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#sharing WISTFUL GAZES
ssahotchnerr · 3 months
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hi my love!! how are you?🩷
i saw your requests are open and i wanted to ask for more jealous!aaron if you’re up for it! maybe one of the girls (probably jj or penelope) set up reader on a date and they are talking about it on the jet ride home from a case. she’s not too sure about it but wants to give it a chance…rossi and derek are hyping her up too maybe! and our man aaron is just watching thinking he’s lost his chance but little does he know she’s only going to try and get him out of her mind.
wishful thinking
these kinda plots >>> 💓 cw; bau!reader, sooo much mutual pining (they're both idiots), a touch of jealous!aaron, slight angst wc; 1k
part two
You weren't being too subtle.
As the others were settling down, getting situated for the ride home, your priorities laid elsewhere; admiring Aaron and the handsome, beautiful, handsome features he possessed.
The way his cowlicks were tousled gently over his forehead, just begging to swept back. His chiseled jawline, one your hand yearned to span across. His enviously long eyelashes. His lips-
Penelope suddenly sitting next to you pulled you from your trance, causing you to jump. It had been one of those rare instances she was needed in the field, offering her specialities on sight rather than stationed back in Quantico.
The expression she bared was rather eager, complete with a pair of googly eyes.
You laughed shakily, a faint blush creeping onto your cheeks - hoping your longing stare hadn't actually gone noticed, "May I help you?"
"So," Her grin widened, "are you excited!?"
You grimaced slightly as your mood instantly deflated. You uneasily crossed a leg over the other, "I don't know."
"Excited for what?" Morgan inputted from above; headphones in hand, twirling the headband in a circle around his index finger.
You offered a sigh in response, so Penelope took the initiative to answer for you.
"You know James Cameron? From Homeland Security?"
"Yeah, what about him?"
"He's expressed quite the interest in our fellow crime fighter." Penelope's excited grin turned back towards yourself, also nudging you with an elbow. "And so I've honorably claimed the role of Cupid and someone," More wistful eyes pointed at you, "has a date Saturday night."
"He's a catch." JJ expressed enthusiastically, dramatizing a swoon as she sat across from the two of you. "Tall, dark, handsome."
"I can vouch I've heard nothing but good things about him." Morgan teasingly ruffled the hair on the top of your head, "Way to go kid."
You offered a meek smile, squirming ever so slightly in your seat. It took everything in you to not let your gaze drift back elsewhere. "Thanks but... I'm not so sure I want to go."
"What's not to be sure about? He's smokin', successful. It'll be good for you, too. When's the last time you put yourself out there?" JJ pointed out, arching an eyebrow in emphasis.
You shrugged, your chin landing in your palm.
Clearly you couldn't go into the specifics; the truth being you had your eyes on someone else. A particular boss you all shared, sitting just a few feet away.
The whole dating scene, you've been hesitant due to said feelings. The only reason you had truly considered going out - was to get Aaron out of your mind. You've spent countless, sleepless nights thinking about him, picking apart every little interaction; the way he looked at you after you had a breakthrough at a profile, admirable enough to make you want to burst at the seams. Walking alongside him, hands centimeters apart, softly grazing his skin. The concern he showed following an unfortunate brawl with an unsub - he had almost reached out to cradle your face. But, all of which could have been entirely figments of your imagination. Wishful thinking.
But regardless, they had given you the slightest amount of hope. Which is why you waited, but you couldn't do so forever; the probability of you and him - highly unlikely.
You had two choices; to continue holding out for the impossible, or to pursue the realistic.
You peered over at Aaron, consumed entirely by the file in his lap. It didn't appear he was paying attention, and that stung. All things considered.
The truth is, he was, and disliking every single bit of it. While it looked as if he were working, he was merely scribbling on a scrap piece of paper, enough to wear it down and produce a hole; silently brooding and anxiously waiting to hear where the conversation went. The more it carried on, however, the more jealousy burned in the middle of his chest. The two of you were close, you understood him like no one else, but that itself was the issue.
He feared if you got too close, if you really, really knew him, he would damage you somehow. Or worse, you'd end up similarly to Haley - unsatisfied and yearning to leave him behind. And so, he had refrained from being proactive.
In addition, right now, part of him didn't know what hurt more; the fact you were going on a date with someone who wasn't him, or the fact that you hadn't mentioned it.
"I say go for it." Dave offered, "Trust me. I am an expert, after all."
Emily bust out laughing, "Okay."
"What do you think?" You asked over their laughter, your voice detrimentally small. "Hotch?"
Aaron's head lifted, his eyes immediately latching onto yours. It kept circling in his head; You missed your chance. You're missing your chance.
Despite the ongoing internal conflict, one he could resolve in a few simple words, he panicked.
"I don't see a reason not to." He rushed out, your heart plummeting into your stomach at his words. "Of course, don't do anything you're not comfortable with. But there's no harm in seeing if there's a connection."
Even as he spoke, he didn't sound like himself - as if someone else were doing the talking. Extremely feigned, forced. Speaking from his mind rather than his heart.
"Okay," You bit your lip, looking directly at him as you spoke. "I will."
As the others switched topics, your eyes stayed with Aaron's. A silent exchange drifted between the two of you, Spencer's current tangent seemingly miles away. Hurt, betrayal, a touch of something else too.
You exhaled deeply, turning to look out your window.
Whatever it was, it didn't matter now. Did it?
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meiieiri · 4 months
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐚 [gojo satoru]
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synopsis: you got married to gojo satoru at the edge of a frozen lake in summer.
pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader
warnings/tags: heavy angst, a love that’s TOO LITTLE TOO LATE if one can even call that a tag, unrequited love (kinda).
Marriage is a golden ring on a chain whose beginning is a single glance between two unsuspecting souls that ends with eternity.
Twelve years. You’ve loved him through twelve springs. It’s bittersweet to think how a person could give another their youth for free. But then again, the only things that you truly keep are the things you give away. That’s just life, isn’t it? And besides, you take a step towards the blue peony littered aisle with a wistful smile on your face as you picture a certain arctic-haired man standing at the other end, when it comes to matters of the heart, keeping ledgers of the love you give and the love you receive is a futile effort.
You should probably put that in your vows later. But ah, what did it matter? Satoru’s probably just gonna wing it later, arguing that expressions of love should be light-hearted and candid much like the love you share.
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“Y/N-chan~!” He steps in front of you, his tall form towering over you as he catches you by the student lounge’s vending machine. Shoko smirks behind you, pulling Suguru ahead of you to leave the two of you alone. She nudges you forward and you cast her a betrayed look to which she only replies with an innocent shrug. It’s common knowledge to everyone in Tokyo Jujutsu High how you feel about the Gojo clan’s illustrious little starlet.
Well, it was common knowledge to everyone except Satoru Gojo.
And you don’t know if you find that comforting or saddening.
Comforting that he wouldn’t find out about your feelings from someone else, though you’re still working up the courage to fess up, you wholeheartedly believe that this is something he should hear from you and you alone. Saddening that maybe the reason he’s been all blissfully ignorant of how your breath becomes shallow whenever he’s around you is he’s actually already aware of your feelings towards him and he’s only deflecting it.
“We’ll go ahead, Y/N,” Shoko says in a sing-song voice, taking your cursed tool from you. “Come see me if you have any injuries!”
“But if it’s a broken heart, she probably can’t fix it,” Suguru chimes in, winking at Satoru as if to say: ‘Go talk to her.’ before turning to follow his girlfriend.
A hush falls between you and Satoru, unspoken words swirling around the two of you like a symphony of longing. Both of you seem to be saying the same thing:
Should I tell her?
Should I tell him?
What would she say?
Would he leave?
If the truth is meant to set you free, then he is your jailer. Why is he content with never uttering those words aloud? Why are you so eager to stay in the hedge maze of your mind, seeking his shadow at every corner? This was a tiring game of hide and seek.
But Satoru is completely fine with letting it drag on if it meant he’d never risk losing you.
And you were fine with that too. You were fine being a prisoner to your truth as long as he was with you in this jail cell. You were fine.
Whatever fine means.
“Wanna go to the arcade?” Satoru looks at you with a shimmering bittersweet look in his eyes.
You smile and a breathy laugh falls from your lips causing his face to light up even more.
“That depends, you gonna let me win?”
“Never.”
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“Y/N! There you are.”
You turn around to see an older Shoko, her youthful bob cut having outgrown its juvenile flare. She looks out of breath, she must have run around the venue looking for you and judging from the way she keeps glancing at her watch, and the exasperated look she was throwing your way at the sight of you still in your silk robe, you needed to get moving.
But your feet remain planted in the middle of the empty aisle, your gaze trained on the arch.
“You feeling okay?” Shoko asks, her hand finding yours in a tender display of solidarity. “It’s okay to be nervous, you know.”
You flash her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I know. Just…deep in thought.”
“Yeah.”
Weddings are always so beautiful, you think to yourself as Shoko steps back giving you some space as you contemplate the day ahead. Your fingers trace one of the satin linens adorning the trellises much like your heart traces the contours of a love too delicate to verbalize, too powerful to ignore. Your gaze dances over the elegant arrangements of blue, white and gray, the scent of grapefruit-quince adorning the air, mixing with the scent of peonies, jasmines and white musk.
Everything here speaks of the imminent union of two souls finding their way to each other. And how comforting it is to know that no matter where you wander, all paths inevitably lead to Satoru Gojo. And you have your drunk cartographer heart to thank for that.
“He loves you,” Shoko finally says, catching your wrist to bring you over to the gazebo to get touched up.
“…I know.”
You look back at the empty aisle, with all but one question in your mind.
What happens when simply knowing is no longer enough?
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“Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again with my sunglasses off?”
You nearly choke on your yogurt drink when you see yet another stunningly familiar light blue sticky note on your desk. Satoru fucking Gojo is going to be the death of you one day. Your touch grazes over the hastily scribbled note, a small smile playing at your lips as you take out a white pad of sticky notes from your school bag. After collecting your thoughts, you decide to play along with his little game, your heart fluttering when you realize that this back and forth could actually be considered flirting.
“There’s no such thing as love at first sight. And sorry, pretty boys like you aren’t exactly my type.”
Satoru finds the white sticky note plastered on his stool in Jujutsu Tech’s science lab. Despite the playful jab in your reply, Satoru is hyperfixated on the fact that you just called him pretty. Did you really mean it? He bites the inside of his cheek being careful not to grin too much in fear of Suguru catching wind of what’s happening — the strongest sorcerer of this generation being caught off-guard by his little crush? Detestable!
“You think I’m pretty? ;) I knew it.”
Shoko looks at you funnily, you’re practically red as a tomato with how you’re fuming from the ears and sputtering about how ridiculous Satoru is being. “He’s just so…so…!”
“You really should work on finishing your sentences now~”
You are interrupted at the sight Satoru practically hopping down the steps leading to the training field with a convenience store bag tucked under his arm and you sigh exasperatedly, turning away as if he was a bug that’s hovering over your ear that you really shouldn’t be paying attention to. All of his six foot two form plops down next to you and you jump when he presses a cold ice cream bar to your cheek.
“You’re awfully generous today, Satoru,” you smirk, accepting and lifting the ice cream bar in silent gratitude, suppressing the blush creeping onto your cheeks.
Satoru blushes himself, his hand coming up to rub the back of his head as a comfortable silence falls between the two of you. Shit, say something, Satoru thinks to himself. Was he being too obvious? Did you somehow piece it together now that he has feelings for you?
In his internal dilemma, Satoru settles for undermining the deliberate gesture.
“I only needed two more stickers to get this really neat toy,” Satoru explains, reaching into the convenience store bag and pulling out his new tamagotchi. “Pretty worth it, I would say. The one I saw in Akihabara is being sold for 7500 yen, but that’s the angelgotch variety, so I kinda get the whole roadside robbery thing.”
Of course, he steered the conversation elsewhere. You’re not even surprised at this point that he’ll always only stay at the surface when he treads these long drawn out conversations with you, too afraid to say anything more — do anything more — than what was necessary as your friend.
Keyword: friend.
He had no obligation to you other than being your friend. And you don’t blame him. You’re not angry at him that he’s only willing to stay in shallow water with you, it’s just…
“Hey, I have to go, Yaga’s calling me.” Satoru casually interrupts your train of heartbroken thoughts, but you do not miss the unease in his voice, he almost sounds sorry that he has to bail again.
But you already send him off with a reluctant thumbs up. As you look at his retreating form, he stops for a bit at the stone tori gate, his head bowed in thought, you don’t know why you held your breath. He reaches into his pocket, but thinks better of it, and he paces two hesitant steps forward.
Then, he looks back to meet your eyes from afar.
And his heart clenches in a mixture of affection and exasperation when you are the first to blushingly look away.
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The ten feet separating the two of you is very reminiscent of how you began: running in opposite directions to outdo the other in your competition to see who can act that they care less, placing more distance between your flustered hearts. Satoru gazes at you as if he’s seen the divine incarnated into a single beautiful being. He wipes a tear from his eye, sniffing momentarily, watching you gracefully float down the aisle with an equally smitten expression on your features.
Clutching the bouquet in your hands, you don’t break eye contact and everything seems to unfold like a motion picture before your very eyes, your and Satoru’s life together in vivid cinematography: your first dance later tonight, your first trip out of the country together for your honeymoon, your first time, your first year, your first child. Everything. You’ve imagined Satoru to be your first in everything. And as you make your way to the aisle, tears glistening in both your orbs, you stop to meet in the middle, the two of you standing on fate’s edge together.
He casts you a look, and you offer him a melancholic smile.
This was it.
The doors open and his bride arrives, and you move to the side, taking your place next to Shoko, painfully leaving the space you and Satoru briefly shared, a space that was never meant for you in the first place.
Which begs the question again: what happens when knowing is no longer enough?
Or is it…the two of you never knew at all how the other felt?
No, you and Shoko watch as Satoru stares at you from his peripheral, his heart fragmenting into irreparable pieces at each step his bride makes towards him.
Should I tell her?
Should I tell him?
What would she say?
Would he leave?
The answer is clear now. He wouldn’t have left. Things were just left unsaid, never admitted — the words that you longed to hear from one another never fell from your lips. Not once in the twelve years you secretly held him in your heart. And thus, fate then decreed that love is for the brave, and not for cowardly souls like you and Satoru Gojo.
And with whatever strength you have left, uncaring if this would cause you to look scandalous: a bridesmaid going after the groom, you mouth the words: “I love you.”
A pained smile appears on his lips, an allegory to the goofy grins he used to flash you when you two were young, and he nods, tears in his eyes.
This was twelve years too late. But it’s better than never.
“I knew it.”
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marysfics · 9 days
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Tracing Memories in the Morning Light
Your daughter notices your wife's tattoos.
Fluff, pure fluff
The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. It was a rare morning in the Putellas household where nothing was pulling either of you out of bed. No matches, no training sessions, no schedules, just a day to be together.
Alexia lay on her stomach beside you, her eyes half-closed, while your little girl, who was just shy of walking, nestled between the two of you.
She still didn’t talk yet, just sweet babbles that made your heart swell, but her expressions said more than words could.
You were sitting up, your back resting against the headboard, watching as your daughter clambered onto your wife's back with that determined look she always wore.
A small giggle escaped your lips as her tiny hands explored Alexia’s tattoos, her fingers tracing the inked lines with fascination.
“She’s obsessed with your tattoos,” you murmured, reaching over to brush a lock of Alexia’s hair away from her face.
Alexia smiled softly, eyes still closed, her voice low and sleepy. “She’s always like this when she notices them. It’s like she’s trying to figure them out.”
Your daughter gave a small, delighted squeal as her hands landed on the tattooed rose near Alexia’s shoulder blade, fingers gently patting it as if to say, What is this?
“Careful, baby,” you chuckled softly, guiding her little hands so she wasn’t pressing too hard. “Mama’s not a coloring book.”
Alexia let out a laugh, her back muscles rippling slightly under your daughter’s touch. “She might disagree with you on that,” she teased, turning her head slightly to glance at you. “I’m her favorite canvas.”
“She’s definitely an artist in the making,” you replied, your heart melting as you watched your little girl lean down and place a slobbery kiss on Alexia’s back, right on the tattoo. You and Alexia both burst out laughing.
“That’s one way to appreciate art, I suppose,” Alexia said, her voice warm with affection. She turned onto her side gently, careful not to dislodge the baby, who now sat between you both, her wide eyes watching your movements as if she understood the moment was special.
You leaned down and kissed the top of your daughter’s head, inhaling that sweet baby scent that somehow never faded. “You’re such a little explorer today,” you whispered to her. She responded with a series of babbles, lifting her arms toward you.
You pulled her into your lap, and she immediately snuggled against you, her tiny head resting under your chin. Alexia scooted closer, propping herself up on her elbow, her eyes soft as they roamed over the both of you.
“I could get used to this,” Alexia said quietly, her hand coming up to stroke your daughter’s back, her thumb brushing against the soft fabric of her onesie. “No rush, no pressure. Just… us.”
“Yeah,” you agreed, leaning your head back against the pillow, your eyes meeting Alexia’s. “It’s not often we get this, is it?”
“No,” she admitted, her expression turning slightly wistful. “But that’s what makes it special.”
Your daughter shifted in your lap, her tiny hand reaching out toward Alexia again, her fingers making a beeline for the small tattoo on her wrist this time. Alexia chuckled, offering her hand for exploration.
“She really is fascinated by them, huh?” you mused, watching your little girl’s concentration as if she was deciphering some great mystery.
Alexia nodded. “Maybe when she’s older, she’ll ask me about them. About what they mean.” She looked at you, her eyes softening. “About the memories behind them.”
You smiled at the thought. “And you’ll tell her all your stories. All the ones she hasn’t lived yet but will one day be a part of.”
Alexia’s gaze lingered on you, something unspoken passing between you both, a shared understanding of how these quiet, intimate moments were the ones that made everything else worth it.
The games, the traveling, the time apart.
It all led back to this.
To home.
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crackedpumpkin · 1 year
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ɪɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ
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Warnings: Mild spoilers for Across The Spiderverse, one (1) curse word, angst, unrequited love.
word count: 1, 545
[ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]
In every other universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman.
“Right,” You snort, closing the comic book in your hands and placing it back into the pile on Miles’s bed. He glances up from the comic he’s reading, raising a brow at your sceptical expression. 
“What?” He hums in amusement, casually grabbing a candy bar from his pocket and tossing it to you. It almost slips from your fingers, but you manage to catch it just in time with a playful eye roll.
“What’s so bad about Gwen Stacy ending up with Spiderman, anyway?” 
“It’s just,” you hesitate. Would he think it’s stupid? “It’s unrealistic. I mean, it’s nice that Spiderman has a predestined love, but it doesn’t mean that it has to go by the book, y’know? It’s his life. Maybe there’s a really rude and narcissistic Gwen out there in another universe.”
“W-well, what if there isn’t? I’m pretty sure that there are good Gwens out there.” You look at him curiously, wondering what’s got him so defensive. 
“What’s got your undies in a twist?” You chuckle at his earlier words, the tautness in his voice a surprise. Leaning back against the wall next to his bed, you kick your feet up to rest next to his arm, watching him frown and shove you off playfully.
“It’s nothing.” He tries to laugh it off, but the hint of nervousness in his eyes suggests otherwise. You narrow your eyes at him, watching him rub the back of his neck as beads of sweat form on his hand. 
He’s lying. Why?
“Okay,” You choose to say instead, letting him be as you turn away. Your heartstrings tug slightly at the wistful look in his eyes when he stares at the front cover of the comic you were reading earlier, the illustration of Gwen Stacy clear as day.
You know he’s hiding something from you, something big. Ever since last month, he’d been cancelling hangouts and study sessions, and he’s always coming up with new excuses to avoid hanging out with you. During the few times you get to meet him, Miles always has a hint of nostalgia in his words, a glint of longing in his eyes as if he’d rather be with other people.
It hurts. 
And it hurts even more when you planned to confess to him last week on the rooftop, only for him to show up hours late. He called you in a panic, apologies spilling past his lips before you promised you weren’t mad. 
On the other end of the phone, however, you throw away the letter you’d so painstakingly written for him, just for that day. All the words prepared were useless, fading into the corner of your mind when you heard his voice on the phone. 
“It’s fine,” You promised him countless times, hearing nothing but hesitance in his words when he checked to make sure it really was fine. Since then, you decided to squash down your confession, constantly procrastinating the day you tell him how you really feel.
“What about tomorrow’s bio test? You studied?” You ask, turning your head to see him freeze at the mention of the test he most definitely hasn’t studied for. He smiles sheepishly, silently pleading for you to share your notes with him. 
“You and me against the world, right?” He grins, holding out his hand for a fist bump as he sits on his bed from his lazy position. 
“Right,” You chuckle, grabbing the binder and notebook from your bag and handing it to him. You watch him flip through the pages fondly, eyes tracing the outline of his face and your gaze lingering on his lips.
You and him against the world.
It's always been you two for as long as you can remember. From the day you met in kindergarten to now, even as he stands in front of you in his Spiderman suit. 
You let out a disbelieving laugh, sitting down on your bed. Shocked doesn't even begin to describe how you're feeling right now. You come home from school and decide to drop by Miles’s apartment, waiting in his room with your feet propped onto his desk, only to see motherfucking Spiderman crawl into the room and pull off his mask to reveal your childhood friend (and the boy you’re in love with).
Miles had been keeping such a huge secret from you this whole time. You're ready to punch him - to scold him even, for not telling you earlier. He’s your best friend, but apparently, he doesn't feel the same way if he’s been hiding this from you. Aren’t you trustworthy enough? 
Aren’t you good enough?
His eyes are wide and filled with pure fear, hands trembling as he hugs himself, bracing his emotions for when you finally get mad. Your breaths are shaky, eyes flitting between him and the mask he holds in his hands. Flickers of anger begin to sink in, the claws of self-doubt sinking into your chest.
But a moment of clarity hits you. Miles didn't need a reaction right now. He needs you. He needs his best friend.
"Okay. Okay," You repeat through a slow exhale, looking up at him with a nod of acceptance. You simply gesture for him to sit down next to you. He does so without a word, automatically leaning his head on your shoulder like he always does when he's nervous and scared.
"You're not mad?" He asks softly. You shake your head, bringing his hand up to plant a soft kiss on his knuckles, ignoring the slight flutter in your chest as your lips graze against the skin.
To him, the action meant little, a comforting gesture used between you both since you were kids.
But to you, it means everything else. You try to push down the way your heart speeds up when his breaths brush against the exposed skin of your shoulders, hoping he won’t look up and see your gaze filled with pure love and concern for him.
Instead, you stare straight ahead at the window that overlooks the next few apartment buildings. The sunset is beautiful, auburn orange bathing the graffiti-covered concrete in a warm glow that has you wishing this isn’t the situation you’re in now. He tucks his head under yours, and your cheek presses against his hair, watching the sunset together. 
"I'm not mad," You promise in a soft sigh, feeling him finally relax under you. He mumbles out thanks, and you merely grin, pressing another casual peck on his hand, the both of you falling silent after.
And for once in the five years that you've grown to love him more than he'd ever know, this time, you're not lying. 
— — — — — 
It's the day of the celebration, a joyous occasion meant to act as a hallmark for Mr Morales’s promotion.
But Miles is nowhere to be found. After returning from god knows where he disappeared, he returns with a girl.
Gwanda is her name. You stare at the blonde hair, the strawberry-coloured tips catching your eyes. The colour looks pretty on her. Her nervous disposition only makes you slightly suspicious, watching her leave from a short distance away after Mrs Morales approaches them.
But judging from the look in Miles's eyes after his mom talks to him, you know.
The way he looks at her is different. He's never had such fondness in his gaze with you, much less watching you walk away with such regret. So you walk to him and hand him your drink which he takes a sip from, and pat his shoulder with a reassuring smile.
"Go." 
"You sure?"
"I'll be fine here. Besides, I’m sure I can handle a few hours of distracting your dad." You chuckle with a roll of your eyes, pushing down the pained pang in your heart at his bright smile. Every fibre of your being screams at you to grab onto his arm, to never let go. They scream at you to part your lips and let the words festering in your heart finally spill out.
But even as your eyes linger on him with a hollow grin, he doesn’t notice.
And that’s the difference.
"Thanks. Hey, you and me against the world, right?" Miles grins, placing a soft peck on your forehead. You bat him away with a faint smile, struggling to keep the tears from forming in your eyes. If he didn’t leave in the next ten seconds, you’re not sure you can no longer hold back your choked hiccups.
"Just come back to me, okay?" 
He nods, a silent promise lingering in the air between you both. To him, it's a promise of return, to come back safe.
To you, it's a promise filled with desperation, wanting nothing more than for your Miles to come back to you. For your Miles to see you in the same light he views Gwanda in. To see you the way he sees her. 
Maybe he was right all along. Maybe in every other universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman.
You watch him leave with an excited grin on his lips, taking a sip from your cup and wishing that the fizzy liquid could drown your sorrows instead.
And in every other universe, you wish it were you.
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23victoria · 2 months
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off the table
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pairings: lewis hamilton x fem!reader
word count: 13k
warnings: SMUT (wrap it before you tap it), toxic relationship, cheating, miscommunication, cussing, best friends to lovers, idiots in love, mentions of educational burnout, semi-double pov
authors note: listen to off the table by ariana grande ft. the weeknd 13k words is insane to me, this is the most i’ve ever wrote, i had so much fun writing this honestly, i pray it’s not shit…cause that would be embarrassing, ignore any typos please, also a little self indulgent (not all the way, trust)okay i’m done, hope you enjoy!!
want to be tagged in my works?! CLICK HERE
f1 masterlist 1k celebration
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You met Lewis when you were just seven years old. It was a typical summer day, the sun high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the park. You were new to the neighborhood, shy and unsure of yourself, clutching the handles of your bike as if it were your lifeline. The other kids seemed so confident, racing around on their bikes, laughing and shouting as they sped down the dirt paths. You stood on the sidelines, watching, wishing you could join in but not quite brave enough to take the first step.
That's when you noticed him—a boy with wild curls and a bright smile, his bike skidding to a stop in front of you. "Hey, do you want to race?" he asked, his voice filled with enthusiasm. You hesitated, glancing down at your bike, then back at him. He must have sensed your uncertainty because he grinned and added, "I'll go easy on you, I promise."
Something about his easy confidence made you smile, and before you knew it, you were racing side by side with him, the wind whipping through your hair as you pedaled as fast as you could. You didn't win—Lewis was too fast for that—but it didn't matter. For the first time since moving, you felt like you belonged.
From that day on, you and Lewis were inseparable. Every afternoon after school, you'd meet at the park, racing your bikes until the sun dipped below the horizon. He told you about his love for karting, his eyes lighting up as he described the thrill of speeding around the track, the roar of the engine in his ears. You didn't understand it entirely—karts seemed like a bigger, scarier version of your bike—but you loved listening to him talk about it, the way his passion seemed to pour out of him.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
As the years went by, your friendship with Lewis deepened. You became each other's confidants, sharing your dreams and fears late into the night. You told him about your dream of becoming a doctor, and he listened with the same intensity he showed on the track. In return, he confided in you about his aspirations in racing, how he wanted to be the best, to make his family proud.
There were moments, though, where something unspoken lingered between you—moments where his gaze seemed to linger a little too long, where his touch seemed a little too tender. But you never noticed, too caught up in your own world to see the way his feelings for you were evolving.
One day, when you were both fourteen, you were sitting in your room, studying for a biology test. Lewis had come over to help you with your homework, but you ended up talking about everything except schoolwork. "Do you ever think about the future?" you asked, lying on your bed with a textbook open in front of you.
"All the time," he admitted, glancing over at you. "I think about racing, where I'll be, who I'll be with."
You smiled, oblivious to the hint of something more in his words. "I bet you'll be famous," you teased, nudging him playfully. "I'll be able to say I knew you before you were cool."
He laughed, but there was a wistfulness in his eyes. "What about you? Where do you see yourself?"
You shrugged, turning your attention back to your textbook. "Hopefully in med school, maybe even Harvard if I can get in. Saving lives and all that."
There was a pause, and when you looked back at him, you saw something flicker in his expression, something you couldn't quite place. But before you could ask, he smiled and said, "You'll get in. I know you will."
You didn't know it then, but that was one of the many moments where he almost told you how he felt. But your casual mention of Harvard, of a future that seemed so far from his own, made him hesitate. How could he confess his feelings when it seemed like your dreams were leading you in opposite directions?
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When you were sixteen, Lewis's karting career began to take off even more. He was spending more time at the track, traveling for races, and you were busy with school. But despite the distance, you stayed close, texting each other daily, finding time to hang out whenever he was home.
One evening, after one of his races, he invited you to a celebratory dinner with his family. You were honored, knowing how important these moments were to him. As you sat across from him at the table, laughing and talking with his family, you felt a warmth in your chest, a sense of belonging that you couldn't quite explain.
After dinner, as you walked back to your car, Lewis caught your arm, stopping you. "Hey, can we talk for a minute?" he asked, his voice unusually serious.
"Of course," you replied, a little surprised by his tone. You turned to face him, and for a moment, you just stood there, looking at each other in the dim light of the streetlamp.
He seemed to struggle with his words, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. "I've been meaning to tell you something," he began, his voice low. "It's just... we've known each other for so long, and you've always been there for me. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled, completely missing the deeper meaning behind them. "You're my best friend, Lewis. I'll always be there for you, no matter what."
He looked down, a slight frown tugging at his lips. "Yeah, best friends," he repeated, his voice softer now. "But what if—"
Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, interrupting the moment. You pulled it out, glancing at the screen, and saw a text from a boy in your class that you'd been talking to. "Sorry, it's just Josh," you said, quickly typing a response.
When you looked back up, Lewis's expression had shifted, the vulnerability from moments before gone. "No worries," he said, forcing a smile. "I just wanted to say that I'm really proud of you. For everything."
You felt a pang of guilt, sensing that you had missed something important, but you pushed it aside, giving him a quick hug. "Thanks, Lewis. That means a lot."
As you drove home that night, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. Meanwhile, Lewis watched you leave, the words he had almost said hanging heavy in the air. He had been so close to telling you how he felt, but your mention of Josh had stopped him. How could he compete with someone who was already making you smile in ways he only dreamed of?
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As you started high school, you started dating Josh. He was sweet, attentive, and everything you thought you wanted in a boyfriend. Lewis, ever the supportive friend, smiled and encouraged you, even as his heart ached every time he saw you with someone else.
He watched from the sidelines as your relationship with Josh blossomed, always there to lend a listening ear when things got tough. And when Josh broke your heart, leaving you devastated just before prom, Lewis was the first person you called.
"I can't believe he did this," you sobbed into the phone, your voice thick with tears.
"I'll be right there," Lewis replied without hesitation. Within minutes, he was at your door, pulling you into a comforting embrace. He held you as you cried, his hand gently stroking your hair, murmuring soothing words into your ear.
"You deserve so much better," he whispered, his heart breaking alongside yours. "Anyone who can't see how amazing you are doesn't deserve you."
You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Why can't all guys be like you, Lewis?"
He smiled sadly, wishing he could tell you that he would never hurt you the way Josh did, that he would cherish you and make you feel loved every day. But instead, he just said, "Because they're not smart enough to realize what they have."
In that moment, you realized how much you had taken Lewis for granted, how he had always been there for you, even when you didn't deserve it. But you still didn't see the depth of his feelings for you, too caught up in your own heartbreak to notice the way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world.
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When it came time to apply for college, you were determined to go to the one with the best medical program, whether it was Harvard, Yale, Duke, or John Hopkins. You had worked so hard throughout high school, dedicating countless hours to your studies, extracurriculars, and volunteer work. It was your dream, and you weren't going to let anything stand in your way.
Lewis, on the other hand, was focused on his racing career. He had already been scouted by several teams, and it was clear that his future was on the track. You were both proud of each other's accomplishments, but there was an unspoken tension between you as the reality of your diverging paths began to sink in.
The day you received your acceptance letter from Harvard was bittersweet. You were overjoyed to have achieved your dream, but the thought of leaving Lewis behind filled you with a sense of loss. You had always imagined that you would be there for each other through everything, but now it seemed like your lives were pulling you in different directions.
"I got in," you told Lewis when you saw him later that day, your voice filled with a mix of excitement and sadness.
He smiled, pulling you into a tight hug. "I knew you would," he said, his voice proud but tinged with something else. "You're going to do amazing things, Y/N/N."
"But I'll miss you," you admitted, your heart aching at the thought of being so far away from him.
"I'll miss you too," he replied, his voice quiet. "But we'll stay in touch, right? It's not like we're never going to see each other again."
You nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Of course. We'll text and call all the time. And I'll visit whenever I can."
He smiled, but there was a sadness in his eyes that you couldn't ignore. "Yeah, we'll make it work."
As the summer passed, you and Lewis spent as much time together as possible, trying to make the most of your remaining days before you both went off to pursue your dreams. There were moments of laughter and joy, but also moments of quiet reflection, as you both grappled with the reality of what was to come.
On your last night before leaving for college, you and Lewis sat on the roof of his house, staring up at the stars. It was a tradition you had started when you were kids, a way to escape the world and just be together in the silence of the night.
"I'm really going to miss this," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Me too," he replied, his gaze fixed on the sky.
You turned to look at him, your heart heavy with a mix of emotions. "Promise me we'll stay close, no matter what."
He finally looked at you, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "I promise," he said, his voice steady and sincere.
You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Lewis."
He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "You'll never have to find out," he said, his voice filled with a quiet determination.
As you sat there together, the weight of unspoken words hung between you, but neither of you said anything more. There was a part of Lewis that wanted to tell you everything—to confess his feelings, to ask you to stay—but he knew it wouldn't be fair. You had your own dreams to chase, and he couldn't ask you to give them up for him.
So instead, he kept his promise, supporting you from afar as you embarked on the next chapter of your life. You texted and called as often as you could, sharing stories of your experiences at Harvard, while he told you about his progress in racing. The distance was hard, but you both did your best to stay connected.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
College was everything you had hoped it would be. You excelled in your classes, made new friends, and even started dating again. But no matter how busy you were, there was always a part of you that missed Lewis. You missed the way he made you laugh, the way he could always make you feel better no matter what was going on in your life.
You visited home during the holidays, and every time you saw Lewis, it was like no time had passed at all. You fell back into your old routines, spending hours talking and laughing, as if the distance between you had never existed.
But there were moments when you noticed a change in him—moments when he seemed quieter, more reserved. You didn't think much of it at first, chalking it up to the stress of his racing career. But as time went on, you began to wonder if there was something more.
One night, during your winter break, you and Lewis went for a drive, just like you used to do when you were younger. The streets were quiet, the city lights reflecting off the snow-covered ground. You talked about everything and nothing, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence.
As you drove past your old high school, memories flooded back, and you found yourself laughing at the thought of how much had changed since then. "Can you believe it's been four years since we graduated?" you asked, glancing over at Lewis.
He smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Yeah, it's crazy how time flies."
You sighed, your smile fading as you thought about how much your lives had diverged since high school. "Do you ever miss the way things used to be?" you asked, your voice filled with a touch of nostalgia.
"All the time," he admitted, his voice quiet.
There was a moment of silence as you both reflected on the past, and for a brief second, you thought you saw something in his expression that made your heart skip a beat. But before you could say anything, he turned away, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.
"I've been thinking," he began, his voice hesitant, "about how different our lives are now. You're at college, I'm racing in F2... it's like we're living in two separate worlds."
You frowned, unsure of where he was going with this. "But we're still friends, Lewis. That hasn't changed."
"I know," he said quickly, "but sometimes I wonder if..." He trailed off, as if struggling to find the right words.
"If what?" you prompted, your heart pounding in your chest.
He shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."
You wanted to push him, to ask him what he was really thinking, but something in his tone made you stop. Instead, you just nodded, deciding to let it go.
As the night wore on, you found yourself growing more and more frustrated with your inability to understand what was going on with Lewis. You had always been able to read him like a book, but now it felt like there was a wall between you, something unspoken that neither of you could break through.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
The next few years passed in a blur of classes, exams, and racing events. You and Lewis remained close, but the distance between you became more pronounced as time went on. You both pursued your dreams with a single-minded determination, but in the process, you began to drift further apart.
There were moments when you wondered if you had made the right choice, if maybe you should have stayed closer to home, closer to Lewis. But every time you thought about it, you pushed the thoughts aside, telling yourself that you were doing what you were meant to do.
Lewis, on the other hand, struggled with his feelings for you more than ever. He watched from afar as you continued to excel in your studies, as you dated other people, as you lived a life that seemed so different from his own. But he never stopped caring about you, never stopped being there for you whenever you needed him.
And though he never told you, he knew deep down that he would always love you, even if you never felt the same way about him.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
Your life took a different turn when you least expected it. You had always been focused, driven, and passionate about becoming a doctor. The years of studying, the late nights in the library, the relentless pursuit of knowledge—it all felt like it was leading you toward a future you had envisioned since childhood. But as time went on, something inside you began to shift.
It started subtly at first, a creeping sense of exhaustion that no amount of sleep seemed to cure. The long hours in the lab, the constant pressure to excel, the never-ending cycle of exams and practicals—it all began to weigh on you. You could feel the burnout setting in, the stress gnawing away at your enthusiasm. You told yourself that it was normal, that every med student went through this phase, that it was just another hurdle to overcome. But deep down, you knew something was wrong.
Your friends noticed it too. They saw the dark circles under your eyes, the way you seemed to retreat into yourself, the way your laughter had become rare, replaced by a quiet, pervasive anxiety. One of your closest friends at the time, a fellow student who had always been attuned to your moods, suggested something radical: "Why don't you try something different for a while? Just to take the pressure off."
You were taken aback by the suggestion. "Like what?" you asked, genuinely curious. You couldn't imagine stepping away from your studies, even for a moment. But the exhaustion was so overwhelming that you were willing to entertain any idea that might offer some relief.
"Have you ever thought about acting?" your friend asked, a mischievous smile playing on their lips. "You've always had a flair for drama, and you're great at expressing yourself. It could be fun, and who knows? It might help you recharge."
The idea was so out of left field that you laughed. Acting? You had never seriously considered it. Sure, you had participated in a few school plays when you were younger, but it was always just for fun, never something you thought of as a career. But the more you thought about it, the more the idea intrigued you. Maybe stepping away from the rigid structure of medical school could be exactly what you needed. Maybe exploring a different side of yourself could reignite the passion that had been dwindling for medicine.
On a whim, you decided to give it a try. You signed up for an acting workshop, just to see if you had any talent or interest in it. To your surprise, you loved it. The freedom of expression, the creativity, the way you could lose yourself in a character and forget about the stress of your real life—it was exhilarating. For the first time in months, you felt genuinely happy, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.
Encouraged by the positive experience, you started attending more workshops, getting involved in local theater productions, and even taking a few acting classes on the side. It was all just for fun at first, a way to balance out the intensity of your studies. But the more you immersed yourself in the world of acting, the more you realized how much you enjoyed it.
Then came the fateful day when everything changed. One of your acting instructors, who had been impressed by your natural talent, mentioned that a casting call was being held for a new movie. It was a big-budget production, with a well-known director at the helm, and they were looking for fresh faces to fill the lead roles. Your instructor encouraged you to audition, insisting that you had the potential to land the part.
At first, you hesitated. The idea of auditioning for a major film seemed absurd. You were a med student, not a professional actress. But something inside you, that same part that had pushed you to explore acting in the first place, urged you to go for it. What did you have to lose?
So, with a mix of nerves and excitement, you prepared for the audition. You worked on your lines, practiced your delivery, and did your best to channel the emotions of the character you were auditioning for. The day of the audition arrived, and you walked into the casting room with your heart pounding in your chest.
To your amazement, the audition went better than you could have imagined. You felt a connection with the character, a sense of ease in front of the camera that surprised even you. The casting directors seemed impressed, and you left the audition feeling a strange mix of exhilaration and disbelief.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
A few weeks later, you received the call that would change your life. You had landed the lead role in the movie. You couldn't believe it. This was supposed to be a temporary distraction, a way to relieve stress—not the start of a new career. But here you were, about to step into the world of professional acting.
The decision to accept the role was not an easy one. It meant putting your medical studies on hold, something that terrified you. You had worked so hard to get where you were, and the thought of stepping away felt like abandoning a part of yourself. But there was also a part of you that was excited, that saw this as an incredible opportunity, a chance to do something completely different.
You’re pacing your dorm apartment, the walls suddenly feeling too close, the air too thick. You can’t breathe. The call is stuck in your mind, you’ve been offered the lead role in a major movie—a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But the timing couldn’t be worse. You’re just a year away from completing your medical degree. A year. After all the sleepless nights, endless studying, and grueling rotations, it’s all so close to paying off. And yet…
You drop onto your bed, head in your hands, and your thoughts spiral out of control. What if you’re making a mistake? What if you take the role and regret it? What if you stay in medicine and never know what could have been? You feel your chest tightening, panic creeping in. You need to talk to someone. You need to talk to him.
Without thinking, you reach for your phone and press Lewis’s contact. As the phone rings, you silently beg for him to pick up. “Please, Lewis, pick up. Please, please, please…”
The call connects, and you hear a groggy voice on the other end. “Y/N/N? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His voice is laced with concern, but there’s a hint of sleep still clinging to his words.
Your heart drops. You forgot. You completely forgot that he’s in Belgium for the race at Spa. You glance at the clock, realizing just how late it is over there. “Oh my God, Lewis, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I completely forgot about the time difference and your race tomorrow…”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says, his voice softening. “I’m awake now. Are you alright? What’s going on?”
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the words tumble out in a rush. “I got offered the lead in a major movie, and I don’t know if I should take it. I’m just a year away from finishing med school, and it feels insane to stop now. But at the same time, this is such a huge opportunity, and I’m spiraling, and you were the first person I thought of to call.”
There’s a pause on the other end, and you can almost hear him processing what you’ve just said. “Lead role in a movie? Acting? You’re an actress? When did this happen?”
You blink, realizing you’ve never told him. Your heart sinks a little further. “Oh… yeah, I guess we haven’t talked in a while, have we?”
Silence hangs between you for a moment, heavy with unspoken words. “Yeah,” he finally says, the word carrying more weight than it should. “We haven’t.”
You clear your throat, trying to push past the awkwardness. “I was feeling burned out with all the studying, and a friend suggested I try something new to take my mind off it. I took an acting class, just for fun, but then one class turned into two, and before I knew it, I was hooked. And now… now I’m being offered a lead role in a movie. Crazy, right? How things change so fast…”
He exhales slowly, as if trying to absorb everything you’ve just told him. “Yeah… yeah, it is crazy.” There’s another pause, but this time it feels different—more contemplative. “Look, Y/N/N, I know this is a huge decision, and it’s not one you can take lightly. But I also know you. You’re not someone who backs down from a challenge. You’ve got this incredible intuition, this ability to know what’s right for you, even if it’s terrifying. If acting is something that excites you, something that makes you feel alive, then maybe it’s worth exploring. You’re not giving up on medicine; you’re just… taking a detour. Following your heart. And whatever you decide, I’ll be here to support you. I believe in you.”
His words wash over you, calming the storm inside your mind. You feel a warmth spread through your chest, easing the tightness that had gripped you just moments before. “Thank you, Lewis. I really needed to hear that.”
“Of course,” he replies softly. “I’m glad I could help.”
You smile, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “Good luck with your race tomorrow. I’m sorry again for disturbing you.”
“Don’t be,” he says, his voice tinged with affection. “I’m always here for you, no matter what. And thanks—I’ll need that luck.”
A comfortable silence falls between you, the kind that only exists between people who’ve known each other for years. You can almost picture him on the other end of the line, smiling that soft, reassuring smile of his.
“It’s really good to hear your voice,” you say, your tone almost wistful.
“Yeah,” he echoes, a hint of something unspoken in his voice. “It is.”
You close your eyes, letting the moment linger, not wanting it to end. But eventually, you know it must. “Goodnight, Lewis.”
“Goodnight, Y/N/N.”
The call ends, and you’re left in the quiet of your dorm room, the weight of the decision still pressing on you, but somehow, it feels a little lighter now. You sit on your bed, staring at the wall, thinking about the offer, about your career, but mostly about him—about how much you miss him, miss his voice, his presence in your life.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
In the end, you decided to take the leap. You paused your medical studies, packed your bags, and flew out to the film's shooting location. It was a whirlwind experience—long hours on set, learning the ins and outs of the industry, working alongside seasoned actors who had been doing this for years. It was challenging, but also incredibly rewarding. You discovered a new side of yourself, a side that loved the thrill of performing, the camaraderie of the cast and crew, the magic of bringing a story to life on screen.
When the movie was released, it became an unexpected hit. Critics praised your performance, calling you a "rising star" and predicting a bright future for you in the industry. Offers for other roles began to pour in, and before you knew it, you were being whisked off to auditions, meetings with agents, and photo shoots for magazines. Your life had completely changed, and you were caught up in the whirlwind of it all.
As your acting career took off, your medical aspirations took a backseat. You told yourself it was just temporary, that you would return to your studies once things settled down. But the more time you spent in the acting world, the more you realized how much you loved it. Acting allowed you to explore different aspects of your personality, to tell stories that resonated with people, to connect with audiences in a way that was deeply fulfilling.
But with success came new challenges. The pressure to maintain your newfound fame, the scrutiny from the media, the constant demands on your time—it was all overwhelming. There were moments when you questioned whether you had made the right choice, moments when you longed for the stability and sense of purpose that medicine had provided. But then you would step onto a set, feel the rush of excitement as the cameras rolled, and you would remember why you had chosen this path.
You also had to navigate the complexities of your relationships. Some of your friends and family were supportive, thrilled to see you succeeding in a new field. But others were skeptical, worried that you were throwing away years of hard work for a career that was far less stable and predictable. You had long conversations with your parents, trying to reassure them that you hadn't abandoned your dreams of becoming a doctor, that you were just exploring a different side of yourself for now.
And then there was Lewis. His racing career turned out to be everything you imagined it would be. He’s a four-time Formula 1 World Champion, and despite all the fame and glory, he always made time for you. He had always been your biggest supporter, no matter what you decided to do. But even he had his doubts. "Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked one day, as you sat together in your apartment, reviewing the script for your next film.
"I think so," you replied, uncertainty creeping into your voice. "I never expected this to happen, but now that it has, I can't imagine walking away."
He studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "I just want you to be happy, Y/N. Whatever that looks like."
His words stuck with you, a reminder of the person you had always been, the person you were still trying to figure out. You loved acting, but there was a part of you that missed the structure, the challenge, and the sense of purpose that medicine had provided.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
As your acting career continued to flourish, you made a promise to yourself: you wouldn't close the door on medicine entirely. The years of hard work and late nights studying had shaped you, and you were determined to find a way to honor that journey, even as new opportunities emerged in the entertainment world. It was during one of those opportunities that you first met Jensen. The encounter happened at a charity gala, an event you never imagined attending before your acting career took off.
You stood quietly in a corner, nursing a glass of champagne, your eyes scanning the room filled with celebrities and high-profile individuals. You had been invited because of your rising status in the industry, a status that still felt surreal at times. The room buzzed with energy, laughter, and the clinking of glasses, but it was Jensen’s presence that captivated you. He had an effortless charisma, a magnetism that drew you in from across the room.
Jensen, with his boyish charm and magnetic charisma, made his way through the crowd effortlessly. When his eyes locked onto yours, it was as if the world had stopped. He approached you with a confidence that was both alluring and intimidating.
"Hello beautiful, I'm Jensen," he said, his smile dazzling.
"Hi, I'm Y/N," you replied, trying to match his confidence but feeling your heart race.
From that moment on, your life transformed into a whirlwind romance. Jensen's world was intoxicating—red carpet events, glamorous parties, and moments that seemed too perfect to be real. He was attentive, always making you feel like the center of his universe. The late-night phone calls, surprise visits, and stolen moments of affection made you believe that you had found your fairy tale.
Your relationship with Jensen was the epitome of Hollywood glamour. Photographers captured your every move, and tabloids buzzed with stories of your romance. At first, the attention was thrilling. You felt special, adored, and on top of the world.
But as the months passed, the cracks began to show. Jensen's demanding schedule meant that he was often away on set, leaving you feeling lonely and neglected. The glamour started to fade, replaced by the harsh realities of a high-profile relationship.
Jensen's charm, which once made you feel special, started to feel suffocating. His possessiveness grew, and he began to dictate your choices. What you wore, where you went, who you spoke to—all became subjects of his control. At first, you brushed it off as his way of caring, but soon it became clear that his love was conditional.
The late-night arguments became frequent. Jensen's temper, once hidden behind his charming facade, surfaced. He would lash out, accusing you of not understanding his pressures and responsibilities. You tried to be supportive, to be the perfect partner, but nothing seemed to be enough.
You began to feel like a prisoner in your own life, trapped by the expectations and scrutiny of the public eye. The relationship that once made you feel alive now drained you of your happiness.
The turning point came one night when you discovered Jensen's infidelity. You found messages on his phone from a woman named Claire. The words were explicit, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Your heart shattered as you realized that the man you thought you knew had betrayed you.
Confronting Jensen was one of the hardest things you had ever done. He denied it at first, then tried to downplay it. But the evidence was irrefutable. The betrayal cut deep, leaving scars that would take years to heal.
Despite the heartbreak, you tried to salvage the relationship. You didn't want to believe that the fairy tale was over. You attended couples therapy, made compromises, and tried to forgive. But the trust was gone, and without it, the relationship was a shadow of what it once was.
The final straw came when another woman, Lisa, contacted you. She had photos and videos of Jensen with her, and she was threatening to expose them to the media unless you paid her a significant amount of money. You were truly at your breaking point.
The humiliation, the betrayal, and the constant pressure became too much to bear. You decided to expose Jensen and the women who had been involved with him. You gathered all the evidence, and with a heavy heart, you released it to the public.
The reaction was immediate and explosive. Social media was ablaze with shock and outrage. Jensen's image, once so pristine, was shattered. The world saw him for who he truly was—a man who had deceived and manipulated those closest to him.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
Your phone buzzes incessantly on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with each incoming call, text, and notification. It’s been going on for hours now, ever since the news broke. The media is in a frenzy, and your family and friends are no different. Everyone wants to know if it’s true, if the rumors about Jensen’s infidelity are real. But you can’t bring yourself to face it. You’ve been lying in bed, numb and drained, staring at the ceiling as if you could will the world away.
Each buzz feels like a jolt, a painful reminder of the life you thought you had, the relationship you thought was solid. Jensen had been controlling, isolating you from everyone you cared about, but you never imagined it would come to this. The betrayal cuts deeper than you ever thought possible, and the pain is almost numbing in its intensity.
You roll over, burying your face in the pillow, trying to block out the noise, the world, everything. But then, amidst the endless stream of messages and calls, a name flashes across your screen that makes you freeze. Lewis.
You haven’t spoken to him in what feels like forever. Jensen had made sure of that, keeping you away from your friends, especially Lewis. But seeing his name now stirs something inside you, a mix of longing, relief, and an overwhelming sense of loss. You reach for the phone with trembling hands and answer, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. The words are stuck in your throat, your heart pounding painfully in your chest.
“Y/N/N?” Lewis’s voice is soft, laced with concern, and just hearing it makes the tears you’ve been holding back start to fall. “Y/N/N, are you there?”
“Hi, Lewis,” you manage to choke out, your voice cracking as you try to keep the sobs at bay.
“Y/N/N…” He says your name again, but this time, it’s different. It’s like he’s trying to reach out and hold you, even though you’re miles apart. “Where are you? I’ll fly to you right now. Just tell me where you are, sweetheart.”
You close your eyes, the endearment hitting you like a wave. It’s been so long since someone called you that with genuine care. “I just… I just want to be alone,” you whisper, barely audible.
“Y/N/N, no,” he says, his voice more urgent now. “You’ve been through so much, and I’ve been worried about you for the longest time. Please, don’t shut me out.”
“Lewis, please…” You’re crying again, harder this time, the words coming out between broken sobs. “I’m… I’ll be okay. I just… I need time. I need to be alone. And I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry for not staying in contact with you. I should have…”
“Shhh, shhh, no, no, Y/N/N,” Lewis interrupts, his voice firm but gentle. “It’s not your fault, okay? It’s not.”
“But it is,” you protest weakly, your guilt and shame threatening to swallow you whole. “It is, Lewis. I pushed you away. I let him push you away.”
“Y/N/N, listen to me,” he says, his tone softer now, soothing. “It’s not your fault. You don’t have to carry that. I’m just so sorry you’ve had to go through this.”
You’re silent, your chest heaving with the effort of trying to breathe through the pain. You want to believe him, to let go of the guilt, but it’s so hard. Everything feels so heavy, so overwhelming.
“Y/N/N?” Lewis’s voice breaks through your thoughts, anchoring you. “Talk to me. Please.”
You swallow hard, trying to find the words, but all you can manage is a whisper. “I have to go.”
“No, Y/N/N, don’t…” He sounds desperate now, almost pleading. “Please don’t hang up.”
“Lewis, it’s okay,” you say, though your voice is shaking. “I just… I need to turn my phone off and go away for a while. I just wanted to hear your voice before I go.”
“Go?” Lewis’s voice is strained with worry. “Y/N/N, you’re scaring me. Please, don’t do anything—”
“I’m not going to harm myself, Lewis,” you quickly reassure him, though you can hear the fear in his voice. “I just need to be away from everything—the phone, social media, the public. All of it. I need space. I need silence. I need some peace.”
There’s a long pause on the other end, and you can almost feel his struggle, his desire to reach through the phone and hold you, to keep you from slipping away. “Okay, Y/N/N,” he finally says, his voice soft, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. “I just want you to know that I care about you so much. I’m here for you, no matter what. Always.”
Your throat tightens again, and you fight to keep your voice steady. “I know, Lew. I know.”
The silence that follows is both comforting and painful, a shared moment of understanding and loss. You can almost see him, the way he would look at you with those concerned eyes, the way he would hold you until the pain wasn’t so suffocating.
“Goodbye, Lewis,” you whisper, your voice breaking.
“I’ll talk to you later, Y/N/N,” he replies, a quiet determination in his tone that you know so well.
The call ends, and you’re left staring at the screen, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. The hurt is still there, raw and painful, but there’s a small sliver of warmth now, too. Hearing his voice again, knowing he’s still there for you, gives you a fragile sense of comfort.
You turn off your phone, letting the silence envelop you. The world outside fades away, and for a moment, it’s just you in the quiet, trying to piece together the shattered fragments of your heart.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
For the past year and a half, you distanced yourself from everyone, including Lewis. You buried yourself in work, traveled alone, and avoided any situation that might bring back memories of what you lost. Your heart ached, but you told yourself it was better this way. Safer.
You threw yourself into your career, taking on projects that challenged and inspired you. You even went back to school. You traveled to places you had always dreamed of visiting, finding solace in the beauty of the world. You spent time in nature, hiking, meditating, and rediscovering yourself.
The media had a field day with your disappearance. Speculations ran wild, but you remained silent, focusing on your healing. You took up new hobbies, learned new skills, and invested in yourself. Slowly, you began to rebuild your confidence and sense of self-worth.
You emerged from the shadows stronger, wiser, and more determined than ever. Your hard work paid off, and you made a name for yourself. Your projects received critical acclaim, and your name was on everyone's lips for all the right reasons.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
Tonight was your first public appearance since exposing Jensen. The Met Gala was the event of the year, and you had been meticulously preparing for it. Your stylist had outdone herself, and when you looked in the mirror, you saw a vision of elegance and strength.
As you stepped onto the red carpet, the flashes of cameras and the shouts of fans filled the air. You walked with confidence, your head held high, and a smile that spoke of triumph and resilience.
"Y/N, you look stunning!" the photographers called out.
"Over here, Y/N! Give us a smile!"
You obliged, posing for the cameras and greeting the fans. It felt good to be back, to be seen and appreciated for who you had become.
The crowded after-party buzzed with energy, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. People mingled, dressed to the nines, chatting and dancing in the dimly lit room. The atmosphere was electric, but you found yourself standing still, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. You hadn't seen Lewis in years, and the sight of him now, just a few feet away, sent a shiver down your spine.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
Lewis Hamilton, your former best friend. Lewis had been your rock, your confidant, and your best friend. He had been there through thick and thin, always ready with a comforting word or a warm embrace. It had been years since you last spoke to him, even longer since you last saw him, and the sight of him brought back a flood of memories. You hesitated, unsure of what to do.
Lewis spotted you and made his way over. His presence was as comforting as ever, and when he reached you, he placed his hand on your arm and leaned in close.
"Hi, Y/N," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your nerves.
"Hi, Lewis," you replied, trying to steady your racing heart.
His eyes held a mix of emotions—concern, relief, and something deeper. His presence was both comforting and disconcerting. The familiar warmth of his hand on your arm, the concern in his eyes, and the gentle tone of his voice—all of it felt like home. And yet, there was something else, something new, stirring within you. It was an unfamiliar sensation, one that made your chest feel light and your heart beat loudly in your ears.
You stood there, staring into his eyes, and your mind began to drift back to the countless moments you had shared with Lewis. The late-night conversations, the laughter, the shared dreams and hopes. He had always been your anchor, grounding you when the world felt too overwhelming. You remembered the way he would listen to you, truly listen, making you feel heard and understood. No one else had ever made you feel that way.
Lewis had been there during some of the darkest times in your life. When you first broke into the entertainment industry and faced the pressures of fame, he was the one who kept you grounded. He had a way of making you see the bigger picture, of reminding you of your worth and potential. His encouragement had been a constant source of strength for you.
As your mind wandered, you recalled the moments of pure joy you had shared with him. The spontaneous road trips, the late-night drives, the silly arguments that always ended in laughter. Lewis had a way of making even the mundane feel magical. He brought a sense of adventure and excitement into your life, and you cherished every moment you spent with him.
And then there were the quieter moments, the times when words weren't needed. Sitting in comfortable silence, watching the sunset, or simply being in each other's presence. Those moments had a depth and intimacy that you hadn't experienced with anyone else. It was in those moments that you felt truly seen and understood.
But as your relationship with Jensen took over, you had drifted away from Lewis. The demands of your high-profile romance consumed you, and you found yourself distancing from the people who mattered most. Lewis had tried to be there for you, but you were too caught up in the whirlwind to notice. You regretted that now, more than anything.
Standing here, face to face with Lewis, you felt a pang of guilt. You had shut him out, pushed him away when you needed him the most. And yet, here he was, looking at you with the same warmth and concern as always. It was a testament to the kind of person he was, loyal and kind.
But there was something else in his eyes tonight, something that made your heart race. It was a look you hadn't seen before, a depth of emotion that went beyond friendship. It made you feel vulnerable, exposed, and yet strangely exhilarated. You weren't sure what it was, but it made your chest feel light and your heart beat loudly in your ears.
You tried to make sense of this new feeling. It was a mix of longing, anticipation, and a hint of fear. Longing for the connection you once had, anticipation for what could be, and fear of the unknown. You had spent so long guarding your heart, protecting yourself from more pain, that this new sensation was both thrilling and terrifying.
As you stood there, lost in your thoughts, Lewis gently guided you to a quieter corner of the room. The noise and chaos of the party faded into the background as you focused on him, on the way his presence made you feel safe and cherished.
"How have you been?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the words to convey everything you had been through. "It's been... challenging," you admitted. "But I'm doing better now. I've been healing, focusing on myself."
He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad to hear that. I've missed you, Y/N/N."
Those words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had missed him too, more than you could ever express. The realization made your heart ache with a mix of regret and hope.
"I've missed you too, Lewis," you said softly, your voice tinged with emotion.
There was a moment of silence as you both took in each other's presence. It was as if time had stopped, and all that mattered was this moment, this connection between you. You felt a spark, a flicker of something more, and it both excited and scared you.
Lewis reached out and gently took your hand in his. The simple gesture sent a jolt of electricity through you. His touch was familiar, comforting, and yet it ignited a new flame within you. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a sense of belonging that you hadn't felt in a long time.
"I know things have been tough," he said, his voice low and earnest. "But you're stronger than you think, Y/N/N. You've always been strong."
Tears welled up in your eyes as his words touched a deep part of you. You had been trying to be strong for so long, to prove to yourself and the world that you could rise above the pain. Hearing Lewis acknowledge that strength made you feel seen and validated.
"Thank you, Lewis," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I don't know what I would have done without your support."
He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes filled with a mix of pride and affection. "You've always had it in you, Y/N. You just needed to believe in yourself."
His words resonated with you, echoing the journey you had been on over the past year and a half. You had fought hard to rebuild your life, to find yourself again. And now, standing here with Lewis, you felt a renewed sense of hope.
As the night went on, you found yourself drawn to Lewis in a way you hadn't expected. There was a new layer to your connection, something deeper and more profound. It was as if the time apart had only strengthened the bond between you, and now it was evolving into something more.
You couldn't deny the way your heart raced when he looked at you, the way his touch sent shivers down your spine. It was a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time, and it scared you. But it also filled you with a sense of excitement and possibility.
You spent the rest of the evening talking, reminiscing about old times and catching up on each other's lives. The conversation flowed effortlessly, just like it always had. And yet, there was an undercurrent of something new, something that made your heart flutter.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
As the night drew to a close, you found yourself standing outside the venue, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the warmth of the party. Lewis stood beside you, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of everything you were feeling. The two of you had talked throughout the evening, catching up in a way that felt familiar yet distant. There had been laughter, shared memories, and a surface-level exchange about how your lives were going. But there was something deeper weighing on your heart, something you couldn’t ignore any longer.
“Lewis,” you began, your voice soft and hesitant, “I’m sorry.”
He turned to you, his expression shifting from the relaxed smile he’d worn all evening to something more serious, more concerned. “What for?”
You swallowed hard, gathering your thoughts, knowing this was going to be difficult but feeling an overwhelming need to say it. “I know tonight we talked a little bit about our lives and how we’re doing, but I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. For not staying in contact with you throughout college as much as I should have.”
Lewis frowned, his eyes searching your face as if trying to understand where this was coming from. “Y/N, that wasn’t—”
“No, please, let me finish,” you interrupted, your voice shaking slightly as you pushed forward. “And then, when my career took off… You were there for me, supporting me, and I was with Jensen, and I cut you off.”
“Y/N, that wasn’t your fault,” he said quickly, his tone gentle but firm.
“I know,” you nodded, tears welling in your eyes. “But after everything that happened, I didn’t speak to you at all. It’s been three years, Lewis. Three years since it all fell apart, and tonight was the first time I’ve talked to you in years. And we didn’t even really talk. We just… surface talked. And you deserve more than that. So… I’m sorry.”
Lewis looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions—shock, hurt, confusion. Your words had opened up old wounds, bringing to the surface feelings he’d buried deep down. He was struggling to process it all, his heart racing as he tried to find something to say, to make sense of the flood of emotions you’d just unleashed. But before he could respond, you suddenly seemed to panic.
Your breath hitched as you realized the weight of what you’d just said, the vulnerability you’d exposed. “I—I shouldn’t have brought this up. Not here. Not now,” you stammered, your voice trembling. Without waiting for him to say anything, you turned and walked away, your steps quickening as you headed for your car. “I’m sorry,” you whispered again, but it was barely audible.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
Lewis stood there, frozen, watching as you slipped away into the night. His heart ached, the apology you’d left him with echoing in his mind. “She’s sorry?” he murmured to himself, the words feeling hollow and incomplete. There was so much more to say, so much more he wanted to understand, but you were gone before he could even begin to process it.
As you sat in your car, your hands gripping your purse, you felt a wave of regret wash over you. “What did I just do?” you whispered, your voice laced with self-recrimination. “That wasn’t the time or place… I’m such an idiot.” You stared blankly ahead, the headlights of passing cars blurring as your mind replayed the scene over and over. You couldn’t believe you’d brought up something so deep, so personal, in such a casual setting. And then, you didn’t even give him a chance to respond. You just walked away. Again.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
Meanwhile, Lewis remained rooted to the spot, his thoughts a chaotic swirl of confusion and hurt. Your words had ripped open old scars, bringing back all the pain of losing you, the ache of your absence in his life. And now, you’d said you were sorry, but what did that mean? Was that it? Was that all you had to say after years of silence?
“She’s sorry…” Lewis repeated, his voice barely a whisper. It wasn’t enough. It didn’t explain why you’d cut him off, why you’d let so much time pass without a word, and why you’d left him standing there without so much as an explanation.
As the chauffeur approached him, telling him his car was ready, Lewis felt a sudden rush of determination. He couldn’t let it end like this. Not again. He couldn’t let you walk away without at least trying to understand, without at least saying something—anything—that might bridge the gap that had grown between you over the years.
“Follow that black SUV that just pulled off,” Lewis instructed the driver as he climbed into the car.
“Okay, sir,” the driver responded, nodding as he pulled away from the curb, keeping the distance between the cars minimal.
Lewis leaned back in his seat, his mind racing. He didn’t know what he was going to say when he caught up with you, but he knew he had to try. He couldn’t let you disappear from his life again, not after everything you’d just unearthed, not after the years of silence and buried feelings that were now clawing their way to the surface.
He watched the road ahead, his heart pounding, as the chauffeur followed closely behind your car. He didn’t care how long it took, or what he had to do—he wasn’t going to let you slip away again. Not this time.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
You had just returned to your penthouse after the Met Gala after-party, exhausted yet exhilarated by the night's events. The gown you had worn now lay draped over a chair, and you had just managed to slip into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a loose-fitting t-shirt. The clock on your bedside table blinked 3:40 AM. You were about to crawl into bed when a knock on the door startled you.
"Who the fuck?" you muttered to yourself, rubbing your eyes as you made your way to the door.
Opening it, you were met with the sight of Lewis, looking disheveled and intense. You blinked, trying to process the unexpected visitor.
"Lewis? What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice a mix of confusion and concern.
He didn't say a word, just walked past you into the penthouse and sat down heavily on your couch. You stood there for a moment, stunned. This was not like Lewis. Closing the door behind you, you walked over to him, trying to understand what was happening.
"Uh, okay. What's going on?" you asked, your voice tentative.
Before you could say anything else, Lewis turned to you, his eyes blazing with a mix of hurt and frustration.
"You're sorry... Sorry, Y/N? After all these years of not speaking to each other and being best friends, that's all you have to say to me? Sorry? I deserve more than that. No, fuck that, I need more from you," he said, his voice trembling with emotion.
Your confusion deepened, and you took a step back, trying to gather your thoughts. "Lewis, I—what do you want me to say? I mean, friends drift apart, a lot of shit happened" you began, but he cut you off.
"Friends?! Friends, Y/N? I've known you since we were kids. I know your favorite movie, your favorite color, your favorite flowers—yeah, flowers, because you have three. I know how you like your eggs cooked, I know you love ketchup but hate tomatoes on anything. I know you're allergic to mosquito bites, and you hate when people say something and then say 'never mind'. I know you, Y/N, everything about you. You're my person, my Y/N. We are not just friends, Y/N. At least not in my eyes."
You stood there, speechless, as his words washed over you. He continued, his voice growing more desperate. "So yes, I'm mad at your 'I'm sorry' after three years of not hearing from you, having to call your parents, friends, your siblings, hell, even your assistant to know how you are doing. So, sorry if I feel like the girl I've been in love with since forever deserves to give me more of a conversation."
His words hung in the air, heavy and charged with emotion. You stared at him, your mind racing to comprehend everything he had just said. There was a silence, thick and palpable, stretching between you both.
"You... love me?" you finally managed to whisper, your voice barely audible.
The room seemed to close in around you as you waited for his response, your heart pounding loudly in your ears.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
Lewis’s silence was deafening. He stared at you with a mixture of vulnerability and determination, his usual confidence stripped away by raw emotion. You could see the pain etched in his features, and it mirrored the tumultuous feelings inside you.
"Yes, Y/N," he said finally, his voice hoarse. "I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. And it’s not just some fleeting feeling or a phase. It’s been there, in the background, every day, every moment we’ve been apart. I’ve watched you build your life, your career, and I’ve cheered you on from a distance. But it was never enough for me to just be on the sidelines. I wanted more, I needed more, and I didn’t know how to make you see that."
You took a deep breath, your mind reeling from his confession. The realization that Lewis’s feelings for you were not just platonic but something deeper, something that had been lingering all these years, was overwhelming. It made you feel exposed and vulnerable in ways you hadn’t anticipated.
"I... I didn’t know," you said softly, your voice trembling. "I had no idea you felt this way."
Lewis’s eyes softened slightly, but the pain was still evident. "How could you? I kept it hidden, buried under layers of friendship and missed opportunities. I thought maybe if I stayed out of the way, you’d figure it out on your own. But the longer I stayed silent, the more I realized that I was just hurting myself. And when you disappeared, I thought I’d lost my chance forever."
Your mind flashed back to those moments when you were close, when you shared everything with him. You remembered how he always seemed to be just a step away from being more than a friend, but you had never let yourself acknowledge it. Your focus had been on your own life, your career, and Jensen. Now, standing in front of Lewis, you saw the depth of what you had missed.
"I was so caught up in everything that happened with Jensen," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. "I pushed everyone away, including you. And now... now I’m not sure what to do with all of this. I didn’t know how much I missed you until you were back here, but I’m still trying to understand what this means."
Lewis stood up and walked towards you, his gaze never leaving yours. "What it means, Y/N, is that I’m here, laying it all out for you. I’m not asking for anything other than the chance to be honest with you. I need you to know how I feel, and I need you to decide if there’s a place for me in your life—beyond just friends."
The emotion in his voice was almost palpable, and you could feel the weight of his words pressing down on you. Your heart ached with the complexity of the situation. You had been through so much, and now faced with this raw, unfiltered declaration of love, you felt torn.
As the silence stretched between you and Lewis, you felt a tumult of emotions roiling within you. The weight of his confession had struck a chord deep inside, stirring feelings that had long been buried. His words had opened a floodgate, and as you stood there, the realization that you had harbored a deep love for him all along became crystal clear.
"I love you," you said softly, the words escaping your lips almost as a whisper but carrying the weight of years of unspoken emotion.
Lewis’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth slightly open as he struggled to process what he had just heard. "W-What?" he stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper. The disbelief in his tone was palpable, and for a moment, he seemed frozen, as if he couldn’t quite grasp the reality of the situation.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart and the tears that threatened to spill over. You locked eyes with him, your gaze unwavering. "The recent years apart made me realize just how much I truly missed you. I was so naïve and stupid when we were younger. I didn’t see how you looked at me or how you treated me. You were always there for me, through the good and the bad days. Even when I wanted to rot away, you were there, holding me up."
Tears began to slip down your cheeks, and you reached up to wipe them away with trembling fingers. "Tonight, seeing you again after all these years, my whole mind and body were flooded with emotions. It made me realize what I knew deep down: that I love you. I’ve always loved you more than a friend. I’m so sorry for all the pain I’ve put you through. I know I can’t make it up to you, and you have every right not to forgive me. But I am so sorry, Lewis. I love you. I really do. I’m in love with you."
Your voice broke as you spoke, and the tears you had been trying to hold back began to fall freely. The intensity of your emotions was overwhelming, and you felt a mixture of relief and sorrow as you poured out your heart.
Lewis’s eyes were wide with disbelief, and his own tears began to form as he processed your confession. He stood up slowly, the gravity of the moment clearly affecting him. Without a word, he walked towards you, his steps filled with purpose and urgency.
When he reached you, he cupped your face gently in his hands, his touch both tender and fervent. He leaned in, closing the gap between you, and his lips met yours in a passionate, urgent kiss. The kiss was filled with all the longing, love, and frustration that had been building up over the years. It was a kiss that spoke of pain and hope, of dreams lost and found.
When he finally pulled away, his eyes were filled with a mix of wonder and joy. "You have no fucking idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words to me," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m not even sure if this is real or if my mind is just playing tricks on me."
You managed a soft, tearful laugh, the joy and relief mingling with the sadness of your confession. You reached up, gently cradling his face in your hands. His hands were still on your face, his touch grounding and reassuring. "It’s real, Lewis," you said with a trembling smile. "I love you, Lewis Hamilton. I always have."
Lewis’s expression softened, and he returned your smile with a mixture of adoration and relief. "And I love you, Y/N L/N. Always have, always will."
With that, the intensity of the moment took over, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing onto yours in a fervent, passionate kiss. The kiss was deep and urgent, fueled by the years of longing and unspoken feelings that had been bottled up. Your bodies pressed together, the heat of the moment making you both lose track of everything but the electric connection between you.
As the kiss continued, Lewis’s hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer to him. You could feel the strength of his arms around you, and the warmth of his body pressed against yours. The kiss was a dance of passion and tenderness, each of you exploring the newfound closeness with a mix of fervor and delicacy.
With a sudden surge of energy, Lewis lifted you off the ground, his arms strong and steady as he cradled you against him. A surprised yelp of joy escaped your lips, but it was quickly swallowed by another deep kiss. You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling the thrill of being held so securely.
Lewis pulled away briefly, his breath mingling with yours as he looked into your eyes with a mix of desire and determination. "Bedroom," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.
You nodded, guiding him towards the bedroom with a sense of excitement and anticipation. "It's this way," you whispered, your voice breathless. As he carried you through the penthouse, his lips never left your neck, trailing kisses that sent shivers down your spine.
When you reached the bedroom, Lewis gently laid you down on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. The room was dimly lit, casting soft shadows that danced along the walls. The atmosphere was charged with a mixture of passion and vulnerability, the culmination of years of unspoken emotions.
As you lay on the bed, Lewis’s hands roamed over your body with a mixture of reverence and eagerness. He kissed your neck, moving slowly down towards your collarbone, his lips brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your heart race. His touch was both soothing and electrifying, igniting every nerve in your body.
You reached up, your hands working on the buttons of his shirt with a sense of urgency. The fabric fell away, revealing his well-defined chest. You traced your fingers over his skin, savoring the warmth and strength beneath your fingertips. Lewis responded with a soft, appreciative murmur, his hands continuing their exploration of your body.
You continued to undress him, your movements growing more confident as you removed his pants and underwear. Each layer of clothing that fell away seemed to bring you both closer, the physical closeness mirroring the emotional connection that had finally been acknowledged.
His kisses were searing, each one more urgent than the last. His hands roaming your body with a hunger that left you breathless, igniting a fire wherever they touched. His mouth moved from your lips to your neck, kissing, nipping, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You arched into him, the need for more overwhelming.
Without breaking contact, he settled between your legs, his hands sliding under your shirt, lifting it over your head. As you unclasped your bra, Lewis’s eyes were filled with adoration and desire. "You’re beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. He leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it while his fingers teased the other. You moaned, your back arching off the bed, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.
Lewis trailed kisses down your body, his mouth hot against your skin, until he reached the waistband of your panties. He looked up at you, his eyes locking with yours as he slowly pulled them down, the anticipation building with every second. He spread your legs wider, his breath hot against your most sensitive area. When his tongue finally made contact, you cried out, your hands gripping the sheets. He licked and sucked, his tongue exploring every inch, driving you wild with need.
"Fuck, you taste so good," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "I can't get enough of you."
You gasped, the sensation of his mouth on you too much and not enough all at once. "Lewis, please," you begged, your voice trembling with need.
"Patience, love," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to savor every moment."
He looked up, his eyes dark with lust, before diving back in, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers. He slid one, then two fingers inside you, curling them just right, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. Your body responded immediately, the pressure building, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. When the first orgasm hit, it was like a wave crashing over you, your body tensing, then shuddering as the pleasure rolled through you.
But Lewis wasn't done. He continued working his fingers in and out of you, relentlessly, not giving you a moment to come down from your high. His tongue flicked over your clit as his fingers worked you, the sensation almost too much. You could feel another orgasm building, the intensity of it taking your breath away. When it hit, it was even more powerful than the first, your body convulsing with the force of it. You screamed his name, your vision going white with the sheer pleasure of it.
"You taste so sweet," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I could do this all night."
He pulled back slightly, his eyes locked on yours. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.
You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "More than okay," you managed to say, your voice hoarse with pleasure.
He smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. "Good. Because I'm not done with you yet."
He climbed back up your body, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. You could feel his erection pressing against you, the need in him just as fierce as your own. Without breaking the kiss, you flipped him onto his back, straddling him, your hands running over his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath your fingers.
"You’re so sexy," you murmured against his skin, your voice thick with desire. "I can't get enough of you."
You kissed him, your lips trailing down his neck, over his chest, worshipping his body. You moved lower, taking his thick cock into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip before taking it deeper, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn't reach. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, his control slipping.
"God, Y/N," he groaned, his voice rough with need. "Feels so fuckin’ good, sweetheart."
You continued sucking his cock, taking your time to pleasure him until he was teetering on the edge.
But he didn't let you finish. He pulled you up, his eyes burning with lust. "I want to come in you," he said, his voice rough. He flipped you over, positioning himself at your entrance. He pushed in slowly, the sensation of him filling you making you gasp.
He moved with a steady rhythm at first, his thrusts deep and powerful. The pleasure built quickly, the sensation of him inside you driving you wild. "Who's my good girl?" he whispered in your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "You like that, right?"
You could only moan in response, the pleasure too intense for words. He moved faster, his thrusts harder, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you. He leaned down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting gently. The combination of sensations was overwhelming, and you felt another orgasm building, the pressure intense. When it hit, it was like an explosion, your body shaking with the force of it.
But Lewis didn't stop. This time he put a pillow under your lower back, throwing your legs over his shoulders. His thrusts were relentless, powerful, driving you to the edge again and again. You could feel another orgasm building, the intensity of it almost too much to bear. When it finally hit, it was like a tidal wave, crashing over you, leaving you breathless, dizzy with pleasure.
Even though you had come, Lewis hadn't. He continued to move, his thrusts never losing their rhythm, overwhelming you with pleasure. You could feel another orgasm building, the sensation almost too much. When it hit, it was like a white-hot explosion, your body convulsing with the force of it.
"Lewis, I can't... it's too much," you gasped, your body trembling with the intensity of the pleasure.
"You can take it, baby," he whispered, his husky voice filled with love and lust. "You're a good girl, right baby. Take it for me.
Lewis finally let himself go, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. When he came, it was with a deep groan, his body tensing, then shuddering as he emptied himself inside you. He collapsed on top of you, his breath hot against your skin, his body trembling with the aftermath.
He rolled off you, pulling you close, his arms wrapping around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers tracing patterns on your back. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft, concern lacing his tone.
You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "That was... incredible," you managed to say, your voice hoarse.
Lewis smiled, his eyes softening. "You were incredible," he said, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. He kissed you gently, his lips soft against yours, a stark contrast to the rough passion from earlier.
He got up, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment before returning with a warm, damp cloth. He cleaned you up gently, his touch tender, his eyes never leaving yours. He tossed the cloth in the damper and climbed back into bed, pulling you into his arms.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again, his voice filled with genuine concern.
"I'm perfect," you said, snuggling closer to him, your body still humming with the afterglow of your multiple orgasms.
Lewis’s fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin, his touch soothing and tender. He looked at you with a smile, his eyes filled with a mixture of contentment and adoration. "I never imagined this would happen," he said softly, his voice filled with wonder. "But I’m so glad it did."
You smiled back at him, your heart full and your soul at peace. "Me too," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’ve never felt so complete."
He continued to hold you, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back. "You're everything to me," he said quietly. "I want you to know that."
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, the depth of his words touching you deeply. You had always known that there was something special between you, but hearing it aloud made it all the more real.
"You mean everything to me too, Lewis," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.
Lewis smiled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "Good," he said, his voice soft. "I want you to feel safe and loved, always."
You looked up at him, your heart swelling with emotion. "I do," you said, your voice thick with feeling. "I love you, Lewis."
He looked at you, his eyes shining with emotion. "I love you too," he said, his voice steady and sincere.
You lay there in each other's arms, the tension and passion of the night giving way to a comfortable silence, the only sound the soft beat of your hearts in sync. The world outside ceased to exist, and in that moment, there was only the two of you, wrapped up in each other's love and warmth.
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© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own
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sylusjinwoon · 2 months
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{ 205 }
midnights spent with you.
sylus x (non mc)fem.reader
you could feel the exhaustion seeping into your very bones the moment you came home late at night. running a hand across your hair, you take quick strides toward onychinus’s headquarters and saw some movement from your periphery. turning to the side, you saw a familiar, mechanical crow tailing your every movement and smile, knowing just who he belonged to.
as you hum one of your favorite songs, you take the elevators all the way to the top floor, already knowing that mephisto would return to his master at the penthouse, alerting him of your arrival home. with you settled in front of your door, you unlock it and announce your arrival, only to be met with silence.
“i’m home.” you speak out once more, this time a bit louder, yet the results were the same-
an almost unnatural quiet.
anxiety was felt coursing through your veins as you dropped your bag and made a beeline toward the stairs, taking them two steps at a time as you hurriedly reached the master bedroom. seeing the heavy oak doors within your sights, you grasp at the handles and push them wide open.
as you step inside your shared bedroom, you visibly relax upon seeing sylus sleeping (which was already a rare sight in and of itself.) trailing your gaze across the room, you saw mephisto was already perched on top of his usual spot, sifting through his feathers with his beak as soft cawing noises were heard from him. giving the crow a wistful smile, you return your attention back to the sleeping man settled in bed.
with his silver hair splayed on top of the plush pillows, you saw the way his eyelids trembled, alerting you of his sleeping state and how he was currently caught up in a dream. your hands ached with the need to thread your fingertips into his hair, brushing back those soft strands while littering his face with butterfly kisses (kisses that were no heavier than dew.)
a smile paints your eager expression when you slowly took off your work clothes, tossing the clothes inside of the hamper before donning one of sylus’s shirts over your form, heading towards the bed with the intention of spoiling him with your affections.
your movements remain careful, with the luxurious bed dipping ever so slightly with your added weight settled on top of it. wishing to take advantage of his sleeping form, you gently lean closer to him, not stopping until the entirety of your weight was settled across his chest. letting out a soft coo of his name, you lean forward and began pressing gentle kisses all across his features.
from the sharp shape of his brow to his chiseled jawline, you bask in the warmth of his skin felt beneath your lips. you truly adored every inch of him, and felt saddened at the fact that you couldn’t show him just how much he meant to you every single second of the day. while continuing your kisses against his skin, you smile and finally aim for his lips, pressing what you assumed would be a simple and chaste kiss against them.
however, upon feeling the sensation of your kiss, sylus begins to stir in his sleep, as if becoming awakened by your kiss. he ends up responding beautifully to you, slotting his lips against yours, expertly deepening it when you let out a sudden moan in response. you feel the way his large hands delve into your hair, pulling you so close to him that your chest was felt pressing against his in response.
several seconds later, you let out a sigh when sylus pulls away from you, eyes shining with amusement when he sees the way your lips had become swollen after his kiss. he teases you, lifting up your chin so that he could get a better look at your lovesick expression.
“what’s this? i didn’t peg you as the type to attack me in my sleep, darling.” you giggle and shake your head, leaning down to press a series of lingering kisses against his jawline.
“forgive me… i just couldn’t help but bask in your beauty and spoil you with kisses while you slept…”
you listen to his rich chuckles, allowing his powerful arms to wrap around your back as he brings you back to his chest. feeling his lips trailing across the expanse of your neck makes you shiver in response, giggling in delight the more he spoiled you with such affectionate caresses.
after spending quite some time basking in each other’s arms, sylus lays in bed and takes your body with him, becoming the big spoon as he held you tightly within his embrace. you smile in response and push your back further against his chest, earning a grumpy grunt from him.
“careful, sweetie, you may end up playing with fire if you come any closer to me.”
“hehe… well… let’s just say i don’t mind getting burned.”
sylus lets out a scoff before leaning closer to you, whispering “brat,” against your ear before biting down against the shell of it, earning a series of giggles from you. after being subjected to sylus’s lovebites against your skin, the exhaustion finally hits as you let out a yawn, making sylus run the back of his hand across your cheek.
“is my princess finally getting sleepy?”
you could only manage a nod in response, your body going slack while taking a hold of sylus’s arms, wrapping them around your front as your eyelids grew heavier.
sylus presses a kiss against your hair while letting out a gentle command, “sleep now, and i’ll treat you to something nice in the morning. perhaps you’d like to pay that café a visit and indulge on some chocolate croissants?”
you let out a soft hum in agreement, already falling asleep as a smile was seen gracing your features. with amusement shining in his gaze, sylus takes a moment to admire your features now painted in a deep slumber, brushing back your hair while quietly cursing to himself.
“how dare you keep me wrapped around your fingers so easily?” sylus asks you in an incredulous manner, unable to believe that his love for you turned him almost too soft for his liking-
and although he would never admit this to you, sylus found himself not caring about how only you alone could bring out such a side of him.
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a.n. - i got so many amazing content from sylus today after unlocking his workouts on quality time, obtaining his nightplumes pull, and unlocking his midnight warmth audio all in the span of one night 😭 i am filled with such love and adoration for sylus that i had to write something soft and sweet for him 🥹
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
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theemporium · 1 year
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Max didn’t think it was possible to miss somebody this much, and yet, he had spent the best part of the last month feeling like somebody caved his chest in for every second he was apart from you.
He missed you. He missed you so fucking much. He missed you so much that the second the grand prix had ended, he rushed through the podium ceremony and media duties so he could speed to the airport and get on the private jet straight back to Monaco. 
However, flying back from the States was no easy feat and it meant that it was firmly into the early hours of the morning by the time he landed.
The apartment was dead quiet when he arrived, the lights turned off and the only sound being the distant nightlife of Monte-Carlo many floors beneath the apartment. He left his bags by the floor to deal with in the morning, his shoes and jacket following the same fate as he made his way towards your shared bedroom, briefly pausing to greet Sassy and Jimmy. 
It shouldn’t have been a shock that you were asleep considering it was almost three in the morning, but it still made him deflate a little when he pushed the bedroom door open and found you fast asleep on the bed. 
But what made his chest tighten was the fact you looked as though you were trying to stay awake for him. You were engulfed by one of his hoodies that rested down your bare thighs, clinging onto his pillow with a book resting by your head—one he knew to be your current read. 
His lips twitched upwards with a soft smile as he moved closer to you, shedding off his shirt and jeans with the intention to just curl up beside you and fall asleep with you after a month of only seeing you through a screen. 
But by the time he settled in behind you, you were already gravitating towards him and pushing back against him. He gripped your hips, but you kept moving towards him until his hoodie had shifted, and the peak of white cotton panties were in his vision. 
“Shit,” he breathed out, his eyes focused on your ass as he felt his cock stir in his boxers before he lifted his gaze to your face. You were still fast asleep, body subconsciously seeking him even when you weren’t awake. 
It shouldn’t have turned him on so much. It shouldn’t have made blood rush to his cock at the fact the mere feel of his touch got you so needy. It shouldn’t have made every coherent thought in his head disappear that you submitted to him even in your sleep. 
And maybe if he was a better man, he would pull away. He would pull away and freshen up and then eventually join you in sleeping. 
But he wasn’t a better man, not one bit. 
Max gripped your hips, pulling you closer until your body was snug against his. He let out a low groan, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he slowly rolled his hips against your ass. 
His palm slipped beneath your hoodie, pressing down against your stomach as he continued to rut his hips against yours. He watched your face closely, waiting to see if you would react but you stayed fast asleep as he used you like you were his own personal toy. 
“Such a pretty girl,” he murmured, mostly to himself as he continued to grind against you. His lips traced whispered words and soft kisses along your neck, mixed between heavy pants as he slipped his hand to cup your clothed cunt and let out a groan when he felt how wet you were. 
“You like this,” he commented breathlessly, the wet fabric of your cotton panties feeling like a taunt as he felt your hips jerk a little on instinct. “Such a desperate thing, even in your sleep.”
You let out a wistful sigh, squirming against his hold as he kept you tight against him.
“Of course you fucking do,” he continued, feeling something deep in his stomach tighten when you let out a small whimper as he pressed the heel of his palm against your sensitive clit. “Because you love being good f’me, schat, don’t you?”
Another whine left your lips and he couldn’t hold back anymore. 
He pushed his boxers down his legs, kicking them off before his hands were on you again. His fingers hooked your wet panties to the side before he lifted your leg, gripping the fat of your thigh as he slowly slid inside you. 
You let out a low moan, still a little bleary and lost as you slowly blinked your eyes open. You felt hot. Much hotter than you did when you dozed off a few hours ago. And it took a few seconds before you felt the pressure inside you, so deep inside you and it was a feeling you could never get sick off.
“Fuck,” you breathed out, suddenly aware of the warmth settled behind you and the hands gripping your body before you felt his lips against your cheek. “Max.”
“Shhh, I know, baby, I know,” he panted softly, pinning your squirming hips in place as he slowly began to thrust in and out of you. “My pretty girl. My pretty, pretty girl. Doing so fucking well for me.” 
“Mmm,” you hummed, nuzzling your face against his pillow as his tempo sped up. “I—”
“I’ve got you,” he cooed, almost a little patronising as he pressed a chaste kiss on your temple. “Go back to bed, schat. Don’t worry that pretty, little head of yours.”
You whimpered but nodding, your eyes slowly fluttering shut again as he continued to fuck you from behind, as he continued to grope the cheeks of your ass and knead the fat on your thighs. He continued to fuck you as you slowly fell back asleep, trusting him enough to use you as he pleased because you were his good girl, his good little toy who wanted to please him whenever you could.
And when he reached his peak, he buried his face into the crook of your neck and let out a string of curses as he came. His chest heaved with soft pants as he tried to catch his breath, his arm winding around your middle as he pulled you close. And despite the voice in the back of his head that told him to get up, he finally had you in his hold after a whole month and he wasn’t going to let you go just yet. 
Max pulled the duvet over you both, cock still buried deep inside you as you snuggled back against him and let the Dutchman fall asleep only minutes after you, with his chest finally feeling weightless for the first time in a month.
.
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silkjade-archived · 9 months
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THE UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS OF A PORCELAIN HEART
alhaitham x reader ⤀ synopsis: even the most resilient of hearts must shed its armor, and despite your efforts to appear strong, alhaitham still senses your distress ⤀ cw: gn!reader, your heart is referred to as 'she', insecurity issues, fear of vulnerability, hurt/comfort — ꒰ 1.5k wc ꒱ ⤀ notes: this is a vent drabble, so reader is based on me. extremely self indulgent + selfship coded. ending edited 8.26.24, prev titled ‘still with hearts beating’
“tell me atlas. what is heavier: the world or its people’s hearts?” — darshana suresh
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Although he prefers to keep his nose buried in a book, Alhaitham is still as perceptive as ever, taking note of all the minuscule changes in your demeanor, even whilst you don a mask to stifle your woes.
He sees it first in the wistful sighs scattered amongst your too calm breaths, in your crafted smile, too practiced to be natural, and the strained words that fall too heavily out your lips, each in a race to prove that everything is normal and fine — that any anomalous behavior might only be the ramifications of an exhausting day.
Your name rolls so naturally off his tongue, as he reaches out to you, catching your wrist before you can disappear into the bedroom and sleep away your swallowed emotions.
“Are you alright?”
He asks out of courtesy, but to him, the signs are clear as day: the sharp inhale and slow exhale as you rally to fabricate another facade, chin tilted just a smidge too high as you turn to face him, dull eyes glistening with the remnants of unshed tears, forced to retreat by the winged flutter of your lashes.
To him, the signs are clear as day that you are not, that you are only putting on a brave face, something which he finds odd within the threshold of your shared home.
“Just tired is all,” you reply, speaking in half truths. After all, it's exhausting trying to keep up appearances when all you wish to do, is to curl into yourself and rot into your bed.
You flash him a quick smile, small and devoid of warmth; a lame imposter to the very one he’s grown so terribly fond of.
He repeats your name, this time softer, brows knitted with equal parts skepticism and concern at your empty words. Empty words filled with even emptier spirit, he notes.
Nonchalant, rehearsed, refined — and yet, he can hear the melancholia that spills into your tone. see the downward twitch of your lead-laden lips and the watery shift of your eyes as you avert your gaze in self-consciousness.
“You don’t have to hide from me,” he murmurs, and you want to believe him, want to believe that you’re brave enough to lay down your defenses, that you can trust him to hold your porcelain heart in his hands without threat of endangerment.
You open your mouth to speak, but not a sound comes out as the words turn to bile in your throat. To swallow the bitter liquid, or to spit your heart out and lay it bare for him to see. For Alhaitham, who is more than just an Akademiya giant, but a cornerstone of Sumeru itself: brilliant and brave, kind in spite of his unconventional displays. The sun who shines by the heat of his own radiance.
His moon, he calls you. And yet the moon does not glow; the moon whose only light is a reflection of the sun.
You purse your lips, internally willing yourself to believe that these tears will not spill. It'd be egregious — like coughing up blood when you too have a reputation to uphold, a certain presence to be perceived. For even the moon, who shines by grace of borrowed light, is steadfast in its quiet elegance.
“It’s fine,” you insist, “really.” It’s heavy under the weight of your pride, but at least your heart is safe here in your chest, isolated and tucked away.
You push until he relents, relaxing his grip around your wrist. Good, you think, he's given up. But then why does it so painfully squeeze your heart in a way you cannot convey — like a hair-lined fracture upon your brittle bones.
But Alhaitham is no fool; he intends to prove he’d catch you before you can shatter, freeing your wrist, only so that he might pull you into his arms instead. There is no shortage to the vast infinity of words he can say, but matters of the heart have never been his forte… and so he hopes that his actions might speak more profoundly than his words.
The sudden impact blows your eyes wide with surprise, tears already threatening to spill from the solace of just his embrace. There are no sounds other than his steady heart and even breaths, no scent besides the faded woody fragrance of his cologne. It's safe here, cocooned in his arms, and you think that for a moment, perhaps everything is and will be fine.
You relax against him, basking in his warmth, as you rest into the crook of his neck, absentmindedly staring at the patterns on the floor.
“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he whispers, “but please don’t hide from me.”
Your hands, pressed flush against his chest, curl into themselves, relieved that he cannot see the tears welling in your eyes. He does, however, feel that first crystalline droplet that slides freely down your cheeks, melting into the fabric of his clothes as more follow. Alhaitham runs his fingers through your hair, while his other hand hugs you by the small of your back, holding you ever closer. The occasional sob racks your body, silent and reluctant, but it’s a start.
A heart is a complex web of earnest emotions, floridly woven into secrets he cannot fault you for keeping locked away in a vault. Perhaps one day, you’d rely on him, let him in to share the burden. and if he should be so lucky, perhaps you'd deem him worthy to be your home, so that you might rest with him, without armor... but as for now, he’ll gladly cushion your fall, give you a soft place to land.
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In the night’s dark embrace, the moon’s milky light paints patterns through the stained glass window of your bedroom, and behind you, your lover’s arms stay wrapped around your waist, holding you close beneath the blankets.
“… Alhaitham?” your voice is delicate, spun from silk amidst the quiet of the night.
“Hmm?” he peaks an eye open at the unfamiliar use of his full name.
“If I ask you something, do you promise to answer honestly?”
“I don’t see any reason not to.” The low vibrations of his tone tickles your skin as he replies with a kiss to your shoulder.
“Am I…,” you hesitate, voice wavering as you contemplate whether words whispered into the wind might write itself into stone. “Am I… enough for you?”
The seconds seem to stand still, as if all the world and even the sky itself, were holding its breath in bated anticipation.
Finally, a creak cuts through the silence as the bed shifts alongside Alhaitham, who now hovers over you, his body and arms trapping you in between. The intensity of his gaze prompts you to look away, but he reaches for your chin, holding you gently so that you have nowhere to look, save for his technicolored eyes.
Enough for him? Is that what you were upset about? What a shame, he thinks.
“If you could only see what I see,” he murmurs, with a kiss to your forehead. His moon, his stars, his entire night sky, who guides him in the dark.
“You're intelligent and intuitive,” he murmurs, kissing along your jaw, and down your neck in between each word. “Beautiful and independent—sometimes too independent—but that just means you're strong. Capable of anything…”
Alhaitham glances up, only satisfied once the insecurity is dispelled from your features, and replaced by an absolute reassurance.
“…which I knew from the moment you made me fall completely in love with you."
He peppers your face with little kisses, and you can’t help but let out a soft laugh, almost embarrassed. “Haitham…”
Alhaitham pauses at your first genuine smile of the night. “I mean every word — I love you because you're you. I know you like to pretend otherwise, but you have a gentle heart, and I only hope you'll deem me worthy of it one day.”
Guilt flashes in your eyes as you open your mouth to speak, but anything you had intended to say, is drowned in the depth of his kiss. A part of you wishes to stay like this forever so that you might melt into his embrace — he who loves you so dearly, he who hopes his true feelings are adequately translated into this kiss...
...but your heart sighs in understanding, finally calm as she's held afloat by the strength of his affection. It's familiar, it's safe, it's home.
And if not for the lack of air, Alhaitham knows he'd kiss you forever, irrational as it may be. Pulling away, he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead — another promise of his affirmation. “You don't have to say anything, I'm happy to wait. Just know you’re more than enough, just as you are. And no one should be able to take that away from you, so…”
He rolls back into bed, pulling you with him as he goes, so that you might drift to sleep with your head resting atop his chest, listening to the steady tune of his heart, as it sings to you in your dreams.
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notes2: this was actually vrie therapeutic but i did not intend for it to get this long, and so i m a bit embarrassed (don’t perceive) however if u have made it this far, as always, thank u for reading ♡
© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform
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minami-ff · 10 months
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I Want My Kids to Have Your Eyes
Levi x Reader (fluff, sfw)
what a bold thing to say to your captain.
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Moonlight hung over the hill like a comforting blanket as you both reclined an arm’s length apart on the soft grass beneath, bodies sinking into the earth. The day had been relentless, a gruelling mission that tested every ounce of strength. Now, in the quiet aftermath, you two found solace gazing upward at the summit’s view, shimmering like scattered diamonds against the canvas of the night sky.
The shared stillness remained comfortable, before you posed a soft interruption to the quietude, "Captain, do you ever think about your future?"
Levi's eyes briefly left the constellations above, attention shifting to you. "Yes, it usually ranges from the next second to the next few months. Which area of land outside the walls to explore, how defensive operations should alter for the next month, which day certain intelligen-”
“Captain-” You interrupted, then hesitated, the vulnerability of the topic making your heart race. "I meant a peaceful future, like having a family, kids?"
Levi's brow furrowed slightly. The thought of it was unfamiliar, impossible. "In this war? That’s far-fetched," he remarked, gaze returning to the stars.
A subtle smile grew on your lips as scenarios played at the back of your mind. "I know, of course, but don’t you ever imagine it? A life after the war, a future where Titans are just stories we tell our children." Levi's expression softened, a fleeting hint of wistfulness in his eyes.
"Like sometimes I think if I had children, I’d take them to play by the oceans, make adorable lunch sets," you continued, "how beautiful they would look if they had your eyes…" Embarrassment started flushing up as you realised you rambled on way too far.
His eyes widened imperceptibly, caught completely off guard by your comment.
"WAIT, that didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean having them with YOU, of course... definitely not…" You trailed off, a splash of pink painfully obvious on your cheeks. Get yourself together y/n, what on earth are you saying to your captain?
“Ouch.” A flicker of disappointment crossed his features. Levi cleared his throat, seemingly caught in the unexpected turn of the conversation. "Well aren’t you very in objection to that idea." he snickered, hiding a trace of sorrow beneath his face.
“Nevermind, I’m sorry, please forget what I said." You apologised in the tense atmosphere.
But Levi didn't dismiss it. Instead, his mind seemingly remained lost in contemplation. "How will your children have my eyes, if they don't have my genetics?" Determined to disprove your faulty reasoning.
You chuckled nervously, "I just mean I hope they’ll be a pretty colour, and delicate shape, like yours."
Levi displayed a rare vulnerability in his expression. He had never given thought to the aesthetic of his eyes; they were simply a part of him, a feature he never considered noteworthy. This was the first time he had received a compliment about them, and it left him momentarily speechless.
"At this rate, my most optimistic guesstimate is that I’ll be slaying titans till I’m 60." You broke the awkwardness joking, "in that case I might not be able to have kids, doubt any man would still take my crinkled self on a date anyway."
"Why not?" Levi replied seriously, his voice a soft echo in the tranquil night. "I won't be even a tiny bit surprised if you're still this beautiful at 85."
A blood-bathed blush adorned your complexion, stomach filling with butterflies and warmth, brain connections zapping around - wondering if he really thought that way, or,
“you’re just saying that.”
Levi sighed, “in all your years of knowing me, when have I ever felt obliged to tell a white lie, Comrade?”
"Right…” You muttered, with all sorts of thoughts doing laps beneath your skull, trying to continue the conversation as level-headed as possible. “Perhaps I'll meet my first love at 99,” a giggle escaping your breath as you joked.
Unexpectedly, Levi's response carried a weight that belied the casual banter. "Well. I think people can be in love without being in a formal relationship. You could easily have your first love now."
Your gaze laid upon his side profile, slightly puzzled by his logic, "but how can you be in love with someone without holding hands, saying mushy things, and all that?"
His head turned towards you, a moment of silence filling the air with eyes drilling into yours, revealing a sincerity that tugged at your heart. "I definitely can."
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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 6 months
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≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑪𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒚
╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni
tags : porn with little plot, pure filth actually (quite self-indulgent), slight food play?, food sharing, slight public teasing if you squint, essentially just xavier being a little shit (again), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral (f. receiving), vaginal sex (unprotected), creampie, cum eating, praise, use of pet name "angel", references to "childhood snacks" secret times, lmk if i missed any tags!! ((unedited))
wc : 4.5k
an : has NO ONE ELSE noticed how often strawberry is mentioned in xavier's cards?!!! and also, thank you for 500+ follows where did you all come from omg,,,
You were far better than any candy.
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It wasn't often that the two of you got to spend a day outside together.
With how your occupations treated the both of you, most of your days off were much-preferred to be spent indoors—cuddling, watching a movie, or whatnot... and Xavier, of course, was always very fond on catching up on his sleep. Not that you ever minded; in fact, you found those extra days of simple rest very welcome. In your little afternoon naps, Xavier's presence by your side was always comfortable under the warmth of the sunlight.
But...
Sometimes, days like this were just as welcome.
Despite the Linkon heat, you wore a big smile on your face as Xavier helped you off the viking ride, gently guiding you as you stepped out of the ceramic boat. You dusted off your dress, looking back at the boat with a wistful gaze.
"That was fun, wasn't it?" He echoed your thoughts, slowly lacing his fingers together with yours in the exact way that made your heart flutter.
You looked back at him with another smile, falling into step with him. In your mind you recalled the brush of the wind in your faces as the ride swung higher and higher, the thump in your heart recalling the thrill of it and turning your smile into a full-blown grin. "Yeah!" you nodded enthusiastically. "I'm glad we went with your suggestion. Starting off with the more relaxing rides and working our way to the fun ones... You get to feel the thrill all the more!"
You caught the way his gaze softened, and he gently squeezed your wrist. "The face you make when you're excited is really pretty."
His comment came casually, and he nodded lightly to himself, almost as if confirming his statement as a pink blush slowly made its way to the tips of your ears.
"When you're embarrassed, too," he added with a smile.
You would never tire of it—how he would always make you fluster with his words, so nonchalant, so unexpected. He had that sort of habit, especially with you—the gall he had to present himself so unassuming and casual, you could never understand it, but it did the job quite well and sent your heart for a ride of its own.
With a little huff, you looked away. "You, too, then!" you could tease back normally, but this time, your response held a little less bite to it, and Xavier laughed.
"If that's how you feel, then I won't complain."
The two of you paused in front of a souvenir shop, and immediately, you felt your eyes brighten. Your grip on his hand tightened. "Xavier—"
"You want to go, right?" He had that same, knowing, gentle smile on his face, and he inclined his head towards the entrance. "Sure, then."
"But... you have to come with me!" Again, you tugged at his arm.
But there was a glint in his eyes, almost as if he knew what you were planning.
Xavier shook his head. "How about this? You can surprise me with something from this shop... And then it'll be my turn to surprise you at the next one we come across." He made a quick glance at the map in his other hand. "I think it sounds fair. Don't you?"
You could pout at his words, but there was truth in what he spoke—even as you looked at him inquisitively, you could find nothing that showed he wouldn't keep this promise, and there was no reason to refuse.
Except...
Curiously, you peered at him.
"You should know exactly what's in store for you," you narrowed your eyes playfully. "Why are you indulging me today?"
Xavier shrugged, then, and even the smile on his lips couldn't prepare you for his next statement, so raw, and honest, and genuine that it made your heart turn—"I like seeing you happy."
There wasn't an ounce of mirth in his eyes when he spoke this, and perhaps, though he was normally straightforward with you and affectionate like this at the most random of times, it would never prevent the butterflies from racing in your stomach.
Blushing, you turned away, letting go of his hand and walking to the store.
"...Wait for me here, then!"
And perhaps, it could have been part of his plan to ease you out of bullying him the way you often did, for it surely worked:
You returned out of the store not with matching bunny headbands like you'd originally intended, but cat ones, instead.
Close enough, you thought.
With a small smile, you shielded your eyes from the sun and glanced around for Xavier, only to spot him lounging near an empty bench by the fountain. It was closer to the bushes and a lot cooler with the breeze, seeing as it was a spot much further away from the crowds of people. His legs were crossed as he flipped through the pages of one of his little pocket books, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, no doubt a sign that he, too, was feeling a little hot with the noontime sun at its peak.
As you approached with the headbands in your hand, your footsteps slowed when you noticed him reach upwards to brush the hair out of his face, his mouth opening slightly to guide the lollipop he had from one side of his cheek to the other.
Despite yourself, you gulped—
And curse how attractive of a boyfriend you truly had.
When he looked up at you, you'd barely registered for yourself that you had settled down to sit beside him, and his eyes drifted to the headbands in your hand.
"...Cat headbands?" He momentarily took the lollipop out of his mouth and raised his eyebrows at you, clearly amused. "I was expecting something else."
But you didn't reply.
Your eyes met, then, and a small, tiny tiny little smirk played on his face. It told you everything you needed to know.
Instead, you noted the slight stick of candy on the corner of his mouth, and when he put the treat back in, you barely noticed the way he took the headband from you and promptly put it over his head. Your eyes instead were focused on the way he languidly swirled his tongue over the candy.
He let out a hum of consideration as he looked at himself through the locked screen of his phone, but when the lollipop shifted around in his mouth again, his eyes turned back to you—
You had been caught.
Instinctively, you pulled your hand away from him, but he was quick as he held it in place, slowly sliding the lollipop back out of his mouth and twirling the stick between his thumb and his forefinger thoughtfully.
"This? Oh... Someone came by with all sorts of candies to sell. The children were crowding him, but I managed to get one." His gaze switched from the lollipop and then back to your face, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Sorry, angel... Did you want one, too?"
"You, um.... You didn't tell me you were gonna get one..." Your voice was thick when you spoke, and you fumbled slightly with your words.
He smiled.
Something in you told you it would be dangerous if you dared to answer, but you found that you couldn't look away from him. "...Mhm," you nodded your head, honestly speaking, even as your breath caught in your throat when he reached over to stroke the side of your face.
"We can look for a candy store next," he murmured.
You watched his eyes drop to your mouth, and he slid the thumb of his hand slowly down to your lip, his smile almost widening at the way your jaw dropped opening ever so slightly.
"Guess you don't want to wait."
Without waiting, his other hand, holding the lollipop, still wet and half-dissolved from how it had stayed in his mouth prior to your arrival, and slid it into yours. Your gazes locked as you instinctively curled your tongue around the candy, wandering over every inch of it, taking in its flavor before swallowing.
And he smiled.
"It's strawberry bubblegum," he nodded at you, again speaking somewhat matter-of-factly, but that same sly, sly smile was still plastered on his face.
Then he pushed.
A slow, filling push, as he slid the pop further into your mouth.
You gasped at the feeling, unable to help the way you sucked on the candy, unable to stop yourself from maintaining eye contact and seeing every little way pure delight would make its way to his features.
Your tongue swirled over the lollipop, lips parting when he withdrew it, feeling the way your mouth would stick with sweetness before he was guiding it back into you, twirling the stick between his fingers and allowing you to taste it again, and again. And he remained silent as he did it; slowly, precisely guiding the treat in and out of your mouth, having you breathe carefully through your nose as you looked up at him with your eyes half-lidded.
The edges of your mouth were coated with saliva and melted sugar, sticky as you swallowed all of the flavor that you could, dissolving the candy with your tongue as much as you possibly could.
When the candy remaining on the stick was considerably small, he pulled the treat out of your mouth and back into his, biting it off with an almost cheeky grin.
"It's good, isn't it?" he hummed, making a show of licking his fingers clean in front of you, watching as your eyes shifted to once again follow the movements of his tongue, and smirking slightly as your breathing became short and quick.
"Something wrong, angel?" he tilted your head back up to meet his eyes, voice so soft that you could melt. He noted the way your skin was wet and sticky, shining with the residue of the candy, and he didn't wait for your answer.
Instead, he leaned over to lap at your chin, quick, small kitten licks up your jawline until he was kissing you, making you taste the thick, sweet flavor of the strawberry lollipop still llingering in your mouths.
When he pulled away, you were dazed, your heartbeat erratic, barely processing the way he handed you a wipe to actually properly clean your face, your lips turning down into a pout.
"...You're unfair, Xavier," you whined.
You pouted even as he placed your headband onto your head, clearly smiling with satisfaction at the way the both of you matched.
"Why's that, angel?" he hummed, feigning innocence like he often did.
And it pissed you off, it really did—he was infuriating when he wanted to be, even after all he'd done just now, the taste of the candy still lingering on the tip of your tongue.
"Oh, come on! How can you do all of that and act like nothing happened?" you huffed. "I want you..."
His eyes crinkled up in joy as he laughed, reaching over to pat your head. "But we're here for the rides, aren't we? You said you'd go on all of them."
When you crossed your arms and looked away, pressing your thighs together in a way that he definitely noticed, he only chuckled once more and gave you a small kiss on the top of your head.
"Later," he murmured, "I promise. But for now... We shouldn't waste our admission tickets."
You couldn't argue after that.
He had a point, after all—and luckily for you, in the end, it wasn't too hard for you to let your arousal slip off your mind for the rest of the day.
Instead, you simply enjoyed being in his company.
Each ride you took, from the drop tower to the rollercoaster to even a little game of bumper cars, was as exhilarating as the last. Even winning a target game against him by barely a single point had you jumping up and down with glee, your arm carrying a big, fluffy white bunny that you confidently stated looked a lot like him. And almost like an unspoken promise, he didn't tease you any more than he already had—the cotton candy remained cotton candy, the marshmallows remained marshmallows, and the animal crackers were eaten just as they should be.
By the time you both had walked back to your apartment, the little bag in his hand containing whatever "surprise" he'd gotten for you rustled against his wrist, and you peered curiously into it once you settled with him on the couch.
"Candy?" you questioned doubtfully as you pulled out a little packet of licorcice, but your eyes shone when you eagerly popped it into your mouth and chewed.
Xavier shrugged, leaning back into the couch. "That... last time we tried snacks together was fun, so I figured you'd appreciate another one."
You almost laughed. "But those were my childhood snacks! These are just your typical candy! We could've tried these any day, you know?"
He raised an eyebrow, taking a chewable candy into his mouth. "We could've worn animal ears any other day, too."
This time you grinned, and settled into his arms. "Yeah, you're right. I have a sweet tooth, anyway, so I'll gladly eat candy with you. You didn't need to set this up..."
You fished into the bag and pulled out a smaller bag of chocolate bits, its brand unfamiliar to you as you held it up.
"Oh, I thought you'd like that one," Xavier spoke first this time. "You like milk chocolate, don't you?"
Something in your heart sparked at the mention, and you couldn't help but smile. "You remembered!"
Your hands were eager as you opened up the packet, unwrapping one piece and putting it into your mouth.
The first bite had your eyes sparkling wide, noting how it melted into your mouth as you chewed.
Xavier looked at you, amused. "Is it good?"
You were excited as you took out another piece of chocolate, and you nodded—this time, you closed your eyes to savor the taste, letting yourself relax into the richness of its flavor. "Mmm... t'so good..." You'd barely noticed the way your satisfaction had the tone of your words twisting into something mildly inappropriate, your eyes still closed as you chewed. And you couldn't have registered that particular smile edge at Xavier's lips once more.
But Xavier wouldn't let you off the hook that easily.
"Hmm. Could I try some?" His voice was close to your ear when he murmured out his words, but you were happy to oblige him, clearly not catching onto his intentions.
You held up the bag of chocolates for him, taking yet another into your mouth—
Instead, he smirked down at you and gently set the chocolates back into the bag with the rest of the candy, pushing it off the couch as his lips found yours.
Your eyes widened, his tongue mixing with yours and tasting for himself the milkiness of the chocolate you'd eaten, his own eyes half-lidded as he lowered you onto the couch. When your head hit the armrest, all sense of arousal from earlier at the theme park came rushing back to you in waves, and you gave in.
Xavier pulled away only to kiss you once more with increasing fervor, and you moaned into the kiss, feeling any rational thought seep from your head within seconds. Your arms were around his neck and his hand was in your hair, your clothed bodies flush against each other as the kiss, the moment, became steadily more passionate, steadily more heated.
The bag of candy slumped on the ground beside the couch, easily long-forgotten with the way his lips moved against yours, his tongue soft and wet in your mouth as the heat slowly began to crawl over to your cheeks. When he pulled back, you were flushed, breathless. His body hovered over yours, his hair hanging over your face, his eyes displaying a lingering sense of desire that mirrored your own.
You swallowed thickly.
"Yeah," Xavier breathed, his voice hushed. He licked his lips. "The chocolate tastes good."
You could barely believe he was still talking about that.
"I-I don—"
"But... I have an idea of what would taste better."
He cut off the beginnings of your protest with a little smirk, and you could see the way his eyes raked over your body to where the skirt of your dress had ridden up just enough to expose the side of your panties.
Your heart thrummed loudly in your chest.
"Wh- what would that be?" You tried testing him, tried to look into his eyes to gauge what his next move was.
"You don't know, angel?" He murmured as he drew closer to you once more, lips barely touching yours, his hot breath fanning over your face.
Feebly, you whimpered, but you didn't dare make a move.
Xavier dipped down to bury his face into your neck, and breathed in deeply. "You smell like strawberries."
Your breath hitched.
"Did you plan this? Your lotion... It's new."
You felt his hands snake underneath your dress, pushing the fabric upwards to grip firmly on your waist. The contact on your bare skin made your eyelids flutter closed.
"F-for you," you replied, your breath shaky.
"For me?"
"Y-you... You like strawberry, so I thought I, um... would make you happy with it..."
Xavier pulled back away from you with a warm smile, his hand leaving your waist momentarily to brush the hair out of his face.
"You always make me happy no matter what you do, angel," he spoke sincerely, genuinely, despite the heated moment that the both of you had just shared. But his eyes narrowed almost playfully, and he tilted his head to the side with a short laugh. "But you don't know how much I've been waiting to eat you up because of that scent."
His words made you whine, a mixture of both pride and embarrassment coarsing through your body at the fact that you had been the one to get him all needy like this for you.
"So, angel..." Xavier trailed his fingertips over your thighs, pushing them apart as he shifted downwards, closer to your core. Another smile teased at his lips when your breath hitched, but his eyes never left yours. "May I?"
You threaded your hands into his hair, and your eyes fell closed.
"Okay."
His lips were on your thighs then, warm and soft as he trailed his kisses upwards. And the sensation of it all made you shiver, but you could almost feel the way it affected him, too. He'd let out soft sighs against your skin, drinking in your scent and your warmth, and then his kisses would almost get needier, craving you just as much as he made you crave him.
You gasped the minute he pressed himself closer to your clothed cunt, breathing in your scent yet again and then poking his tongue out at the wetness that had gathered in your center. Then from there, his movements became quick—his hands shifted beneath your hips, lifting them upwards towards him, your legs draped over his shoulders as he pushed your panties to the side. You couldn't help the way your mouth fell open with a drawn-out moan of his name once he ran his tongue through your folds, licking a wet stripe from your slit upwards.
Your fingers gripped desperately into his hair.
Such a simple motion already had you reeling.
"You even taste like fucking strawberries," he mumbled, before he repeated the motions, long, slow, languid licks that geadually turned to gentle lapping at your wetness. His tongue moved upwards to flick occasionally at your clit, and you could revel in the way he looked—so lost in your taste, his quiet groans reverberating through your body.
And then your thighs trembled around his head, and your eyes widened at the smooth, silky prodding of his tongue as it finally slid inside of you.
"O- oh, god," you leaned your head back against the armrest of his couch, your eyes falling shut once more.
You could have sworn you felt him smile.
With another moan, your hand fell from his head back onto the couch, searching for purchase only for him to reach out, taking advantage of the way you arched your back, and catch your hand with his.
He laced your fingers through together even as he continued to swirl his tongue in your heat, drinking up your arousal, pressing his face closer and closer into you—despite the obscenity of his ministrations and the noises that fell from your lips, the simple action of holding your hand almost made you swoon.
And he didn't dare let go of it.
"I— haah— Xavi—!"
Feeling a familiar knot form in your stomach, you began to languidly roll your hips against his face, matching the way his tongue would dance over and in your folds. In response, Xavier moved with fervor in his actions, focusing on sucking at your clit, flicking his tongue in ways he knew you loved best.
You barely noticed the way his other hand had also left its spot by your hips before a finger entered where his tongue had earlier been—he hooked it inwards, curling just right to hit your sensitive spot, and you let out another loud moan.
"Fuck—! X-Xavier!" You threw your head back, gripping his hand tightly, your other digging desperately into his couch. Your body writhed, a sharp rush of pleasure making you shudder and cry out more of his name as he continued to swirl around your clit, and another finger carefully prodded at your hole.
You couldn't see the way he smiled at you, but you felt it—felt it in the way he sucked on your bud, felt it in the way he stretched you out and moved his fingers in and out of you, until you snapped.
Your hips bucked upwards and into him, holding in place, as your body succumbed to the pleasure.
"X—Xavi—er!" You cried, and his hand holding yours made sweet, gentle caresses over your skin, his tongue still lapping up all that you had to give him. He let out a hum as he moved from your cunt, to your thighs, to your belly, and up to the exposed skin on your neck, leaving a loving trail of kisses, and then he rest his forehead against yours.
"Did that feel nice?" he whispered, lips meeting yours in quick, fond pecks, blue eyes nearly shimmering with how much affection he held for you.
It was more than nice, you thought, but you answered him with a kiss. And as he continued to kiss you back, Xavier edged his hand downwards, slowly, slowly, before the tip of his cock nudged against your entrance—
The contact made you gasp and arch upwards. "Xavi—?!"
"Nnh... Please, angel?" He sighed, nuzzling your nose, massaging your hand. "'M not done with you yet. You can give me more, right?"
You whimpered.
You could feel the sensitivity from your earlier orgasm, unsure if you could truly push yourself for another one. But his cockhead would dip in so... nicely. Xavier was teasing, testing you as he waited for your reply—
And you couldn't resist.
When you gave him a feeble nod, he smiled.
"That's my girl."
The praise made you shiver with delight as he pushed into you slowly, setting an unhurried place, his lips back onto your skin as he nibbled just over your collarbone.
"Ngh... Xavier..." you whined as he slid all the way into you and his teeth grazed your skin, the sting of his bite somewhat foreign, but not unwelcome. "T-tomorrow, we have a..."
"Wear a scarf," he mumbled, barely looking up at you before he shifted to suck on the area next to the mark he'd just made, his intentions with you very clear. In seconds, every roll of his hips against yours, coupled with the way he would bruise at your skin and leave visible evidence of your activities, had you throwing your head back with a moan.
"Mmf—fuck, Xavi," you gripped his body tightly against yours, feeling the way his cock would stretch your walls so perfectly.
"Mh? 'S it good?"
He angled his thrust right against the spongey spot in your walls, and you gasped, feeling the way he would smile against your neck.
It was clear affirmation for him, if your moans of his name didn't already give him enough of it—and despite the fact that you had already cum once, he was adamant on getting you to that high once more.
"Feels good for me, too," he groaned as his pace began to pick up, the faint sounds of skin slapping reaching your ears. Each stroke of his length moved with purpose, hitting that same spot over and over and over, your mouth falling open in whimpers and moans of his name.
"Ah— X- Xavier!" You bucked your hips to match his pace, his grip on you getting tighter, his breath hot and heavy against your neck.
Your eyes met, and you keened at the way his hair fell over his face, his eyes searching yours for something you couldn't name. "...You're so beautiful, angel," he breathed, nearly panting, his thrusts becoming quicker and more erratic.
And you could have thrown the words back at him, were you not so lost in your pleasure as you clenched around his cock, gripping his hand tightly in yours.
"C-close— Xavi—!"
You began panting, your vision hazy, as he rut his hips into yours.
"Mhm— almost there— angel— fuck—"
One final thrust had him collapsing onto your body, pulling your own release out of you as he spilled inside, his cock twitching within your walls as he came.
"Xavier..." you whined, reaching to wrap your arms around him, almost cradling him as he groaned into your skin. "Xavier, I..."
He hushed you with a sloppy kiss, and you could feel the way a significant amount of energy had seeped from his body as he gave you a tiny little smile.
"I love you too, angel," he mumbled, before he was sliding down your body once more, your eyes widening when he settled between your thighs yet again.
"H-huh? What are you—ah—!"
You shuddered and gasped at the contact of his tongue back on your folds, still sensitive as you pushed his cum out of you. But yet his eyes remained on yours, and he stuck out his tongue out to continue lapping at the mess he'd made in your cunt.
"Xavier!" you cried. "P-please, no more...!"
He shook his head slightly. "Shh, angel. Don't worry, relax. Just let me clean you up," he mumbled, taking a dollop of your fluids into his mouth, and then swallowing as you watched, your face flushing red.
There was a small, almost cheeky smile lifting the corners of his mouth when he raised his head slightly.
"It's better than candy."
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⁺₊ / an: took a break from requests to get this up before we all get "unique aftertaste", bc this was mildly inspired by the trailer! <3 xavi with food play has been on my mind a lot, if it wasn't obvious yet...
© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.
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princessoflalaland · 4 months
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Doting ࿔˚⋅
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synopsis: sukuna softens up once he knows he’s a father-to-be. 
࿔˚⋅content: Sukuna x pregnant!reader, fluff, some suggestive themes but hardly any
࿔˚⋅word count: 525
࿔˚⋅a/n: my baby fever has been going haywire as of late. I don’t want kids of my own right now, but I sure would love to have any of the jjk men’s kids. not really proofread
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the size difference between you and lord ryomen sukuna is quite comical. you were half, to some a quarter, of his size. A petite thing beside a mountain. how he ever manages to fit inside of you and stay there long enough to impregnate you will never not baffle those around you two.
but sukuna can’t care less about the opinion of the local lackeys. all of his energy is put into doting over his pregnant spouse. once you agreed to marry him he’d become your other half. when he found out you were pregnant, he became inseparable from you. 
if you rise from the bed you two shared, he’ll mumble his disapproval while trying to keep you secured to his side. “where y’goin? come back to bed, woman…” you try to tug yourself out his grip. “need some water, sukuna,’ you rasp through sleepiness.
He climbs out of bed and lays you back down with tender assertiveness. “don’t make me repeat myself. i’ll get you the water, just stay in bed.”
 you can’t walk two steps without sukuna rushing to your side and cupping your swollen stomach in his beefy hands.
“dammit, woman, don’t exert yourself. I don’t want you putting stress on yourself or my heir.” he reprimands with a worried glare in his crimson eyes. you sigh with a slight shake of your head. 
“kuna, all I did was walk across the room.” your tone is patient and almost teasing. it softens his expression.
 “you shouldn’t have to do anything while you’re like this. here...” “i mean, it’s nothing I can’t hand- woah!” in one swift move, he’s carrying your pregnant figure in his arms, bridal style. he looks at you in that hard, loving way of that he does “you said your feet have been hurting lately, right? Well, you needn’t worry about walking any more.”
in the even that you decide to keep still and rest, you both lounge on the bed. he is be eye-level with your belly, his hand caressing it. he is almost awestruck by how someone as small as you withstood his primal lovemaking and allowed him to impregnate you. A wistful smile slowly forms on his visage as he says, “you’re coming along beautifully, my love. i’m eager to meet our heir and see who he’ll take after.” he presses a kiss to the place where your unborn baby resides before looking up at you. 
your hand rakes through his pink locks as you hum a medley. You tune back into reality at the low rumble of your husband’s voice.
“hmm, i think you mean you can’t wait to see who they take after.” your husband meets your eyes, barely masking his bewilderment. 
Them? As in, more than one? I mean, that wouldn’t be impossible, given how uncharacteristically large your belly is and especially since he pumped you full of his—
your laughter disturbs his thoughts. “i’m just kidding, though, I bet you’d like that. Twin babies…” you rub an absentminded hand over your stomach, dissolving into daydreams of your impending motherhood. He’s always adored the glimmer in your eyes when you talk about your child. 
“i don’t care how many children your body is carrying. Whether it’s one, two, or three. They are mine, ours.” He holds your gaze and the look riddled in his blood-red irises makes your heart swell with affection. “And that’s all I care about.”
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comatosebunny09 · 9 months
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Sleeping together is normal.
You’ve shared beds before like this. Slept beneath the stars with nothing but rubble at your feet, and itchy grass at your backs. But tonight is unlike any other night you’ve spent together. It feels different. As if the air is charged with electricity and something heady in between.
In the back of your tangled mind, you knew admitting your secret desires over a harmless game of 21 Questions would pique his interest. Hells, you had prayed it would. Maybe tonight would be the night that he held you a little tighter, kissed that sensitive spot behind your ear, and acted on the subtle hints he tossed your way.
You can dream.
The silence that stretches between you is unnerving.
Your heart pounds in your ears, your fingers aching with the need to touch. Your sleepiness has faded into the background, replaced by anxiety welling in your gut. It would take nothing to lean up onto your elbows, conquer the space between your mouths, and just—
Ugh! What if you’ve misread the room? What if he only sees you as a friend?
Through the dimness blanketing the room, Astarion’s gaze searches through yours. A beautiful maelstrom of emotions swimming beneath them, looking for something. An indication of discomfort. A plea for him to stay. A silent demand for him to piss off. Anything. He doesn’t press, though his head screams for him to weasel a confession out of you.
When you do not speak, a wistful smile rounds Astarion’s lips. Your silence serves as his answer. He lifts himself from your bedside, turning away towards the entryway. Offers a somber goodnight, darling over his shoulder, but—
Your hand encircling his wrist halts his retreat. He’s wide-eyed when he looks back at you, his voice corked in his throat. You tug again, your gaze averted, and the warmth of bashfulness explodes like solar flares beneath your skin.
Look at you, acting all shy as if he hasn’t seen you bleed.
Astarion moves on autopilot, kneeling again beside you, enraptured by your touch. His mouth quivers with a question; brows furrowed with compassion.
Say the word. Say it. Just—
You beat him to the punch. Release his hand, mournful of the loss of his cool veins dancing beneath your fingertips. You peer down at the wrinkled comforter, fiddling with some frayed threads at its corner. Your saliva scorches your throat as you swallow thickly, willing your vocal cords to work.
“You know I’m afraid of the dark,” you rumble, voice rivaled by the soft wind outside.
It isn’t a complete lie. You’ve always squeezed Astarion a little tighter when the candlelight dwindled—curled up into his side with the blanket pulled over your head, succumbing to the security he provided, fearful of the things that went bump in the night. Like he didn’t once live amongst them. 
It clicks in his mind like the hammer of a revolver slamming forward. He tastes the subtle undercurrents of your timbre. Feels relief coating his rib cage at your plea for his company.
Stay.
Astarion snorts. Smiles, something boyish and genuine, the bulk of his hand swallowing up your wrist. He draws your gaze to him, his teeth shining through the muted light.
“Is that your way of asking me to stay?”
His tone is disarming. Causes your shoulders to drop from your ears and your jaws to unclench. A smirk cants the corner of your lips. Though adrenaline flows through your extremities like liquid fire, you entertain his cheekiness.
“Maybe.”
He peels back the comforter before you can react. The bed croaks beneath his weight, and you shimmy towards the wall to allow him space. Your feet brush, the sensation setting your nerves alight. In your peripheral, Astarion grins. A lithe mass of sinewy muscle and protectiveness looming on the opposite side of the bed.
He makes no move to do anything further. Always a gentleman despite your bodies crying out for each other. Despite his fingers twitching in his lap, and the longing coloring your eyes.
Just…fucking touch me already.
Time eases by like this. Astarion beside you, recounting old memories from adventures long ago. And you both laugh a little. Gradually scoot closer until the moon sits high in the sky, and exhaustion clings to the bags beneath your eyes. You use that as an excuse to snuggle up to him. Though you rarely need a reason to. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, drawing you closer, and the comforter up to your chin. He makes you feel safe. He always does. Always has.
Without thinking, you twine your fingers together. Test the waters, searching his eyes for any signs of discomfort. When he doesn’t say anything, you’re emboldened to bring his hand to your lips and you kiss his knuckles. He stiffens, breath hitches, mouth hangs slightly open. Gradually relaxes little by little. Looks at you with uncertainty in his eyes, as if he’s ready to dive off that cliff with you if you’ll allow him to. You try again, your lashes fluttering. The wine’s long settled in your system. It’s all instinct urging you forward now.
He brings your hand to his mouth to pay the same homage. And then he’s kissing up your wrist, forearm, further still…can’t help himself, drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Lids shutter while his lips seal to yours in a kiss. Slow at first. Gentle because he doesn’t want to scare you off. But he’s waited so long for this. You both have. So pardon him for being a little overzealous. A little swept up in the moment.
You pull away, intoxicated by his earthy scent and the plushness of his lips. Study him, drunk off the feel of him and the soft breaths fanning across your skin.
You kiss again. A little more confident this time. A little more eager. He cups your jaw. Drags you down onto the bed beneath him, mouth slanting possessively over yours, fangs gnashing against your teeth. It’s like a dream. Your hair puddles around you on the pillow. You’re holding his palms to your cheeks, brows pinched, afraid that if he lets go, the dream will shatter. But you’re not dreaming this time. The hoarse, agonized groan he pushes between your lips is proof of it.
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vinvantae · 6 months
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𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮
Jenson button x childhood sweetheart!reader
Summary: The not so wordless agreement that you and Jenson would someday end up together is thrown into turmoil when he’s invited to your proposal party
Word count: 4.4k
Warnings: none
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The snow fell across the fields like a blanket, tucking each blade of grass in for a dream-filled night’s sleep - it would usually be quiet this time of night, but the air was filled with the laughter of the children and teenagers alike who had begged their parents to take their sleds out and venture down the icy slopes. You yourself had been one of them, rapping your fists against the red wood of your neighbour’s door, rocking back and forth on your heels as you waited not so patiently for it to swing open.
“Hi John!” You grinned. “Can Jense come out? I know it’s late but we haven’t had snow like this in years and-”
John smiled and stepped aside, revealing Jenson sat at the bottom of their stairs - shoving his feet into his welly boots. “Looks like someone had the same idea as you, son.”
Jenson looked up from the black rubber of his boots to see his best friend - the tip of your nose and cheeks tinged pink, the pearly whites of your teeth lit up in a big grin. He matched it with a smile of his own, giving his Dad a quick hug before joining you out in the snow, taking your sled from you to carry over his own shoulder. You were wrapped in a big yellow coat, a hand-knitted scarf and a pair of gloves that looked a touch too big for your teenage hands - your boots already covered in a soft layer of snow from the small trek to get Jenson.
“Don’t go too far, and be back by midnight!” John called out. “I’m sure your Mum told you the same, young lady.”
“Yes, boss!” You laughed, arm locked tightly around Jenson's so as not to slip on the icy ground. Your best friend smiled down at you - leaning into you to share your warmth.
Jenson listened to you yap away about all the different things you could make out of snow that would be endlessly better than a snowman. He let his arm drop from yours, moving to loop around your waist so he could haul you in closer - using the cold as an excuse. You gestured towards the moving crowds up ahead.
“The big hill just by the forest is where everyone is, it’s got the best spot for sledging.”
Jenson hummed softly, and you looked up at him. “Yes, but I don’t want to go sledding with everyone. I want to go sledding with you.”
Your nose wrinkled up in a playful disgust, earning a playful shove - a squeak leaving your lips as you nearly slipped on the icy tarmac beneath your feet, but you knew Jenson would never let you fall. His surprisingly strong arm stayed around your middle - holding you close to him. As you looked at him once again, your cheeks warmed - his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.
“You’ve gotta stop looking at me like that, you know what happened last time.” You grumbled, jabbing his waist - breaking eye contact.
Jenson raised a teasing brow. “And who said that would be the worst thing?”
“Jenson.” You hissed quietly, not missing the girls who watched the two of you walking in the opposite direction to the rest of the town. You were well aware of the jealousy that sprung from your friendship with him - you’d been in his life since you were infants, but as the two of you had grown up - Jenson had quickly become established as one of the most handsome boys in school. “Don’t say another word.”
“You know I don’t care what they think.” He grumbled. “I don’t want them…”
You looked up at him, the mischief in his eyes had since faded - replaced with a warm tenderness that you knew he had reserved for you. “Jense…”
“I know, I know.” His sigh was wistful. “I’d give it all up for you, you know that.”
You took his face in your gloved hands, brushing your thumb across his cheeks. “I would never. Racing is your dream, and we’re only kids. You’d hate me in the future for stopping you from chasing your dreams.”
He watched your gaze flutter across his face, trying to get a read on how he felt - but in his silence you spoke again.
“Hey, if you've gone and got all those big racing dreams of yours… and you still want me…”
Jenson’s hand came to rest on top of yours, gently removing it from his face so he could lace your fingers together. “I’ll always want you.”
You laughed, although there was little humour in it. “Jense, we’re only 16. When you’re an adult you may feel different, especially when you’ve got all these beautiful women throwing themselves at you once you’ve won a race…. I would be over the moon if you still wanted me but I’m not going to be disappointed if your feelings change.”
He gave you a sad smile. “…I’ll always want you.”
His forehead came to rest against yours, skin surprisingly warm despite the freezing temperatures. You went to protest again but his lips captured yours in a sweet kiss, you allowed yourself to indulge in a moment of weakness - letting your arms slide around his neck to keep him close.
Letting him go was the right thing to do, being hung up on a girl he knew back home was only going to hold him back. He deserved the right to explore and be free whilst he travelled the world, you’d never ask him to give that up.
Oh, but he wished you had.
He wished you had when he was invited back home after a race season nearly 12 years later by your mother, insisting he had to be at this party. Neither of you were 16 anymore - he was 28 years old, had just come 18th in the championship and felt absolutely miserable. But you? You seemed to be absolutely thriving.
Job of your dreams, beautiful home… and William. Fucking William.
The two of you had been together for almost 3 years now, he was some hot-shot CEO of his own company - money coming out of his ass, private jets, cars. And you knew he spoiled the shit out of you, every time you came to a race to support Jenson - William had insisted on paying for you to have the best experience, despite Jenson offering to do the whole lot for free.
And when he pulled up to the address your mother had given him, he thought his jaw was going to fall through the floor. Sure, he’d seen mansions in his time - but this was a whole different level.
It had a fucking maze in the garden for crying out loud. With a fountain in the middle? Who did this guy think he was? He reluctantly gave his car keys over to the valet, before following others inside - all of a sudden feeling drastically underdressed in his sports coat. He was more than grateful for the champagne that was offered to him as he desperately sought out someone, anyone he knew.
The two of you had grown up together, he thought you had the same friends but he couldn’t recognise a single face. Despite the two of you staying in near constant contact, he suddenly felt like he really didn’t know you at all. The girl he knew would scoff at all this, one of your favourite activities when you came to races past - before William - was making fun of all of the rich people, flaunting their wealth but now you were one of them.
He stepped out onto the back patio, eyes finally landing on your parents - chatting away without a care in the world, your father adorned with a watch and a diamond necklace draped across your mothers neck that he knew they couldn’t afford.
“Jenson! You made it!” Your Mum’s face lit up at the sight of him - she stepped away from the other couple she was with to wrap him up in a tight hug. “Oh she’s going to be so happy you’re here.”
“Have you seen her? I don’t feel like I know anyone here.” He chuckled awkwardly, giving your Dad a hug as well.
“Oh I’m sure she’s just making some finishing adjustments, we need her to look perfect.” She grinned.
Jenson frowned. “What’s the occasion?”
Your mum gasped. “Oh, I was sure William would have told you!”
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “William and I aren’t exactly best mates. I think he only tolerates me because I’ve been around for so long.”
Jenson didn’t miss the look your parents exchanged before your Mum placed a gentle hand on his forearm, giving him a sorry smile. “William is proposing to her, love.”
In that moment, he could’ve sworn his heart stopped - he didn’t know you and William were so serious. He always thought that he was just a distraction until the two of you were both in a place where you were ready to commit. It had almost happened when he got 3rd place back in 2004, but you were so close to a big promotion and you wanted to focus on that. You always wanted to be able to give the other your full 100%, be in a place in life where you were secure - maybe he should’ve just said fuck it and let himself be selfish.
He wasn’t mad at you for dating William, he could never be. But were you really about to marry him? The garden went quiet for a moment, so he looked over his shoulder.
You slowly walked down the stairs into the garden - a long dress in a deep blue hugging your figure, long sleeves to protect you from the cooler weather - a slit in the side allowed you to walk elegantly, your hand still resting against the cold stone of the railing. Jenson wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you with such professional looking makeup, nails to match your dress too. Beneath the jealousy, he felt the urge to tease you - wind you up for becoming one of the posh people you’d always claimed to loathe.
But you looked nervous as you started greeting everyone - eyes flickering around the party, you looked beautiful too, of course, but he recognised the look on your face - he’d only seen it a few times through your life but this was probably the worst he’d seen it. Fear. Did you know what was happening…? And who were you looking for?
William practically led you around the party, his hand never straying from the small of your back - which Jenson could now see was nearly exposed from the low back of your dress, adding to the elegance of your look. Jenson considered going over, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he loitered around your parents - not really letting himself join in on the conversation either, just keeping a watchful eye on you.
But that didn’t last too long either, the clinking of a champagne glass and microphone feedback filled the garden.
“Evening all, thank you all for joining us.” William had led you to the middle of the patio, his hand still on the small of your back.
“I’m sure she’s loving being the centre of attention like this.” He mumbled, earning a gentle elbow to the side from your mother. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“Oh, shush. You had your chance.” She snipped at him.
He went to protest but instead shook his head and turned back to the scene in front of him - you were fiddling with the tips of your fingers, trying to avoid eye contact with the onlooking crowd but still glancing up as if you were looking for someone. Is she looking for me?
“As you know, I’ve been lucky to spend the last 3 years with this wonderful woman at my side.” William spoke with a confidence that demanded attention, Jenson wanted to tear his eyes away but he just couldn’t. “She came into my life at just the right time, and I can’t wait to see where the rest of our time together takes us… so…”
Your whole body froze as William sank to one knee, fishing a small velvet box from his suit pocket. “William…”
Jenson wasn’t sure if anyone else heard the tone of your voice like him, or if he’d just made it up - but it sounded like a warning.
“Would you make me the happiest man alive, and do the honour of being my wife? Will you marry me?”
You risked looking at the crowd one final time, and when your eyes finally met the blue you’d been searching for - you practically felt the tension melt away. Jenson tilted his head a little, raising his brow - you didn’t miss the way the corner of his mouth tugged up into a teasing smirk and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from returning it. You didn’t miss the way your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, how in that moment you wanted nothing more than to rush across the garden and have him wrap you up in his arms.
“…well?”
“Oh.” You suddenly remembered the man currently on one knee in front of you. You tore your gaze away from Jenson to look down at him, a sorry smile on your face. “…I’m… I’m really flattered, Will, I am. Uhm, maybe we can talk about this in private?”
The silence of the crowd was replaced with whispers, although he stood behind him - Jenson could see William’s entire body stiffen and his ears turn a dark pink with embarrassment. “…yeah, uh… yeah okay.”
William passed the microphone to someone before walking off, leaving you standing alone - you mumbled apologies to everyone before doing your best to catch up with him, holding the bottom of your dress so as not to trip over your heels. Jenson finally felt like he could breathe again; whilst everyone else was upset and shocked by the scandal before them - he felt relieved, you did still want him.
“…maybe inviting you was a bad idea.”
Jenson looked to your mother, who was still staring straight ahead. “You can’t tell me you didn’t know that there was a chance she’d say no. This was her choice… this has nothing to do with me.”
She shot him a look. “I saw her face when she realised you were here, Jenson. You had your chance with her, why can’t you let her move on?”
“I’ve not had my chance with her… don’t you see that? I’ve been waiting until I can give her the life she deserves and-“
“She doesn’t need to wait, William can give her that.”
Jenson scoffed. “This isn’t the life she wants… I know William wants her to quit her job and play the pretty little housewife but that’s not who she is. You know that, I know that. And proposing to her in front of all these people? Most of whom I’m not convinced she’d even met before today? Her worst nightmare.”
“Jenson.”
“You didn’t have to invite me… but you did.” He stood his ground. “If you wanted this to happen then you should’ve kept me in the dark, but you know deep down, just as well as I do, that William isn’t the one for her. I love your daughter, more than he ever could.”
Before she could speak again, your father placed a hand on her shoulder - bringing her attention to him. “What’s done is done. It’s her choice at the end of the day… and she didn’t say no, they might be working it out as we speak.”
Your mother rolled her eyes. “Yes honey, because that’s how all happy marriages start - with an argument.”
As the two of them bickered back and forth, Jenson decided to make himself scarce and track you down - weaving through the crowds who were still speaking in hushed tones. Poor William. What was she thinking? How embarrassing.
He ignored them, pushing his way inside - listening out for the two of you and seemingly you hadn’t gone far. A nearby door slightly ajar, a raised voice coming from inside.
“This is so embarrassing! All of my friends are here!”
“And almost none of mine, William.” Your voice was a lot more level, calm. Jenson lent against the wall just outside of the room. “Why did you not invite any of my friends?”
“These are our friends.” He huffed, Jenson could hear him pacing back and forth. “God, I just wanted today to be special - I got your parents here, fuck, I even got your mother to invite Jenson and you know how I feel about that prick.”
“Hey.” You snapped. “Keep his name out of your mouth.”
William went deadly quiet, it was scary. Jenson was close to peeking around the corner to see what was happening, but then William spoke again.
“It’s him isn’t it? It’s always going to be him.”
Your sigh spoke a thousand words, and this time Jenson did risk looking into the room - just to see the look on your face at your boyfriend’s accusation. You didn’t look sad, you didn’t look angry… you had a look of acceptance. You stepped closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his bicep.
“I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you…” Your voice was soft, practically laced with honey. “I love you, William… but Jenson…”
Jenson waited with bated breath to hear your next words - you’d told him before how you felt about him, but this was different. You didn’t know he was there - you had no reason to be gentle with your choice of words. He turned back away from the room, head rolled back against the wall - he allowed his eyes to close.
“He makes me not want to sleep because being with him makes reality better than my dreams… Home is wherever he is.” Your voice was practically a whisper, as if you knew your words would sting if they were any louder. “I just don’t think I could love anyone in the same way as I love him. I… I was selfish with you.”
“I was selfish too.” He admitted, his hand coming up to cup your jaw - thumb brushing across your cheek. “I should’ve just let you be with him. I always knew where your heart truly was…”
“William, this isn’t your fault. Please, don’t blame yourself for this… all of this is on me.”
“I should go. I love you.”
“I love you too.” You whispered. “I’m sorry, you deserve better.”
Jenson froze as he heard the sounds of shoes tapping against the floor, there was no way he could get away without being spotted - so he just accepted his fate, he took a deep breath. The footsteps paused in front of him and he opened his eyes to meet the sorrowful gaze of William. “Treat her well, yeah?”
“I promise. I’m sorry it ended like this, man.” He forced a smile. “Best of luck to you?”
William held his hand out and Jenson shook it, pressing his lips into a line. “You too mate. Sorry for keeping her from you all these years.”
With a gentle pat on Jenson’s shoulder, William left to go sate the crowds - leaving your childhood friend alone in the corridor. He took one deep inhale before stepping into the room - your back was to him, as you looked out the tall window, presumably to watch your ex(?) boyfriend subdue all of his friends.
“Just me and you, under the cover of night… in the forest on that cute mossy stone bridge across the river. The one you like to throw pebbles in.”
You looked over your shoulder with a coy smile. “Sorry?”
“That’s how I’m gonna do it.” He shrugged, stepping up behind you - strong hands coming to settle on your hips, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Nothing fancy like all this.”
He relished in the way your cheeks flushed. “That sounds wonderful, Jense… I can’t wait.”
“Not much longer, I promise.” He whispered, this time kissing just behind your ear. “I’d propose to you right now if we weren’t literally at your engagement party.”
You laughed, turning in his arms. “Tomorrow then?”
He couldn’t help the smile on his face. “Tomorrow it is.”
***
Your feet crunched against the snowy ground, nose and cheeks tinged pink as you made the walk from your flat to Jenson’s house - the roads were too icy to drive and you’d always loved the snow, so walking was the easy choice. You smiled softly as you walked through your old neighbourhood, kids laughing and throwing snowballs, parents peeking through the curtains to watch on.
It didn’t surprise you that Jenson had spent some of his earnings to buy a small home here - it was one of his favourite places in the world, yours too. You rapped your gloved hands against the door, rocking back and forth on your heels as you waited.
As soon as it opened, you were wrapped up in Jenson’s arms - a kiss placed on your cold forehead before he stepped out to join you, locking the door behind him. “Can’t believe it’s snowing.”
“I know, especially since it was so sunny yesterday.” You hummed, looping your arm around his. “Where are we going?”
He gave you a soft smile. “Do you not remember the plans we made yesterday?”
“O-oh.” You giggled. “Yeah, yeah I remember.”
“Good.” Jenson pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “Then let’s go.”
“Wait.” You stopped him walking to take his face in your hands, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you.”
“I love you.” His voice was practically a whisper. “We don’t have to do this today… you literally just broke up with William.”
You tilted your head, giving him a sweet smile - brushing your thumbs across his cheeks. “I want this. I want you.”
His grin was almost bright enough to melt the snow around you, he took your hand in his and the two of you began the journey - careful to avoid any icy patches, holding each other close for balance. Jenson took the time to give you a full catch up of his next season, Honda had pulled out due to financial issues so Ross Brawn had bought the team and they were starting from what felt like nothing - a big risk, they weren’t… well anything. But he had faith, he had to. After coming 18th, what did he have to lose?
You had nothing but adoration for him in his career, no matter where he ended up - you felt foolish for letting each other put your career ahead of your relationship. You knew you were capable of getting your career goals with Jenson by your side, but you always feared he’d have resented you if you’d somehow got in the way of him getting the wins he deserved.
But as you stepped into the forest, the frozen stream sparkling beneath the bridge - none of your worries seemed to matter anymore. Jenson took both of your hands in his and carefully led you onto the bridge, careful not to slip as he walked backwards. “Your trousers will get wet if you kneel, Jense.”
“Worth it.” He grinned. “I know this isn’t a surprise, but you got to promise to let me get through what I have to say, okay?”
“Promise.” You hummed, taking a deep breath, giving his hands a squeeze.
You bit your lip as he got on his knees, keeping his gloved hands wrapped around yours. “Where do I even start?”
“Might be a bit long if you start at the beginning.” You teased.
“Hey, what did I say?” He hushed, narrowing his eyes playfully at you. “Okay… honestly, I don’t think there’s any words that could truly describe just how much I love you, but I’m going to try my best.”
He almost couldn’t get the words out with the way you were looking at him - a gentle sparkle in your eyes as you held back the tears, the softest of smiles on your lips. He took a deep breath.
“You’re my best friend, my soulmate… I literally cannot remember a life before you and I don’t ever want to picture my life without you. I wish I could specify the exact moment in time I knew you were the person I wanted to spend the rest of time with, but it was gradual, all consuming. You’re my first thought when I wake up, my last thought before I fall asleep and you fill all of my best dreams.”
He let go of your hands to remove his gloves and yours from your left hand. “I don’t care that my career isn’t where I want it to be. My biggest regret is simply that I didn’t do this sooner… I want us to achieve our dreams together. I want us to grow and change together.”
The tears were freely rolling down your cheeks and as he pulled a small black box out of his coat pocket, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. How you felt in this moment was polar opposite to how you had felt when it was William on one knee in front of you - you felt safe, loved… Jenson was all you’d ever wanted.
“So, my love, I’m sorry I’m not the first man to ask you this… but I hope to be the last.” He opened up the box, a beautiful ring inside. “Will you marry me?”
You nodded faster than you ever had. “Yes, oh my god, yes.”
Jenson grinned, and you let him slide the ring onto your finger - and you took a moment to admire it, recognising it as his Grandmother’s, a ring that had been promised to you by her when you were no older than 8 and now it was really on your finger. You looked to your fiancé, who was now standing with an expectant look on his face.
“You gonna kiss me or what?” You purred, running your hands up his chest.
“Don’t have to ask me twice, baby.”
He only gave himself a moment to grin before kissing you with a new vigour - when you brought your hands up to hold his face again, he could feel the press of your ring against his skin and it made his heart race. He pulled back just enough to nudge his nose against yours.
“I told you before and I’ll tell you until the end of time… I’ll always want you.”
───※ ·❆· ※───
Hope you enjoyed!
This is really a birthday present for myself cus I’m fully in my Jenson era but I hope you all like it ♥️
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mybelovedwoo · 3 months
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memories of us
bff!san x f!reader
fluff, childhood best friends to lovers / wc: 1.5k
note: i'm back with another san story, i hope you all like it!! if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3
san masterlist - main masterlist
As the swings gently creaked under their weight, San and Y/n sat side by side, the cool night air brushing against their cheeks. The playground, once a realm of youthful adventures, now held a nostalgic charm that wrapped around them like a comforting blanket.
"Do you remember the time we built that sandcastle so tall it almost touched the sky?" Y/n chuckled softly, her eyes gleaming with memories of carefree days.
San smiled, his gaze fixed on Y/n, his best friend since forever. "Yeah, and then it got washed away by a furious monster. We were so upset that day."
They both laughed, the sound echoing softly in the quiet night. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a gentle glow over the playground where they had spent countless hours growing up together.
"I miss those days," Y/n murmured, her voice tinged with wistfulness. "Everything seemed so simple back then."
San nodded in agreement, his heart beating a little faster as he looked at Y/n. Tonight felt different somehow, like the universe had conspired to create this moment just for them.
"Do you remember Mr. Thompson's math class?" Y/n laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You were always the one who saved me from failing."
San chuckled softly. "Yeah, you were never a fan of numbers. But we always managed to get through it together."
As they reminisced, San couldn't help but steal glances at Y/n when she wasn't looking. She looked beautiful under the moonlight, her hair catching the soft glow, her laughter ringing like music in his ears.
"So many memories," San said softly, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "But I think my favorite moments were just being with you."
Y/n looked at him, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "You've always been there for me, San. I don't know what I'd do without you."
San felt a rush of warmth at her words but noticed Y/n shivering slightly in the cool night air. "Hey, you're cold," he said softly, unzipping his jacket and offering it to her. "Here, take this."
Y/n hesitated for a moment before accepting the jacket gratefully. "Thanks, San. You always think of everything."
San chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, if you catch a cold, who's going to laugh at my terrible jokes?"
Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "Your jokes aren't that bad."
They laughed together, the tension easing between them. With Y/n wrapped in San's jacket, they decided to leave the playground and head to their favorite Korean barbecue restaurant. The familiar scent of grilled meat and the lively atmosphere welcomed them as they settled into their usual table.
Over sizzling meat and glasses of soju, they continued their nostalgic trip down memory lane, sharing stories of high school escapades and university adventures. Each tale brought waves of laughter and shared understanding, deepening the connection that had always been there.
"Do you remember that time we tried to cook instant noodles in the dorm using the coffee maker?" Y/n giggled, recalling their disastrous attempt.
San grinned, shaking his head. "And we ended up setting off the fire alarm! Good times."
As the evening progressed, their laughter blended with the murmur of other diners, creating a bubble of warmth and companionship around them. Between bites of delicious food and sips of soju, they found themselves talking about dreams, fears, and everything in between.
Y/n leaned back in her chair, a slight flush on her cheeks from the soju. "You know, San," she began, her words slightly slurred, "I've been thinking... I shouldn't have dated those terrible guys back then."
San raised an eyebrow, curious where this conversation was going. "What do you mean?"
Y/n sighed, looking into her glass before meeting his gaze. "I mean, you were always there to protect me. Like that last time, when my boyfriend cheated on me... You punched him for me, remember?"
San chuckled softly, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, I remember. He deserved it."
"You always made me feel safe, San," Y/n continued, her voice earnest. "And I think... I think I always knew deep down that I deserved better."
San's heart skipped a beat at her words. He had never wanted to see Y/n hurt, especially not by someone who didn't appreciate her the way she deserved.
"You do deserve better, Y/n," San said softly, his hand reaching across the table to gently touch hers. "You deserve someone who sees how amazing you are, who cherishes you every single day."
Y/n smiled warmly at him, her heart fluttering with his words, when suddenly a voice interrupted their moment.
"Hey, San! Fancy seeing you here," a chirpy voice exclaimed from behind them.
San and Y/n turned to see a girl from one of San's classes approaching their table. She had a bright smile plastered on her face, and her presence seemed to fill the space between San and Y/n.
"Hi... uh, Jia," San greeted, trying to remain polite but slightly caught off guard.
Jia ignored the slight awkwardness and turned to Y/n, giving her a quick once-over before saying, "Oh, you must be Y/n! San talks about you all the time."
Y/n forced a smile, feeling a tinge of discomfort. "Nice to meet you, Jia."
Jia took the seat next to San without waiting for an invitation, completely oblivious to the atmosphere between San and Y/n. "So, what are you guys up to tonight?"
San exchanged a quick glance with Y/n, silently communicating their desire to continue their private conversation. "Actually, Jia, we were just catching up. It's been a while since we've had a chance to hang out."
Jia's smile faltered slightly, but she pressed on. "Oh, that's cool! Mind if I join you then?"
Before San could respond, Y/n interjected, "Actually, Jia, we were just finishing up here. It was nice meeting you, but we should probably get going."
Jia looked disappointed but didn't seem to take the hint. "Oh, okay then. Well, maybe we can all hang out sometime soon!"
San shot Y/n an apologetic look before standing up. "Yeah, maybe. We'll see you around, Jia."
As they walked away from the table, Y/n let out a sigh of relief. "That was... unexpected."
San chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Sorry about that. Jia can be a bit... persistent."
Y/n nodded, but a nagging feeling tugged at her heart. "It's just... you never mentioned her before. Is she in your class often?"
San noticed the change in Y/n's tone and paused, realizing her discomfort. "Yeah, she's in a few of my classes. She's friendly and all, but we've never been close like that."
Y/n furrowed her brow slightly, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn't quite articulate. "But she seemed really comfortable around you... sitting so close and all."
San glanced at Y/n, sensing her unease. "Y/n, I promise you, she's just a classmate. She's never been anything more than that."
The tension between them lingered as they walked through the quiet streets, the city lights casting soft shadows around them. Y/n bit her lip, trying to push away the unwelcome feelings of jealousy that were bubbling up inside her.
"I'm sorry," Y/n finally murmured, breaking the silence. "I didn't mean to... I guess I'm just not used to seeing you with other girls."
San nodded, understanding her feelings. "I get it, Y/n. You're important to me, and I don't want you feeling uncomfortable."
Y/n smiled gratefully, feeling reassured by his words. "Thank you, San. Let's continue this conversation at my place? We can have a few more drinks and just talk."
San nodded, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Sure, that sounds good."
They walked the remaining distance to Y/n's apartment in comfortable silence, the tension from earlier easing with each step. The night air was cool and crisp, a welcome contrast to the warmth they felt between them.
As they entered Y/n's cozy apartment, San couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Y/n seemed lost in thought, her usual cheerful demeanor replaced by a quiet contemplation.
"Is everything alright, Y/n?" San asked gently, taking a seat on the couch.
Y/n hesitated for a moment before answering, "Yeah, I'm fine." But her voice lacked conviction.
San studied her for a moment, sensing her unease. "You seem... distracted. Is it about earlier?"
Y/n sighed softly, running a hand through her hair. "I guess I'm just confused. I didn't expect to feel jealous when Jia came over. It's not like me."
San nodded, understanding her turmoil. "It's okay to feel that way, Y/n. Sometimes emotions surprise us."
Y/n hesitated for a moment before asking, her voice hesitant, "San, why have I never seen you with a girlfriend before? Have you... never dated anyone?"
San met her gaze with a tender smile. "No, Y/n. I've never had a girlfriend. There's only ever been one person I've cared about deeply."
Y/n furrowed her brow slightly, trying to grasp the weight of his words. "Who?"
San took a deep breath, his heart beating a little faster. "You, Y/n. It's always been you."
Y/n's eyes widened in surprise, her breath catching in her throat. "Me?"
San nodded, his voice filled with sincerity. "Yes, you. Since we were kids, I've only ever had eyes for you."
Y/n felt a rush of emotions—surprise, joy, and a flicker of disbelief mingled together. "I... I never knew."
San reached out and gently took her hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "I didn't want to risk our friendship by saying anything. But tonight, seeing you jealous over Jia... it made me realize I couldn't keep it to myself anymore."
Y/n searched his eyes, finding honesty and vulnerability mirrored back at her. "San, I... I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," San replied softly, his thumb brushing over her hand. "I just needed you to know how I feel."
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging in the air. Y/n's mind raced with a thousand thoughts, but one truth stood out above all—the boy she had grown up with, the one who had always been there for her, was the one she had unknowingly longed for.
"San," she finally whispered, her voice trembling slightly, "I think... I think I feel the same way."
San's eyes widened in hopeful surprise, a smile spreading across his face. "You do?"
Y/n nodded, a shy smile playing on her lips. "Yeah... I think I do."
Relief and joy washed over San's features, and he pulled her into a gentle embrace. "Y/n, you have no idea how happy you've made me."
They held each other, the warmth of their embrace melting away any remaining doubts or uncertainties. In that moment, they both knew that they were embarking on a new chapter—one filled with love, trust, and the promise of a future together.
As they sat together, basking in the glow of their newfound understanding, Y/n couldn't help but feel grateful for the twists and turns that had brought them to this moment. It was a journey that had started in childhood innocence and had now blossomed into a love story that was just beginning to unfold.
-
taglist: @dinossaurz
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wonyowonyo · 23 days
Text
Sanctuary (H. Yunjin X M! Reader)
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Hello there again! Another lsrfm fic by yours truly. This one is a request by (@dav1233555) that was long overdue, so once again I apologize for taking too long! And that also apply to other requests that are currently queued hehe, apologies for the long wait as I'm currently busy with other stuff going on! Anyways, enough about yapping; this one was abt 4.3k words, hope yall enjoy! I'll see yall on the next one. wonyo out!
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As the sun began to set on the bustling streets of Seoul, Huh Yunjin, a member of the popular K-pop girl group Le Sserafim, couldn't help but feel a mix of exhaustion and excitement coursing through her veins. She had just finished a grueling practice session with her group, her muscles aching from the hours of intense choreography and vocal training, but the thought of spending the evening with her beloved boyfriend, Y/n, was all the motivation she needed to push through the fatigue.
Yunjin's eyes scanned the crowded street as she walked out of the practice studio, searching for the familiar face of her partner. It didn't take long for her gaze to land on Y/n, who was waiting for her by their car, a bright smile lighting up his features. Yunjin felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of him, and she quickened her pace, desperate to reach him.
"Hey, love," Y/n said, his voice warm and inviting as he opened the car door for her. "You look stunning, as always."
Yunjin couldn't help but blush at his compliment, playfully rolling her eyes as she slid into the passenger seat. "You're biased, but I'll take the compliment," she teased, her lips curving into a smile.
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The drive to the beach was a familiar one, a route they had taken countless times before, but the excitement Yunjin felt was still palpable. She had been looking forward to this evening all week, the thought of spending some much-needed quality time with Y/n just what she needed to unwind and recharge.
As they arrived at the secluded spot along the coastline, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore and the warm, salty breeze immediately put Yunjin at ease. She slipped off her shoes, feeling the soft sand between her toes, and walked hand in hand with Y/n along the shoreline, their fingers intertwined.
The sky was painted with hues of pink and orange as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the ocean and the surrounding landscape. Yunjin couldn't help but feel a sense of serenity wash over her, like she was exactly where she was meant to be.
She turned to Y/n, who was watching her with a look of pure adoration, and Yunjin felt her heart swell with emotion.
"I'm so grateful for this, for us," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of the waves.
Y/n's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled back at her, his grip on her hand tightening ever so slightly. "I'm grateful for you, Yunjin. You're the sunshine that brightens up my day, every day."
As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Yunjin and Y/n decided to head back to his cozy apartment, where they spent the rest of the evening cuddled up on the couch, watching their favorite TV shows and sharing snacks.
At one point, Y/n turned to Yunjin, his expression almost wistful. "Hey, can I ask you something?"
Yunjin looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Anything, love."
"Do you remember the first time we met, at that music festival years ago?" Y/n asked, a faraway look in his eyes.
Yunjin's face lit up with a smile, the memory of that fateful day flooding her mind. "How could I forget? You were so awkward and charming, I couldn't help but be drawn to you."
Y/n chuckled, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. "I was so nervous, I think I stuttered through our entire conversation."
"But you still managed to ask for my number," Yunjin teased, playfully nudging him with her elbow.
"I knew from that moment that I wanted to spend more time with you," Y/n said, his voice filled with sincerity. "And now, here we are, living our best lives together."
Yunjin's heart swelled with emotion as she looked at Y/n, her gaze filled with adoration and affection. She knew that their relationship wasn't without its challenges – the K-pop industry was notorious for its demanding schedules and intense scrutiny – but in this moment, she felt like they could conquer anything as long as they had each other.
As they continued to watch TV, Yunjin snuggled deeper into Y/n's embrace, feeling his warmth and comfort envelop her like a gentle hug. She knew that this was where she was meant to be – in his arms, surrounded by love and support.
The night wore on, and the TV show they were watching faded into the background as they began to open up to each other, sharing their hopes and dreams, their fears and vulnerabilities. It was one of those heart-to-heart conversations that only happened when you felt completely safe and trusted with someone.
"I'm scared, Y/n," Yunjin confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared of not being able to balance my career and our relationship. The demands of this industry are so relentless, and I worry that I won't have enough time or energy to devote to us."
Y/n held her tighter, his grip reassuring and comforting. "We'll figure it out together, love. We've made it this far, and I know we can face anything as long as we have each other. Your career is important, but so are you, and I'll always be here to support you, no matter what."
Yunjin felt a wave of relief wash over her, her worries slowly dissipating as Y/n's words sank in. She knew that he was right – they had weathered the storms of her demanding idol life before, and they would do it again, side by side.
As the night drew to a close, Yunjin felt a sense of peace wash over her. She knew that she wasn't alone in this journey, that Y/n would always be there to support her, to love her, and to cherish her.
In this moment, surrounded by the silence of the night, Yunjin knew that their love was pure, true, and strong enough to overcome any obstacle that came their way.
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The next morning, Yunjin woke up feeling refreshed and energized, the fatigue from the previous day's practice session a distant memory. As she stretched her limbs, she couldn't help but glance over at Y/n, who was still sleeping peacefully beside her, his features soft and relaxed.
Yunjin reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead, a tender smile playing on her lips. She loved these quiet moments, when she could simply observe Y/n and bask in the warmth of his presence.
Suddenly, Y/n's eyes fluttered open, and he greeted Yunjin with a sleepy smile. "Good morning, my love," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
"Good morning," Yunjin whispered back, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Did you sleep well?"
Y/n nodded, his arms wrapping around Yunjin's waist as he pulled her closer. "Mhm, better than I have in a while. Having you by my side makes all the difference."
Yunjin snuggled into his embrace, relishing the feeling of being surrounded by his comforting warmth. "I'm so grateful for that, for us," she murmured, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest.
Y/n pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering for a moment. "And I'm grateful for you, Yunjin. You bring so much light and joy into my life, and I can't imagine it without you."
They lay there in comfortable silence for a few moments, simply enjoying each other's presence and the tranquility of the morning. Yunjin could feel the tension slowly leaving her body, replaced by a sense of contentment and peace.
Eventually, they reluctantly dragged themselves out of bed, knowing that Yunjin had a busy day ahead of her. As they prepared for the day, Yunjin couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety at the thought of returning to the demanding schedule of her idol life.
Sensing her unease, Y/n reached out and gently squeezed her hand. "Hey, it's going to be okay. I know it's not easy, but we'll get through this together, like we always do."
Yunjin gave him a grateful smile, her fingers intertwining with his. "I know, and I'm thankful to have you by my side. You always know just what to say to make me feel better."
They shared a final, lingering kiss before heading out the door, Yunjin's heart feeling a little lighter and her steps a little more sure. As she made her way to the practice studio, she couldn't help but reflect on how lucky she was to have someone like Y/n in her life – a partner who understood the demands of her career, who supported her unconditionally, and who made her feel loved and cherished, no matter what.
The day was long and grueling, with endless hours of rehearsals, vocal training, and choreography. Yunjin's body ached, her muscles protesting with each movement, but she pushed through, fueled by her determination and the thought of seeing Y/n again later that evening.
As she finally stepped out of the practice studio, Yunjin felt a sense of relief wash over her. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the city, and the familiar sight of Y/n's car waiting for her was a welcome sight.
"Hey, love," Y/n said, a bright smile on his face as he opened the car door for her. "You look exhausted, but as beautiful as ever."
Yunjin couldn't help but chuckle, the tension in her shoulders easing as she slid into the passenger seat. "You always know just what to say to make me feel better."
The drive back to Y/n's apartment was filled with comfortable conversation, Yunjin sharing the highlights and challenges of her day while Y/n listened attentively, offering words of encouragement and support whenever she needed them.
As they arrived at their destination, Yunjin felt a sense of relief wash over her. This place, Y/n's cozy home, had become a sanctuary for her, a safe haven where she could truly be herself, away from the prying eyes of the public and the demands of her idol life.
"I don't know what I'd do without this place," Yunjin murmured, her gaze sweeping over the familiar surroundings as they stepped inside.
Y/n wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. "And I don't know what I'd do without you, my love. This place is our haven, our refuge, and I'm so grateful to share it with you."
They settled onto the plush sofa, Yunjin snuggling into Y/n's embrace as they turned on the TV, the soft glow of the screen casting a warm light on their faces. Yunjin felt her muscles begin to relax, the tension slowly melting away as she allowed herself to be enveloped in Y/n's comforting presence.
As they flipped through the channels, Yunjin suddenly remembered their conversation from the previous night, the one where she had confessed her fears about balancing her career and their relationship.
"Y/n?" she began, her voice soft and tentative.
"Hmm?" he hummed in response, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her arm.
"About what I said last night… I want you to know that I'm truly grateful for your support. I know it can't be easy, dealing with the demands of my idol life, but you've always been there for me, no matter what."
Y/n pulled her closer, his grip reassuring. "Yunjin, you don't ever have to thank me for that. I love you, and I'll always be here to support you, no matter what challenges we face. We're in this together, remember?"
Yunjin felt a lump form in her throat, overwhelmed by the depth of Y/n's love and devotion. "I love you too, so much. I don't know what I'd do without you."
They fell into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other's company and the warmth of their embrace. Yunjin knew that as long as she had Y/n by her side, she could face anything the world threw her way.
As the evening wore on, they decided to order in some of their favorite takeout, filling the apartment with the enticing aromas of their favorite dishes. Yunjin's stomach growled in anticipation, and Y/n couldn't help but chuckle at the sound.
"Looks like someone's hungry," he teased, pressing a playful kiss to the tip of her nose.
Yunjin playfully swatted at him, her lips curved into a smile. "Well, maybe if someone didn't keep distracting me from eating, I wouldn't be so hungry."
Y/n raised his hands in mock surrender, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "My apologies, my love. I'll be sure to let you enjoy your meal in peace."
They settled in to enjoy their dinner, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they recounted the highlights of their day and made plans for the weekend. Yunjin couldn't help but marvel at how seamlessly their lives had become intertwined, how every moment she spent with Y/n felt like coming home.
As they finished their meal, Yunjin leaned back into the couch, letting out a content sigh. "I don't know how I'd get through this without you, Y/n. You always know how to make me feel better, no matter what."
Y/n reached out and gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his touch feather-light and tender. "And I'll always be here, Yunjin, to support you, to hold you, and to love you, no matter what. We're in this together, remember?"
Yunjin felt a surge of emotion wash over her, and she leaned in, pressing her lips to Y/n's in a deep, passionate kiss. In that moment, she knew that as long as she had him by her side, she could face anything the world threw her way.
As the night drew to a close, Yunjin and Y/n cuddled up on the couch, their limbs tangled together as they watched the stars twinkle outside the window. Yunjin felt a sense of peace wash over her, her worries and anxieties from the day melting away.
"You know," Y/n began, his voice barely above a whisper, "I remember the first time we met, at that music festival all those years ago. I was so nervous, I could barely string two words together."
Yunjin chuckled, the memory bringing a smile to her face. "And yet, you still managed to ask for my number. I was so charmed by your awkward charm, I couldn't say no."
Y/n pulled her closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I knew from that moment that I wanted to spend more time with you, to get to know you better. And now, here we are, building a life together, facing the world side by side."
Yunjin felt her heart swell with emotion, overwhelmed by the depth of the love they shared. "I'm so grateful for you, Y/n. For your unwavering support, your patience, and your love. I don't know what I'd do without you in my life."
"And I'll always be here, Yunjin," Y/n murmured, his fingers gently tracing the outline of her face. "Through the good times and the bad, the highs and the lows. We'll face it all, together."
As the night wore on, Yunjin and Y/n continued to share their dreams, their fears, and their hopes for the future, their conversation flowing effortlessly. Yunjin felt a sense of security and belonging that she had never experienced before, and she knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, she would face them with Y/n by her side.
As the first rays of dawn began to peek through the curtains, Yunjin snuggled deeper into Y/n's embrace, feeling the weight of her exhaustion slowly dissipate. She knew that the coming days would be filled with demanding schedules and intense scrutiny, but in this moment, she felt a sense of peace and contentment that she hadn't felt in a long time.
Yunjin pressed a tender kiss to Y/n's cheek, her voice barely above a whisper. "I love you, Y/n. Thank you for being my safe haven, my rock, in this crazy world."
Y/n's arms tightened around her, his lips curving into a warm smile. "I love you too, Yunjin. Always and forever."
With the sun rising on a new day, Yunjin felt a renewed sense of determination and strength. With Y/n by her side, she knew that she could face anything the world threw her way. Together, they would navigate the challenges of her idol life, their love a beacon that would guide them through the storms.
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As the morning light streamed in through the window, Yunjin slowly opened her eyes, relishing the warmth of Y/n's embrace. She traced the contours of his face with her fingertips, marveling at how peaceful and serene he looked in his sleep.
Carefully, Yunjin disentangled herself from his grasp, not wanting to disturb his much-needed rest. She padded quietly into the kitchen, the soft patter of her feet on the hardwood floor the only sound breaking the stillness of the apartment.
Yunjin set about preparing a simple breakfast of toast, scrambled eggs, and freshly brewed coffee – Y/n's favorite. As she cooked, the tantalizing aroma of the food filled the air, making her own stomach rumble in anticipation.
When the meal was ready, Yunjin carried the tray back to the bedroom, the corners of her lips curving into a gentle smile as she watched Y/n begin to stir. His eyes fluttered open, and he greeted her with a sleepy grin.
"Good morning, my love," Yunjin said softly, placing the tray on the bedside table and settling back down next to him.
"Morning," Y/n murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. He reached out and pulled Yunjin close, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "You're up early."
Yunjin nodded, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "I wanted to surprise you with breakfast. You've been working so hard to support me, and I wanted to do something special for you."
Y/n's eyes softened, and he cupped her face in his hands, his thumb gently caressing her cheek. "You're too good to me, Yunjin. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm grateful every single day."
They ate their breakfast in comfortable silence, savoring the simple pleasure of each other's company. Yunjin couldn't help but notice the way Y/n's eyes followed her every move, the adoration and affection in his gaze making her heart swell with emotion.
As they finished their meal, Yunjin reached out and intertwined their fingers, her expression suddenly serious. "Y/n, I want you to know that I'm fully committed to making this work – to balancing my career and our relationship. I know it hasn't been easy, but you've been by my side every step of the way, and I'm truly grateful for that."
Y/n squeezed her hand reassuringly, his lips curving into a warm smile. "I know, Yunjin. And I want you to know that I'll always be here, no matter what. Your dreams and your passions are a part of who you are, and I love every single aspect of you."
Yunjin felt a lump form in her throat, the depth of his love and acceptance overwhelming her. "I love you, Y/n. More than you could ever know."
They shared a tender, lingering kiss, their bodies molding together as if they were made for each other. Yunjin knew that with Y/n by her side, she could conquer anything that came her way.
As the morning wore on, Yunjin couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for the day ahead. She had a busy schedule, with rehearsals, photo shoots, and interviews lined up, but she knew that she was ready to face it all with renewed vigor.
Y/n, sensing her energy, gently squeezed her hand. "You've got this, Yunjin. Just remember to take care of yourself, okay? I'll be here, waiting for you, whenever you need a break."
Yunjin nodded, a grateful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I know, and I can't thank you enough for that. You're my rock, Y/n, and I don't know what I'd do without you."
As Yunjin prepared to leave, Y/n pulled her into a tight embrace, his lips pressing a lingering kiss to the top of her head. "I love you, Yunjin. Always and forever."
Yunjin savored the moment, committing the feel of his arms around her and the warmth of his touch to memory. "I love you too, Y/n. See you tonight?"
Y/n nodded, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Absolutely. I'll be here, waiting for you."
With one final kiss, Yunjin reluctantly headed out the door, her steps lighter and her heart filled with a renewed sense of purpose. As she made her way to the practice studio, she couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude and love for the man who had become her safe haven, her rock, in this crazy world.
The day was long and grueling, as Yunjin had expected, but she pushed through, fueled by the knowledge that Y/n was waiting for her, ready to offer his unwavering support and love. Each time she felt her energy waning, she would think of him, of the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, of the warmth of his embrace, and she would find the strength to carry on.
When Yunjin finally stepped out of the practice studio, a wave of exhaustion washed over her. Her muscles ached, and her voice was hoarse from hours of vocal training, but the sight of Y/n's familiar car waiting for her instantly lifted her spirits.
As she slid into the passenger seat, Y/n greeted her with a warm smile, his eyes filled with concern. "You look exhausted, my love. How was your day?"
Yunjin let out a weary sigh, leaning her head back against the headrest. "It was long, but I made it through. I'm just glad to be here with you now."
Y/n reached out and gently squeezed her hand, his touch soothing and comforting. "I'm proud of you, Yunjin. You're incredible, you know that?"
Yunjin felt a blush creep up her cheeks, and she couldn't help but smile. "I couldn't do it without you, Y/n. You're my strength, my inspiration, and I'm so grateful to have you by my side."
The drive back to the apartment was a quiet one, but Yunjin didn't mind. She was content to simply bask in Y/n's presence, to feel the warmth of his hand in hers and the steady rhythm of his breathing.
As they stepped through the front door, Yunjin felt a wave of relief wash over her. This place, their haven, was a sanctuary where she could let down her guard and just be herself, without the constant scrutiny and demands of the outside world.
Y/n, sensing her tension, gently guided her towards the bedroom, his touch featherlight and soothing. "Come on, love. Let's get you into a hot bath and then we can order in some of your favorite food, okay?"
Yunjin nodded gratefully, her body practically sagging with exhaustion. "That sounds perfect, Y/n. Thank you."
As she sank into the steaming water, Yunjin felt the tension slowly leaving her body, her muscles unwinding with each passing minute. The familiar scent of her favorite bath products filled the air, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of calm wash over her.
Yunjin closed her eyes, allowing her mind to drift, and found herself thinking about the future – about the challenges and triumphs that lay ahead, and about the unwavering support she had in Y/n.
She knew that the road ahead would not be an easy one, that the demands of her idol life would continue to test the limits of her strength and resilience. But with Y/n by her side, Yunjin felt like she could conquer anything.
As she emerged from the bathroom, refreshed and rejuvenated, Yunjin found Y/n waiting for her, a warm smile on his face. He pulled her into a gentle embrace, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her back.
"Feeling better?" he murmured, his breath tickling her ear.
Yunjin nodded, her arms tightening around his waist. "Much better, thanks to you."
They settled onto the couch, cuddled up together as they enjoyed their dinner and watched a mindless TV show. Yunjin couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment and peace wash over her, her worries and anxieties from the day slowly melting away.
As the night drew to a close, Yunjin turned to Y/n, her eyes shining with affection. "Y/n, I don't know what I'd do without you. You're my everything, and I'm so grateful to have you in my life."
Y/n pulled her close, his lips pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "And I'm grateful for you, Yunjin. You're the light of my life, and I'll always be here, no matter what challenges we face."
They held each other in comfortable silence, their heartbeats in sync as they basked in the warmth of their love. Yunjin knew that with Y/n by her side, she could face anything the world threw her way, and she couldn't wait to continue building their life together, one filled with love, laughter, and unwavering support.
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girlkisser13 · 2 months
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the lakes
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"i don't belong" "and, my beloved, neither do you" "those windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry" "i'm setting off" "but not without my muse" "no, not without you"
pairings: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader
warnings/tags: none. purely fluff.
summary: benedict meets a kindred spirit at a ball.
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benedict sighed inwardly as he stepped into yet another ballroom, its opulence gleaming under the glow of chandeliers. his mother, the formidable dowager viscountess, had insisted on his attendance, her fervent hopes for a matrimonial match unwavering. he scanned the room filled with anxious mamas and their hopeful daughters, feeling an acute sense of entrapment.
desiring a reprieve from the stifling atmosphere, benedict discreetly made his way to the terrace, the cool night air offering a welcome respite. he was not alone. a vision of grace and beauty stood by the balustrade, her silhouette illuminated by the moonlight.
captivated, benedict approached her. “good evening,” he greeted softly, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity. “might i have the honor of your name?”
you turned towards him, your eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and surprise. “and who might you be, sir, to inquire so boldly?”
“benedict bridgerton, at your service,” he replied with a slight bow. “i could not help but be drawn to you, and i was curious to know what brings such a fair lady to the terrace.”
you laughed, a melodious sound that resonated with him deeply. “avoiding the anxious mamas, are we?” you teased.
benedict smiled. “indeed. i find their pursuits rather overwhelming at times.”
“and what pursuits do you favor, mr. bridgerton?” you inquired, your interest piqued.
“i have a profound appreciation for art,” he confessed. “you, my lady, possess a beauty that would make you an exceptional muse.”
your cheeks flushed delicately at his compliment. “you flatter me, sir. but what about you? why are you out here, away from the merriment?”
benedict’s expression grew contemplative. “do you ever yearn for something beyond the endless round of dazzling parties and societal expectations?” he asked, his tone earnest.
you nodded, a wistful look in your eyes. “often. i find myself feeling out of place amidst the revelry.”
“i share that sentiment,” benedict admitted. “at times, i feel as though i do not belong in society’s carefully curated mold.”
your gaze softened. “sticking out is far better than fitting in,” you said thoughtfully. “i too feel as though i do not belong. at times, i even contemplate running away from the duties imposed by society.”
benedict looked at you in surprise. “that is nonsense, for you seem most amiable and inspiring. it is astonishing that you have not yet found a match.”
you laughed again, the sound enchanting him further. “perhaps it is because i seek something more profound than a mere match.”
with a mischievous glint in his eye, benedict jested, “then perhaps we should run away together.”
your laughter rang out once more, a delightful melody in the night. “ah, mr. bridgerton, you are quite the rogue.”
benedict grinned, feeling a sense of connection with you that he had not felt in the confines of the ballroom. “perhaps. but it is in moments like these that one truly lives.”
you tilted your head, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "would you truly run away with someone you have just met?"
benedict's gaze was unwavering. "of course, i would never go anywhere without my muse."
you laughed as you gave him a gentle shove, the playful gesture warming his heart. the two of you continued to converse, your words weaving a tapestry of shared dreams and mutual understanding.
the night deepened, but the bond between you both only grew stronger, as the two of you talked long into the night, the world of society and its expectations forgotten in each other's company.
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