a forced frown, pressing them into a thin line and then covering your mouth to keep your laughter at bay, but you’re struggling. Joel can see the amusement still sparkling in your eyes and says your name in a warning tone. 
“I’m sorry,” you smile, raising your hands in surrender. “I won’t laugh. I’m sorry, Joel.”
“Better be,” he grumbles. He drinks the last of his water quietly as you think about something, something that’s been heavy on your mind for the last couple of minutes. What if Joel knew what you were wearing beneath your clothes? You’ve made this afternoon absolute hell for him and you know that - but you don’t care. You’ve had too much fun getting under his skin to stop now. 
The real dirty work begins when you unzip your sweatshirt and hang it over the back of your chair. When Joel looks at you, you bring your hand to your shoulder and gently pull up on your bra strap, letting it snap your shoulder.
Joel shifts in his seat and clears his throat, “You warm or somethin’?”
“Yeah, it’s a little hot in here.”
“Mm,” Joel spins his now empty glass between his thumb and pointer finger. When he looks back at you, he flips the glass. You’ve pulled the top of your tank top down, your lacy bra and cleavage on full display. He tries to make two moves at once, catch the rolling glass and cover his crotch because he’s just gone erect.  “Cute. I would appreciate it if you’d knock that off now, I get the picture. S’real funny,” he mutters as he scrambles.
“What picture?” you ask innocently. 
“Oh, don’t you start. You know exactly what damn picture,” Joel snaps. “You figured it out. Got a certain fondness for ladies in lace. You feel clever or somethin’?” 
You really can’t bite back your smile this time, “Mhm.”
“You shouldn’t. You’re exploitin’ my vulnerabilities, takin’ cheap shots and–” Joel’s jaw drops as he watches you unbutton your jean shorts and show off your panties, the little bow at the center of them nicely on display. His look of shock quickly turns into a glare as you take off your tank top. “Like that, that’s playin’ dirty. Put your shirt back on and zip yourself back up. What the hell’s gotten into you?”
“I dunno,” you shrug. You really don’t. This is just as surprising to you as it is to Joel, but the look on his face tells you that you’re definitely having way more fun than he is. 
“God, you’re killin’ me,” he groans. The way you’re so cavalier about this all has Joel both flummoxed and irate. 
But you’re not this bold usually, not really. Joel must not have noticed the way your hands have been trembling, must not have heard your slightly shaky breaths. He’s been avoiding eye contact too much to notice you’ve been doing the same. “Why?”
“Why? Cause I’m only a man and you’re gettin’ me all worked up. You’re takin’ advantage of me and my biology,” Joel gestures angrily to his crotch. He’s not even bothering to hide it anymore - you’ve seen it all and know what you’ve done to him. “You proud?”
“You’re–”
“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ hard - been hard. Didn’t get to take care of myself ‘cause of the fuckin’ virus and here you are teasin’ and temptin’ me and…Hon, what’re you -” Joel’s angered expression turns to momentary confusion when you stand up, then turns to contentment when you straddle his lap. You press your core into his thick bulge, holding onto his shoulders for stability. “What are you doin’?” he sighs, his head falling backward.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “For teasing.”
“Yeah, so you say, princess.”
You grind yourself on his lap and when Joel brings his head forward to search for your eyes, he notices how your eyes flicker away from his. Like maybe you’re not as in control of this situation as you appear to be. 
“I am.”
“Mm,” Joel hums. You’re reaching between your bodies and fumbling with the button on his jeans. He sucks in his soft belly to unbutton them for you, wraps his strong hand around your wrist and brings your hand to his mouth. “Gimme this,” he mumbles, spitting into your hand before he shoves it under the waistband of his boxers. A pang of arousal floods your gut at the action.
You palm his warm, heavy cock, feeling him thicken in your hand, though he’s already so hard. You can feel his rigid member throb and ache as you work his shaft up and down, up and down, your knuckles brushing against his thatch of coarse curls and his tummy. It’s evident how much he’s needed this, what with the way his chest rises and falls with his heavy breaths, soft groans escaping his lips as he does so. 
Joel enjoys himself as you work him. “Fuck,” he whispers. You look down between your bodies to admire his member, the blushed, leaking tip and the thick and prominent veins. And he’s so smooth, his skin almost silky. You watch his blissed out face, contemplate kissing those pink, pouting lips of his. You’re gonna do it, bringing your face close to his. Brushing your lips ever so softly over his, Joel moves to kiss you fully when you pull back. His computer makes that signature Windows startup sound,
“I have to take care of that,” you murmur. You dismount Joel and he picks up where you leave off, stroking his own cock just like you were. He watches your nearly naked body with hooded eyes that flutter shut as you work, typing quietly on his keyboard. You set his username and password the same, make sure that things open as they should. For Joel’s own protection, you block [email protected]
“Finished?” Joel asks as you stand up from your seat in front of his computer. 
“Mhm,” you reply, gripping his shoulder with your hand as you bend over halfway to pick up your discarded top and kiss his cheek. “Have fun with your Victoria’s Secret girls, Joel.”
Your work here is done. You’ve fixed Joel’s computer and by the look on his face, broken his heart. “What are you doing?”
You smile, too proud of yourself as you begin to walk away. Before you can walk further, Joel stands up and reaches across the table, grabbing you by the forearm and forcing you onto your back. “You ain’t gettin’ away from me that easy, princess,” he says. “I still got somethin’ that needs fixed.” Joel displays strength but is as gentle as can be, though the cold, hard wood against your spine and your shoulder blades hurt you for a moment. Your eyes widen in shock, but it’s a welcome pain. “Knew you weren’t fuckin’ sorry,” Joel spits. Your head dangles off the edge of the table and Joel uses a hand to open your mouth, forcing two of his thick fingers inside. Instinctually, you curl your tongue around the digits, sucking and licking. You can taste his cock on his fingers from when he was pleasuring himself just moments ago.
Joel pumps himself in his hand for a second before guiding his thick head to your lips, pushing past them in one quick thrust, right to the back of your throat so you gag. He likes that noise. “I give you an inch,” he grunts, “And you take a mile.” You slide your tongue over those thick veins of his you’d previously traced with your fingertips. Joel draws out of your mouth slowly, allowing you to lick his weeping slit before pushing himself back in. “It would’ve been courteous of you to keep my dirty secret to yourself, but you couldn’t even do that. Went an’ humiliated me instead, then you got the nerve to try ‘n leave me high and dry? I don’t think I deserve that.”
  Joel wants to fuck your mouth until your lips are raw and swollen, show you just what he thinks of your stunt. But he demonstrates self control, allows you to take him at your own pace and yet, you continue to tease. It’s like it’s innate or something, the way you continue to only give little by little, savoring the saltiness of his precome. He gives you one last warning, “You really should learn when to quit while you’re ahead, hon.”
You persist anyway. Wrong move. Joel fucks himself into your mouth with no regard for your comfort, taking what he needs from you. It’s sloppy and messy, his heavy balls bouncing off the tip of your nose. You wish you could see him, see the way he’d glare at you. He’s flipped like a switch, previously holding himself back from having his way with you like he wanted to. He’s taking it now. All the softness in him is gone, and you fucking love it. You reach forward, sliding your hand down your stomach, dipping it beneath your panties. You spread your legs wide and your fingers hover over your pussy, feeling that wet heat radiating from your core. Just as you let your fingers drop to touch your aching clit, you feel Joel lunge forward and pull your hand away. “Nuh-uh, not where I eat. Where are your manners, princess?” 
He fucks your mouth relentlessly, holding the sides of your head in his big hands. He watches the way your lace-covered tits bounce with his every thrust. He pushes himself deeper and deeper, ignoring your sputtering and choking on his cock. Your eyes prick with tears as your jaw begins to ache, really fucking ache. Joel doesn’t stop himself, and it’s not like he would if he knew you were crying like this. He fills the air with his own grunting and groaning, relishing in the warmth of your wet, soft mouth.
And then he’s done. No slowing to a standstill, just abruptly pulls out. You hear his heavy footsteps as he rounds the kitchen table, hooks his fingertips beneath the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down, pulls your hips close to his so your face is no longer dangling off the edge. He pulls your panties to the side, drags his thumb up and down your slick folds and it’s like the quiet before the storm. 
He notches himself in your entrance and pushes himself in, inch by inch by inch. Slowly, deliberately, so that you feel all of the stretching and aching he wants you to. “Joel,” you cry. “Fuck, Joel, please, I can’t–”
“You’ll get used to it,” he purrs. He leans over you as he fucks you slowly, holding your neck with his thumb on your jawbone while he kisses you to quiet you down, licking into your mouth and swirling his tongue around with yours. You whimper softly into his mouth with his every thrust, the pain not yet completely dissipated, but pleasurable in its own way. “Spread your legs. Wider.”
You open yourself up for him, allowing him to fuck himself deeper into you. You accept it all as he wraps your legs around his waist, your heels bouncing on his ass. The head of his cock kisses that sweet spot inside of you, pleasure beginning to take over your senses and you moan. “Fuck, Joel.”
“Feels good, don’t it? Maybe this whole virus fiasco was a blessing in disguise, darlin’,” Joel says, “Feels good f’me too.”
You cry out loudly when he puts your legs up on his shoulders, the new angle has him inside you even deeper than before. He sits you up a bit, putting your arms behind your back and pressing your palms down flat on the table with his own. 
He draws out of you and fills you up again, over and over and over. “Fuck, look at us,” he kisses your ankle a couple of times, “Look,” Joel looks down where your bodies meet and you join him, watching how his cock slides in and out of you, all wet and coated in your slick. Panties still pulled to the side, your skin is irritated where the fabric tugs and scratches at your skin. He maintains a quick rhythm, rolling his hips into yours. 
“Make me come, Joel, I want to come.”
“Oh, I’ve got no doubt you do. But maybe I’ll leave you high and dry like you were gonna do to me, see how you like it. What a waste that’d be, huh?” You whine at the threat and Joel smiles deviously, he likes having you at his mercy like this. All pathetic and begging for him to let you come undone. “You’re nothin’ but talk, aren’t you?”
“Make me come, please.”
“You’ll have to convince me,” he says. “You heard me, convince me. Better make it quick.”
Your brain is short-circuiting, you can’t even process what Joel said and begin to make your case. You feel him twitching, his hips stuttering and before you know it, he’s spilling into you. He paints your insides with his hot spend, milking himself entirely in your cunt and your disappointment is incalculable. Tears of frustration well up and threaten to spill down your cheeks. It was all fun and games before, but you suddenly feel so used and betrayed. You can’t say he didn’t warn you. 
“Ohh, I know,” he coos, wiping your eyes. “Bit off more than you could chew, didn’t you?”
You nod, sniffling quietly. 
“You can still convince me. I’m all ears, ya know.”
“How?”
“Well,” Joel says. He’s beginning to soften inside of you, and so he pulls out with a soft ‘fuck’, his spend spilling out of you and onto his table. “Can start with an ‘I’m sorry, Joel’. And I want a real one this time.”
“I’m sorry, Joel.”
“S’a good start. Wanna give me some more? Tell me why?”
“F-for teasing you and stuff.”
“For teasing me and stuff,” he repeats your words slowly. Joel pulls off his t-shirt and folds it tightly, places it at the end of the table and lowers your head onto it. “You’re lucky you’re pretty.”
Joel kneels before you and wraps his arms around your thighs. He presses a kiss over your cloth-covered core, feeling the dampness of your arousal and his spend on his lips. He spreads your legs wide, exposing your wet cunt for him, lips all swollen and ribbons of his spend clinging to your folds. He admires the thick curls framing your pussy, “I gotcha,” he whispers. “C’mere.”
You gasp when Joel finally, finally begins to explore you, his tongue parting open your folds. He pulls back and pushes one, then two fingers inside you, humming in satisfaction at the way you suck him in, so eager and needy for his touch. He curls his fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and jerk as you try to keep yourself still. 
“Oh, Joel,” you moan as he laps at your cunt, feeling that warm, sticky feeling flow through your hips. His mouth and fingers work together to bring you closer to your edge, humming as he rhythmically strokes that sweet spot inside of you. His tongue is so hot, wet, and firm as he drags it up and down your sex, circling your clit with the muscle. “Mmm, fuck. Oh, god.”
Joel doesn’t know what’s more satisfying, the sweet taste of this most private place between your thighs or the sounds of your pleasure as he eats you. He devours you voraciously, sucking one fold and nipping at the other as he curls his fingers, never faltering in their movements. With his free hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he reaches around and pulls the hood of your clit back to suck and lick the sensitive bud. His dark, slightly graying and wiry stubble drags across the skin of your inner thighs, scratching you gently. It’s building up quickly, that familiar feeling deep in your spine.
“I’m–” a moan rips through your chest and interrupts you, “Fuck, I’m–”
“I know, hon,” he whispers, escalating his efforts. He sucks, licks, and curls his fingers harder, feeling the slow build of you beginning to come apart for him. You come on his lips and spill into his hand as Joel works you through your orgasm. You’re a gushing, moaning mess, your hands fly to his scalp and you tug on his soft curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt. And then another, slower. Another yet, even slower. 
You expect him to pull away from your center with a satisfied grin, his mustache and beard dampened by your slick. But he stays put, licking more long stripes up and down your pussy. Your thighs twitch and flutter uncontrollably and Joel holds you apart for him as he continues to tease, circling the tip of his perfect, aquiline nose around your clit. 
“Too much, it’s too much,” you cry. 
“Mhm. But you got one more in you, I know you do.”
“Joel–” 
You think you might break. You’re not sure where you feel Joel’s tongue, you just feel him fucking everywhere. You don’t know where your orgasm begins and ends, just that by the time Joel decides you’re done, you’re in sweet agony and he luxuriates in the taste of your second release. He’s made such a pretty mess of you. He presses one last kiss to your core, “Yeah, that was a good one, wasn’t it?”
Joel pulls away from your center, wiping his lips on your thighs. His cheeks are flushed and his dark eyes sparkle. He lets you catch your breath as he fills a glass of water for you and brings it to your lips helping you to drink as your hands are still trembling from it all. 
When the moment passes, you gather your clothes. You pull on your tank top and put your shorts back on. “Oh,” you say. 
“Hm?”
“I blocked Tommy’s email, just so you know. He’s trouble.”
Joel chuckles. “You, my darlin’, are trouble. But that’s probably for the best, thank you for fixin’ my computer again.” 
“It’s no problem,” you reply. 
“Oh–” Joel grabs something from his stack of mail on his countertop and hands it to you. It’s some Victoria’s Secret coupons.“This was addressed to you. Ended up in my mail. Fuckin’ mail guy.”
You giggle quietly, what a curmudgeon he is. “Actually, I think you need it more than I do. You can beat off to your angels in analog,” you tease.
Joel rolls his eyes. “You just don’t learn, do you?” he says, taking the coupons back from you. “And actually, think I will hang on to this. Maybe I’ll even buy you somethin’ pretty an’ we can do this again soon.”
If you enjoyed, please reblog, comment, send me an ask, just tell me something nice <3 your words keep me motivated to write.
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ghouljams · 1 day
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Inspired by this post and @waves-against-a-cliff "Cbf!Johnny" comment. I present more of John Mactavish as the dog he is.
cw: dubcon(reader agrees but just covering my bases), f!reader, overstimulation
Living with Johnny was an easy decision. You've known him your whole life, and with his frequent deployments you usually have the flat to yourself. It's like living alone, except sometimes your best friend is around for "long term sleep overs" as he pitched them. He has his share of the bills on autopay and for the most part it's fun when he's around. You watch movies and throw popcorn at each other. You laugh at his stupid jokes in between complaining about your most recent attempt at dating.
"You know it wouldn't be so bad if any of them were halfway decent in bed," You tell Johnny absentmindedly. He's got his head in your lap, eyes focused on the TV screen as your fingers pet through his hair, barely paying attention.
"Hard getting practice in, not like you can ask a bird to play test dummy," He shrugs. You groan, leaning back against the couch. You guess that's fair, but it's not like you're asking for anything spectacular. An orgasm shouldn't be this hard to come by.
"The special service isn't training you to give head?" You tease.
"No that's just the navy." Johnny grins, finally turning his attention to you. His eyes dart over you, he's got that spark in his eyes that means he has a bad idea. "You know," He rolls the idea over his tongue, "I'm a little out of practice."
You push at his head with a laugh. Johnny sits up rather than be pushed off the couch and grabs your hips to drag you close. You shriek and feel his fingers pinching at your soft sides until you laugh.
"Good for both of us, yeah?" He asks, "I get to practice and you get off."
"You're not funny," You giggle out between fits of laughter. You twist in his grip to crawl away and he pulls you right back. His fingers tighten hard enough to bruise and you whine at the ache. "Ow, Johnny." You kick at him and he catches your ankle, flipping you onto your back.
"Lemme see your cunt." He says and the air rushes from your lungs. You stare up at him, his smile too wide. You've always found his toothy grin to be boyish, charming, but now it feels warning, predatory. You blink at him, feeling your cheeks starting to burn.
"Not funny," You tell him more firmly, turning to tug yourself out of his grip, your fingers twisting against the arm of the couch. You forget how strong military life has made him, too familiar with the scrawny kid you used to beat at footie. Johnny pulls you with a strength you've never felt, hauls you down the couch to lean over you. He's actually starting to scare you a little, the heat in his eyes is too close to burning and his teeth seem so dangerously promising.
"I'm not joking," His fingers drag from your hip, trail down to rest against the soft swell of your mons. He holds your legs open with the hand around your ankle and you struggle to take a breath. "Who else am I gonna practice on? You tell me what you like, yeah? And I'll show you what I can do with my tongue."
"Johnny I don't-"
"Ya were just sayin' you're in a dry spell," He reasons, his fingers rubbing teasingly between the waistband of your sleep shorts and just dipping too close to your clit, "can tell me exactly what you want as long as you want, know ple'ny of hens would love this opportunity."
Somehow that gets you. You wince at the mention of someone else, Johnny's never been one to date but he brings girls home sometimes. Or- no he usually goes to their place. Stays out late drinking with the boys and doesn't come home until late in the morning. You scrunch your brows together and he starts in on the begging.
"Please hen? Please," He pouts, dropping to rest his chin against your hip, "please? Please. Lemme do it. You gotta. Please. Ahm askin' nice an' everythin'. Please, please, please."
"Christ," you push at his face, just so you don't have to look at it anymore, "Fine, but just this once."
"Just this once tonight," Johnny agrees too quickly, already ripping your shorts down your legs.
You expected any sort of hesitation, but it feels like you've barely gotten your pants off before Johnny's pressed his mouth to your pussy. His tongue licks broad stripes, his head wiggles to try and push closer, lips kissing and sucking at your folds so eagerly it makes your head spin. You swallow, he's messy, unorganized, but the enthusiasm is there. Your fingers find his hair again and you swallow down your hesitation a second time. Johnny's your best friend, you can tell him anything, so you can tell him what you like.
"My clit," You start, tugging at his hair, "lick- lick it, um-" Johnny follows directions well, moving easily to flick his tongue against your clit. It's too gentle, maddeningly gentle, you can just barely feel it. "Harder," You suggest, "more pressure." Johnny presses his tongue harder against you, laves his tongue like a wave against your clit with firm pressure. You whine, feel him drag his mouth against you, his beard scratching your sensitive thighs. His tongue maintains its position, licking at your clit with varying degrees of intensity, testing the waters and listening to your soft panting whines.
You meet his baby blue eyes, his pupils blown wide, and he pulls back to let you see the way his tongue moves. Flat and pink, flicking against the sensitive bundle of nerves in teasing licks before he lowers down again. "You can s-suck too," You manage.
"Where hen?" He asks, lips closing around your clit and sucking hard. Your next words die on your tongue, your mind flooded with the sudden pleasure. His pulls back, and you try to come up with the words again, watching his thumbs spread your folds to further expose your clit to him. He sucks at it again, tongue working against it when his lips aren't pulling it. He only stops to work his tongue between your folds, dragging the tip around your hole to collect slick before pulling it towards your clit. "Gotta be specific or I won't know."
He's such a cheeky fucking bastard. He sucks at your folds, sucks at your thighs as his thumb rubs over your clit. Johnny's mouth is on your clit every time you open your mouth to give another direction. He works you up and then lets you drop back down, his lips kissing over your like he has all night.
"Fuck," You whine, hips following his mouth as he drags his tongue from your hole to your clit, "Johnny." He hums, lips around your clit, tongue fluttering against the sensitive bud. "Your tongue my-" He pulls off with a wet noise, and holds his tongue against your slit, waiting like a dog for your next order, "-my, uh-" fuck, having to ask for it out loud is embarrassing, and yet the heat on your cheeks has started to spread through your entire body, "-my hole. Please." You tack the politeness onto the end. You feel a little... guilty asking, but it's Johnny and he asked you to do this. (sort of)
"Look at you," Johnny coos, "such a good girl, so polite when ya want somethin'." You throw your arm over your eyes so you don't have to look at him. Your skin burns with embarrassment. You can't look at him right now.
"Shut up," You mumble. You feel his tongue prod at your clenching hole, the squirmy muscle wiggling it's way inside you to lap at your gummy walls. Johnny sucks your slick straight from the source and groans. The noises he makes, the wet slurping and sucking, make your blood run hot. His thumb rubs at your clit, his tongue stretching you out, the combination makes your cunt tingle with pleasure. Your whines sound more desperate than you'd hoped.
Johnny pulls back, dragging his tongue in broad strokes up your cunt. His licks are long and desperate, too eager to taste you, his eyes closed in bliss even as his ears twitch with your every moan. His mouth leaves you, and you pull your head up from where you'd been arching off the couch to see what he needs. Meeting his gaze is a mistake. As soon as your eyes touch his hand comes down hard on your clit. You yelp, as his fingers soothe over the sting. The sharp pain dissolves into heat, tingles over your skin like a rush of goosebumps. His fingers tap at your clit, and you whimper.
"You gotta keep talkin' hen," He presses, his fingers toying with your folds, "or I might start pullin' at the leash."
"You hit me," You whine. He pouts at you, imitating your own pout, and spanks you again. Your hips jump, your head dropping back against the couch. Two more sharp stinging spanks hit you and your stomach clenches. You can feel slick dripping off of your cunt and wetting the couch underneath you, which means Johnny can feel it too.
"Think you like it," Johnny grins, his fingers press into your cunt, two thick digits filling you without warning. You whine, clenching around the intrusion. "I thought you were helpin' me practice," His fingers twist in and out of you, and you grab for his wrist, "Where's my polite girl gone, hm?"
You squeeze his wrist, try to get him to stop fucking you with those delicious twisting jabs. It only makes him fuck his thick fingers into you faster. You gasp, your muscles tightening as he hits that delicious sweet spot you never seem able to find yourself. Moans drip from your lips, his fingers only slowing when Johnny lowers his mouth to suck at your clit again. You try to blink the stars from your eyes, your lashes fluttering until you can't keep your eyes open anymore. Your pleasure crashes into you with shaking legs, your pussy fluttering greedily around Johnny's fingers.
It's not good enough for him. His mouth leaves you, his breath heavy, and his fingers thrust into you hard. You writhe against the couch, your whines turning high and tight. The spring in your stomach coils and coils, holding you at an edge that doesn't seem to have an escape. The begging in your head falls out of your mouth.
"Please, please," You sob, your hips humping Johnny's fingers, "please Johnny, gonna come."
"Oh bonnie thing," He coos, his fingers picking up their pace, "you come as much as you want, my polite girl." His words split through you. Your back arches, your hips jump, the tightness turns into popping heat and wetness, and you come. Your slick squirting up his arm as he makes soft encouraging noises. Johnny's fingers never stop moving, your orgasm drawn up and released again and again until your hips hurt. Your insides ache, your cunt pushing at his fingers desperately for a break.
Your head is spinning, your vision blurry and your body heavy when you find enough energy to open your eyes. You glance down at Johnny, watch the way he rubs his cock against you. His tip is red and angry, drooling, the length is already coated in the slick it pulls from between your legs. You twitch when he nudges your clit, whimper at the sensitivity.
"Johnny?" He isn't looking at you, eyes glued on the mess between your legs, on the glaze of your come coating your pussy, dripping down your thighs. He wrenches his gaze from you only to shush you, leaning over your body to press his lips against your cheek.
"Just practice," He mumbles, "doesn't count, doesn't mean anythin', does it dummy?"
You feel his tip nudge against your entrance.
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emmyrosee · 2 days
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Imagine having a kid with Sukuna and him urging you to have a day out after giving birth and taking care of the baby so you can have a fun stress free day with friends, and then him having a daddy daughter date. I thought it’s cute 🥰
oh… oh you KNOW HOW I FEEEEEEEEL ABOUT A DAD!AU (bro this got so long im sO SORRY-)
———
“Okay, there’s three bottles of milk in the fridge.”
“Okay.”
“And her melts are in the cabinet!”
“I know, I live here too.”
“Oh! And her stuffed lamb is her favorite to nap with-“
“Babe,” Sukuna laughs, wrapping an arm around you. In his other arm, Akiara is held securely, with an arm under her thighs to keep her perched against his chest, the pacifier in her mouth bouncing as she rattles a small toy in her hands. “I got this. It’ll be fine.”
“Okay, but if you need me, call me.”
“I’m not going to call you. Go have fun,” he encourages. Deep down, he knows you’re terrified to leave the baby with anyone for more than 15 minutes, always keeping her in close proximity and within earshot. The farthest you’ve gone is to shower while Sukuna indulges with tummy time, and it seems that every time, you’re surprised the house hasn’t crumbled in the brief period.
But Akiara is five months now. And your friends begged you to come shopping with them, missing you from outings with the group. Sukuna knows you trust him implicitly, but your separation anxiety is physically felt in the air this point. He pulls you in for a hug and presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “go. If the house catches on fire, I’ll call you. Otherwise, I can handle a few hours with my own spawn.” You tense slightly, and he offers you a stern look, “do you trust me?”
“Of course I do, but-“
“Then let me take care of everything. Go.”
You offer him a shaky sigh and make your way over to Akiara in his arms, “mommy loves you so much, okay?” You whisper. She babbles and grabs your hair, and Sukuna can see the nervous tears welling up. “I’ll be home in two hours tops.”
“Don’t time yourself,” he chuckles. “Go with your girlfriends. I gave you the credit card, go buy some clothes, or a necklace, or those expensive ass pastries you love so much.” Then, he nods his head towards the door, “scram. Before you cry your mascara off.”
“Okay,” you sigh. “Okay-“ you blow them both a few kisses as you slowly make your way to the door, “I love you both so much. Behave. Oh, and nap time is at 1:30-“
“Babe. Go,” he snickers. He watches as you open the door and walk backwards out, your eyes focused on the two of them until the door shuts fully, keeping you outside and them on the inside. Sukuna sighs in relief and he adjusts Akiara to be held arms length, “you, stinky girl, need a bath,” he hums, and when the little girl coos, he brings her tiny body up to his mouth to playfully bite her chubby belly, hiccupy laughter filling the air briefly before he pulls a face of disgust and holds her back out. “Yeah. You stink. Like a lot.”
Sukuna wastes no time in setting up her bathtub and cleansing the tiny child with her soaps, letting her splash the warm water for some time until she reaches up for him. He barely gets her out of the tub and into a towel before his phone buzzes wildly. He sighs and answers it, “do I have to block your number?”
“No!” You whine. “I just wanted to see how things were going. I just got to the restaurant, wanted to make sure everything was okay before I ate.”
“Well the dog got out, I broke a vase and our kid went to college, so not great,” he says flatly, and when you huff in annoyance, and smirks, “everything is fine. She just had a bath, I’m trying to dry her off, and then we’re going to watch some of those dancing fruits she likes so much. Goodbye.”
“Wait- you bathed her before you fed her?” You ask.
He pulls his mouth into a straight line, “yes. Because she smelt like shit fart-“
“Sukuna!” You snap.
“If I have to bathe her again, I will. It’s not the end of the world,” he tries to soothe. When you click your tongue he chuckles again. “Okay. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” you say, ending the phone call. He pockets the device and looks down at his child. “Shes your mother alright,” he says. His daughter merely babbles and chews on her fingers. He gets her settled into a clean diaper before hoisting her back and onto his hip, making his way to the living room, resting her on his massive stomach and clicking on the TV for some entertainment. There’s a baseball game on, surely you won’t mind if he indulges while his baby lays on his chest.
The colors are good stimulation.
“Who you got money on?” He asks Akiara, who blinks eyes like yours up at him. When she smiles a gummy smile, he shrugs, “I don’t know. They’ve got a really good pitcher.” His thick fingers gently stroke up and down her spine, so gently and warm that he feels Akiara’s breathing slowly even out, his little girl falling asleep on his chest. He winces, he knows you’re not going to be thrilled about an early nap time, but who the hell is he to wake a sleeping baby?
A sleeping baby who sleeps for hours. You’re going to be pissed at him.
By the time the game is over, Akiara is still fast asleep on his chest, tiny hands balled into fists as her long lashes lay on her cheeks. Sukuna’s gotta give you credit, you haven’t called or texted since her bath, and now it’s well into four hours since you’ve left and you’re still out with your friends. He’s proud of you.
He’s not sure how long in total Akiara was sleeping for, but not long after the game, she slowly twitches awake, eyes fluttering open before fixating on him. He watches fondly as her body slowly wakes up, starting with her sleepy eyes that blink open, followed by her mouth which opens to let out the smallest yawn.
“Good morning, sleepy girl,” he hums, gently cradling the back of her head. “Was that a good nap?” Akiara merely thunks her head back against his chest in response. He kisses her head softly before standing up, shuffling to the kitchen to grab one of the prepared bottles from the fridge. He pops it in her mouth, where her tiny fists assist him in holding it. The child drinks the milk happily, wide eyes blinking as she downs the beverage hungrily. He smirks, “definitely my kid.”
With that, you come home.
He can tell by the jingling of keys you’re trying to hurry in as fast as possible, and he snickers at your struggle. Once the door finally creaks open, you haul your bags into the home and kick the door shut, smiling as your eyes land on your little family. “Hey you.”
“What’s up?” He hums, kissing you as you get close. “How was it?”
“It was great!” You squeal, and he can’t fight the way his heart squeezes at your excitement. “I got some new dresses, a pair of heels, some perfumes- oh, and I got you a cologne-“
“That’s my girl,” he says, but he can tell your attention is focused on the small girl he’s currently burping, and he shrugs, “you want to take over?”
When you nod sheepishly, he gently passes Akiara over to you, and you coo down at her, “hi, Mumma’s girl,” you coo, and she burps loudly in your face. “Well excuse you!”
Sukuna can’t fight the laughter that barks from his throat, snickers tearing through until you’re smiling and shaking your head, and he pulls you in for another hug.
He loves that his small family fits in his arms.
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hollandsangel · 2 days
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2:15 am | c. sturniolo
HI yes im alive who’s surprised (me, i am)
self proclaimed mayor of the ‘chris can’t sleep alone’ club (doing gods work, you’re welcome)
summary: chris cant sleep & you’re the perfect remedy
wc: 834
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gif by @hotelstares !
you haven’t been asleep very long. maybe twenty minutes or half an hour.
you’re in the midst of a fuzzy dream when your phone starts to vibrate on your dresser next to your bed. the sound is difficult to recognize at first, getting all mixed up with your dream in your mind. eventually it wakes you up, tugging you away from the soft haze you’d been emersed in.
groggily, you reach over for the device, squinting your eyes to try and read the contact. your eyes are bleary, but you’re able to make out your boyfriends name and contact photo after a brief seceond.
“chris?” you wonder through the line upon answering, voice thick with sleep and hardly above a whisper.
“hey ma,” his voice is smooth, like he hasn’t been asleep yet.
“hi…i think i was dreaming about you,” you say as you let your head fall back against the pillow, rubbing gently at your eyes with your other hand.
“yeah?” he says through a deep breath. the smile your confession elicits from him is audible and contagious.
“yeah, either that or i just spent the last four days with you and my brain hasn’t realized we’re apart yet,” you think he must be able to hear your smile as well.
“my brain hasn’t really realized it either,” he mumbles, getting a little bit shy.
you close your eyes, content being soothed by his voice.
���what time is it?” you ask him, even if you could easily look at your phone screen for the answer. opening your eyes feels like too much work.
chris answers of course, without hesitation, “2:15,”
“it’s pretty late, you okay, bub?” you ask him before answering your own question, “can’t sleep?” you know how he gets, always needing someone close by when he drifts off.
you can imagine it’s a bit difficult tonight, considering you spent the last few nights sharing his bed. you’d found it a little harder than normal too, having gotten used to his arms tucked around you, his face pressed against your shoulder blade.
“i miss you,” he mutters and it makes you blush, “and i don’t wanna crawl into bed with matt or nick, i know it won’t help,” he admits, letting out a long breath.
“you wanna come over?”
“would that be okay?” he seems a little bit embarrassed, like he might be inconveniencing you.
“of course, chris,” you open your eyes now, reaching over to turn on your bedside lamp, “i want cuddles now,” you say sheepishly, face still half pressed against your pillow, muffling the words.
“mmk, i’ll get an uber, be there soon,”
“kay, love you,” you sigh, waiting for him to hang up.
“love you too,” he says first, making you smile even if you’ve heard it a thousand times.
in the twenty minutes it takes for chris to show up, you’re drifting in and out of sleep, trying your hardest to keep the lull of exhaustion at bay as you wait, no matter the difficulty.
soon enough, the sound of a key in the lock sends a small jolt of wakefulness through you, and you anticipate the subtle push of the door as he comes through to your bedroom.
“nick or matt’s bed wasn’t good a enough?” you tease, watching him turn a little red as he shuffles into your room.
“i wanted to sleep in your bed,” he mumbles, beanie hanging low and covering his eyebrows, pajama pants hanging lower. he lifts the duvet and crawls in with you, immediately wrapping you in his arms, “nd’ i wanted to sleep with you, not my stinky brothers.”
you laugh, stifling it against the blankets “m glad you’d rather snug with me,”
“you kidding? you’re the best snugger around.”
“i’d say,” you hum, tugging his beanie off and tossing it somewhere on your floor.
he gives you a squeeze before reaching over to turn you so you’re facing him, “thanks for letting me come over,” he mutters, beaming in the low light. he looks so pretty like this, grinning down at you, illuminated by the soft glow of your lamp. he reaches up slightly and brushes your hair from your face.
you have a small moment of realization; he’s admiring you the same way you’re admiring him. you think your heart grows in size, gratitude making it swell up.
“thanks for comin’,” you whisper back, leaning up so your noses touch.
chris closes the gap, giving you a gentle kiss before pulling back and kissing your forehead too.
“night,” he tucks you against him, keeping you close, “i love you,” it’s sweet, how his tone changes. it’s tired now, chalked full of sleep and you can’t help but think it’s because he’s with you now, and that’s what puts him at ease enough to finally relax.
“i love you too,” you whisper into the barely-there space between you, watching as his eyes close and his lashes kiss the tops of his cheeks.
you can’t help yourself, leaning forward just enough to kiss him there too.
.
.
.
.
tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose @strnilolo @grimholic @tworosesblackthorn @mattscoquette @dazednmatthews @pinkishpearls
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fastandcarlos · 2 days
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When He Pulls You Into His Hold » F1 Reaction
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» Max Verstappen
Making you jump is one of Max’s favourite things to do, and so he tends to pull you into his hold when you least expect it. The way your face flashes with panic makes him chuckle until you look back and realise that it’s only Max, allowing your expression to settle back into a smile. As much as you want to hit him for making you jump in terror, you can’t help but just relax into Max’s hold and rest your head against his chest whilst his fingers dance through your his, especially once he begins to kiss against the top of your head.
» Lando Norris
Usually Lando will hold onto you whenever he starts to feel his anxiety creeping in. He holds you to feel secure and loved, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he feels your hands over his arm. “You good bub?” You often whisper back to him, feeling his head nod against your bare skin as he struggles to find the words. Having you to squeeze is the perfect distraction for Lando, switching off and escaping into the bubble of only you and him. Whenever he can feel his heartbeat quicken, he searches for you to bring him back again.
» Charles LeClerc
You could be forgiven for thinking that Charles isn’t paying attention to you a lot when he pulls you into his hold, but actually, he does. His mind wonders to think about you when he’s doing even the most boring of jobs: scrolling through his phone; pretending to listen to someone talk or when you’re getting ready for bed. Those are the moments when he wants you closest the most as the feeling of you right beside him brightens any moment and brings a smile to his face as soon as your eyes meet, sending Charles into a melting mess.
» Carlos Sainz
Sleepy Carlos is definitely the favourite version of him that you love holding onto. His grip is tight to begin with but slowly loosens as he finds himself relaxing more around you. A faint whisper of your name will call through and let you know that he wants you, being the big spoon around you as you tell him about your day. A cuddle and your voice are the perfect combination to leave Carlos feeling weary, and soon enough you can usually hear the faint sounds of snores coming from behind you as Carlos settles holding on to his comfort person.
» George Russell
Whenever he misses you, George is there and holding onto you tightly so that he can familiarise himself with you. No moment is better for you both then that first hug, when George holds onto you a little tighter and for a little longer. There are never any words between the two of you, just the way that you hold onto one another tells you both exactly how the other is feeling and just how much you’ve both been missed. The embrace makes both of youth warts race and releases several signs of relief from you both as you’re reunited again.
» Daniel Ricciardo
You expect Daniel to pull you into his hold whenever you’re within reaching distance, it’s a habit for him that makes his heart happy having you right there beside him. There’s almost a smirk on your face whenever you think that you’ve managed to pass Daniel, but at the last minute his hand wraps around your wrists and pulls you as close as he possibly can. His bright smile meets you as you glance up, “didn’t think you’d get away that easily, did you?” He can’t help but tease, kissing against your temple as your head shakes at his sniggers.
» Oscar Piastri
More than most Oscar likes to hold you as it’s his way of protecting you and making sure that you’re close by. “I got you,” he’ll often whisper to you before pressing a kiss against your cheek in amongst the chaos that engulfs your busy lives. Oscar prefers to have his arm wrapped tightly around you, but if he’s only able to intertwine one of his fingers in with yours, he’ll reluctantly take it, searching for more, as long as he can hold onto you somehow and reassure you that you’re not alone then that’s all that matters to him.
» Pierre Gasly
Teasing cuddles are Pierre’s absolute favourite, he’ll love to hold onto you and do something that will make you resist against him. “Not today,” he’ll whisper against your neck, using his hot breath to send a shiver down your spine, or he’ll pinch against your waist to tickle against your bare skin as your shirt rides up, tightening his grip ever so slightly so that you can’t get away from him. Anything Pierre can do to get you to plead with him and hear you murmur against his name in between laughter he’ll try his absolute best to succeed at.
» Lewis Hamilton
Holding onto you is a subconscious thing for Lewis, without even thinking his arms reach out to you and make sure that you’re as close to him as your bodies will allow. He could be in an important meeting or listening to an important person, but that doesn’t stop his fingertips from brushing against your body or his chin resting against your shoulder gently. It often sends shivers down your spine as you hear his hums just underneath your ear as he acknowledges what is going on around him, despite his mind mostly just being filled with thoughts of you.
» Lance Stroll
More than anything else it’s habit for Lance to be holding onto you, he doesn’t even need to think to do it anymore. He’s there because he wants to make you feel loved, if you’re happy he’ll hold you and giggle away with you, if you’re sad then he’ll squeeze you extra tight to try and make you smile again, or if you’re just fancying a cuddle, Lance will be there to fulfil your need. “Is this alright?” He will constantly ask you, desperate to make sure that he is doing the right thing and leaving you with a heart that made you feel adored.
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starkwlkr · 7 hours
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mum said no | lewis hamilton
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an: i love hot ones <3 that’s all
After canceling many times, Lewis finally made his appearance on Hot Ones with Sean Evans. He was a big fan of the show so he was happy to finally get to be a guest. Not only was he a big fan, but so was his eleven year old daughter, Maeve, so naturally she accompanied him to the set.
Maeve Hamilton watched as her dad ate spicy wings and answered questions. When talking about Roscoe, Maeve payed close attention. She loved talking about Roscoe so much.
On the monitor, a picture of Roscoe and Maeve appeared. Maeve was wearing a black Lewis shirt that her mum had bought from an Etsy store while Roscoe licked her face. It was the British Grand Prix and Maeve, along with her sisters, was beyond excited.
“Look, Mavy, that’s you and Roscoe!” Lewis pointed to the screen. “That was taken last year. Do you remember?” Lewis asked his daughter.
Maeve looked at the picture and nodded. “Angela took it!”
“Is your family always at the races?” Sean asked.
“Most of the time during the summer, yeah. It’s always a great time when they’re in the garage, but when it’s school time, they stay home with their mum.” Lewis explained. “They don’t like that at all. But I always tell them education comes first.”
“But I get lots of good grades.” Maeve cut in.
“What’s your favorite subject?” Sean asked the girl.
“I like science.” Replied Maeve.
As the show went on, Maeve was seated next to the camera crew, laughing at her father. He was now taking bigger bites.
“You can do it!” Maeve cheered on.
“Thank you, baby. Love you.” Lewis chuckled and blew a kiss to the girl. “I can always count on my girls to cheer me on.”
“On the topic of family, is it possible that Formula One could get another Hamilton on the track? Or do they want to go into other careers?” Sean asked.
“At one point, they did say they wanted to, but now they’re discovering more careers that they’re interested in. I will support them in whatever choice they make.”
You and Lewis both knew that your daughters would never be Formula one drivers. You both talked about how hard it would be on them. He saw how fans were tough on Mick. He didn’t want his girls to go through that.
The wings got spicier and all Maeve could do was laugh at the faces Lewis was making. He drank milk but that barely helped. Tears were starting to come out his eyes. Maeve noticed and quickly went to her father’s side and used a clean napkin to clean the tears since she didn’t want him using his own hands that were covered in sauce.
“Thank you, baby.” Lewis said as Maeve cleaned up the tears.
“What kind of reaction do you get when somone pulls up alongside of you and then sees that it’s, you know, Lewis Hamilton behind the wheel next to them?” Sean questioned.
“Most people are just like ‘Holy Shit!’ um. . .” Lewis chuckled.
“They’re not revving their engine at you or anything?”
“I’ve had people, yeah traffic light that wanna race yeah.” He nodded. “Definitely when I was young, I felt like yeah. . . smoke this fool.” He laughed.
“This man wanted to race you yesterday!” Maeve spoke up. “Mum said no.”
“I got kids now!” Lewis laughed once again. “I got precious cargo, I can’t be fooling around.”
“And mum said no.” Maeve whispered to him.
“Yup, and mum said no.”
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pinkflower2003 · 14 hours
Text
A NEW GOOD LUCK CHARM
FERNANDO ALONSO SMAU PT.1
Fernando Alonso x Russel!Reader
Send your requests/submissions🍓
Faceclaim: Perrie Edwards & her son
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Liked by YNRussell, LewisHamilton, AlexAlbon & 698,476 others
GeorgeRussell: Birthday post for my sister, as she threatened if I didn’t she would run me over with my car, so happy birthday sis, as much as you scare me, you’re actually an alright sister🫶🏻
tagged: YNRussell
YNRussell: GEORGE? THE THIRD PICTURE?? do you have a death wish??
GeorgeRussell: ‘thanks George, I really appreciate it, can’t wait to see you again, love and miss you’ who raised you?? damn
YNRussell: yeah, u clearly do have a death wish. Where are my car keys?
GeorgeRussell: NO WAIT IM SORRY DON’T RUN ME OVER
AlexAlbon: Happy Birthday sister from another mister, missing you!!
YNRussell: ALEX MY BABY, my favourite sibling, tell Lily you both have to come over soon, Axel misses you!!
Lilymhe: Axel misses me? i’m omw right now, dropping everything 🏃‍♀️
GeorgeRussell: um hello?? i’m his ACTUAL uncle, does he miss me too?
YNRussell: not since you decided he was mater and you were lightening mcqueen, no.
LandoNorris: that’s low George, real low. You took being lightening mcqueen away from a child??
GeorgeRussell: HES 2? I didn’t think he’d tell the difference😔
LandoNorris: they always know.
Username1: George has a sister? is this common knowledge or am I late to the party?
username2: it’s not overly common knowledge I suppose, she likes to keep private a lot due to being a single mum. She likes to keep her son out of the spotlight a lot, though she has been going to watch George race a bit more regularly, so hopefully we’ll see more of her!
Username1: she’s a single mum? she does not look old enough to have a child omg
Username3: I love that Axel has so many uncles throughout F1😭
FernandoAlonso: Feliz cumpleaños, YN!
YNRussell liked this comment!
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━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
INTERVIEW WITH GEORGE RUSSELL
INTERVIEWER: So, George, we’ve seen you have a visitor on the paddock today. Your sister, YN and her son, your nephew, have come to watch you race.
GEORGE: Yeah, they have! I’m super close with my sister so having her here is always amazing, especially when she brings my nephew, it makes the race extra special for me.
INTERVIEWER: Does your nephew have a favourite driver? Or is that place reserved for you?
GEORGE: *laughs* no, i don’t think that place is for me, he’s not really interested in the fact I race. He’s pretty young still to understand who his favourite driver is yet but he always seems to clap when Alonso comes onto the screen so i’m going to take a wild guess and say its him!
INTERVIEWER: Will he have the chance to meet Alonso today, or will he be staying at the Mercedes garage?
GEORGE: Knowing my sister, she will be taking him wherever he wants to go, so it is most likely they will end up in the Aston Martin garage.
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
The sun was shining brightly as Y/N held Axel’s tiny hand, leading him through the bustling paddock. The air was electric with excitement, the roar of engines in the background making her son’s eyes widen with awe. Today was a special day. Uncle George was racing, and Y/N had promised Axel that they would watch him together. But Axel had other ideas.
“Mama, see Nando?” Axel asked, his big blue eyes sparkling with hope.
Y/N smiled down at her son, her heart melting at his innocence. “We’ll see, darling. Fernando is very busy getting ready for the race, just like Uncle George. But we’ll try, okay?”
Axel nodded enthusiastically, his little feet practically skipping as they made their way to the Aston Martin garage. Y/N’s heart raced a little faster too. Fernando Alonso was a legend, and even she felt a bit starstruck at the thought of possibly meeting him.
They approached the garage, the vibrant green and black of the Aston Martin team standing out against the sea of colors in the paddock. Y/N spoke to a friendly team member, explaining Axel’s wish and who she had come to the race with.
“We can’t promise anything, but let’s see what we can do,” the team member said with a kind smile.
As they waited, Axel’s excitement was palpable. He clutched his miniature Alonso cap tightly, his eyes darting around in hopes of catching a glimpse of his hero. Y/N knelt down beside him, brushing a stray curl from his forehead.
“Remember, Axel, even if we don’t get to meet him, we’re going to have a great time watching uncle George and uncle Alex race,” she reminded him gently.
But luck seemed to be on their side today. After a few moments, Fernando Alonso himself walked over, a broad smile on his face. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Here he was, the man she’d watched on TV for years, now standing right in front of them.
“Hello there, little man,” Fernando said, his voice warm and friendly as he crouched down to Axel’s level. “I hear you’re a big fan.”
Axel’s eyes widened in pure delight, “Nando, I’m Axel!”
“Nice to meet you, Axel,” Fernando replied, shaking his tiny hand. Then he looked up at Y/N, his eyes twinkling. “And you must be George’s sister, YN, i’m Fernando, i’ve heard a lot about you from everyone.”
“Y-yes, I’m Y/N,” she stammered, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. “Thank you so much for taking the time to meet us.”
Fernando smiled warmly. “It’s my pleasure. Would you like to see the car up close, Axel?”
Axel’s face lit up with excitement, and Fernando led them to the car. Y/N watched, her heart swelling with gratitude and admiration, as Fernando lifted Axel and carefully placed him in the cockpit. Axel’s giggles of delight were like music to her ears.
As Axel explored the buttons and steering wheel with wide-eyed wonder, Fernando turned to Y/N. “He’s a great kid. You must be very proud.”
“I am,” she said softly, watching her son with love. “This means the world to him. And to me.”
Y/N couldn’t believe how lovely and down-to-earth Fernando was. She found herself completely starstruck, not just by his talent but by his kindness. Y/N had met many racers through her years of watching her brother race, but today was the first time meeting Fernando, and he was so unlike the rest.
After a few minutes, Fernando gently lifted Axel out of the car and handed him back to Y/N. “Good luck charm,” he said with a wink. “I’ll race even faster today knowing Axel is cheering me on. And maybe i’ll win if i have the luck of getting your number?” He said, as Y/N laughed at the cheesiness of his pickup line.
“Do you use that with every woman that comes into the garage?” YN joked, not thinking he was serious, but from the look on his face, she could tell he wasn’t making a joke of her. “Never,” he smiled slightly, as Y/N swallowed.
Y/N hadn’t dated since becoming pregnant with her son, and she hadn’t thought she would date again. Raising a child was hard, and it was harder when there were other people involved, so she hadn’t gone on dates, given her number out, she had focused on Axel.
“You want my number?” y/n asked, dumbfounded, not quite understanding what she was hearing. Fernando gave a chuckle at the look on your face.
“Of course, who wouldn’t from a beautiful woman like yourself?”
YN became flustered as she struggled to get her phone out of her back pocket, not fully understanding how she had gone from visiting her son’s favourite driver to him asking her for her number.
Exchanging numbers, Axel stayed by Fernando’s side practically holding onto the drivers leg for dear life. Y/N apologised, reaching to grab her son and place him on her hip, but Fernando waved her off, reaching for Axel instead, giving him a hug goodbye before he went off to race.
“What do you say if I do well today, I take you and your mummy out for food sometime?” Fernando asked Axel, looking at Y/N out of the corner of his eye. Axel’s mouth fell open, he was young, but he knew that Fernando meant spending more time together, and for that he gave a squeal, wanting to spend more time with ‘Nando.
“I guess you’ll have to do well today then,” Y/N smiled, as Fernando smiled back at her.
“I guess I will.”
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
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Liked by YNRussell, F1, LanceStroll & 979,567 others
FernandoAlonso: Good ending to the race and a few new visitors to the garage, thank you to my new good luck charms who came and saw me today!
view all comments
YNRussell: Thank you for having us, you made Axel’s day! Can’t wait to come and see you race again soon!
FernandoAlonso: bring him back to the next race, I need my good luck charms around
GeorgeRussell: Axel, you traitor. But also, WHAT IS HAPPENING?? This is where @/YN was the whole race?
Username5: George is all of us rn
LandoNorris: He’s still got it with the ladies, smooth Nando
AlexAlbon: King Axel👑
Username6: are they dating?? what is happening?
Username7: isn’t he a bit old for her?
Username8: she’s literally 29 with a child, i’m pretty sure she’s capable of making her own decisions
Username9: NEW F1 COUPLE??
319 notes · View notes
xxspringmelodyxx · 3 days
Text
When They’re Needy~
Feat: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Fingering, squirting, overstimulation, oral (female and male receiving), spanking, edging, bondage
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Satoru Gojo
”S’toru~ Y-You’re going too fast~” I moaned out as he thrust his fingers in and out of me at such a quick pace.
“You look so good sitting on my lap, princess. Look at your pretty pussy just taking my fingers in so well~” He cooed into my ear.
His thumb moved up to rub against my already sensitive clit, making my back arch into him.
One of my hands wrapped around his wrist, trying desperately to get him to slow down just a bit.
“P-Please, Toru~”
I begged, trying to move away from his fingers as the pleasure I was feeling was overwhelming. But his hand just followed me, going quicker.
”’Toru~ Please. It’s too much.” I whined, feeling the blood rush all throughout my body.
His free hand trailed up my body to the nape of my neck. He then proceeded to grab a fistful of my hair, pulling my head back. He forced me to sit back down on his lap so that he could get his fingers deeper inside of me, curling them and rubbing just the right spots so that I was seeing stars.
”Toru!” I moaned out loud.
He planted numerous kisses on my neck, making sure to suck and bite at any spot he touched.
“Fuck, you’re so invigorating” he moaned
“I love you so much. I love you, I love you, I love you!” He spoke in your neck, speeding up the pace of his fingers.
“Toru…I’m…im-“
“Yeah? You wanna cum for me baby? You’re gonna be a good girl for me?” He asked, licking up your neck to your mouth, planting his lips on yours in a messy kiss.
“Mmmm, yes Toru~”
His fingers hit a spot inside of you that made you claw at his back, making him hiss in both pain and pleasure.
“Cum baby….cum~” he spoke, forcing his tongue in your mouth.
And within a few seconds, the coil within you snapped. You came undone all over his fingers, squirting on his lap and the bed.
You both moaned into each other's mouths, feeling like you both were flying.
After you came down from your high, you both pulled away, leaving only a string of saliva connecting between the two of you.
Toru stared at your blissed out face, getting more and more turned on.
“You are so beautiful, baby~”
He spoke, kissing your teary eyes.
“So, so beautiful~ he said, holding you close to him.
He slowly removed his soaked fingers, placing them in his mouth.
He hummed in ecstasy, loving the taste you left for him.
“You taste so good, baby~” He whispered in your ear, making your hips involuntarily buck.
”Toru~” You whined, placing your hands on the sides of his face, pulling him close to you.
”I need you so bad. I need you inside of me. Please~” You whined, your pussy aching for something more.
Toru’s eyes darkened as you spoke those dangerous words.
”Are…are you sure, y/n?” He asked, hoping you were.
You nodded your head, needy for him.
“yes, Toru~ Please~ I need you so bad~” You moaned in his ear.
He quickly pushed you down onto the bed, pining you between his arms.
”Be prepared, my love. We won’t be getting much sleep tonight~”
*******
Suguru Geto
“Suguuuu~” You moaned out loud, trying to push his head away from your dripping pussy.
”Just a bit more, my love. Come on, you can take it. I need this. Please~” He moaned on your clit, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
You’ve lost count at how many times you’ve come on his face. Four times? Six times? Maybe eight? You didn’t know. All you knew was that you were so close to passing out from the constant, nonstop pleasure that he was giving you. His arms wrapped tightly around your thighs, making sure you aren’t able to move. Your hands on the headboard, the only thing keeping you grounded. His tongue…of fuck his tongue.
He was a master at this. Every movement was a fluid and perfect motion that always kept you on edge.
He would go inside then outside, tongue fucking you for a little bit, mostly to just get more of your sweet nectar out. Then when he wanted to hear you moan and cry out his name, he would move it to your overstimulated clit, rapidly flicking his tongue back and forth, pressing down on it to give you the maximum amount of pleasure you could possibly receive.
”Suguru~ Suguru~Suguru~” was all you could moan out. You were drunk from the pleasure and all that was on your mind was him. His masculine smell, his beautiful voice, his handsome face, everything about him. It was running through your mind like crazy.
He would give you a little spank every now and then when you would try to pull up from him, forcing you to sit back down on his face.
“Bad girl. Now sit still and take it~” He spoke, sticking his tongue into your tight hole. He began to move his face up and down at the same time, allowing his nose to rub against your clit, causing you to tighten around his tongue.
You ran one of your hands through his hair, accepting your fate and just enjoying it.
“Suguuu, your mouth feels so good~” You moaned loudly. You tugged at his hair strands, emitting a moan from him as well, sending vibrations through your body once again.
“I…I feel it again. I’m gonna cum again, Sugu.”
He smirked as he removed his tongue and placed it flat on your clit, slowly going up and down.
”Fuck. Don’t slow down! Please! Not when I’m so close…” You begged
”Mmmm? I thought you said you couldn’t do this anymore?” He teased.
”Suguru, don’t tease me! I can take it. I know I can. Now please just make me cum. I’m begging you. Don’t stop now~” You whined
Ah, Music to his ears. Hearing his sweet, innocent girl begging him for more.
”As you wish, my dear~”
He quickly got back to work and ran his tongue across your clit, going at a rapid pace this time.
It only took a matter of seconds before you finally released all over his face, covering his mouth with your sweet essence.
“Oh, my love, you taste absolutely divine~”
He spoke, removing his mouth from your slick and glistening pussy. He let you catch your breath, looking up at the sight of you, feeling his poor cock twitch in agony. It needed attention, and it needed it now.
“How about we move on to the next round, my dear?” He asked, picking you up off of his face.
“Next round??” You said with shock as he flipped you both around so that your back was on the bed, while he pinned you underneath him.
“You didn’t think it was over after that last one, did you?” He asked, caressing your face with such love and care.
He planted a single kiss on your lips before aligning himself with you.
”Just a couple more should do it.” He spoke
******
Kento Nanami
I laid over Kento’s lap as he spanked me.
”Such a bad girl, teasing me all day when you know I was busy with work.” He spoke, giving you another spank.
”Ngh, I’m sorry Ken~ I-I was just trying to tease you!” You spoke, feeling your pussy drip from him.
”All day, all I could think about was just stuffing you full with my cock. Seeing you writhe underneath me as you struggled to take it in. Seeing your eyes tear up from all the pleasure I’m giving you. Fuck, I’m glad I didn’t have any meetings to go to.” He spoke, using his other hand to wrap around your throat, giving it a soft squeeze as he held you up horizontally to see your face.
”Now look at you. Getting punished just because you couldn’t wait.” He said
He slowly moved his fingers from your ass cheek right to where your cute, dripping pussy is.
“She’s just begging to have something inside of her isn’t she?” He spoke, moving his fingers down to your clit, giving it a little pinch.
”Kento~” You moaned.
He removed his hand from your clit and spanked you again, making you moan out in both pain and pleasure.
”You’re not allowed to make one noise. If you do, you won't get to cum.” He ordered, making you nod and bite your lips so you don’t make a noise.
He then went back to your pussy and quickly inserted two fingers, stretching you out and curling his fingers.
You clenched your fists, trying so hard not to make a noise.
But Kento wasn’t just going to let you go so easy. He wanted you to actually work for your climax. After all, you were the bad girl.
He didn’t waste any time and got to work with his fingers. His thumb violently rubbing at your clit, his fingers working their magic inside your cunt.
He was going at a speed you couldn’t even comprehend. All you knew was that the pleasure was too much. Tears were already starting to form in your eyes, and that familiar knot was beginning to form in your lower stomach, dangerously close to releasing just like that.
You bit your lips hard to try and stifle any noise coming from you. But ultimately, you fail as he sticks a third finger in, causing a slight moan and shiver to come out of your mouth.
Within half a second, Kento stops what he’s doing, causing your climax to slowly disappear.
”Kento!” You whined, trying to hold onto that pleasurable feeling.
He then removed his fingers and gave you another spank.
”No noise! I gave you an order, and yet you disobeyed it. Now, you don’t get to cum. Let’s try again, shall we?” He asked, pumping his fingers right back inside of you. He wasn’t slow with it either. No, in fact it was quite the opposite. The sound of your pussy mixing with his fingers gave out the most lewdest of sounds. It was so hot, especially with him acting so dominant. All of it was so enough to get you close again. Unfortunately, this time, he pinched your clit, making you release yet another noise, causing him to stop.
“Oh, my sweet, disobedient girl. Tonight I am going to make sure you regret teasing me all day. Now, where were we~” He spoke, going back to working on your dripping wet pussy.
*****
Choso Kamo
“Oh fuck, Y/n~ Your mouth feels so good.” Choso moaned out loud. The feeling of your tongue swirling round his sensitive cock was something new to him, but he definitely loved it. The way your cheeks hollow out just a bit as you suck him off, making sure to give him as much pleasure as he can take.
“Yeah~ You like this, Choso? The way my tongue starts down at the base…” You start, licking around the lower area of his dick, slowly licking up. You traced his vein popping out, going over it several times, seeing him twitch.
”Mmm. Y-yes, it feels…really good~” He said, trying to keep his composure.
You smirked, wrapping your other hand around him, rubbing up and down as you licked your way to his tip.
”And what about this?” You asked, looking up at him with innocent looking eyes as you run your tongue back and forth along his tip. His head falls back as he feels your tongue on his most sensitive area.
You then place your mouth over his tip, swirling your tongue around it again. You begin to pump your fist up and down, slowly speeding up.
”’s so good. You…you feel so nice around my c-cock.” He whined, his hand wrapping itself up in your hair. He began to tug at your strands, trying not to push you down and let you go at your own pace.
”You’ve been so needy lately, Cho~It’s only right that your loving girl helps fix that for you.” You spoke, sucking him harder.
No matter what, you wanted him to cum in your mouth. He deserves it after all. He’s such a good boy, such a sweet boy just for you.
”I want you to use me, Cho~ I want to make you feel good. I want to make you cum for me~” You spoke, eliciting such beautiful noises from his mouth.
”Don’t be afraid, baby. It’s okay.” You spoke, feeling his hand hesitate from pushing you down. You quickly took your mouth off of him, giving his tip a quick little kiss before going back to wrapping your mouth around him.
He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He needed you, and he needed you badly. He pushed your head down to the base of his shaft, causing you to gag a bit on his cock. Tears began to fall down your eyes from the sudden change, but you didn’t care. You looked up at your love and saw how blissed out he was…all from you. You closed your eyes, breathing in and out through your nose as he pumped your head up and down faster. You knew he was close, so fucking close to letting it all go.
“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!” He moaned out loud, his eyes closing as they rolled to the back of his head.
Within seconds, he couldn’t hold it back anymore and released his seed inside of your mouth.
You took it all in, trying not to let anything drop. You looked up at him, swallowing all of it, making sure he could see it going down your throat. He gulped a bit, his eyes going dark as they filled with pure lust for you. You looked so hot doing that. And he wanted more. He wanted as much as he could take.
“My turn~” He spoke, pushing you down
*****
Toji Fushiguro
“Toji!” You moaned, your chest arching into him as he slammed his cock into you.
You tried to break free of the ties he had around your wrists, desperate to hold onto him, but they didn’t budge one bit.
“Awe, is my poor baby trying to escape?” He teased as his other hand went down to you rub your swollen clit. You yelled out in pleasure, feeling tingles run up your entire body.
“P-Please Toji~ Please take these off so I can hold onto you!” You begged, but he wouldn’t listen. As much as he would love to feel your soft hands on him, scratching at his back, he much rather preferred you in this position. Lying on your bed faced up, your arms tied behind your back, and your beautiful face portraying a look of pure ecstasy. Fuck it was enough to make him cum right on the spot, but he managed to keep his self control, waiting until you came around him.
He could feel your tight, gummy walls taking him in so well, squeezing hard whenever he would reach that spot that made your eyes roll back.
“So warm…so wet…so perfect~” He groaned out, thrusting his hips in and out of you at a faster pace. He placed his other hand around your neck, giving it a little squeeze, making you slowly lose your senses. It felt so good. Too good.
”T-Toji~” You moaned out once more, incapable of saying anything else but his name. Just how he ilked it. He leaned down and placed his lips on yours, barely giving you time to react. He pushed his tongue in, play fighting with yours.
Just as he did that, he could feel your pussy clench around him, signaling to him that you were on the brink of your climax. It made him hiss a bit from the pleasure, loving the way your walls felt around him.
”Fuck…I can feel you tighten around me~ You’re so close, aren’t you baby?” He said, grabbing a hold of your hips.
“Then why don’t I speed the process up a bit, huh?” He asked, quickly taking your hips and moving you against him. He wasn’t gentle either. In fact, he was the opposite. He was moving you on his dick at such an speed you didn’t think would be possible.
All you could muster out was whines, moanes, and his name. You were so drunk off of him, and he knew it.
“You love it when I just do what I want with your sweet pussy, huh? You like the way my cock feels inside? The way it twitches inside of you, just begging to release.” He spoke in your ear, giving the outer shell little licks and nibbles as he continued to say such dirty things.
“Yes, Toji~ Yes, yes, yes! I love it so much! I love you so much~” You cried out, desperate to cum.
He smirked hearing those lovely words and noises coming out of your mouth.
“Cum for me, baby. Cum for me now.” he spoke, moving one of his hands back down to your clit, rubbing it with such speed.
Your back arched once more as you felt a rush of warmth spread throughout your body.
”Tojiiii~” You yelled out as you felt your climax hit.
The rush of it all sent ringing to your ears as your body began to shake.
“There you go baby girl, that’s it. Keep going.” He spoke as he let you ride out your orgasm.
A few more seconds passed by and you slowly came back down, feeling your body slowly become tired. Toji leaned down and kissed your lips, smiling a bit into the kiss as he felt your lips tremble.
”You did so good for me, Y/n~ So good~” He whispered, making your heart flutter and your pussy tighten around him once more. He chuckled.
”You like when I praise you? do you, baby?” He asked, making your face heat up.
”Well I guess Ill just have to find out the next round~” He said, pushing himself back up.
“Next round?” You asked, shocked that he would go yet another round.
”Yes…unless, you don’t think you can take it.” He teased, making your brows furrow together.
”I was just worried that an old man like you wouldn’t handle it.” You teased back, making him smirk.
”Oh really? Well then, lets see who gives up first. And trust me, baby, it won’t be me~” He spoke.
Oh boy
******
342 notes · View notes
thef1diary · 3 days
Text
While It Lasts | L. Norris - 2
Summary: Lando expected nothing more than relaxation and fun for two weeks during his summer break. What he didn’t anticipate was meeting you, someone who felt like a perfect match in every way. As the days quickly passed, he found himself falling deeply for you, only to be confronted with the heart-wrenching reality that your time together was far more limited than he ever imagined.
Part 1
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PLEASE READ: This story contains themes of loss, morality, fear, death, relationship strains, mental health struggles, including significant emotional impact related to the reader’s journey with a chronic illness and some scenes are set in hospitals. Reminder that this is simply a work of fiction, please don’t take it to heart.
wc: 16.5k
© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.
You woke up to the faint clattering of dishes in the kitchen. Groggily, you opened your eyes, feeling the stiffness from sleeping awkwardly on the couch. Stretching, you realized Isaac was already up, making breakfast. 
“Isaac,” you called out, your voice hoarse from sleep. 
He didn’t seem to hear you, the noise of the kitchen drowning out your voice. With a sigh, you decided to hobble over to him, each step a reminder of your twisted ankle and the awkward position you’d slept in.
Reaching the kitchen, you leaned against the doorway for support. “Isaac,” you said a bit louder.
He turned, surprise and concern crossing his face. “You should be resting.”
“I know,” you replied, wincing slightly as you moved closer. “But we need to talk.”
Isaac set down the pan he was holding, his expression turning serious. “Alright, let’s talk.”
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the words you were about to say. “Isaac, I’m sorry for yelling at you yesterday. I know you’re just trying to take care of me.”
He shook his head, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and pain. “Every single day for the past four years, I have this fear that you’ll leave me at any moment. Yes, it is selfish, very selfish because I truly don’t know what you’re feeling, what you’re going through. But while you might’ve accepted that you’re dying, I didn’t! I just wanted to make sure you’re taking care of yourself, so you can live another day, so you can see me graduate college, see me – I don’t know – find the love of my life or get married. I’m sorry. You’re my sister, you are the last person I need to act like I’m on eggshells around you.”
Your heart ached at his words, the depth of his fear and love hitting you hard. “Your fear is valid, Isaac. Just because I’ve accepted it, doesn’t mean that I like it. But it won’t change fate, will it? It won’t change the fact that I’ve been dealt a shitty hand at life. All I know is that when I’m taking my last breaths, whenever it is, I don’t want to regret anything. I don’t want to regret not living enough because of the fear of dying. Just because I have a stupid countdown doesn’t mean I should be afraid to live.”
Isaac looked at you, his eyes moist with unshed tears. “I just want you to be here, to live as long as possible.”
“I know,” you whispered, reaching out to engulf him in a hug. “I’ll try to take better care of myself.” 
He nodded slowly, his grip tightening around your body. “And I’ll try to be less overprotective, I promise, I’ll try.”
You smiled, a tear slipping down your cheek. “Thank you, Isaac.”
As you stood there, holding onto each other in the quiet morning light, you felt a sense of peace. When he pulled back, he scrunched up his face. “But it’ll be harder to explain that to mum and dad.” 
You shrugged, “they’ll get it, one day, hopefully.” 
After breakfast, Isaac announced he needed to run some errands in town. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”
You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine. Take your time.”
As the door closed behind him, the house fell into a quiet lull. You settled back on the couch, trying to get comfortable and rest your ankle. Just as you were starting to drift off, the doorbell rang.
With a sigh, you swung your legs off the couch and hobbled toward the door, wincing with each step. When you finally reached it and pulled it open, you were greeted by Lando’s mischievous grin that quickly turned into worry.
“Hey,” he said, his brow furrowed as he took in your hobbling form. “You shouldn’t be up and about. How’s the ankle?”
“Hey, Lando,” you replied, leaning against the doorframe for support. “It’s sore but I’ll survive. Come in.”
He stepped inside, immediately reaching out to steady you. “Here, let me help you back to the couch.”
You nodded, grateful for his support. You leaned against him and held his hand as he guided you back to your spot on the couch. You couldn’t help but notice the warmth of his touch and the genuine concern in his eyes. 
“Thanks,” you said once you were settled again. “What brings you here?”
Lando shrugged, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “I wanted to check on you. Make sure you’re not getting into any more trouble.”
You chuckled softly. “Well, I did manage to twist my ankle pretty badly.”
His expression turned serious. “I know. I felt terrible leaving you like that last night.”
“It’s alright, I was already sleeping before you left,” you waved off his concern. 
“Speaking of falling asleep…” Lando began, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I couldn’t resist stopping by the bookstore you mentioned. Figured I’d pick up a couple of books to keep us entertained.”
You grinned, appreciating his thoughtfulness. “You went to the bookstore? You really are determined to explore every corner of this town, aren’t you?”
Lando nodded enthusiastically, pulling the books out of the bag he carried when he entered. “Of course! And since my favorite tour guide is out of commission,” he said, gesturing to your injured ankle, “I had to take matters into my own hands.”
He revealed two identical books, holding them up with a grin. “Thought we could have a reading competition. Winner gets bragging rights.”
You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. “It’s always a competition with you, isn’t it?”
Lando shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What can I say? I’m a competitive guy. Comes with the territory. Oh, and by the way,” he added casually, “did I mention I’m a Formula 1 driver?”
You blinked, surprised by the revelation. “Wait, seriously?”
Lando grinned, “yeah, been racing for quite a few years now.” 
You nodded, a smile spreading on your face when he delved into the details, and it’s evident that he loves talking about his passion. 
“That actually makes so much sense, that’s how you know the Sainz family, right?” 
Lando’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Yes, but how do you know them?”
You laughed softly, and it quickly became a sound Lando loved hearing. “I live next to the villa, remember?” You teased jokingly. 
A sheepish smile grew on his face, “oh, right. So what, you’ve met Carlos too? And here I thought I was the first F1 driver you’ve met.” 
You nodded. “Yeah, in passing. We never really talked much, but I’ve seen him and his family around often.”
Then you leaned closer and whispered, “but don’t tell him that he may no longer be my favourite.” 
He quirked up an eyebrow, leaning in as well and responding with the same amount of energy. “Then who is?” 
You shrugged, leaning back with a small smile and a faint blush covering your cheeks. “I think I might have to watch a race to decide.” 
As you continued chatting with Lando, the pain in your ankle seemed to fade into the background. His enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself drawn into his stories about racing, the thrill of waiting for the lights to go out, and the camaraderie between his fellow drivers. 
Eventually, you decided to start the reading competition. Both of you settled into the couch with your respective books, determined to see who would finish first. But as the minutes ticked by, Lando found it hard to focus on his book. His gaze kept drifting to you, watching the way your eyes moved across the pages and the little expressions that flitted across your face as you read.
He couldn’t help but want to talk to you, to hear more about your thoughts. Finally, he put his book down with a sigh, unable to concentrate any longer.
“So, what’s next on the agenda once your ankle’s better? Something less adventurous, perhaps?”
You placed your book down after marking your page, chuckling as you looked at him. “Can’t focus, can you?” 
“Not with you around,” he shrugged casually. 
Trapping your lip between your teeth to prevent a smile from growing on your face, you chose to focus on the question he asked. 
“There’s this amazing seafood restaurant nearby. It’s a local favorite, and the food is incredible. Fresh catches of the day, and the chef’s specials are to die for. You’ll love it!”
As you spoke, you didn’t notice Lando’s face pale slightly. He wasn’t a fan of seafood, but he couldn’t bring himself to dampen your excitement by telling you the truth. The way your eyes lit up talking about the place made him want to experience it with you, even if he never wanted to be around any sort of fish. 
“Sounds great,” Lando said, forcing a smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”
You clapped your hands together, beaming. “You won’t regret it, I promise. The view from the restaurant is amazing too. It’s right by the water, and you can see the boats coming in and out of the harbor. It’s a perfect spot for a relaxing evening.”
Lando nodded, matching your enthusiasm as best he could. “That sounds perfect. I can’t wait.”
“How about we go there for dinner tomorrow?” you suggested, your excitement bubbling over.
“Tomorrow night it is,” Lando agreed, his smile genuine due to your smile despite his seafood reservations. 
The next evening came around too quickly for Lando’s liking. Instead of stressing over what to wear this time, he was worried about the food itself. The prospect of seafood was daunting, but he didn’t want to let you down. As he rummaged through his closet, Max walked into the room with a teasing grin.
“Mate, you like her so much that you’d willingly eat seafood for her?” Max said, leaning against the doorframe.
Lando looked up, a mixture of nerves and amusement on his face. “Yeah, well, it’s not just about the food. It’s about the company.”
He chuckled, “you’re a brave man.” Then he sighed exaggeratedly, “oh the things you do in love.” 
Lando’s back straightened suddenly. “It’s not love… yet. We’re just hanging out.” 
Max’s eyes widened since he didn’t expect such an answer, “wait a second, ‘yet’? Do you actually like her?”
Lando shrugged, trying to play it off, but the slight smile on his face betrayed him. “I don’t know, Max. Maybe. It’s… complicated.”
Max studied him for a moment, then a grin spread across his face. “I should’ve seen it coming, but she’s great! Maybe even a little out of your league,” he spoke with a teasing grin, that only made Lando roll his eyes when he saw his best friend’s face. 
“She’s beautiful,” he said softly, not denying Max’s words.
Max's teasing grin softened into a more serious expression. "Hey, I'm serious though. You don't have to go through with this if you're not comfortable. You shouldn't feel like you have to force yourself to like something just to impress her."
Lando appreciated Max's concern, but he shook his head. "It's not about impressing her. I want to spend time with her, Max. She's... she's different."
Max raised an eyebrow, a knowing look in his eyes. "Different, huh? Well, just be careful, okay?"
Lando nodded, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty and anticipation. "Of course."
As Max left the room, Lando took a moment to collect his thoughts. He knew Max was just looking out for him, but there was something about you that made him want to take the risk. With a determined smile, he finished getting ready and was about to head out to meet you, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement building inside him.
Right as he was leaving the villa, Max’s voice rang out. “If you need an excuse to skip out, I can come up with something. No need to torture yourself over fish.”
Lando shook his head, appreciating the concern. “Thanks, Max, but I’ll be fine. I just… I don’t want to ruin this. She’s really excited about the place.”
A very short drive later, Lando knocked on your door, and when you opened it, his eyes widened appreciatively as they swept over you. You wore a simple yet elegant dress, the color complementing your features perfectly.
“Wow,” he breathed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You look amazing.”
Blushing slightly at his compliment, you thanked him and closed the door behind you as you left your cottage, walking towards Lando’s car. “Thanks, Lando, you don’t look too bad yourself.”
He fell in step beside you, still admiring your outfit. “So, do you have a hot date or something?”
You chuckled at his question, shaking your head. “Nope, no dates, just going out with some racer guy, not sure if you know him.” 
Sitting in his car, he instantly looked at you with a raised eyebrow and a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “Hmm, sounds like a great guy! Is he interesting?” 
You laughed, nudging him as he drove. “Very.” 
When you arrived at the restaurant, the sun was just starting to set, casting a golden glow over the water. It was nestled right by the harbor, with a perfect view of the boats coming and going. Lando parked the car and helped you out, his hand lingering a moment longer than necessary as he offered support for your still-healing ankle. Even though you could walk without needing support again, you didn’t mind holding onto his hand. 
“Wow, this place is beautiful,” he said, genuinely impressed by the picturesque setting.
“I told you,” you replied with a satisfied smile. “Come on, let’s get a table by the window.”
The interior of the restaurant was cozy, with soft lighting and a gentle murmur of conversation filling the air. A small fish tank adorned one corner of the room, the colorful fish swimming lazily in the water. Lando couldn’t help but chuckle nervously as he glanced at the tank.
“Kinda cruel, isn’t it?” he joked, nodding towards the fish tank. "Having live fish in a seafood restaurant," Lando remarked with a wry smile. 
Still, you laughed, nodding in agreement. "The owners think it adds to the ambiance."
As you were seated and handed the menus, Lando took a deep breath, steeling himself for the seafood-heavy options. But when he looked across the table and saw your excited expression, he hoped it would all be worth it. This evening was about enjoying your company, and he was determined to do just that, and perhaps if everything went very well, he might casually mention that he’d like to take you out on an actual date. 
As the waiter took your orders, you couldn't contain your excitement, eager to indulge in the fresh seafood the restaurant had to offer. Lando, however, seemed a bit hesitant, but he eventually settled on a dish, trying to mask his apprehension with a smile.
Once the food arrived, you dug in eagerly, savoring each bite of the delicious seafood. However, as you glanced over at Lando, you noticed something was off. His attempts to conceal his discomfort were evident, and you could see the struggle on his face as he hesitantly bit into a shrimp, his expression revealing disgust as he tried to swallow it. 
Concerned, you leaned closer to him, your voice soft with worry. "Is everything okay, Lando?"
He hesitated, clearly torn, spitting the piece of shrimp into a tissue before finally admitting, "I'm sorry, I just... I can't do seafood."
Surprised by his confession, you felt a pang of guilt wash over you. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
Lando shrugged, looking sheepish. "I didn't want to ruin your plans, you looked so excited to come here and I thought I could handle it, but..."
Without hesitation, you reached out, taking his hand in yours. "Come on, let's get out of here."
Leading him out of the restaurant, you felt a mix of disappointment and concern. Disappointed that he didn’t feel comfortable sharing such a simple detail with you, and concerned that he attempted to eat a shrimp, knowing he disliked it, all for your sake.
But as you walked together, you were determined to salvage the evening because you didn’t want the night to end just yet. "How about we find a burger place? Is that something you'll enjoy."
Lando's gratitude was evident in his smile as he nodded, and together, you set off to find a new spot to continue your evening, determined to make it memorable for all the right reasons.
You and Lando ended up sitting in his car, munching on takeout burgers and fries, the mood was light and laughter filled the air. Lando was in the middle of telling a funny story from his racing season, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he recounted the antics of how multiple of his fellow drivers tried to convince him to try seafood but failed. 
You couldn’t help but laugh along, enjoying the animated way he described each moment. You playfully nudged Lando, a grin spreading across your face. “Well, it seems like all those F1 drivers couldn’t get you to try seafood, but I did, even if it was just a bite!”
Lando leaned back in his seat, a lighthearted smile playing on his lips. “You know, for you, I’d try anything… except seafood.”
As you heard Lando's words, a soft realization came to you that his remark held a hint of flirtation.
“Why don’t you like seafood anyways?” you couldn’t help but ask, especially since this town was full of loads of seafood options and now you had to think of other restaurants for him to try. 
Lando shrugged, taking another bite of his burger before answering. “I guess it’s just not my thing. I’ve never been a fan of the taste or the texture.”
As you indulged in your burger, a smear of sauce found its way to the corner of your lips. Lando's eyes caught the small detail, and with a gentle smile, he pointed it out. "You've got a little something right there."
You chuckled, raising your hand to wipe it away, but before you could, Lando's fingers grazed over the corner of your lips, wiping away the sauce. His touch was gentle, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary as he leaned in close.
A subtle warmth spread through you at the intimacy of the gesture, and for a moment, time seemed to slow as you met his gaze. There was something unspoken between you, a silent acknowledgment of the growing connection that seemed to deepen with each passing moment.
His fingers lingered at the edge of your lips, and you could feel his breath, warm and inviting, mingling with yours. The world around you faded, leaving only the two of you in that fleeting instant.
“Lando…” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. The space between you grew smaller, your faces inching closer together.
He tilted his head slightly, his eyes flicking down to your lips and back up to your eyes. The anticipation was electric, a charged moment that seemed to stretch on forever.
But then, he pulled back, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. “I don’t want our first kiss to be like this,” he murmured, his voice soft but resolute. “You deserve a proper date first.”
A mix of disappointment and warmth washed over you. His thoughtfulness, his desire to make things right, only made your heart ache more with affection. Amidst the laughter and shared stories, his words hung between you, a promise of something more.
As quickly as the thought arose, the weight of your illness pressed down on you, reminding you of life's fragility and the uncertainty of tomorrow. Your thoughts lingered on wondering if you even had a future in general. To entertain the idea of a future with him would only cause your heart to ache, knowing that you might not live to see those dreams come true. 
The thought of a future, a proper date, a real kiss—all of it seemed so painfully out of reach.
It was a bittersweet realization, knowing that even the simplest of dreams could be overshadowed by the reality of your condition. While he would return back to the fast paced world of racing, you would remain in this small town, wondering how many more dreams you would have to crush because fate decided to take away your life, inch by inch. 
Awkwardness filled the car on your end, your emotions shifting to cold and stoic, like they were before you met him. The warm connection you had felt only moments ago was replaced by a wall you erected to protect your heart. Lando noticed the change, his cheerful demeanor faltering as the silence grew heavy between you.
Soon enough, you both finished your burgers, and Lando started the car to drive you home. The ride was quiet, the earlier laughter and easy conversation now replaced by a tension that neither of you acknowledged. When he pulled up to your house, he turned off the engine and looked at you, a hint of concern in his eyes.
“Do you want me to walk you to the door?” he asked softly.
You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “No, it’s fine. Thanks for the evening, Lando.”
He watched as you climbed out of the car, a confused and worried expression on his face. As you walked to your door, you could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t look back. You shut the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment as a tear threatened to slip down your cheek.
Lando sat in his car, staring at the closed door, wondering what he had done wrong and why the evening had ended on such a somber note. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something important had changed, but he had no idea what it was or how to fix it.
— 
Over the next couple of days, you don’t acknowledge the thoughts that are bubbling up in your mind, instead choosing to tread carefully and immerse yourself in your daily routine. You’ve lived a lot more than you have over the past couple of months, and felt the joy that it brings. But now, you had to face the consequences causing you to distance yourself away from Lando before you got too attached to the happiness that came with being around him. Once you realized that you truly wanted to kiss him that night, everything changed. You had to take a preemptive measure, a self-imposed boundary designed to shield your heart from potential pain. 
Your health deteriorated significantly. Your energy waned, and simple tasks like walking around the house left you breathless and exhausted. Fortunately, you have a doctor’s appointment scheduled, a simple routine checkup. However, it coincided with plans you made with Lando. Determined to distance yourself from him, you don’t tell him about the change of plans. 
At the doctor’s appointment, you sit in the sterile examination room, the familiar scent of antiseptic mingling with nerves that coil in the pit of your stomach. These appointments, routine yet crucial, serve as a barometer of your ongoing battle against your illness.
As the doctor enters, his expression is professional yet compassionate, his eyes scanning through your medical history with a practiced ease. You recount the recent symptoms you’ve been experiencing, the fatigue that seems to seep into your bones, and the persistent ache that lingers despite treatment.
With a sympathetic nod, the doctor orders a series of tests, his urgency palpable as he reviews your file. The minutes stretch into an eternity as you wait for the results, each passing second filled with a silent plea for a glimmer of hope.
When the test results finally come back, the doctor’s demeanor shifts subtly, his tone measured yet grave. “I’m afraid the results are not as we had hoped,” he begins, his words heavy with significance.
Your heart sinks at the confirmation of your worst fears, the reality of your illness casting a shadow over your hopes for improvement. Despite your best efforts, it seems that the tide of your health is turning against you once again.
A sense of dread fills you as he explains that the illness has advanced more rapidly than expected. “We need to keep you overnight for observation,” he says gently. “Your vitals are unstable, and we need to adjust your treatment plan.” 
You nod, too emotionally tired to object, allowing a nurse to lead you to the hospital room, one that you became too familiar with over the past few years. You would spend yet another night under the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital, experience another round of tests and treatments, and take another uncertain step into the abyss of your illness.
You lie in the hospital bed, hooked up to various machines, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over you like a heavy blanket. The familiar beeps and hums of the medical equipment provide a disconcerting backdrop to your thoughts, each sound a reminder of the precariousness of your health.
As you drift in and out of consciousness, your mind wanders to Lando, the plans you had made together now nothing more than distant dreams. Guilt gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, knowing that he waits for you, unaware of the sudden turn your day has taken.
Just as the shadows of doubt threaten to overwhelm you, a soft knock on the door interrupts your thoughts. Startled, you turn to see Isaac's familiar face framed in the doorway, concern etched into his features.
"Hey," he says softly, crossing the room to sit beside you. "I got your text. Are you okay?"
You manage a weak smile, grateful for his presence amidst the sterile confines of the hospital room. "Yeah, just another setback," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.
Isaac reaches out to squeeze your hand gently, his touch a comforting anchor in the sea of uncertainty. "You’ll get through this," he says, his voice steady and reassuring.
As Isaac settles into the chair beside your hospital bed, he observes the flurry of activity around you—the nurses bustling about, the doctors conferring in hushed tones, tweaking the machines, their purpose still a mystery to him after all these visits.
When there's a lull in the commotion, Isaac hesitates before speaking, his voice soft with concern. "Hey, I wanted to let you know... Lando stopped by the cottage today."
“What’d he say?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. 
"He asked about you today," Isaac begins, his tone gentle. "Said you had plans but you didn't show. He mentioned he hasn't seen you in a couple of days. Is everything okay between you two?"
You nod weakly, offering a small smile to reassure Isaac. "Yeah, everything's fine. I just... I don't know, I guess I realized that I've been enjoying his company a lot more than I should, given my condition."
He frowns, “what’s wrong with that? You’re both happy around each other, so why are you distancing yourself away from him?” 
You scoff, “have you seen me?” You raise your arm that has an IV inserted, along with the other wires connected to you. 
“It doesn’t matter,” Isaac insists gently. “He cares about you. You deserve happiness too, regardless of what’s going on with your health.”
You shake your head, a hint of frustration in your voice. “You don’t understand, Isaac. I don’t have a guarantee of how I’m spending the next week, let alone the rest of my life. I don’t want to hurt Lando by snatching away his happiness one day too. I’m just… preventing myself, and him, from getting too attached to each other.”
Isaac sighs, his expression softening with understanding. "You're not scared of getting too attached, are you? You already are, whether you admit it or not. But by staying away, you're only hurting yourself and him more."
You avert your gaze, feeling the weight of his words sinking in. "I know," you admit quietly. "But I don't know what else to do."
"He deserves to know if he's falling in love with you," Isaac says gently, his voice filled with concern. "And you deserve to have someone by your side, especially during the tough times."
You let out a heavy sigh, knowing he's right but still unsure of what to do next. "I guess I did find someone that fate hates more than me."
"So you agree, that he's in love with you?" Isaac probes, searching your eyes for confirmation.
"He's only in love because he barely knows me," you reply, your voice tinged with sadness.
“Maybe you should give him a chance to know you, the real you,” he responds. 
You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond. Deep down, you know Isaac is right, but the fear of hurting Lando is overwhelming. Yet, the thought of pushing him away hurts just as much.
Before you can dwell on it further, a nurse enters the room, breaking the momentary silence. Isaac gives you a reassuring smile before standing up to give you some privacy. As he leaves, his words linger in the air, leaving you to contemplate the complexities of your situation.
The next morning, you’re discharged, feeling even more drained. The doctors have adjusted your medications, but the prognosis remains grim. 
You left the hospital, walking in step beside Isaac for a moment until he headed towards the parking lot to bring the car around. As you were blinking in the bright morning sunlight, you nearly collided with Max, who was just outside chatting with someone on his phone.
“Hey there!” Max greets you with a wide grin, sliding his phone into his pocket. However, his expression quickly turns into a frown as he notices the hospital wristband adorning your wrist. “Wait, were you in there?” he asks, concern lacing his words. “Is everything okay?”
You take a moment to gather your thoughts, not wanting to worry him unnecessarily or dive into the complexities of your recent hospital stay. “Oh, it was just a routine checkup, some bloodwork, you know how that goes, nothing to worry about,” you assure him with a tight-lipped smile.
Max’s eyes narrow slightly, clearly not entirely convinced by your explanation, but he decides not to press further. 
He glances over his shoulder, then back at you. “I was just at the café right down the street.” 
You nod, “good choice, they make the best coffee in town.” 
He smiled as his choice was approved by you. “Do you need a ride? I’m heading back to the villa.”
You shook your head, “no it’s alright, Isaac’s bringing the car around.”
“Alright, I guess I’ll see you around, only a few more days left before we leave this paradise,” he reminds you. 
You offer him a grateful nod. “Yeah, time flies, doesn’t it?” you reply with a forced smile since you were hoping to return home soon. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
As Max nods in agreement and starts to walk away, you can’t shake the feeling that he suspects something isn’t quite right. But you push the thought aside, determined to focus on the present moment and put on a brave face as you step away from the hospital and back into the world outside.
As Isaac parks in the driveway, you notice Lando pacing back and forth by the front door, his brows furrowed in concern. The sight of him fills you with a tumult of conflicting emotions. Isaac’s words echo in your mind, urging you to be honest with Lando, to tell him how much you care about him, to share the burden of your illness. But fear gnaws at your insides, whispering that revealing the truth will only drive him away. 
His expression changes from relief to frustration as he sees you approaching.
“Where were you?” he demanded, his voice tinged with worry. “I’ve been trying to reach you.” 
As you and Lando stand in front of each other, locked in a tense silence, Isaac takes a step back, sensing the need for privacy between you two. With a subtle nod, he heads inside the cottage, leaving you and Lando alone on the doorstep.
The weight of unspoken words hangs heavy in the air, suffocating you both with its palpable intensity. You struggle to find the right words to break the silence, to bridge the growing chasm between you, but fear and uncertainty grip you like a vice, paralyzing your tongue.
Lando shifts uncomfortably, his gaze flickering between you as if searching for answers in the depths of your eyes. His expression is a mix of hurt and confusion, mirroring the tumultuous storm raging within your own heart.
You want to tell Lando the truth, to let him in, but the thought of exposing your vulnerabilities terrifies you. You can’t bear the idea of him seeing you as fragile, of pitying you. So, holding your head up high, you decide to make him hate you before he realizes that he loves you. 
You force a nonchalant shrug, trying to play it off. “I had some errands to run, and I forgot we had plans.”
“Forgot?” he repeats, incredulous. “We made those plans a while ago. Forget that, I haven’t seen you for days. What’s really going on?”
Annoyed, and wanting to distance yourself from him before your feelings grow even stronger, you let a hint of irritation seep into your voice. “I don’t owe you an explanation for everything I do, Lando. It’s not a big deal.”
He’s taken aback by your rudeness, his face falling slightly. “Not a big deal? I’ve been worried sick about you.”
“Well, you don’t need to be,” you say curtly, avoiding his eyes. “I can take care of myself.”
An awkward silence falls between you two, the tension palpable. Lando’s expression shifts from hurt to confusion. He takes a step back, clearly stung by your words.
“Fine,” he says quietly, his voice pained. “If that’s how you want it.”
You nod, turning away from him and heading inside, each step feeling heavier than the last. Lando stands outside for a moment longer, staring at the closed door. He can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to your abrupt change in behavior, but he respects your wish for distance. With a heavy heart, he turns and walks away, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the echo of the door closing between you
You lean against the door, quickly sliding down and sitting on the floor as you cover your face with your hands, fighting back tears. 
Pushing him away is probably the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but you convince yourself it’s for the best.
Isaac spots you sitting on the floor, and quickly rushes towards you. Moving your hands away from your face, he notices the tears staining your cheeks and has an idea of how the conversation went with Lando. 
"You're still as stubborn as ever, aren't you?" he remarked rhetorically, but then he enveloped you in his arms, holding you close as you trembled with sobs. 
You pulled back slightly, sniffling as you tried to compose yourself. "I can't tell him," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rush of emotions.
Meanwhile, Lando trudged back to the villa, his mind heavy with thoughts and his heart weighed down by the encounter with you. When he arrived, Max was idly sitting around. 
“Hey, mate,” Max greeted but his expression turned serious as he observed Lando’s demeanour. “You okay?” 
Lando shrugged, sitting next to Max as he tried to brush off the weight of his emotions. “I saw her today.” 
He nodded, “how’d it go?” 
Lando frowned, furrowing his brows. “I don’t know, Max. That’s the thing. It’s like I saw a completely different person today. Someone I thought I knew, but now… she’s like a stranger.”
Max furrowed his brow, concerned. “What do you mean?”
Lando shook his head, struggling to find the right words. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like she was pushing me away, Max. Acting cold and distant, like she didn’t want anything to do with me.”
Max nodded in understanding. “Well, mate, maybe she’s just having a rough day. I mean, she was at the hospital earlier.” 
His words caught Lando off guard. He blinked in surprise, his brows furrowing as he processed the information. “Wait, she was at the hospital?” he asked, a note of concern creeping into his voice.
Max nodded solemnly. “Yeah, I saw her leaving earlier today. Said it wasn’t serious, just a routine check up but she looked very tired, like she hadn’t slept properly in days.”
Lando’s concern deepened as he absorbed Max’s words. “Why didn’t she tell me?” he murmured, a mix of worry and frustration evident in his voice.
Max placed a comforting hand on Lando’s shoulder. “Maybe she just needs some space, mate. It’s not easy opening up about personal stuff, especially to someone you care about a lot.”
“You think she cares about me?” Lando asked, his tone almost a mumbling mess. 
Max scoffed, “see I knew you were an idiot but not to this extent that you don’t even see the obvious. Of course she cares about you, mate!” 
“Well I know that, it’s just I don’t wanna read into something that’s not there, you know?” 
Max squeezed Lando’s shoulder reassuringly. “Trust me, mate, it’s there. Sometimes, we just need a little nudge to see what’s right in front of us.”
Lando nodded slowly, his mind still swirling with doubts and questions. “I guess you’re right,” he conceded, a faint glimmer of hope starting to flicker within him.
Max grinned, clapping him on the back. “That’s the spirit! Just give her some time, and I’m sure things will sort themselves out.”
The cottage exudes a somber atmosphere, suffused with memories of those initial days when you sought refuge from your parents' house, just across town. After your diagnosis, living with your parents became unbearable, evoking memories of your tumultuous teenage years, always feeling scolded and misunderstood. With persuasion and determination, you relocated to the cottage, that has always acted as a second childhood home, with your brother, longing for respite from the tumult of your parents' home. Eventually, your parents themselves moved to the next town over, seeking their own fresh start, leaving you and your brother to navigate the challenges of your illness in your quiet abode.
Now, as you sit in the same kitchen where you once grappled with the harsh reality of your illness, the mood is eerily similar. A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you as the silence in the cottage seems to press down, a stark contrast to the vibrant conversations and laughter that once echoed within these walls during your childhood summers. Even more palpably, you recall the warmth of recent memories, the shared laughter with Lando when you had twisted your ankle, filling the space with a joy that now feels distant and elusive. The air is thick with unspoken words, the tension palpable as if one wrong move could shatter the fragile peace you carefully built. 
Isaac sits across from you, his presence comforting amidst the somber atmosphere. He watches you closely, his gaze filled with concern and understanding.
“Are you okay?” he asks, breaking the silence that hangs heavy between you.
You force a smile, but it feels hollow on your lips. “Just tired,” you reply, the words barely audible over the quiet hum of the refrigerator.
While Isaac may be aware of some of the pain you feel, he doesn’t know the full extent of what you’re enduring. You want to shield him from the worst, hiding just how much it hurts. The pain has been relentless, gnawing at you day and night, with only a brief sense of comfort for a few hours after taking your medication. Every movement feels like a struggle, every breath a reminder of the fragility of your condition.
Isaac studies your face, his eyes narrowing with concern. “You should call Mom and Dad,” he says softly, breaking the silence. “They need to know what’s going on. Your health is getting worse.”
You shake your head, the thought of burdening your parents with more bad news twisting your stomach into knots. “They’ve been hoping I’m getting better.”
Isaac sighs, reaching across the table to take your hand. “They’re gonna find out soon enough and they’ll want to be here for you, to support you. It’s better they hear it from you than from anyone else.”
You look down at your hands, Isaac’s warmth a stark contrast to the cold dread settling in your bones. “I just… I don’t want to shatter their hope again.”
Isaac squeezes your hand gently. “They love you. They’re not going to be disappointed in you. They’ll be worried, sure, but they need to know. You need all the support you can get.”
You nod slowly, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. “Okay,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I’ll call them.”
Isaac gives you a reassuring smile, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Good. We’ll get through this together. You’re not alone.”
You manage a hint of a smile, looking at Isaac. “You know,” you say softly, “you’re such a good older brother especially for someone who’s younger than me.”
Isaac chuckles, a warm, comforting sound in the quiet room. “Age is just a number,” he says, squeezing your hand gently. “Besides, someone has to keep you in line.”
“Keep me in line? I think we’ve switched roles, remember how I used to keep you out of trouble?” You remark. 
You can feel the tension ease in the room as Isaac laughs at the memory before standing up to prepare dinner, allowing you to pick up your phone. 
The thought of hearing your parents’ voices fills you with a mixture of fear and relief. You know Isaac is right, but the conversation ahead feels like another mountain to climb. Taking a deep breath, you dial the familiar number, bracing yourself for what’s to come. The phone rings, and with each passing moment, you feel the weight of the upcoming conversation pressing down on you.
Finally, your mother answers, her voice warm and familiar. “Hello, sweetie. It’s been a while since you called. How are you?”
You hesitate for a moment, trying to keep your voice steady. “Hi, Mom. I… I need to talk to you about something.”
There’s a pause, and you can hear the concern in her voice. “What is it, honey? Is everything alright?”
Before you can respond, she quickly switches to a video call. Her face appears on the screen, eyes wide with worry. “Tell me what’s going on,” she says, her voice trembling slightly.
Seeing her face makes it harder to hold back your emotions. You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. “Mom, I’ve been trying to stay strong and not worry you and Dad, but… my health has been getting worse.”
Her expression shifts from concern to fear and then to a hint of anger masking hurt. “Worse? How worse, dear? Are you not taking care of yourself properly?”
You wince at her words, knowing they come from a place of worry. “I stayed a night at the hospital,” you continue. “They said if it doesn’t get better with the new medication, I’ll have to go back. The pain has been relentless. I can barely move without feeling it, and the medication only helps for a few hours.”
Your mother’s face pales, her eyes filling with tears. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner? We’ve been hoping you were getting better.”
“I didn’t want to worry you,” you admit, your voice cracking. “I wanted to protect you from the worst of it.”
Your mother shakes her head, wiping away a tear. “We’re your parents. We want to be there for you, no matter what. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
“I know,” you say, your own tears starting to fall. “It’s just so hard. Every day feels like a struggle, and I didn’t want to burden you.”
Isaac rounds the kitchen table and speaks up, his voice steady and supportive. “We’re all in this together, Mom. We need your support now more than ever.”
Your mother nods, her expression determined, though the hurt still lingers in her eyes. “We’ll be there for you, sweetheart. Every step of the way.”
Just then, she turns her head and calls out, “Honey, come here. It’s important.”
A moment later, your father appears on the screen, his face etched with concern. “What’s going on?”
Your mother explains quickly, her voice trembling. “She’s not doing well. She had to stay overnight at the hospital, and she might have to go back soon. We need to be there for her.”
Your father’s expression hardens with resolve. “We’ll come over soon. Don’t worry, just be careful.”
Hearing his firm, supportive words, you feel a sense of relief and hope. “I will, thank you, Dad. I love you both.”
“We love you too,” he replies, his voice full of emotion. “We’re here for you, no matter what.”
After exchanging goodbyes and promising to see each other soon, you hang up the phone, feeling a slight sense of relief wash over you. Though it's only temporary, the weight on your shoulders lifts ever so slightly.
As Isaac reveals dinner, the aroma of his culinary creation fills the air, tempting your senses with its savory goodness. But as you take a closer look at your own plate, disappointment washes over you. The food in front of you is bland and uninspiring, reminiscent of the tasteless hospital meals you’ve grown accustomed to.
You poke at your food with little enthusiasm, knowing that the increased dosage of medication has left your taste buds dulled and unresponsive. “I can’t eat this,” you mutter, pushing the plate away with a sigh.
Isaac looks up from his own meal, concern creasing his eyebrow. “Come on, you need to eat something,” he urges, his voice gentle but firm. “It’s important for your recovery.”
You shake your head, frustration bubbling up inside you. “But it tastes like nothing,” you protest, the monotony of the hospital diet weighing heavily on your spirit.
Isaac nods sympathetically, understanding your struggle. “I know it’s tough,” he says softly. “But remember what the doctor said about avoiding spice. It’s all part of the plan to help you get better.”
Reluctantly, you take a small bite, forcing yourself to chew and swallow despite the lack of flavor. The effort feels futile, but you know Isaac is right. You need to keep up your strength, even if it means enduring tasteless meals for the time being.
As you pick at your food, Isaac’s voice breaks through your thoughts, his tone lighthearted but determined. “Hey, once you’re feeling better, we’ll have a hot chicken wing contest,” he suggests, a playful twinkle in his eye. “Just like old times. And I promise, I’ll make them so spicy, you won’t be able to taste anything for a week.”
Despite yourself, a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. The idea of a hot chicken wing contest brings back memories of happier times, when your biggest worry was who would win the next round.
“Deal,” you agree, the idea of better days ahead spurring you on. But deep down, you know the truth that you can’t bring yourself to voice aloud in front of him again. You’re not getting better, no matter how much you wish you could.
The next day, you wake up with a sense of urgency gnawing at your insides, an inexplicable feeling pulling you towards the lighthouse. It’s as if an invisible force is guiding you, compelling you to make this journey one last time.
As you slip out of bed and prepare to leave the house, a mixture of determination and trepidation fills your heart. You know deep down that this might be the last opportunity you have to climb those stairs, to feel the wind on your face as you stand at the top and gaze out at the vast expanse of the ocean.
Isaac notices your movements and steps forward, concern etched into his features.
“Hey, where are you off to?” he asks, his voice gentle yet probing.
You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should share your intentions. But then, you meet his gaze and find solace in his familiar eyes.
“I’m going to the lighthouse,” you reply, your voice steady despite the weight of your words. “I just… need some time alone.”
Isaac’s expression softens, understanding dawning in his eyes. He reaches out to squeeze your shoulder gently, offering silent support.
“Take all the time you need,” he says softly. “And if you need anything, call me.”
With a grateful nod, you offer him a small smile before turning to leave, the weight of your decision heavy on your heart.
You make your way up the stairs to the lighthouse, each step feeling heavier than the last. The climb feels like an uphill battle, and you find yourself pausing every few steps to catch your breath.
Your chest heaves with the effort, and a wave of dizziness washes over you as you reach the halfway point. You lean against the railing, willing yourself to continue despite the fatigue that threatens to overwhelm you.
With each step, the distance between you and the top of the lighthouse seems to stretch on forever. Your muscles ache with exertion, and your breath comes in ragged gasps.
But you refuse to give up. You grit your teeth and push through the pain, focusing all your energy on reaching the summit. With each step, you draw closer to your goal, fueled by the determination to see the view from the top one last time.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you reach the top of the lighthouse, gasping for air, only to find Lando already there, leaning against the railing and gazing out at the horizon. He turns as he hears your footsteps and ragged breaths, surprise flickering across his face. 
He takes a step back, clearly intending to give you some space. “I’ll go down,” he mutters awkwardly, gesturing towards the stairs. “This place is your spot.”
But before he can move away, you reach out and grab his hand, stopping him in his tracks. “No,” you say firmly, your voice stronger than you feel. “Stay.”
He hesitates for a moment, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, but then he nods and settles back against the railing, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart as you lean against the railing beside him. Despite the exhaustion that weighs heavily on you, being close to him brings a sense of comfort that you can’t quite explain.
“Thanks,” you murmur, grateful for his presence beside you.
He offers you a small, tentative smile in return, his hand tightening around yours in a silent gesture of support.
Taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you turn to Lando, feeling the weight of the unspoken tension between you two like a heavy blanket.
"Listen, I owe you an apology," you begin, your voice soft but sincere. "I've been acting... differently lately, and I want you to know that it's not because of anything you did. That day, I was at the hospital for a routine checkup, and it just tired me out more than I expected. I’m sorry about ditching our plans."
You technically didn’t lie, but also didn’t tell him the whole truth either. You pause, searching his face for any sign of understanding or acceptance. His expression softens, and you feel a flicker of relief.
"I shouldn't have been so rude to you," you continue, your tone earnest. "I appreciate your patience, and I'm sorry if I made you feel unwelcome."
Lando nods, his eyes reflecting empathy. "It's okay," he says gently, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "I understand. And I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable by showing up here."
You shake your head, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "No, you don't need to apologize. I'm glad you're here."
With that, the tension between you starts to dissolve, replaced by a sense of mutual understanding and acceptance as you stand side by side, watching the waves crash against the shore below.
Taking a moment to admire the breathtaking view from the top of the lighthouse, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. But as the adrenaline of the climb begins to wear off, your legs start to tremble beneath you, threatening to give out at any moment.
Recognizing the warning signs of exhaustion, you carefully lower yourself to the ground, your muscles protesting with each movement. Sitting down with a heavy sigh of relief, you lean back against the cool stone wall of the lighthouse, grateful for the brief respite from the physical strain.
Lando joined you as well, sitting side by side on the floor of the lighthouse. You continue to hold onto his hand, your fingers tracing patterns absentmindedly. However, despite your attempt to clear the air, he still seems hesitant, his brows furrowed with confusion. 
Finally, unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, Lando breaks the silence. “Hey, can I ask you something?” he begins, his voice tentative. 
You turn to him, meeting his gaze with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. “Of course,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the weight of the conversation.
He hesitates for a moment before plunging ahead. “Did something happen the night we went for burgers?” he asks, his words carefully measured. “I mean, you seemed off after… and I’ve been wondering if I did something wrong.”
Realization dawns on you that he’s talking about the almost kiss. The memory of that night floods back, the charged moment in his car when he had pulled back. You had admired his restraint, his desire to do things right, but it also made your heart ache with longing.
Your heart sinks at his words, the guilt weighing heavy on your chest. “No, Lando,” you assure him, squeezing his hand gently. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 
You glance at him, seeing the earnest concern in his eyes. How you wish you had the courage to pull him in by his collar and kiss him then, to let him know just how much he meant to you despite everything. 
But he doesn’t seem convinced, his gaze searching yours for any sign of dishonesty. “Don’t lie,” he says softly, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration.
You hesitate, grappling with the weight of your own emotions and the truth you’re desperate to conceal. Part of you wants to tell him how much his presence means to you, how his laughter lights up even the darkest corners of your world. But fear holds you back, whispering cruel reminders of the inevitability of heartbreak both of you will experience. 
Instead of answering his question, you take a deep breath and change the subject. “So, when are you leaving?” you ask, trying to divert his attention away from your own turmoil.
He furrows his brow, clearly surprised by the sudden shift in conversation but decides not to push for an answer. “Tomorrow,” he replies, a hint of sadness in his voice.
You offer him a small smile, “well, I hope you had a good time despite my lackluster tour guide skills,” you quip, attempting to lighten the mood.
He chuckles softly, the sound warm and genuine. “Meeting you was my favorite part,” he admits, his gaze unwavering as he meets your eyes. “Spending time with you, even if it wasn’t every day, made this trip unforgettable.”
You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks at his admission, the warmth of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. There’s a playful glint in his eyes that ignites a natural spark of flirtation between you. 
In the quiet solitude of the lighthouse, you find yourself caught up in the moment with Lando, the days missed due to your own fear melting away with each shared smile and genuine laugh. Despite the lingering weight of your illness and the uncertainty that shadows your future, you're finally able to let go of the constant worry and embrace the present.
You realize that constantly dwelling on the unknown, on whether you'll have more time together or not, only serves to rob you of the joy of the moment. So instead, you allow yourself to be fully present with Lando, savoring each precious second together.
Yet, beneath the surface of your newfound acceptance, there still lingers a trace of fear. You know that distancing yourself from Lando won't protect either of you from the inevitable pain that lies ahead. His genuine smile, the way his eyes light up when he's with you, speaks volumes, and you can't deny the pull you feel toward him.
Despite the uncertainty of what the future holds, you're willing to take the risk, to open your heart to the possibility of love, even if it means facing the inevitable heartache that may follow. Because in the end, the fleeting moments of happiness you share with Lando are worth every ounce of pain.
Lando straightens up, his movements fluid and confident, as he leans in closer, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. "Hey, do you mind giving me your number and surname?" he asks casually, but there's a hint of mischief in his tone.
You raise an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "What are you going to do with that information?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued.
His smile widens, a charming grin that could melt anyone's heart. "Well, first so we can still stay in touch even if I’m on the other side of the world, and second so I can send you a pass for one of my races," he replies smoothly, his voice laced with playful charm.
You can't help but chuckle at his response, shaking your head in amusement. "And why would I come to your race?" you tease, enjoying the banter between you.
Lando's gaze softens, a warmth in his eyes that catches you off guard. "I think you might be my lucky charm," he admits, his tone sincere.
You pause, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with uncertainty. "You believe in lucky charms?" you ask, a hint of skepticism in your voice.
He nods, his smile unwavering. "I didn't," he confesses, "but now it seems like a good time to start believing. Why are you asking so many questions?" he adds playfully, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
You can't help but smile at his lighthearted demeanor, appreciating the way he effortlessly lightens the mood. "You don't want me as a lucky charm," you reply, a touch of self-doubt creeping into your voice.
Lando's expression softens, his gaze filled with genuine warmth. "Why not?" he counters, his tone gentle yet determined.
"It won't last long," you murmur, a pang of sadness tugging at your heart as you glance away.
He reaches out, gently tilting your chin to meet his gaze. "It'll last as long as you're by my side," he insists, his voice sincere and unwavering. "That is up to you, don't you think so?"
His words catch you off guard, stirring something deep within you. "Now who's asking lots of questions?" you tease, attempting to lighten the mood.
"Still you," he replies with a chuckle, his eyes twinkling with affection.
You shake your head, feeling a surge of warmth at his playful banter. "You're something else, Lando."
"So are you," he replies, his smile soft and genuine. "In the best way possible."
You oblige Lando’s request, typing your phone number into his phone and saving your full name in his contacts. It’s a small gesture, but one that feels significant in the moment, despite the fact that you know you’ll never take him up on the offer for a pass to his race.
As the sun casts its golden glow across the rugged coastline, you and Lando sit side by side, taking in the breathtaking view from the top of the lighthouse. The air is filled with the sounds of seagulls circling overhead and the distant rumble of waves crashing against the shore below.
Lando’s arm around your shoulders feels like a lifeline, grounding you in the present moment amidst the tumult of your thoughts and emotions. You find solace in his presence, a sense of calm washing over you as you soak in the warmth of the afternoon sun.
The playful banter and teasing remarks give way to a comfortable silence, allowing you both to simply be in each other’s company without the need for words. It’s a moment of quiet intimacy, where the weight of the world fades away and all that matters is the connection between you and Lando.
You lean into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing and the reassuring strength of his arm around you. In this moment, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the warmth of Lando’s presence, you feel a sense of peace wash over you, knowing that whatever the future may hold, you’re grateful for this moment of shared serenity.
As you both prepare to descend the stairs, Lando pauses, noticing your reluctance to leave the view behind. "Shouldn't I be the one lingering back to admire the horizon? After all, I'm the one leaving, not you," he quips with a playful smirk.
You chuckle at his remark, shaking your head in amusement. "Come on, Lando, don't act like you're the only one who appreciates a good view," you tease back, nudging him lightly.
He grins, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before turning back to the scenery. "Fair point," he concedes, his tone light and playful. “I’ll wait for you downstairs then.” 
You nod, watching him make his way down the stairs. The gentle breeze ruffles your hair, and you take a deep breath, committing the scene to memory.
With a sense of purpose, you scan the area, searching for the perfect spot to leave your message. Your eyes alight on a small alcove tucked away in a corner, sheltered from the wind and hidden from plain sight. It’s a secluded nook, easily overlooked by passersby, but will be found if it’s searched for. 
Slipping something into the alcove, you ensure it’s nestled securely among the shadows, a subtle gesture meant for only the most observant of visitors. With a satisfied nod, you turn to follow Lando down the stairs. 
The following day is a whirlwind of activity as your parents arrive at the cottage. They come bearing an array of supplies and comforts, ready to pamper you with their love and attention.
"Sweetheart, we brought some of your favorite homemade meals," your mom chirps, bustling into the kitchen with bags of groceries in tow.
Your dad follows closely behind, a stack of freshly laundered blankets in his arms. "And I made sure to pack extra blankets in case you get chilly," he adds with a warm smile.
Isaac turns to your mother, his expression gentle yet concerned. “Just a heads up, she can’t have any spicy food because of the doctor’s orders,” he explains, hoping to avoid any culinary mishaps.
“Isaac, don’t ruin it,” you mutter, holding the tupperware filled with your favourite dishes. 
Your dad, overhearing the conversation, interjects with a reassuring pat on Isaac’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, son. Your mother has spent many hours in the kitchen cooking up a storm for our girl here,” he says with a fond smile. “A little taste of home can work wonders for the soul.”
You can't help but smile at their fussing, feeling a mixture of gratitude and guilt at their doting gestures. "How long are you planning to stay?" you inquire, trying to gauge the extent of their visit.
"Until you're better, of course," your mom replies without hesitation, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Throughout the day, your parents dote on you, attending to your every need with unwavering devotion. They fluff pillows, brew tea, and fuss over you as if you were a child again, and despite the sadness that tugs at your heart, you find solace in their presence.
As evening falls and the cottage is filled with the aroma of home-cooked meals, you can't help but feel a pang of bittersweet nostalgia. These moments of familial closeness are precious, and you savor each one, knowing deep down that they may be fleeting.
Amidst the cozy atmosphere that had filled your cottage, a sudden realization dawns on you. Today is the day Lando is leaving, and with the flurry of activity happening throughout the day, you had almost forgotten. 
Abandoning your dinner mid-bite, you quickly put on a pair of shoes, your heart pounding with urgency. As you rush towards the door, your parents pause in their fussing, exchanging puzzled glances as they notice your abrupt departure.
“Where are you going?” your mom asks, concern etched in her voice.
You pause in the doorway, a sense of determination driving you forward. “I have to see Lando,” you reply, your words rushed and breathless.
As you disappear out the door, your parents turn to your brother, confusion evident in their expressions. “Who’s Lando?” your dad asks, his brow furrowed in bewilderment.
Isaac sighs, shaking his head as he meets their gaze. “He’s the one she’s in love with,” he explains softly, a hint of sadness in his voice. “But I’m not sure if she’s ready to accept it yet.” 
As you reach the villa, your breath comes in ragged gasps, each inhale becoming a struggle. Pain pulses through your chest with every heartbeat, but you refuse to let it slow you down. Adrenaline surges through your veins, driving you forward with an urgency born of raw emotion.
Your eyes scan the scene before you, taking in the sight of Max hurriedly loading the car with his and Lando’s bags. The trunk is nearly full, a testament to the impending departure that looms over you like a storm cloud. You feel a knot form in your stomach, a sense of panic seizing hold of you as you realize that time is slipping away.
Then, amidst the chaos, you spot Lando emerging from the villa, his expression one of surprise and concern as he catches sight of you. His brow furrows in confusion, his eyes searching yours for an explanation.
Without hesitation, you push yourself forward, your feet carrying you towards him with a desperate urgency. With trembling hands, you reach out to him, your fingers brushing against his arm before wrapping around him in a tight embrace. His warmth envelops you, a comforting anchor amidst the storm raging within you. For a fleeting moment, the pain in your chest eases, replaced by a sense of peace that only he can provide.
For a long moment, you simply hold onto each other, the world around you fading into insignificance as you find solace in each other’s arms. The weight of unspoken words hangs heavy between you, the truth lingering on the tip of your tongue, waiting to be unleashed.
As you finally pull away, a silent understanding passes between you, a shared acknowledgment of the depth of your connection. Lando’s gaze searches yours, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and affection, silently asking if you’re okay.
You manage a faint smile, though it feels fragile on your lips. “I just had to see you before you left,” you confess softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
His expression softens, a warmth in his eyes that speaks volumes. “I’m glad you came,” he replies, his voice gentle and reassuring.
You linger for a moment longer, drinking in the sight of him, committing every detail to memory. Then, with a heavy heart, you reluctantly release him, knowing that time is running short.
As Lando returns to help Max with the bags, you watch him go, a sense of longing tugging at your heart. 
Once everything was packed up, Lando and Max walked towards you, their footsteps echoing on the gravel driveway. Max reaches you first, his face lit with a warm smile. Without hesitation, he pulls you into a brief, friendly hug. 
“Thanks for the good company,” Max says, his voice full of genuine gratitude. “And for keeping Lando’s mood up throughout this trip. You’ve been a real lifesaver.” He chuckles, the sound infectious, and you can’t help but laugh along with him.
“Anytime,” you reply, your smile widening. “It’s been fun having you both around.”
Max steps back, giving Lando space to step forward. Lando’s eyes meet yours, and there’s a depth of emotion there that makes your heart skip a beat. He takes your hands in his, holding them gently as if afraid you might disappear.
“This isn’t goodbye,” Lando says softly, his tone filled with a mixture of hope and determination. “Just a ‘see you later,’ alright?”
You nod, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “See you later,” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.
Lando pulls you into a tight embrace this time, his arms wrapping around you protectively. You breathe in his familiar scent, the comfort of his presence grounding you in the moment.
He pulls back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders as he searches your face. “Don’t think I forgot about giving you a pass,” he says with a small, teasing smile. “I’ll be waiting for you at the race.”
You smile through the tears that threaten to spill over. “We’ll see.” 
Max claps Lando on the back, breaking the emotional moment. “Come on, mate, we’ve got a plane to catch.”
With one last look, Lando releases you and heads towards the car. You watch them drive away, a mix of sadness and hope swirling within you. The ache in your chest grows, but you try to push it aside, focusing on ways to fulfill the promise of seeing him again.
As you start walking back home, the exertion from earlier catches up to you. Your breath becomes labored, each step feeling heavier than the last. A sharp pain radiates through your chest, and you find yourself struggling to stay upright. Determined to make it back to the cottage, you push on, but every movement is a reminder of your body’s limitations.
By the time you reach the door, you’re barely holding on. You collapse onto the porch steps, gasping for breath, the world around you blurring as you fight to stay conscious. Moments later, the door swings open, and Isaac is there, his face pale with worry.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, rushing to your side. His voice sounds distant, echoing in your ears.
You try to speak, but the words get caught in your throat. Instead, you manage a weak nod, though it’s clear you’re far from okay.
Isaac doesn’t waste another second. He scoops you up in his arms, carrying you inside. “Mom! Dad!” he calls out, his voice frantic. “Something’s wrong. We need to get her to the hospital.”
Your parents appear almost instantly, their faces a mixture of fear and determination. Your dad grabs the car keys while your mom hurries to gather your things, her hands shaking.
In the car, you drift in and out of consciousness, the pain and exhaustion overwhelming you. Your mom holds your hand tightly, whispering soothing words that barely register. Isaac drives with a grim focus, the worry in his eyes reflected in the rearview mirror.
At the hospital, the staff quickly takes over, whisking you away on a stretcher. Your family is left in the waiting room, their anxious faces a blur as you’re rushed through the halls.
As the doctors and nurses work to stabilize you, you catch fleeting thoughts of Lando, Max, and the brief, bright moments you shared. The reality of your condition settles in, and you realize just how fragile your hope had been.
The doctors stabilize you for now, but you wake to the sound of your mother's soft cries in the room. Her face is buried in your father's shoulder, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. Your father is holding her close, his eyes red and puffy, a grim expression etched on his face. Isaac stands nearby, his jaw clenched, trying to hold himself together.
You blink, the fluorescent lights above casting a harsh glow on the stark white walls. A doctor stands at the foot of your bed, looking somber. You catch bits and pieces of his words, the clinical detachment in his voice contrasting sharply with the raw emotion in the room.
"...best if she doesn’t return home... too weak... last days in the hospital..."
The full weight of the words crashes over you, and a sense of helplessness fills your heart. You try to speak, but your throat is dry, and the words come out as a rasp. "Mom? Dad?"
Your mother's head snaps up at the sound of your voice, and she rushes to your side, taking your hand in hers. "Oh, sweetheart," she whispers, tears streaming down her face. "We're here. We're right here."
Your father moves closer, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We won't leave your side," he promises, his voice steady despite the tears in his eyes.
Isaac approaches the bed, his usual bravado stripped away. "Hey," he says softly, trying to muster a smile. "We’re all here for you."
You swallow hard, trying to process the reality of the situation. "How long?" you manage to ask, your voice barely a whisper.
The doctor steps forward, his expression compassionate. "It’s hard to say for certain," he admits gently. "But we’ll do everything we can to keep you comfortable."
You nod, a mixture of fear and resignation settling over you. Your mother's sobs have quieted, but the sorrow in her eyes is unmistakable. "I’m so sorry," you whisper, feeling a pang of guilt for putting them through this.
"No, don’t apologize," your father says firmly, squeezing your shoulder. "This isn’t your fault. We’re just grateful to be here with you."
Your family’s presence brings a small measure of comfort, but the reality of your condition is a heavy burden. You look around at their faces, trying to memorize every detail, every expression. The room feels both claustrophobic and infinite, the moments stretching out like a fragile thread.
As the night wears on, you find solace in their presence. Your mother hums softly, stroking your hair, while your father reads to you from a book you loved as a child. Isaac sits by the window, watching the night sky, his expression pensive.
You know that the days ahead will be difficult, but for now, you take comfort in the love that surrounds you. The hospital room, with its sterile walls and beeping machines, becomes a sanctuary of sorts, a place where you can hold on to the precious moments with your family, no matter how fleeting they may be.
The sterile scent of the hospital room is overwhelming, the beeping of the machines a constant reminder of the deteriorating state of your health. The wires and tubes attached to your body are a constant presence, their weight both physical and symbolic. The medication dulls the pain, but it also leaves you in a fog, half-aware of the world around you.
Isaac sits by your bedside, his expression a mix of forced cheerfulness and hidden sorrow. He tries to make you laugh, telling stories and cracking jokes, but there’s an underlying tension in his voice.
You take a shaky breath and glance at Isaac. “So, this is it, huh?” you say with a dry laugh, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the sadness in your voice.
He looks at you, the forced cheerfulness slipping from his face. “Still laughing?” he asks, his voice quivering.
“If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I don’t want that to be the last expression you remember me by.”
Isaac’s eyes glisten with unshed tears. “Remember when you said that you weren’t able to be a proper older sister to me ever since you got diagnosed?” he asks softly. “That’s wrong. You still were because you powered through every moment of pain on your own. Even now, you’re as selfless as ever.”
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and you swallow hard. “I got a taste of how it feels to be selfish recently,” you confess, your voice trembling. “To see what you want right there in front of you, waiting for you to take it, but I almost got too attached to it that fate had to rip it away from me again.”
“Are you talking about Lando?” Isaac asks gently, his eyes searching yours.
You nod, the memories of your brief time with Lando flooding back, a bittersweet ache in your chest. “Life is so cruel, so fickle,” you say, your voice barely audible. “When I finally accepted my fate, it flipped and gave me a chance to be happy, to fall in love, to live like I’ve never done before. When I experienced it all, it just made me greedy. I wanted to keep living like that. But I won’t be able to because in a moment, it’s taken away again.”
Isaac squeezes your hand, his grip warm and reassuring. “You deserved every moment of happiness,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “And you brought happiness to those around you, too. Remember that.”
The days pass in a blur of medical checks, whispered conversations, and the quiet hum of machines. Your parents come and go, their faces lined with worry but always offering words of comfort and love.
Then comes Sunday, one that’s special for you because it’s also race day. 
The hospital room is dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of the television screen mounted on the wall. The muted hum of machines and the occasional beep provide a constant backdrop to your labored breathing. Your family surrounds you, their presence a source of comfort even as your strength wanes. The room is filled with an unspoken tension, a fragile hope that somehow, you might find the strength to hold on a little longer.
Earlier in the day, you had pleaded with the nurses to let you watch the race. “Please,” you whispered, your voice weak but determined. “I just want to see him race one last time.”
The nurses had exchanged glances, their expressions softening. “Alright,” one of them had said gently. “We’ll make sure you can watch it.”
Now, the vibrant colors of the Formula 1 race contrast sharply with the sterile white of the hospital room. Lando’s car, resplendent in its sleek orange design, zips around the track with an elegance and speed that seems almost otherworldly. The commentator’s voice crackles with excitement as they describe the race in vivid detail.
“And Lando Norris takes the lead! He’s showing incredible skill out there today, really pushing the limits of his car and his own abilities. The crowd is going wild!”
You try to focus on the race, on the laps ticking by, the thrill of each turn, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult. Your vision blurs, the lines between the real and the surreal beginning to merge. Every breath is a struggle, each one more labored than the last.
Your mother sits by your side, her hand gently stroking your hair, her eyes red-rimmed but determined to stay strong. Your father stands at the foot of the bed, his face etched with lines of worry and sorrow. Isaac holds your hand, his grip firm and reassuring, his eyes never leaving your face.
You gather your remaining strength, turning your head slightly to look at Isaac. “Can you give him a message for me?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper, each word a struggle.
Isaac leans closer, his face etched with concern and determination. “What do you want to say?” he asks gently, his eyes locked onto yours, ready to carry your words to Lando.
You pause, the weight of the moment settling over you. With great effort, you manage to form the words that have been in your heart. “Tell him… tell him that he made me believe in living life again. That he gave me something beautiful in my last days. And… and that I’ll always be cheering for him, even if I’m not there.”
Isaac’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, and he nods, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes. “I will. I promise.”
On the television, Lando navigates the sharp turns of the track with precision and grace. The roar of the engines and the thrill of the race create a stark contrast to the quiet, somber atmosphere of your room. The commentator’s voice booms with excitement.
“Norris is extending his lead! This could be his race if he keeps up this pace. The team must be thrilled with his performance!”
On the Formula 1 track, the atmosphere is electric. Lando sits in his car, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He can feel every vibration of the engine, every nuance of the track. The pit crew buzzes with activity, their movements synchronized and efficient. Over the radio, his engineer’s voice provides updates and encouragement.
“You’re doing great, Lando. Keep this up and the win is yours.”
Lando nods inside his helmet, his focus razor-sharp. The crowd’s cheers blend into a singular wave of energy that propels him forward. He pushes the car to its limits, every fiber of his being dedicated to the race.
Back in the hospital, your breathing becomes more labored, and your family’s concern deepens. Your mother’s voice breaks as she hums softly, a lullaby from your childhood. Isaac squeezes your hand, his own tears finally breaking free.
“I love you,” you whisper, the words a final, heartfelt goodbye.
“We love you too,” Isaac responds, his voice choked with emotion. “More than anything.”
On the track, Lando crosses the finish line, the checkered flag waving triumphantly. The crowd erupts into a frenzy of cheers and applause. The commentator’s voice is almost drowned out by the noise.
“Lando Norris wins the race! What an incredible performance!”
In the paddock, Lando is overwhelmed with joy, the culmination of his efforts and dedication. He pulls off his helmet, his face breaking into a wide smile as he celebrates with his team. He can’t wait to share the victory, to tell you about the race, to see the look of pride in your eyes.
You watch from the hospital room, as Lando stands on the podium, lifting the trophy high, a sense of accomplishment filling him. A smile graces your lips, noticing the pure joy on his face. Then, you close your eyes, the vision of Lando’s smile still fresh in your mind. 
Time stands still. As the world fades around you, your family holds you close, their whispered goodbyes blending into a chorus of love and sorrow. The light in your eyes dims, and with one last, labored breath, you slip away into a place beyond suffering.
As soon as the machine flatlines, the piercing sound of the monitor cuts through the room, signaling the end. Your mother's cries shatter the silence, raw and heart-wrenching. She grips your hand with desperate strength, her knuckles turning white, as if her hold on you could somehow bring you back. 
"No, no, please!" she sobs, her voice cracking with each word. Tears stream down her face, her body trembling with the force of her grief. She shakes you gently at first, then more insistently, refusing to accept the finality of it. "Wake up, please wake up!"
Your father stands by her side, his own face etched with anguish. He places a hand on her shoulder, trying to offer support, but his own tears betray his stoic exterior. Isaac, standing a little apart, is frozen in shock, his eyes wide and uncomprehending as he watches the scene unfold. 
The room is filled with the oppressive weight of sorrow, the air heavy with the collective grief of your family. The nurses, having done all they could, step back to give your family space, their own expressions somber and respectful. 
Your mother’s cries grow louder, a desperate plea to a reality that feels too cruel to be true. She holds your hand to her cheek, her tears wetting your skin as she rocks back and forth. "Please, don’t leave us," she whispers, her voice breaking. "We need you."
The doctor steps forward, his face grave, and gently places a hand on your mother’s arm. "I’m so sorry for your loss," he says quietly, his words sincere but powerless against the tidal wave of their grief.
The only reality that matters is the unbearable pain of losing you, and the impossible task of trying to say goodbye.
On the top step of the podium, Lando basks in the glow of victory, the thrill of the race still pulsing through him. But amidst the celebration, a nagging feeling tugs at him, a sense that something is missing. A bittersweet undercurrent flows through his triumph.
Unbeknownst to him, a message of love and gratitude is on its way, bridging the distance between the track and the hospital room, connecting two hearts in a moment that transcends time and space.
Suddenly, your phone rings, the shrill sound cutting through the flatline beeping on the monitor. Each ring echoes through the room like a mournful dirge. Isaac’s hand hovers over the device, his heart pounding in his chest as he hesitates to answer. But when the call comes again, he knows there’s no escaping the inevitable.
With trembling fingers, he accepts the call, the voice on the other end sending a shiver down his spine. “Were you watching the race? I told you that you are my lucky charm.”
Isaac’s breath catches in his throat, his eyes welling with tears at the bitter irony of Lando’s words. He struggles to find the strength to respond, his voice choked with emotion. “Lando… it’s Isaac.”
There’s a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line, followed by a tremor of uncertainty in Lando’s voice. “Isaac? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
Isaac’s heart clenches at the desperation in Lando’s voice, his own grief threatening to consume him. “She’s gone, Lando,” he manages to choke out, his voice breaking with sorrow. “My sister… she’s gone.”
The words hang heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the cruel twist of fate that has robbed them of their happiness. Lando’s breath hitches, his voice barely a whisper as he responds. “No… no, that can’t be true. Tell me you’re lying, tell me this is some sick joke please”
Isaac’s heart aches as he hears the disbelief and anguish in Lando’s voice. He wishes he could erase the truth, to shield Lando from the devastating reality they now face. But there’s no escaping it, no denying the painful truth that hangs between them like a heavy shroud.
“I wish I could, Lando,” Isaac murmurs, his own voice choked with sorrow. “I wish this was just a sick joke, but… but she’s really gone.”
There’s a long, agonizing pause, broken only by the sound of Lando’s ragged breathing on the other end of the line. Isaac can imagine the turmoil raging within him, the crushing weight of grief threatening to overwhelm him entirely. He relays the message that you had for him, only hearing Lando breathing heavily in response. 
As Lando stands there, clutching the phone that brought him devastating news, the world around him seems to blur into a haze of incomprehensible grief. The congratulations from his fellow drivers fall on deaf ears, their voices distant and muffled as if coming from a far-off place. Daniel, Carlos, George—all of them offer their heartfelt congratulations, their smiles genuine, but Lando can't bring himself to respond. 
He feels disconnected, as if he's merely a spectator watching his own life unfold from a distance. The cameras flash around him, capturing the jubilant celebrations of victory, but Lando feels nothing but a hollow emptiness gnawing at his soul.
Unable to bear the facade any longer, Lando excuses himself from the crowd, retreating to the sanctuary of his driver's room. Once alone, the weight of his grief crashes over him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him in its depths.
With a gut-wrenching scream, Lando releases the pent-up anguish that has been building inside him since the moment he received that fateful call. He falls to his knees, his body racked with sobs as he grapples with the cruel twist of fate that has torn his world apart.
In that moment of agonizing despair, Lando feels utterly alone, lost in a sea of grief with no shore in sight. The victory he had worked so hard for feels meaningless now, a hollow triumph overshadowed by the devastating loss of someone he held dear.
As the echoes of his cries fade into the silence of the empty room, Lando finds himself consumed by a profound sense of despair. In the midst of his greatest triumph, he is confronted with the harsh reality of mortality, and it is a bitter pill to swallow.
Alone in his hotel room, Lando’s victory feels hollow amidst the empty silence that surrounds him. Instead of celebrating with the fanfare of music, alcohol, and camaraderie that would be expected after such a result, he finds himself throwing his belongings haphazardly into his suitcase, his movements mechanical and devoid of purpose. 
The room feels suffocating, the weight of grief pressing down on him like a physical force. With a sense of urgency, Lando hastily gathers his things, his hands trembling as he zips up his suitcase. 
As he exits the hotel, he fires off a text to his manager, explaining the situation briefly, typing through his clouded vision full of more unshed tears. 
Lando chooses not to drive, the mere thought of operating a vehicle feeling like an insurmountable task. Instead, he hails a taxi, his mind consumed by thoughts of you and the gaping void left in your absence.
The taxi driver casts him a curious glance as he climbs into the backseat, his tear-streaked face a stark contrast to the typical fare. But Lando pays no mind to the stares, his thoughts consumed by the overwhelming grief that threatens to consume him.
Throughout the journey to the airport, Lando’s tears continue to flow unabated, his heart weighed down by the magnitude of his loss. He feels adrift, lost in a sea of pain and sorrow, unsure of how to navigate the tumultuous waters of his emotions.
Lando finds himself grappling with conflicting emotions as he boards the plane back to the town filled with memories of you. Despite the overwhelming pain of revisiting every corner suffused with reminders of your presence, he knows deep down that he cannot stay away.
The thought of pretending that everything is fine when it's not feels like a betrayal of the love you shared, a denial of the profound impact you had on his life. And so, with a heavy heart and a mind clouded by grief, Lando embarks on the journey back to the place where his heart still lingers, knowing that he must confront the pain head-on in order to find a semblance of peace.
Lando’s return to town is marked by exhaustion and dishevelment, the toll of a sleepless night evident in the shadows beneath his eyes and the weariness etched into his features. He barely manages to greet Isaac before retreating to the solitude of the lighthouse, seeking solace in the familiar embrace of its quiet sanctuary.
As Lando stands at the top of the lighthouse, his gaze fixed on the horizon, he can't shake the feeling of déjà vu that washes over him. The flickering beam of the lighthouse casts eerie shadows against the walls, the only sound the mournful cry of seagulls in the distance. It's as if he's been transported back in time, to a moment frozen in history, when tragedy and loss hung heavy in the air.
Tears stream down his cheeks, his sobs echoing in the empty space around him as he allows himself to surrender to the overwhelming tide of emotion.
In the stillness of the lighthouse, Lando is consumed by a sense of profound loss, his heart aching with the absence of the one he longs for. He sits there for hours, his thoughts consumed by memories of you, his soul yearning for the warmth of your presence.
In the dim light, Lando recalls the story you once shared with him, of the tragic love that had unfolded within these very walls decades ago. A woman, waiting faithfully for her lover's return, had spent countless nights standing vigil at the top of the lighthouse, her heart filled with hope and longing. But as the years passed and her lover failed to return, her hope turned to despair, her love transformed into bitter regret.
Now, as Lando stands in the same spot, he can't help but draw parallels between that long-ago tragedy and his own situation. Like the woman of the story, he finds himself clinging to a glimmer of hope, praying for a miracle that may never come. In his heart, he still holds onto the belief that you'll come back to him, that the news of your loss is just a bad dream from which he'll soon awaken.
With each passing moment, however, the harsh reality of your absence becomes more pronounced, the weight of grief bearing down on him like a leaden cloak. Yet, despite the pain that threatens to consume him, Lando refuses to give up hope. He remains steadfast in his vigil, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of your return, his heart yearning for the moment when he'll finally see you again.
His gaze sweeps over every corner of the lighthouse, wanting to etch every detail into his memory. The soft glow of the fading sunlight filters through the windows, casting a warm golden hue over the space. He takes a deep breath, trying to imprint the scent of saltwater and sea breeze into his mind.
As he moves around, his eyes fall upon a small alcove tucked away in a corner, hidden from plain sight. Something tugs at his instincts, urging him to investigate further. With cautious curiosity, he steps closer, his heart pounding in anticipation.
Reaching into the alcove, his fingers brush against something smooth and delicate. He pulls out a folded piece of paper, his breath catching in his throat as he realizes what it is. With trembling hands, he unfolds the note, his eyes scanning the words written in your handwriting.
Lando, I hope this note finds its way to you. It's strange how emotions can turn even the fearless into cowards. I couldn't bring myself to give you this letter in person, so I'm leaving it here, hoping it reaches you. I'm guessing you already know the truth, and that I'm no longer here by your side.
As he reads those words, he can hear your voice in his mind. The acknowledgment that you couldn't face him in person fills him with a mix of sadness and understanding. He feels a pang of guilt, wondering if there was something he could have done differently to make you feel more comfortable sharing your feelings with him. 
I don’t think a mere ‘I’m sorry’ is enough for keeping the truth from you. The reason why I did is because every moment with you felt like a dream, and in my dreams, my illness never existed. I’ve always cursed fate for the shitty hand it dealt me but I never would’ve gotten a chance to live something close to the perfect life if it wasn’t for fate. 
A melancholic smile tugs at his lips as he reflects on the sentiment expressed in your words. Each moment spent with you had indeed felt like a dream, a precious respite from the relentless demands of the racing world.
Before you came to town, I felt like a living corpse, waiting for my illness to take me under, but when I met you, it gave me a purpose to look forward to the next day. Being your tour guide, although I think it was because you just wanted to spend time with me, was probably the most I’ve lived ever since I was diagnosed. While I used your presence as an excuse to live like I used to, I didn’t ever imagine falling in love with anyone, much less a British racing driver. 
A wave of emotions wash over him as he reads your heartfelt confession, his own heart aching with a mixture of sadness and longing. Tears blur his vision as he continues reading, slightly tracing over your words with his finger. 
I wish I had the courage to say this to you face to face, to witness your reaction and perhaps hear you say the words back. But one thing I admire about you is your ability to live in the moment. So, in this moment, I want to tell you that I love you, Lando Norris, even though I'm no longer by your side. I hope our memories bring a smile to your face, just as they did to mine. 
Please, don’t blame yourself for any of this. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. You're the reason I found joy again, laughter again. Lando, you brought me back to life. Thank you. I'll love you always.
- Your favourite tour guide
As he reaches the final words of the note, he clutches it to his chest, feeling your presence close to him. In that moment, amidst the quiet solitude of the lighthouse, Lando finds a fleeting sense of peace amidst the storm of his emotions. He knows that no matter what the future holds, your love will always remain a guiding light in his heart.
With tears streaming down his cheeks, he whispers a silent promise to you, his beloved tour guide, into the salty breeze surrounding your favourite place. “I’ll never forget you. I’ll carry your love with me, always.” 
Then he adds with a sob wracking through his body, “I love you too.” 
As he sits in the lighthouse, Lando no longer waits for your return. Yet, he feels your love enveloping him, every word of the note etched into his heart. Though you may be gone, your presence lingers, filling the space around him with warmth and tenderness. In that moment, he finds solace in the memories of your love, knowing that you'll always be with him, no matter where life takes him.
Taglist: @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @mehrmonga @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @sya-skies @dreamingonbed @oliviah-25 @heylookwhoitis @unabashedkoalawasteland @inejghafawifesblog @poppyflower-22 @charizznorizz @booksandflowrs @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @randomnessis-mine-me @whatever7justchillin @kagome45 @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @timmy-wife1 @writtenbykirs @lew444 @kansas-kisses @barackosteaa @hellof-1 @itsbwokenln4 @nixily @reengard @candyeollies @customsbyjcg-blog @heeseungthel0ml @sweate-r-weathe-r @mattymybeloved @saturnbloom77 @ltotheucyy @ironmaiden1313
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girl, i wanna see you undo it
i wanna see you but you’re not mine.
how the other batboys react to a breakup
18+, mdni !!!!!!
readers can expect: a fem reader, lotttta angst, cursing, mentions of violence, sexually explicit scenes including mentions of penetration, oral, and masturbation. also tim drake being a creep via e-stalking but reader is aware of it and more or less okay with it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
your ex boyfriend, bruce wayne, was avoiding alfred.
his butler was insisting on signing him up for therapy, and bruce was dodging him, hard. he didn’t have it in him. he wouldn’t go pay a professional to hear how pathetic he was over the lack of you in his life. couldn’t. he’s found a much more effective way to get out his emotions.
one that involves his fists and a goon’s face.
it was probably cruel, these poor goons were just trying to feed their families, or something, but batman was indifferent.
he was now always nearing dangerously close to breaking his no-kill rule. almost always teetering over that edge. even with his own life. he’d head out in the batsuit, prowling the seediest streets of gotham, hoping, practically praying, for someone to do something illegal. he would put himself in the most deadly situations just to feel alive. wasn’t the healthiest solution, but.
did he care? no.
bruce was numb, unfeeling to those around him. he couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror, not at the stupid fuck who’d lost the love of his life. he’d lagged behind in his case solving, gordon was growing increasingly more concerned. he was rude to the paparazzi asking after you, almost able to hear your voice in his ear, telling him to be nicer to them, whacking him on the bicep. he’d throw his usual charity galas, sure, but would send dick or jason in his place to showboat. he didn’t have the patience to talk to reporters. didn’t want to show face if you weren’t there on his arm. you always made the social aspect much more bearable. would always help him relieve the stress of it all after the event had ended.
but did he still care about you? yes.
just like when you were dating, bruce taking care of you was second nature.
he wouldn’t dare cancel the flower deliveries he’d set up when the two of you were together. they appeared at your apartment door every week and a half, always something different, but always in your favorite colors. you couldn’t stay mad at them either, the flowers brightened up your kitchen so nicely. when you and bruce were dating, he’d merged your calendars, just so scheduling was easier. you’d since deleted the connection, but he somehow still knows when you have appointments, as you’ll come out of your building’s lobby to a sleek black wayne enterprises car. the chauffeur opening the car door for you silently. you’d take it over the subway every time, even if it was a little awkward.
the dating app you’d downloaded after the breakup kept glitching, never letting you text any of your matches back. if you cared more, you’d contact support, but it was so odd. everything else on your phone works perfectly fine! but you had a gut feeling it had something to do with your ex boyfriend.
bruce might’ve slipped oracle a few bills for her silence over that favor.
he tried not to think about the fact you were already willing to start dating again. he couldn’t fathom being with anyone else. could not possibly wrap his head around it. why would he want anyone when he could have you? when he had already had you? everyone else seemed..lackluster.
it’s the same reason he’d been celibate since the breakup. after you, he was tainted. he didn’t think he’d ever be able to have sex again without thinking of you. especially in his own house. the two of you had fucked on every surface possible, seriously. tried every position.
it’d been difficult just sleeping in his own bed when he used to share it with you. used to make your legs shake as you gripped at the sheets. would never make you beg for anything, eating you out until you couldn’t take it anymore. that’s when bruce would press you up against him, holding you up with his huge arms as he pounded into you, his balls slapping against your clit as you whined, barely able to form words.
he’d never been with anyone the way he had with you. so obviously he wasn’t even able to finish with his own hand. it was nothing, nothing compared to the way you felt. his imagination would never have him moaning the way you could. could never make him melt the way you oh so easily were able to, with just a look.
so he was numb. and bruce just figured that’s how he’d stay.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
your ex boyfriend, jason todd, throws his book across the room, flinching when it thuds against the wall opposite.
annoyed at the surprise romantic subplot, he huffs out a breath from behind his hands. he has to get over his sudden aversion to romance, but it feels impossible after losing you. he can’t watch any of his favorite movies, can only read a select few of his favorite books.
he barely even goes out anymore, mostly to avoid seeing couples on dates. the two of you loved going out together, loved going out to community events like concerts in the park, fairs in the summer. he missed accompanying you to your nephew’s t-ball games, watching you cheer and beam up at him in one of his old baseball hats.
so he barely goes out. he doesn’t have you with him!
he saw an elderly couple strolling in the park the other day. jason had promptly turned in the opposite direction, to avoid crumpling into a ball and sobbing or throwing up into the nearest trash can.
he’d gotten back onto his bike and rode home, going way over the speed limit. he didn’t care about being safe on it anymore, not when you weren’t there to ask him to or be his backpack. he missed the way you’d hold on to him, your thighs bracketing his torso as the bike roared. how at stoplights you’d rub your palms over his chest, grabbing his pecs with your gloved hands. your resulting giggle was muffled through your motorcycle helmet, but it was still the sweetest sound in the world to him.
but jason stopped bothering trying to function out in public after that, only ever really leaving his place for missions and to train at wayne manor.
and boy, had he been training. ever since the two of you had broken up, he’d been working out to the point of exhaustion.
barely peeling himself off of the floor after each workout, always heading straight to the shower to rinse the sweat off while he zoned out into the steam. after his workouts was the only time he would relieve himself. he’d hunch over with one hand propping him up opposite the tiled wall, the other fisted around his cock as he thought of your pretty smile, your gorgeous eyes, the meat of your thighs, the curve of your ass. how you’d clench around his cock with yet another orgasm, moaning his name into the mattress.
he’d finish, hard, his body shuddering, leaving him to be ashamed with himself.
he wasn’t allowed to do this, he wasn’t allowed to think of you like you were still his. all this and yet the pain in his muscles still didn’t ease the pain in his heart, the pain seeping into his bones whenever he thought about you.
jason was still hesitant to be around his siblings.
you had left your perfume in his bathroom, and while he knows it sounds crazy, he's been spraying it on his clothes. he misses the way they would smell like you after you’d borrow them. he still hadn’t touched one of his flannels, the one you loved to steal and loved to see him in. he didn’t see the point in wearing it if you weren’t there to see it.
the last time he’d seen damian, his little brother had loudly asked him why he “smelled girly.”
jason had turned bright red and mumbled something probably unintelligible before briskly walking away, bumping into the doorframe on his way out.
he’s been spraying your perfume on the pillow you’d always use too, snuggling it close to his chest like he used to with you while he fell asleep.
it’s definitely not the same, but it’s the closest jason has to the real thing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
tim drake, your ex boyfriend, swiveled in his desk chair, spinning back and forth. the monitors covering the wall above his desk were alive with various video feeds and social media websites.
@user892548276 was viewing your instagram story, a gorgeous selfie of you that tim had already screenshotted. he had plans for that later. @gothamite69 was liking your latest tweet, while @ilovedoggiess couldn’t get enough of your latest tiktok.
he knew he had to switch up the users so you’d think it was bots. you’d figure it out otherwise. too bad he had a thing for smart people.
he nodded, satisfied at the cctv feed of the street your apartment building was on, before throwing a hoodie on over his bare chest. tim strolled into the kitchen, his sweats slung low on his hips. he ran a hand through his hair, using the other to grab the coffee pot to refill his mug.
“hey, tim. whatcha up to?” jason leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed.
tim jumped, turning around.
“just some surveillance, nothing much.” he replied, hoping he sounded nonchalant.
“ohh, that case for bats?”
“mmhm.” tim cracked his knuckles, something of a nervous habit he’d developed after the breakup. and his serious lack of sleep.
“well, i won’t keep you. tell y/n i said hi!”
tim flinched at the mention of you as jason left in the direction of the garage. it’s not his brother’s fault. jay had been really busy with the outlaws lately, never home long enough to realize tim hadn’t brought you over in weeks. tim scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. maybe it was the exhaustion muddling things, but tim can’t remember the last time he’d had a full night’s sleep. it was already difficult falling asleep. it only made it worse that every time he did fall asleep he dreamed about you.
but dick had noticed. he had slowly transitioned tim’s assignments to mainly desk work. his older brother was probably worried about him being too tired on the field and getting hurt. but he hadn’t told bruce. tim preferred it that way. he didn’t need a big fuss about if he was okay or his performance level as a hero.
tim grabbed his mug, making his way back to his bedroom. he caught a glimpse of a dark figure in the window, spooking himself. he was on edge so much worse than usual. his reflection stared back at him, his face skinny and his eyebags dark against the pale skin of his cheeks.
tim shook his head, heading into his bedroom. he swayed a little, locking the door behind him. he set his mug on his desk, sitting down in his chair just in time to see you heading down the street.
he stood up so fast his chair rocketed back, hitting the wall. you usually don’t go out on thursday nights. is everything okay??
he types frantically, finding different angles to effectively follow you down the street, physically recoiling to see you stop at a restaurant. just another date.
you stopped, looking around, waving when you spot a blond guy walking towards you. tim enhances the best he can, zooming in on this asshole who thinks he’s good enough for you. tim scoffs out loud at the wrinkled shirt your date has on, looking ridiculous in comparison to your beauty.
the sundress you’re in is one of his favorites, red and white and flowery. he gulps down a sip of coffee at his screen when you turn around, the fabric hugging your body. he blinks, snapping out of it as your date ushers you into the restaurant. tim cracks his knuckles. he reaches for his phone, pulling up your contact. he itches to call you, to pull you out of the date you’re on, to make you think about him instead of that tool you’re with.
but he can’t. he shouldn’t.
he pulls up the screenshot of your story instead, staring at the selfie of you in his favorite sundress. his cock twitches against the fabric of his sweats. he can’t even count how many times he’s had you rutting against him with that dress hiked up to your waist.
he tosses his phone onto his bed, sitting back in his desk chair as he palms his cock, his brain full of thoughts of you.
you pressed up against him in a slinky dress as you slow dance at a wayne gala. waking up in your bed how the two of you fell asleep, naked, limbs intertwined. dancing in a gotham nightclub together, your hair in your face as you throw your arms up and swivel your hips in his direction in your shortest dress. the texts and pictures you’d been sending back and forth after the breakup, unable to let each other go.
tim throws his head back as he finishes, your name on his lips. his body rigid, the warm liquid all over his hands. he cleans himself off, staring into nothing until his computer dings at the motion detected on your street. you’re strutting down the sidewalk, the street empty. before you head inside your building, you stare into the cctv camera across the street. you wave, smiling coyly. tim sits up straighter, holding his breath. you hold up your thumb, and tim groans. that guy??
but you flip your thumb down at the camera, shaking your head. bad date.
tim whoops, beaming.
he shuts down his computer before flopping onto his bed, burrowing under the covers. five minutes later, he’s fast asleep as his coffee grows cold where it sits on his desk.
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'tis the damn season
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Genre: exes baggage; pseudo-relationship
Pairing: SEVENTEEN Kim Mingyu x Reader
Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content
Notes: 23k words - I got carried away, song prompt was 'tis the damn season by Taylor Swift.
Synopsis: Taking your boyfriend—with whom you recently broke up with—to your family home for the holidays and pretend you're still happily in love? Doesn't sound like the best idea but what could go wrong?
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The weather forecast sure wasn't lying when it said this winter would be the coldest in the last decade. As soon as you step outside, the chill has cut through your layers of clothing. It's a cold that feels even more piercing than the void in your soul right now.
The last few days, you've been trying to convince yourself that the chill you're feeling is just the season, nothing more. You were just being in denial, of course. As you walk to meet your sister in a cafe near your apartment, you can't help but think back to warmer times. Days when the sun seemed to shine a little brighter, when laughter was easy, and the world felt kinder to you and your heart. It's clear now that the warmth you miss isn't just from the absence of the sun. It's the absence of something, someone, who made everything feel less cold, less harsh.
“Blair!” you called out when you spotted your sister outside the cafe, her bundles of clothing unable to hide the massive baby bump. She looked warm and pretty, waving happily at you when she saw you.
“Hi!” she greeted pitchily when you approached her.
“Did you wait too long? Where’s your husband?”
“Oh, he went to get the gifts wrapped up,” she said, ushering you into the building.
“Their hot chocolate here is really good. You should try it.”
“Really? Good because I’m craving some chocolate right now.”
You found a table, ordered food, and started talking about the Christmas party in your family home this year. She laid down the plans and the segments which are the same as every year but you just had to talk about it. The discussion was going well until your sister reminded you of something important that totally slipped your mind. 
“Mingyu's coming too right?”
“I’m sorry, what?” you asked stupidly, blinking rapidly at her.
“Mingyu. Duh,” she scoffed, chuckling. 
Of course, Mingyu. “I'm not sure he can make it this year.”
Your sister's face contorted into a frown upon hearing that. She asked, “Why? What's wrong? Did you two break up?”
Yes, you did. But hearing the worry in her voice made you swallow the words. "He probably has other plans. I don't know, he might go home for the holidays this year."
She visibly relaxed, patting her chest and sighing. “Good lord, I thought you two broke up. That’s okay. He should spend time with his family if he can. I just asked because he’s been spending Christmas with us ever since you got together.”
Right, he has. Ever since you started dating, Mingyu has spent every Christmas with your family. The first time he did, it was because you found out his family lived abroad so you invited him over. He quickly got close with your family and soon became a regular presence during holidays and important family functions. Including last year, Mingyu has spent three Christmases in your family home. This year would have been his fourth if you didn't break up.
It hasn't been that long; only three weeks have passed since. You kept count because a four-year relationship is obviously not something you forget overnight. Not to mention the regrets you have about the breakup that would often leave you to wonder if it was the right thing to do.
"The kids will miss him, for sure," your sister commented to which you only replied with a hum of agreement. She didn't bring him up again and continued relaying the holiday plans to you. When it was all over and she'd had her third cup of hot chocolate, you walked out of the cafe with your sister promising to drive you back to your apartment.
The universe probably has it out for you though, because as soon as you step out of the cafe, the first person you bumped into was Mingyu.
"Mingyu!" your sister exclaimed, gasping behind the scarf that was covering half her face. "Good to see you. How are you?"
Mingyu looked surprised but he was quick to give your sister a hug. "I've been well. How are you?"
"Oh, I'm fine. Still alive and very pregnant."
"So, I see," Mingyu smiled sweetly, eyeing your sister's growing bump. "He should be coming out this month, right?"
"He is," your sister chimed. "Hopefully before or after the Christmas weekend, but, I'll leave it up to him to decide."
A smile crept up on your lips, touched by the fact that he remembered that bit. As the two of them had a quick catching up, you stood there awkwardly, looking around and refusing to meet Mingyu's gaze.
"Will you be joining us for Christmas this year?" your sister asked, making you glance at Mingyu at once. He was looking at you too, confusion written over his face. "She said you're going home to your family. That's good, but if you change your mind about it, you're welcome to the chateau, okay?"
"Uh," Mingyu chuckled awkwardly, tilting his head. "Yeah, I will. I mean... I might. I'll let you know."
"Good," your sister beamed just as her husband was pulling over at the side of the road. She turned to you. "Since Mingyu's here, I guess I won't have to drive you back anymore?" she said, nodding at you.
You grabbed her hands and gave her a pleading look. "But you promised!"
"I did, but your boyfriend's here now so I don't have to," she scoffed. To Mingyu, she said, "See you around, Gyu."
"Yes. See you around. Take care," Mingyu replied, waving at your sister as she got into the car.
The two of you stood there in silence, watching them drive away and disappear into the sea of cars on the road. You sighed when you couldn't see their car anymore, turning on your heel to walk away. Mingyu's voice called for you, making you stop to look at him.
He seemed hesitant at first, but he still spoke. "You haven't told them yet?"
"No," you replied, shaking your head. "I was going to, the timing was just off when the topic came up a while ago. Don't worry though, I'll sort this out."
"It's fine. No big deal," he said, nodding.
You evened your breathing, nodding at him. "Okay," you replied before turning to walk away.
The air was cold against your cheeks and your mouth was bitter from the cold exchange you just had with Mingyu. It was brief and hurried like neither of you wanted it. It was fleeting, almost as if it never happened at all. Now here you are, freezing and broken, wanting so bad to whine about the encounter but you can’t because that would be pathetic and completely out of line. In fact, you’re the last person who should complain about Mingyu being cold and distant. It was you who decided to break up with him in the first place.
“Y/N, wait!” came Mingyu’s voice, huffing as he ran after you down the sidewalk. You halted, your heart suddenly beating wildly, replacing your frustration with anxiousness. He stopped just a few feet from you. “Let me drive you home.”
What home? “I’m fine. It’s not that far.”
“Please, I insist,” he replied, reaching for you but not touching you. “You look cold.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, along with the voice in your head telling you not to get into his car. "If you don't mind, then... okay."
With a heavy step and your mind screaming about how stupid you are, you towed behind Mingyu all the way to where his car was parked by the sidewalk.
The ride was quiet; not that you were expecting any conversation. What would you talk about anyway? It shouldn’t feel weird since you haven’t spoken to him in weeks. But then again, it did feel weird to be together and not utter a word to each other. You used to have a lot to talk about; random topics, important stuff, petty fighting, and whatever it was that crossed your minds. Now you haven’t heard from him for three weeks until today. Funny how someone can be a huge part of your life today and become a stranger the next day. The chill on your hands and cheeks was gone but the cold in your heart was enough to make your soul shiver.
Mingyu took a deep breath as he pulled over at the side of the road right in front of your apartment complex. The car came to a stop but you sat there frozen in place, unable to open the door on your side or say anything to thank him for the ride. Mingyu can probably feel your discomfort and it felt awkward knowing that.
“For what it’s worth,” he began, breaking the ice. “I haven’t told anyone either.”
You cautiously glanced his way, smiling timidly when you saw that he was looking at you. His expression was difficult to discern. There was a smile on his lips but it didn’t reach his eyes.
You looked away and chuckled awkwardly. “I guess it’s not something that just randomly comes up in conversations, is it?”
“You’re right, it isn’t,” he agreed, nodding.
You were both quiet after that, unsure of what to say next. You’re thinking about getting off but it doesn’t feel right to leave just yet. It was as if something in the atmosphere was telling you the conversation was not over yet. Was it the atmosphere or was it your delusional brain fooling you into thinking there's something there when the truth is there isn't?
“You know, if you want…” he started again. You can tell he was hesitating because he wouldn’t even look at you. “I can go to the chateau with you.”
“The chateau?” you repeated, genuinely surprised. “With me? You mean for Christmas?”
“Yeah."
“Are you serious?” you asked incredulously, genuinely amazed at the sudden turn of events.
“Is that a ‘no’?” he probed. He seemed serious about his offer but you weren’t sure how to react to it. “I was thinking we could just go there for old times’ sake. I don’t have anything planned for Christmas anyway, and I would love to see them again one last time.”
One last time? This really is the end for you, isn’t it? “Wouldn’t it be weird?”
Mingyu chuckled sheepishly, scratching his nape. “Yeah, I guess it would. Sorry. Was it too much? Did I overstep?”
You shook your head in response but in your mind, you do agree that it was out of bounds. What kind of ex was he to ask if he could spend Christmas with your family after you two have broken up? And what kind of woman would you be if you said it was alright and he could come? Sure, he’s close to your family and has built a good relationship with them. Even so, it’s still awkward to have him come over for the holidays knowing the relationship you two had-- which was the reason he met your family in the first place, has come to an end.
“We broke up, Gyu. I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you replied and you meant it. Everyone in your family adored Mingyu, especially your parents. Now that you think about it, if they find out that you’ve broken up, it would break their hearts too. “I haven’t told them yet and it would upset them. Especially mom.”
Mingyu appeared to think for a moment, then his face contorted with hesitation. It baffled you how much you knew him; his cues, his expressions, and even his mannerisms. You knew exactly what they signified and how to respond to them. Right now, you know he has an idea that you may or may not like.
“What if…” he began, glancing at you tentatively. “What if we don’t tell them yet?”
“What?”
“What if we don’t tell them that we broke up? Telling them now would probably ruin the festive mood. Let’s just let the holidays pass. We could do that and spend Christmas together this year.”
Together... you pondered but you steeled your resolve. It was tempting, and you could shout to the world how much you miss him right now, but you wouldn't take your chances on something so risky.
“You’re not serious,” you deadpanned, imagining a whole lot of scenarios where his plan backfires terribly. It would be easier to just get back together than to pretend you’re still together in front of your whole family. “It’s stupid and they’ll see right through it.”
“So, you’re up for it as long as they don’t figure it out?” he grinned mischievously. God, you hate it when he makes that face. He does that when he knows he’s up to no good and he’s trying to rope you into it. But dear God, don’t you love it too; the fun that follows after he finally convinces you, the euphoria of being involved in some misconduct, and the thrill of doing something you never thought you would ever do.
“No.” You crossed your arms over your chest, looking away from him. “I get that you loved hanging out with them, but it’s risky and unnecessary. Besides, you don’t really have to be there. I already told my sister you’ll be spending Christmas with your family.”
“Alright, I'm sorry. Let’s not do it,” he gave up, raising his hands. “It was worth a shot though.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a no.” You forced a smile as you reached for the door and got ready to leave. “Thanks for the ride.”
“You’re welcome. Stay warm,” he replied with a small wave. You smiled again just as you were closing the door. Then you watched him drive away, sighing as soon as he was far enough.
"Stay warm? What is he a weatherman?" you muttered, shaking your head.
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You were right; the universe has it out for you. After that one unexpected encounter with Mingyu, you started seeing him everywhere—in the grocery store, at your favorite café, even just walking down the street. For such a big city, it seemed absurd how often you bumped into him lately, especially since you hadn't seen him once since the breakup. At first, you exchanged quick, polite greetings, but soon these random meetings became so frequent that even looking at each other felt awkward. That’s the tricky part about an amicable breakup: there’s no real reason to ignore each other. It would have been easier if he had been a jerk, or if you had done something unforgivable, but there was not enough reason to act like strangers.
“Hello, stranger. Good morning,” Mingyu greeted you as he saw you at the café counter. The sound of his voice made your heart skip a beat, but you forced yourself to roll your eyes at his goofy grin.
“Good morning to you too,” you replied, nodding in acknowledgment. Mingyu didn’t say anything else and quietly waited his turn.
He stood behind you in the queue, out of sight, but you could easily imagine him with his hands shoved into his coat pockets. Or maybe he was scrolling through his phone. Perhaps he was staring at the menu. Whatever he was doing, you hoped he wasn’t looking at you—observing the back of your neck, checking you out, or anything like that.
“Thank you,” you told the barista as she handed you the buzzer after you paid for your coffee. When you turned on your heel, you caught a glance of Mingyu who smiled at you when your eyes met. As you walked away, you heard him tell the barista his order.
Your feet hurriedly carried you to a four-seater table. Originally, you weren’t planning to linger in the café and ordered a takeout, but curiosity got the best of you after hearing Mingyu order for two people. Who was he having coffee with this early? Your eyes scanned the occupied tables, searching for any hint of Mingyu’s company. Anxiety began to build up in your chest as you considered the possibility that he might be here with another girl.
It could be anyone, you reassured yourself. Mingyu, being the social butterfly that he is, has friends everywhere. Throughout your relationship, you had lost count of the times you met Mingyu’s acquaintances. Most of these meetings happened in the streets or the hallways of the university, where he would bump into someone he knew and have quick small talks—not forgetting to introduce you as his girlfriend to those you were meeting for the first time. But still, in your opinion, it was a little too early to be meeting a friend for coffee.
As expected, Mingyu had a quick chat with the barista before leaving the counter. Hoping he wouldn’t notice you watching him, you feigned interest in your phone as he strolled across the room. The table he sat at wasl vacant, leading you to presume that the person he’s meeting hasn’t arrived yet. But barely a minute later, the chime of the door opening echoed through the café. The way Mingyu’s face lit up with a smile at the sight of the newcomer made you scowl. Glancing over your shoulder toward the entrance, you saw a woman walking in.
You held your breath, observing the tall, alluring figure approach your ex-boyfriend. Mingyu greeted her with a hug that lingered longer than you would have preferred. Recognizing the jealousy bubbling up inside you, you scoffed incredulously, shaking your head and tearing your gaze away from them. So what if he’s meeting a woman? What does it matter to you? So what if there’s a chance they’re involved romantically? It’s none of your business! He’s free to do whatever he wants!
“Isn’t it a little too soon to start seeing someone new, though?“ you muttered, a scowl knitting your brows together.
The buzzer startled you, prompting a sharp exhale as you rose to fetch your order. But when the barista called out your name in a voice louder than necessary, a flush of embarrassment tinged your cheeks. Mingyu must have heard that you were still around.
But really, why feel embarrassed? This is a public space, and you have every right to be here. Now that you think about it, you may be way in over your head to think your presence there is affecting him at all. You chided yourself internally for overthinking.
“Thanks,“ you said to the barista, sliding the buzzer back across the counter. “But seriously, what's the point of the buzzer if you're going to call out names anyway?“
The barista grinned sheepishly. “Honestly, I've wondered the same thing myself.“
If you want to know who Mingyu was hanging out with or if he's already moved on, you could simply ask. Not Mingyu, of course. Maybe inquire with mutual friends or someone close to him. Granted, easier said than done, but definitely less humiliating than the slightly awkward and borderline stalker-ish behavior you're exhibiting now.
Your phone started ringing as soon as you stepped out of the cafe. It was your father calling so you punched the answer button and pressed the device on your ear. “Hi Dad, what’s up?”
“Hi, sweetheart. Is Mingyu there?” was the first thing he said.
You glanced back inside the cafe where you could see Mingyu happily chatting with his ‘date’. “No. Why?”
“Mommy wants to know if he’s coming this weekend. Your sister was here a while ago and told us she met Mingyu last week. Your mom’s making final arrangements for the weekend so she wants the RSVP. You know how it goes.”
“Yeah, I know,” you exhaled, your eyes twitching at the sight of the girl’s hand around Mingyu’s arm. They have left their table and are now making their way out of the cafe with all smiles.
“Right, you do. Let us know once he made up his mind, alright? Or call your mom, whatever works for you.” your dad said.
You turned in the direction of your apartment before Mingyu could see you loitering outside the cafe. “I should just call her. I gotta tell her as soon as possible anyway,” you replied as you trekked back to your apartment.
“Good. It shouldn’t be so hard to ask him. I mean,” your father chuckled. “He’s been a regular presence in our home for three Christmases. At this point, he’s basically family.”
If they only knew the truth, they would never even mention his name around you. “Right. I gotta go, Dad. I’ll call mom later.”
“Alright, Bean. Love you.”
“Love you too, Dad,” you replied, briskly hanging up and tucking your phone back into your purse. You have made up your mind, so you turned on your heel and walked back to the cafe. Mingyu was standing by the sidewalk, waving a hand at the girl who he had just sent away in a taxi. The voices in your head were screeching and cursing at you for an impulsive decision that you were actively trying to execute. But there was no turning back.
“Kim Mingyu,” you blurted as soon as you reached your ex. Mingyu, who was just about to press his phone to his ear, turned to you in surprise. “Christmas at the chateau. Is it still on the table?”
Confusion flickered on his face. “Mom, let me call you back. I need a sec. Yeah, it’s her… I will. Bye, mom. Talk later.”
You took a deep breath, watching him put his phone away and walk closer to you. He then said, “It depends on you, y/n. Just say the word.”
You exhaled sharply, blowing steam from the warmth of your mouth. “Come with me, then. Spend Christmas with me–us. The family… My uh, family wants you there.”
Mingyu shrugged, lips lifting into a boyish smile. “What about you? Do you want me there?”
“Absolutely!” you replied so quickly, it was embarrassing. “Everyone would be delighted to see you so… That makes me want you to be there.”
There’s no way he didn’t notice how defensive you were. Mingyu’s grin didn’t falter, nodding cheekily as he said, “Okay then. If you insist.”
You couldn’t help the smile that tore through your lips, both annoyed and shy because you knew he was teasing you on purpose. “Stop that.”
“What?” he grinned. “You want me there. I guess I’ll be there then.”
“Shut up,” you gloated, shaking your head despite being unable to erase your smile. You started walking back to your apartment while Mingyu followed behind you. “Go away!”
He chuckled heartily, reaching for your elbow. “Come, y/n. I’ll take you home.”
“Fine,” you grumbled, letting him drag you back. Your heart has stopped raging and you are feeling much calmer now. “I have rules.”
“Okay.”
“And I have a condition.”
“Sure, sure. Let’s hear it in the car.”
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“What could go wrong?” you questioned, looking at your friend Daphne through the reflection in the mirror.
Daphne stared back at you with a dumbfounded expression, as if she had just heard the most ridiculous thing ever. “Those four words are harmless on their own. But if you put them together, you get the most dangerous sentence in the history of humanity.”
You scoffed, shaking your head as you turned to face her. “You’re so dramatic.”
“And you’re an idiot.”
“Thank you very much,” you quipped, then stood with your back facing her. “Now, would you please help me out of this dress? I don’t like it.”
“Me neither,” Daphne agreed before unzipping the dress at once.
“How about that one?” You pointed at a nice maroon cashmere dress. 
Daphne looked over it and nodded. “It’s cute. Try it on.”
You hurried back into the fitting room with the dress. It’s the morning before you leave for the chateau and you invited Daphne for a last-minute shopping. You wanted a dress for the Christmas dinner and you initially thought you’d find a decent one in your closet but there wasn’t any. That was not to say you didn’t have any nice dress–in fact, you had plenty. You just didn’t want to wear them for the occasion. It was as if everything in your closet was suddenly tacky, plain, or unattractive. You wanted new ones.
“You look amazing,” Daphne said as soon as you stepped out, although she had a deadpan expression.
“Thank you. I like it too.”
“Be honest. Are you shopping because you wanted to look cute for Mingyu?”
You laughed awkwardly. “No, I’m not.”
Daphne narrowed her eyes at you. “I can see right through you.”
You knew that but you were still adamant about denying it. “I don’t dress to impress, Daph. Especially not for a man.”
“You don’t, but this is Mingyu we're talking about so…” she retorted, raising an eyebrow at you.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to say. This dress is not for him,” you insisted, examining yourself in the mirror.
“It’s okay, girl. You can be honest with me.”
“I can?” you lilted, taking the bait Daphne threw to catch you.
“See, I knew it!” she snickered, rolling her eyes. “You want to impress your ex.”
You just pouted, not responding to her at all and just looking through your dress selections for more options. So what if you want to impress Mingyu? You’re not trying to get back with him. You just didn’t want him to think you were any less pretty after the breakup.
“y/n, I told you. Bringing him to the chateau is a bad idea.”
“It’s just one weekend,” you murmured, embarrassed but determined not to back out.
Daphne stood from the couch and crossed her arms over her chest. “One weekend where your heart and dignity is on the line. I don’t think it’s worth it.”
Daphne was right and you know it. But you had made up your mind–you are going to the chateau with Mingyu. You’ve made the preparations and told your parents he was coming. You’ve talked to Mingyu and put up clear boundaries. Plus you are driving up there in four hours. You can’t just back out at the last minute!
You can, you just didn’t have the intention to do so. Although it shamed you to admit it, a part of you wanted this. For old-time’s sake.
“I know you mean well but,” you paused, faced your friend, and sighed, “I’m sorry, Daph.”
Daphne sighed, shaking her head sternly as he approached you to tenderly squeeze your shoulders. “I guess I can’t change your mind, then?”
You responded by shaking your head, and Daphne pulled you into a hug.
“Just don’t go breaking your heart. It hasn’t even healed yet.”
“I’ll try my best.”
Your friend grumbled as she pulled away. Pouting, she pointed at the dress with a deep olive green shade. “Get this one too. Green looks majestic on you. And hurry. This place is getting too crowded.”
Grinning, you heeded her suggestion and grabbed said dress before disappearing into the fitting room once again. After shopping, you sat down for brunch with your friend and spent the morning chatting away. By the time you arrived back at your apartment, it was half past noon and you only had a couple minutes left before Mingyu would come to pick you up. You stuffed your new clothes in your luggage, inspected your boxes of presents for your family, and did your routine inspection of your flat to make sure everything was clean and tidy before you left.
Your doorbell rang right on time, signaling the arrival of Kim Mingyu. Part of you wanted to roll your eyes and say he can just come in like he used to. It’s not like you changed your passcode or anything. But then again, Mingyu is a gentleman. Even if he could, he wouldn’t just waltz in like he owns the place.
“Hi,” he beamed as soon as you pushed your door open. “You ready to go?”
“Yes, I just need help with these,” you replied, motioning to the huge bag of presents in your hands. Mingyu was quick to take it out of your hands, and then hold the door open for you while you went back in to take your luggage out. He even took that one out of your hand too.
“Is this all your stuff?” he asked as you closed your apartment door.
You nodded in response and so you both boarded the elevator. At the parking lot, his car was right outside the exit, waiting for the two of you. As soon as everything was loaded, he opened the car door for you with no hesitation. Dumbfounded, you quietly slipped through the door and sat on the shotgun. Mingyu then rounded the car to get inside the driver’s seat.
“Ready?” he asked, beaming. You looked away from him, pretending to be busy with the seatbelt as you responded to his question with a quiet nod.
The first few minutes of the car ride were spent with Mingyu talking to his mother on the phone. It was a pure and adorable conversation about the weather, meals, and their plans for the weekend. Mingyu’s mom was a kind woman who spoke in a stern but gentle manner. You don’t have that many memories with her mom, except for the time two years ago when Mingyu took you on a trip to his hometown. At the time, and in the few occasions that you did talk to her, she has shown nothing but adoration for you.
“Mmhmm, don’t worry. I will take good care of myself, Mom,” he said affectionately after his mom reminded him to keep himself warm and never get sick.
“But wait, if you’re on your way to their house, does that mean y/n is with you?” she asked from the other line. Your eyes widened at his phone that was hanging on the dashboard holder. Then you glanced at Mingyu who just scrunched his nose cutely at you. 
“Yes, she’s here. Say, ‘hi’.”
His mother started laughing heartily before saying, “Hi, dear. How are you?”
“Hello, Moth…er…” your speech trailed off, awkwardly glancing at Mingyu.
He just chuckled and gave you an encouraging nod before mouthing, “It’s okay.”
“Um… I’ve been well–” you stammered, clearing your throat before finishing, “–mother.”
“You’ve been well? Great. That’s great,” she chimed, her voice sweet and endearing. “I haven’t heard from you for a while. I thought you finally got sick of my son and left him for good.”
A hiccup escaped your throat, caught off-guard by her sudden comment. Mingyu on the other hand, started whining and said, “Mom! Why would you even say that?”
“Why not? She has every reason to dump you,” she replied. Mingyu grabbed the phone from the holder and tapped the loudspeaker button so he could talk to his mother in private.
“I’ll call you later. Stop worrying about me and take care of yourself, alright? Good. Let’s talk soon. Okay. Bye, love you!” He then tossed the device into a compartment and mumbled under his breath. You might not speak his language, but you knew he just cursed in his mother tongue.
“Sorry about her,” he said awkwardly. “You see, I haven’t told them either.”
“Hmm, I see.”
“She asks about you all the time, you know,” he added, eyes fixed on the road. “Even after we broke up.”
“What do you tell her?” you probed, genuinely curious. If she did ask about you all the time, how come he couldn’t tell her about the breakup?
“Nothing much. Just that you’re fine and doing stuff,” he said, to which you hummed in response and then turned your gaze to the road.
“Are you?” he questioned, making you look at him. He glanced at you briefly. “Are you fine and doing stuff?”
“Who, me?” you chuckled nervously. “Yeah, I’m fine and doing stuff.”
“Really? What have you been up to these days?”
“Oh, you know. Small gigs for family or friends. Nothing official or permanent yet. I’m still on a break.”
You and Mingyu met in college as sophomores. He took up accounting, while you were an art student majoring in interior design. After college, he applied for jobs in major firms and got accepted immediately. Then for the next six months, he worked as an assistant for an executive–which served as his training before he signed a full contract. You, on the other hand, didn’t have to worry about getting a job and securing a good salary. So you took your time, not making big decisions and enjoying your free time.
“So you’re freelancing?” Mingyu asked.
“I wouldn’t consider it freelancing since I’m not really available for hire any time. I just picked up some small projects for Allan’s house. The other is for Daphne’s department store. And I decorated for Sue as well. Remember her?”
“Yeah, I remember Sue. She was your new neighbor before I…” he stopped to clear his throat and finished, “Before I moved out.”
The sudden change of subject made your stomach turn. Looking back, you and Mingyu started living together in your fourth year of college. As spacious as it was, before he moved in, you had never eaten or cooked there. It was tidy, not because you purposely kept it clean, but because barely anyone stayed there who would make any mess– not even you who spent most of your time outside and only came home to sleep and bathe. Mingyu made it homely and warm.
At one point in your relationship, you told him you could never live there without him anymore. You could not imagine waking up without him on the bed, eating there without the food he made himself, or sitting in the living room without him to snuggle with. You told him that once and although he laughed about it, he also promised he would never leave you there alone. 
Long story short, he lied. Sure, you were the one who broke things off, but he was the one who left. That was the part that hurt most— the fact that he just agreed to break up without putting up a fight. You can only hope the best for him, you knew he was hoping the same for you anyway.
Attempting to dissolve the awkwardness, you decided to ask him about his job. “How was your job at the firm?”
“Oh, it’s great. I got regularized about two weeks ago,” he replied, looking pleased.
You knew that, one of your friends told you about it when it happened. “That’s amazing. I knew you would get the job.”
“Thanks. That’s immensely reassuring.”
You agree that it was such a reassuring thing to say, and you also regret not saying it when you were still together— when he needed to hear it the most.
“Good to know. You’ve always been easy to reassure,” you said as a passing comment. “I wish Blair was like that. I mean, honestly, how can she ask me to reassure her all the damn time but still remain pessimistic about everything?”
Mingyu chuckled heartily. “I guess the pregnancy is making her anxious, huh?”
You shook your head. “Not the pregnancy itself. It’s giving birth that she’s so scared of. Now that her due is near, everyone has been trying to give her pep talks.”
“It must be nerve-wracking.”
“I can’t say I know how it feels,” you chuckled derisively. “You wanna know what she’s naming the baby?”
“She picked one already?” he asked, glancing at you with an amazed smile.
“It’s Alfred.”
“Alfred?” Mingyu frowned, dismayed. The face he made was funny to you because you had the same negative reaction when you first heard it. 
“Yes. Alfred,” you snickered. "Tacky, isn't it?"
“No. I think it’s um…” He tilted his head a little. “It’s okay. Cool name. Alfred. Has a nice classy ring to it.”
You rolled your eyes, knowing he was just trying to patronize your sister. “She’s hell-bent on following our parents’ legacy by naming her children chronologically. We barely talked her out of naming the child Allan after my older brother.”
Mingyu hummed. “So if she had it her way, there would have been a ‘y/n Jr.’ in a couple of years.”
You giggled, leaning your head on the backrest as you started feeling drowsy. “I know, right? That would have been nice, and kinda weird too if you think about it.”
“So I almost became a godfather to an Allan Jr.?” he asked, bewildered. “Now that you mentioned it, it does sound a little strange for an Allan Jr. to exist as someone else’s child, not Allan’s himself.”
“Do you still want to be Alfred’s godfather?” you asked, remembering that Blair had requested Mingyu to be her son’s godfather when she first found out that she was pregnant. “I mean, would you still be up for it after we tell everyone that we’ve broken up?”
You saw Mingyu shrug. “As long as you’re okay with it.”
That was such a play-safe answer, and also a ridiculous one especially since it was between him and Blair as friends; you had nothing to do with it. But you also recognized why it would depend on your opinion. To begin with, it was because of you that he made friends with your family. He would want you to be comfortable with it more than anything. And of course, regardless of how great their relationship was, you knew your family would take your side no matter what. Each time you remember this fact, you are reminded of the disappointment and pain that your breakup would bring upon your loved ones.
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Something about the yuletide season tugs at your heartstrings each year. Everywhere you go, twinkling lights adorned the homes, business establishments, and the streets. Christmas brings a festive mood to the atmosphere and a unique blend of warmth, nostalgia, and anticipation that fills you with warmth despite the cold season. Your hometown is no different; each Christmas, it transforms into a wonderland of lights and decorations from house to house. In your own home, there is a warm sense of togetherness as your family gathers to share laughter, stories, and meals. 
You loved this mood, but this year is a little different. The festivity is still there, but the warmth of the familiar embrace has disappeared. The once-sweet scent of gingerbread in the air now had a bitter aftertaste to it that you knew was caused by the massive hole in your heart. And it didn’t help that the reason for this void was smiling next to you.
“Here we are,” he breathed, glancing sideways at you. It’s nightfall. The drive took four hours and you slept for most of it.
“The rules,” you reminded, making him nod. “Don’t forget them.”
“Alright, babe.”
“Babe?” you scowled, making Mingyu chuckle.
“Yes, ‘babe’,” he repeated, reaching for your hand on your thigh. “Come on, It’s only for the weekend.”
“Right. Only for the weekend,” you echoed, glancing at your joined hands.
Approaching the chateau, you marveled at the Christmas trees lined up along the driveway, and the glowing ornaments hanging on them. As you reach the entrance of the house, you can hear the low hum of amazement from Mingyu. Coming to the chateau always amazed him. Not that you can blame him. The chateau is magnificent— preserved and passed down through generations, it sits on a large estate and exudes grandeur and sophistication at every turn.
“Hello, sweetheart!” your mother greeted cheerfully, walking towards you with open arms.
You greeted her back with a smile, giving her a tight hug. As she approached Mingyu, you embraced the other members of your family who came out to greet you. 
“You arrived right on time for dinner,” your father stated, giving you a one-armed hug and a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. “I made your favorite.”
“You did?” you exclaimed, gleaming in delight. Your father puffed his chest proudly. “Aw, thank you!”
“You’re welcome, Bean,” he replied, evidently pleased to have elicited a good reaction from you. He patted your shoulder before greeting Mingyu. “Mingyu, my boy! Welcome back.”
“Good evening, sir,” Mingyu beamed, shaking hands with your father but the latter pulled him into a hug. 
“It’s been a while,” said your father, smiling contently. “How have you been, son?”
“Very well, sir,” your ex-boyfriend replied as he let your father lead him into the house. As they went, you could hear some of their conversation. 
“Not as well as I have,” your father chuckled cockily. “Did you know I’ve been hitting the gym these days? Putting in some literal leg work.”
“Nice. Although I already know. Dave told me you were there once every week.”
“Of course. And what an excellent PT he was, Dave. You have my thanks for introducing me to him.”
You caught your mother by the arm as she was passing by you. “Dad’s been going to the gym?”
“Don’t get me started, y/n,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. She leans closer to speak in a quieter voice. “I’m glad that he’s exercising because it’s good for his health, but this thing which he calls ‘gains’ is making him vain and more annoying than usual.”
You snorted, unable to stifle your laughter. Your mother sighed with exasperation before turning to walk away from you. At that moment, you spotted Mingyu with your cousins, making you assume he was snatched away from your father’s grasp. They laughed as they chatted, contributing to the warmth permeating the atmosphere of the entire house. You couldn’t help admiring Mingyu, completely taken by his natural charm and charisma that make it easy for him to be friends with everyone.
Oh, to be Kim Mingyu— outstanding, endearing, compassionate; loved by all who meet him. Visually, he’s remarkably handsome, with his tan skin and prominent features, brilliant eyes that gleam with kindness, and a beautiful smile that lights up his face. He’s quick-witted and intelligent, capable of holding conversations about various subjects at different levels of seriousness. His sense of humor is the cherry on top, bringing laughter and joy to every gathering. He’s incredibly thoughtful too, not to mention caring. Whether it's helping out with chores, lending a listening ear, or surprising them with thoughtful gestures, Mingyu loved your family as much as he loved you. This is why he was able to build a strong connection with them, something you would hate to break if you were to reveal that you two have broken up.
In your family’s eyes, Mingyu is more than just your boyfriend; he's a part of the family, someone they wholeheartedly embrace and admire. Sometimes you’d think you fumbled when you broke up with him but then you get a flashback of the events leading up to the breakup and you realize nobody is perfect; not even the Golden Boy, Kim Mingyu.
“Everything alright?” he asked upon approaching you. He had caught you staring from across the hall while he was catching up with your cousins.
“Yeah. Mom said we should all head to the dining hall for dinner.”
“Sure. Let’s go,” he beamed, placing a hand on your waist as you led the way.
You headed straight to the dining area for dinner, where you got to meet the rest of your family who will be joining you for the weekend. Most of your relatives hold their own Christmas celebrations, the others who don’t get invited for a holiday break by those who want to host. Your mother is an excellent host, and she always sends Christmas invitations to your extended family, regardless of whether they can make it or not. As a matter of fact, Christmas at the Chateau is quite a popular recurring event in your family. That being said, there are always unfamiliar faces each year, as well as regulars who are more tight-knit with your immediate family.
“Dear lord, if it isn’t y/n,” said Aunt Lydia, a distant aunt whom you’ve only met a handful of times because she lived halfway across the globe and only showed up for important family functions. “Last time I saw you, you were wearing braces and corrective glasses. Now you’re a beautiful lady. Isn’t that right, Lena?”
Lena, her daughter, gave you a smile and a quick peck on the cheek. “It’s been a while, y/n.”
“You returned her sweet smile and let her hold your hand. 'Good to see you, Auntie. It’s been a long time. Good to see you too, Lena.' Their eyes were fixed behind you, making you glance back only to realize they were looking at Mingyu. He was chatting with some of your cousins, laughing about things you couldn’t comprehend from where you were standing.
“Is that your boyfriend? Mingyu, was it?” your aunt asked.
Your brows lifted, mildly surprised. “You know about Mingyu?”
“Oh, I heard about him. All good things,” she giggled. “I heard you’ve been together a long time?”
“I guess you could say that,” you chuckled awkwardly. At that same moment, Mingyu caught you looking so he smiled at you and then excused himself from your cousins. “I should introduce you to him.”
As soon as Mingyu was within reach, he snaked an arm around your waist, and you placed a hand on his shoulder as you motioned to your relatives.
“Auntie, this is Mingyu. Mingyu, this is my aunt from Europe. You haven’t met her before because she rarely comes here.”
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Mingyu beamed, leaning towards the elder lady for a brief hug.
“And this is my cousin, Lena.”
“Lena. Nice to meet you,” Mingyu recited, shaking hands with your cousin. The reluctance on Lena’s face when Mingyu didn’t greet her the same way he greeted your aunt did not go unnoticed by you.
“Hi, Mingyu. Pleased to meet you,” she replied, chuckling nervously before backing away and fiddling with the ends of her blonde hair.
As observant as you were, you knew right then and there that Lena was attracted to your boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend, although no one knows that yet. Nonetheless, you didn’t think much about it. It’s Kim Mingyu after all, loved by all who meet him. You couldn’t blame anyone who fell for him at first sight as it was the case for you when you first met him all those years ago.
It was at a college party, your third party in a week because everyone was trying to hold one to welcome the new semester. You had just transferred from another campus, and your friends were showing you around. Mingyu was by the poolside of that big house, dunking students into the water as a penalty for losing against him in arm wrestling. He seemed to enjoy the attention too, not shying away from it but not being cocky about it either. Both boys and girls surrounded him, all of them wanting to be friends with the most popular sophomore on campus.
Boys think he is cool, and girls, well, they’re girls—enamored by the handsome specimen, just like you were at that very moment. Daphne was the one who told you his name and added in his reputation for turning down girls without batting an eye. Not that you had any plans of confessing to him anyway. He was cute, yes, but that’s all. In no time, he’ll become nothing but a passing crush.
You were wrong, of course. He talked to you that night, asking for your name. The rest was history.
“So, Mingyu, how was work? I heard you got promoted to regular. Is that true?”
“It is. And work is wonderful. The firm really does live up to its name.”
“As they should,” an uncle of yours chuckled. “The family has been doing business with them for the longest time. We wouldn’t trust them if they weren’t any good.”
“Oh, so you're in business with them?” Mingyu glanced at you, and you shrugged as if to say you had no idea.
Your father hummed in response. “That firm oversees the estate's accounts, as well as the company’s books. You didn’t know, did you?”
'No, sir. I had no idea,' Mingyu responded, astonished.
“The founder, Mr. Harrington, happened to be a family friend,” interjected your eldest brother, Allan, a hint of amusement in his voice. “There were talks about exploring partnerships elsewhere, but when we heard you were working there, Dad seemed to have a change of heart.”
Your father chuckled warmly, eyes twinkling as he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “That’s enough, Al. Don't put pressure on the young man.”
“Oh, right. Speaking of that, is anyone going to the wedding?”
“Whose wedding?”
“Mr. Harrington’s daughter’s wedding. You did receive the invitations, didn’t you?”
Dinner table conversations are often like this; topics that span from individual career pursuits to the latest news in business or finance. As you go through the food, the conversations also transition to mundane topics or updates on family members, such as children’s school performances or how your cousin’s car broke down in the middle of nowhere on their way to the chateau. And then it would circle back to more profound or intellectual subjects.
Mingyu blends in effortlessly in your bunch, almost as if he belonged there to begin with. Given a chance, Mingyu would become the most welcome member of your family if you married him.
“Pathetic,” you mumbled to yourself, ridiculing your line of thought. Marriage with Mingyu? Are you serious? How could you possibly entertain the idea of marrying someone who let you leave without so much as a fight?
Your mood soured in an instant, so you stood up from your seat and excused yourself from the table as they all chatted away. The dinner was over but everyone was too immersed in their conversations to leave the table. Your feet brought you to a balcony overlooking the back garden and the pool area of the estate. It was cold but the tea was warm. Just when you thought you were alone to wallow in self-pity and overthinking, Mingyu's endearing voice called out your name, and his warm jacket settled on your shoulders.
“Everything alright?” he asked, standing behind you as he held your arms. “You left so suddenly.“
“I’m fine. Just a little stuffed,“ you told him, looking far beyond the dark horizon. The night sky was clear, with stars twinkling faintly above. As you took a deep breath, you pondered about the farce you and Mingyu were attempting to pull off this weekend. Is it worth the risk? Like hell, is it even necessary? You should have just told them the truth long ago and got it over with.
“Hey,“ Mingyu prompted, noticing your gloomy disposition. “What’s going on in your pretty little mind?“
You loved it when Mingyu talked to you like this, but not this time though. Given the situation you are in, the only thing he’s making you feel right now is annoyance and frustration.
“Stop that, Gyu,“ you grumbled, pulling away from his embrace. “There’s no need to act all lovey-dovey and sweet.“
Mingyu chuckled and looked around. “And make them wonder why we’re distant? That’s totally gonna convince them that we’re happily in love.“
Happily in-love? How can he say these things so carelessly? “We’re fine. No one’s suspicious.“
“We’ve been here three hours,“ he countered. “Back there, your mom was asking me if you were okay. If we’re going to make this work, shouldn’t we act like we usually do?“
“Fine.“ You rolled your eyes. “Just stick to the rules.“
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The rules were simple: stay in character, respect boundaries, don't tell anyone, and end it once you leave the chateau. That’s it. You can’t just walk into this without precautions, can you? So you and Mingyu agreed on these rules, which are more your rules than his. Either way, you intend to be faithful to these rules as it is the only way to prevent this whole thing from spiraling out of control.
You went up first to freshen up and get ready for bed. You scanned the room to see how you’d share it with your ex. Considering Mingyu’s height, the long couch by the balcony would be cramped for him. Sure, he’d fit just fine but he’s the kind of sleeper who likes to sprawl on the bed and take up a lot of space. The floor would be cruel, but it has more space for sure.
“It’s better than the couch, right?” you mused aloud, making your way to the door to request an extra mattress. But hesitating, you withdrew your hand from the doorknob. The floor option suddenly seemed unwise because asking for an extra mattress would surely raise suspicions about the state of your relationship. Opting instead for the balcony couch, you arranged a pillow and sheets for Mingyu. Then after discreetly taking a sleeping pill, you passed out for the day.
Waking up and seeing Mingyu in the morning felt normal, that was until you realized he was across the room instead of right next to you in bed. You took a deep breath as you pushed yourself up, your eyes still fixed on Mingyu’s sleeping figure.
“Must’ve been uncomfortable,” you mumbled to yourself.
The bed you used to share was warm, familiar, and comforting. His arms were strong, providing security as you awoke to his scent and the enveloping warmth of his presence each morning. Sometimes he'd be up and out of bed before you were, and you'd wake up to the nice aroma of coffee waiting for you in the kitchen. Other times, you'd wake him with a simple breakfast of eggs and pancakes, your culinary expertise may have been limited, but your affection was boundless.
There were also times when you'd both wake too early, your passion spurred in the hush of early morning hours. He'd be gentle and quick, but you liked those kinds of mornings. You used to think the mornings you shared with Mingyu were mundane, uneventful, and slow, but looking back, those mornings now shimmer with newfound appreciation. Now that it's gone and you're missing it, you couldn't help but acknowledge the possibility that you might have taken it all for granted.
As you sat on the edge of your bed pondering, Mingyu stirred, taking a deep breath and letting out a long raspy exhale. He blinked at you several times, smiling once his vision became clearer.
“Good morning,” he sang. If you were still together, you’d immediately jump on him for a cuddle. Now that you’re not, it’s difficult to keep a straight face. You don't even know how to properly respond to that simple greeting.
“Morning,” you greeted back. Then again, if you were still together, he wouldn’t be sleeping on the couch to begin with. 
The land where the chateau sat is only a small part of the vast estate that your family owns. If one were to take a quick drive or a ten-minute hike up, they would find a meadow and a lake further ahead. As a child, you had picnics there often, especially in spring. In the winter, a white blanket of snow covers what used to be lush greenery, making it a perfect place for sledding. As such, it became a family activity every Christmas.
You stepped out of Mingyu’s car, blinking at the beautiful white canvas before you. Mingyu uttered a low “wow” as he approached you, smiling toothily while he tightened his padded jacket. You breathed the crisp air, exhaling through your mouth as you did. This wasn’t his first time sledding with your family, or experiencing the expansive landscape of your home. You had shared picnics with Mingyu in these areas, basking in the beauty of spring or summer. Those quiet moments are among your fondest memories with him.
“What do you think?” he asked, eyes gleaming. 
You shrugged. “I like it here better in spring.”
Behind you, you could hear the soft thuds of car doors being closed as your family members emerged from their vehicles.
“Oh, look! It’s perfect!” Blair cheered with her hands clasped together in delight. 
Your father chuckled heartily beside you and only then did you notice that he had caught up to you. He placed his arm over your shoulder, giving you a side hug as he said to your sister, “What did I tell you? That heavy snowfall last night will do us some good.”
Ecstatic, Blair dragged her husband towards the hill; the latter pulling a sled. Your cousins followed them, and your father too while you stood there pondering your choice to come here. Should you have just stayed with your mom and aunts back at home?
Allan approached Mingyu, giving him a nod. Mingyu smiled back, saying, “Hey, Al.”
“Hey. I don’t know how to say this but…” your brother paused, glanced over his shoulder at the excited children emerging from his car, and then shrugged at Mingyu. “Are you okay with a bunch of kids bothering you all day?”
“What does that even mean?” you interjected, although you weren’t part of the conversation.
“The boys want to go sledding with Mingyu,” Allan sighed, placing his hands on his waist. “Only with Mingyu.”
Mingyu chuckled. “It’s alright. I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?” Allan probed, looking somewhat apologetic. Mingyu nodded in assurance. “Okay, man. Thanks a lot.”
You watched as Mingyu approached your brother’s truck with a big goofy grin. Your nephews cheered his name before jumping into his arms at the same time. Mingyu laughingly carried the boys off the truck and you found yourself impressed by how strong he was to be able to carry two big kids. Then again, he had always been strong. He works out a lot and his efforts show in his toned physique. You know damn well how ungodly gorgeous he looks underneath those thick layers of clothing.
You gasped, shocked by your lewd thought. Shaking your head in an attempt to clear your mind, you muttered, “What the fuck.”
“Come again?” Allan asked cluelessly.
“I was talking to myself,” you deadpanned. Allan said he’ll follow the others up the hill so you nodded at him and told him you’ll stay to take pictures. He didn’t object to that so you grabbed the camera in the car and went to find a good spot to take pictures of everyone.
For the next hour, everyone went up and down the hill in their sleds, their cheers and laughter echoing through the air. Your father was dragging your little niece in her bright pink sled. Daniel and your cousins are on the other side of the hill, having a snowball fight. They would sometimes include you by throwing snowballs at you but you would dodge and threaten to punch them if they didn’t stop– as if your tiny fist would inflict any real pain. Even Allan who was just grinning around got roped into the fight. Blair didn’t give sledding another go after her first time because she didn’t find it ‘as fun as it looked’; so she’s down the hill making a snowman with her husband.
You made sure to take pictures of everyone. As you did, you found your lenses being directed at Mingyu more often than you’d like to admit. You wanted to be pretentious and say it was because he and the kids were adorable, but you knew that you just couldn’t help yourself. He was just too close to your heart and of course, him with kids is impossibly adorable.
“y/n! Show me the pictures!” your sister called so you trekked the snow back to where the cars were parked.
You let them scan through the photos and left to go up and meet your niece and father halfway up the hill. Your father seemed tired so you thought it was best to let him rest and take the kid off his hands.
“I think she’s tired too,” your father said, chuckling as you climbed down. “She must have snoozed on her sled twice.”
“She did?” you asked, turning to your niece. “Did you snooze, baby? Are you tired? Do you wanna go home with Mom?”
The darling little girl just shook her head, her eyes focused on her parents. When they spotted you, your brother-in-law happily took her off your arms. There was a quick chat before they decided to go back to the chateau and call it a day. Everyone followed suit, running down the hill back to the cars after being called back—everyone, except for Mingyu who walked down the other side of the hill instead. You decided to follow him, stopping Allan on your way.
“Where is he going?” you asked your panting brother. He’s got one kid on his shoulders and the other on the sled he was dragging.
“Who?” he asked, following your gaze. “Oh, Mingyu? Charlie’s sled went missing. He said he'd go find it.”
You went after Mingyu, hiking up the hill and trekking down to the other side where you found him heading straight into the sparse woods. Surely the sled didn’t go as far as into the woods, right?
“Kim Mingyu!” you called out, running after him. Your feet sank into the snow as you did, making it a little hard to run fast. “Mingyu!”
Mingyu stopped upon hearing you, turning to look at you and wave. “Come here!”
You frowned when you noticed that he was holding a sled. “Where are you going?”
He didn’t respond but instead, waited for you to catch up to him. As soon as you did, you pointed to what he was holding. “Is that Charlie’s?”
“Yeah, it slid all the way to that tree over there,” he replied, pointing to the tree but you didn’t bother to look.
“And? Where else are you planning to go? Everyone’s leaving.”
Still grinning goofily, he grabbed your gloved hand and said, “Let’s go to the lake.”
“The lake?”
“Yeah. I saw it from up the hill. It looked awesome.”
You scoffed. “It’s probably frozen.”
“I know. Let’s check it out,” he chimed, dragging you but you didn’t budge. That made him stop and glance back at you with a pout.
You looked away, feigning indifference. “It’s this way.” 
Mingyu trailed behind you, his hand still tight around yours. While you waded through the snowy path, you tried to remember if you had ever gone to the lake with Mingyu before. You have, a few times, but not in winter. Usually, there was nothing special or pretty about it in winter. As kids, you were forbidden from playing at the frozen lake in case the ice broke and you fell in, so you have never tried it before. There was just no reason to go there, except maybe to look around and pass the time.
“Oh, wow,” he exclaimed upon arriving at the spot. 
As expected, it was frozen. It wasn't even the picturesque, crystal-clear kind of frozen, but rather a boring, unremarkable freeze.
Disappointed, you said, “Nothing to see here."
“Are you kidding me? It looks really cool,” he replied, but you knew he was just being polite.
“It’s really not,” you deadpanned. 
Mingyu chuckled. “You’re right. It’s not.”
“Okay. Let’s go then,” you retorted, tugging him back to where you came from.
Mingyu resisted, pulling back with enough force to make you lose your balance and bump into him. He held you in place, his face close and his breathing warm against your cheek. With a goofy grin, he asked, “Ever ice-skated on a lake before?”
“No, and this is not that kind of lake.”
“You haven’t ice-skated on a lake before?” he asked incredulously. “But there’s a lake right here.”
“This is a dangerous lake.”
“Why?”
“Because...” you trailed off, searching for an explanation. “To be honest, I'm not even sure why.”
The massive grin on Mingyu’s lips made you roll your eyes. It was the kind of expression that said he wanted to go ice skating on the lake. You’re not even wearing the right shoes. You don’t know how deep the lake goes, and you have no idea how thick the ice has gotten.
“Don’t be stupid, Gyu.”
“Come on! It's gonna be fun!”
“I think you meant 'dangerous'.”
“I’ll keep you safe,” he promised.
That made you grumble and stomp your feet a few times. “Ugh, fine!”
It was like releasing a dog from its leash in a park. Hand in hand, Mingyu excitedly rushed to the edge of the lake, where he cautiously tested the ice, first one foot and then the other. He took a few steps around and one small jump– then a big one that caused a surge of panic to grip you.
“Stop! What if it falls through?”
Mingyu threw his head back laughing. “It’s alright, the ice is pretty thick. Come here.”
You stared at the hand he was offering and then shook your head. Mingyu let out a small tut, seizing your hand firmly and guiding you toward the ice. You trod carefully as you went, looking down below at the murky water and wondering if it was solid enough to hold the two of you.
As you approached the center of the lake, Mingyu released your hand momentarily to zip up your jacket snugly. You pouted as he cupped your cheeks, still protesting at his idea of 'fun'.
"Just relax. I've got you. You'll be fine," he reassured, adjusting your beanie to shield your ears from the biting cold. You nodded, gradually getting used to the icy ground beneath your feet.
Just as you began to ease into the moment, breathing freely and feeling the tension in your muscles dissipate, Mingyu suddenly rushed forward, dragging you along with him toward the center. Panic surged through your veins, your heart racing uncontrollably.
Your shrieks tore through the quiet air, overlapping with Mingyu’s ecstatic laughter. You clung to his hand tightly, scared for good reason. If the ice breaks and you fall in, at least you won’t die alone–that was what you were thinking as you closed your eyes and let Mingyu run around in circles. And while you grappled with the chaos in your head, his reassuring reverberated through your ears.
"It's okay," he consoled, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I've got you! Open your eyes, baby."
You did as he asked, reluctantly opening your eyes to be greeted by a broad, toothy grin from your charming companion. Was he really persuasive? Or were you simply taken aback by the endearment he just used on you? Yes, you know he had been calling you that ever since you got here so to avoid raising suspicions on your pretense, but why did it send a surge of nostalgia this time?
It almost felt like the relief of finally experiencing something you had missed so dearly.
“See? How fun is this?” he shouted, still running with you.
"Not fun at all!"
"Really?" he asked again, skeptical. "Not even a little?"
Of all the people you have met so far in your life, Mingyu had the most contagious smile which was why he had you smiling in no time. Before you knew it, you were running around the frozen lake, fear and anxiety long forgotten. Your cheeks were flushed from the cold, and sore from laughing too much. Your shrieks echoed across the icy surface as he took his turn chasing after you. You didn't even notice how your goofing around has turned into a spontaneous game of tag.
Lost in the moment, you lost track of time, the hours slipping away unnoticed as you enjoyed each other's company and indulged the children in you.
“Caught you!” he exclaimed triumphantly, tackling near the edge of the lake, and sending both of you tumbling onto the soft snow.
You lay there breathless and giggling, feeling both exhilarated and euphoric from your shenanigans. Glancing sideways at him, you found him already looking at you, and both of you burst into laughter at each other's flushed faces. The chill of the snow against your neck soon became unbearable, prompting you to sit up. With a playful tap on Mingyu's chest, you urged him to do the same.
“God, I’m so tired,” he complained but the smile on his face never left.
“Yeah. You’re crazy energetic,” you retorted, letting out a long exhale.
Mingyu scooted closer to you, wrapping a hand around your waist. “But you had fun.”
Rolling your eyes, you leaned on his chest, comfortable in his warmth. “Yeah. I did.”
“Good. Let’s do that.”
“Do what?” you hummed, closing your eyes to bask in the warmth that was engulfing you.
“Oh, you know. Loosen up and take things easy,” he replied and that made you pull away to look at him.
“Meaning…?”
“Meaning we should stop worrying about it.” He tapped your nose affectionately, a warm smile on his lips. “It’s Christmas. Let's have fun.”
You sighed, the weight of your concerns heavy in your mind. "But that's not why we came here."
"I know," he acknowledged with a groan. "We'll get there eventually. For now, let's just... you know... forget about it. Just for now."
He was staring at you intently and you couldn’t help but stare right back. Everything about this moment was overwhelming—the cold, his warmth, his gaze, the proximity—everything. You both sat there face to face, quietly staring and speaking with your eyes only. At one point, it seemed as if you had come to a mutual decision on something, but you sat there waiting for him to make the first move.
“God, you look so beautiful in this light.”
Your heart somersaulted in your chest, but you were so tensed that you tried to humor the nerves away. “Did you just quote Ed Sheeran?”
Mingyu’s brows furrowed slightly, but his affectionate gaze remained. “And you’re so adorable too.”
At this point, your soul has left your body out of sheer joy. Still, you couldn't resist teasing him in response. “Duh, Mingyu. Tell me something I don’t know?”
“I could kiss you right now.”
You exhaled sharply. “Well, don’t be shy now.”
As Mingyu leaned in for a kiss, you closed your eyes in anticipation. You could already feel his breath fanning your face but before his lips could meet yours, the sound of car horns honking nearby shattered the beautiful air enveloping you. Startled, a loud gasp escaped your lips while Mingyu swiftly withdrew.
“What the actual f–” You stood up and spun to see whoever it was and spotted a pickup truck from a distance. Daniel’s head popped out from the window of the driver’s seat, followed by his shouting.
“What are you guys doing out here?” your brother called out, pressing on the horns again. “Everyone’s looking for you back at the chateau!”
You grumbled, stomping your feet as you walked towards the vehicle looking annoyed. Mingyu grabbed the sled he was looking for earlier and followed behind you. When you reached the truck, you stood by Daniel’s window with a deep scowl.
“Everyone thought you guys were dead or something,” he quipped, rolling his windows up just before you started pounding on it irritably.
“What? Can’t I have some alone time with my boyfriend?” you huffed, kicking the tire when you failed to open the door.
Daniel was making faces at you from inside the car while Mingyu chuckled behind you. He gently squeezed your shoulder to calm you down, but you glared at him instead. Mingyu instinctively backed away, raising his hands in surrender.
"Surely you won't take it out on your boyfriend, will you?" he asked with a coy grin. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and seeing this, Mingyu puffed out his chest proudly and wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. "I am your boyfriend, right?"
“Gosh, men are so annoying,” you whined, reaching for the backseat door so you could climb into the car.
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Making gingerbread houses is a serious activity in your house; it was a while competition between you, your sister, and everyone else who wants to challenge. As such, it has become your favorite activity since you were a child. You were amazing at it and would always come out on top with your intricate designs and sturdy outputs. That was when Mingyu wasn’t in the picture yet. Now, you’ve been on a lose streak for three Christmases in a row and this year doesn’t look promising either. 
“Mingyu! Careful with that!” you warned as he placed the roofing for your house. Mingyu froze mid-air, glancing at you nervously.
“I think you should do it,” he pleaded, chuckling nervously.
You rolled your eyes, grumbling as you carefully took the piece from his hand. Mingyu is a good cook, but pastry? Definitely not his forte. His big hands are among your favorite features of his, but it’s useless in any activity that requires careful handling and finesse.
Blair rounded the counter and approached you. She took a big sniff and said, “Hmm, it smells like a loser over here.”
You scoffed, nudging her elbow. “Go away!”
With immense focus, you placed the roofing on your gingerbread house successfully, dusting your hands contently right after. 
“You’re so good at this,” Mingyu whispered next to you, beaming. Proud, you scrunched your nose at him and opened your mouth when he offered a piece of bread for you to eat. 
“Daniel, dear,” your mother called from the doorway, catching everyone’s attention. “Come help with the tree.”
Daniel skipped across the room to your mom, making your cousin Sydney sigh in relief of finally getting rid of the blackhole in her team. 
“Mingyu, you too please.”
Mingyu nodded at her and turned to you to say, “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” you replied, not even glancing at him as he scooped your cheek for a kiss. “It’s okay if you don’t. I might have a bigger chance of winning if you don’t.”
“Where are they going?” Lena asked, eyeing the doorway.
“Mom’s probably setting up the Christmas tree for tonight,” you replied.
“Why? Isn’t there already a Christmas tree?” Lena questioned.
“It’s a chateau tradition,” Sydney explained. “Before Christmas Eve dinner, we decorate a tree as a whole family using special ornaments.”
“Special ornaments?”
Aunt Lydia, interjected, “Ornaments that hold sentimental value, Lena. This house has been in the family for generations and has seen over a hundred Christmases. Our family loves to look back and think about the history that has shaped this very family into who we are today.”
Lena hummed in amazement. “That’s so awesome and special.”
“It is.” You smiled, mirroring the fond looks on Blair and Sydney’s faces.
“It’s pompous if I do say so myself,” said a familiar voice entering the kitchen hall. You spun to see your Aunt Sylvie walk in with a charismatic air about her. She sauntered in, heels clicking on the floors. “It’s a reminder that we are high-born snobs. Trust fund babies who never have to work a day in our life and still live a life of luxury.”
“Oh, god,” Sydney muttered beside you, looking mortified. “She’s so late.”
“Hello, children,” she lilted, winking at you specifically when you met her gaze. Your heart felt full, forever in awe of your favorite relative.
“Sylvie?” your Aunt Lydia exclaimed.
Sylvie’s smile got redirected. “How nice of you to finally join us, Lydia. I couldn’t believe it when they told me.”
They both laughed as they embraced. Lena’s mom grinned playfully at aunt Sylvie. “Still living the high-born snobbish life?”
Sylvie tutted confidently. “It’s what I do best.” 
At first glance, Aunt Sylvie is no different from the rest of the family, but she’s the wild card. In a family known for its polished manners and prestigious accomplishments, she stood out like a rose in a garden of daisies. She lives a privileged life while staying unapologetically herself. Her laugh was always loud and infectious, her stories filled with both gossip and adventures.
“Going for the win this year, huh?” Aunt Sylvie remarked as she examined your work.
“That’s the plan,” you replied with a grin.
“Well, good luck. You have my vote, no matter what,” she promised, reaching for the wine bottle on the counter.
Blair protested, “Hey, that’s cheating!”
“Playing favorites, that’s what it is,” Sydney pouted. Aunt Sylvie giggled, sauntering over to Sydney and planting a playful kiss on her cheek. Sydney just rolled her eyes.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’re still my favorite daughter,” Sylvie teased, tucking a strand of Sydney’s hair behind her ear before strolling away with her glass of red wine.
“That’s because I’m your only daughter!” Sydney shouted after her, a smile tugging at her lips as her mother exited the kitchen.
Mingyu, Daniel, and Sydney’s boyfriend, Luke, burst into the kitchen, their laughter and chatter filling the room. Everything was going smoothly until Mingyu bounded over to you, knocking over your intricately decorated gingerbread Christmas tree. The tree, which you had painstakingly adorned with candy ornaments and icing, was supposed to be the crowning jewel of your work. Now, it lay in a heap of crumbs on the kitchen floor.
“Oh my god,” you muttered, staring blankly at the mess. “Kim Mingyu…”
“Oh, damn, did I do that?” he asked, looking genuinely bewildered. Neither of you could figure out how it happened; one moment it was standing, and the next it was on the floor.
Allan’s wife looked over, her eyes widening at the sight. “Oh, no, Y/N,” she exclaimed sympathetically.
Everyone else hurried over to see what had happened, their faces mirroring the same look of pity for you.
“I knew it smelled like a loser over here,” Blair snickered, unable to resist the jab.
The room fell silent for a moment before you managed a rueful smile. “Well, there goes my masterpiece.”
Mingyu sheepishly picked up a piece of gingerbread. “I’ll help you rebuild it,” he offered, his tone earnest and apologetic.
Daniel couldn’t hide his grin. “And destroy it again for good measure.”
The room was soon filled with laughter and playful teasing, all at your expense. You just took it in stride, although you were a little disheartened. Amidst all that, Mingyu pulled you into a warm hug, even kissing the top of your head.
“That’s okay, baby. Winning is great, but it’s nothing if you didn’t have fun doing it together,” he consoled you, although you could tell he was just teasing you like everyone else.
“Go away,” you scolded playfully.
It was as if you had never broken up at all. You shared more than just the playful moments at the lake or sweet displays of affection in the kitchen. During the family tree decorating, you and Mingyu were wrapped in your own world, laughing and giggling as you both struggled to untangle a string of lights—only to end up getting scolded for not helping enough.
For the Christmas Eve dinner, you wore an elegant green dress that received a dramatic round of applause from Mingyu. He stood up, clapping with exaggerated enthusiasm and making everyone laugh. You joined your family at a beautifully set dinner table, sharing stories and laughter over the delicious meal. You sat opposite Mingyu, which gave you both the perfect excuse to exchange loving glances throughout the evening, basking in the warmth and acceptance from everyone around you.
After dinner where Blair won the gingerbread house contest for the second time in a row, everyone gathered in the movie room, snuggling together under warm blankets. Your head rested on Mingyu’s chest, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulder. Both of you felt content and at home in each other’s embrace. As the movie ended, the younger kids were tucked into bed, and the older family members began to retire to their rooms. You and your cousins had other plans.
In the cozy warmth of the game room, where you and the other young adults gathered for some unchaperoned bonding time of your own, the game of charades became wildly competitive and chaotic. You and Sydney huddled together on a big sofa, guessing the answers that the boys were acting out, groaning and cheering with everyone else as the game progressed. Drinks flowed freely, light and festive, keeping spirits high.
At one point, when the game got boring, everyone settled in front of the fire, sharing stories and cracking jokes. The flickering flames cast a warm glow on your faces, and the room was filled with the comforting sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. Everything was perfect, beautiful new memories were being made.
And then Mingyu managed to convince you to go out for a walk. Bundled up in sweaters and padded jackets, you clung to his arm for support, letting the cool winter evening sober you up. Mingyu kept cracking jokes, and you laughed like you were in a stand-up comedy bar. This went on until both of you reached the pool and decided to turn back.
The weather was cold, but the atmosphere was warm and sweet. And the smell—strangely enough, you enjoyed the sweet, smoky scent coming from the chimneys, much like how some people find the earthy smell after a rain shower pleasant and refreshing.
“What are you thinking about?" Mingyu asked, slinging his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close.
“Nothing, I…” you took a deep breath as you started walking back to the main house. "I just love Christmas.”
“I can see why,” he chuckled lightly, pressing a quick peck on the side of your head.
You rolled your eyes and moved your head a few inches away from him. “Hey, that’s rule number one.”
“Actually, it’s rule number two,” he corrected, grinning. “And can I please break it?”
“You’re only asking me that now? Literally, after you were done breaking it?”
Mingyu nodded with exaggerated seriousness. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Gosh, you’re so…” you huffed incredulously, taking his arm off your shoulder and walking ahead of him.
“Wait. Let’s go together,” he called, chuckling.
When he caught up to you, he held your hand and intertwined your fingers. His smile was warm, and also very goofy. You scoffed and laughed, unable to hide how charmed you were by him. Quietly, you trekked back to the house, your breaths visible in the cold air.
“Hot tub?” he asked as soon as you were in front of your bedroom door.
You were taken aback by the offer. “What?”
Mingyu chuckled nervously, equally flustered. He then cleared his throat and tried to keep a straight face. “I don’t mean… that. I meant you should get a warm bath in the hot tub before… Ugh, fuck.”
Mingyu turned away, burying his face in his palms and muttering curses under his breath. You, on the other hand, were still processing the situation. You were shocked that he was offering the hot tub, only to find out he didn’t mean it the way you understood it.
“God, it’s in my head now.”
“What is?” you asked, belatedly realizing it was a bad question. You should have known what he was trying to say. The hot tub in the bathroom of your bedroom was a very intimate place for the two of you. A hiccup escaped your lips as you put two and two together.
Awkwardly, you pushed the door open and said, “I’m gonna go ahead.”
You walked briskly inside the bedroom, eager to avoid being in the same space as Mingyu. But then you turned around and saw that he had walked inside too. How did you even forget that you were sharing this room?
There was a moment of silence as you both stood there, tension wrapping the room. Mingyu finally broke the ice, his voice soft and hesitant. “Look, I’m sorry if I made things weird.”
You sighed, shaking your head. “No, it’s okay. I just… didn’t expect it.”
Mingyu took a step closer. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I didn’t even mean it that way.”
You smiled faintly, feeling the warmth of his sincerity. “I know. Thanks, Mingyu.”
He grinned, the awkwardness slowly melting away. “How about I start the bath for you?”
You nodded, appreciating the gesture. “That would be nice.”
Mingyu moved to the bathroom, and you heard the sound of water filling the tub. You took off your jacket and sat on the edge of the bed, your mind swirling with thoughts. Soon, Mingyu returned, his eyes gentle as he said, “It’s ready.”
You stood up and walked to the bathroom, pausing at the doorway. “Do you want to join me? I mean, it was cold out there.”
Mingyu’s eyes widened in surprise, but then he smiled softly. “You said that’s rule number two.”
You nodded. “I know.”
“Is it alright with you?”
You nodded again, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation. “It is.”
Both of you undressed and slipped into the hot tub, the warm water enveloping you in a soothing embrace. Mingyu sat across from you, his eyes never leaving yours. The intimacy of the moment was undeniable, the heat of the water matched by the growing warmth between you.
Mingyu reached out, his hand finding yours under the water. “I’ve missed this,” he murmured.
I’ve missed you, you screamed in your head. You could never say it out loud, so you just squeezed his hand gently and said, “Me too.”
The bath was a haven of warmth and quiet conversation, the water relaxing your muscles and easing the tension between you. After a while, you both got out and dried off, slipping into comfortable pajamas.
Back in the bedroom, you climbed into bed, tapping the space beside you when you saw Mingyu heading for the couch. He took your invitation and slid in beside you. You both lay there in the dark, the silence a total contrast to the chaos in your head. Finally, he turned towards you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you close.
“Goodnight,” he whispered, his breath warm against your neck.
“Goodnight,” you replied, your voice soft and content.
As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, the awkwardness of the evening was replaced by a comforting sense of closeness. The warmth of his embrace and the sound of his breathing lulled you to sleep, both of you feeling at home in each other’s arms once more.
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Waking up beside Mingyu felt like stepping back in time, the familiarity of his presence was bittersweet. He lay there, peaceful in the soft glow of the winter morning. You were just beginning to forget how it felt like to wake up next to him, now here he is, looking as breathtaking as you remembered him to be. This whole pseudo-relationship setup truly was a bad idea because you can already picture yourself resetting your moving-on process back to Day 1.
Or maybe, by the end of this, there will be no need to forget and move on, you pondered to yourself, feeling hopeful.
You fought with the urge to reach out and touch him, to let your fingers trace the lines of his face, reminding yourself that you were no longer in that kind of relationship. After all, you had made it clear that this was no longer that kind of relationship.
But wait… Why were you so hesitant about touching him? You were literally in the same hot tub the night before, bare and naked. Why would you be so wary about something as innocent as running your fingers through his hair? Hadn't you already crossed boundaries far more intimate than this?
Swallowing your pride and the lump in your throat, you slowly extended a hand to touch his face. Slowly, carefully, making sure you don’t wake him up. Just as you were feeling the warmth emanating from his skin, the ringing of your phone on the nightstand snapped you back into reality. Cursing under your breath, you snatched the phone from the nightstand, the name "Daphne" flashing insistently on the screen.
Your movements made Mingyu stir, groaning lowly as he stretched his legs out; sleepy eyes directed at you. With a raspy voice, he said, “Hi.”
“Hi. Sorry,” you mouthed, phone pressed on your ear. “Daph, hello. What’s up?”
“Sorry to bother you while you’re spending the holidays with your beau– oh, ex-beau,” she teased, snickering from the other line. “How is it? Have you got back together yet?”
“Please shut up,” you laughed nervously, eyeing Mingyu. You excused yourself and headed to the bathroom to speak with your friend in private.
“I guess it’s not going so well, huh?” she asked just as you were locking the bathroom door.
“Daph, the purpose of this trip is not to get back together,” you insisted, rolling your eyes although she could not see it. “Where did you even get that idea?”
Grumbling, you snatched your toothbrush and put toothpaste on it to clean your teeth with.
“I don’t know. Maybe from my exuberant interior designer who was just shopping with me the other day,” she retorted, poking fun at you. “Alright, I’m sorry. I was just teasing you. I actually called to let you know that I got called into the store because some materials came in that I don’t remember ordering. So, naturally, I assumed these are for the renovations?”
“What are they?” you asked back with the toothbrush still in your mouth.
“It says here that these are gold-plated clothing racks, premium quality.”
You hummed, confused. “I didn’t order anything like that.”
“Oh, is that so? Alright. Maybe I did. Or someone I know,” she sighed and tutted. “Anyway, I’ll sort this out. Sorry to bother you.”
“Call me anytime, Daph,” you told her, your eyes darting to the bathroom door when you heard a loud thud from outside.
“I will. Tell everyone I said ‘hi’. And don’t swoon over your ex too much.”
“Whatever,” you sighed, exasperated. 
“Merry Christmas, sugar.”
“Merry Christmas.”
When you pushed through the door, you found Mingyu sitting on the edge of the bed, looking dazed with messy hair and a tired stare. He lifted his gaze when he noticed you, and flattened his lips into a sleepy smile.
“What happened?” you asked worriedly, taking notice of the blanket and pillow on the floor.
“Oh, nothing, I just…” Mingyu sighed, scratched his neck, and stretched it sideways. “I fell.”
You gawked at him. “You fell?”
He nodded, sheepish. You exhaled sharply, not even surprised. Mingyu, as big as he is, is by far the clumsiest person you’d ever met.
“Go wash up,” you instructed, walking towards the pile of beddings to pick them up. Instead of heeding your order, Mingyu snatched you by the waist, making you squeal as he swept you up and fell on the bed with you.
You tried to free yourself from his arms, but he was stronger than you by miles. “Let me go, Gyu.”
He hummed his disapproval and nuzzled on your neck. “Let’s stay in bed all day today, okay?”
“No,” you whined, squirming but he pinned you down. Despite your efforts to escape, he only seemed to take it as a challenge, launching into a relentless tickle attack.
“Kim Mingyu! No!” you warned sternly, pointing your index finger at him in an attempt to assert authority..
The grin that he gave you was menacing. “Kim Mingyu, yes.”
“Mingyu, I swear to God I will— aaaagh!” Shrieks and laughter filled your bedroom, along with Mingyu’s taunting and deep grunts each time you kicked his shins or punched his chest. He kept going until tears started streaming from your eyes from too much laughter. Only when your pleading voice began cracking did Mingyu stop.
“Gosh. You’re so annoying!” you sobbed, infuriated. He laid beside you on the bed, wrapping you back in his embrace.
“Sorry, baby,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “I was just playing around with you.”
“Well, it was not fun! Playing is supposed to be fun!” you scolded, swatting his arm away.
“I know. I’m sorry,” he shushed.
But you continued whining. “No, you’re not!”
You managed to get away from him and leave the bed to slump on the sofa and sulk. Mingyu sighed, although he looked genuinely apologetic. He always teased you like this, knowing how ticklish you were. And you always responded this way too, sulking and whining as much as you want.
“Baby…” he called softly, making his way to you.
“Don’t you call me that!” you retorted sharply.
Mingyu chuckled. “Okay, sweetheart.”
You scoffed. “What are you, my mom?”
“Then, ‘honey’ maybe?” he chimed.  You pushed him away with your foot, but he kept himself rooted in place, easily.
“Go away!”
"What about, 'darling'?" he continued, kneeling before you as he set your foot back down. He placed a gentle kiss on your knee, his lips lingering before trailing up your thigh. "My angel?"
The way he caressed your thigh tickled you in a way that was entirely different from what he did a while ago. This time was more sensitive, and pleasant… very pleasant.
“My love?” he sang, taking your hand and kissing the back of it.
You snatched your hand back, sighing as you scooted a little on the couch. “Stop it.”
Mingyu occupied the space next to you, touching your chin and lifting it so your eyes would meet his. “Why? I said I was sorry. Do you hate me for real?”
"No," you admitted with a pout, looking away. He gently redirected your gaze back to him.
You held his gaze, still scowling, but Mingyu's sweet smile softened your expression. He studied your face as if he didn’t already know it by heart, his eyes lingering on your lips. You flattened them together to discourage his advances, but he only chuckled and tapped your nose.
“You’re so cute,” he remarked.
You scoffed. “I know. Can’t say the same for you, though.”
Mingyu threw his head back in laughter before fixing his gaze on your lips again. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you, but before it could happen, loud knocks on your bedroom door interrupted the moment. Mingyu rose to open the door, revealing your oldest brother dressed as Santa Claus, complete with a fluffy white beard and a jolly laugh.
“Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas, children!” Allan greeted, drawing candies from his bag and throwing them in the air.
“Ha ha. It’s Santa,” you deadpanned, unamused.
Allan looked at Mingyu and then at you. “Good. You’re both decent. Let’s go open some gifts.”
He then walked away with his Santa laugh, while Mingyu beckoned you to the door. You said you’d wait for him, so he hurried to the bathroom to freshen up and while he was in there, you were scolding yourself for the way things are going. You kept reminding yourself that there is no getting back together, just making your family happy. That conversation with Daphne was a needed wake-up call.
“Are you ready?” Mingyu asked when he stepped out of the bathroom. You nodded and so you went to join your parents together. 
Everyone’s gathered in the living room, some of them still yawning and out of it. The kids were excited, jumping around and rushing to Mingyu when they saw you two descending the stairs. 
A younger kid, wide-eyed with excitement, piped up, "Your friend is not coming today, Mingyu?"
"Yeah, the Grinch friend!" another kid exclaimed.
“Grinch! Grinch! Grinch!”
You chuckled, knowing exactly who they were referring to. It was from last year when Daniel was Santa and Mingyu decided to come as The Grinch. But instead of ruining Christmas, he spoiled the kids with huge supplies of chocolates and sweets. You can still remember how the moms reacted to that— mad. But since he’s Mingyu, he got away with it.
As the family gathered around the Christmas tree, you all took turns opening presents. Santa, aka Allan, gleefully announced each gift, adding to the festive atmosphere. Then, amidst the wrapping paper and excitement, you heard Santa call out that Mingyu had something for you. You were surprised, considering you had agreed not to exchange gifts this year.
With a sheepish grin, Mingyu handed you a small box. Inside was a delicate necklace, simple yet elegant, just your style. You couldn't help but smile, touched by the gesture.
“Thank you,” you told him, examining the jewelry.
“You’re welcome,” he chimed, his hand pressed in the middle of your back.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” your father prompted after a few seconds. “Put it on her!”
“Yeah!”
For the amusement of your family, Mingyu put the necklace on you himself, his fingers deftly fastening the clasp as everyone watched with amusement. It was small moments of intimacies like this that will convince your family that everything is fine— that Mingyu is a part of you, of them.
The excitement of opening gifts soon subsided, and a long table of breakfast buffet was brought in for those who wanted to eat. While you sat to eat with some of your family members, the others went out to play in the snow. You watched them from the large windows, smiling absent-mindedly as Mingyu, in his element, was building a snowman with your niece while fending off the snowballs being thrown at him by the little boys. He was so good with the kids and they loved him so much for it.
“So, when did you two get back together?” your Aunt Sylvie prompted casually as she sliced through her waffles.
Caught off-guard, you blinked. “I’m sorry. What?” 
“I thought you broke up with him?” she asked again and suddenly, the vivid memory of you drunk calling your aunt and wailing about how you broke up with Mingyu flashed in your mind.
You opened your mouth to speak but your other cousin Felicity cut you off. “You guys broke up?”
“What? When?” Blair chimed in, visibly confused.
Aunt Sylvie erupted into laughter, though a hint of awkwardness lingered beneath her merriment. “Sorry, y/n. I got you mixed up with your other cousin. She and Billy parted ways over the summer.”
“Right,” you acknowledged, a wave of relief washing over you as the memory of your tipsy phone call to Aunt Sylvie resurfaced.
“Oh, of course, Auntie Sylvie. Tricia was here with her new boyfriend.”
“Hmm. I know. I thought it was Billy, to be honest. She certainly has a type,” she told Sydney who just giggled.
Sydney's voice rang out with conviction. “There’s no way y/n and Mingyu would break up.”
"Of course." Aunt Sylvie's laughter gradually subsided as the misunderstanding was clarified. “Say, Blair, aren’t you due to give birth this month?”
“No. Seriously,” Sydney interjected, her tone firm. “I know people break up all the time, but y/n and Mingyu are just… different. They’re so in love, it’s actually enviable sometimes.”
“That’s true. They’re so compatible, it’s almost hard to believe such a relationship exists,” your cousin added, her words laced with admiration.
“Guys…” you chimed in, feeling a mix of embarrassment and guilt as all eyes turned to you.
“Have you seen Mingyu? That guy is down bad.”
“Agreed. So bad. He’s in deep,” Sydney chuckled, reminiscing. “Did you know he used to bring her flowers every day when we were in college? Every. Single. Day.”
“He even sang to her once,” Blair teased, shooting you a playful look. “Which was adorable, considering he’s not a singer.”
“Definitely not.”
“So he’s a simp?” one person quipped, prompting laughter from the group.
“But did you see the way he looked at her?” Lena interjected. “I’ve only met the guy this weekend, but I can tell by the way they look at each other.”
“Yeah, we’ve seen it, Len. You should see them when they’re playing or just hanging out by themselves. They are in love.”
“And even when we’re all gathered together, these two always have their own world. It's like they’re here, but they are also in their own separate bubble at the same time.”
“He’s so sweet too. He seemed to know exactly how to make y/n feel confident and pretty and loved… You know what I’m saying?”
“Honestly!” one of your older cousins affirmed. “One time my little girl asked me why her dad and I weren’t as sweet as you guys.”
Felicity snickered. “Yeah. I was there at the time, and when I tell you, I screamed!”
“She’s four, guys. Four. She doesn’t even know that my name is not ‘Mom’,” she added, eliciting laughter from the group.
“Well, my sister said she’ll find herself someone like Mingyu,” Sydney recounted, causing Aunt Sylvie to gasp.
“Rue? She said that?”
“Oh, yeah, she did. You better watch out, y/n. She might come for your man when she finds out how hard it is to find someone remotely close.”
The perception of a "perfect" couple often serves as a beacon of hope for others, a shining example of enduring love in a world filled with uncertainty. People hold onto these ideals, weaving fantasies of their own fairytale romance inspired by the ideal relationship they see before them. But what happens when that illusion is shattered?
If you and Mingyu were their definition of true love, the news of your breakup would undoubtedly come as a shock to those who idolized your relationship. It might even shake the foundation of their belief in lasting love, causing them to question if such a thing truly exists. Will it be your fault if little children like Sabrina’s daughter stop believing in true love?
But the truth is, you and Mingyu were never meant to be seen as perfect or ideal. Like any other couple, you had your flaws and imperfections, but you chose to keep them to yourselves. Your struggles were kept behind closed doors, known only to you and Mingyu as you worked through them together. No one ever witnessed your arguments or disagreements because you believed you must not involve other people in your private business. And perhaps it was this commitment to privacy that led others to believe that your breakup was impossible. But as much as they may have wanted to believe in the fairytale of your love story, the reality is that relationships are complex and sometimes, they don't end happily.
So no, it wouldn't be your fault if people stopped believing in love because of your breakup. Love is not defined by the length of a relationship or the perceived perfection of a couple. It's a journey filled with ups and downs, twists and turns, and sometimes, even endings. And while your breakup may have shattered the illusion of a fairytale romance for some, it doesn't change the fact that what you had was beautiful and the love that they witnessed was true.
Blair’s hand on your arm pulled you out of your musings. With a smile, she said, “I’m not trying to skip ahead or anything, but if you and Mingyu do end up getting married, it will probably be the best match I have ever seen in my entire life.”
“Amen!” Felicity cheered, raising her glass in the air. The others did the same, except you who gazed outside the window where you could see Mingyu.
As if aware that someone was watching him, Mingyu glanced back at you, waving happily when he spotted you.
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The festivities continued in your home for the rest of the day, with everyone doing their own thing but in the same room. Kids were running around, and adults were chatting over wine and snacks. You joined your mother at the stairs as she watched the festivities with a fond look on her face.
“Look at them,” she told you when you approached her and wrapped your arms around her waist. 
You hummed, looking at your family. “Yeah. They’re so noisy.”
Your mother chuckled heartily, rubbing your back. “But don’t you just love this sight? Everyone is smiling and laughing. Everyone is present to spend Christmas with us.”
“Yeah, well. I guess it’s nice,” you replied, feigning indifference despite understanding her sentiments. Like her, you breathed a contented sigh, watching your family.
“You know, I didn’t grow up with Christmas traditions. Unlike most families, mine didn’t care much for Christmas,” she began, making you glance at her. “Your grandparents divorced when I was little. They would send a gift and a card each year but I knew neither of them picked those for me. It was probably their assistants. There is no way my father would know I liked unicorns,” she laughed heartily.
“That’s terrible. I could never imagine a Christmas that’s different from what we have every year,” you confessed. 
“I know. Marrying your father gave me the chance to celebrate something so beautiful with a family who may not be the most perfect but just as special.”
Your eyes were fixed on your father, dancing groovily in the middle of the room to an old tune your uncle had just put on. He pointed at your mother, beckoning her to join him. She did, happily so. Everyone cheered as they danced together, ever-loving and sweet to each other. It was a heartwarming sight, and you realized that if there’s a couple to look up to, it’s your parents—the most compatible pair. She was the calm to his storm, the peace to his chaos. He brought color to her monotonous life. While he spoke impulsively, she grounded him with thoughtful words. While he spoiled you and your siblings, she kept the household in check. They were the perfect balance, each complementing the other. When they said there was a woman behind every successful man, they must have been right.
You watched fondly as everyone cheered for your parents, the other couples eventually joining in. Your eyes met Mingyu’s in the crowd, and he gestured for you to join him on the dance floor. You shook your head briskly. If there’s one thing you’d never do, it’s dancing in front of other people.
“Come on, love!” he called out again.
“No way. I’ll pass. Have fun, though.”
He insisted, and soon your other relatives joined in, urging you to dance. But you stood your ground. When Mingyu started walking towards you, you bolted up the stairs, heading straight for your bedroom. Mingyu was hot on your tail, calling your name playfully while you shrieked. You fumbled with the door, trying to lock it as soon as you got inside, but Mingyu pushed through before you could bolt it shut.
“There is no parallel universe where you can outrun me, baby,” he breathed, pulling you by the waist so you’re flush against him.
“I’d still try, though,” you exclaimed, breathless and laughing, as Mingyu wrapped his arms around you, spinning you around the room. “You never give up, do you?”
“It depends on the fight, honestly,” he confessed, making you stop as you began overthinking again. However before you could form a coherent thought, Mingyu gave you a lift.
It made you laugh, and when your feet touched the floor again, you eased into the moment, staring at Mingyu as you swayed around the room. The music was faint and barely audible, coming all the way from the great hall downstairs. You had always known you were a terrible dancer, but Mingyu was good at it. It was easy to follow his lead, almost as easy as getting lost in the depths of his gaze. You were completely absorbed, totally entranced. How could you not be when he looked at you like his life depended on it?
“You're doing great,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. His hand on your waist guided you gently, and you felt a surge of confidence. 
“I know I’m not good, Gyu,” you admitted, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t have to lie.”
"But you’re perfect now," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Just follow me."
With each step, you fell into a rhythm, moving together in a seamless dance. The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in until it felt like there was nothing but the two of you, swaying in the quiet of your bedroom and making a memory you probably would never forget.
“You make it easy,” you whispered, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the dance. 
Mingyu's smile widened, and he spun you gently, bringing you back into his arms with a flourish. “You make everything better,” he said softly.
The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat. Before you could respond, he dipped you low, his strong arms supporting you effortlessly. As he brought you back up, your faces were inches apart, his breath warm on your face.
The world around you blurred and the faint music from downstairs became a distant hum. All you could see, all you could feel, was Mingyu. The intensity of his gaze, the way his arms held you so securely, the way his lips hovered just a breath away from yours.
Unable to resist any longer, he closed the distance, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was soft at first, then deepened as the emotion between you surged. The kiss was a blend of longing, unspoken words, and unfulfilled promises, and it felt like coming home. It was like you lost something and only found it now. It felt like you belonged there; like this is the only thing you have and will ever know.
When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting together as you tried to steady your racing hearts.
“I can’t believe that just happened,” he said, making you scoff.
“Are you regretting it?”
“No!” he denied, throwing his head back as he laughed. “I just didn’t think you would let me.”
You playfully hit his arm, and he caught your hand, still chuckling. You rested your head on his chest, swaying gently with him. After a moment, Mingyu stopped and took a deep breath.
“So…“ he began, making you look up at him. “Do you wanna… make out or something?“
You laughed incredulously, both embarrassed and amused. “Why are you acting like we’re teenagers?“
“I haven’t really grown much after my teenage years,“ he said, shrugging. “So this has basically been my height since I was eighteen. You know, I was taller than my dad, which was crazy because—“
You cut him off with a kiss, frustrated by his nervous rambling. That's just another reason why he’s so endearing; he becomes a blabbering mess when he's nervous.
“You’re yapping,” you told him after parting from his lips. “Don’t be nervous. It’s just me.”
Mingyu laughed nervously. “That’s the thing. It’s you… I’m nervous because it’s you.”
You rolled your eyes, but you were grinning. “You think sweet talk will sweep me off my feet?”
He shrugged. “Not really, but I do know how to sweep you off your feet.”
“How?”
Without warning, Mingyu lifted you into his arms, literally sweeping you off your feet, and carried you over to the bed. You both fell onto the mattress, you giggling and him grinning mischievously. He lay next to you, staring at you for a second before cupping your cheek and pulling you in for another kiss.
“I’m not nervous anymore,” he boasted, grinning against your lips.
You just laughed, leaning to give him a peck on the lips. As you lay entwined with Mingyu, the winter afternoon light filtered by the curtains cast gentle shadows across the room. His fingers traced delicate patterns down the length of your arm, evoking a shiver of anticipation. His lips crashed into yours again, and this time you welcomed him with vigor; tugging at the back of his neck and grabbing a handful of his hair as he deepened the kiss.
His hand found your waist, squeezing firmly as your tongues melded together in the kiss. You pouted when he pulled away, only to let out a faint moan when his mouth moved to your neck.
“Is this okay?” he asked as he slowly tugged the sleeves off your shoulder and planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin. 
“Yes,” you told him, ignoring the screams of protest in your head. “It’s more than okay.”
Mingyu exhaled sharply, your permission making him more ravenous. His mouth scaled your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin of your collarbone and shoulder blade. You didn’t even notice that he had stripped you off of your dress until you felt his hand roaming your bare torso.
“Mingyu…” you echoed. In the intimacy of the moment, you realized just how much you had missed his touch, how his every caress seemed to awaken a yearning that you didn’t realize was very strong until now. His lips found yours again in a tender kiss, a silent promise of the passion that lay ahead.
“I’ve missed you, y/n,” he breathed, caressing your cheek. “I was so lost without you.”
You held his gaze, tenderly and lovingly as you reached for his face and leaned to kiss him. “You’ve found me, Gyu. I’m right here.”
He kissed you again, only briefly before he sat up to discard his shirt far across the room. He then hovered over you, his gaze intense as he took in the view of your nakedness before him. Dipping low, he kissed your lips, then your neck, down to your collarbone, and then your chest where your heart is. His gentle hands cupped your clothed bosoms in a firm grasp as his lips moved further down to your belly.
And amidst the whirlwind of sensations, your mind is in a mess knowing that this moment will inevitably lead to something more. You knew all too well the consequences of surrendering to this desire, the inevitable pain that would follow. You should not. You must not. This is the worst that could happen. These thoughts, equipped with detailed explanations, swirled in your head in an attempt to drag you away from the lure of desire. 
But in the heat of the moment, you stared into Mingyu’s eyes as he positioned his head between your legs, one finger stroking your moistened underwear. Right then, your rationality fell apart and you ignored its calls. Then again, when have you ever listened to reason?
A gasp escaped your lips as soon as Mingyu’s tongue did what it came to do. His every stroke sent ripples of pleasure throughout your body, numbing your mind. You grabbed a fistful of his hair, moaning and calling out his name. As if he wasn’t already doing too much, Mingyu pushed a finger inside for good measure. You could feel your body twitching as the tease of release neared, and your eyes blurred with too much stimulation.
Please don’t stop, you screamed, but only in your head. Mingyu, however, stopped at that very moment, sitting up on the bed and gazing at your fucked out expression. His grin was menacing, satisfied by the view before him.
“You love that, don’t you?” he lilted, licking his lips cockily. Watching him unbuckle his belt almost made you cry as every fiber of your being begged for him to touch you again, to be one with him in body and soul.
“Mingyu…” you pleaded, not even hiding your desperation. Mingyu hurriedly hovered over you, kissing your forehead and caressing your face.
“Don’t cry, baby,” he said sweetly, kissing your lips and laughing when you chased after it. “I’m right here.”
Mingyu would never make you wait; he could not. He’s weak against your pleas and his fervor is about fifty times more than yours. So he gave you what you both wanted, pushing into you languidly with one movement. You whimpered due to the agonizing pleasure, back arching towards him as your body responded. His thrusts and unrestrained grunts had you spiraling, your nails embedded in his skin as you held onto him for dear life.
Worried you were being too loud, you bit your lip to stifle your moans, giving Mingyu a pleading look as you stared at each other. He smirked at you and stopped moving for a second. Without a warning, he did a sudden, hard, heavy, and deep thrust that had you yelping in bliss.
“Bite your lips again, I dare you.”
You raised an eyebrow, clueless but only momentarily. Breathless and hoarse, you asked, “Why not?”
“I want to hear you.”
Did he really think you disliked his little ‘punishment’ in any way? Feeling mischievous, you challenged him by biting your lips once more, making him ram into you roughly again. You bit back your moans so he did it again. Once more, and twice, until he finally realized that you were doing it on purpose.
Laughing darkly, Mingyu ducked to kiss you, his lips moving to your cheek and then nibbling on your ear before whispering, “You naughty naughty little lady.”
And so you surrendered yourself to him completely, losing yourself in the sweet oblivion of his touch. His hand explored every inch of your body, tracing the outlines of your curves with a gentle touch that left you breathless. Your bodies danced to the rhythm of desire and you cried each other’s names in ecstasy brought by release. It was a moment of pure bliss, a fleeting glimpse of paradise in a world filled with chaos and uncertainty.
You’ve done it, y/n, you told yourself. You’ve passed the point of no return.
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You lay nestled against Mingyu, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arm wrapped around you securely, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your back. The warmth of his skin against yours was a stark contrast to the cold that loomed beyond the windows, and you sighed contentedly, feeling utterly at peace.
Mingyu shifted slightly, pulling the blanket up to cover you both more snugly. "Are you warm enough?" he asked softly, his voice low and gentle.
You nodded, nuzzling closer to him. "Perfectly warm," you whispered.
He tightened his hold on you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. A comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by the soft sounds of your breathing. You felt his hand travel up to your hair, his fingers threading through the strands, soothing and calming. 
"Do you remember your first Christmas up here? We were sledding all afternoon and got caught in a snowstorm?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips at the memory.
Mingyu chuckled, a deep, warm sound that vibrated through his chest. "Yeah. It snowed hard that time. We had to hide in the cabin across the estate."
You hummed. “It was so cold. And the fireplace wouldn’t work."
"We had to keep each other warm," he added, laughing softly. His eyes met yours, filled with the same warmth and affection you felt. "Best snowstorm ever."
You sighed, closing your eyes and letting yourself enjoy the moment. It felt so natural, so right, to be in his arms again.
As the minutes ticked by, the steady rise and fall of his chest lulled you into a state of near-sleep. His warmth, his scent, the feel of his skin against yours—it was all so familiar, yet achingly new. You knew this would end, that reality would creep back in, but for now, you allowed yourself to bask in the moment, to let yourself be wrapped up in him.
“I wish we could stay like this,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
“We can, for a little while longer,” Mingyu replied, his voice equally soft. “Let's just enjoy this, okay?”
You nodded, a sense of calm washing over you. “Okay,” you agreed, snuggling closer.
But then your thoughts became too much to contain, one question repeatedly echoing in your head. “What about after this?”
“Hmm?” Mingyu inquired, opening his eyes slightly.
You pulled away from him, moving back a little so you could see his face properly. “What happens after this?”
Mingyu chuckled sleepily, pulling you back into his embrace. “Is that necessary? We’re having lots of fun. Let’s not spoil it with depressing conversations.”
His response stirred something in you—rage. A blind rage that made the veins on your forehead pulse. You exhaled sharply, pulling away again. “Why are we doing this?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.
“We came here to fool my family, Gyu. Not for...” you paused, looking at the cozy state of your bed. “...this. Whatever this is!”
You kicked the sheets off your legs and stood up at once, pacing the room as you massaged your aching temples.
“Baby, come on,” Mingyu sang, following after you to pull you into his arms. You let him hug you, pressing your cheek against his chest while he ran his fingers through your hair. “Don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what, Mingyu?” you groaned, pushing him with weakened arms while you tried your best not to sob. “Don’t do what? I don’t even know what we’re doing.”
His grip tightened around you, his voice a soothing whisper. “We’re just living in the moment, taking what we can get. Isn't that enough?”
You shook your head, tears finally spilling over. “No, it’s not. I can’t just pretend this doesn’t mean anything.”
Mingyu sighed, his own expression conflicted. “Babe—”
“Stop calling me that, please!“ you pleaded, crouching down on the floor as you felt your knees give out. You buried your face in your hands, hiding behind your hair as you sobbed. “I knew this was a bad idea. I fucking knew it!“
The room fell silent, the only sound being your sniffling. Your mind was a mess, and your heart throbbed painfully. After some time, you felt Mingyu’s hand on your back, the other on your knee.
“I’m sorry,” Mingyu whispered, his voice barely audible as he kissed the top of your head. “I’m so sorry.”
You lifted your head, meeting his apologetic gaze. “You don’t love me at all, do you?”
“Why would you even say that?”
“Because you wouldn’t be apologizing if you did.”
He uttered your name, the anguish on his face making your heart ache even more. You wished you could read his mind, wished he would open up and let you in on his deepest thoughts about your relationship.
“I love you, y/n... I loved you so much.”
“Then why did we break up?”
“Because it’s what you wanted.”
“You never fought me about it!” you cried, standing up and pacing away from him. You wiped the tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand. “You just walked out the door, Mingyu! You left without so much as a fight. It was like you were waiting for it to happen!”
“That’s not true!” he protested, standing up as well, his voice rising in desperation.
“Then why didn’t you say so?“
“Because you wanted it! I was just giving you what you want.” He slumped back on the couch. “You didn’t want me anymore. I knew it, I saw it, I felt it.”
“Can you blame me?” you asked incredulously. “You were too busy, Gyu. You had no time for us!“
“I was a newbie at work. Of course, I was busy,“ he retorted, still in a low voice but you could hear the frustration in his voice. “I was swamped with work, but I made sure to come home to you. I made time for you. I tried my best not to neglect you.“
“You tried, huh? Well, if you really did, I would have noticed it but I didn’t! You were always tired. We could go on not speaking a word to each other for hours. And then out of nowhere, you’ll be in the mood to have sex,“ you scoffed, laughing derisively. “What makes you think you can ignore me all day and I would still open my legs for you when you ask for it?“
Mingyu sighed, shutting his eyes in frustration. “Oh my god, y/n. You stopped having sex with me, did you forget? Even on days when we’re getting along, you never let me touch you. You always had excuses and I respected them. Some of them are ridiculous by the way, but I respected them all the same!”
He was right, but you weren’t ready to give up yet. “Then why did you change so much? You even stopped trying to fix things whenever we fought. You just go to bed and sleep like nothing was wrong!”
“That’s because you kept picking a fight over the smallest things! I can’t keep having all these stupid arguments with you,” Mingyu groaned, gesturing wildly.
“Exactly!” you hollered, exasperated. “That’s exactly the problem. It didn’t matter how small it was before. We always, always made up before the day ended.”
“You mean me?” Mingyu smirked mockingly. “We? There was no ‘we’ when it came to fighting. You never tried to make up, y/n. It was always me. No matter whose fault it was, I was always the first to apologize because you could never lower your goddamned pride!”
“Are you saying—”
“Stop it. Please, just fucking stop!” he snarled, finally losing his patience. His aggression startled you, making you take a few steps back. Mingyu was scowling, his jaw clenched, eyes filled with pain and indignation. He looked away, muttering curses as he ran his hands through his already wild hair.
He let out a big sigh before saying, “You can’t tell me that I didn’t fight because I did! I was there; I never left. Even with the pressure of securing a regular position at work, I tried to be a good partner to you. Even during your unreasonable fits, I stayed. Even when it felt like there was no hope, I fucking stayed! Your decision to break up was the last straw, y/n! It was the last straw! I was…” Mingyu’s voice cracked as he struggled to hold back tears. He tightened his lips and placed his hands on his waist, sighing in frustration as he backed away, trying to calm down. When he glanced back at you, the pained look on his face was still there.
“I was tired, Y/N. I was fucking tired. You had no idea,” he confessed more gently, finally allowing himself to cry. “You had no idea.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. With tired legs, you sank onto the couch opposite the bed, quietly immersing yourself in your thoughts. You gazed out the window to avoid seeing Mingyu, but his faint sobs and deep breaths kept him in your mind.
Before coming to the chateau, you had asked yourself, "What could go wrong?" So far, nothing major has gone wrong, but this trip has unleashed the deep-seated frustrations you and Mingyu had about your relationship. Four years of unresolved issues had surfaced because neither of you was brave enough to address them. You had both been worried about offending each other, of hurting one of you unintentionally or burdening one another with personal problems. Now, you realize that you hadn’t grown apart because your love had wavered. The things you chose to ignore out of consideration, the tiny mistakes you excused—all these issues had grown into an insurmountable wall that caused you to lose touch.
It wasn’t your fault, nor was it his, and you knew that. You had never blamed anyone for the breakup. But it felt so damning to discover that things could have gone differently—that breaking up wasn’t necessary.
You glanced at Mingyu, still sitting with his face in his hands. Standing up, you wiped your cheeks and took a deep breath before walking towards him. You reached for his shoulder, squeezing it firmly to let him know you were there. You were the one who held the knife that stabbed a hole through both of your hearts. You were also the one who pulled it out when you instigated this confrontation. It was only right for you to be the one to stop yourselves from bleeding out.
“I love you,” you murmured, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear.
Mingyu wiped his face with his hand before looking up at you. “What?”
“I love you, Mingyu,” you repeated, starting to sob again. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that—I… I’m so sorry.”
With a gentle tug, Mingyu pulled you into his arms, locking you in a tight hug. You sobbed uncontrollably, gripping his shirt for dear life. He comforted you with soft shushing sounds, rubbing his hand on your back, and planting a few kisses on the side of your head.
“I love you too, baby. I love you so much,” he whispered, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. “God, I love you so much.”
Still wrapped in his embrace, you heard footsteps thundering outside your door, followed by urgent, hurried knocks that made you jump.
“Guys! We gotta go!”
“Did something happen?” you called back, frantically wiping your face, hoping to hide the evidence of your tears. Mingyu, just as flustered, used his shirt to dry his own face. He even helped fix your messed-up hair with his big, panicky hands.
And then you pushed the door open, revealing a shaken Daniel who announced, “Clair’s water just broke.”
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You stood outside the nursery, watching your niece behind the big glass window. There is a rush of emotions overwhelming you and it felt like your heart expanded with an intense, almost indescribable love. You gazed at the tiny, delicate features of the baby while Mingyu stood next to you, holding your hand and cooing at the sleeping child.
You can feel a sense of wonder and awe, marveling at the miracle of your niece’s arrival, Alyssa. Everyone thought she was Alfred the whole time. Turns out she was an Alyssa. Your sister said this baby is this year’s plot twist, a Christmas miracle. This was good to know because you had initially thought the plot twist that would shock your entire family was the fact that you and Mingyu were no longer dating.
“I don’t think I would ever have kids,” you told Mingyu on the drive back to the chateau.
He seemed surprised by your admission. “Why not?”
“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling. I don’t see motherhood as something I would be doing in the future. I think the closest I can be to being one is as an aunt. I have enough nieces and nephews anyway.”
“Motherhood seemed like a huge responsibility too,” Mingyu affirmed, smiling.
“It does. I mean, I might change my mind in the future, but right now? No, not for me,” you added, glancing at Mingyu in the driver’s seat. “What about you?”
“Well, I love kids.”
You smiled fondly. “I can see that.”
“Yeah. And I would love to have one of my own in the future. Maybe more.”
Mingyu’s smile lingered, his eyes gleaming at the thought of having his own children. You found yourself drifting into a daydream, imagining a future where the two of you ended up together, married, and living in a home filled with love and happiness. You painted a picture of a beautiful family, mirroring some of your own family values, and traditions. You would spend holidays at the chateau, celebrate your wins as a family, treat each other with respect and consideration. He’d be a loving husband, and you a supportive wife.
Children? Yes, there were children in this picture. But when you thought about yourself, you still couldn’t find the desire to have kids. Maybe you’d change your mind someday; maybe you wouldn’t. The thought of motherhood felt so distant. As much as you adored your nieces and nephews, you couldn’t see yourself stepping into a maternal role. Then again, there is no guarantee that you’d end up marrying Mingyu in the first place. This is all just wishful thinking.
You were pulled out of your daydream by the sound of Mingyu’s phone ringing. Reaching into the compartment, you carefully handed it to him.
“Can you answer it for me?” he asked, keeping his hands on the steering wheel.
The caller ID read ‘Mina,’ accompanied by a photo of the woman you’d seen him meet at a cafe. Your mind raced with questions, but you tapped the answer button and held the phone to his ear.
“Mingyu! Merry Christmas! How are you?” Her voice was bright and melodic.
“I’m well, Mina. Merry Christmas to you too,” Mingyu replied, glancing at you briefly.
“I have some good news!” she exclaimed.
A flicker of hesitation crossed Mingyu’s face. “Uh… Now’s not a good time.”
“Oh, this won’t take long. I just had to share this with you!” she persisted, followed by the sound of shuffling papers. “Welcome to XYZ Corporation!”
The sound of party poppers and Mina’s cheerful laughter filled the car. Mingyu smiled, though he still seemed a bit uneasy.
“That’s amazing. Thank you, Mina,” he said.
“You did great. They’ll email you after the holidays to confirm your employment and discuss your relocation. Just stay tuned for that, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Great. I won’t take up too much of your time then. I’ll see you soon. Happy holidays!”
The car was quiet after that call; painfully quiet. Mingyu is not saying anything, and you’re stuck trying to process the new information you got from that phone call. Even after the car has stopped, neither of you made a move to get off.
“Babe,” Mingyu prompted, reaching for your hand that was sitting on your lap.
“What was that?” was the first thing you asked.
“It was Mina Choi. She works at XYZ.”
“No. Not her,” you insisted, shaking your head. “XYZ Corporation? That’s in Seoul, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“And you’re gonna be working there?”
Mingyu took a deep breath before responding. “Not yet. I got recruited last month so I applied and apparently, I got the job.”
“Oh,” you blurted, feeling lost so you just stared at your lap. “That’s great. XYZ is a big company. I’ve heard of them.”
He smiled contently, sighing. “Yeah, it is. I got a full contract too.”
“So you’re moving back to Korea?”
Mingyu’s silence spoke volumes. You let out a deep sigh, trying to muster a supportive smile, even though your heart felt heavy. “Congratulations, Gyu.”
“Baby—”
You pushed the car door open and walked briskly towards the chateau. You walked faster, almost running, eager to reach your bedroom as soon as possible and hide. But Mingyu was following closely behind, chasing you quietly. You passed by the halls, eyes blurring as your mind raced faster. You passed by your family members gathered at the great hall, their attentions immediately pointing at you the moment you walked in.
“Oh, you’re back! How’s Blair?” Sydney asked but you ignored her, going straight up the staircase without looking back, your heavy and urgent footsteps echoing through the entire hall.
Mingyu answered for you, his voice calm despite the tension. “Blair is doing great, Syd. They’ll be home in the morning.”
Your bedroom was quiet and cozy, and you could see the evidences of the warmth that engulfed this entire space just a few hours ago. Realizing that you’re about to lose it for the second time, your chest tightened with heartache while you ignored the stinging on your eyelids. Mingyu arrived sooner, shutting the door gently behind him.
You spun around to face him, arms crossed over your chest. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Mingyu took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t want to ruin our weekend.”
“Ruin it? Mingyu, you’re leaving for Seoul! How is that not a big deal?” you said, voice trembling with a mix of frustration and sorrow.
“Baby, let’s calm down for a second, alright,” he replied softly, reaching to hold your shoulders.
His gentle squeezes and the comforting look in his eyes steadied your heartbeat. You let him lock you in his embrace as you swallowed the lump in your throat.
“I didn’t hear from them for a while so I didn’t think I’d get the job,” he confessed as he rubbed soothing circles on your back. “I only found out today.”
“But we’ve only just got back together,” you moped, sobbing against his shirt.
“I know. It sucks for me too.”
You couldn’t even begin to describe how much you regret everything. Instead of breaking up, you should have just tried to fix things. You should have just talked about it. That way, you wouldn’t have lost those last few weeks with him. You would have made the most out of your time together. Now, it feels like you’re right back where you started, but worse.
Mingyu lifted your chin, the pain on his face evident upon seeing the tears streaming down your face. "I’m so sorry.”
Even if you wanted him to, Mingyu would never offer to stay. He would never pass up such a big career opportunity, and you wouldn’t have the heart to ask him to give it up. He had studied hard for years and worked tirelessly to deserve the opportunities that are coming his way. Not to mention this will be his chance to return home after being away for so long. You couldn’t take that from him; you wouldn’t be the one to hold him back.
“I’m genuinely happy for you, Mingyu. Really, I am. But this all just feels so… unfair.”
“I know,” he whispered, his own tears finally falling. “I know, and I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”
As you stood there, your mind raced through all the moments you'd shared. The laughter, the intimate conversations, the quiet moments of simply being together. All of it seemed so cruelly short-lived now, overshadowed by the inevitable. Despite your newly rediscovered love, you knew you weren’t prepared to move across the world for someone you weren’t sure you’d end up marrying. The internal conflict weighed heavily on you, a mix of pride for his achievements and sadness for the distance that would soon separate you.
Your thoughts wandered to the future, a future you had briefly allowed yourself to imagine with him. A home filled with love and happiness, the possibility of children, growing old together. It all seemed like a beautiful dream that was slipping away. It’s probably for the best. The picture you tried to paint was blurry anyway, so maybe it wasn’t meant to be.
Silence enveloped the room as you both stood there, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. Finally, Mingyu spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you, y/n.”
You looked up at him, your heart breaking all over again. “I love you too, Gyu.”
He took a deep breath, hesitating before gently cupping your face in his hands. “We’ll figure it out. Somehow, we will.”
“I know.”
As you watched Mingyu kiss your forehead, lingering for a moment as if trying to memorize the feel of you, your mind screamed at the unfairness of it all. You wondered how many more times you’d have to say goodbye to someone you loved, and how many more pieces your heart could break into before it was beyond repair.
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On Tuesday morning, you drove out of the chateau after saying goodbye to your family. In the end, you never got to fulfill the deal you made with Mingyu which was to tell everyone the truth before you head back to the city. You felt that it would be unnecessary; you got back together after all.
The drive was filled with a comfortable silence, occasional glances, and small smiles. You slept most of the ride like you always did. Then you spent the next few days with Mingyu, doing everything and anything together. You went on dates to your favorite spots—the little café where you had your first date, the park where you spent lazy afternoons, and all the places you loved to go to that he wouldn’t be able to see for a long time. Each outing was a surge of nostalgia and making new memories.
He also moved out of his apartment early to spend his last week with you, so not only did you see him every day, but you were with him every second of the day. Two days before his departure, you headed up to the chateau so he could say goodbye to everyone properly. Then you held a small party with your closest friends to celebrate a milestone in Mingyu’s career and wish him good luck.
It was needless to say neither of you held yourselves back, especially when it came to your desires. You lost more than a month together, and it would stretch back far longer if one were to consider the time when your relationship was rocky. You had a lot of conversations with Mingyu, opening up to each other more than you’ve ever done in the last four years together. He told you about his aspirations, and you told him about your plans from here on out.
“I really wish we could have more time,” he told you while you lay in your bed, warm and cozy under the sheets. Your bodies were flushed against each other, and you could tell you still smelled like him.
“Me too,” you confessed, nuzzling on his chest like you’re not already glued to him. “I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow.”
Mingyu sighed heavily. “That’s okay. If it’s ours, it will find its way back to us.”
You chuckled, propping yourself so you could frown at him. “That’s just another way of saying: if it’s meant to be, it will be.”
“I know,” he grinned and then kissed the tip of your nose.
“You’re silly.”
You spent the past days laughing and making each other happy. Neither of you has shown any sadness or shed a tear for the inevitable, although that did not mean it wasn’t sad. It was painful, but it was a familiar kind of pain, one you had been bracing yourself for since the moment he received that phone call from Mina. Yet, no amount of preparation could fully shield you from the reality of that moment.
There was a raw, undeniable hurt in knowing that someone you loved so deeply was leaving. The countless memories you had built together played like a silent movie in your mind—each scene was a reminder of what you were about to lose. Your laughter, the quiet moments of comfort, the shared dreams, and even the setbacks that made you stronger—all of it now leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth.
“You know, this is the warmest bed I’ve ever known,” you confessed, laying back down.
“Like, literally or?”
You giggled, closing your eyes as you melted into his warmth. “You made it warm.”
“Well, you did give me a bed to lie on. I did my best to make it warm.”
You opened your eyes and scowled, confused. “Like, literally?”
“No,” he laughed, his chest vibrating. And the night stretched on with more of your laughter and conversations.
The morning of Mingyu’s departure arrived too quickly. You both sat in the living room, your head on his chest while he hugged you tightly. Neither of you was speaking, just quietly passing the time in each other’s arms. His suitcase was by the door, and every tick of the clock seemed louder than usual.
“Are you ready to go?” Mingyu asked gently, his eyes searching yours.
You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I said I’m not going.”
“I know. I was just trying to see if you changed your mind,” he chimed, his thumb rubbing your shoulder.
You buried your face in his chest and tightened your arms around his torso. “I don’t like it. It’s too sad.”
He hummed in understanding. “I get it. It’s hard for me too.” He stood up and hugged you tightly, his warmth enveloping you. “I’ll call you as soon as I land, okay?”
You nodded against his chest, feeling the tears welling up. “Okay.”
Mingyu kissed the top of your head, holding you for a few more seconds before pulling away. “Take care of yourself,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
“You too,” you replied, watching as he picked up his suitcase and walked out the door. The sound of the door closing felt like a heartbreaking note.
For a few minutes, you stood there in the deafening silence, your heart aching with the weight of the goodbye. The thought of not seeing him off began to gnaw at you, each moment passing making you feel worse. You knew that if you didn’t go, you would regret it forever.
Without giving yourself time to second-guess, you grabbed your phone and ran out the door, not bothering to lock it behind you.
“Taxi!” you yelled at the first taxi you saw on the street, your hand flapping wildly in the air as you beckoned for it. “Airport. And please be quick!”
The traffic was mercifully light, but every red light felt like an eternity. You tapped your fingers nervously on your knee, willing the lights to change faster.
“Late for a flight?” the taxi driver asked but you were too immersed in your thoughts to hear it clearly.
“Sorry?” you asked stupidly.
“No luggage,” he noted. “Chasing a lover, I see.”
You chuckled nervously, eyes darting from the driver to the red light flashing up ahead. “Does it happen a lot?”
“No, not really. It’s rarer than you would expect,” the man replied spiritedly. “And it’s beautiful each time you see one.”
He didn’t chat much, and it was like he could also feel the urgency of your situation because as soon as he could, he sped through the highways and assured you that everything would be alright. When you finally reached the airport, you hastily paid your fare and ran towards the terminal, your heart pounding in your chest.
You scanned the crowds frantically, hoping you weren’t too late. Then, you spotted him at the security checkpoint, just about to hand over his boarding pass.
"Kim Mingyu!" you shouted, your voice echoing in the bustling terminal.
He turned around, eyes wide with surprise. You pushed through the crowd, running up to him while waving your hand. Mingyu left the queue immediately, meeting you halfway. When you reached him, you were breathless, both from the run and the emotions. He didn’t waste any time and pulled you into a tight embrace.
When you parted, you laughed shyly, not looking him in the eyes out of embarrassment.
“Wow, I almost didn’t catch you,” you told him, looking at the queue of people boarding the gate.
Mingyu’s expression was soft and loving as he tucked a few strands of your hair to the back of your ear. “I’m so glad you came.”
“Yeah. I’m so glad I did,” you chuckled, moving closer to hug him again. You stared at his face, trying to memorize it before he leaves and your vision of him becomes limited to a phone’s screen only.
“I thought you don’t like it?” he asked, arms wrapped around your waist and enjoying the way you were staring at him with loving eyes.
“I don’t,” you admitted, rolling your eyes. “But I’ll make an exception for you.”
“Just tell me you’re gonna miss me and be done with it.”
“I’m gonna miss you, Mingyu.”
Mingyu laughed heartily, pleasantly surprised by your admission. “See. How hard was that?”
“Not hard at all because it’s true,” you shrugged.
He cupped your face in his hands, his eyes sparkling with affection. “I’m gonna miss you too, baby. A lot.”
“You better,” you said nonchalantly, masking the yearning in your heart. “I love you, okay?”
He nodded. “I love you.”
The announcement for his flight boarding echoed through the terminal, and Mingyu sighed, knowing it was time to go. He kissed you deeply, pouring all his love and emotion into that one kiss. Then he pulled you into a tight embrace again, neither of you wanting to let go. 
“Take care of yourself,” he murmured into your hair.
“You too,” you replied, tears streaming down your face. You couldn’t help it. When Mingyu saw that, you recognized the slight flicker of hesitation on his face. “Go, before I change my mind and chain you to my bedpost.”
“See you soon, y/n.”
“See you soon, Mingyu.”
With one last kiss, he turned and walked towards the gate, pausing to look back at you one more time. You watched as he disappeared from sight, a mix of sadness and hope filling your heart. You took a deep breath, letting the cool air of the terminal fill your lungs. As you exhaled, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. You can’t control the future, but you can choose how to face it.
Acceptance was not about letting go of the pain but about understanding that it was part of the journey. You allowed yourself to feel every emotion, knowing that it was okay to hurt, okay to miss him, and okay to hope for a future where your paths would cross again.
Days passed in the blink of an eye. You got busy working on the establishment of your interior design office. You haven’t even officially established your office yet but inquiries are already pouring in thanks to your work on Daphne’s boutique. Sure, you had help from your trust fund and your first investor was your father, but why would you shy away from the privilege you were born with when you can flourish with it?
“Ma'am, where do you want this couch to be?” asked the helpers as they hauled a long couch into the office space.
“Over there by that corner, please. And the rest of it will be placed there too,” you instructed just as you were fishing your phone from your bag.
You opened the message from Mingyu and saw that he had sent you a picture. It was of him and an abstract painting hanging on the wall of his Seoul apartment– the one you sent him a few days ago.
MG: Rate my interior design capability. you: 7/10. Nice spot but it’s upside down, Mr Kim. MG: LOL okay will fix it when i get back. i'm at work now. i miss you! xx
A smile crept up your lips as you typed a reply.
you: Miss you! Good luck!
Not everyone has to end up with the greatest love of their life. But you do wish you would end up with yours— that somehow, despite the massive population of the earth, Mingyu is your greatest love; your end game. Maybe he is, or perhaps he’s not. Who knows? Right now, you're both content living your days, doing what makes you happy. You no longer ache for him too much, although you miss him a lot every day. You were pretty convinced that you missed it only because you were used to it. Then again, who knows for sure?
As you set your phone down, you felt hopeful and optimistic. Your story with Mingyu wasn’t over; it was simply evolving. And in that evolution, you found strength, hope, and a future full of possibilities.
[fin]
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24kmar · 3 days
Text
𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎 (P. Zweig)
Apart of my fic "Born Stunna"
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𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Patrick Zweig x fem! Reader
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ MDNI, Smut, language, cheating, brat! Reader, manipulative! Reader (wolf in sheeps clothing)
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: when tashi and art start going to hard y/n with tennis, she decides to take a break from them. Confiding in none other than patrick. 🎀apart of my fic "Born Stunna". Enjoy!!
Idea from @doll-0f-flesh
𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒆, 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒐𝒍. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒉 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒍
Karma takes form in Y/N L/N. It had been a rough week for her. Art and tashi getting on her ass and her nerves. Sure she had been slacking with tennis, but could you blame her?
So much stress and hard work was bound to get to her. So, she looked for a stress reliever. That stress reliever taking form in patrick zweig. She saw the way he looked at her. His eyes following her wherever she went.
𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝑰 𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒆𝒔, 𝑰 𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒆𝒔
So, why not play it to her advantage? She told art and tashi she was going for a late night drive to clear her head. What she didnt tell them was that the passanger was none other than patrick.
"You sure about this?" He asks nervously, not wanting to get in the middle of her, art, and tashi.
"Yes pat, dont act like you dont want this as much as i do" she smirks, carressing his thigh softly.
𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒚 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇, 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝑰'𝒎 𝒔𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝑻𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐.
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"God- fuck" she gasped out as patrick bounced her on his cock in the driver seat of her car. Rain pouring down. Background noise to the sound of skin slapping skin.
"Shit" patrick moaned, bruising grip on her hips. Sure to leave marks she'd have to find a way to explain to tashi and art. "Fuck you feel like heaven" patrick groaned, eyes screwing shut and jaw falling slack. "Y'see that princess" he chuckled, looking down to see the bulge off his dick in her stomach "im in your guts." He giggled, pressing on the bulge.
Making her let out a mewl. His cock reaching places she didnt even know existed. The sting of the stretch bringing pleasure and pain. Leaning down to put her head in the crook of his neck, she started leaving open mouth kisses on it.
Making him moan, cock twitching as she lets out a particular moan. He knows that moan, thats how he knows shes close. This isnt the first time theyve done this.
"You close princess?" He speaks, grabbing the back of her neck making her look at him. "Huh?"
She nods, going to put her face back in the crook of his neck. "Nuh uh princess" he tuts, making her look at him again "want you to look at me when y'cum. Can you do that?" Nodding, she lets out a silent scream, cumming. "Atta girl" he smiles moving to kiss her neck. "Mm no marks" she whispers, earning an eyeroll from him. "Wonder what art and tashi would say if they saw you be such a slut for me" he smirked
The feeling of her cunt spasming around him getting him close also. "Fuck, m'gonna cum" he pants. "Where do you want it baby?" He asks. "Want y'to cum in me"she replied, gasping at the overstimulation. Just those words pushed him to the edge. Groaning as he came in her.
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After getting redressed, they get to talking. Giggling like idiots, her phone buzzes. Rolling her eyes opening to see a texts from tashi and 3 missed calls from art.
"Oh shit" she spit out
"What? Whats up?" Patrick furrows his eyesbrows from the sudden change of atmosphere.
Looking over to see a message that reads
'Y/N'
'Where are you?'
'Y/nnn'
'Answer your phone'
'Are you with patrick?'
oh fuck.
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