FIC SUMMARY ⋆˚꩜｡ ( lando norris x deaf!fem!reader ) ( 1.7k wc )
⤷ Lando is immediately hooked after a brief, flirty encounter at a Monaco party with a beautiful stranger who can't seem to keep her eyes off his lips. What he mistakes for coy, mysterious eye contact turns out to be something much more meaningful, setting off a sweet journey of learning how to communicate in a whole new way.
WARNINGS:
⤷ fluff and romance, meet-cute / coincidence trope, deaf reader / lip-reading, sweet/whipped lando norris, language barriers, learning sign language (bsl & fsl), disability representation (deafness/hearing aids), emotional sweetness, zero angst bc why would i do that?
REQUESTED!
⤷ this fic was requested by annon, see request here
( my m. list | more of LN1 ) ( requests )
The party was already halfway to wild when Lando arrived, music pulsing through the walls like a second heartbeat, voices echoing off marble and glass. Monaco knew how to throw a party, and his friends knew how to fill it with beautiful strangers.
He wasn’t expecting anything. Just a few drinks, a few laughs. Maybe a bit of dancing if the night got loud enough. He wasn’t looking. But she—you—were impossible to miss.
You were tucked against the wall, cradling a drink, eyes scanning the room like you were reading the air instead of listening to the bass. You didn’t seem shy, not exactly, but . . . separate. As if the world were one beat behind you, and you liked it that way.
Lando didn’t mean to stare, but when you looked at him, like really looked at him, it was straight to the core. No second-guessing or coyness, just a direct gaze, your eyes flickering from his irises to his lips as he said something to a friend nearby.
His heart stuttered. Was she checking me out?
The thought was a little spark of adrenaline. His smirk curled before he could stop it. And so, when he crossed the room—half-drunk on curiosity, half-encouraged by how you didn’t look away—he felt his pulse quicken.
“Hey,” he said, voice dipped low with that lazy confidence he wore like cologne.
Your gaze dropped again, flicked to his mouth. There it was again. That glance. That look. Was it on purpose? You weren’t speaking yet, just watching him, sipping slowly. Coy. Mysterious. And god, pretty.
He took a step closer, just enough to lean in. Just enough to blur the lines of personal space. You didn’t step back.
“You know,” he said, voice a little louder, pitched right for your ear, “if you’re gonna keep looking at my lips, I’m gonna assume you’re flirting.”
Your laugh wasn’t loud, more so luminous. It tumbled out of you like it had caught you off guard. Like you didn’t expect him to notice. Or to call it out so cheekily.
Your cheeks flushed, and your smile split wide and warm and real, all teeth and crinkled eyes. Then came a giggle, tiny, pretty, involuntary. The kind of sound that made the air feel just a little more golden.
Lando’s grin deepened. Jackpot.
He reached out, light fingers brushing your arm before tugging you in, gentle and bold all at once. His mouth hovered just beside your ear now, voices around you both fading into static.
“What’s your name, then?” he asked, the words a hush meant only for you.
You turned your face slightly, close enough that your nose nearly touched his cheek, and told him.
He repeated it softly, testing it on his tongue, letting it bloom between you. “Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he murmured.
You ducked your head a little, smiling like he’d just told you a secret, and Lando? He was hooked.
In that moment, he didn’t know why you hadn’t answered some of his questions. He didn’t know why your eyes lingered on his mouth instead of his eyes. He didn’t notice the tiny aids tucked behind your ears, almost hidden by your hair.
But he noticed you. And that was more than enough to make him want to know everything else.
Lando had the posture of an iPad kid—head bowed low, thumb tapping away like he was trying to beat his high score in some unspoken race. Hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows, standing in the line of a cafe to order something, he was way too deep into his phone to notice much of anything.
That is . . . until he heard it.
Your voice.
Not loud, not dramatic—just familiar? Would that be the right word? Warm and airy, threaded with French charm, speaking to the barista two people in front of him in a tone he’d remember anywhere.
His head shot up. And there you were.
Hair tied back, sunglasses perched atop your head, that same effortless glow clinging to you like sunlight through a windowpane. You were focused on the pastry case, unaware that the boy from the party—the one who had whispered flirty things in your ear like they were sweet nothings carved into air—was standing just behind you in line.
Lando blinked. Destiny? Coincidence? He didn’t care. He was already smiling.
By the time he placed his own order and turned to look for you, you were by the pick-up counter, waiting, scrolling through your phone with one hip cocked lazily against the wood.
“Hiii,” Lando said, drawing it out softly as he approached, like a secret between friends.
You looked up—and your smile, god, your smile—was that same one from the party. A little startled, then a little delighted.
“Hey,” you greeted, voice like the fizz on top of soda, sweet and unexpected.
He leaned against the counter, just enough to close the distance. “What are the chances, huh?” he said, smirking. “I was just thinking about you.”
You tilted your head, eyes narrowing with amused disbelief. “Really?”
“Swear,” Lando grinned. “It’s fate. The universe clearly wants us to keep bumping into each other.” His gaze softened. “And I’m not complaining. I get to see you smile again.”
Your cheeks flushed instantly, warmth blooming from your chest to your fingertips. You looked down with a small laugh, trying (and failing) to hide the curve of your mouth.
Lando’s grin only widened. He watched you as your order was called, and when you stepped up to collect it, he leaned in to peer over your shoulder.
“Ooooh, fancy order,” he teased, reading the label. “Almond milk, one pump vanilla, extra cinnamon. That’s very specific.”
You turned, eyebrow raised. “You mocking me?”
“Memorizing it, actually,” he said with a wink. “Next time I see you, I’m bringing it without even asking.”
You giggled, biting your lip as you tucked the cup closer to your chest. “Next time?”
“Well, yeah,” Lando said, walking with you toward the exit, casually ignoring the espresso he just paid for. “Now that fate’s done its job, it’d be rude not to follow up.”
You stepped outside together, and there they were—your friends, standing just a few feet down the sidewalk, talking and laughing and waiting.
You paused, turning to him.
“I should—”
“I know,” he said gently. “But before you go . . .”
He pulled out his phone, lifting his brow like a question. You smiled and handed over yours, your fingers brushing his in that soft, electric way. Numbers exchanged. Names saved.
He handed your phone back, his thumb lingering just a second too long on the edge of your case. “Text me when you’re free,” he said. “Even if it’s just for coffee.”
“Even if it’s just cinnamon?” you teased.
“Especially if it’s cinnamon,” he replied, shooting you a boyish grin.
And with that, you turned to your friends, coffee in hand, cheeks still warm.
Lando watched you go, that charming smirk tugging at his lips as he whispered to himself,
Definitely fate.
The thing about falling for you was that it never felt like falling. No vertigo. No fear. No spiraling. Just that slow, golden drift like sunlight through car windows in late afternoon, warm and familiar, like he’d known you in a past life or two.
You and Lando had slipped into a rhythm without even realizing it. Coffee runs. Late-night drives. Dinner where his foot kept brushing against yours under the table and neither of you said anything, just smiled into your drinks.
He loved how expressive you were. How you laughed with your whole face. How you tilted your head when listening, how your eyes flicked between his and his mouth like they were both poems you were trying to memorize.
He thought you were just focused. Thought you liked eye contact. Thought you liked him (you do).
But somehow, he still hadn’t realised. Not until Max Fewtrell happened.
It was a casual sort of hangout, thrown together in a flurry of group chat messages and location drops. Max had just flown in and insisted on catching up. You had come along without hesitation, tucked close to Lando’s side, smiling as you belonged there, because by now, you did.
The conversation was light, fast, overlapping like crashing waves. Max was loud as ever, gesturing wildly, cracking jokes at Lando’s expense, and you laughed along even when you couldn’t catch every word. You leaned into Lando now and then, eyes flicking to his lips, catching pieces. Max noticed.
Lando had offered to grab pastries for the table, sliding out of the booth with a wink and a promise: “Don’t let Max corrupt you while I’m gone.”
You and Max were left behind with warm drinks and the soft murmur of indie music drifting through the café. The sun slipped lazily through the windows, painting soft gold onto mugs and faces.
Max took a sip of his tea, then looked over at you with that same easy charm you’d already seen him use on Lando half a dozen times. Only this time, it was softer. Gentler. Curious.
“Hey,” he said, leaning forward a little. “I’m not great, but . . . I know a bit of sign. Not much. Just British Sign Language.”
You blinked, surprised, but your smile lit up like a spark catching kindling.
He fumbled a bit, hands moving clumsily through ‘name’ and ‘you’, raising his brows in that unmistakable question. “That’s . . . I know that, and ok, thank you and sorry.” Max lists what he knows, signing as he says them.
You giggled, delighted. Your fingers moved easily, confidently, signing your name with practiced grace and saying it aloud too.
Max’s grin was small but real. “Nice,” he said. “I’m Max. Lando already told you, I think.” He tried to sign it back—slower this time, a little off, but clearly making the effort. “You read lips too?”
You nodded, still smiling. He nodded back, clearly digging through some dusty corner of his memory for more signs. It was sweet and very thoughtful. And you could see why Lando kept him around.
A moment later, Lando returned, juggling two small plates and a smug grin.
“Okay, okay, I got you the one with the caramel centre,” he said proudly, setting the plate in front of you. “I remembered you said you liked it best last time.”
He paused, brow twitching as he glanced between the two of you—your smile still lingering, Max’s expression warm and a bit amused.
Max leaned back, still sipping his tea. “That’s so cool, though. I never would’ve known, well, until now.”
Lando blinked. “Until now what?”
Max looked at him, then at you. “What do you mean?”
“You said ‘until now,’” Lando repeated, sliding into the booth beside you. “Until now what?”
Max squinted. “Sign language.”
Lando tilted his head. “Why?”
Max stared. Then blinked once. Twice.
“. . . Because she’s deaf?” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Lando froze, croissant halfway to his mouth.
“Wait. What?”
Max just stared at him. Then slowly leaned back in his seat, deadpan. “Are you serious?”
You took a calm sip of your drink, eyes twinkling like you were watching your favourite sitcom unfold in real-time.
Lando turned to you, visibly running a rapid mental montage: the preferred corner seating. The constant eye contact. The way you always needed him to face you when he spoke.
“Oh my god,” he whispered. “I’m an idiot.”
Max slapped a hand over his forehead. “You absolute muppet.”
Lando groaned, pressing both palms to his face. “You’re telling me I’ve been flirting with the most amazing girl for weeks and didn’t even realize—”
“That she’s been reading your lips the whole time?” Max finished, grinning now. “Yeah. It’s honestly impressive. In a tragic kind of way.”
You reached out and tapped Lando’s arm gently. He peeked through his fingers, sheepish, ears pink.
“I wasn’t hiding it,” you say, your smile a little teasing, a little reassuring.
“I know,” he said, voice lower now. Softer. “I just . . . didn’t see.”
You do now, you signed back.
And Lando’s face cracked into that signature grin—dimpled, sweet, slightly flustered but completely enamoured.
“Alright,” he said, “time to learn some French Sign Language then. I’m not staying the muppet in this relationship.”
Max coughed. “Too late.”
Lando flipped him off without even looking.
After that café day, something shifted in Lando.
It wasn’t guilt. You hadn’t made him feel bad for not knowing. It wasn’t obligation either, you’d never asked him to change a thing.
It was just you. You, with your expressive eyes and hands that danced like they were born to speak. You, who laughed without sound but made the whole room feel warmer. You, who made him want to lean in closer. He wanted to understand everything.
And so, Lando started to learn.
First came the French. That part, he could get away with. “Just trying to impress your friends,” he’d joke whenever you caught him practicing over FaceTime, flipping through learning apps with dramatic flair. You’d laugh and shake your head, telling him his accent was horrible—which only made him more determined.
But secretly, quietly, behind the scenes of your blooming romance, he was learning something more.
French Sign Language.
He practiced late at night, earbuds in, mouthing the French alongside his signs as he repeated gestures over and over. Some nights, he’d record himself, watching back the videos with a critical eye, hands moving just slightly too slow, too stiff. He’d rewind. Start again.
He scribbled notes on scrap paper. Left sticky notes around his flat with signs for beach, smile, you look beautiful today.
Max caught him once, mid-practice, half-signing I missed you to a mirror.
“You are so whipped,” Max said, deadpan.
“Shut up,” Lando mumbled, cheeks red. “It’s for her.”
Max just grinned. “You’re still whipped.”
But Lando didn’t care. He just kept learning.
And then, one day, weeks later, sun spilling across the Riviera, he asked if you wanted to go to the beach.
It was the golden kind of afternoon, one that felt like it had been written just for the two of you. The waves hummed lazily against the sand, your sandals dangling from your fingers as you walked side by side, wind tousling your hair and Lando’s hoodie sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The sun was low and orange; it wasn’t hitting your eye, and the breeze was calm.
He kept glancing at you, like he was holding something behind his teeth. You noticed the twitch in his smile, the flicker of nerves beneath his dimple.
“Why do you look like you’re about to jump out of a plane?” you teased.
Lando stopped walking. Turned to face you.
Then he took a breath, and slowly, carefully, signed:
I wanted to try something.
You blinked.
His hands moved again, a little awkward, a little shaky, but clear.
I’ve been learning French Sign Language.
You stared. Mouth parted slightly. Breath caught somewhere just beneath your ribs.
Lando smiled, cheeks pink. “Surprise?”
And then—he signed again.
I wanted to talk to you the way you talk. The way your world speaks.
Silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t empty. It was full—of meaning, of joy, of the way your hands suddenly flew to your mouth in stunned delight.
You threw your arms around him, burying your face in his hoodie. He laughed into your hair, holding you tight, the both of you swaying like waves on the sand.
When you pulled back, your asked quick and exited. “When did you learn?”
Since that day at the café, he signed. You were right there the whole time, and I haven’t been listening. So I wanted to learn how to.
You signed slowly, pressing each word into the space between you. Thank you. This means everything.
Lando’s smile was soft, his eyes a little glassy. He reached up, brushing your hair back with a reverence that made your chest ache.
You mean everything, he signed back.
And on that beach, with the sea whispering your names and the sun painting halos on your skin, you kissed him, your fingers curled in his curls, love sitting unspoken on your tongue, but echoing loud and clear in every sign you shared.
Summary: you and Joe spend the night dancing to Jazz music in your NY apartment.
Warnings: none, slight allusions to sex if you squint.
Genre: fluff, tooth rooting fluff.
The New York life was buzzing outside the ceiling-to-floor glass windows, the fascinating rhythm of the city never ceasing; however, it seemed that it couldn't reach you and Joe inside your apartment. The soft saxophone notes created a bubble, shielding you from it. Joe's fingers traced your back over your nightdress softly, just like the music flowing through the apartment. You were both slowly swaying to the sound of Sinatra.
With one arm around his neck, your other hand rested in his as he twirled you both smoothly, thanks to the glide of your socked feet on the wooden floor. You were now facing the huge window, looking at the view.
"It had to be you, wonderful you," Joe sang in a hushed tone in your ear, his breath tickling your neck and sending a rush through your back. He could sense your smile against his neck, which immediately brought one to his face.
"I love this," you whispered.
"Yeah?" You could imagine his crooked brow waiting for you to go on. That was one of the many things you loved about Joe: he loved to listen to you. No matter what you were talking about, he loved hearing your voice.
"Yeah, I love this, us ... our space," you whispered.
His hand still tracing your back so gently it almost lulled you to sleep. He hummed in agreement, his head turning slightly as his nose dug into your hair, chasing the scent of your shampoo. He could sense you relaxing even more.
"Baby, don't fall asleep on me—you promised we would dance together," he whispered, kissing your temple.
"I can't help it, you're doing everything that's making me sleepy," you chuckled, resting your cheek on his shoulder.
Joe lowered his head to come eye to eye with you, squinting playfully—a clear message: you promised. You smiled, your cheeks reddening a bit.
"I am not falling asleep, I promise. You just... make me feel at peace."
His features softened from playful to adoring. He rested his forehead against yours, planting a kiss on your nose, then your cheek, then the corner of your lips, finally landing on your lips—pecking them once, twice, thrice—making you giggle.
You placed both arms around his neck. He felt you relaxing even more against him, which made him smile to himself. He felt a quiet triumph when you felt that way around him.
With one hand still on your back, the other circled your waist, squeezing you against him.
"Can we have more days like these, please?" you asked, leaning back slightly to look up at him. His hair was tousled because of your curious fingers, his cheeks flushed—you didn’t know whether it was from the heat of the fireplace or the moment. His eyes mapped your face as you spoke, one of his hands leaving your back to push a strand of hair behind your ear.
"I certainly don't mind at all. Wish every day could be like that, sweetheart," he answered in a hushed tone, leaning his forehead against yours, both hands now cupping your neck, his right thumb tracing it back and forth, his nose nudging yours.
"Yeah, but knowing our schedules, we can't do that every day," you pouted.
He smiled. "Well... if you think about it, it's not that bad," he whispered, his lips moving against your forehead.
"It's not?"
He shook his head. "Makes us appreciate moments like these even more," he replied.
"Yeah..." Your voice drifted, your expression showing you were contemplating his answer.
He smiled, pulling you back into him. You sighed, relaxing into him again. You both kept swaying to the music, your warm hands wandering under his shirt, making him giddy inside. Physical touch is his weakness—whether receiving or giving. It always made him feel ... things. The effect you had on him was incomprehensible.
He looked at you, eyes hooded. "Stop teasing," he whispered.
"I am not, I promise. Just wanna feel you," you whispered against his lips, planting a few kisses on them just like he had done moments ago.
You both loved this—loved that your relationship wasn’t based on lust. Of course, you had your playful moments, but the fact that you could love each other in so many other ways felt so fulfilling.
He planted a kiss on the side of your forehead, the music still swaying you both into serenity.
"I love you," you whispered, your breath fanning against his cheek.
"I love you, too," he replied, squeezing you into him even more before planting a gentle kiss on your shoulder.
The song ended, but you both kept going—kept dancing, enjoying the moment to its fullest. Joe only stopped when he felt you falling asleep.
"Should we go to bed?" he asked softly, not wanting to disturb you.
"Don't wanna," you whined, clinging to him even tighter.
He smiled, warmth seeping through his body. "Yeah, but we have to. You're really sleepy."
Your heart skipped a beat—something about the way he took care of you, the way he babied you, made your mind go still. It made you feel so many beautiful things you couldn’t put into words.
"Nooo..." you dragged out, hiding your face in his neck even more.
He smiled. "Come on, baby."
He picked you up bridal-style. The nightdress you were wearing stopped at your knees, allowing him to feel your soft skin at the back of them. You whined in protest, but he wasn’t having any of it—you needed to rest.
He gently laid you down in your bed and got in behind you to spoon you. He began to sing again, just as he had earlier. Soft words made their way into your ears.
"It had to be you, wonderful you... it had to be you."
You smiled and turned into his arms, preferring to face him, nuzzling your face into his neck. The sound of his voice and the movement of his hand on your back lulled you into a peaceful sleep.
Summary: You plan the perfect date for you and Joe
Warning(s): none, not that I know of.
The wind was gentle. It lightly stroked Joe's hair while carrying the smell of the sea waves that were lazily dancing by the shore. Joe had his eyes closed, chest expanding with fresh clean air. He let out a long breath, letting go of all his worries for a moment. He could sense the salty water slipping from between his toes as his feet dug deeper into the golden sand.
The water was slightly cold, definitely not the type of weather that you'd enjoy swimming in. That's why you and Joe refrained from taking a swim in the sea at that time of the year. You didn't want to take any chances of getting sick when you both had work to do with little time to spare.
Speaking of which, Joe slowly opened his eyes against the lazy sun. Vision a little blurry, but he could make out the view, a clear blue sky with white clouds scattered around, which you both would probably try to figure out their shapes later when you lie down. If you squint a little, you can make out the outline of a few mountains in the distance, barely noticeable. Something like that would go unnoticed but not by you. He turned slightly to look for you from his spot. You were still crouching down, looking for seashells. Part of the date program for the day was seashell hunting, which only made sense since your date is on the beach. He smiled lightly at your child-like behaviour, recalling how this was a very important activity that you and your dad used to do when you were little. You still did ... when your dad had the time; it's just that you now wanted to pass it on to the people you loved the most. His heart almost skipped a beat when he realised that you wanted to include him in that ritual. Something so dear to you that you usually don't get the time to do because ... well, because life tends to get in the way. You're not a kid anymore. You have a life, a responsibility, a job, life is not as it used to be you'd tell him.
"I've always wanted to live by the beach. If I could pick a place to live for the rest of my life, it would definitely be the beach." A few moments of silence followed one night when you were lying in his arms." I always thought maybe I could find a remote job and move into our beach house for the rest of my life... but I guess I'll put that on hold for now." You sighed. It was a melancholic sigh, Joe could tell, your eyes were distant, probably revisiting those memories spent by the beach during your childhood.
"Did you wash the seashells, or are you busy staring at me?" Joe shook his head and opened his fist to see the tiny seashells you had asked him to wash, still sandy, their true beauty still hidden under the golden grains, waiting to be washed. "On it," he said, leaning down by the water to clean them, making sure to add a light pressure in order not to escape from his fist, but also minding how fragile they are so as not to break them. The tips of his jeans, even though folded, are still slightly wet from the playful waves.
He stood again and made his way over to you. Red bucked by your side, a blue Boston Red Sox cap is shielding your pretty face from the sun. He got you this cap so that you both would be matching. "There you go, ma'am," he chuckled, handing you the seashells. You peeked into his hand to take a look at their condition. He smiled, trying to figure out what you looked like when you were little, judging by the baby photos your mum had shown him. Did you have the same curious look on your little features, or did life manage to dim this curiosity? He crouched by your side so you could take a better look.
"They're so pretty," you said. You couldn't believe how something so tiny could hold so much beauty. It always blew your mind. "Yeah, just like you," Joe said softly before planting a kiss on your cheek. You rolled your eyes. "Please, stop being so cheesy." You laughed, trying to brush off his comment; however, your cheeks betrayed you with their rosy colour.
"But it's the truth," he said, brushing a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled and tried to look anywhere else but his pretty eyes. "Aren't you hungry?" You asked, changing the topic. He hummed in thought, his face digging in the side of yours, cool nose brushing your warm cheek, "I am. What have you got on our program next?"
"I can't tell you silly, remember everything is a surprise." You said, getting up and pulling him with you, "wash your hands while I get everything ready," You pecked his lips before taking the bucket from his hand and heading for the car. He sighed lovingly, in his opinion this day could not get any better. You woke up early, had a very light breakfast, and hit the road to the beach house. You were visiting your family back in your hometown, and you had asked for their permission to visit the beach house that they own. It was in a quiet village, kind of like a resort, but because it's winter now people didn't usually visit their beach houses in that area, only a few elderly people did, Joe was thankful that even if they stopped to greet you, no one would recognise him here. It was a really calm place. He now knew why you loved it dearly.
Joe was deep in his thoughts, your struggle to hold something twice your size shook him out of his daze.
"Whoa, whoa, careful there." He ran over to you, helping you carry it to the shore. "Babe, what the hell? What is this?" He asked, laughing at your struggle. "What do you think this is genius?" He rolled his eyes at your sass. "I think it's a big inflatable pool." He replied. "No shit, Sherlock. Now, can you come help me with the rest of the stuff?" You said, trying to steady your breathing again after wrestling with this thing. Joe tried so hard not to laugh at your struggle and made his way over to your car.
It took about twenty minutes to set everything up. You have put a few sheets, a throw blanket, a couple of pillows, and lit up a few candles after digging them into the sand. "Oh, one more thing," you said as you got up and ran towards the cafeteria. Joe looked around in bewilderment. How on earth did you manage to prepare all of this, he thought. You got back with a few boxes that looked like pizza boxes. You handed Joe the boxes and got into the makeshift pool/bed, and waved to him to hand you the boxes. Joe was still speechless when he got in himself. He looked at the boxes and then realised something, "Isn't that restaurant only available back in town?" He was confused. "Yeah, I asked them to deliver the pizza this morning before we hit the road, and I kept it in the car until it was time to eat, and I asked the guys at the cafeteria to heat it for us since they have a pizza oven," you said opening up the boxes and giving a slice to Joe.
He remembered how you took him to that pizza spot near your old school. It was one of the most delicious pizzas he has ever tried, you explained how the place was kinda new and did not have many branches all over the country, yet, and how you want them to open in the village near the beach house so you could order from them each time you visited the beach. Joe took a look around and thought about all the effort you put in. He thought you guys were spending the day by the beach, maybe going back to the chalet to make a quick meal, and walk some more on the beach, but this! Lying by the beach in an inflatable pool that was somehow turned into a big cosy bed, eating pizza, surrounded by candles while a collection of your favourite music played in the background through your wireless speaker as the sun set, slowly turning the sky into an array of orange, pink and purple shades. Joe looked at you as you took place by his side, leaning your head on his shoulder as you began to eat your slice.
He sighed as if feeling complete for the very first time in his entire life. Life looked perfect at the moment. How could he be so lucky to have you? "Thank you," he said, leaning back as he could feel his body letting go of all the stress that was pent up in his muscles." What for?" You asked suddenly as if realising just now that he was talking to you, mouth partially full of delicious pizza. He chuckled, pulling you closer, "for all of this, of course." He took a bite of his slice and then looked down at you.
"This is the best date I've ever had in my entire life," he whispered, left hand engulfing you into his side even more. Warmth seeping through both of you, "it is?" You asked, looking up at him. Brown warm eyes stared back into yours; if his eyes could speak, they would be reciting love poems by now. You blushed under the intensity of his gaze. "I have always had this idea for the perfect date," you paused, avoiding his intense eyes, "I just never had someone special enough to share it with,"
Joe's eyes softened, then widened in realisation. He was the only special person whom you would allow yourself to share that part with. The beach house, the memories, the seashell collection, eating your favourite food at the place closest to your heart. There was no one else. Only him, he was the only man allowed to see that part of you. The real you, the version that loved deeply, the version that enjoyed the little things life could offer amidst the chaos, the emotional version that could not put all of this into words, but simply took him by the hand and offered him a glimpse. A glimpse of what life could feel like. A glimpse into calmness and peace.
Joe kissed you. He kissed you so deeply that you forgot how to breathe for a second. He cupped your face to deepen the kiss. Each time you tried to take a breath, his lips would chase yours, hungry for more. You fisted his shirt, trying to break the kiss, "Pizza is gonna get cold," he laughed, lightly resting his forehead against yours. He pecked your lips one more time, "I love you." He whispered against your lips. "I love you, too." You whispered back.
The rest of the sunset was spent lazily staring at the sky, enjoying the sound of the waves brushing the shore. You even got a book that you and Joe were reading; you both would take turns reading for each other. All this, and you never once tried to get up, both of you enjoying each other's company far too much to ruin it by getting up.
To this day, Joe would look at you and remember one of the best days in his entire life. A date that was so simple, yet held so much meaning to both of you, it was one of those days that he could never forget. How could he when you even took the time to choose a shell, "the most beautiful of them all," you said, to make it into a pendant that he now wears all the time.
he’s never been much of a reader but he’s never been much in love, either.
pairing: lando norris x fem!reader
faceclaim: pinterest girlies
warning: use of y/n, fluff. also this is just for fun and obviously fiction, i'm not trying to reflect any person in real life ‹3
a/n: wrote this right after the belgian gp and the fluff was absolutely necessary. also couldn’t resist sneaking in a few of my real book recs hehe. really happy with how this one turned out! likes, reblogs & any feedback mean the world ♡
yourusername
liked by lando, lilymhe and 275.985 others
yourusername i’ve been reviewing books for awhile now and it's safe to say that ppl who’ve met me for more than 5 minutes know how much i love reading🤍
this isn’t a big dramatic launch or anything but if you’ve been asking for recs or just need a new read, i’ll be sharing more here now!
i’m scared. be nice pls xx
view all comments
username1 i’ve been WAITINGGG for this i love ur reviews on tiktok so much
landonorris nerd
⤷ yourusername yes 🤓🤓🤓
⤷ username2 lando calling his gf a nerd is so funny
username3 my fav wag is also my fav book influencer we love to see it
carlossainz55 Does this mean less book talk during race weekends?
⤷ yourusername absolutely not carlos sorry
⤷ landonorris she's worse now actually
username4 yayyy finally someone with actual taste is doing book reviews
alexandrasaintmleux love this 🫶🏻 what should i read first?
⤷ yourusername i have a special list for u babe
username5 the way we all collectively bullied her into making it official i feel proud
username6 our book girlie 💌
──── ୨ৎ ────
yourusername
liked by lando, yourbff and 143.738 others
yourusername first rec is here 😌
📖 small things like these by claire keegan
genre: historical fiction
fav quote: “no act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted”
rating: 5/5 ⭐
short but so powerful. this book is set in 1985 ireland and follows bill furlong, a coal merchant who discovers something that forces him to confront his own moral compass.
it's under 120 pages but will stay with you long after you finish it. keegan's writing is beautiful and she manages to say so much with so little. she has this incredible ability to take a seemingly ordinary story and turn it into something touching and quietly devastating.
if you’ve read it, let’s discuss 🤍 full review is up on goodreads
view all comments
lando read this because you forced me and i love you too much to say no. solid 2/5
⤷ yourusername why only 2/5 🤔elaborate pls
⤷ lando bit depressing
⤷ yourusername that's the point
⤷ lando well i don't like it
⤷ username1 LANDO GIVING BOOK REVIEWS NOW???
username2 bestie you need to make a "books to read in one sitting" highlight
username3 y/n: writes thoughtful analysis lando: bit sad. 2 stars
⤷ yourusername he's trying his best 😭
username4 oh this one broke me in half
username5 just finished this yesterday and your review is spot on <3
username6 lando's goodreads era incoming
⤷ lando what even is goodreads
⤷ yourusername oh we have so much work to do
oscarpiastri Lando made me read this too. It was alright
⤷ yourusername what would you rate it
⤷ oscarpiastri 3/5
⤷ yourusername i'm surrounded by men with no taste
⤷ lando rude
username7 lando really said "book sad, me no like" 😭
──── ୨ৎ ────
yourusername updated their story.
❤︎ liked by lando, yourbff and others
──── ୨ৎ ────
lando
liked by yourusername, lnfour and 910.324 others
lando melbourne ya beauty
view all comments
yourusername so proud of you!!
⤷ lando glad you were here to see it 🧡
username1 this was such a well deserved win <333
username2 wait… third slide is the state library? i study there literally every day and you’re telling me LANDO WAS THERE TOO?? 😭
⤷ username3 yess i saw in yn's stories they went before race weekend
⤷ username4 he went to a library for her i'm soft
⤷ username5 the bar is in hell but we love them so much
⤷ username6 my wag influence queen strikes again
maxfewtrell Won a race and visited a library in the same weekend who is this person
username7 library visit before a win? new lucky charm?
⤷ yourusername i'm here for this tradition
username8 y/n's pinterest aesthetic rubbing off on him
──── ୨ৎ ────
yourusername
liked by lando, daisyedgarjones and 253.738 others
yourusername sorry for the delay i just finished this on the flight back from australia and i'm still processing everything (i'm not okay)
📖 normal people by sally rooney
genre: contemporary fiction
fav quote: “i'm not a religious person but i do sometimes think god made you for me”
rating: 3.5/5 ⭐
this book follows marianne and connell from their final year of school at trinity college dublin. it was one of the most frustrating but realistic stories i have read in a long time.
rooney has this way of capturing how two people can love each other completely and still mess everything up repeatedly. she writes and it makes you feel like you're inside their heads.
if you've read this please tell me you also wanted to intervene in their relationship every five minutes. full review on goodreads as always !!
view all comments
lando finished this yesterday. the writing was weird at first but you get used to it. 3/5 stars would've been higher if they just talked like normal people
⤷ yourusername look at you giving more than two words reviews!! proud of you
⤷ yourusername "talked like normal people" i see what you did there
⤷ lando you're a good teacher what can i say
username1 if connell just went to therapy ONE time we could’ve avoided so much
username2 girl i finished it two years ago and i'm still processing
lilymhe the way you read this whole book during race weekend while the rest of us were just trying to survive
daisyedgarjones Loved your review this is such a complex book
⤷ yourusername omg hi daisy!! thank you so much🥹
⤷ username3 DAISY EDGAR JONES IN THE COMMENTS
⤷ username4 the crossover we didn't know we needed
username5 this book made me so angry but i couldn't put it down
username6 lando's goodreads era is coming i can feel it
⤷ yourusername working on convincing him every day
⤷ lando still don't understand the point
⤷ username7 lando just make the account challenge
──── ୨ৎ ────
──── ୨ৎ ────
yourusername posted a new video on their channel.
book haul + my boyfriend picks my next read
Views: 847,293 views Uploaded: 3 days ago Duration: 18:47
hiiiii today i'm showing you all the books i've collected over the past month (my tbr is officially out of control) and then letting lando pick what we read next…
timestamps:
0:00 - intro + rant
2:15 - book haul begins
4:32 - lando crashes the video (as usual)
6:18 - fantasy haul section
9:41 - contemporary fiction finds
12:03 - the "let lando pick" challenge begins
14:27 - his... interesting... selection process
16:45 - the final choice (i'm scared)
17:52 - outro + what's next
books mentioned:
i hope this doesn't find you - ann liang ⭐
the atlas six - olivie blake
book lovers - emily henry
the midnight library - matt haig
circe - madeline miller
the invisible life of addie larue - v.e. schwab
beach read - emily henry
klara and the sun - kazuo ishiguro
the song of achilles - madeline miller
like 6 others i can't fit here lol
thanks for watching! don't forget to subscribe if you haven't already and let me know what you think in the comments 💕
follow me!
instagram: yourusername
goodreads: ynreads
tiktok: yourusername
view all comments
username1 lando asking "do any of these have happy endings" like he's traumatized from normal people
⤷ yourusername he's still recovering from that emotional damage
username2 the way you explain why you're excited about each book makes me want to read EVERYTHING
username3 your content always feels like hanging out with a friend who happens to have immaculate book taste
username4 lando if you're reading this… we need to have a conversation about your book selection criteria
⤷ username5 NOT HIM PICKING BASED ON COVER COLORS
username6 "sooo this will be the book we'll be reading" THEY'RE READING TOGETHER 🥹 the way she said we so casually
username7 her voice is so soothing and she explains everything so well
username8 "i hope this doesn't find you" is such a good choice though!! like lando accidentally picked something that's actually perfect for both of them
username9 yn your apartment is literally my dream aesthetic omg
──── ୨ৎ ────
ln4content
liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell and 57.569 others
ln4content JAPANESE GP MEDIA DAY | Lando was asked about his recent book reviews in Y/N's Instagram comments during today's press conference and his response was actually so sweet. You can tell he misses having her here for this triple header.
I: "Lando, we've noticed you've been quite active in your girlfriend's book review posts lately. Can you tell us about that?"
Lando: "Yeah... she was always trying to get me to read stuff and at first I was like 'absolutely not, I don't have time for that' but then I thought, you know what, I'll give it a go. Turns out I'm enjoying it more than I expected."
I: "How do you find time to read during race weekends, especially with this intense triple header schedule?"
Lando: "It's actually not bad for flights and hotel downtime. Better than just scrolling on my phone for hours doing nothing productive. Y/N gets so excited when I text her updates about what's happening in the book, like when characters do stupid things. She's not here this weekend, so I've been sending her very long voice messages about the book instead of just texting."
I: "Any plans to make your own goodreads account?"
Lando: "For now, I think I'll stick to crashing her comments section. That seems to be working quite well for everyone."
view all comments
username1 his smile when he talks abt her... may this kind of love FIND ME NOW
username2 he's so down bad for her it's embarassing
username3 LANDOYN NATION WE'RE BEING FED
username4 parents are parenting
username5 yn liked this ahhh 🥹🥹🥹
──── ୨ৎ ────
yourusername updated their story.
──── ୨ৎ ────
yourusername
liked by lando, alexandrasaintmleux and 456.847 others
yourusername dear reader... 💌 i hope this finds you well
📖 i hope this doesn't find you by ann liang
genre: contemporary romance
fav quote: “Iʼm not so familiar with vices— I like to think I have none, but if anything were to count, you would be my only one“
rating: 4/5 ⭐
the story is about sadie, the type of perfectionist who channels all of her negative feelings into email drafts that she never sends… until they do get sent.
this made me giggle and fall for the characters so hard. academic rivals to lovers always hits different, especially when they were actually rivals who genuinely couldn't stand each other.
btw i'm completely in love with julius. he really said "i see your worst self and choose to love you anyway" and meant it 💖💗🩷💘💞💝
the only reason this isn't a 5/5 is because i wanted more of his pov and the ending felt slightly rushed but those are minor complaints. full review (+ spoilers) on goodreads!
view all comments
username1 MY FAV BOOK WE CHEERED
lando finished this two days ago like i promised. took me way longer than expected because i kept getting distracted by how much sadie reminded me of you when we first started dating: stubborn, overthinking everything, convinced you weren't good enough (which is ridiculous btw). the way liang builds up their relationship felt very authentic. 4/5 stars
⤷ yourusername who ARE you and what have you done with my boyfriend
⤷ lando i told you i'm getting better at this 🤓
carmenmmundt The way you describe books makes me want to read everything immediately
⤷ yourusername you're gonna love this one
username2 me 🤝 yn 🤝 being in love with julius
lilymhe okay but julius gong is actually perfect like ann really created the ideal boyfriend and now we all have unrealistic expectations
⤷ yourusername the bar is in space now thanks to fictional characters
⤷ lando ??? excuse me
⤷ alex_albon we're literally right here…
⤷ lilymhe and your point is
username3 can't believe you actually turned lando into a romance reader. you really won the long game
annliangwrites this is such a thoughtful review 🥹 i’m so glad you connected with them
⤷ yourusername STOP IT you're here!! thank you for writing them they live in my heart now 💕
⤷ lando great now she's never getting over this book
⤷ annliangwrites as it should be!
username4 LANDO WROTE A WHOLE ESSAY
⤷ username5 the evolution from "bit depressing 3/5" to this... we've come so far
──── ୨ৎ ────
lando updated their close friends story.
❤︎ liked by yourusername and others
──── ୨ৎ ────
yourusername
liked by lando, lilyzneimer and 389.689 others
yourusername this is actually a re-read but it's one of my favorite books of all time so i had to make a proper post about it. you know it's love when you own four different editions and they're all annotated differently depending on what age you read them 💕
📖 pride and prejudice by jane austen
genre: classic romance
fav quote: "I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine"
rating: 5/5 ⭐ (always and forever)
read this at fifteen and thought it was just about a girl who judged people too quickly. at eighteen, i understood it was about growing up and admitting when you're wrong. at twenty, i realized it was about the courage it takes to be vulnerable. now, reading it feels like watching two people learn how to be their best for each other.
this book remains a timeless classic for it’s memorable characters and enduring themes. it’s not just a romance but also a critic of societal norms and expectations. through the journey of characters like lizzie, jane offers lessons about prejudice, self discovery and personal growth. ♡♡
view all comments
lando i understand now why you've read it so many times. darcy’s character development is actually incredible, he goes from arrogant to genuinely trying to be better without losing who he is. elizabeth is brilliant and stubborn (like you). i think that’s what makes them work.
the language was a bit of a challenge. it’s beautiful but sometimes i’d go back and reread chapters to catch what i missed (or ask you for help lol) my favorite quote is "you must allow me to tell you how ardently i admire and love you" because that's one of the most honest ways anyone's ever declared love. 4.5/5 only because the beginning was slow but worth pushing through
⤷ yourusername sooo this review just made me fall in love with you all over again
⤷ username1 my fav driver quoting jane austen was NOT on my 2025 bingo card
⤷ username2 get you a man who quotes mr. darcy for u
username3 the way you just explained the plot across your life stages??? this is why you're my favorite book girlie
username4 lando becoming a proper book reviewer with favorite quotes and everything thanks yn for ur service
⤷ yourusername i've trained him well
⤷ username5 his review being longer than some goodreads reviewers i'm so proud
──── ୨ৎ ────
──── ୨ৎ ────
yourusername
liked by lando, mclaren and 552.058 others
yourusername when i'm not reading i'm supporting my favorite driver in the whooole world :)
view all comments
mclaren We love you 🧡
⤷ lando admin no one said you could love her more than i do
username1 lando can u fight
username2 she’s so gorgeous and smart and beautiful and kind. i’m on my knees
lilyzneimer 🥹🧡
⤷ username3 MY TWO FAV WAGS
⤷ username4 lily and yn supremacy always
username5 if i was lando i’d simply never let her leave my side
lando i love you
⤷ yourusername i love you more
⤷ lando nope. me more
⤷ yourusername 🙄🙄🙄
──── ୨ৎ ────
lando
liked by lando, mclaren and 1.952.058 others
lando when i'm not winning races i'm reading books with my girlfriend :)
view all comments
lando and yes i made a goodreads account
⤷ yourusername nerd
yourusername proud doesn't even begin to cover it
username1 i want a boyfriend like him😭
mclaren We fully support book club Norris
username2 every time he posts something about yn i feel like i’m watching a book come to life
username3 booktok is literally shaking
username4 i need the goodreads link NOW
⤷ lando it’s under construction. reviews loading… slowly
username5 the bar has now been set at “willing to open a goodreads account for you” sorry
Warning(s): Takes place during the car crash at the Vegas GP. Lando is self-critical. Toothrooting fluff, isn't that what you call it? High Lando, don't ask me, but he gave me high vibes in those photos after the crash (hope he's feeling better tho. 🥹) Hints of reader being a foreigner (dunno if this should be put as a warning!)
Author's note: I don't know anything about health care or medical field, so just excuse my lame ass medical justifications. Also some of the comments mentioned in the Smau and the story line are 100% from real life.
"Oooh, yellow flag at turn 14"
"It's a red flag now."
"Is that an accident or .... oh it's an accident.
"Oooh my God. Is that Mclaren?... It's Norris."
"That's lando Norris. Oh my... what an ..."
You heart was beating so loudly in your chest as you kept monitoring the small screens closely waiting for Lando to get out.
Eyes wide, hands covering your mouth to prevent yourself from screaming as you looked at his engineer. "Is he okay?" His engineer was trying to reach him "Lando are you okay?" There was no answer for a few seconds. The cameras of the F1 monitoring your response to the accident closely. Just when you were about to lose it, take off your headset and run to the crash site, lando's mic started working. "I'm fine" you immediately looked back at the screen, not believing him because it showed; it was obvious in his voice that he was not fine, the way he grunted in pain and how his hand was shaking when using the buttons on the wheel of the car, all of it told you that he was not fine.
You were still frowning deeply when they replayed the moment the car was almost on fire and how he was trying his best, very quickly, to control the steering wheel, but in vain. You felt helpless watching as you tried to imagine the gravity of it and how he must be feeling right now.
"Y/n" you looked away from the screen about to ask them where Lando is, so you can go see him. "Y/n, they're going to take lando to the medical centre." You were about to panic even more when his engineer assured you. "It's just for check up, don't worry. They said he's fine. They just want to make sure," you nodded; however, this didn't calm you one bit. What if they checked and turns out there's actually something to worry about?
You grabbed your jacket and bag and headed to the hospital right away. His coach, Jon, went with you to the hospital. You were anxiously waiting in a room until they rolled lando on a bed into the room,with machines and wires attached to his upper body.
"Hey baby" he dragged the last syllable, which made you look at him funny then turn to the doctor. "Ugh, he's on some medications to get him relaxed,he was shaken up from the whole thing." You looked back at poor Lando to find him nodding in agreement with the doctor. "Okay, then I'll leave you to it, he shouldn't be staying for long anyways. We will keep him for like an hour maximum to make sure there are no side effects after the accident."
"Why does he look ... loopy?" You gently hit Jon's shoulder who chuckled lightly at your cute way of reprimanding him. You shook your head as you sat next to Lando. "Are you okay, baby?" He nodded looking up at you like a baby that needs attention. You chuckled at his behaviour he was definitely acting loopy.
"Does anywhere hurt?" You inquired trying to get him to talk. He nodded. Your face fell for a second, worried that the doctor might have missed something when checking on Lando. "Where?" You scanned the rest of his body quickly before looking back at him for an answer. "Here" he said pointing at his heart. You frowned in a are-you-serious-mannar that got Jon erupting in laughter at Lando's lack of awareness due to the meds. "Shut up!" You said shaking your head as you looked back at lando who was all pouty, yet had this look in eyes that was expecting something from you.
"No, lando. I am being serious." You held his hand while the other played with his hair which got his eyes fluttering a bit. "Is there anything that's hurting you?" You leaned into him whispering. He huffed in annoyance. "YES, yes there is. Your lack of affection is hurting me woman. Just give me a kiss and I'll feel better." You were surprised with his behaviour, what kind of meds did the doctor put him on?
Again you heard Jon try his best to supress a laugh, but you ignored him this time, rolling your eyes. You were really worried, usually when things like that happened during a race, Lando doesn't take it easy on himself and he jumps right away at any opportunity to criticise his performance;however, you were thankful that the meds have eased his nerves a bit for him to actually think about what happened. "Am I going to keep on waiting for too long?" The bratty side was starting to show which made you laugh.
"What are you laughing about?" He asked in amusement totally unaware of the presence of his coach in the room as well. "Nothing,... you're just ... I don't know. You're acting like a baby." You answered between fits of laughter. "Yeah, but I am your baby right?" His tone completely changed from sassy to worried which made you look at him in awe. You couldn't deny him any longer, honestly who would? You leaned into him slowly only to see him close his eyes really fast preparing for your kiss. This made you find difficulty in holding your laughter back, but lando has had enough so he pulled you in for a kiss that literally almost took your breath away. His hand was warm over your cheek. He let go and removed his hand from your cheek and leaned on his back to rest, leaving you speechless. "Wasn't that hard was it?" His sassy side was back.
You blushed while laughing, which in return made lando beam at you in happiness. You rested your head on his shoulder, "I was so worried about you." You said. "I know, but I am fine now" he said planting a kiss on the crown of your forehead. You tried to shake away any thoughts of a more aware lando that you will definitely have to deal with later as you lost yourself to sleep.
True to his words, the doctor returned back with the news of releasing Lando from the hospital. You were helping lando put on some clothes since he hadn't changed out of his race suit, yet. He was pulling his grey hoodie over his head when he winced, "What's wrong?" You asked, concern evident in your voice. "Nothing just remembered I have to comment on the crash." It was evident from his tone that he was starting to sober up from the meds. You dreaded what he was going to go through. "Lan, please take it easy on yourself,hm?" You said patting his cheek before giving him a gentle kiss on his cheek. He nodded with sleep glossing over his eyes, he must be really tired; he also didn't get to rest well because of the jet lag.
"Lando, lando, lando"
There were some reporters waiting outside of the medical centre for lando as you both exited along with Jon and the security team.
"Lando what do you think of today's incident?" One of them asked putting the mic as close to Lando as possible.
"An unfortunate end to our Las Vegas GP weekend," he said. "I just bottomed out on the restart, lost the rear and hit the wall. Not the way we wanted the weekend to end, especially considering the pace looked promising on Oscar’s side."
Jon queued that it was time to leave, so lando gave them a final word before heading off.
"Big thanks go to the medical staff for checking me over, and to the team for the work they’ll now put in on the car. One week to reset and go again for the season finale in Abu Dhabi.”
"Of course, thank you for you time Lando. Hope you feel better, mate." Lando nodded as he got escorted away and into the car with you. He rested his head into your lap the moment he got into the car.Your hand immediately took place between his soft curls. Lando hummed quietly dozing off to sleep since he was super tired.He had to be woken up again when you both arrived at the Hilton. He refused to let you go, even during the lift ride, almost most of his weight was on you as he leaned into you. You reached your room quickly, and helped him into the bathroom. "Lando, baby please wash up first while I get you something to eat yeah," you gently requested of him before you let him go. He wanted to protest, but you were not hearing any of it; not only was he jet lagged but he hadn't had any proper meal today.
It seemed that Lando opted for a quick shower since you heard it running as you changed out of your clothes. He finished by the time the food arrived to your room. You both ate in bed under the covers, the t.v on for background noise, none of you paying attention to it. You tried to talk with him, not wanting to leave him to his harsh and self critical thoughts. "feeling better,baby?" Lando nodded quietly munching on his fries as your fingers coiled his curls in place. You didn't miss the way a small smile made its way on his lips, he loved it when you played with his hair. It just made him weak.
"I am sorry you couldn't be proud of me tonight. You didn't even get to enjoy the race." You frowned at his words that he said after a few seconds of silence. "Lando," you placed your plate aside and turned to him fully so you can face him. "You know that you always make me proud. Always. No matter what the result is." You looked into his eyes to show him how sincere you were. "Lando, even if you weren't an F1 driver, I'd still be proud of you no matter what." You tried to comfort him. He didn't deserve it. What happened wasn't even his fault, and Andrea mentioned this to the media, as well. "All I could think about when that accident happened was your safety." You almost teared up thinking back to how he must have felt in that moment and the panic that showed through his hand and head movement, how he must have been taken aback by it all. "Baby, don't cry now," he said, putting his plate aside as well. "No, Lando, don't. Because it really tears me up inside how you can be so judgemental towards yourself," you said, gently moving his hand away from your face that was trying to wipe away your tears. "Baby, you're amazing, and I am sure that one day you'll be as amazing as all the drivers you have ever looked up to and even more. I just know it. Just please don't do this to yourself. It's always a team effort, not just one person, and I know that you always give it your all, so just please don't be so harsh on yourself because you don't deserve it." Lando nodded as he came closer to give you a hug. "I am sorry, I didn't know I was being such an ass." He said. "You're not being an ass to me. You're being an ass to yourself, and I really hate it when you do that." You sniffed, hugging him back and hiding your face in his neck. Warm breath teasing his neck, which made him giggle a bit, made your heart flutter. "Ah, how did I get so lucky," he said under his breath, but you heard him. "I love you so much." You said, looking up into his pretty eyes. "I love you too, baby." He said before kissing you.
"Now, eat." You said gesturing with your head towards his plate. "Nah, I wanna cuddle instead."
"Lando, eat first and then we can cuddle."
"Ugh, fine. So bossy," he muttered.
"Ugh, so sassy." You copied him as he gave you a side eye.
You both erupted in laughter. "Love you," he said focusing back on his food.
"Love you to the moon and back," you said
"Love you more,"
"No, I love you more,"
"No, I love you even mo-" he was not giving up, but you had to make sure he was well fed. "Lando, finish your food, or I swear to God..."
"Fine, fine woman jeez... why can't you just reciprocate my love," he mumbled again.
"Landooo,"
"I am eating, I am eating, see," he said with a mouth full of fries. You laughed and shook your head. How did you even end up with this dork, you thought.
________________________
Instagram
LandoNorris
Liked by Your Username and 1,950,465 others.
Rough day. Big impact. But feeling okay! Thanks for all of the messages ❤️ See you next weekend
Comments:
Mclaren: 🧡🧡🧡
Zedd: Glad you're alright brother!❤️
Charles_leclerc: Feel better mate!
Maxverstappen1: why do you look like you're high?
↬Your Username: that's because he was indeed high 🥴
↬Landonorris: I was not 😳😳😳
↬Your Username: yes, you were. I have proof. Jon has a video of you.
↬FanUserName1: I wanna see it sooo bad.
↬FanUserName2: me too.
↬Danielricciardo: me three. 👀
↬Landonorris: Fuck off, Daniel.
Y/UserName
Liked by landonorris and 1,783,631 others.
He's feeling better and that's all that matters. Always proud of you, love.💋
Comments:
Carlossainz55: yeah, right feel better, love 💋🙄
↬Your Username: Carlos, I swear to God, i will not tolerate the attitude just because you're Latino.👊🏼
↬Carlossainz55: oh no I am so scared. 🙄
↬Your Username: @iamrebeccad come get your boyfriend.
↬iamrebeccad: Carlos, I've had enough. Honestly stop it. I have to run around in the comments to stop this nonsense more than I run around from one city to the other for your races.🤦🏻♀️
FanUserName1: oh my God, Rebecca dragging Carlos through the comments.😂😂😂
adam_norris_pure_electric: ❤️
*your username and Landonorris reacted to this comment *
FanUserName2: take care of him please.🥹🙏🏼
FanUserName3: We love you landinho, get well soon 🇧🇷 💛💚💛💚
OscarPiastri: Feel better, Lando🥹
↬Your Username: dw, I am taking good care of him.😁
↬LandoNorris: yeah, she's keeping me well fed.
↬FanUserName4: I knew it!! y/n's type of love is acts of service. Imagine her feeding lando and how she would act if he said that he's full.
↬FanUserName5: I don't wanna know tbh. The paps got a photo of her this one time when he refused taking any more food when they were out on a date,and she looked like she was one minute away from smashing the plate over his head.
↬Your UserName: in my defense he was not eating well, and I couldn't leave him like that without food.🤷♀️
↬LandoNorris: WITHOUT FOOD?!!😳😳😳 Babe you made me eat my whole plate and half of yours, i wouldn't count that as no food.
↬Your UserName: Sweetheart, back in my country this counts as a little girl's appetite.
↬Danielricciardo: hahaha she just roasted you on national t.v.🤣🤣🤣
↬LandoNorris: @Heidierger_ come get your bf. 😑
↬FanUserName6: What's with athletes having their gfs come collect them from this comment section ?! 😂😂😂😂
Mclaren: Take a deserved rest. We still have Abu Dhabi coming up. 🧡💪🏼
Warning(s): rude interviewer, mentions of insecurities, very mild smut.
Contains a short smau at the end.
Daniel never gave much thought to how he looked in general, not the physical aspect at least. Style wise, yeah, of course, as a world-famous athlete, he has to take care of how he looks, but that's mostly up to his stylist, especially during important events; such as this one.
Daniel was currently attending one of the most famous awards shows in the entire world, the Oscars, with you, his girlfriend. And never had he thought that someone, particularly an interviewer, would be questioning you about his looks, his physical look, specifically his nose.
"I am sorry, what?" You questioned with a frown on your face. "I just wanted to know what you think of Daniel's nose? Isn't it ... ugh I'd say too big? Has he thought about plastic surgery before?"
You continue to look at the interviewer in disbelief as you try to remain professional. Your facial expressions are not really your best friend. It has betrayed you many times on numerous occasions.
Throughout your entire career, you have learnt that interviewers like these with questions like that are trying to do two things: either provoke you to try and give something to the audience, which is most likely the aim of this question, or they just take the liberty of seeing you as a close friend who they can nag for information about your life. However, even your closest of friends never asked a question like this.
So, as a professional actress and a very loving girlfriend, you played out this situation in a smart way... by truly telling the interviewer how you felt about Danny's nose.
"Oh," you took your time to look at the interviewer before turning to Daniel, who you felt started to withdraw his grip over your waist. Daniel saw nothing in your eyes except love. Your brows were raised in concern and your lips pouty. "Baby, what's wrong with your nose?" You faked concern as you put both of your hands on each side of his face as if inspecting it. Danny chuckled at your adorable act. You asked him in a voice that he heard all the time when you were playing with his nephew. His eyes only focused on you, still holding his face between the palms of your hands, you turned to look at the interviewer with a funny look, as if the man was seeing things.
"I see nothing wrong with him," you almost whispered, turning to look back at Daniel as you stood on your toes to reach him. Daniel thought that you would give him a peck on the lips. Instead, you went for his nose and gave it a gentle kiss. He stood there in awe, looking like a love sick puppy that was wagging its tail happily while looking at the owner of his heart.
"He looks perfect to me. Actually, his nose looks like the Greek status that we see in museums," you said looking back at the interviewer who now grew annoyed by the fact that he couldn't get a reaction out of you or Daniel. "In fact, I think you're jealous because you wish you had a nose like his," you stated as a matter of fact.
The interviewer growing more uncomfortable by the second tried to end the conversation, seeing that you saw through him and did not give him what he wanted.
Daniel, on the other hand, couldn't keep his hand off you all night wanting nothing than to keep you in his arms, loving you, away from any preying eyes. It did not help after you had won the best actress award for your recent film, making him feel like he had won the world championship again.
That night, you straddled Daniel's naked waist wearing nothing but your undergarments and the chemise he had for the Oscars. Both of you, hair looked wild after all the love making you spent doing, feeling so proud of each other. You were staring at his face while your hand was tracing his cheeks softly. "You didn't have to answer that guy tonight, you know." Daniel said, feeling that it was not worth your effort to speak to someone like him. Your hands halted their soft tracing as you looked at him, listening to what he has to say on this. "I've dealt with interviewers like him before. He was not worth your time," Daniel said as his lips kissed your palm that rested on his cheek, eyes refusing to look at yours.
"Hey, look at me," you gently kept his head in its place, preventing him from moving it anywhere. Daniel raised his eyes to meet yours as your fingers continued to trace his cheek again. "I meant every word of what I said that night." Your fixed look on his eyes reflected nothing but sincerity. "Danny, if I could spend the rest of my life listing what I love about you, I'd do it, and it would never be enough," your eyes glistening as you recalled all times that you felt unworthy of his love, and because you didn't want the comment of a stupid ass interviewer to make him feel what you felt at your moments of insecurity. Daniel deserved to be loved for everything that he is. He will always own your heart in a way that no one has ever, or will ever do.
"Baby, what are you tearing up for now?" Daniel hated himself for ruining the mood. He wiped your tears as he took you in his arms. "It's just... I- I love you so much, and I would hate for you to be brought down by someone like that asshole," you sniffed as you hugged Daniel tightly. Daniel sighed as he hugged you back, putting his chin on top of your head.
"And I wanted everyone to know and for you to know that no matter what, you're pretty in my eyes,"
"even if you're turned into a jar of pickles, I would still love you the same," Daniel stiffled a laugh as he moved his head to try and get a look of your face that he's sure is all pouty.
"Yeah, but you'd still love me because you love pickles,"
"Yeah, well, I love you more, though." Daniel laughed so hard as he kissed your forehead. "Oh, wow. I feel special,"
"You should,"
Y/UserName
Liked by danielricciardo and 173,487 others.
Y/UserName Forever, my favourite pickle.🥹✨️🥒
danielricciardo love you, too sweetheart ❤️ why the teary eyed emoji tho? 🥹
↬ Lilymhe @/danielricciardo, come get your gf. She's drunk and won't stop talking about pickles.🫠
↬danielricciardo omw 🏃♂️💨
FanUser1 I am feeling more and more single with each post 🙂
FanUser2 @/FanUser3 wake up. Mum is emotional and drunk, again.
FanUser4 We appreciate a drunk girlfriend in love 🤌🏻❤️
landonorris Did she just call you a pickle? 😂
↬maxverstappen1 I'm intrigued 👀
↬danielricciardo y'all just jealous you don't get to have cute pet names like me. 🙄
FanUser5 not Daniel actually taking the pet name seriously 😂
georgerussell63 @/carmenmmundt why am I not your pickle, too? 🥹
hice un edit de daniel con la temática de un poster de taylor y the eras tour que vi en blanco y negro y me encantó muchísimo, probablemente me ponga a hacer los de otros pilotos y los mande todos a imprimir porque posta lo amé
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, themes of loss and descriptions of death, depictions of violence and blood, historical inaccuracies galore.
Summary: A woman living in Portland, ME comes across a peculiar man she feels like she’s met before, perhaps more than once.
Disclaimer: HISTORICAL FICTION. This was only for fun. I fully admit that I did not conduct thesis level research on the details of this story. That being said, the last thing I ever want to do is be insensitive. If you find something so incredibly incorrect it’s offensive - please ‘write’ to me and I will do my best to correct my mistake.
WC: 16K
T H E P R E S E N T – P O R T L A N D, M E
“May I sit here?”
You look up at the man staring down at you with a steaming mug of something in his hands.
Two thoughts pass through your mind: One, this man is incredibly handsome. Jet black hair with eyes almost as dark, honey-gold skin and a smile that could light up the whole downtown area. He looks as though he’s far away from home in this cold, gray city where it’s been raining for weeks on end. The second thought you have is that you know him, his beautiful face is so familiar, but you can’t think of where you’ve seen him.
“Um, everywhere else is full…” he continues off of your silence.
“Sorry, yes, please sit,” you gesture to the chair across the tiny table and smile warmly as he settles into the seat.
You sip your coffee, unsure of what to say or do. Diving back into the pages of your book, shielding yourself from him, feels like the natural thing for you, so that’s what you choose. Occasionally you peer up at him and every time this happens you find him still staring at you, studying you.
“I’m sorry, do we know each other?” you finally ask. Perhaps you’ve had a class with him, or seen him at some event around campus.
The smile that spreads across his face is something between amusement and melancholy. He looks as though he could laugh or cry and you’re not sure how to react.
“You ask that every time,” he says softly, distantly. If you weren’t already hyper-aware of his every breath, you’d have missed it entirely.
Your face scrunches with confused embarrassment, and maybe a slight sense of unease. Okay, so clearly you have met him and just don’t remember. He obviously does though, and you hope your lack of recollection isn’t coming off as offensive.
“I’m sorry, you’ll have to jog my memory I’m afraid,” you shrug apologetically.
He shakes his head, “Don’t fret over it, my name is Hoseok Jung, it’s nice to meet you,” his sunshine smile returns as he sips his beverage.
“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you too,” you hold out your hand to him and he takes it with a gentle squeeze. When he does, something odd happens in your mind, it feels an awful lot like déjà vu but the sensation passes so fast that you instantly let it go.
“Lovely to meet you Y/N.”
“Meet again, you mean?” you joke and he laughs with a nod.
“Always lovely to meet you again,” he smiles warmly.
“So, have we had class together or do you work on campus or something?” you inquire curiously. He looks so smooth with his long legs, perfectly styled hair, and trendy, expensive looking clothes – he has to be a professor or administrator – students don’t typically look so put together.
“No, I’m not really from around here,” he says, taking another sip.
You find this information a bit bewildering. You’ve lived in Portland your whole life, so if he’s not from here – how is it exactly that you’ve crossed paths?
He must see the confusion on your face. He grins, looking down at this lap then leans over the table, folding his hands together as if he’s about to have a serious discussion.
“I’ll explain everything, I promise, but not today,” he chuckles, “today we’ll sit here and talk for a bit longer. I’m going to ask you for your telephone number, and then before you even make it home I’m going to call and ask you out to dinner,” he leans back, resuming his relaxed position and taking another gulp from his mug.
You should be appalled at his cockiness. You should be creeped out by his odd, cryptic behavior. Instead you just stare at him, perplexed. Perplexed because you’re not creeped out, but rather very intrigued. Perhaps it’s his innocent looking face, his bright smile, or the hint of something deliciously wild behind those pretty dark eyes. Whatever it is, you can’t find it within yourself to be offended, instead you want to know everything.
“Oh? Then what happens?” you ask him as if you’re simply asking for him to recount a movie he’s watched or a book he’s read. It’s absurd, the entire conversation, but you feel entertained and drawn in by him.
He leans over the table again with narrow eyes, “Do you really want to know?” he asks in a low timbre, much deeper than he’s spoken so far, like he’s about to tell you all his beautiful secrets. So you nod in response, at a loss for words because as intriguing as this man – Hoseok – is, he’s just as handsome too, and the way he’s staring at you with his dark eyes and speaking in his deep voice feels incendiary.
“Hmm,” he draws out the noise, pretending to be giving it some real thought, then he plasters a mischievous grin on his lips and leans back with a slight shake of his head, “I don’t think you’re ready yet.”
You hadn’t even realized you’d been holding your breath in. Not until it escapes in a disappointed sounding harumph. He chuckles a little and you feel silly, pulling your elbows in and fidgeting with your hands on top of the table.
“Don’t look so sour, this is the fun part, getting to know each other,” he reaches out and pats your hand lightly. It’s an innocent gesture, but that same feeling of déjà vu hits you like a jolt. It feels frustrating. Like a song you’ve hummed a million times, the notes right on the tip of your tongue but still you can’t recall them. Whatever the song is however, you remember it fondly.
“Right,” you nod, still fighting to place him, “So, Hoseok, if you’re not from here what brings you to town?” you ask, deciding to play along.
He doesn’t answer at first, and you watch his animated eyes get a little narrower as if he’s fighting with how to answer you.
“Oh now come on, that was my easiest question,” you joke, attempting to ease his sudden apprehension.
“I’m here, for,” he looks up at you with a puzzling expression, and for a solid moment you think his answer is you. That he is here in town for you, but that’s crazy talk. He seems to realize this, and his face changes back to the easy-going man that asked you for a seat.
“I’m here for work,” he smiles and sips his drink.
“What do you do?” you continue.
“I suppose you could say I’m in environmental protection,” he responds.
“Like, the EPA?” you assume.
“No, I’m not with the EPA. I work for a much more private entity,” he smiles slyly.
“So then what do you do for this private entity that protects the environment?” you wonder.
“I scout areas that I’m sent to. I remove any unacceptable…variables. Then I leave when I get a new assignment,” he explains minimally.
“Leave?” you slip, an absurdly unwarranted disappointment dripping off the word. It’s embarrassing, really, that you should care whether a stranger stays or leaves.
“Don’t worry, time is an irrelevance in the grand scheme of things. It could be years before my employers contact me again,” he shrugs, preening at the way you seemed upset by his departure.
“Oh cool, that’s cool,” you attempt to sound casual, but you don’t. You clear your throat, regroup. “Anyways, give me an example of what an ‘unacceptable variable’ might be, that sounds interesting,” you divert the conversation back to him.
He laughs lightly, but you detect the hint of nervousness under the surface regardless.
“How about I ask some questions? Like…What do you do for a living?” he asks, and you allow him to turn the tables to you, for now. You’ll finish his interrogation another time. Maybe over that dinner he was talking about earlier. Your stomach flip flops at the thought.
“I’m a student,” you say plainly, “I’m majoring in English Literature, but I do work at the local library on Saturdays.”
He smiles warmly, “That suits you.”
“Does it?” you chuckle, “How would you know what suits me?” you raise an eyebrow at him.
“I just think it would, considering you’re a literature major,” he shrugs, looking very interested in his mug.
You take the opportunity to look at the time, speaking of school; you’ve got a lecture to get to in twenty minutes. You wonder if he really meant what he said, would he really ask for your number?
“I hate to cut this short, but I have to get to my class,” you put your belongings in your backpack and give him a sad, but hopeful smile.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asks as you stand from the small table. You look down at the surface, seeing nothing that belongs to you. You look back up at him blankly.
“Your number?” he grins. Right. You try to conceal the way your lips want to grin from ear to ear as you retrieve a Post-it from your bag with a pen. You scribble it out for him and slide it across the table. When he goes to pick it up you hold it in place with your finger and his bewildered eyes meet yours from under thick lashes.
“I don’t like games, so I’m going to just ask you up front,” you tell him, trying your best to sound intimidating, “you say that we know each other, but I don’t recall ever having known you. So, are you, like - some sort of stalker? Or a rapist, or some other unimaginable monster because if so, you picked the wrong girl.”
Hoseok stares at you so admirably, like he’s proud of you, and you release the note from your grasp.
“I am none of those things, and I wouldn’t hurt you Y/N. I never have and I never will.”
“You are so weird,” you sigh, “but I’m curious.”
With that he shoots you one last sunshine-bright smile and it’s enough, you think, to get you through the rest of the week.
“See you soon,” he says, sending you on your way.
You buckle in and you’re about to start the ignition when your cell begins to ring.
You already know.
“Hello?” you try to feign casual indifference as you answer the new, unknown number.
“So, I was thinking about this date you insisted on,” Hoseoks voice carries through the speakers.
“Date that I insisted on? A few moments ago it was just dinner, at your suggestion no less,” you remind him playfully.
“Semantics,” he dismisses, “I was wondering what you think about boats?”
“Boats? I’m not sure I have strong opinions of them. What were you thinking?”
“I’d like to have dinner with you, on my boat,” he suggests.
“That sounds…suspiciously dangerous.”
“Ah, but we’ve already established I’m not a stalker, rapist or murderer,” he emphasizes.
“Mm, I don’t think we ruled out murderer…”
“I’m not a murderer.”
“Well then, dinner on your boat sounds great,” you laugh.
“Good. I’ll text you the rest tomorrow. Have fun in class,” he finishes and you’re positively giddy as you end the call.
⏳⏳⏳⏳
Hoseok smiles as he pockets his phone and begins walking down the street.
“You’re a long way from Vermont,” the deep, gravelly voice manifests from nowhere.
Hoseok stiffens, then relaxes as he turns to face his mentor, Ethelred.
“That depends on perspective,” he says coolly, “for example one could say that I’m far from Vermont, if you think three hours is far. I would say though that you’re much, much further from your post. Last I heard you were supposed to be in Japan.”
The older man laughs with little amusement.
“You and I both know why I’m here,” he retorts, “and we know why you’re here too.”
He nods to the right a bit and Hoseok watches as you pull out of the small lot, unaware you’re being watched.
He turns back to the man, “Leave her alone, I just got here, we just met!”
“Yeah? How many times is that now?” the man grumbles.
Hoseok watches as your vehicle disappears into the crowd of traffic.
“Let’s go have a drink, old friend,” the man sets a meaty fist on Hoseoks shoulder and pulls him forward down the sidewalk.
Possibly one of the worst things about being immortal was the close knit community of other immortals. Inescapable, they are.
Ethelred was one of those inescapable nuisances. Though Hoseok did have to admit he was one of his only friends, if you could call it friendship. Ethelred had been his mentor for centuries, up until Hoseok had decided going it alone was less troublesome. Going it alone meant he had no one to justify his choices to, no one he had to explain decisions to. Which was extremely beneficial when his decisions started becoming all about you.
Hoseok watches as Ethelred sips on the smooth amber liquid in his glass. He twists his own beverage impatiently around the table, moving the little ring of condensation all over. He wishes the elder would just get on with it and go.
“What’s the status report from Roxbury?” Ethelred finally asks.
“Cleared,” Hoseok says simply.
“Cleared entirely? Why is this news to me?” He asks.
“Do we have to do this Ed?” Hoseok rolls his eyes, finally taking a rather large gulp of his scotch on the rocks.
“It couldn’t be that you…intentionally skipped your report so you could prolong your time in the area?” Ethelred scoffs.
“I do my job,” Hoseok seethes, “I do my job well. So why the fuck do they always have you breathing down my neck?”
Ethelred looks at Hoseok for a moment, wondering if he’ll ever not have to have this discussion.
“You know why, don’t play dumb. It’s not a cute look on you.”
“I’ve never broken the rules,” Hoseok smirks.
“Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face kid, just because you found a loophole doesn’t mean you’re not in danger,” Ethelred snaps.
Hoseok huffs, “Danger. Right.”
“She’s in danger then,” Ethelred shares, unsurprised when Hoseok makes a guttural noise in his throat.
“She’s done nothing, she never has,” Hoseok growls.
Ethelred sighs, “I know, but the Elder Court grows tired of you making a mockery of their most absolute rule.”
“I’m not! She’s not an immortal, trust me. I’ve endured her death enough times to know the agony. To know that she isn’t, in fact, an immortal,” Hoseok seethes. He can’t help but detach himself from the current discussion, mind wandering back to you. Now that he’s found you in this lifetime he wonders how long he’ll get to keep you this time.
“She’s not an immortal, but she is an Infinite. There’s no denying it at this point,” Ethelred points out.
An Infinite Soul. Not an immortal body, but an immortal soul that will keep coming back, making you the same person over and over. Reincarnation, some call it, but in that regard people come back as different people, entities, different beings. Somehow you always come back as…you.
Hoseok has known it for a very long time, and he always wondered what would happen when the others realized it.
“The rule forbids me to love another immortal. She isn’t one, so there’s no quarrel,” Hoseok shrugs.
“The rules were formed before they knew what an Infinite was! It’s a technicality at best, you arrogant bastard,” Ethelred laughs.
“A technicality is still a plausible exemption,” Hoseok mutters bitterly, not really believing it himself.
“You act as if our highest court is the same as the humans. There is no such thing as getting off on technicalities, kid.”
Ethelred takes in Hoseoks uneasy expression. He hates when the kid isn’t his usual ball of sarcastic sun.
“It really is a shame,” Ethelred empathizes, “that out of all the people on this planet an immortal fell in love with an Infinite. The odds are astronomical, really. Only about a dozen of each on this moss-covered shit hole and you two found each other somehow.”
“Life’s a bitch that way,” Hoseok mutters, gesturing to their waiter for another drink.
“Why?” Ethelred wonders out loud, “why don’t you just let her be? Save yourself all this trouble, save yourself from watching her die - does she ever even reach old age with your ass in the picture?”
“What are you talking about?” Hoseok freezes his drink halfway to his mouth.
“You're an immortal kid, your very existence is a crime against nature. So nature tends to try and work you out; a stray car, a bolt of lightning, an illness - ‘cept none of those things can get you, but they sure can get the ones closest to you, right?”
Hoseoks grip tightens on the glass as he agonizingly considers all the ways he ever watched you die. His eyes screw shut at the memories.
No. Deny, deny, deny.
“She’s reached old age plenty,” Hoseoks brows furrow as he resumes drinking.
“Indeed,” Ethelred nods, “but tell me, weren’t those the lives that someone else got to her first?”
Hoseok winces again. There were the occasional lives in which he took a little too long to find you. When he finally did, you were with someone else. Married, sometimes with children. He would watch, broken hearted, checking in occasionally to see if you were happy, treated well. There were even a few times you weren’t happy, and though he was ashamed to admit it, he’d spent his fair share of days with you in some secret spot. He would fuck you in the ways only he knew you wanted. Making you call out his name, relishing in what little time he was given with you before you had to go back to your partner. Your life without him.
However, this new theory that he was somehow the reason behind the times you died unreasonably was causing a very different type of agony and shame. He was beginning to feel ill. It was absurd, wasn’t it?
Hoseok gulps his drink harder.
“Am I being summoned or what?” Hoseok asks dryly, his cheeks feeling warm from the alcohol already. His stomach churned over the thoughts that now violated his head.
“Not today,” Ethelred shrugs, “but they want you to be aware they know. The court has become more and more lenient over the years, but this they cannot allow. So, you might want to make this time count, because it’s your last time together.”
It’s not a suggestion, or a request. Hoseok scoffs again, swiveling in his seat to flag the waiter down for their checks.
When he turns around, Ethelred is gone. Didn’t leave any money either.
“Asshole.”
Hoseok is left alone with the bill, but also left with the most dreadful feeling in the pit of his stomach. The realization that he may actually have been causing you great harm over the years, and the promise that if he continued seeking you out, the elder court would involve themselves.
In a moment like this, what he really needed was you. Your warm embrace, the feeling of your soft lips dusting the sides of his face in the gentlest kisses. Your body wrapped around his.
Now he was rethinking everything. He’d already had lifetimes with you, was he being selfish in wanting more? Was he putting your very life in danger? Was he even capable of staying away?
Questions that indeed needed answers.
⏳⏳⏳⏳
Call him a sap, but one of Hoseoks favorite things about re-meeting you was getting you to fall for him… again.
It only came second to the moment. The moment it all came back to you, the lifetimes you’d shared, the love you had. Sometimes it took days, weeks - sometimes it took years. There was always a moment though, when your gazes would connect, and you’d usually start sobbing. The trigger each time was different, that was something Hoseok could never pinpoint. If he could, if it was as simple as uttering a phrase or showing you a specific photo - he’d lead with that. He’d tried in the past, to tell you everything up front, but it only ever frightened you. So while he waited for you to come around, he got the privilege of trying to get you to love him. Again.
This time, as he stared at his phone apprehensively, things felt different. He was supposed to be texting you, flirting with you, getting you excited for your ‘first’ date. All he could think about though was if he was risking your life.
He felt such a strong desire to protect you. He had to. He’d protect you this time. It was his duty.
He picked his phone up and hit the call button. It rings several times before he hears your delicate voice.
“Wow. Here I was starting to think you were a figment of my imagination,” you tease, a bit disheartened sounding. He winces.
“I’m sorry, I know I told you I’d get in touch with you sooner. I had a work thing come up,” he lies. He hates lying. He hopes you don’t take as long to remember this time.
“It’s okay,” you relent, “you called, by today’s standards that alone puts you at the head of the game.”
“I didn’t realize we were playing one,” he says.
“We are when you don’t call when you say you will,” you jab.
“Ouch, but okay that’s fair. Let me make it up to you tonight?”
“I’m listening,” you reply casually.
“Do you enjoy sushi?” he asks, but he already knows you love it.
“I’ve been known to indulge occasionally. Are you going to take me to eat sushi?”
“No. I’m going to order a ridiculous amount of very expensive sushi and we’re going to eat it under romantic lighting on my boat while we watch the stars,” he corrects you.
“Oh, that sounds…” romantic, sweet, sexy, awesome, “pleasant.”
Hoseok guffaws. “I’m glad you think it sounds pleasant. Would you like me to pick you up or would you prefer to drive yourself? Keep in mind there will be wine and I simply refuse to let you drive intoxicated.”
“Mm, I’ll take my chances with my own car,” you inform him. Partly to give yourself a getaway just in case, but partly because you wouldn’t be aggressively opposed to being stuck, slightly intoxicated, on a boat with his hotness.
“Suit yourself, I’ll text you the address,” he says and he can feel your hesitation through the phone. Would he really? Or would he ghost you again?
“I swear,” he promises.
When you hang up you’re pleased that your phone dings within a minute.
<Meet me at the docks, 47 Shorline St. it’s just the lot, I’ll be waiting for you around 7pm. See you soon beautiful.>
“Okay, wooooow.”
Tessas voice tears you out of your giddy thoughts. You look up, watching as your roommate - the personified antithesis of yourself - removes her wireless headset and pauses her Overwatch game.
“What?” you play it off with a shrug.
“Yo bro who got you smilin’ like that?” she cackles.
“Shut up!” you toss a Yoda shaped throw pillow at her.
“Seriously, who’s texting you?”
“Just this guy I met at the café a couple days ago, it’s not a big deal,” you blush wildly.
“At the café huh? You literally could not script a more rom-com meetcute. Very 90s.”
“It was kind of romantic, like something that only happens in movies,” you agree.
“‘S he hot?”
“Uh, yeah, like really hot,” you smile, then suddenly overcome with panic, “do you think he’s tricking me?”
“Tricking you? Like, in what way?”
“Like he’s way too hot for me Tess, and you should see him - how he dresses. He’s obviously loaded. Like, I’m pretty sure he had a Louis Vuitton trench on, and he’s supposed to be taking me out tonight on his boat. Who has a boat?”
“Dude, this is Portland. Land of port? Like, everybody has a fucking boat,” she rolls her eyes.
Okay that…that’s true.
“I don’t know, he’s different. He talks funny,” you add.
“Talks funny like with an accent?” Tess is back to playing her game but is at least giving you 40% of her attention.
“No, more like, he talked like we’d met before, but we haven’t,” you explain.
“Like a romance novel ‘lovers traveling through time’ thing or like he’s been ‘stalking you for years and knows you but you don’t know him’ way?”
“Not exactly the first one…” you scrunch your nose up and Tess pauses her game again.
“So are we really going with option two: crazy super stalker? Did he give you creep vibes?” she asks, voice dripping with merited concern.
“See that’s the thing,” you sigh, “he didn’t give me creepy or weird vibes at all. Don’t get me wrong, it was a weird conversation, but the whole time I kinda felt like he was…right.”
“Right? About what?”
“Like maybe I do know him, but I just don’t remember. I had weird déjà vu shivers like twice,” you share.
“Uh, yeah déjà vu isn’t real dude. That was probably your brain trying to tell you to run.”
You say nothing.
“Y/N…have you or have you not met this dude? Yes or no answer.”
“No…,” you admit miserably.
“Then my best advice is to steer clear,” Tess says. When she looks at you she purses her lips, “you’re not going to though, are you?”
“I just…want to know him,” you say dreamily.
“Oh lord. Who are you and what have you done with Y/N? She’s never made a risky decision in her life!”
She’s right. Risk taking was not part of your routine. When you were younger, you decided you wanted to try gymnastics after watching the Olympics. You did alright, until your coach wanted you to try flips without a spotter. The words “broken neck” kept flashing in your head. So you quit. Naturally.
“I really don’t think it’s a risk. He was really nice,” you assure her.
“Really nice looking you mean?” she counters with a scoff.
“I’m going to go get ready,” you grumble.
“Fine but write the address on the fridge so when you go missing I can give the cops a lead at least,” Tess calls as you exit the room.
“Har, har,” you mock.
Then again…you do, in fact, write the address on the white board, and Hoseoks name. It’s the least you can do just in case. You overhear Tess talking to her gaming crew as you ascend the stairs,
“Yeah, just my roommate. She’s gonna get murdered ‘cause she’s horny.”
Maybe.
⏳⏳⏳⏳
Hoseok is standing against the wall of the fishing shack that overlooks the parking lot of the docks, waiting for you. He’s not seen or heard from Ethelred since he disappeared at the bar, but his words linger, bouncing around Hoseoks head.
A car pulling into the lot refocuses his attention and he smiles when he sees it’s you behind the wheel.
“Hey there,” you suddenly feel very shy as you climb out of your car.
“Hi gorgeous,” he greets, fighting the urge to kiss you. Not yet. Not until you want him to.
Instead he places his hand on the small of your back, a safe distance from your ass but still enough to give you butterflies.
“You smell good,” you blurt out, unsure of what to talk about. It’s the first thing that popped into your head because he really does smell divine. Your inner feminist is cringing but god, he smells like a man and it makes your knees feel weak.
“Thank you!” he laughs. He slides his arm up and around your shoulder so he can pull you in just a bit as you stroll past the boat slips. You smile broadly at the sensation.
There are several boats lined up on each side of the wooden walkway that sways gently in the wake of the water. Though classifying some of them as mere boats feels like an understatement. Some of them loom above the water like floating mansions and some look tattered and torn, used and abused by fishing or trapping.
When the two of you are nearly to the end you catch sight of a lovely mid-sized sailboat with hanging lanterns casting a romantic orange-gold glow on the deck within the mist.
“That’s your boat?” you ask, pointing.
Hoseok grins excitedly, “How did you know that?” he asks. The amount of times you’ve been on this boat were immeasurable and he can’t help but feel optimistic that something within you knows it.
“I mean, there’s a candlelit table for two on the deck? I guess someone else could be dining out tonight but I mean, pretty clear isn’t it?” you grin.
“Ah,” Hoseok stiffens, “right.”
He steps onto the boat. It really is pretty. He turns around and lends you a hand, holding you steady as you step on as well.
“It’s lovely,” you tell him, running your hands along the well maintained wooden rails and structures.
“Thank you,” he responds, looking around proudly. It’s clear he’s taken great care with it, his attachment to it evident in the way his eyes sparkle with memories and fondness.
“Does it have a name? Don’t most boats have names?” you wonder.
Hoseok smiles, “Wendy.”
“Wendy? Like, from Peter Pan?” you raise a brow.
He chuckles, and shakes his head, “No, Wendy as in the woman I loved when I bought this boat,” he says, though he supposed Wendy was such a popular name at the time he purchased it because of the one from Peter Pan, it was all the rage in 1904 thanks to the play.
“That’s…very romantic,” you smile, “and where is Wendy now?” you wonder, swallowing down the very irrational spark of jealousy you feel for no reason.
He looks at you, sadly, and you can feel his gaze penetrating your very soul. You wish to any God in existence you knew what he was thinking behind those heartbreaking eyes.
“She passed away a long time ago,” he shares, and his eyes lock into yours to gauge your reaction.
“Oh God,” your hand flies to your mouth, “Hoseok I’m so sorry, that’s awful.”
Your mind flashes to different versions of him sitting on this very deck, mourning a woman he loved who had to have been taken very young.
He smiles, though it looks a bit sad, and shrugs, “It’s okay,” he says softly, “Grief is the price we pay to love.”
“Yes,” you agree, “I suppose it is.”
You stare at each other for a few silent moments, then he stands, clearing his throat.
“Do you want to see the cabin?” he asks, more cheerful.
“I would.”
The cabin is narrow, but surprisingly roomy. The design laid out clearly and concisely so as to make the most of the smaller space.
“It’s cozy,” you compliment, “Do you live here?”
You note the small closet filled with clothes, the bed that’s made but clearly used, and other tell-tale signs of a permanent inhabitant.
“I do, it’s cheaper than renting,” he laughs.
“Um, where should I put my coat?” you ask, sliding the camel trench off your shoulders.
“Oh, here,” he shuffles behind you, his warm hands coming down on your upper arm. He slides the coat off, leaving a trail of tingling warmth in his wake.
You fiddle with the hem of your shirtwaist dress bashfully.
“I wasn’t sure if a dress would be appropriate boat attire,” you chuckle.
“You look stunning, you’d look stunning in anything, but you look good enough to eat in that dress,” he whispers.
Oh.
You swallow and lick your lips nervously.
“I’m sorry,” he says guiltily, “I didn’t mean-,”
“Yes you did,” you say softly and smile at him, trying your best to exude seduction, “You meant it, and it’s okay. I don’t mind,” you explain, taking a few brave steps toward him.
You cannot, even if your life depended on it, explain why you are so attracted to this man. You don’t even care why, if you’re being honest with yourself.
“I’m trying to be a gentleman here,” he smiles playfully, his breathing a bit heavy as you look up at him, barely any space between you.
“I don’t want you to be,” you respond boldly.
That’s all Hoseok needed to hear. He tucks his hand underneath your chin and pulls you into him. If only you knew how desperate he’s been to kiss you, to touch you. He’s been aching for it for what feels like forever, which considering he’s immortal, is a big deal.
When his lips collide with yours he moans, immediately pushing his tongue in your mouth. There won’t be any chaste first kisses this time, no timid boundary hunting, he just wants you - and you want him. You hitch your thigh around him, pulling him against you as you wrap your arms around his neck.
He kisses you against the wall, then spins you against the tiny little countertop, then he pushes you down onto the bed and kisses you there, his hand trailing up your thigh. Your arms never unwrap from around his neck, you never once stop trying to pull him into you. You don’t want it to stop. Ever.
Then your stomach growls. Loudly.
“Oh my God,” you whisper, pressing your lips together as he pulls off of you with a giant grin.
“Hungry?”
“I skipped lunch today,” you say sheepishly as he rolls off of you.
“The food is in the mini-fridge. I wasn’t sure when you’d want to eat and I didn’t want it to spoil,” he says, helping you up off the bed.
“That’s very practical,” you comment, still reeling from embarrassment. You also take note that your underwear feels exceptionally…wet…and you wonder, quite irresponsibly, if that will be all for this evening.
⏳⏳⏳⏳
He had promised a ridiculous amount of sushi and boy, did he deliver. He unpacks a giant platter of wicked looking sushi from the tiny little fridge. You’re actually quite surprised it fit in the first place. You grab your coat and follow him back up onto the deck to the small table he’d set.
“It’s a little colder than I had anticipated,” he apologizes as you pull your coat tighter between bites of food.
“It’s the rain,” you tell him, “cold front came in and evidently doesn’t plan on letting up. It’s okay though,” you smile with a shiver, “the wine is cold at least!”
He stands and blows out the candle, “Let’s go back below deck,” he smiles as you both gather up the meal and take it down into the cabin.
“This is by far the coolest date I’ve ever been on,” you reassure him, tummy stuffed with delicious food. He still looks disappointed that he couldn’t capitalize on the promise of a candlelit dinner beneath the stars. “I’ve never been on a boat so nice, it’s a lovely date,” you add for good measure.
“Have you ever been serious with anyone?” he asks. Oh, okay, right into the roster then.
You think about it for a moment, meeting his gaze and suddenly you don’t feel confident in your answer of “no.” You’ve never really had a serious relationship, but sitting here, looking at him makes you unsure for some inexplicable reason. This has happened, you realize, several times over dinner. Him asking you a question about your life that you should be able to answer easily, but for some reason you can’t. For some reason the answer feels fuzzy on your tongue, like your memories are mixing together. Damn, you’ve barely even had a full glass of wine. What is going on with you?
“Uhm, no,” you finally say, “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t know?” he laughs.
“I don’t know,” you reply, but he can tell you want to say more. “I don’t want to be weird and scare you off,” you laugh miserably.
“You couldn’t scare me off, I’m the weirdo, remember?”
You both chuckle and it makes you feel a bit more comfortable.
“I just don’t know how to explain it,” you begin, “but everytime I open my mouth to answer a question you ask - I’m not sure I’m answering right.”
“That’s okay,” he says, “I just love the sound of your voice.”
God. Swoon.
“You are so smooth,” you laugh, pouring a bit more wine in your glass, “too smooth.”
“You think I’m smooth?” he grins, shifting in his seat. You soon feel his hand on your thigh underneath the tiny table. Good.
You take a healthy gulp of wine and swallow it down with a shrug.
“I think if you keep saying things like how stunning I am, how you love my voice,” you put your hand over his under the table, “and keep doing that, then I’m going to act very unladylike on our first date.”
He scoots a bit closer to you, “Do you want me to stop? I will, if you tell me to,” he whispers and his breath near your neck sends goosebumps across your body.
“I don’t want you to stop,” you reply, turning your face up to his.
He kisses you, not as desperately this time, though you’re certainly not complaining about the way he ravished you earlier.
“You have no idea how much I want you,” he whispers, practically dragging you from your seat at the table.
Maybe you don’t have any idea, but you also can’t begin to describe how much you want him too. You can’t remember a time when you’ve been so enamored by a person. You can’t explain why when he presses his body against yours, it feels like you’re home after an exhausting journey. Can’t explain why when his hand cups your sex, rubbing his palm against you, you moan loudly, desperately wanting more - okay, maybe that one is easier to explain.
You untie the belt around your waist, beginning to work on the buttons down your dress. Hoseok pulls his sweater off, then happily assists you with your task.
When you’re only left in your underwear you crash your lips against his again, “What are you doing to me?” you can’t help but wonder between breaths.
He pulls away, caressing your shoulders, “I can’t explain it, just know I feel it too, I feel it,” he pants, he holds your palm to his chest and you can feel his heart pounding.
“Do you have condoms?” you ask, dragging him back down on top of you.
“Y-Yes,” he mumbles against your mouth. He could explain that it really wouldn’t matter if he had them or not, that his semen can’t bear children, that he can’t contract any disease that could do either of you any harm. Not that it matters, he made a vow to you centuries ago and he’s always stayed true to his word. Still, he rifles around the drawer under the bed sightlessly until he feels the square foil with the familiar ring inside.
“Are you sure? You know we - we don’t have to do this,” he says cautiously as he watches you fiddle with the mechanisms on his pants.
You look up at him, one singular moment of clearness sets in, “Do you think we shouldn’t?” you ask miserably and he shakes his head back and forth but you don’t let him answer, “I hate to kill the mood, but even I have to admit that I’m being very irresponsible right now. I don’t know what’s gotten into me, I can’t explain it.”
You sit back on your knees and he grabs your hands.
“You don’t have to feel irresponsible with me. Not in the slightest. I lo- I like you so much, I’m not here to hit it and quit it, I swear,” he holds you at arms length and looks at you seriously. Another moment and the clearness is gone…you laugh.
“What?”
“I don’t think I’ve heard someone say ‘hit it and quit it’ since I was a kid. How old are you anyway?”
“Twenty-eight,” he answers quickly.
“Mm, seven years older than me,” you chuckle, crawling over to straddle his lap, “that’s kind of hot,” you whisper against his ear, pulling him so you can kiss his neck.
“Glad you think so,” he replies tightly as you grind down on his lap.
He scoots the two of you back as you wrap your legs around him, his hand brushes over the condom wrapper, he picks it up between his middle and index fingers.
“Do you still want…or should I put it away?”
You take a steady breath and pluck the package from his hand. Scooting down his legs a bit, you place your palm against his chest, gently pushing him down onto his back. He complies easily, lifting his hips as you tug away his remaining clothes, eyes on you hungrily.
“Impressive,” you smile, teasing kisses over the delicate skin of his hard erection.
“Oh God,” he smiles wickedly as you descend your mouth onto him, his head falling back on the pillow. Fuck, he always forgets how good it feels.
You continue, trying to keep your mind blank - lest you allow yourself to realize how uncharacteristic you’re being. You love watching him clutch the sheets and the pillows in a desperate attempt to keep himself from falling apart inside your mouth.
“Please, I need to feel you, please,” he whispers, rather breathlessly.
You rip into the foil wrapper and cautiously roll the latex down his throbbing length, still dripping with precum and spit.
When the condom is in place Hoseok wastes no time flipping you over, sliding his body between your legs, caressing and kissing every exposed inch of your flesh.
He slides your underwear down your legs as you toss your bra into the floor. He pauses a moment, his eyes roaming your body.
“You are so beautiful love, so fucking beautiful,” he says, biting his tongue so he doesn’t tell you how much he loves you, how much he’s missed you. Hoping he doesn’t cry when he pushes into you. The last time you’d been together was 1992, nearly thirty years missing you. Thirty years of trying to guess where you’d turn up this time and trying to gauge when to seek you out.
You’ve never had someone look at you like this. It nearly brings tears to your eyes, how genuinely in love he looks, hovering above you. It puts such a warm, happy feeling in your chest that you choose to ignore how ridiculous it sounds for him to love you. How ridiculous it sounds that you kind of, maybe, feel like you love him too.
“Hoseok…”
“Shh, let me savor this,” he whispers. “You’re so wet baby,” he smirks, twisting his fingers around your folds sinfully.
“Oh!”
Hoseok sinks his middle finger into you as he leans forward and teases your clit with his tongue.
“Mmmm,” he moans into your flesh. “Fuck it’s so good,” he groans, ceasing his finger pumps to focus solely on tasting you. The way he slowly teases your slit then brings his tongue to your sensitive nerves in quick, pressured strokes makes your insides twist up. If he’s this good with his tongue, what’s his dick going to feel like?
“Oh my god Hoseok,” you whine, “fuck me.”
He lifts his face from your sex, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth as he lines himself up with you. He pulls your leg up, resting your knee against his shoulder as he plunges his cock into your heat.
You both cry out at the sensation. He stills for just a second, catching one of your nipples gently between his lips, flattening his tongue over the sensitive nerve endings. Then he starts again, fucking you at a curious angle, but god is it getting the job done. Little do you know just how long Hoseoks had to know exactly what feels good to you.
“What the fuck…” you cry, unaware that you’ve even said it out loud. Hoseok knows what he is doing. You’ve rarely ever had an orgasm from just penetration, maybe twice your whole life and one of them was your vibrator. He’s about to make you come absolutely undone.
“You like that baby? Tell me how much,” he growls.
“So much, so, so…oh fuck…”
“I’m not going to last, it’s been too long…” he pants, “trust me.”
He lifts your hips up off the mattress and fucks into you hard and fast, another weird angle but it doesn’t matter. He could twist you up like a pretzel and you’d still be seeing stars. You bite down on your lip as your orgasm hits you in waves that synch up to the rhythm of his cock still fucking you. He finally stills, deep inside your canal, as he spills himself into the condom.
You lay there several moments, stunned. Hoseok continues to pepper kisses across your neck, chest, and shoulders. It’s not until after he disposes of the condom, coming back to the bed with some water for you, that he speaks.
“I’m trying to be calm,” he laughs nervously, “but your silence is making me freak out a little on the inside.”
You sit up, pulling his sheet around you for warmth and coverage, and politely sip the water. A million thoughts are racing through your mind as you try to consider what to say.
You’d love to simply relish in the fact that this incredibly attractive, sweet guy is also amazing at sex and you feel like you may have struck the boyfriend lottery. The part of your brain that consistently chooses violence against your happiness, however, is screaming at you that you shouldn’t feel so strongly about someone so fast. That this closeness you’re feeling is curiously abnormal.
“You’re still not saying anything,” Hoseok says softer, his hand lacing into yours.
“Why did it feel like that?” you ask quietly, your gaze fixing on his dark eyes.
“Was it not…good? Or?” Hoseok fumbles over the words because he knows precisely what you really mean but he hasn’t prepared an answer.
“It was… the closest I’ve ever felt to another human being in my life. And I wanna know why I feel like this around you,” you push.
Hoseok searches your features for some mercy, he finds none, you’re not going to let him dumb his way out of this. You’re smart, always much smarter than him, and as the centuries roll by you only get more intuitive, empathic, and sharp.
He gives you a resigned sigh, “It’s…complicated.”
“You told me at the coffee shop we’ve met before, let’s just start there,” you suggest.
“Y/N…”
“Please, Hoseok,” you look up at him, “please.”
“You’re not…it’s not…fuck,” he whispers.
“Just tell me about when we met, it shouldn’t be complicated,” you give him an assuring warm smile.
He bites his bottom lip, let’s out a long sigh, then grabs your hand in his as you both lay back, he pulls you in close.
“When we met, the first time, I fell in love with you the very first time I spoke to you…”
Kingdom of East Anglia, 9th Century
He’d seen you before, the beautiful girl from the barley fields. He’d spent several afternoons listening to your songs. He was soothed by the melodies you hummed because you thought no one was near. It reminded him of the songs his mother used to sing while she also worked, when he was a small boy, before he was chosen to drink from the spring on his 28th year.
He watched as you walked through the dense forest. He gathered you needed some relief from the heat, the thick of the woods providing an air that was significantly cooler. He’d never seen you this close, and he watched cautiously as you dabbed at the perspiration on your face and neck with the sheer veil that adorned your head, fastened with a pretty band. He wished so badly to just speak to you, to know you.
It’s not that he was explicitly forbidden from conversing with the mortals, he and Ethelred had spoken to plenty on their travels. God knows Ethelred, familiarizes himself with plenty local women when they stay somewhere a while.
What he is forbidden from doing is revealing himself as immortal, interfering the humans in their business, telling them about the poisons that endanger their worlds - the things that the Elder Court keeps hidden.
“Oh!”
Hoseok refocuses at the sound of your voice. He watches, an alarm growing in his chest as you retrieve your basket to pluck the medium sized, midnight-blue berries from the bush you had just stumbled upon.
You couldn’t know it, but the berries were poisoned. It’s The Venome poisoning this forest, breaching the roots of the greens and contaminating the life out of healthy vegetation. It’s happening all over the world, and Hoseok is tasked to stop it. He’d been searching the woods high and low trying to find the source.
He bit down on his lip as he watched you make the biggest mistake. Those berries would kill anyone who tasted them before they could swallow it down.
It’s not until you pluck one particularly juicy looking berry off the bush, and begin to bring it to your soft lips that he chooses to disregard every rule he’d been given.
“STOP! Don’t eat it!” he yells, holding a hand up. He couldn’t explain why, but the thought of existing in a world you no longer lived was unbearable.
You opened your mouth to scream but Hoseok clamped his palm over it faster.
“Please don’t scream, I mean you no harm, I swear by my life I mean you no harm!”
Your hands wrapped frantically around his wrist to tug his hand away.
“Are you going to make a ruckus because if you are I’m not letting you go, in fact I’m quite happy to remain like this forever,” he teases.
“Erenmtgrmm.”
“Hmm, I did not quite get that,” he laughs. “I think I’ll free you but please don’t scream…or run away.”
You nod in agreement and slowly he removes his hand from your lips.
You’d never seen anything like him before. Everything from the way he dressed to the way his skin looked kissed by the sunlight. His differences scared you, and yet, you couldn’t look away or wish yourself to be anywhere else.
“Do not be frightened,” he says warmly.
“I am unafraid,” you lie, stiffening your stature and looking him directly in his dark eyes, a solution your father taught you for facing fears.
“I’ve seen you,” he says, “in the fields. What’s your name?”
“Odd,” you cross your arms, “I’ve never laid eyes upon you. Perhaps you should introduce yourself to begin with.”
He smiles broadly, a gesture that immediately puts you at ease as you had never seen such a beautiful smile.
“Of course my lady,” he bows before you dramatically. “My name is Hoseok, and I hail from Baekje, in the Far East, and I’m very happy to know you,” he looks back up with warmth and something deep within you stirs.
“My name is ___, and I hail from the Kingdom you stand in, and I’m not sure if I’m happy to know you yet or not,” you tease playfully. “Why have you come so far away from your people?”
At this, Hoseok falters. Ethelred will be most unhappy with him for this. He departed to assist in an urgent matter for the Elder Court, only to be gone for one lunar cycle. He’s due back any day.
“I - I am just traveling the world,” he explains.
“Oh, that sounds like the most exciting adventure. I’ve never left the village I grew up in, what is it like? To see so many places?” you ask curiously.
“It’s interesting,” he laughs, “To see how different the people are, how different the laws and villages are, the different customs, stories - then to look a bit closer and see there’s really not many differences at all.”
“Surely there are some?”
Hoseok shakes his head, “Not truly. We all just want health and happiness, wealth drives us, love intrigues us,” he looks at you slyly, “though I will admit that I’ve never encountered quite as beautiful a maiden as you.”
“You have some bravery,” you scoff, though you secretly admit that you’ve never been so enthralled. “If someone walked into this forest right now and saw me speaking to you alone…” you trail off, cautiously glancing at the break of trees behind you.
“What would happen?” he asks with an arrogant smirk.
“I’d be whipped, ruined, and forced into the altar room for God only knows how long and you…well, I imagine you’d end up hanging from a rope.”
“Ruined?” Hoseok prods, he could not care less about the thought of himself hanged. It would not bother him in the slightest, he’d wake up the next day with a sore neck perhaps.
“My reputation of course, no man will want me if I’m known to wander through woods alone with other strange men!”
“I’m not strange,” he refutes, “and I can’t imagine you’ll have a problem finding a match. Your beauty is unparalleled.”
“It isn’t, but thank you for saying so,” you sigh, “A much bigger issue is my lack of wealth. My father studies the skies, not a high stationed occupation, not even as much as a farmer or a merchant. I work in these fields to earn what his salary can’t afford,” you explain.
“You shouldn’t disparage your father,” Hoseok says darkly, his own yearning for his mother and father, his sisters and brother bubbling in his heart. They’ve long been gone now and his heart aches for them.
“I do not disparage!” you snap, “my father is by far the most intelligent man in our village and I’m proud of him. I only speak the truth plainly because I do not dwell within a fantasy of what my life truly is.”
Hoseok smiles at your defense, most women just stay silent, staring at the ground. He likes you more with every passing moment.
“You are a feisty one, do you suppose a bigger issue in your ability to match might be that sharp tongue of yours?”
You sigh and nod, “Quite possibly, yes.”
Hoseok laughs and it’s such a lightness that you can’t help but join him.
“What about you, then? A man your age and as fit should be married, where is your wife? Somewhere jumping at strangers for eating berries also?”
“A life of travel doesn’t suit marriage so I have no wife, and those berries would have you lain on the forest floor dead, so you should be thanking me,” he explains.
“Dead? I don’t think so, these berries have always grown on the skirt of the forest, never this big, but we’ve eaten them as long as I can remember and beyond. Someone who hails from the Far East wouldn’t know, would he?” you challenge.
“They’ve been poisoned,” he explains, “do not eat them, I beg you.”
“Fine,” you sigh, still not believing him, “for a stranger you seem to care very much for my well-being.”
“I do care,” he admits.
“Because you find me beautiful? How perfectly shallow,” you tease him.
“I do, I also like your wit, now that I’ve been introduced to it. Also I find your working songs to be pleasant and soothing. I wish I could listen to them forever.”
“I wasn’t aware anyone was listening,” you squeak, heating with embarrassment.
“Don’t look so alarmed, I love your voice, the way it sounds. On windy days it carries through the wind, whispers through the trees to me.”
“Are you a romantic? You sound as much like one as I’ve ever heard.”
“Only with you,” he smiles.
“You don’t know me.”
“Let me know you then,” he reaches his hand out to brush a bit of dust off your cheek. The gesture is obscene, truly, and you ought to slap him for being so forward. Instead you do something equally obscene and lay your palm over his hand.
“Are you a demon? Trying to tempt and charm me?” you wonder.
“Not a demon, no, of that I’m sure, but I can’t reasonably describe what I am to you,” he admits.
“An angel cast down then? Not pure enough to stay in heaven but too beautiful to burn in hell?”
“No, I’m not an angel either. I’m…between.”
“But not human?” you question nervously.
“I once was.”
“Y/N!?”
The both of you twist toward the voice calling your name, your heart nearly thumps out of your chest.
“It’s the woman I work for. I have to go.”
“Tomorrow then? Can I see you tomorrow? Right here?” he begs.
You nod, opening the pouch that hangs from your belt. You retrieve a blue bead you’d been meaning to add to your necklace but hand it to him instead as a token, “Tomorrow, I want to know everything.”
“Y/N!?”
“I’m coming,” you yell, you turn to tell him to depart, lest you be seen alone with him but he’s gone.
“What are you doing in there?”
You clear your throat as you come out into the clearing, holding an empty basket, “I needed to cool down, felt dizzy.”
“Aye, bring the handcart in, I got your supper ready to take to your father.”
“Yes’m.”
⏳⏳⏳⏳
It’s the horrific screaming that wakes you, and nearly the entire village, out of sleep that night. The lot of you run outdoors toward the wails until you stop dead in your tracks.
“Egric! My boy!”
Laid on the ground in front of their family home is Egric, a boy you’ve grown up with in the village, dead. The frantic screams belong to his mother who continues to scream for help though there is nothing that could help him now. That much is certain judging by his blackened lips and bleeding ears. It’s the most grotesque way you’ve ever seen someone die.
The entire village stands in shock at how such a healthy man as Egric had come to this. Your eyes fall onto the basket near his hand, spilled over into the darkness out of the sight of others. The same midnight-blue berries you’d eyed earlier rolled out onto the ground around him. Hoseok had been correct in his assumptions after all, and you shiver thinking of how close you’d been to the same fate.
“The berries!” you say louder than you mean to, “It’s the berries!” you point at the ground near Egric, pointing at the round balls strewn about.
Egrics father, bewildered, picks one up to inspect, “These are the wild berries we’ve eaten for years,” he shrugs tearfully. As if to prove his point he brings the berry to his lips and you lunge for him.
“No! Do not eat them!” you scream, slapping them from his hand.
“Y/N!” your father pushes through and pulls you away from the terrified man. “What causes you to believe they’re spoiled?”
…Because Hoseok the Angel nor Demon says they are poison now…
“Earlier I took shelter from the heat in the forest, I saw a similar wild berry bush in the wood but upon coming closer I saw dead animals on the ground under it, I knew something was wrong with the fruit,” you lie.
This seems to appease the crowd, who now murmur amongst themselves in frightened frenzy. Tossing all kinds of berries into the fire pits. Egrics father tosses the murderous berries into a nearby fire as well.
“Call for the priest, God rest his soul,” your father says solemnly, then pulls you away from the crowd.
“Dead animals beneath a berry bush?” your father questions when you’re safely inside your own home.
“Yes.”
“Seems odd, they all died so suddenly. A poison berry is more like to ferment in the belly, days of agonizing gut pain before the mercy of death.”
“It’s what I saw, then seeing the same berries in Egrics basket. It cannot be coincidence,” you continue to lie.
“Suppose it isn’t. Get to bed then, and stay out of the forest tomorrow mind you.”
“Yes papa.”
⏳⏳⏳⏳
The old shrew you farm for takes what feels like ages to leave you to your work in the fields the next day. The topic of Egrics death on everyone’s lips. You hope to see Hoseok again, because the village will mourn Egric the next two days, burying him on the third. The entire village will cease work and study. You won’t be able to get to the forest. You won’t be able to relish in how beautiful and exotic he is.
Finally she departs and you strategically work for the longer hour so as not to be suspicious. When you’re sure she isn’t watching you and that you’re alone, you wander into the wood again.
“Hoseok?” you whisper when you come upon the same bush as the previous day.
“Y/N!” Hoseoks voice is laced with concern as you feel his hands draw you into him. You startle, but ease into his embrace within seconds. Propriety be damned.
“I heard the villagers screaming last night, I had to wait until the village was quiet to sneak into the borders but I could not find your dwelling,” he explains frantically.
“It was Egric,” you sniff, “you were right about the berries. He ate them, and now he’s dead.”
“When my elder returns we’ll eliminate the danger, then you won’t have to be burdened by it. I swear you’ll be safe.”
“Where did this poison come from? Where did you come from? What are you?” you fire off the questions that have been weighing on your heart since seeing Egrics lifeless body.
“I told you I’m from Baekje, and the poison comes from deep within the ground. We aren’t sure what brings it to the surface but we notice it’s prevalence in areas where people settle. It’s almost as if it’s trying to control the population,” he says.
Fine, it feels like nonsense, but it isn’t the question you’re most curious over so you accept the answer.
“And what you are?”
Hoseok sighs, leaning against a tree. “I’m a human Y/N. I just can’t die.”
You blink, “Everyone dies, that’s the way of things.”
Hoseok shakes his head, “Not me. In my 28th year I was selected to drink from the springs in the heart of the Baekje mountains. I’d heard legends my whole life about the magic they possessed, but they were childrens stories. That’s all. As I grew into an adult, the battles between the Three Kingdoms raged and brought devastation to nearly every village, including mine. The Elder Court sought me out after my family was slaughtered, and they led me to the springs, but that was the year 590,” he looks out into the distance. Your eyes widen in disbelief.
“That would mean you’re nearly into a third century of life,” you challenge.
“I didn’t even realize anything about me had changed until years started turning into decades, decades into a century and I never altered. Never aged. Never became ill,” he looks at you, still unbelieving.
Hoseok unsheathes his blade and opens his palm to you, dragging the edge of it across his own flesh. You watch, horrified, as the blood pools and trickles off his hand onto the ground. Yet when he rips a piece of his linen shirt and wipes the blood away, no cut remains.
“This is unnatural,” you shake your head as you back away from him.
“Yes, but yet you remain. You’re special, I knew it from the moment I saw you. You’re unafraid of the unnatural, you won’t turn me in, you’ll keep my secret because you’re kind and curious - and because you feel the same pull between us that I do, don’t you?”
“I…” you do feel it, but your stubbornness is too strong. “I don’t know you, I only just met you-,”
You’re about to begin a long list of reasons why you shouldn’t be anywhere near him but his arms wrap around you and he brushes his lips across yours softly.
“How dare you…” you whisper, your voice so soft and your protest weak.
“How dare I,” he grins, pressing his mouth to yours again, and again. It sets your skin alight, and you feel it everywhere. Hoseok feels it too and has no intention of stopping.
⏳⏳⏳⏳
The days pass, with you and Hoseok always meeting in the forest after your work is completed. You lay together on the mossy ground talking about your drastically different lives. Your hands are always touching, with frequent pause in conversation for kisses.
Ethelred never returns, despite Hoseok having hunted and eliminated The Venome completely by himself, for the first time. He worries about his elder, yet is grateful for the extra time. Three lunar cycles have passed, and he’s spent them with you. It also gives him confidence that he can be on his own, which will make you easier to conceal.
“Will we marry?” you wonder aloud one humid afternoon.
“We will, there are things I need to figure out first though,” he kisses your temple.
“What things?”
“How to make you like me. How to keep you forever,” he answers.
“I don’t want to be like you,” you sigh lazily.
“What?”
“I don’t want to live forever, I just want to love you as long as I can with the time I’m given,” you reply.
“You don’t understand, I have to remain hidden, my kind can’t be found out. I wouldn’t be able to publicly love you unless you too were like me, hidden from the mortals.”
“That sounds lonely,” you roll into him, laying your head on his shoulder.
“It has been, until I met you,” he smiles, “you’ll age and I won’t, you’ll get sick while I remain healthy, you’ll-,”
“I’ll die?” you finish for him, “As I’m meant to.”
“I can’t exist in a world where you no longer live,” he admits, a heavy feeling in his throat at the thought.
“Nonsense. You’ve lived many lifetimes in which I did not exist,” you refute. “I’ll hide with you, but only as I am. I don’t need immortality, I only need you.”
Hoseok wants to convince you but he forgets his words when your lips dust the side of his neck.
“I love you,” he says, “More than I’ve loved anything, I’ll never love anyone as much as I love you.”
You chuckle, a hint of sadness there, “You say that now, but when I’m long gone you’ll find another woman to love.”
“Never. I’ll keep loving you until the sun falls out of the sky,” he promises.
“It’s getting late,” you notice after mention of the sun, “I should go,” you say, kissing him once more. “Tomorrow?”
Hoseok nods, “I will be here.”
Except, he wouldn’t be.
⏳⏳⏳⏳
Hoseok wakes in the middle of the night with a meaty hand clamped over his mouth and the weight of Ethelreds upper body on his chest.
“Quiet, I have only a few seconds to get this out, three members of the court are travelling to our campsite,” he whispers frantically and Hoseoks eyes widen. “I’ve been watching your progress in secret, how you handled the Venome and I know about the girl. I know you told her about our immortality, that was a mistake on your part lad, but they don’t know about it. Not yet.”
Hoseok twists and writhes but Ethelred persists.
“Stop, stop fighting, they draw near and I’m running out of time,” he shushes the younger man. “I won’t tell them about her, I won’t tell them you revealed our deepest secrets - they’d go find her. They would kill her and anyone she’s ever spoken to. They expect us to leave with them, there’s an urgent situation in the Southern forests, that’s why they’re here. Let’s be sure that’s all they know.”
Hoseok pushes him off, “I cannot leave! Not without Y/N!”
Ethelred grabs his shoulders roughly, “You do not have a choice! If you don’t want her dead you walk away with us tonight and act as if you never met her. Then hope we can settle the South quickly and you might see her again one day. Don’t be a fool!” he hisses.
Hoseok doesn’t get a chance to respond, run, or do anything as three Elders descend upon the campsite.
To protect you, Hoseok stays silent as they all pack up and make the grounds look as though they were never there. Tears silently sliding off his face as he tries desperately to stifle his cries.
⏳⏳⏳⏳
Five years pass before Hoseok can safely and confidently travel alone back through the valley where your village lies. His only hope is that you’ve not been married off.
However when he finds himself standing in the charred ashes of where your village once stood, nerves prickling across his body - panic sets in.
It begins as a brisk walk, but when he’s traveled nearly to the next village without a single sign that your people have settled elsewhere, he breaks into a run.
He runs for miles in nearly every direction before he comes across another human being. A small boy lounging in a clearing as he watches his flock.
When the boy finally sees Hoseok it’s too late for him to run. Hoseok grabs him up by the shirt.
“The village East of here, what happened?” he demands in the darkest voice he can muster. The boy silently stares in terror until Hoseok pulls his blade out.
“The Vikings sir, they burnt it to the ground, others too. They’ve murdered thousands,” the boy trembles.
The Danes. Hoseoks heard of their pillaging in quest for land and power.
“The villagers then, where did they go?” he presses.
The boy just stares at him, fear in his eyes.
“I said where did they settle?” he shakes the small boy who begins to weep.
“They did not! There were no survivors m’Lord. The Vikings forced the able-bodied men to their armies, the rest were murdered and the bodies burned!”
“What of the women and children, what of them?” Hoseok chokes.
The boys lower lip trembles, “There were no survivors m’Lord.”
Hoseok releases the boy with a thud as the world spins around him. The boy fights the urge to run and instead elects to share just one more piece of information.
“After the Vikings left, my people carried the remains of those that were slain to the barrow a few hilltops over to give them a true burial. We marked the grave with a large stone, it’s just that way,” he points, “I’m sorry sir.”
Hoseok stands for minutes, hours perhaps, before he begins to wander to the burial site. He finds it easy enough, he brushes his fingers over the stone - the emblem of your people carved sloppily into the abrasive surface.
He chokes out a sob, digging his fingers into the soft, cold ground. He curls into a ball at the base of the stone as he sobs, crying out your name over and over in an agonizing apology. He thought he had time. He thought he’d be able to make you understand why he did what he did that night - he knew you’d hate him for it - he’d been prepared to spend the rest of your life seeking your forgiveness. He never expected your life to already be over. He should have been there to protect you, should’ve never left in the first place.
Now it was too late.
The Present - Portland, ME
You sit still and quiet for several minutes waiting for him to laugh. He doesn’t. In fact you’ve never seen someone look more serious in your life. His eyes are even filled with tears, as if he’s reliving the details of his delusion. You stare at him a few more seconds, then you press your lips together in a tight line as you silently get up, putting your clothes back on.
Oh fuck. Fuck! You just had sex with him. He’s delusional. Of course he is, of course you’d fuck the delusional hot guy on a first fucking date. FUCK!
“I know it’s hard to believe-,” he starts and you let out a cackle. Better to laugh than cry, you think bitterly.
“Yeah, Hoseok, it really is,” you continue to crack. “You’re insane! That’s just…fucking perfect. I fucked a lunatic. Love that for me.”
You shimmy your boots back on and grab your coat.
“Y/N…please! Baby…” he reaches out to you but you jerk away.
“Don’t! Don’t call me baby and don’t touch me,” you snap. “I don’t know what’s crazier Hoseok,” you cross your arms over your chest angrily, “the fact that you made up a story that takes place in fucking midevil times in which I fucking die at the end - or - OR the fact that you seem to fucking believe it!”
“Y/N, please!” he calls out, “let me show you…” he fumbles into the closet pulling out boxes frantically.
“Don’t bother! I don’t want to see anything you have Hoseok. Lose my number, forget we ever met, okay?” your lower lip trembles as you ascend the steps to the deck - you can hear him dressing himself, still tangled up in the sheets you’d made love in earlier. You shudder, disgusted with yourself.
You should’ve listened to Tess. The fact that he “knew” you? Ugh. Red. Fucking. Flag. You knew better than that.
You practically break into a run for your car, then fly out of the lot before he can catch up to you. Your phone begins to ring almost immediately but you silence it. When you come to a stop at the first traffic light you pick it up and hit ‘Block’ before tossing it back into the passenger seat.
You slam through the front door to your apartment, stomping up the steps to your room.
“Y/N? How’d it go?” Tess calls, unsurprisingly still sitting on the couch with her headset on, controller in hand.
“Don’t want to talk about it!” you yell back, voice finally cracking.
You shouldn’t be surprised when Tess barrels up the stairs and follows you into your room but you huff out a frustrated sigh anyways.
“Hey, whoa,” she stops when she sees the embarrassed tears in your eyes, “Are you okay? What did he do? I’ll call the cops, I swear to God if he touched you…” she growls.
“Don’t bother,” you laugh dryly, “nothing happened Tess.” Well - that’s a lie. However, you can - unfortunately - say that nothing happened that you didn’t happily reciprocate.
“Then why are you crying?”
“You were right,” you sigh, “he’s just…not what I thought he would be.”
Tess goes quiet for a few minutes as you flit around gathering up pajamas.
“I can run out and get booze, we can get drunk and watch all three Lord of the Rings…I’ll do my impressions and everything,” she offers. You smile a bit but shake your head.
“I just want to get in the shower, then go to bed and pretend like I’m not a fucking loser, okay? We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
Tess nods and quietly shuts your bedroom door. When you hear the bottom stair creak, signaling she’s back downstairs, you allow yourself to cry.
You had such an unbelievably good feeling about him. You felt so drawn into him, so safe, so at ease. The sex…good God. The sex was emotional and attached and passionate and your insides clench up just thinking about how hot it felt, how bad you wanted it. How stupid can you be?
Very, it turns out, very stupid indeed.
⏳⏳⏳⏳
When you wake, sitting straight up in bed, the clock reads 3:55AM. You remember getting into bed, though you don’t remember falling asleep. The entire world feels as if it’s in slow motion and fuzzy.
Had you even been asleep? You must have been. That’s the only way to explain the lapse in time. You don’t remember dreaming. Don’t know why you’re dripping in sweat. Can’t explain why your heart is racing.
The only thing you do know, the only thing you can think about, is Hoseoks story. Except…it’s not his version of the story that’s playing in your mind right now. It’s your version. You remember everything. How you felt when you met him in the forest that first day, how it felt watching Egrics body laying on the ground. The way your heart broke, turning you into a desolate shell when you realized Hoseok had abandoned you - and everything else that happened in between his absence and the Vikings that burnt your village to the ground. You shudder at the memory, feeling sick.
But you remember much more than that. Like how, in the year 1327, a man approached you while you dried laundry on your familys farm. How he told you he’d seen you in the village, thought you were someone else - someone he used to know and how you fell in love with him almost instantly. In fact you remember every lifetime you’d spent with Jung Hoseok.
You sit, shaking in the bed, as your chest heaves with the weight of all these memories. Your memories with him.
Hoseok.
Like lightning, you throw the blankets off of you, slide into your slippers, and grab your purse as you fly out the door.
You should be grateful that there seem to be zero police out as you speed down the highway, paying very little attention to traffic lights or stop signs. Your tires squeal from slamming the brakes as you pull into the parking lot of the docks, and you don’t even shut the drivers door as you sprint down the wooden walk. Halfway down you lose your shoes, but you still don’t stop, just kick them all the way off so you can keep running. Tears are streaming down your face and you can’t be sure if it’s because of the cold wind whipping your face, or the fact that you’re about to see the love of your existence.
Hoseok sits on the deck of Wendy in the chilly mist, a pint of whiskey in his hand that he’s been sipping on for hours. He hears your steps, of course, and stands on alert as you skid to a halt, your lungs burning, a few feet from his boat - your boat. Of all the names you ever had, you hate that one the most, you think.
“Hobi…” his nickname comes out in a sob.
His own eyes swell with tears as a broad smile spreads across his face, “Oh my love, there you are.”
You leap over the side of the boat and he catches you in his arms.
“I’m so sorry!” you continue to sob into his shoulder as he holds you close.
“Shhh, shhh. We’re together now, that’s all that matters,” he soothes.
“I love you,” you pull his face to yours, unbothered by how cold and wet from tears it is.
“I love you too, so much, until the sun falls out of the sky,” he smiles.
Folly Beach, SC - 2032
The sun feels magnificent on your skin as you and Hobi sit on the pier, listening to the ocean hitting the shore, lapping at the wooden beams.
You had been sailing the East Coast, and stopped here for a few days due to a predicted storm. Right now however, it was crystal clear.
“It’s quiet here, compared to some of the other beaches,” you comment, sipping a fruity drink as Hoseok maps out the rest of your route.
“Mmm. I like it, probably busy in the Summer. Seems perfect right now though,” he agrees.
“We should buy a beach house,” you sigh, tilting your face up to the warm sun.
“Would you like that? I wouldn’t mind, you know I love the water,” he nods.
“Which beach though? They can be so busy, noisy,” you reason out loud.
“Let’s buy our own,” he shrugs, marking a point of interest on his atlas.
You laugh, “Why not? How about a private island even?” you tease.
“That could be fun.”
“I was kidding.”
“I’m not,” he looks at you devilishly, “that way we can’t bother any neighbors when you scream my name.”
“Mm, call it the exhibitionist in me but, I kind of enjoy the thought of people hearing,” you place your hand on his thigh beneath the table you’re sitting at, “Want to know a secret?”
Hobi licks his lips as he nods.
You lean close to his ear, “I’m not wearing anything under this sundress.”
“Get up,” Hoseok commands. Quickly ushering you down the pier.
“I thought we were going to get an ice cream?” you half-whine.
“Only if I can let it drip onto that tight fucking pu-,”
“Hoseok!” you scold him with a laugh.
“…then lick it out,” he finishes, closer to your ear.
“Are we going back to the boat then?”
“Mmhmm.”
⏳⏳⏳⏳
You look over the top of the book you’re reading at Hoseok, who’s leaving a wet trail of kisses up the inside of your thigh.
“Again?”
“It’s your fault,” he mumbles against the fleshiest bit of your thigh, “you decided not to put your clothes back on.”
You drop the book with a chuckle, “How dare I.”
You listen to the thunder roll, the rain hitting the deck above you as Hobi licks your cunt with the tip of his tongue.
You bury your hands in his hair, bucking up to his mouth a bit, however, instead of pulling him into your slit further, you gently tug him up.
“Fuck me,” you request - and Hoseok never denies you.
You flip onto your stomach, lifting your backside and gently laying your face against the mattress.
Hoseok bites his lip as he positions himself behind you, grabbing a handful of your ass in each palm.
“What did I ever do to deserve you, hm?”
“Idunno,” you grin, “slap it.”
His palm comes down fast and strikes your backside. You suck in a breath as his fingers dip down and rub your clit.
“Ready?” he asks and you nod frantically.
When you’d returned from the pier earlier that afternoon, the sex had been slower, peaceful even. This time, with the rocking vessel and raging storm outside, Hoseok fucks into you relentlessly. His steady hips are sharp, quick, and frantic as he grips your sides so he can pull himself flush into your pussy.
You groan with every thrust, fisting the soft pillows roughly. He continues, occasionally smacking his palm on the fullness of your ass.
“I’m close, just a little faster, please,” you cry.
“Come for me, my pretty little whore, let me feel it,” he growls.
“Oh god…” you push against him as your legs stiffen, your cunt contracts rhythmically around his length.
“Good girl,” he gasps, his own orgasm peaking as well.
You both collapse on the bed, panting. He recovers quickly enough, and although it rarely crosses your mind at present - the pressing fact at the back of your mind surfaces as he springs up effortlessly.
“What?” he asks at your intent stare as he shimmies back into his underwear.
“Will you still want to call me your pretty little whore when I’m old?”
“Oh hush,” he rolls his eyes, “I’ll want you always. You know this.”
“I won’t always look like this, I’ve already passed you in age.”
“Uh, I was born in the 6th century. I’m older than almost everything that exists my love,” he laughs.
“Yes, but you won’t ever look older than 28, you lucky thing,” you chuckle but it does make you feel embarrassed. What will people think when your twenty-eight year old husband is pushing your wheelchair around?
“Hey, what do we always say? Don’t worry about the future, we’ll figure it out. Just worry about today,” he leans down and kisses you tenderly. “Worry about what you’ll feed me for supper, I’m hungry,” he pouts his lower lip out and you can’t help but crack up.
“I think we can scrounge something up in here. I’m not going out in this weather,” you tell him, “Let’s do lunch tomorrow at that little bistro in the plaza near the pier. It smelled delicious when we walked by earlier.”
“Anything you want, baby.”
⏳⏳⏳⏳
The next day at lunch you sit, bellies full, enjoying the cooler temperature the storm left in its wake.
“I think we could spend a few more days here, then sail out on Friday. Looks like perfect conditions,” Hobi looks up at you from his phone.
“Sounds good to me.”
Hoseok is about to add something when two men across the Plaza start belligerently yelling at one another. You purse your lips as they shove each other around, screaming profanities, and grabbing the attention of other diners and shoppers.
Hoseok rolls his eyes, “Classy.”
“Gotta love the South,” you laugh.
Hoseok smirks as he tosses more than enough cash on the table, so you don’t have to wait for the waiter to return to get the hell out of there.
Suddenly, several people start screaming as one of the men draws a handgun from the back of his jeans.
“Holy shit,” you exclaim.
“Get your bag, hurry,” Hoseok shields you as you both try to escape the plaza, the fight escalating past just two stupid rednecks now.
When the gun goes off, Hoseok pushes you to the ground, throwing himself on top of you. People start screaming louder and running in all directions. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the two men disperse, probably knowing law enforcement will now be showing up.
He rolls off you, about to stand when he feels the front of his shirt soaked. He looks down and a magnificently red stain causes the fabric to stick to his stomach.
“Hobi…” your voice is barely a squeak as his mind catches up to the moment, and he watches as a similar red strain grows across your own clothes, pooling beneath you as your body shakes.
“Oh God, Y/N,” Hoseok chokes. He lifts your shirt but there’s so much blood he can’t pin point where the bullet hit. No, not again, please not again.
“Hoseok…” your voice is laced with fear now.
“Shh, Y/N, shh, it’s okay. You’re okay baby,” he pushes his forehead against yours, “It’s going to be okay.”
You nod, tears pooling and slipping down the sides of your face into your hair line.
“Help! Someone help us!” Hoseok screams into the crowd. “Please!”
You sputter beneath him, and he presses his hand into what he hopes is your wound, to stop the bleeding.
“I’m so sleepy,” you slur, eyes rolling back into your lids as they flutter shut.
“No! No, no, no! HELP ME!” he screams again, “Baby, please, please don’t close your eyes. Please don’t leave. Don’t leave me, Y/N, don’t leave me again, please,” he begs through the sobbing.
“Someone help me!” he yells louder, his body heaves with wails as he feels the life drain from you, his hand is soaked in blood trying to keep you with him.
Suddenly the world around him goes silent, and he looks up to see it totally still. No one moving, no one talking, everything only looks frozen. He blinks rapidly, completely sure he’s now hallucinating - God, he hopes he is and this is all a nightmare.
“Jung Hoseok,” a voice manifests behind him and he swivels around, hands refusing to leave your pale, lifeless body.
He blinks a few times, he’s not sure what he’s looking at, or maybe who? It’s not a man, or a woman – not a creature he’s ever seen. Yet it’s beautiful, hauntingly so, and it makes him uneasy and uncomfortable.
“Who are you?”
“Different people call me different names, it doesn’t matter though, who I am. That is not as important as who you are,” it says, it’s voice sounds like different wind chimes all blowing around at once. It then looks down at your corpse, “It is not as important as who she is.”
“Can you help her? Please?” he begs.
“I can,” it replies, “I can fix her, like this never happened. I can make it so.”
“Then please, please do it, I’m begging you,” he cries.
“I’ll need your help,” it goes on.
“Anything, I’ll do anything,” he says without hesitation.
“If I erase this moment, then I erase the last several years too. I make it so she never knows you, and you must agree to stay away from her in this lifetime, and in every lifetime after,” it explains softly.
A new wave of tears fall from his eyes as he chokes out a sob. He places his bloody hand over yours.
“I can’t,” he cries, “I love her.”
“Then look at her Hoseok,” it gestures to your body, and he flinches, “Look at your love and know that every time you enter her life, you cut it short, you cause this.”
“No,” he sobs, shutting his eyes tight, his head shaking back and forth.
“Did you know that she’s so very special? Did you know that I’ve seen every life she’s ever lived and every life she ever will live and I know, for a fact, that she is always meant to live a long, happy life?” it asks and Hoseok looks up into its eyes. “The only time she doesn’t is when you intervene.”
Hoseok rests his head on yours, his body heaving with sobs.
“If you truly love her, then you need to stay away from her so she can live the lives she was meant to.”
“How do I know you’re not just lying to keep me away from her?” he demands.
“You’re an immortal Hoseok, you can check in on her anytime and see for yourself – as long as you keep your distance from her.”
“Why?” he sobs, “Why can’t we just be together?” he demands cruelly.
“Nature requires balance Hoseok, and your existence already upsets that balance,” it looks back down to you, “but her existence - while unique - does not upset it. You placing yourself in her life repeatedly, lifetime after lifetime, rips holes into natures balance and I can no longer allow it.”
“So you are from the Elder Court?” he accuses.
It shakes its head, “No. I’m much older than the Elder Court could ever dream to be, and I do not answer to them. I’m time Hoseok, that’s the simplest way I can put it. I am the past, present and future - and I am trying to save her.”
Hoseok looks down at you, dead on the ground, surrounded by your own blood. Your eyes are lightless, looking at nothing, yet somehow they bare into his very soul.
You never deserved this and he never deserved anything as good as you more than once. He knows what has to be done. He kneels over and kisses your cheek, already growing colder, and a new wave of tears spill down his face onto yours.
He finally nods, “Alright. I’ll let her go,” he promises, though he can barely get the words out between painful cries.
The creature stands up and Hoseok follows.
“Come,” it extends its hand to him and the moment he touches it, he’s blinded by white light. Simultaneously, a sharp pain immobilizes him, and it is more excruciating than any pain he’s ever felt, he wonders if he’s finally dying.
The Present - Portland, ME
“Did you need a place to sit?” you ask the handsome man holding a coffee in his hand, standing over your table. He seems so familiar…
Hoseok looks around the crowded café bewildered, then back down at you. The creature is nowhere to be seen. His clothes are different, there’s no blood anywhere. Also, you’re alive. You look as beautiful as ever as you smile politely up at him. Everything is the same as it was that first day you met him in the café. Except…He looks at the plastic lidded cup in his hand and smiles sadly, his eyes stinging with wet tears.
“No,” his voice cracks and he clears his throat, “No thank you. I got mine to go,” he holds up the plastic cup. The only difference from that day, a subtle change in cups, but a clear message from the creature who called itself Time.
“Oh, alright, well,” you smile awkwardly, “Have a good day then.”
“You too,” he forces a smile, “Have a wonderful day.”
He turns towards the exit and adds, under his breath to be sure you can’t hear, “goodbye, my love.”
T H E E N D
Endnotes:
(1) I’ve been writing this story for a long time. When I finally ended it - I had no clue what to do with it, so I made this account so I could start anonymously posting fanfiction. That’s why my Tumblr is empty, save for this. More to come, I hope lol.
(2) This story was inspired by: this YouTube Video (seriously their content is so neat); a bit of 11/22/63 by Stephen King; a little bit of A Great & Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray; tons of odd and outlandish theories about immortality and soulmates I’ve heard through the years.
(3) Title board was created by me using design apps I have on my phone, and images I found online that were usable under Title 17.1.107 of US Code.
pairing: jeon jungkook x reader
genre: fluff
rating: g
word count: -
tags/warnings: a list compiled of all the fluffy things i’ve made up about jk and forced upon my bestie while she was out here visiting me (and more…)
a/n: for @btsroyalwilds, thanks for spending the last three weeks with me. i’m going to pretend i’m not sad about you leaving. can’t wait ‘til we can sing our lungs out at a bts concert together one day~
- he would have a folder on his phone named, ‘pics my baby took,’ & they would be candid pics you’ve taken of jungkook when he was either sleeping or not paying attention that you sent to him later
- make a highlights reel on ig just for you and it would have a ♥︎ for its title
- he would pull you by the strings of your hoodie to bring you to him just so he can kiss you or hug you (giggling while he was doing it)
