#and they sat there the entire day stringing them together

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

A Danish Werewolf in The City

The First Taste - final chapter.

Note: the last chapter has arrived. Thank you to those who have been devouring (haha) this fic, it's been entirely my pleasure! Once again thank you to @foxyanon for helping me out as I attempted my first monster fucking smut. I hope it was worth the wait...

previous chapters: part 1 - part 2 - part 3.1 - part 3.2

Pairing: werewolf!Sihtric x you (f)

Warnings: 18+, horror fic. Smut, monster fucking, and hey, what's a werewolf without some fluff?

Wordcount: 3,6k

Masterlist

The Moon was full, glowing orange as she peeked through the trees and your half open window. The cool breeze ruffled faintly through Sihtric's dark hair as he towered over you, with his mismatched eyes fixated on your being and his pearly white fangs exposed in a snarl. He had climbed in through your bedroom window, again, leaving claw marks on the walls and ripping your curtains to shreds by accident… again.

Sihtric stared down at you, with parts of ripped clothes dangling from his black fur, thick strings of drool dripping out his parted lips while a low growl began to sound from the back of his throat. It was a frightening sight; those big hairy and pointy ears twitching at sounds you couldn't even hear, and his long whiskers moving along with his glistening nose as he inhaled your scent deeply. His big and feral eyes were fixated on you while you were scarcely dressed and sat upon your bed, as you had half expected him to appear.

You watched him shift smoothly, showing you his human traits while he was still larger than any human could possibly be. Dark hair covered his incredibly muscular body, while his now human shaped ears were still pointy, and his human hands were large and hairy with long nails shaped like claws. He was a beast and yet still a man. A man you loved and a beast you desired.

And when you leaned back on your elbows, slowly spreading your legs for him and teasingly pulling up your nightgown to reveal you weren't wearing any panties, the wolf-man dragged the tip of his large tongue across his sharp teeth, like a hungry beast…

The day after you had met Sihtric at the pub he called you to confess what he had been doing during those months you weren't together. Your silence on the other side of the line was deafening to him once he had told you everything; from hunting and killing dozens of vampires to him lurking around your house at night, he didn't shy away from the truth anymore.

'I knew you were there,' you answered, 'I know I heard you outside my window some nights, hoping to see you again. But I never saw you…'

The relief Sihtric felt when you told him his behaviour was more or less understandable was a feeling he never thought he'd experience. A weight fell off his shoulders and it seemed as if he could breathe freely again. He promised he was done hunting vampires, as most of them had actually been slaughtered by him anyway, and he invited you to stop by his place the next day, so he could show you he was really not that same beast anymore as he had allowed himself to be when he was grieving the abruptly ended relationship.

You met Sihtric while he was fixing up his shed the next afternoon. And what should have been harrowing to see, the knock-off electric chair with the metal chains attached to it to restrain him, wasn't quite as daunting as you had pictured when he told you about his enclosure on the phone. Surely it wasn't normal to have this in your backyard, but you weren't freaked out by it like you would have been several months ago, after your research you simply understood him and appreciated the fact he did everything he could to keep himself and others safe. 

Sihtric explained the restraining process to you as he attached a few brand new chains to the ceiling, and you helped clean up the place once he was done. Light touches lingered and you were both quietly tormented by butterflies each time you looked at each other, you just didn't know how to proceed after everything that had happened. And Sihtric, being the monstrous werewolf that he was, was also as shy as a human man could possibly be, so you knew it was up to you to make the first move if you wanted to see where this could lead to.

'So,' you cleared your throat as you were ready to depart, embraced in a hug, 'you're not asking me to stay for dinner?' you half joked.

'I would,' Sihtric chuckled nervously as he looked at you, 'except, I'm having the guys from my pack over tonight, and we're eating wild rabbits. Store bought,' he added quickly, 'but I know you like your fluffy bunnies, so I wouldn't… you know, do that to you.'

'You really are a monster,' you laughed and shook your head, 'a human monster.'

'A human monster is still a monster,' Sihtric smiled faintly, and he slowly drew his lower lip between his teeth as he looked down into your eyes, arms still around you, 'but perhaps we could meet tomorrow? I have all day since I'm still on temporary leave, I just need to be home by nine in the evening.'

'Nine in the evening?' you snorted, 'you're not on house arrest are you?' you jested and checked his ankle for a monitor, to which he laughed and rolled his eyes.

'No, I'm not on house arrest. The full Moon,' Sihtric hinted, earning a soft chuckle from you that set his heart ablaze so easily.

'Of course. I'm sorry, how could I forget. We can meet up tomorrow. And,' you smirked, 'since I helped you with your shed-'

'Helped me with my shed?' Sihtric raised his eyebrow, 'you just watched how I fixed it up and you only helped by swiping a corner, and even barely!'

'Barely help is still help,' you shrugged, 'however, maybe you could help me with fixing up the paint you scratched at? I mean, not to be rude, but that clearly was your doing, so…'

'Yeah, yeah,' he laughed, knowing very well what he had done, 'sure, I'll help you out with that.'

He kissed your cheek before you left, and you both fought the urge to overwhelm each other with text messages throughout the night as you spent it apart.

And Sihtric was as loyal as a pup, stopping by the next afternoon to help paint the outside of your house, as promised, thus covering up the claw marks he had left which looked like the strangest kind of damage to any other person. After you had rekindled over the past few days, Sihtric was feeling more confident again, and you began to see glimpses of the playful man he was before you had witnessed those horrors in the woods. Once again touches and smiles lingered, while you bestowed each other with bad jokes and flirty remarks throughout the day as you painted your house.

You both felt a weird sense of relief once it was covered, and stood next to each other as you looked at the result while the paint dried. It was already getting late when you were gathering the tools left scattered on your lawn, and Sihtric suddenly circled his arm around you, pulling you flush against him before you could even blink.

'You know,' he smiled and took your chin with his tattooed fingers, 'a pretty lady like you shouldn't let a foul creature of the night just climb through her window and into the bedroom. Do you even know what sort of monsters are out there?'

'Oh,' you chuckled as you played along, 'I appreciate your concern, kind sir, and I'll definitely keep it in mind.'

'You better,' Sihtric said with a smirk and winked. 

Which was the reason for you to drop everything you held in your arms. You grabbed his face, cupping his cheek with one hand whilst the other moved up into his dark curls as your lips crashed together in a long awaited heated kiss. A kiss that had been held off for far too long now, a kiss you had both been desperate for. You lost yourself in each other's taste and scent and touch while you stood there, fully embraced in the early dusk, and it didn't take long before you started to tug at each other's close and ended up stumbling over, landing on the grass beneath your feet, on top of Sihtric, and you kissed until your lungs burned and begged for air.

'Will you stay the night?' you breathed against his lips as he held you tightly pressed against his strong body.

'I shouldn't,' Sihtric murmured and kissed you greedily again, 'I want to, darling, I really do. But… the Moon,' he said with a hint of sadness, 'it changes me and it's the only night I can't stop it.'

'I know,' you sighed and rested your forehead on his chest, before you looked up at him again, 'but… you know, if you change your mind,' you hinted with a sly smile.

Sihtric laughed, 'Surely you don't want a werewolf in your bed.'

'Hm… maybe I do,' you shrugged, finally speaking your newfound curiosity out loud.

Sihtric chuckled but his face became serious once he understood you weren't joking around. He had sensed the change in you, but he was cautious as he was still more than terrified to lose you once more, now that he had earned you back in his arms again.

'Are you for real? You'd… you'd want to…'

'What if I would?'

'Well,' Sihtric scoffed and smiled lightly as he looked a little puzzled, 'there's no, you know… I mean, hey, I'm not against it, but there are no werewolf sized condoms. And I'm sure in all your research you've read about werewolf pregnancy, and that for a human it's-'

'Lethal,' you finished his sentence, 'yes, I'm aware of that. But,' you smiled as you seductively ran your hand down his chest, 'you forget that I'm on birth control. And I've read that your… load is still human-like, even when shifted. So it would be safe.'

'Huh,' Sihtric scoffed and then laughed, as he had never really thought about that. But he knew you were right. 'Okay, but… are you not repulsed by my werewolf form?' he asked cautiously, still worried you'd be frightened by his appearance once again.

'Your werewolf form is freaky, for sure,' you admitted, 'but your wolf-man form is kinda… eh, sexy. I mean, you're not a full wolf when you shift into a wolf-man. There are mainly human traits I can see then, and you can still talk as a human too. But when you fully shift there's no trace of you anymore as you're just a black wolf, with only your eyes betraying you. And your full wolf form makes me feel safe, I remember you made me feel safe that night. But… as a werewolf, well, more as a wolf-man,' you shrugged with a shy smile, 'I think you might have awoken something in me I didn't realise at first.'

'And… you think you could handle me at my werewolf?' he asked with a cocky smile.

'I think I could handle you at your wolf-man,' you grinned.

Sihtric opened his mouth to speak, but his phone suddenly rang and interrupted the pleasantly tense moment. He sighed as he switched off the alarm he had set, and he apologised that he really had to leave, for it was getting late.

'I should head back home now, the moon will rise soon,' he whispered and kissed your lips, 'I'm sorry, baby.'

'I know,' you murmured, 'just be safe, darling.'

'I will be, I promise,' Sihtric smiled and kissed your cheek, 'I'll see you tomorrow.'

'Or tonight,' you taunted, 'if, you know, you'd want to…'

'Okay, little red riding hood,' Sihtric laughed as he walked off your lawn, 'hey,' he then said as he turned to face you again, 'don't go out tonight, okay? It's not safe.'

'I know,' you agreed and ran over for one last hug, 'are you sure you can't stay?'

'Don't tempt me.'

You smiled, then kissed him and bit his lower lip softly before you took a step back while he held your hands.

'I said don't tempt me,' Sihtric flashed a mischievous smile, 'because you don't know what you're in for.'

For a while, Sihtric wasn't sure if he'd act on your suggestion to stop by when the Moon was full that night. He was more than hungry to explore your newfound desires and curiosity to his beast-like form, but the fear of frightening you away from him once again weighed heavy on his mind. He considered restraining himself, as planned, in an attempt to restore the balance inside of him, but his urge to be with you grew stronger with each passing second as the Moon crept up in the sky. And his animalistic behaviour took full control before the Moon was even at its peak. 

He shifted as he was unchained inside his shed, ripping out of his clothes while snapping out of his skin to transform into his hauntingly huge werewolf form. His beastly desires guided him, and he soon made his way to your house, running through the night on all fours with an inhumanly fast pace. He snarled while his mouth watered at the thought of tasting you again, and his loud howl sounded eerily through the night as if it was rutting season already once he reached your residence. He caught the scent of your arousal as he stalked around your property, and it drove him mad with lust while he made sure you were alone.

Parts of his torn clothes still dangled in his fur as he climbed his way up to your windowsill, his claws shredding your new curtains as he snuck inside your room. You stared at Sihtric as his werewolf form towered over you, and soon he shifted in front of your eyes. A shift that took all of Sihtric's strength, as the full Moon always made him transform involuntarily, but he knew you would only let him have you if he was more human-like. 

You watched him shift smoothly, showing his human traits while he was still larger than any human could possibly be. Dark hair decorated his incredibly muscular body, while his human shaped ears were still pointy and his human hands large and hairy with his long nails shaped like claws. He was a beast and yet still a man. A man you loved and a beast you desired…

His muzzle transformed back into Sihtric's beautiful face, and upon the sight of you spreading your legs, his eyes began to glow. When you leaned back on your elbows and slowly spread your legs for him, teasingly pulling up your nightgown, he dragged the tip of his large tongue across his sharp teeth, like a hungry beast… and hungry he was. You felt a rush of adrenaline shoot through your body as you looked at him, knowing the wild looking wolf-man was there with only one purpose; to breed you.

Sihtric knelt down at the end of your bed and grabbed your ankles with his warm and large hands. He pulled you effortlessly towards him, throwing your legs over his broad and hairy shoulders, and he locked his strong werewolf-like arms tightly around your hips. You couldn't possibly escape his grip, and you shuddered with anticipation as you felt his hot breath against your already exposed folds. He teased you first, kissing and licking your thighs painstakingly slowly, taking his time to taste your flesh as he dragged his teeth over your skin. You murmured soft pleads, desperately wanting more, and once he delved his tongue between your folds to devour you entirely, you lost all dominance of your being. 

Your legs trembled uncontrollably when feeling the slow and deep strokes of his large and broad tongue, while his teeth lightly grazed your sensitive skin, constantly reminding you that you were being pleased by a supernatural creature, by a beast.

You arched your back at the intense sensations Sihtric gave you, and you placed one hand across your mouth in a futile attempt to muffle your moans, while you gripped the sheets tightly with your other. His large arms had you locked in with his claws pressing onto your skin. And everytime your body jerked out of pleasure he held you tighter, making sure you couldn't squirm out of his grip as he consumed you like a starved beast, his hair pleasantly tickling between your thighs while lapping your core. Your head was spinning as you pushed yourself up your elbows again, looking down at Sihtric and finding his eyes glowing brightly while he looked up at you as he made you near your high. He watched you fall apart before him, and didn't stop until your moans had died down. He looked at you, pleased and satisfied as he licked his lips while your juices still coated his facial hair.

You tried to move further up the bed as you were lightheaded, with your legs weak and trembling, but the wolf-man wasn't quite done with you. He smoothly climbed onto your bed, and his claws sunk into your mattress as he crawled slowly towards you, flexing his huge muscles beautifully while ripping your sheets fortuitously.

'You're not going anywhere,' Sihtric purred as he mounted you, and brought his face close to yours, 'my little red riding hood.'

He pinned your arms above your head, and you felt so small yet so safe under his impressive form. He held your wrists with just one of his massive hands, while his other wrapped around your throat as he smiled devilishly.

'I warned you,' Sihtric whispered against your lips, 'to not let any creatures of the night into your room. But you didn't listen, did you?' he chuckled darkly, 'and now… a big bad wolf has caught you. And he won't let go until you're fully bred.'

His sharp teeth made a slight cut in your lip as he kissed you hungrily, and a low growl sounded as he tasted your blood in his mouth while his tongue was inside yours. He proceeded to kiss your neck, flicking his large tongue against your skin in between kisses while he lined his large and hard cock up with your entrance. A silent gasp left your lips as he entered you with ease while stretching you brutally with his size, yet it was strangely pleasant all the same. He didn't give you any time to adjust, knowing your slick would soothe the burning sensation soon enough as he vigorously rutted into you, fucking you like a feral beast while grunting and growling heavily in your ear.

He tossed you around the bed as he had his way with you, your moans and cries for more only making him further aroused and wanting to breed you for hours on end. Which is exactly what he did, filling you with his seed over and over again, until you were completely ruined with tears staining your cheeks as you smiled at him with dazed eyes. And as soon as his beast side was satisfied, his human side made him feel ashamed for letting himself go like that.

Sihtric was fast to shift into his daunting werewolf form after he had pulled out, growing back his ears and muzzle along with his bushy tail. And he quickly picked you up in his huge arms, pressing you against his furry chest while he laid down on your bed, keeping you snug against him as you dozed off in his warm and comforting embrace.

You were safe.

The next morning you woke up, feeling absolutely wrecked but happier than ever when you found Sihtric sleeping next to you in his human form. You cuddled up closer, wanting to pull the sheets over his naked body, but you discovered they were shredded once again. You sighed with a soft chuckle, which woke him up, and he rubbed his eyes before he gave you a shy smile.

'Who knew the big bad wolf could be so shy after his deeds?' you smiled.

Sihtric hid his face in the crook of your neck while his hand moved up into your hair, and he then gently forced your lips to his, capturing you in a soft and sweet kiss.

'How do you feel?' he asked, his voice raspy.

'Wrecked,' you snorted, 'and sore…'

'Sorry,' Sihtric smiled sheepishly.

'Don't be. I asked for it, didn't I?' you laughed, then became serious again, 'but… so… can we make this a monthly thing then, or…?'

Sihtric laughed, pleasantly surprised you weren't freaked out by the night before, and he shrugged.

'Do you want it to become a monthly thing?'

'Yeah,' you confessed shyly, 'if you want it too?'

'Of course I do,' Sihtric chuckled, 'you don't know how good it feels to release that… that tension.'

'Well,' you giggled, 'I sure know how good it felt to me.'

You looked at him and slowly traced the scars on his face with your fingers, a gesture which made Sihtric become silent and feel vulnerable, for you weren't afraid of him and his past anymore. He sensed it, he felt it, and he loved it.

'I love you,' you whispered.

'And I love you,' he whispered, 'mine?'

'Yours,' you said with a nod, and you kissed his lips once more, 'but you have to stop destroying my curtains and the sheets, please.'

'The curtains?' he frowned and looked over at your window, finding them ruined, 'yeah, sorry about that. And sorry for the sheets.'

Sihtric swallowed hard and pulled you in for a tight hug, in an attempt to not make you wonder if he had left new claw markings on the outside of your freshly painted house, because he had, but he wasn't going to tell you yet.

'Sihtric?' you whispered against his neck as he held you.

'Hm?'

'I love you… in every form.'

taglist: @foxyanon @alexagirlie @sihtricsafin @neonhairspray @gemini-mama

@lexwolfhale @sigtryggrswifey @skyofficialxx @djarinsgirl27 @m-a-s-h-k-a

@verenahx @mrsarnasdelicious @diiickbrainn @little-diable @maii777

@urmomsgirlfriend1 @dixie-elocin @elle4404 @bubblyabs @ylvie50

@hb8301 @willowbrookesblog @apolloanddaphnis @jennifer0305

@carnationworld @justanother-sihtricgirlie @stark-head @reidsbookstore @thenameswinter99

@deathbluestar113 @ladyinred2248 @zaldritzosrose @maryelle-cats @penumbrie

@solinarimoon @thatawkwardlittlefangirl

if you want to be added to/deleted from the taglist, message me 🖤

#sihtric kjartansson #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #the last kingdom #sihtric #tlk #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #tlk au #sihtric au #werewolf #werewolf fic #horror fic

[hyunverse]

wherever you are ☆ hwang hyunjin.

hyunjin x fem!reader. childhood best friends to lovers. slowburn, pining. fluff, angst. suggestive. a hyunjin birthday special.

wc: 12.9k words.

warnings: reader often referred to as "girl," suggestive. mentions of sex.

note: this fic is my baby. it might be one of my favourite things i've ever written so far, please treat it well <3 feedbacks are very much appreciated.

playlist.

Hyunjin promised you that he'll be wherever you are. What do you do when your best friend of years — the only person you've ever loved disappears without saying goodbye? Especially when you've spent your entire life with Hyunjin, you didn't know of life without him.

one.

“Happy Birthday, Hyunjin.”

It was Hyunjin’s 10th birthday. 

Despite already singing him a happy birthday song, you muttered the wish once again in the comfort of his tree house. He sat adjacent to you, feet dangling over the platform, the large leaves hovering over the tree house’s roof providing shelter from the blinding sunlight. 

He hummed in gratitude, eyes busy watching Kkami running around below the tree house. Afternoons with Hyunjin were often spent like this — hanging out in the tree house as Kkami played around on the grass, its barks mirroring its happiness. For years, you’ve spent enjoying the fact that your afternoons were spent like this — were spent with Hyunjin, in childish innocence. 

After letting the silence take over for a while, Hyunjin turned his head towards you, a little surprised once he saw that you were already looking at him. He tried his best to not let his surprise show. 

“Why did you want to come up here? I thought you were enjoying the party inside.” 

Indeed, you were enjoying the birthday party, a little too much for Hyunjin’s liking. The boys from Hyunjin’s school came to the party, and you seemed to get along with them quickly, despite being the only girl at the party. Hyunjin hates to admit it but he was a little envious. He told himself that he’s jealous because he’s your number one best friend, so you should pay more attention to him. It was true, but only partially — he was jealous because they were all boys. Not that he would ever admit that to himself.

To Hyunjin’s question, you responded by extending your arms to him, revealing a white box in your palm. He took it, quickly recognizing it as a jewellery box. He’s received one of them after purchasing a Mother’s Day gift. Quietly, he examined the engravings on the box, and the pristine look of it. Honestly, he was impressed by how clean you have kept it. You had always been one to dirty your white clothes. 

“What’s this?” he asked, answering his own enquiry by opening the box with you sitting close, peering over his hands.

Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat.

In the box laid two necklaces, black strings with Lego pieces as pendants. They were matching necklaces. The Lego piece of each necklace formed a heart when joined together. His brown eyes widened, in disbelief of the gift. He’s never received something like this — something matching. It made his heart flutter — no, it beat faster than it does while playing soccer. Hyunjin turned to look into your eyes, and it was as though he had found a new revelation in yours. The more Hyunjin looked at you, the more the realization seeped in, until it overtook his senses.

You’re a girl. 

You weren’t just the kid from next door, you weren’t like his other friends — you’re a girl. You like Disney princesses, you have a pretty face, you like Sanrio characters, you have soft hair, you like painting nails, you have pink lips from your strawberry lip balm, you like matching necklaces — you’re a girl. 

A very pretty girl.

It felt like a revelation after having been friends with you for over five years. As though the necklaces in the box held some sort of power to snap one from a trance. Hyunjin realized that you were different from his other friends. For one, you have softer hands. Moreover, you’re someone he can develop a crush on — or whatever girls call it. 

His finger traced the pendants, feeling the bumps of the Lego pieces. He smiled, one that reached his ears. You felt yourself releasing the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

“I love it soooo much. Thank you.”

Unlike other boys (the stinky ones from your school), Hyunjin didn’t cringe at the gift. The way he gently examined the necklaces mirrored the appreciation he felt towards it. If he was any other boy, he would’ve probably laughed at the gift, then poked fun at you. 

Then again, Hyunjin had never been like the other boys you knew.

He was different in the way he spoke softly to you (softer than he would to his guy friends), and how he would let you change the TV channel from Snoopy to Totally Spies. He had always been different, that being the reason why you were so fond of him. 

“You like it? Really?” you queried, staring at him. You watched his expressions carefully, trying to sense for any lies.

“Really! Which one do you want?” he answered, absolutely no hesitations. He wasn’t lying.

Hyunjin panned the box towards you, prompting you to pick which necklace. One was in black, the other in white. As always, he gave in to you, letting you be the one to choose. 

“White!”

The sun was setting when you both swayed your legs, wearing the matching necklaces. Hyunjin was genuinely happy, one of his hands wouldn’t stop fiddling with the pendant. The party was still lively inside, but he much preferred sitting with you — his one and only best friend. 

“Yn,” your best friend’s voice broke you from your trance. “What do you want for your birthday?” 

“Hm,” you pondered, tapping your pointer on your chin in a cartoonish manner.

He was looking at you, an expectant expression on his face. You pulled up your legs to cross them as you thought. 

“I think…” your voice trailed, “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!” 

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “at least make it something I could give you!”

You pouted, “but that’s what I want!” 

The boy sighed, laying back on the rough surface of the tree house. He looked up, observing the little glow-in-the-dark stars plastered onto the tree house ceiling. He recalled putting them up with you. You were impossible to deal with. Hyunjin desperately wanted to know your wish — something he could give you for your birthday. Your gift to him made him really happy, and he wished to return the favour. 

“Then, I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris with you.” 

It was such an innocent, child-like answer — straight from a 10-year-old’s desire. Untainted by the boulevard of broken dreams. As if anything in the world was possible, and that the universe was kind all the time. 

“Really?” you chirped, looking at him with disbelief in your eyes. You giggled in glee and plopped yourself down beside him. “Really really? You really really really mean it, Hyunnie?” 

At that point, Hyunjin could only giggle and nod. “Of course! I’ll be wherever you are.”

The manner in which you hugged him expressed your excitement. You were practically suffocating him, wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing tightly. 

“You’re my best friend in the world!” 

Hyunjin felt like he could die. 

His heart continued beating rapidly, worsened by you nuzzling your face into his neck. Hyunjin knew, it was just you being your usual self. However, the revelation he experienced minutes earlier made the tips of his ears turn red. 

“Hyunjin! Come down here! Your friends are about to leave!”

At that very moment, Hyunjin silently thanked his mother for saving him.

two.    

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

A question which had you staring into space — the walls of Hyunjin’s bedroom for a while. The blue walls were plastered with posters of numerous musicians and self-made artworks.

It wasn’t that you didn’t know the answer. You knew. Ballet had been a part of your life since small, it was your everything. It wasn’t that you were unsure if you wanted to do ballet, you were unsure if you should be doing ballet. 

Uneasiness settled into your stomach, but you tried to keep them in. You were in no mood to be going through an identity crisis.

“Ballerina,” you stated, matter-of-factly. Your eyebrows furrowed when Hyunjin chuckled.

“What?”

“Your answer hasn’t changed,” Hyunjin laughed, but not in a humorous way. Rather, it was in an expectant way, as if he knew that’s what you would answer. 

You straightened your posture and tilted your head. Hyunjin laughed even more, making a comment that you looked like Kkami.

“Have you asked me the same thing before?”

He nodded, “sort of? Kind of. On my tenth birthday, I asked you what you wanted.” Hyunjin cleared his throat and took a deep breath, mimicking the voice of younger you. “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!”

“Oh, shut up!” you rumbled, hitting him with his bolster repeatedly. “That’s not how I sounded like!”

“It so was!” 

Truthfully, you couldn’t quite recall the memory. You didn’t doubt Hyunjin though, it did sound like something you would’ve said. 

You queried again.

“What did you answer then?” 

Hyunjin turned silent. He didn’t like where this was going, not fond of recalling the cheesy answer he gave you. As he looked away from your gaze, you pressed him further. Even threatened to dog-nap Kkami.

“Fine. I said… I said I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris too…” his voice trailed, getting smaller, “said I’ll be wherever you are…”

Your eyebrows raised, scooting closer to him in mock confusion. “Sorry? Didn’t hear you.” 

A pillow hit your head, and you burst out into peals of laughter. It was hilarious, the cheesy answer little Hyunjin gave, but what amused you even more was his face turning red. 

Touches of laughter echoed in the room, and Hyunjin found himself praying the moment would last forever. The conversation quickly escalated into a pillow fight, ending up in Hyunjin leaning against his headboard, exhausted, and you laying on his lap. 

You looked up at him, eyes fleeting to the stubble growing. Mindlessly, you grazed his cheek, feeling his sideburns prickling against your thumb. 

He was growing, you realized it then. You were growing too. Neither of you were little kids anymore.

A fact you didn't want to accept.

It’s the softness of your fingers that froze Hyunjin in his tracks. He held his breath, as if you would stop if he moved. He didn’t want you to, wanted to let your fingers linger, to etch the sensation into his memories. 

In a soft tone, you spoke, “Did you really mean it?”

“Hm?”

“Would you be wherever I am?”

Hyunjin’s breath hitched, a lump growing in his throat. If he spoke, he feared his feelings would become too real. For as long as he could, he wanted to bury his feelings deep down. Life was already risky as it is, he didn’t want to take any more.

It’s platonic. It’s platonic. It’s platonic.

They repeated in his brain like a mantra. Maybe if he chanted it, it’ll manifest to life.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin swallowed, “of course I will. You’re my best friend.” 

Like magic, your worries about the future disappeared into thin air. Would it be foolish to trust Hyunjin so much, that you believed life would be fine as long as he was with you? 

Dear universe, be good to me.

You smiled, one that Hyunjin swore could light up the entire sky. The stars must envy you, for the way you could brighten up darkness effortlessly. 

“I’ll be wherever you are too.”

Yeah, Hyunjin would love it if time froze.

three.  

Don’t be a coward. 

Four words Hyunjin told his reflection as he got ready. He was dressed in a basic tee and a pair of jeans, hair slicked back like the one time you told him it looked good. He spritzed his cologne behind his ears, on his neck, and on his wrist before repeating the four words again. This time, he whispered it, letting it soak into his brain, in hopes his heart would have courage. 

It’s been too long. The feelings he harboured for you piled overtime, the crush he once thought was temporary transforming into fondness. It was becoming too much for Hyunjin’s heart to bear, he needed to let it out. If he didn’t, he felt like his heart could burst. And if it did, it would be confetti-shaped memories of you. 

Chatters echoed outside your ballet academy, Hyunjin watched through the lowered window for your face among the sea of people. He had a plan in mind — he’d open the door for you, put the seatbelt on for you, and tell you about his feelings. In front of your academy wasn’t the most ideal place for a confession, he knew, but God — he couldn’t bear sitting in silence with you as a storm raged in his head. He couldn’t do it. He wanted to say it as soon as he could. 

Hyunjin’s eyes were still busy looking for you when suddenly, your face came in his peripheral vision, along with another face. The other person was lean, jet black hair with bangs and puppy-like eyes. The boy opened the door for you before Hyunjin could. 

Okay, step number one failed. 

“Hey, Hyunnie!” your voice chirped, getting into the car. Your hand moved to buckle your seatbelt before Hyunjin could. He was too busy analysing the stranger in front of the door.

“Hey,” Hyunjin replied nonchalantly, looking at the boy from head to toe. “And this is…?”

“Seungmin. And you?” the boy said, tilting his head. To Hyunjin, he was being challenged. Seungmin’s tone was more daring than he liked, so he felt an urge to one-up the guy.

“Hyunjin. Been friends with Yn since were in diapers.” he replied, the extra detail a pathetic attempt at one-upping Seungmin. 

Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows, nodding as he shut your door, “Uh. Cool? Bye, Yn. And the friend since diapers.” 

Oh, Hyunjin really didn’t like him. 

“Wait, Seungminnie!” you called out just as Seungmin was walking away. He looked back at the car, raising an eyebrow. You turned to Hyunjin with puppy eyes. “Can you give Seungminnie a ride? He takes the bus and I think the next one’s in an hour.”

Hyunjin clenched his jaw, eyes fluttering from your pleading eyes to Seungmin’s figure outside the car. If it was all up to him, he would probably run the guy over. But God knew how much he cherished you, how he would rather cut his tongue than tell you “no,” so he agreed.

“Mm. Sure,” he replied, swallowing back a scoff. 

Your eyes brightened, “Seungminnie! Come, we’ll give you a ride!” you yelled, tempting Hyunjin to mock the nickname you’d given him.

It was going to be a car ride straight out of hell. 

Hyunjin’s knuckles were white against the steering as he pulled up to Seungmin’s residence complex. The building standing in front of him definitely belonged in a gated community, ritzy and luxurious. Somehow, that pissed Hyunjin off even more. He glanced at the unwanted guest sitting in the back seat through the rear-view mirror.

“Want me to drive you to the lobby, or what?”

Seungmin looked back into the mirror, peering at the reflection through his bangs. “Nah. They don’t let random cars in. Here’s just fine,” he mumbled, unbuckling the seatbelt. “Thanks, dude. Appreciate it.” 

The car door closed behind Seungmin, leaving the two of you in the car. Hyunjin sighed, feeling the nerves creeping up him again. Now that it was only the two of you, it was time for Hyunjin to confess his feelings.

Before he could, you spoke, “Seungmin’s my friend in the academy. He’s really smart,” your eyes didn’t leave the crossroad before you, watching as Seungmin walked. 

Hyunjin had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He tapped on your thigh, trying to gain your attention. It worked as you looked at him, batting your eyelashes. “Hm?”

He licked his lower lip, mustering all the courage in him. It was now, or never. “Look, I have something to tell you.” 

“Yeah?”

You shuffled in your seat, tilting your body slightly towards his way. Now that you had your full attention on him, Hyunjin felt even more nervous. He scratched the skin around his thumb, tongue-tied as his brain tried to form coherent words. He’s never done this before, always made fun of his friends for struggling to express their feelings but now that he was in the same place, he wished he could take back all the insults. The brown eyes looking deeply (and anxiously) into yours were profusely blinking, as though he was at the brink of tears. You grew worried.

“Hyunjin, what’s up?”

He scratched at the back of his neck. Why did his tongue feel so numb? Why did his brain feel empty yet so full at the same time? His heartbeats were so fast, he couldn’t quite catch up. Hyunjin was on a rollercoaster — you were waiting at the end of the ride.

Finally, he managed to muster words. “Look, I’ve pondered over —”

Two knocks on the window at the back. They’re followed by the door opening, an exasperated Seungmin popping his head into the car. Immediately, you both looked back, utterly bewildered. 

“Sorry. I left my bag. Thank God you’re still here,” Seungmin said, grabbing his messenger bag and slipping it onto his shoulder. “Thanks and sorry!”

The door closed, thus silence blanketed the atmosphere once again. This time, with unresolved tension. You looked back at Hyunjin, tilting your head in curiosity.

“You were saying?” 

Dazed, the raven looked at you. His face was a mixture of exasperation and confusion. His head? There was a storm raging, along with curse words aimed at Seungmin. 

“Um…” He licked his lower lip, racking his brain to find back the words he wanted to say. They were all lost. He was already at the end of the rollercoaster, the bumps along the way forgotten, and the thrill subsided. All that’s left was the remnants of anxiety. He couldn’t do it anymore, not when he’s forgotten the things he wanted to say, and the moment disturbed by your dear friend Seungmin.

So, he put the gear on to drive. He shook his head and made up a white lie.

“I think I want to try a new ice cream place today.”

four.  

The taste of cookies and cream could not beat the bitterness on Hyunjin’s tongue. 

It may be because the bitterness has seeped into his head. 

“I’m going to your room,” you announced, swinging the front door of his house open. “Hi, Mrs Hwang!” you cheered, running up the stairs after. 

“I’m going to talk to my mom a little bit,” Hyunjin said, hanging both your coats on the coat hanger. 

Nothing could’ve prepared Hyunjin for what was to happen next. 

Both his parents were crowding the kitchen countertop when he walked in, skimming through a piece of paper. They were beaming, eyes crinkled as they smiled. A reminder that Hyunjin resembled both his parents. He blinked in confusion as to why his parents looked so happy. He didn’t think he'd seen them this happy before.

“What’s going on?” he questioned, peering over their figures to look at the paper. 

On the paper were words he’d only seen in his dreams. Never in a million years he would’ve thought it’d manifest to life. His heart skipped a beat as he read the words over, and over. 

“You made it, sweetheart,” his mother’s soft voice spoke, confirming his suspicion. “You got accepted. Beaux-Arts de Paris.”

“Eomma,” he mumbled, as if he was pleading. Pleading for this dream to stop. Somebody’s got to wake him up from this nightmare of a day. “There’s no way.” 

Hyunjin picked up the letter, inspecting it closer. As though if he looked any closer, the words on the pristine white paper would change. Reject him. Or maybe, the logo of the prestigious school would magically transform into a logo of a school in Seoul. Anything, anything, that would keep him here. In Seoul. With you. 

“You did it, sweetheart. Your dreams are coming true,” his mother keenly said, pulling him into a side hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

His dream? It was his dream, and, yours. No, scratch that — it wasn’t truly his dream. It was yours. His dream had always been to be wherever you are. 

He didn’t think he would be accepted. When you told him you were rejected from the Paris Ballet School, he told you that he was rejected, too. He didn’t tell you that he was waitlisted, under the impression that he was never getting out of the waitlist. What was he to tell you now? 

Hyunjin hid his sadness, wanting to make his parents proud, “Yeah. I did it. I’m so happy, eomma, appa.” 

A series of praises left his parents, and he allowed for them to engulf him in a hug. 

“Don’t tell Yn, ‘kay?” he muttered, before excusing himself to go upstairs. The acceptance letter was neatly folded, tucked into his pocket.  

When he swung his bedroom door open, you were standing in front of his full-length mirror. Clad in only his t-shirt, you inspected yourself. 

“Hey, Hwang Hyunjin,” you muttered, turning your body. “Your clothes are bigger than me now. You used to be so small.”

You looked at him, mock dismay in your face. “I was so much taller than you before. You were a dwarf.” 

How was he meant to tell you about Paris?

“I was never a dwarf. You were just too busy looking down on me.”

Giggles left both of you. Silently, he observed the way you were examining yourself. You had the mannerisms of a ballerina, each gesture as gracious as your dance. Hyunjin adored the curves of your body, but God knew he loved that of your smile even more. 

Later, you were both laying on his bed, you in a starfish position. Hyunjin was at the edge of his bed, trying his best to not fall. 

“Ballet was so hard today,” you sighed. You turned your body sideways, burying your face into Hyunjin’s chest. He could smell you in this closeness.

“Are you wearing my deodorant?” he queried, bowing to clasp his nose onto your shoulder. It felt like a kiss to him. “This is literally the smell of my deodorant.” 

You shrugged. “Yeah? What about it? You should’ve gotten used to me taking your things by now, Hwang Hyunjin. I’ve been doing this our whole lives.” 

Touché. The boy sighed, letting you fill in the silence with your babbles. Wordlessly, he listened to your words, letting it be the white noise to his thoughts. 

His head was clearly not there. Unbeknownst to him, you knew of this. He’d been off all day. You’ve picked up on each signal, knowing him like the back of your hand. As much as you wanted to know what was wrong, you knew not to pry. You resorted to comfort instead. 

Your fingertips met at the back of his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He was never one for physical touch but sometimes, it helped. You leaned your head into his neck. 

Gingerly, you whispered the words you thought he would need. 

“You’re always here, around me. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

The exact words he did not need to hear that day.

How was he meant to tell you of his feelings now? 

Especially when he was leaving — oceans away. 

five.  

Hyunjin had always loved soccer.

Whether it be being in the bleachers, or playing in the field. He loved doing both. There was something about the thrill of watching people play, and the adrenaline as he chased around the field. 

Sitting in the bleachers, Hyunjin watched as his soccer team played. The sounds of his teammates laughing made the blazing sun a little more bearable. He lowered his cap to prevent the sunlight from getting in his eyes, chuckling when he saw Beomgyu falling face-first onto the grass.

He loved his soccer team. Every time he observed them play, Hyunjin’s heart always got overwhelmed with pride and joy. At that moment, he felt melancholy taking space too — the thought of not being able to play with them anymore hurting him more than he thought it would. 

Hyunjin allowed for the melancholy to take space, allowed himself to feel — so much so that he didn’t feel Minho’s presence. Not until the older cleared his throat. 

Minho sat beside him, “Why the long face, Hwang Hyunjin?” 

“Huh?” startled, he looked up, face softening when he saw Minho. “Oh. Nothing. You’re not playing?”

“Nah,” Minho replied curtly. He silently analyzed the younger’s facial expressions before speaking up again. “For someone who’s going to Paris in two weeks, you sure don’t look too happy.”

Of course, Minho out of all people would notice the change in his mannerisms. Always the analyzing one, quick to notice changes in demeanour. There was no point in lying, not with Minho — so he let out the sigh he didn’t realize he was holding. 

“It’s bittersweet, you know?” he mumbled, fiddling with his fingers.

“It’s Yn, isn’t it?” 

“Huh?”

“You don’t want to part ways with her. It’s what’s holding you back.” 

Right on. It was as though Minho was a mind-reader. A heavy weight pulled on Hyunjin’s heartstrings, made his heart even heavier than a few minutes prior.

“Yeah,” he didn’t lie, again. He looked at Minho, and the older could clearly see the uneasiness written all over his face. “If you were me… would you tell her about your feelings?”

“The fact that you like her?”

“Yeah.”

Minho fell silent. He pondered over the question, looking at the sight before him. The sun was setting, orange hues painting the sky. Hyunjin wondered if Paris sunsets would look the same.

“I think…” Minho turned towards the younger. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t tell her.” 

“Why?”

“Won’t benefit you, I don’t think.” Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Listen. If you were to tell her, and she accepted, do you think you could get into a relationship with her?”

“I mean —”

Minho cut him, “Realistically, do you think the relationship would succeed? I mean, the time zone between Seoul and Paris is pretty big. The distance, too. I don’t think it would work out. And that’ll be bad, you know? You’ll both be left wondering what could have been.”

The truth hurt. The distance, the time — none of them were on Hyunjin’s side. 

“And, if, God forbid, if she were to reject you… do you really want your last memory with her to be the hurt you’ll feel?”

Hyunjin shook his head. The other sighed, and patted him on the back. 

“There are things better left unsaid. You should take her out. Spend your last time with her nicely.”

Despite Hyunjin’s stubbornness, he took Minho’s advice. It took him a lot of contemplating (and crying), but he followed it anyway. Whether he liked it or not, Minho’s advice had a lot of truth in it. 

Bitter truths, but true regardless.

six.

“Where are we going?” you whined, trailing behind your dear friend. The sun was setting in two hours, orange hues were beginning to paint the sky. “Hyunnie, if you don’t tell me where we’re —”

“Please, stay patient. Will you?”

Hyunjin looked behind. He was wearing a blue knitted vest. In one hand, he held a picnic basket. The other, is your handbag. You never have to carry your own with him.

“But we’re literally in the middle of nowhere!” 

“Please just trust me,” he pleaded. One hand was stretched towards you, a silent offer to hold his. “Come. If you’re too tired, I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”

Ever the opportunist, you took up on the offer. Alas, Hyunjin was left walking the remaining distance, you happily singing road trip songs while clinging onto his back. To butter him up, you told him that he must’ve been a blessing sent to you by God. Although he groaned at the remark, you couldn’t see the small smile on his face.

After a few minutes, you understood why Hyunjin was adamant about going out that day. Before you, green plains stretched as far as your eyes could see. Scattered across viridian shades were wildflowers. Some yellow, some pink. 

Hyunjin had brought you to a flower field.

The picnic basket, and the Polaroid camera finally made sense. 

Without any more words, you jumped off his back and ran into the field. The yellow sundress you wore matched that of the wildflowers. In Hyunjin’s eyes, you blended right in. 

You were as pretty as the flowers. 

“Careful, Yn! Don’t fall!” He called out, his voice echoing in the space. He watched you from afar. There was an urge to run among the flowers too, but he was much more content with watching you. 

From a distance, in silence, he observed your every move. He couldn’t help the giggles that left his lips. The smile that lingered on his lips. He wanted this memory to last, to be ingrained in his brain forever. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to witness your happiness. 

“Hyunnie, you need to come here! It’s so nice!”

Chuckling, he carefully placed the picnic basket on the ground. Hyunjin was done with setting up the picnic spot. He ran towards you, lifted you off the ground and twirled you around. You broke out into giggles and held onto his arms. 

Among the flowers, two silhouettes danced with each other. Swaying to the same melody as the peonies. Despite being a ballerina, you kept stumbling onto Hyunjin’s feet, giggling each time he elicited an “ow.” 

Like a scene from a movie.

Like he wasn’t going away soon.

Before the sun could set, Hyunjin convinced you to sit on the picnic blanket. He wished to dance with you longer, but alas, time awaits for no mortal. 

“How do you want me to pose?” you asked. You were facing him, legs tucked sideways.

Hyunjin scooted closer to you, and wiped breadcrumbs off your lips. He commented on you eating messily. “You can pose however you want.”

You nodded, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Okay. Make sure you get my good angles, yeah?”

“You look good from any angle.” 

Crimson crept up your face. You hadn’t expected that remark. You hoped he wouldn’t see you blush, you would just tell him it’s the sun then. 

“Okay…”

Two clicks, then a flash went off. Your eyes widened, caught off-guard.

“You didn’t even count to three!” 

Your whines were responded to with a giggle. The camera whirled, apprising you of a Polaroid developing. Hyunjin took it, fanning the Polaroid with a grin. He was excited to see it.

“I wasn’t ready!”

“Candid photos are better,” he sighed. “Don’t you know? Everything’s prettier when it’s genuine.”

“So you’re calling me pretty?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Have I ever said you’re ugly?”

Right. He has never. 

You prayed to God the heat on your face was from the sun and not from blushing.

Once the Polaroid fully developed, Hyunjin made sure he was the first to see it. To your dismay, he held it close to his face, shielding it from you. His cheeks dimpled, illustrating his happiness. You looked so pretty, the sunlight on your face giving you an angelic glow. If he looked closer, he was sure he’d see a halo. 

Hyunjin wanted to keep this forever. 

If he couldn’t freeze the time, he figured he’d trap the memories in photographs.

“Let me see!” you whined. “It’s a picture of me! I have the right to see it.”

Scampering towards him, you waved your hands, trying to get the photograph off his hand. To no avail, Hyunjin had quick reflexes much thanks to his soccer experience. 

“No! You can’t — it’s for my eyes only!”

“Ridiculous! That’s my face, Hyunnie!”

“It’s my camera film. So it’s mine!”

Neither one of you would let up, legs entangling against each other as you fought over the photograph. He was determined to not let you even see the picture. One of your palms pressed against the picnic blanket, the other reaching up towards his hand. Hyunjin used his free hand to push you gently but alas, he underestimated his own strength. In one swift move, you lost your balance, toppling over him. 

“Ow,” he fell back and winced in pain. He looked up, and all the back pain was suddenly replaced by shyness. There you were, on his lap — face just as flushed as his. 

Hyunjin didn’t know what to do now. 

Pathetically, he just stared into your eyes, finding himself getting caught in them. He could feel your hitched breaths against his chest, he was very aware of your trembling fingers on his arms. There was a strong urge to kiss you as his eyes fell onto your lips. He wondered how they’d feel on his lips. He imagined it in his head — missing the way your eyes stared at his lips too. 

If you were a flower, Hyunjin would be a bee. He desired you, eyes tracing the shape of your lips. Over, and over. If he kissed you, would your lips taste like honey? 

He ought to find out. Hesitantly, he inched his head closer to yours. The warmth of your breath against his skin marked the closeness between you.

Numerous scenarios flashed in Hyunjin’s mind. Of him kissing you senseless, then whispering a love confession in your ear. Of your cold fingers pressing into his skin as he tells you each perk of yours that he loved endlessly. The more he imagined, the closer he was. You shut your eyes, waiting for his lips to finally press onto yours. 

Paris. The one-way plane ticket to Paris.

Against his heart’s desire, his fingers cupped your chin instead. Subtly, he pulled back, eyes trailing back up to your eyes. He ignored the look of confusion in your eyes.

Reaching down, he pocketed the photograph. His heart clenched as he spoke, but he did anyway. 

“I win.”

The two words pulled you from your trance — they tore off your heart like paper. You blinked, watching the playful smirk that graced Hyunjin’s porcelain face. 

“Oh.”

The whole journey home, bitterness sat on Hyunjin’s tongue like the aftertaste of tangerine pulp. Did you want the kiss too, or had his libido fabricated things? 

Nevertheless, he couldn’t kiss you. Not when he had suitcases packed for Beaux-Art de Paris. Not when it’s all his parents could talk about. 

Minho’s words played in Hyunjin’s mind like a broken record. They served as a reminder of what could not be. For the sake of his heart, he told himself that it had all been a figment of his imagination.

Tension cloaked the front door of your house. Neither of you made a noise, save for the jingling keys in your carabiner. You observed Hyunjin, who was busy looking at his shoes. Once again, his mind wasn’t in his head. It had been that way for a few weeks. 

“See you soon?” you mumbled. 

Hyunjin looked up, nodding at your words. He pulled you into a hug, one that almost crushed your bones. Shakingly, he nuzzled his head into your neck, burying his face into the skin like you would dissolve if he didn't. It must’ve hurt his back but you made no comment, instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, in hopes it'll give him solace. By the front door you held him, so tight that it was as though the two of you were one, the curves of his fingers burning through your skin.

You didn’t know that it was a goodbye. It had to stay that way. 

Once more, his heart clenched in his chest. Two hands cupped your cheeks, as gentle as he could be, like you would break. He engraved this version of you into his memory — kind eyes boring into his with a soft smile plastered across the face he'd grown to adore. He vowed to always remember this face. 

Deeply, he inhaled his breath. Preparing the next words — lies to say to you, no matter how tight his chest felt.

“Yeah, see you soon.”

The last words Hwang Hyunjin muttered to you. 

seven.  

One day before your birthday. 

It had been two days since Hyunjin brought you to the meadow. You hadn’t seen him much, just glimpses of him as he played around with Kkami in his backyard. You figured that he was busy.

“Hello, I’m home!” you said in a sing-song voice as you stepped into the Hwang household. Kkami who’d usually greet you wasn’t in his usual spot, so you trudged straight to the kitchen, where Hyunjin’s mother was sitting. “Hi, Mrs Hwang.” 

She looked up, lips twitching into a smile, a cookie-cutter of Hyunjin’s. Under the kitchen light, you don’t miss the dried tears by her eyes. You pursed your lips, wondering if she was watching a sad drama. Hyunjin inherited his trait of easily crying from his mother, after all. 

“Hi, sweet girl,” she looked at your outfit from head to toe. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“Oh,” you muttered, giving her a little twirl. “My birthday outfit! Is it pretty?”

“Of course.”

You smiled at her, fiddling with the hem of your blouse. Keenly, you looked around the kitchen for any traces of Hyunjin. You realized that the house seemed much quieter than usual, emptier than normal. 

“Where’s Hyunjin?” you asked. The reason why you’d come over was to show your best friend your birthday outfit. Now that you were there, he was nowhere to be seen. “Is he home?”

Sympathy materialized in the mother’s old eyes. She tilted her head at you, lips pursing as she thought of the correct words to say. 

“My girl, did he not tell you?”

Confusion would be an understatement. Hyunjin told you everything, everything — from pointless thoughts to his deepest, darkest secrets. You were his secret keeper, his companion — there was nothing he wouldn’t tell you.

Was there? 

It had to be something unimportant, right? Perhaps he was off to an art workshop and forgot to tell you. But looking at his mother, it felt like something big. You grew anxious under her sympathetic gaze. 

“Tell me what?” you questioned, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“We just came back from Incheon Airport. He’s on a plane to Paris,” the lady replied. She stood up, inching closer towards your trembling figure. “Did he not tell you, Yn? I thought he did.”

“Paris?” you asked, blinking. “Like. For a vacation?”

“No, sweetheart. Beaux-Arts de Paris. He got into the school.”

The words felt like bullets on skin, penetrating and chagrining you deeply. It felt unreal — a hoax.

You scoffed, “What? He wouldn’t go without telling me.” Your eyes searched for humour in his mother’s eyes. “Is this like, a birthday prank?”

Her eyes saddened even more. “No, sweetheart. He really went.”

Another betrayal came in the form of tears cascading down your eyes without warning. The emotions hit you faster than your brain could process things. Speechless, you took steps back from his mother, before running up the staircase to his room. 

He had to be there. Sitting in his swivel chair and laughing at your face. He’ll tell you it was a prank and wipe away your tears. 

Hyunjin was your best friend of a lifetime. He wouldn’t do this to you. He had to be there.

When the door to his room swung open, a sob was knocked out of your mouth. 

All traces of life in the bedroom were gone, save for the soft purrs of Kkami sleeping on the bed. The bed was stripped of its bedsheets, and the towels hanging behind the door were gone. The laundry bag was empty. 

All traces of Hyunjin were gone. 

The realization hit harder than his mother’s words. If the words hurt like bullets on skin, the sight of Hyunjin’s lifeless room felt like a knife twisted in your gut. It felt like sanguine dripping from wounds, and Hyunjin’s holding the knife. It felt like a betrayal. 

“Hyunjin,” his name slipped from your lips like a plea. “Hyunjin.” 

More choked sobs escaped your windpipes as you searched around the room. First, it was his wardrobe. The oak material was practically empty, all that remained were a couple of sleep tees and the shirts you’ve left over the years. You rummaged through the hangers, finding that he had brought one of your sweatshirts along. 

The confirmation of his departure was the emptiness of his study table. Each nook and cranny of his table used to feel like Hyunjin, from the stacks of sketchbooks to eraser dust. Everything was Hyunjin — but at that moment, there was nothing. There was only a void — that of his desk and your heart. 

Your best friend was truly gone. 

“Hyunjin,” the name wrestled its way past your lips again. This time, it was out of longing. “Hyunjin.” 

The manner in which you walked to his bed echoed your feelings. Quivering, like a toddler’s first time walking. Your body fell onto the bed, earning a soft whine from Kkami. Gently, you held Kkami in your arms, letting a stream of tears cascade down your cheeks. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to cry, to feel, to mourn. 

If someone were to tell you that Hyunjin out of all people would make you cry that much, you would’ve laughed. Never in a million years, you’d say. The only times he had made you cry were from laughter. 

“Kkami,” you cried. The chihuahua nuzzled its head into your arms, as though it could feel your sorrow. Perhaps it could. “I miss Hyunjin.”

The dog whined. It looked up to you, placing its paw onto your arm. You cried even more. 

“I wanted to tell him about how I feel today,” through sobs, you managed to speak. “How could he make me feel so many things in one day and disappear the other? He didn't even say goodbye.”

It felt like the chihuahua was mourning with you — the way it nudged its head onto your arm, letting out soft whimpers. As though it was telling you that things will be okay. 

You weren’t sure that it would. You spent your whole life with Hyunjin by your side, you had never known life without him. Now that he was ripped from your grasp, you didn’t know how to go on. No — he voluntarily released himself from your grasp, without warning. It was worse. 

Physical traces of Hyunjin in his room were gone. There was only his scent — the smell of his shampoo, and his cologne. It lingered in the room, mocking you.

In your melancholic state of mind, you could only weep.

eight. 

“Coffee, or tea?”

A female voice broke Hyunjin from his trance. He looked up at the stewardess standing by his seat, the sweatshirt doused in your scent crumpling in his tight grip. 

“I want to get off this plane,” sat on his tongue and dissolved. He took a deep breath. 

“Um,” he looked at the cart, “Plain water, please?”

Coffee would only force Hyunjin to stay awake, forcing him to listen to his own brain’s torments for 14 hours straight. Tea reminded him too much of you, of the times when you were little and would make him play tea party with you. He’ll think about the times you’d cheekily kiss his cheek, an attempt to woo him into playing with you. It worked each time. 

The stewardess nodded, handing him a water bottle branded with the aeroplane’s logo. He muttered a thank you, yet the stewardess still didn’t walk away. She looked nice, her eyes analyzing Hyunjin told him that he must’ve looked like the epitome of a wreck.  

“First time flying?” she questioned. It wasn’t his first time, having gone on many vacations before yet he nodded. “I see. It’ll be fine, just sit back and relax.”

The woman, whose name tag said Chaewon flashed Hyunjin a hospitality smile — one he didn’t think he deserved — then walked away. Hyunjin pursed his lips, wishing that she hadn’t walked away. He didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts, he didn’t want to be awake, he didn’t want to be in this plane — there were a lot of things he didn’t want to do, but had to do. 

Hyunjin wanted to turn back.

Silently, he looked out the window, watching as the landscapes of Seoul grew smaller, slowly becoming covered with clouds. He desperately wished to get out, praying to God that the plane would miraculously turn back and the tableau of Seoul would become bigger. Had he told the stewardess named Chaewon he wanted to get off, would they have let him? Had he told his parents he didn’t want to go to Paris, would they have understood?

If he tells you he’s sorry, would you forgive him? 

Regrets and memories clouded his mind, tears making their way down his cheeks. Each thought strangled his heart, and he could feel it physically aching. In a melancholic state of mind he sat, clinging onto your sweatshirt like it was his lifeline, allowing slumber to slowly take over. 

The break from his own thoughts did not last long enough.

Seven hours later, Hyunjin woke up to dried tears on his cheeks. He straightened his posture and glanced at the window, feeling a wave of emotions at the change of landscapes. Hyunjin wasn’t sure in which city they were flying over, but he could say with certainty that it did not look like Seoul. It did not feel like home, it did not feel like you. 

Unable to fall back to sleep, he couldn’t help the thoughts that poisoned his mind. Looking over the landscapes, he came to a realization much too painful for his heart to bear. 

You and him — you were the Sun, and he was the Moon. Two people of different circumstances, who’ll never meet, ripped away from the merciless hands of time. For your timezones were different — horizons even more. 

As a wave of new tears descended, Hyunjin wondered if he would ever forget about you.

The answer came to him one afternoon three years later, as he laid on the couch in his Parisian apartment. 

No, he’d never forget about you. At least not in three years. Maybe not even in five. 

Sunlight seeped in through the balcony, providing Hyunjin the warmth he wasn’t able to receive from a person. His roommate was a French guy who was always out and about, leaving Hyunjin to soak in his own company for hours on end. Sometimes, for days. Hyunjin loved and hated it at the same time. 

His limbs stretched across the burgundy couch, a yawn eliciting past his lips. Brown eyes stared at the canvas in front of him, black and white hues scattered on white, forming a half-finished painting of you. 

Years later, and you remained at the back of his mind — his muse.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

nine.  

There are five stages of grief. 

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, then acceptance. Denial was the hardest for you, having spent your entire birthday staring at the front door of your house, praying Hyunjin would walk in. When your friends sang you a Happy Birthday, it sounded like a morose ballad playing from a broken record. Without Hyunjin, gloom sat at the centre of even the happiest things. 

Then came a sixth stage — one that seemed to exist for you.

Motivation.

After coming to acceptance that your best friend had gone, without any farewell, you spent many hours a day in the ballet studio. Pirouette, arabesque, plié — you managed to polish each move with the amount of time you spent cooped up in the studio. You weren’t born with ballet feet, but the times spent in pointe shoes had somehow moulded you into having them. 

Perhaps, it was distraction, disguised as motivation.

Nevertheless, the tireless hours of practice granted you a position in the Paris Ballet School.

Paris felt bittersweet when you first landed. It was the city of your dreams, but the reminiscence of the person it took from you made you loathe it. 

Withal, life had to go on. To cope with the Parisian lifestyle, you managed to get a job at a cafe near your academy — Desir Cafe. You worked night shifts as a kitchen crew but if traffic was overwhelming in the afternoons, your shitty excuse of a boss would make you come in anyway.

Unfortunately for you, it was one of those days. Clinks and sizzles reverberated in the kitchen, the peg board overwhelmed with sticky notes of orders. You were everywhere in the kitchen, from piping icing on cupcakes to sprinkling chocolate rice on pastries. 

“Yn,” the main baker yelled, “Tell Double C’s we can’t stock up on macarons! We’re out of almond flour!” 

The Double C’s — Charlotte, and Colette. They were a duo who worked as waitresses, always gossiping. Birds of the same feather, attached by the hip. 

Exasperated, you headed to the front, swinging the kitchen door open to see the duo gossiping. Charlotte was leaning in towards Colette, whispering into her ear, earning giggles from the other. You sighed, wondering what the topic was that afternoon. Curious as to who they were gossiping about, you looked towards the direction they were looking. 

Seated alone at the corner of the cafe was a guy, blonde hair gleaming golden from the sunlight seeping through the big window. His utmost focus was on the sketchbook in front of him, frail fingers dancing across paper, entrancing any eyes which fell upon him. You couldn’t help but stare, your face gradually contorting into disbelief.

He resembled too much like Hyunjin — your Hyunjin. 

Your gaze lingered on the man, analyzing each crease of his face, matching it with the one you had in mind. He looked just like Hyunjin, from the shape of his nose to the mole under his eye. The only difference was the hair. Hyunjin’s hair was raven black, but the person in the cafe had golden blonde hair. You felt your throat tighten. If the man sitting at the corner was him, then time had done good on him. He was beautiful, face sculptured beautifully by time’s gentle hands.

“Ooh, look who’s ogling!” a high-pitched voice interrupted you. You looked up to see the Double C’s looking at you, wiggling their eyebrows mischievously. Charlotte smirked, “Think the guy’s cute?”

“Huh? What guy?” you lied, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

Colette rolled her eyes. “The dude over there! Don’t lie, you think he’s cute.” The brunette wiggled her eyebrows even more, subtly pointing at the man. 

You didn’t say anything else, but your eyes travelled back to the familiar silhouette. The sense of familiarity tugged on fragile heartstrings the more you looked at him. Colette could sense your curiosity, so she parted her lips to speak.

“That’s Hyunjin. He’s a student in Beaux-Arts de Paris,” she muttered, unbeknownst to her the mixed emotions that dawned upon you. “He comes here almost every afternoon. Maybe that’s why you’ve never seen him before. He’s cute, isn’t he?”

Excitedly, Charlotte nodded her head. “A total heart-throb, honestly.”

“I mean…” your voice trailed, “He’s quite alright.”

How were you supposed to react to finally seeing the one who got away? Were you supposed to feel excited, or upset? It was like the moon had suddenly dropped down onto your lap. 

You were confused.

Charlotte continued speaking, not realizing the mixture of emotions in your face. “Sometimes, the students have exhibitions about ten minutes from here. His artworks always make it to the exhibitions. I’ve seen them, and they’re really beautiful.”

You turned towards her, “Exhibitions?”

She nodded, still naive as to your shift in behaviour. “I think the school has an exhibition every three months or so.”

Unfaltering, your eyes bored holes in Hyunjin’s back. He was in his own little world, evidently absorbed in whatever piece he was working on. Just like that, the memories you spent years suppressing came rushing back. 

It was unfair, the impact he had on you. There he was, lounging in a corner while your heart grappled in your chest. He looked older, better — and you were still the little girl in the tree house. Swaying your feet as they dangled, as though you had all the time in the world.

Charlotte and Colette exchanged looks as you stared at him. To them, you were simply developing a crush on a stranger. They wouldn’t understand the conflict brewing in you, they wouldn’t be able to comprehend the ache that stirred in the depths of your heart.

“What? You’re interested in him?” Charlotte spoke, breaking you off your trance. You looked at her, blinking. “Don’t even try. I’ve tried. I think he’s gay.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“He’s not gay — oh my god, Lottie!” it was Colette’s turn to speak. Playfully, she smacked the other’s arm. “I asked that guy he’s always with, the songwriter — Felix. Cute guy, that one. Felix told me that he’s got a secret lover or something.”

“Secret lover?”

“Yeah. Apparently, he likes to draw this one girl. His sketchbook’s filled with her,” Colette murmured, glancing at Hyunjin. “Felix asked her who she was, and he said it’s a girl of his dreams.”

Your heart dropped. You weren’t sure to which news you should react first, either Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin, or that he has a secret lover. Either way, it made you pathetically jealous. Your heartstrings thrummed in anger as you imagined a beautiful French girl spread out on his bed, and Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin.

How could he go on with his life when you spent years mourning him?

Crimson tainted your lip as you bit on it hard, the taste of metal at the tip of your tongue. 

Perhaps, you never made it past the anger stage of your grief.

ten.

You truly tried to be happy for Hyunjin.

For days, weeks — you spent convincing yourself that you had to be happy for him. Sure, he hurt you three years ago. Sure, you spent years in agony, regretting not telling him how you felt earlier, wondering what could’ve been. Sure, you hoped that you’d see him in Paris and he’d tell you that he’s in love with you and kiss you senseless — but those were just desperate prayers, weren’t they? Those were simply hopeful scenarios. You hadn’t expected them to come true, had you?

Hyunjin was your best friend of years. He deserved happiness, even when you didn’t feel happy. You had to let things go. You had to be happy for him.

Clearly, you failed at convincing yourself.

In front of a building you stood, the sound of people walking past becoming white noise. You stared at the banner standing in front of you, the words Autumn Exhibition displayed, with the logo of Beaux-Arts de Paris at the top. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat.

A week ago, Charlotte told you that the university would be holding another exhibition, and Hyunjin’s artworks most likely made it into the exhibition. You knew then, that you had to go. If you didn’t get to see him, then you at least wanted to see his pieces. To not be a part of his life was devastating, you wished to at least witness glimpses of it. 

9:45 p.m. was displayed on your screen, people were beginning to leave the exhibition. There weren’t many people around, which was what you were hoping for. Visiting the exhibition in daylight meant potentially bumping into Hyunjin, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that.

One day you ought to meet him, but not today. Not when the fragments of your heart have yet to be mended.

After taking a deep breath, you willed yourself to step into the exhibition. A gust of wind hit your face, and you shivered, clutching your coat tight. The art display seemed to be painting-themed, the way frames of canvases were scattered around the building. Baroque paintings were displayed all over, each piece as beautiful as skies at dusk.

The tapping of your heels against the ceramic tiles sounded as you walked, the romantic lighting of the room providing you with a sense of comfort. Wildly, your eyes observed each piece, letting your heart be swayed by the beauty. 

They were all beautiful — but they didn’t feel like Hyunjin. 

Until your eyes trailed to a certain piece.

It was the centrepiece, the piece — little bulbs of lights were installed above the frame, making the piece feel alive. The moment your gaze fell on the artwork, you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, taking hurried steps towards it. You stared, unable to take your eyes off the hues on the canvas.

There weren’t many hues, just black and white. It depicted two figures on swings. You couldn’t see the figures clearly but you could tell they looked happy. You could see through the strokes of paint that they were happy — though the artist not so. There was a certain sadness in the painting, one that screamed nostalgia. 

The longer you looked at the piece, the more you realized. 

It was a fragment of your memory. 

Your breath hitched. In came a memory of you and Hyunjin — running around the park before playing on swings. It was a particularly memorable day, you could recall falling off the swing and Hyunjin kneeling in front of you, kissing the bruises on your knees with the tenderness of a feather. It was the first time you felt so protected, and so loved. 

A rush of emotions overcame you, you wondered if that was how Hyunjin felt when he painted it. Had he thought of you, and wept by his easel? Had he stained his cheeks with charcoal as he wiped stray tears off his face? 

You wondered, so much so that you failed to realize a silhouette entering the display. 

Hyunjin didn’t enjoy art exhibitions in daylight. They felt pompous. The people who visited the exhibitions would usually walk around casually, and took photos. They didn’t harbour any sort of deep appreciation towards art, they didn’t sit and admire.

Therefore, Hyunjin loved revisiting exhibitions in the comfort of twilight. When the expositions were empty, he enjoyed revisiting them, taking his sweet time to admire each piece. 

When he spotted a figure standing before his piece — his most vulnerable piece, he felt his heart drop. He watched from afar as this person observed the artwork, body as still as a mannequin. He had never witnessed someone admire a piece this intensely, especially with it being one of his pieces. He felt flattered, his heart swelling in pride and joy. 

Silently, Hyunjin approached the figure. Usually, he was shy, not the type to approach people first but somehow, he felt the strong urge to this time. Fate was pulling him by his heartstrings.

“That’s my painting,” Hyunjin spoke, ensuring his voice was as soft as possible. 

The sudden voice startled you. You whipped your head towards the source of the noise, eyes widened in shock. They widened even more at the sight before you. 

Hyunjin’s breath hitched. His heartbeats escalated, taking in the figure standing in front of him. His fingers dug into the skin of his thumb, lips quivering. Brown doe eyes mirrored yours.

“Wh — what?” he spoke again, breathless. “Yn?”

A few steps were taken, inching closer towards you. His eyes scanned your face, lips quivering even more when he realized that it was you — you were real, and you were standing in front of him. You looked the same as you did three years ago, except more beautiful. How’d you get more beautiful? The passage of time had seemingly been good to you, the way it had carved your face into one Hyunjin could imagine himself filling his canvases with.

“Hyunjin,” you willed yourself to speak. You ignored the way your eyes watered. “It’s you.”

“It’s you, too. You’re here.”

Another few, brave steps were taken. You, on the other hand, didn’t move an inch. 

“I hate you,” the words spilt past sanguine mouth before you could stop them, its venom contrasting the hushed tone of your voice. They crushed Hyunjin’s heart, though he knew he deserved them. “But I missed you.”

“I’m sorry,” was all that he could say. Hyunjin meant it. He really was sorry. He was sorry as he sent you back from the meadow, too cowardly to bid you goodbye. He was sorry when he packed his bags, stealing one of your sweatshirts for solace. He was sorry when he was on the plane, wishing he could turn back time. He was sorry when he painted numerous portraits of you. He was sorry as he stood before you, watching tears flow down your cheeks because it was the least he could do — a form of punishment for what he had done to you.

You shook your head, palms rushing towards your face to wipe away tears. 

“It’s not enough, I know,” he mumbled, moving closer towards you to wipe your tears, like it was instinct, feeling his heart clench when you took steps back. “But I truly am sorry.”

“You didn’t even say goodbye,” you sobbed, vision blurry. “You didn’t even contact me.”

“I know, Yn, I know — I’m sorry. I wanted to call you, but I couldn’t,” he rambled, cupping your cheeks and rubbing on the skin. You allowed him to. “I swear, I wanted to write to you, but I was too embarrassed, and by the time I had enough courage it was already too late.”

Sobs wrestled their way past your lips, barely able to form coherent words. You kept shaking your head, blurting out the words you’ve kept for years.

“You just left me, Hyunjin — you left me. A day before my birthday,” your whimpers got louder, “I wanted to tell you I’m in love with you, on my birthday. Hell, three years later and I’m still in love with you.”

Hyunjin’s face paled. He had expected curses, and cries — but he hadn’t expected that. Anything, but that. His limbs moved before his brain could process things, lifting your chin to meet eyes. Your eyes were tinted with tears, but you were still beautiful. You’re always beautiful.

“What?” he squeezed your cheeks, “Yn, what?”

“You heard me. I’m not saying it again. It's fucking pathetic.”

“Fuck,” he exhaled. Hyunjin knew he was supposed to feel remorse, but God — his heart bloomed at the words you had whispered to him. You’re in love with him. You’re in love with him, the same way he was in love with you. “Fuck, Yn. You can't just say shit like that.”

Feather-like touches grazed your lips. There was a certain look in Hyunjin's eyes, one that you couldn't quite figure out — they were a look of longing. How could you know it was longing when you had never bear witness to them? You could feel his breath against your face, warm like his fingertips.

“You have no fucking idea how long I've been in love with you. You have no idea how much I missed you. Fuck, I think about you every fucking day,” he whispered, “You have no idea how much I regret getting on that plane.”

At that moment, all you could feel was Hyunjin. His deep, brown eyes staring into yours and his thumb pressing onto your lip.

“Kiss me,” you whispered back, “Kiss me, Hwang Hyunjin.”

And kiss you, he did. His lips crashed against yours with fervour, moving his lips to the same beat as his racing heart. You kissed back in the same manner, letting out the emotions you had bottled up. 

I love you, I love you — each movement of his lips was a love confession, etching his adoration onto the curves of your lips. You caressed his cheeks akin to holding stars in your palms — careful, precious.

Finally, you pulled apart to catch your breaths, bodies heaving against each other. 

“Please, give me a second chance.”

It’s odd the way human minds work, because at that very moment, you were reminded of Colette's words. Ones that mentioned a rumoured secret lover.

“But,” you felt silly for saying it, “Your secret lover?”

“My secret lover?” the boy's eyebrows furrowed. He then chuckled upon realization. The rumour must've spread to you. “Ah, that secret lover. It's you, idiot.” 

He smiled. You didn’t think anyone could look as beautiful as he did.

“It's always been you.”

eleven.  

“Careful — come on, get under here.”

Giggles echoed in the alleyways as two shadows lingered in the darkness of midnight. It was raining, the pavements darkening with wetness and the wind howling a sweet melody. At that particular hour, under the moonlight, Paris looked like the city of love. 

You rushed out of the exposition hall, getting under Hyunjin’s leather jacket. He’d promised you the date of your lifetime that night, and he wasn’t one to break his promises. 

Hyunjin’s back was damp from the rain, but it didn’t matter as long as not a droplet landed on your body. It only took a few minutes (and a lot of giggles in between) to reach Hyunjin’s so-called secret spot. 

Streetlights shone on a bench, and clusters of flowers surrounded a little pond. The spot overlooked the city, you could see the city lights from all the way up here. You gasped in awe, it’s no wonder Hyunjin insisted on coming here.

“So beautiful,” you whispered. Hyunjin smiled softly, moving closer towards you on the bench and wrapped an arm around your waist.

While fondly looking at your visage, he muttered. “Yeah, it’s pretty.”

“How’d you find this place?”

“I found it while I was walking one night,” he explained, resting his head on yours. You could smell his shampoo in this closeness. “I was sad. This garden reminded me of the one we used to go to when we were kids.”

Your heart swelled at the confession. 

“It does resemble that one a lot.”

The skies were still drizzling rain, but you were both a little sheltered much thanks to the oak tree above you. Only droplets dripped, falling onto your head but it was a nice sensation. Besides, you couldn’t feel the cold when you’re nuzzled in Hyunjin’s arm, blanketed in his familiar warmth. You allowed silence to third-wheel you, eyes busied with observing the sight. Silence was always comfortable with Hyunjin. The time spent apart hadn’t changed that. 

He wouldn’t leave you alone, his skin constantly touching yours. It burned against you. You didn’t mind it. Instead, you basked in his love, listening to the sounds of his heartbeats as your head rested on his chest. He intertwined your fingers together, his thumb rubbing against yours. He wouldn’t let go of you, not even when he bent down to pluck a flower, slipping the daffodil onto your ear. 

“I missed you,” he murmured. You weren’t sure how much he’d repeated that phrase but you liked it. “I truly did.”

For the thousandth time that night, you responded. “I missed you too.”

The conversation changed into one about your lives, catching up on each other’s shenanigans. It was comfortable, being with Hyunjin. Topics changed seamlessly. You didn’t have to put much effort into talking to him, you just had to be there.

Softly, his hands moved towards your feet, taking off one of your shoes. He held onto your ankle, tracing his pointer across your sole. You giggled, the feather-like touches tickled. 

“You still have the feet of a ballerina.”

“Of course, silly,” you scoffed, “I am one after all.”

“I’m so glad that your dreams came true,” he whispered, putting your leg down. He cupped your cheek, showcasing a fond smile that stretched to his ears. “I’m really happy that you’re here.”

“Of course,” you repeated. “You told me you’d be wherever I am. It’s only fair I returned the favour.”

The words knocked out Hyunjin’s breath, and it filled his soul with so much adoration, he felt like he could burst. A pleading expression was written all over his porcelain visage, the way in which he squeezed your hand expressing his feelings even more.

“Please,” he pleaded. “I need to be yours.”

You kissed him, for the second time that night.

“I’m already yours, Hyunnie.”

twelve.  

Things with Hyunjin had been going exceptionally well. 

After the fated night, you carried on with so much happiness that you practically beamed everywhere you went. One time when you clocked into work, the Double C’s made kissy noises at you, and Charlotte had whispered, “You must’ve had crazy good sex last night.”

You couldn’t deny it, of course.

Date nights with Hyunjin happened thrice a week, with coffee runs in between classes. The Paris Ballet School and Beaux-Arts de Paris weren’t that far from each other, allowing you to sneak lunches together almost daily. Though you had to admit that even if the universities were far, Hyunjin definitely wouldn’t mind spending extra time just to see you. Sometimes, he’d watch you dance, and sometimes, you’d watch him paint. 

It was like you were both making up for the lack of each other the past three years.

After just two weeks of your relationship, you were acquainted with the comfort of Hyunjin’s home. His roommate was barely home, so you felt comfortable with coming over often. Most weekends, you’d spend the night over. 

Morning birds chirped a jolly ballad, waking you from your slumber. You stretched, feeling the heat of Hyunjin’s skin against yours. You couldn’t help the smile that grazed your face when you looked at him, fast asleep under the duvets beside you. Sleepily, you pressed a kiss onto his bare shoulder, then traced the memories of last night, tattooed on his skin in the form of bruises. It pulled a whine from him, moving under the duvet to press himself impossibly closer towards you.

“Flower,” he mumbled, morning voice husky, “I'm cold.”

“Then come cuddle.”

He did as told, wrapping strong arms around you. You felt his fingers ghost against your naked spine, sending heat straight to your core. You couldn't help the whimper that left you, earning a playful grin from your boyfriend. 

“It's too early to get in the mood, no? Baby?”

Flushed, you smacked his arm. “Shut up.”

Hyunjin giggled, leaning towards you to press kisses onto your face. Mornings with him were often spent like this — limbs entangled, as if you were one. 

“Need to shower, baby,” he sighed, “Have an exhibition today.”

To your dismay, he slowly pulled away from you, missing the warmth of his body. 

“You coming to the exposition?”

“Of course,” you hummed. “Go shower. Can I borrow your laptop while you're in the shower?”

“Yeah, baby. The password's your birthday.”

He got up from the bed, and you flushed as you looked at his bare body. Unluckily for you, your boyfriend quickly noticed your flushed face, taking it as an opportunity to throw a pillow at you and call you a pervert. You rolled your eyes, watching him enter the bathroom before getting up, wrapping the duvet around your naked body. 

You walked towards his study to retrieve his laptop, smiling at the artworks displayed on his peg board. One was of you — a painting of the Polaroid he took of you back in the meadow. The Polaroid itself sat at the back of his phone case. He had never taken it out since the first time he put it in back then.

Whilst humming to a melody, you kicked in the digits of your birthday. The laptop unlocked, showcasing the unclosed tabs. 

Your eyes widened at the words written on the screen.

Congratulations, you've been chosen for a student exchange programme to Rome.

Your heart skipped a beat. Repeatedly, your eyes skimmed the words on the screen. You didn't mean to pry but you scrolled through the email, feeling your heart sink upon seeing the date it was sent.

Over a week ago. 

Yet Hyunjin hadn't told you anything. 

After all these years, he was still keeping secrets from you. You couldn't handle it, and so for the sake of your heart you exited the tab, and shut down the laptop. Careful as to not make much noise, you got dressed. 

“Hyunjin,” you knocked on the bathroom door. “Need to be at the academy now. Bye.”

You needed to be away from him — you needed to clear your head.

thirteen.

You hadn't seen Hyunjin for a week.

The texts from him you didn't avoid, responding each time he sent a message. However, you'd been dodging his requests of meeting, under the guise of practice when in truth, you hadn’t gone for classes in a week. You spent your days moping in your apartment. 

Perhaps it was a little childish of you to do, but you couldn't bear the thought of going through what you did before. You'd tasted a life without Hyunjin, and you were certain you didn't want to live through it again. This was your way of mentally preparing for that life again. 

Your limbs lazily stretched across the cotton duvet as a vinyl played in the background. A melodramatic song played, matching the current tune of your heart. You weren't entirely sure what time it was, but the sound of the apartment bell ringing hinted that it was afternoon. It must be the takeout your roommate ordered.

“Reine,” a familiar voice reverberated in your apartment. “Where's Yn?”

“In her bedroom,” your roommate, Reine replied in her thick French accent. “She's been in there moping all week.”

Damn you, Reine. 

Quickly, you buried yourself in your duvet, anticipating the footsteps which approached your room. Soon, your door swung open, and you could smell the white gardenia in his cologne.

“My flower,” his voice tempted you to look, “What’s going on, sweet girl?”

It didn’t help that each syllable that slipped past his lips felt like honey.

You felt his hands pull down your duvet before you came face to face with your boyfriend. He stood before you, hair slicked back and the white blouse he wore accentuated his shoulders. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers, patches of peonies and daffodils peeking from the wrapper. 

You didn’t utter any words, simply looking at him with watery doe eyes. He didn’t miss the glint of tears, immediately setting the bouquet on your nightstand to get onto the bed. Tenderly, he pulled you onto his lap.

“You look so sad,” he mumbled, “Can my sweet girl please tell me why she’s so sad?”

Damn, him. How were you supposed to stand a chance when he was so ridiculously handsome and sweet?

Trembling, you parted your lips to speak. 

“You’re hiding things from me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What things, baby?”

Your eyes shot daggers at him, bottom lip forming into a pout. Hyunjin had to stop himself from leaning in and biting it.

“You got offered to an exchange student programme,” you finally bit the bullet. “You’re planning on keeping it a secret and just leaving me again, aren’t you?”

Ah.

Hyunjin’s eyes softened. He sighed, caressing your cheek in his hand. He shook his head as his free hand rested on your thigh, massaging the supple skin.

“No, I’m rejecting it,” he answered. “I didn’t tell you because I thought there was no point in telling you if I didn’t even want to go.”

“What?” you responded, voice a little higher than you intended it to be. Your eyes scanned his for any lies. “Hyunjin — it’s a good opportunity.”

“What, you don’t want me here anymore?” he joked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Baby, Paris is already enough for me. I don’t really want to move again.”

You nodded at his words. A huge part of you felt relieved — and you felt awful for feeling that way. 

Love, sometimes, is about being selfish after all.

“Were you sad because you thought I was going?” your boyfriend queried, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You shrugged. “A little. I was more mad that you didn’t tell me.”

“Oh,” he nodded, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, I just didn’t mention it because it felt insignificant.”

“I want you to tell me things,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck. It left goosebumps in its wake. “I want to know these things.”

“Okay," he mumbled. Something about his compliance made you feel fonder of him. "I'll start telling you these things."

A sigh of relief left your lips. You had known Hyunjin for years, but being with him was different. A good kind of difference. It would take you a while to adjust to these changes — but it was the kind of changes you'd want to adjust to.

Hyunjin's fingers trailed to your hips, ghosting over your skin until they reached your thighs. He traced the stretch marks there, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You couldn't help the whine that left your mouth, and the heat that arose, tainting the tips of your ears in crimson. Hyunjin enjoyed this — flustering you with his ministrations. He allowed you to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, whimpering as he felt your lips litter kisses on his most sensitive spots.

"I love you," he confessed, like honey dripping from lips. "Promise I'll be wherever you are."

disclaimer — © 2024 hyunverse on tumblr. all rights reserved. authors works are protected under the copyright law. do not plagiarize or translate my works. tumblr is my only platform.

taglist: @zoe8stay , @starlostseungmin , @starlostlaiba , @hwajin , @sleepyleeji , @skizzel-reblogs, @jdopes-recorder , @sherryblossom , @cb97whoree , @alyszaen , @aaliyahxsx , @jeonginsyoungestsibling , @hyunluvxo , @bokk-minnie , @ghostyycat7 , @fortunatelyhertragedy @yongbokkari @ameliesaysshoo @seoli-16 @jisungsdaydreamer @soobnny @seolboba @in2heartz @jehhskz @astraystayyh @mnwrld

#k-labels #kflixnet #straykidsland #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #hyunjin thirst #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin oneshots #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids x yn #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #skz smut

[moralesmilesanhour]

Could you maybe write something with Miles G. where the reader is kind of shy? Like they go to her house and room for the first time and the reader is nervous about it?

Your house was across the street from the basketball court where Miles first saw you.

When the court was empty, you liked to sit on a bench and doodle in an old composition notebook. No one could look over your shoulder here.

Miles had had a game coming up and felt that his shooting accuracy had been off lately, so he stopped here after school to get in some extra practice. You tensed when you heard his sneakers approaching the entrance, keeping your eyes down and praying that he wouldn't make you leave.

He walked right past you and said nothing.

Only the sound of his footsteps and the basketball he was carrying bouncing across the asphalt could be heard for the entire time he was there until he left.

At some point, Miles came to the same conclusion you did previously and started practicing around the same time every day. You drew, he hooped, the two of you left without a word. A careful routine.

Occasionally, you held your breath and dared to look up to watch him play. Miles' long cornrows brushed his shoulders and flew behind him with every shot, you noticed with amusement. It wasn't long before he made a few appearances in your notebook.

You looked up from your doodling one day and noticed him glancing in your direction. He made another shot, then did it again. And again. After a particularly smooth lay-up, Miles looked back with a grin playing on his face. Once it dawned on you that he was making direct eye-contact, you didn't know what else to do other than smile back.

"You don't talk much, do you?" He would ask you while leaving the court together just before curfew.

"I guess not," you responded in a near whisper.

Miles looked up in thought, then nodded.

"That's alright. Means you think a lot."

Smiles soon turned into winks which turned into short conversations and banter, and now you were both standing in front of the door to your room.

"You gonna go inside?" Miles asked when you hesitantly placed a hand on the doorknob.

"Y-yeah, we could go in."

"I think you need to open the door for that."

"...Right."

With a deep breath, you turned the knob.

The door opened up to a small bedroom with lopsided blinds only up halfway. You winced at the small pile of clothes you had left sitting on a swivel chair as you passed it. What a relief that you hadn't forgotten to make your bed this morning like you usually do.

Miles kicked his sneakers off at the entrance before following behind you. The way he scanned the room made you shift uncomfortably. Suddenly you noticed all of the tiny cracks in the ceiling and blemishes on the walls.

"Cool lights," he remarked, referring to the repurposed Christmas lights strung across your walls.

You relaxed a bit, and grabbed a tiny remote that had been sitting on your desk with an awkward smile. "I can turn them on if you want. They've got a buncha different patterns."

"Knock yourself out. Can I sit?"

"Sure."

You joined him on your bed as you pressed a button on the remote that caused the string lights to twinkle softly. They added a cozy contrast to the harsh neon lights from the towering skyscrapers outside that were visible from your window. It almost felt like a separate world.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, entranced by the different patterns blinking above you. It might've been the closest you would ever get to seeing fireworks up close.

"Sorry I don't have any games or anything," you spoke up suddenly. "You must be bored."

Miles turned to face you, closer than he had ever been before today. Close enough for you to realize that his right eye wasn't the same hazel brown as the left, but rather a warm green. He tilted his head quizzically.

"If I was bored, I'd be at home right now."

"But we haven't said anything in like, twenty minutes," you started to laugh.

"You think I like you for bein' a chatterbox?" he parried back.

You shrugged, then leaned your head on his shoulder. "Fair enough."

#earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #requests #moralesanhour #miles morales x gn reader

[hoesformatt]

FILLING UP A PRINCESS

chris smut, “my BD got a big D, filling up a princess”

dom!chris • poc!reader friendly

contains: Chris as your baby daddy??? missionary, stomach bulging, pet names (princess, mama and calling him daddy), entirely nude, no use of y/n, sex talk (no megan), touching/groping, breeding kink, oral (fem receiving), unprotected/raw sex, hella fucking freaky i can’t een hold you

word count: 0.8k

not-proofread

“Baby I need you right now” I nagged and he approached me and placed his lips on my ear.

“I know princess, just wait till they leave and i’ll fuck you” This whole day I’ve been hanging out with my baby father and his brothers at my house. Matt and Nick were poking, prying and playing around with their nephew Isaiah until he fell asleep.

Matt laid his nephew into the crib as his eyes just began to glue shut, falling asleep peacefully to only hear the sound of Isaiah’s snores.

Nick had already started to pack his and Matt’s stuff to leave because Chris was staying over for the weekend to spend time with us. They picked up their backpacks hugging both me and Chris before opening our front door and leaving.

We watched them pull out our driveway, and drive off from the front porch and I ran back into the house in the fear of the cold.

I ran upstairs to change from the tracksuit I was wearing the whole day into a less thicker and less clothed outfit in general, I was cooking, talking and handling my child within 8 hours and this was finally my cool down time.

I weaved out my room making sure I didn’t make any noise to wake up the baby in the next room, stealthily. Approaching the living room I glanced to see Chris on couch just scrolling through his phone. I walked across the table and grabbed the remote that was sat in-front of him turning it off.

I felt a hand graze my thigh, and I turned to look back at Chris’ hand caressing thigh shifting up againist my ass.

Me and Chris were ‘highschool sweethearts’ as people would say but we weren’t even technically together, which is why I call him my baby daddy and not boyfriend.

He pulled my waist towards his body, signalling for me to sit on his lap. I spread my legs to put each of my knees on both sides of his body, straddling him.

Chris’ hands grasped my waist staring straight up into my eyes before kissing at neck, then down to my shoulder. His hot kisses prickled my skin giving me satisfaction as he snaked his fingers unclasping my bra under my shirt peeling it off me.

I stopped him “We need to go into my room, we’ll wake him up if we make noise in here” He carries me up, his hands supporting be from my ass into the room down the hallway.

He laid me gently on the middle of bed then pulling me to be almost at the edge of the bed. Chris got down on his knees ripping off my short-shorts and I felt his warm breath on my wet cunt, placing his tongue there to start doing tricks, flicking his tongue on my clit.

I gasped loudly to then slap my hand to cover my mouth while my chest heaved heavily with Chris’ moist tongue exploring every part of my pussy leaving no place unlicked.

I tried to keep my legs open but I failed miserably because they began fall and close together but he just dragged me onto him, wrapping his arms around my thighs, Chris’ face completely nuzzling into my cunt.

Collecting his brunette locks in my hands I couldn’t help myself to the pleasure as reached my peak, “Fuck daddy, yes!” He removed his face from my heat spanking the side of my ass. “Quiet.”

All he needed to do was to take off my cropped top and I was completely naked and he removed his shirt, loosening his sweat-pant strings withdrawing of them. Chris’ cock flung out and I gazed at him, needing to feel his length abusing my pussy.

Chris relaxed me back pulling me to prop my body up causing my back to arch while he positions his dick to press into me leisurely. “Shittt, you’re so fucking tight princess” My walls clenched around his throbbing length as he begun thrust into me slowly.

“Look at that mama, you can see my cock poking out your stomach” Chris grasped my stomach seeing the print but my eyes were withering close with all the pleasure and sensation I was feeling. He pushed up on me burying his cock in me and moved so our chests would be touching each other’s.

“So beautiful” He kissed my cheek before we gaped down to both watch him pull out and push back. Chris’ dick will rubbing against my insides, digging deeper hitting my g-spot. “Daddy please right there— Fuck right there daddy” Our skin slapped together as he thrusted into me harder making my body quiver with all the stimulation.

“Feel good princess?” He said breathily, not slowing down or stopping “Yes I feel good— Mm fuck, fuck— you make me feel so good daddy” Chris smirked watching my eyes roll back.

“I need to cum, I’m gonna cum” Chris nodded towards me pressing firmly into me until I felt my rush ripple throughout my body as he came into me, coating my insides.

“What are we going to name this baby?”

tags: @chrisenthusiast @miguelsangel @lunariaxzz @thesturniolos @angelic-sturniolos111 @littlebookworm803 @chrissturniolosbitch @leahsbussy @urmom2fresh @luv4kozume @alinaa131 @sturniolopowers @mattslolita @sturniofilmd @sturnioloooooo

#chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #hoesformatt #riyahspeaks #sturniolo triplets #smut #fics #fan fiction #fan fic #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo

[sanjisboyfie]

toji fluff hcs.

requested, and i had sm fun writing this bc I DO AGREE ANON the toji x male reader tag is just full of smut atp there is never any fluff T.T i hope u enjoy lovely

toji x male reader <3 takes place before canon (mamaguro kinda dont exist sawry)

— the thing is, toji has a very, very thick wall around his heart and he rarely lets anyone in, ever. that's why! in this hc im gonna say that you two met via his job and just worked really well as partners. and then overtime, the two of you just got closer until finally toji makes a move on you.

the two of you were sitting at a restaurant, going over the recent job that you just finished. toji hummed at what you were saying, taking a swig of his beer as he remained eye contact with you.

recently, he's been seeing you in a different light. recently as in the past couple of months. he's just been taking note of everything you've done and how attractive you are when doing them. after he noticed he was thinking these things, he just accepted the fact he had a major crush on you and shrugged it off.

a part of him expected it to happen - how could he not have some sort of romantic feelings for you when you were so witty, strong, and intelligent. he was bound to catch some feelings for you, whether he wanted to or not.

he accepted it really quickly and decided he wanted to make it obvious sooner or later. the fact was he wouldn't know how you felt unless he initiated something.

so as he sat across from you, elbows resting on the table, until he got an idea.

"got somethin'," he said, motioning to his cheek. before you could wipe it off though, he dragged his thumb over your skin and collected the sauce of the food that you were eating onto his digit. he sucked it clean off, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. "wait, missed a spot, c'mere,"

he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours in a quick, chaste kiss before smirking at your stunned expression, "got it,"

after that, you obviously questioned him because what the fuck. toji just shrugs, explains how he's liked you for some time and decided to make it known now. he goes on to explain that since you're both adults, you could compromise a mature way of going about your relationship on the off-chance you didn't like him back (he's shitting bricks when he talks about that part though, you just can't tell-)

you return his feelings after getting over the initial shock.

and that was toji's unromantic way of confessing to you, but still, it got the job done and ever since that day the two of you couldn't be happier.

— contrary to popular belief, i think that toji is a big romantic. when he finds the right person, he wants it to be known that he's interested in them, loyal, and a devoted lover. in his own ways, he gives a lot of romantic attention to you and the time you spend together. even if he's dead broke, he'll find a way to make ends meet in making your relationship feel as special as it is to him.

"c'mon, baby," he goads you into grabbing his hand, rolling his eyes when you shoot him a look. "let's go, the reservation isn't gonna be waiting for anyone else but us,"

"yeah, how did you do this though? toji, this place is so expensive, are you sur-"

he kisses you to shut you up, hand caressing your cheek as he speaks to you in a low voice, "i got it all handled, don't worry about it," that translates to you = i pulled a couple of strings by threatening the boss of this place to let us eat here for free. but you couldn't will yourself to care because it was the thought that counts! plus, he went through all that effort just to secure you two a romantic evening together.

so you ruffled his messy dark locks and allowed him to guide you inside the lavish restaurant. he smirked in content, kissing the top of your head before securing you two your promised table.

—

on your anniversary, he showers you in so much love and affection it's insane. he doesn't have the money to bring about the most lavish celebration, unfortunately, but he does make up for it by being extra doting.

"love you so much," is the first thing he mumbles into your skin. it takes you a second to register why he was being so lovey-dovey, but when you remember it was because the calendar marks two years of officially being together, your heart warms.

toji has a good memory, remembers all the important dates and what you like and don't like. he's got it all stores in his memory under the "everything about [name]" folder there, that has other information such as your food preferences, what you like to wear, what you enjoy watching on TV, etc.

his hands run up and down your sides, pinching your nipple to get you awake and laughing when you smack him with the pillow. "sorry, just wanted to get you up so we don't waste our entire day in bed!"

"what if i wanted to just be in bed with you?" you asked, rubbing your chest with an annoyed look on your face.

"sorry, baby boy, but no can do," toji says, peppering kisses on your face, "got the whole day planned out in my head," you ignore his loving kisses that start trailing to you neck.

"mhm and what's that?"

"it's a surprise, don't ruin it," he warns you in an oddly serious tone, "want to make today special, let me make it special, boy,"

you laugh at his seemingly annoyed tone, but let him have his moment - not pressing for anymore answers.

— not the biggest on public affection, but doesn't hide the fact that he's yours and you're his. always has his arms around your shoulders or waist, sometimes pecks your cheek. but that's as far as it goes with pda. verbally, on the other hand, he's always mentioning you. even in brief interactions with other people, he's slipping mentions of you into conversation with such ease and smoothness.

"will that be all today?" the barista asks, eyeing toji up and down. and he's not a stupid guy, he notices it easily.

so to assert himself, he clears his throat and looks over the menu, "nah, actually, let me get a cinnamon bun for my boyfriend," he says, pulling out his wallet and taking out some cash, "he's been wanting somethin' sweet for a while, so i guess i can treat him to this," he comments, looking back at you with a smile. you were already seated at the table as he ordered, offering him a wave before looking back out the window.

the barista is obviously dejected when he mentions you, but he's nothing but prideful and satisfied. serves her right.

—

"didn't [name] already tell you we won't be taking the job? we got our entire week already planned out, we can't fit in another mission," toji said over the phone. it was one of the rare instances he was turning down the opportunity to make money, but he didn't feel bad or guilty about it.

you and him had a whole week planned together, it's been in the calendar for months now and he wasn't going to ruin the rare one-on-one time he could have with you by being greedy with some extra cash.

in the past, he might've. but you changed him, in a good way. and he wasn't going to make it seem like he valued cash over you because he definitely didn't.

"i wasn't aware that [name] spoke for the both of you? y'know, if you take him out of the equation, toji, you actually make more money-"

toji almost growled, "he fucking said no, that means i said no, too. don't be an asshole right now or i might really get pissed. from now on, whatever my man says think about it as if he's speaking on behalf of both of us. same goes for me. so listen closely when i say this, cause i'm sure he'd say the same thing to you right now: fuck off!"

he hangs up the phone and tosses it onto the table, rubbing his forehead in annoyance.

"everything alright, babe? you were yelling?" you shout from your shared bedroom and toji visibly relaxes after hearing your voice.

"nah, everythin's alright, doll, don't worry about it," he calls back, kicking his feet up onto the table and spreading his arms against the couch cushions, "hurry your ass down here, though, or else i'm starting without you!"

— huge believer in cuddling, loves, loves just holding you in his arms. it's the one time he really feels as if his stress just washes away. he's a big guy, so he usually just ends up completely blanketing over your own body. but usually, he settles for just being the big spoon and staying satisfied like that. sometimes, though, he will want to just have you completely laid out on top of him as you act as some sort of weighted blanket. that's if he's really, really stressed and just needs to be reminded that you're there for him.

his hands rest on your hips as he's laid flat on his back, holding you in place on top of him. you have been struggling to get comfortable for the past five minutes and he had to bite his tongue from saying a snarky comment to you.

"fuck, toji, it's like i'm sleeping on a rock," you complain, pushing yourself up from his torso and glaring at him, "can't i just sleep next to you like a normal person,"

he keeps his eyes shut, not bothering to wake himself from his semi-sleepy state, "[name], just stay still for a second and you'll eventually get sleepy,"

"easy for you to say when you're on the comfort of the mattress,"

"don't you say my boobs make for good pillows or something," he groans, finally cracking one eye open to weakly glare at you, "just use them as your pillows and count fucking sheep,"

"but your-"

"shh, you big baby, i just need this for tonight," he promptly shuts you up but pushing his finger on your lips. in any other instance, that would've just pissed you off even more, but seeing how genuinely tired and needy he was, you let it slide. just this once.

you settled back on his chest, running your fingers up and down his sides to give some sort of comfort.

"love you, toji," you breathe out, barely loud enough for him to hear.

but he does, and he squeezes your sides to show that he did, kissing the top of your head and whispering it back before he's lulled to his own slumber.

— always thinking about you. he's only concerned with you. every single other person in the world can fuck themselves, he just cares about you and wants to make sure you're safe.

"where's [name]?" were the first words he asked their employer, looking around the office space in search of your h/c hair.

"he just went to get himself some water-" as toji is informed of that, he's standing up out of the seat he was in and is going to leave in search of you. "he should be back in a couple short moments,"

"hm, don't care, i'm going to look for him and then we can start this meeting," toji said, not giving another glance to the guy that was going to give the both of you a job to finish.

oddly enough, the meeting was held in a corporate looking building and toji was concerned on your whereabouts. what if these assholes had some fucked up trick up their sleeve and were going to use you as leverage to get to him? toji wouldn't put it past them, he's messed with more than a couple powerful folks back in his day.

it could bite him in the ass someday and he really didn't want to risk that chance affecting you.

"toji? what are you doing here?" you ask, coming towards him with two paper cups of water in your hands.

"looking for you, babe," he easily responds, looking at the water in interest, "where'd that come from?"

"they had pitchers in their breakroom and i decided-"

"could have poision in them," toji said off handedly, looking at the contents and his face screwing up in distaste, "hold off on drinking it for now, these guys can be unpredictable sometimes,"

taking his warnings seriously, you don't sip from the cup at all and walk back with him to the meeting room. his hand rests on your waist protectively as the two of you walk through the halls, glaring at anyone who stares for a bit too long.

like a personal guard dog, toji is always standing at attention and assuming the worst of people. but don't worry, he doesn't mind. if it means it keeps you safe and in his arms, he'll be as paranoid as one can get and not have an issue with that at all.

— at the end of the day, toji doesn't listen to anyone, but you. it's funny how obediant you can get this absolute unit of man to act. he tries not to make it so obvious, but when he's hanging off of every word you say and acting at your beck and call, it's already obvious to everyone around you where his priorities are at.

"toji, don't touch that - the sign says not to touch,"

"if i wanna touch it, i will," toji says with a shrug and smirk. but then he notices the warning look you give him as his fingers inch closer to the display. he clicks his tongue in annoyance, dropping his hand to his side as he muttering under his breath, "didn't wanna even touch it, anyway, tch,"

or another time when he's giving the waiter an earful for not remembering something in your order. he thinks he's doing you a favor by speaking up for you, but in reality, you just didn't want to make the waiter's life harder than it already is.

"he asked specifically for you guys to put it on the side since he doesn't lik-"

"baby, it's fine, just drop it," you sigh, rubbing your forehead with a tired look in your eyes. he's about to protest, a scowl on his face as he thinks about the waiter incompentence. but with one look from you and a calm, "toji, enough," reaching his ears, he's standing down and shutting up.

the waiter shoots you a thankful look before running off to the kitchen with your plate of food, going off to correct his mistakes.

"couldn't hurt you to speak more nicely to people," you say, grabbing his hand across the table and shooting him a look. he scoffs, taking your hand in his and calming himself down using your touch.

toji only ever listens to one person in his life and it's you. you're just really lucky he loves you so much because if it was any other person, he'd be doing their head in. he sighs, thinking of the affects you've had on him and his own steel, hard heart.

he can't help but be thankful. he kisses the back of your hand silently, squeezing it in his hold once more before shooting you a small, barely noticeable smile.

"if that fuck ass even thinks about looking at you with those puppy dog eyes of his one more time, though, i can't promise i won't nail him right in the face," and there's your familiar, stubborn toji back again, easily threatening a poor guy that's just doing his job.

#jjk male reader #jujutsu kaisen male reader #toji male reader #toji x male reader #toji x reader #toji reader #toji fushiguro x male reader #toji fushiguro x reader #GUARD DOG #SCARY DOG PRIVILEGES #TOJI FUSHIGURO EVERYONE #A SECRET SOFTIE FOR HIS BOYFIE #toji fushiguro male reader #toji fluff #toji fushiguro fluff #jjk fluff #toji fushiguro headcanons #toji headcanons

[chloeangelic]

the paper salesman

Brother's best friend!Jim Halpert x f!reader Rating: 18+ My masterlist I Max's masterlist

Summary: You spot your childhood crush at a birthday party and end up in his room together.

Warnings: Smut, AU where Pam does not exist, alcohol, oral (f receiving), handjob, semi protected PIV, creampie, squirting.

A/N: Well, well, well, if it isn't me and my froggy friend @macfrog back with another fic. But this time, it's not satire - this one is actually serious, and we are taking full advantage of everyone's teenage crush on season 2 Jim.

Word count: 6k

You pick at the edge of your wine glass, nodding along as the sound of your brother’s girlfriend talking about work turns into a low, buzzing sort of hum, indistinguishable from the other voices in the room. It seems that turning thirty was the catalyzing event for your older brother’s birthday parties to turn from all-nighters at clubs to barbecues at his new house. The attendance changed too — what used to be a crowd of girls in tight, short dresses has been replaced by a landscape of coworkers and childhood friends that he has reconnected with over the past year. 

There’s a couple people singing karaoke by the TV across the room, and although neither of them are singing in tune, you cheer them on as you half-heartedly listen to your future sister-in-law’s story. People are scattered around in groups of two, three, or four, chatting amongst themselves against the tapestry of multicolored string lights and framed photos. You can’t imagine your brother had much to do with the interior design choices, and assume Stacie took him to the department store and filled a shopping cart with lights and lamps and frames that would make the living space for two thirty-year-old men a little less bland and sterile. 

But still, despite the obvious decorative touch of Mark’s girlfriend around the room – you can’t help but wonder which parts were chosen by his roommate.

Jim Halpert – your brother’s best friend for as long as you can remember. Six-foot-something, polite and awkwardly charming. Lingering on your front steps to walk with Mark to school, backpack slung over one shoulder, or waiting patiently in the kitchen doorway while your brother finishes eating dinner, a basketball sat in the ‘c’ of his elbow. Making a whole lot of nothing conversation with your mom about school, about how his brothers were doing, growing bashful when she’d bring up girlfriends.

He’s five years older than you, but that ten-year-old ghost of yourself would sit twirling the fork in her fingers, mindlessly dragging mashed potato around her plate. Watching the way he’d toss the flicks of fringe from his eyes, cross one foot over the other as he answered every incessant question of your mother’s with the dutiful respect of a well-raised boy. Your crush was obvious back then, easily spotted by her whenever Jim stayed for dinner. You’d look away, bite back your smile and try to stifle your laugh at his jokes, hoping he wouldn’t notice. That little crush stayed with you, despite the boys you went on to date in high school, and the ones you slept with and tried to get serious with in college to no avail. Every time you came back from the holidays, Jim would inevitably show up for dinner one day, and you would revert back to that shy ten-year-old, sitting in the same seats as you did back then. 

You watched him become a man in front of your eyes, and by the time you started getting physical with your first boyfriend, little thoughts began to weasel themselves into your mind about Jim. It was entirely inappropriate, and that curiosity should have directed itself exclusively to the boy who had taken you out to the movies, to prom and to homecoming, but you wondered what Jim looked like shirtless, you wondered about his experience, about the size of his cock. One weekend in your freshman year of college, with nothing else to do but to visit your parents, you tagged along with Mark to his basketball game, and sat on the bleachers with your eyes glued to Jim, to the sweat that darkened his jersey and the undeniable bulge in his shorts. He came up to say hi after, his brown hair drenched with sweat as well, looking at you through stunning green eyes as he asked how school was going. You made him laugh with a story about a professor, and the sound of his chuckles echoed in your mind the rest of the night. He had moved out of his parents’ house by then, and started working as a salesman at a paper company in town. 

He still works there – as far as you know, at least, based on what he told you the last time you saw him, picking him and Mark up from their high school reunion two years back. 

Mark had drank a little too much and had needed Jim’s steady arm around his shoulder to direct him to your car. You swallowed down the butterflies which quickly took flight in your stomach as you watched the two figures stumble towards your Honda, the taller of the two lending you a small smile as he slotted your brother into the front seat. You kept your composure right up until he closed the front door, and then you sped all the way home with your heart racing and your blood pumping.

“Some people are just allergic to receiving help,” Stacie announces, yelling a little over the screeching of the karaoke mics. She’s rambling to one of Mark’s coworkers – Hal? Sal? – about one of her co-workers, some new kid fresh from college who can’t work the printer by himself and refuses to let her show him.

You’re about to get up for a refill when a weight slides onto the couch by your side, nudging you with a sweatered elbow.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he mutters, and when you turn, your breath catches at the sight of those familiar green eyes and flicks of brown hair.

“Hey,” you reply, fingers awkwardly lifting to tuck some hair behind your ear. You feel a heat flush into your cheeks and pray it doesn’t show in an embarrassing dewy glow to Jim. “Cool party. Karaoke’s a nice touch.”

“Eh,” he shrugs, giving you his signature smirk. His voice is so deep, a little husky even, as he sits close, “It’s an easy way to keep the guests entertained without me having to do much of anything, or your brother, for that matter.” 

You hum in response, reluctantly annoyed that Mark is already at the front of his mind when he sees you. “Are you still working that paper job?”, you ask, raising an eyebrow and hoping that your nerves don’t come across, that he’ll simply consider you as flirty to everyone if your attempts don’t land.  

“Yeah,” he says, nodding, picking at the label of his beer bottle for a moment. 

“Salesman of the year?” 

“Well,” he chuckles, his head tilting to the side, a little unsure, “Maybe sometimes.” Is he embarrassed? Shy? You watch his eyes as they flicker up and scan the room. “What are you up to these days?”, he asks when his eyes land back on you, flaring open for a split second before they settle on yours. 

“You know,” you shrug, eyes looping once around the room, “Working, the usual.” You feel your chest tighten with an urge to come up with something more fucking interesting than work. Your fingers hooked behind your ear again, you sputter, “Got my hair done last week.”

Jim smiles, reassuringly so. “Yeah,” he says, nodding, “I can tell. It looks good. I like the, uh –”, he points a little haphazardly, “The way you styled it. Suits you.”

“Thanks,” your cheeks swell in a genuine smile, averting his gaze as the compliment seeps into your skin. You twirl the stem of your glass in your fingers, and Jim knocks a knuckle against the rim.

“You need a top up?”, he asks, standing up.

“Yeah, actually,” you reply, taking his hand when he offers it and pulling yourself to your feet.

You follow him through to the kitchen, dodging the erratic arm movements of some guy chittering to Mark about stocks, and over to the fridge. You lean your hip against the counter, watching as Jim carefully refills your wine and slides it back across to you.

You take a tentative sip under his watchful gaze, and raise your eyebrows, nodding subtly in approval as you swallow, “This is pretty good. What’s a guy like you doing with decent wine in his fridge?” 

He lets out a nervous laugh and looks around, takes a sip of the glass he poured himself. “I actually got it for a, uh- a date, a couple weeks ago,” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks, looking out through the dining room, “She said it was good so I figured I’d get some for tonight.” 

Oof. A tinge of jealousy makes your stomach curl, and you take another large sip, forcing it down as you think of what to say. You can still hear the out of tune melodies from the living room, though the silence between you and Jim drowns out the noise. “What did you do?”, you ask, hoping you can mask your jealousy with a sneaky tone. 

“Took her to dinner a few times, walked around a bit, came back here and had some wine.”

You want to gag, just a little bit. “And how come she’s not here tonight then?”

“Didn’t really, uh– didn’t really work out, so…” 

“So you’re just sitting here day in and day out with her wine in the fridge, waiting for her to come back?” 

Jim breathes a laugh, pushing the air from his cheeks, “Alright. Wow. That one stung.”

You giggle, taking a step closer, “I’m just messing with you,” you say into your glass. Each splash of alcohol over your tongue filling you with more courage.

He tilts his head, eyebrows cocked, “Tell me about your love life, then, up on your high horse.”

You stifle another girlish giggle, using it to mask your reaction to the awkward question. Your love life – if you could even call it that – has been even more miserable than Jim’s sounds. Messages left on read, painful first dates with jocks still stuck in their high school eras, with uptight career men who only cared to talk about themselves, or with guys who had weird hobbies and left you to pay the bill for a date they asked you on.

You’ve gotten good at avoiding the topic with your mom, turning it instead into conversation about Mark and Stacie, framing it into a question of, When are they thinking of getting married? Having kids of their own, right, Mom?, but standing in front of the one guy you’ve been shamelessly crushing on since you were ten years old – it becomes a little harder to divert.

“Uh,” you mumble, the rim of your glass balanced on your bottom lip, “I’m – I’m just taking some time to myself right now, you know? Focusing on me.”

He grins, almost gleeful. Electricity pulses through your veins. “Nice save,” he tells you, tipping his glass towards you, “I hear what you’re really saying.”

“Oh?” 

“Yep,” he says, matter-of-factly, “You also got dumped at Red Lobster.”

You snort, then apologize, closing your eyes and trying to stifle your grin as you try to collect yourself. “Red lobster,” you clear your throat, “That’s pretty bad. At least it wasn’t Chili’s. And I would know, cause I got dumped at Chili’s.” 

The two of you keep it together for a few moments, looking at the floor, until you meet each other’s eyes and burst into laughter, having this absolutely pathetic little thing in common. The sound of his laugh makes your chest flutter, the sight of his smile and his hand running through his hair. He wipes the tears from his eyes as he looks at you, and you bite the tip of your tongue, trying to halt the uncontrollable giggles that make your stomach hurt. 

When you’re composed, a couple more swigs of wine down your throat, you settle back against the counter and say, “So. When’s the tour leaving?”

Jim’s eyebrows lift, “The tour?”

You nod, “House tour. Mark hasn’t shown me around yet. The most I’ve seen is your downstairs bathroom.”

He scoffs. Pushes off from the counter, the wine in his glass splashing, “He’s a terrible host. C’mon, I’ll show you around.”

Your heels click along the tile floor as you squeeze between bodies, heading for the hallway where Jim pauses. “Bathroom,” he says, nodding to the door right by the stairs, “But you already knew that.” He steps back against the wall at the first step, holding a hand out to usher you up first. “Ladies first,” he says, smiling genially.

You snort, but waltz by his body, holding onto the handrail as you climb the stairs carefully, the alcohol mixed with your shoe choice making it a dangerous feat. Jim’s close behind, footsteps slowly echoing your own, and you can’t help but think of the tight, short skirt of your dress, the way it hugs your thighs, the placement of his gaze as he wanders up behind you.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you look around at the assortment of doors, waiting for Jim to tell you which room serves as the first stop. You can sense him right behind you, slightly to your side, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him looking down at you, swallowing slowly. “Mark’s room,” he says, nodding to the right and waiting until you look up at him before he takes a step over and opens the door. He lets you peek inside, look around until you nod and step back, before he urges you forward, towards another door. 

“Upstairs bathroom,” he remarks, and you give the room a similar examination, noticing the streak-free mirror. 

“Looks… clean,” you say, as if there’s anything better to say about a typical bathroom. He gives a muttered thanks in return, then points to the last door. 

“And that’s my room.” 

“May I?”, you grin, then step fully inside, looking around at his bed, his dresser, and finally, his desk. You sit down in the office chair and give it a test spin, before your attention is caught by the art on the wall. “What’s this?”, you ask, while he steps in as well, hesitating for a second as he looks at the door, opting to leave it open before he comes over and sits down on his bed. 

Jim’s head wobbles as he searches for an answer. “It’s – well, it’s – you know. It’s…a print that I…liked.”

“You have no idea, do you?”

“Not a clue,” he responds, quick as a bullet. “I saw it at a yard sale – thought it went with the colors of my bedsheets. That’s how interior design works, right?”

You smile, “Sure. You’re no Stacie, but – sure.”

Jim nods. Your eye is drawn to the dip in the bed where he sits, the weight of his wide frame on the mattress. His open thighs, his elbows resting on his knees, wine swirling as he slowly rocks the glass. He slowly lifts it to his lips, taking a sip without breaking your stare.

You cross your legs by instinct. Your skirt rides a little higher. Jim glances down, and then straight back up. You can feel your blood thrumming through every limb, every part of your body sensitized and alight. It doesn’t help any when he stands from the bed and wanders over, towering over you as he looks at something on the desk.

He reaches over your shoulder, and you can smell his cologne on his sweater, sharp and fresh, a hint of something sweeter. He pulls a photo frame from the shelf behind you and turns it around.

“Graduation,” he says, and your eyes are drawn down to the cheesy grins of him and your brother, donned in black mortarboards and sweeping gowns.

You nod, pretending you’re paying attention. But he’s so close that his jeans rub against your bare legs, so close that you’re staring up just to meet his eye. Your palms begin to perspire, his voice turning into a blur as he points to a couple other frames, photos of people you didn’t recognize in places you couldn’t quite place. The rest of your wine is downed in a single sip, the glass carefully placed behind you, on the surface of his desk. 

Jim seems to have finished recounting memories to you, but he doesn’t move. Stays stood over you, his own drink forgotten on the floor by his bed. A silence falls between you – but not the thick, awkward kind of silence you’re used to around guys. It’s lighter, it’s breathable. It swirls around your limbs like the fluttering feeling in your belly, wraps tightly around them and pushes you to your feet, the back of Jim’s chair rocking against his desk.

You’re eye-to-eye, your chest pushing gently against his. He glances down to your lips, wet with wine and the dabbing of your tongue, and then back up. He leans in, curving around your shoulders to set the photo frame still in his hand back on the desk. When he straightens up again, your hands find his chest.

You stare at one another, seemingly a thousand words exchanged between your soft, drunken gaze and his – and yet, none of them pass your lips. There’s a weight on your waist – Jim’s hands either side of your body, squeezing the tight fabric of your dress. You tilt your head, moving closer, lips parting. And he leans in.

He kisses you, slow at first. Your hands lift to cup his jaw, steady yourself on the weight of him. All of your past selves begin to bubble to the surface, each one lighting your skin, pulling on every nerve. Jim feels warm, his lips wet and sweet from the alcohol. Your nails sift through his hair, tugging gently as he pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth. He groans lightly, seemingly as hungry for you as you are for him, holding himself back, handling you with a care and gentleness you hope he might set aside. You’ve wanted him for so long and you’ll let him do anything, you want all of him, you want him to ravage you and fuck you until you stumble down the staircase and until you can never look your brother in the eyes. 

There’s a smashing sound from downstairs and a squeal, followed by a chorus of disappointment from the other guests. It splits the two of you apart, bumping teeth as your lips disconnect. You’re both panting, hot breath occupying the space between you. You can feel the hardness of his bulge pushing against you, and your arousal building, spreading to the tips of your breasts as your nipples harden. He’s huge, you can already tell, and you swallow around a lump in your throat, trying not to think of how long it’s been since you felt a man inside of you. 

Jim smiles, still holding you close to his body. Your hands wrap around his wrists, and you lean into him again to whisper, “I think we should close the door.”

He nods, and steps back to let you by. You close the door slowly, letting it thud into place as quiet as you can, despite the obvious chaos happening downstairs. When you step back towards him, his eyes are on yours, hands reaching out to pull you closer, one around your waist and one around the nape of your neck, letting you melt into his hold while he locks his lips with yours. You hope he can’t feel the rapid beating of your heart or the dampness of your skin, letting your hands fall to the edge of his pants and starting to fumble with the button. 

You start to unzip his jeans while he walks you back towards his bed, licking into your mouth and nibbling on your lower lip. You slip a hand down over his clothed cock, carefully palming it and feeling the girth and contours against your skin. He lets out a slight grunt at your touch, moving his hand down to squeeze your ass cheek through your dress, his large hand grabbing your flesh and kneading it with the aggression you’ve been hoping for, just a hint of it coming through in the firmness of his grasp. 

He reaches the bed as you draw your hand out of his pants and dip your fingers behind his waistband, feeling the goosebumps spreading across his skin, grabbing hold of the stretchy fabric and lifting it up, over his erection, pulling it down alongside his pants to see his cock hanging free, flushed and wet at the tip. You bite his lip before you pull back to look, and can’t help a whimper escaping your throat as you brush your fingertips along his length. It feels endless, long veins bulging out that you trace with your nails. He's so thick, wide at the root, all the way to the tip. He can't possibly fit inside but you clench at the thought of him trying. Another pearly bead of precome spills out from his slit at your touch, and with his hands still grasping your neck and the meat of your ass, you gently rub the pad of your thumb over this head, feeling the slick slide of his spend beneath your finger, then wrap your hand around him, fingertips not even close to meeting, and stroke him slowly.

Your breaths are shallow, rapid, and when you feel your mouth start to water at the sight of his cock sliding through your hand, Jim pulls you back in to kiss you, grunting and groaning while your hand slides rhythmically up and down, making him throb with arousal. He moves his hips, fucking into your grasp with hushed moans that send your head spinning, your cunt pulsing.

Jim begins to peel the dress from your shoulders, slipping the fabric down until your breasts are exposed, the chilly edge of the air hardening your nipple. He pauses, watches the rhythmic movements of your soft, supple tits as your hand pumps up and down, the rise and fall of your chest with each breath. His fingers dig deep beneath the ruffled fabric, tugging it lower and lower until he’s lifting your hips, disturbing the lace of your panties as he discards the dress to the floor.

You pause as he strips the sweater from his shoulders, tossing it to some corner of the room before he’s back on you, the slick tip of his dick leaving sticky trails on your lower stomach.

“You’re so, so good at that,” he murmurs against your lips, sentence broken in two by another hot, wet kiss. Your eyes roll at the taste of him, the strength of his tongue against yours, the hunger with which he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and sucks, letting it go only to fill your mouth with himself again. You push at the edge of his jeans and boxers, bunching them up in your hands and tugging at them until he takes over, bringing you with him while he takes them off, leaving him bare and you in only your little scrap of fabric you call your panties. 

He pulls you in as he sits down on the bed, placing you on his lap, letting you wind your hips, dragging the silky lace of your thong up along his hard length while you lick across his tongue, while you swallow his saliva and feel the ridges of his cock bumping against your clit. At the sound of your whimpers, he picks you up in his arms, lays you down on his bed, and settles between your legs, leaving wet kisses up and down your neck, trailing down to your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth and licking it slowly. Your back arches, the slick of your arousal beginning to seep out into the panties he teases with his fingers, hooking them under the thin straps and slowly pulling at them as his lips trail down between your tits, slowly over your stomach, reaching the very top of your mound before he drags the straps over your thighs to reveal you for him. 

You open your legs and Jim presses into the underside of your thighs, pushing them wider. His eyes focus on the sight of you, spread open in front of him, his tongue lifting to run along his lips. You sit up on your elbows, glossy eyes watching as he leans in, a trail of kisses dotted along the seam of your thigh, until his lips are hovering over your throbbing cunt.

“Jim,” you whisper, sifting your fingers through his hair, moving it from his face.

He looks up and you share a glance, a message sent wordlessly from your eyes to his. A smirk pulls across his lips, reading your mind instantly. He lowers his jaw and his tongue drags a long, soaking stripe up your slit.

Your grip tightens in his hair, head thrown back to the blue sheets. Your throat catches a lewd moan before it has a chance to cut through the air, exposing you both to the guests downstairs. Sorry, you whisper, but he shakes his head. “You don't have to be quiet,” he reassures, leaving his gaze on you as he leans back and gives your clit a few wet licks, kicking up your sensitivity and making you clench. He must be able to tell, because just as you tilt your head back into the pillow while he kisses and licks at the part of you most sensitive and needy for his attention, he pushes two fingers into your pussy, stretching you gently as he curls them. He presses into a spot so tender you can't catch the moans spilling out between your lips, begging for more when you're already so close, having fantasized about this for years – his tongue on your clit and his fingers inside of you, softening you for the inevitable stretch of his cock, so much thicker and longer than you could imagine, big and hard and bound to let you feel him tomorrow.

He begins to suckle, swirling his tongue until you grip his hair and moan that you're close, so close, and he releases you from his mouth, still sliding his fingers slowly in and out, moving to place kisses to the inside of your thigh. You let out a huff, and hear a faint chuckle from between your legs, licking and kissing at your skin, right beside your outer folds, close to where you need him. 

Another wave of arousal crashes through you when he makes contact with your clit again, a wet drag of his tongue making you whimper and pull at his hair harder, trying to keep him right where he is until he lets you come. Jim pulls around your clit, lips sucking and tongue flicking as his fingers pump in and out, winding your orgasm like the tide withdrawing, only to let it crash forward in a flood of pleasure.

Your back arches, breath freezes to nothing in your throat until your climax passes, washing over you in heavy, shuddering ripples. You pant, your chest heaving as you look down at the smile on his face, the evidence of your satisfaction glistening on his lips.

Jim pushes himself up from the mattress, knees planting firm between your open legs, fisting his cock over you. You blink the room back into focus slowly, feeling the bed dip by your ear. He settles on top of you, looking down to guide his cock to your needy and spent sex. His tip presses against your hole, sensitive and soaking, and he glances back up. 

“Jim?”, you whisper, chest heaving when you feel the subtle intrusion at your opening.

“Yeah?”

“I want you inside me, I want you to fuck me.” 

Mhmm, he teases the tip around your entrance, lets the thick head of him slide up to your clit before he glides back down, gently pushing in, a tiny little bit of pressure, not enough to make you wince but groan instead, hating and loving how he teases you. Another push, his tip lodged inside, stretching you open further than you thought possible, while your pussy drools down his shaft, sucking him in and covering him in your wetness. He grunts quietly, not immune to the wet, warm clutch he’s sinking into, inch by inch, while you wrap your hands around his jaw, looking into his bright green eyes, lids hooded, breaking the eye contact to glance down at where he enters you, letting out a breathy moan when you suck him all the way in and he reaches your cervix. He hisses when he retracts, gliding out so slowly, covered in your shiny slick. 

You arch your back when he reaches the end of you again, leaning down onto his elbows so his lips can press into your neck, kissing you like he has all the time in the world, little licks to your skin while he glides out and presses back into you, letting you adjust to his size, making space for himself and soothing you as you’re overwhelmed by him. Your legs come to wrap around his waist, tilting your hips slightly upward to let him reach deeper, moaning his name and incoherent curses, grabbing the back of his neck and his broad shoulders, feeling your clit rub against his pelvis, bringing you closer so slowly you barely notice it happening. 

You lower your arms, slipping your hands under his and lacing your fingers. Your knees bend, resting against his ribcage. With each brush of his hair against your clit, he moves faster, thrusting harder, pushing deeper. Tiny yelps leave your mouth the more he fucks you, the more the bed rocks, the headboard knocking against the wall. Your head turns, moaning delicately into his ear as he sucks on your skin.

“I know,” he whispers against your pulse, “You feel so good, sweetheart. So tight around me.”

“Jim,” you’re whining, gasping for air each time he pushes all the way in. You let go of your grip on him and drape your arms over his shoulders, fingers toying with his hair, slowly dampening with sweat. Each glide of his cock inside you ends with a sweet bite of pain, his tip hammering roughly into the edge of your cunt.

His teeth graze the sensitive skin below your jaw, leaving behind marks you’re silently hoping will still be visible in the morning. His hands travel downward, taking hold of your waist and lifting you up to his body like you weigh nothing at all.

“Here,” he says, slipping out of you, thick white thread dribbling between your pussy and his cock. He motions for you to sit up, beckoning you with a flick of his fingers. “Come here, put your feet on my calves.” You oblige, planting each foot behind his thighs as he kneels. “Now lay down, just relax,” he coos, wrapping both hands around your waist to pull you up into a bridge, letting you dip your shoulder blades onto the sheets. He lifts one hand away from your side and guides his cock back into you, giving a few slow strokes with his palm, pushing gently on your stomach. 

Then his hands grip your hips tightly, he pulls you back onto him and gives you a moment to stabilize before he fucks into you even deeper than before. Your tits slide up and down your chest with every single one of this deep thrusts, and you watch his eyes as they stay glued to your body, his mouth hanging open, panting, grunting, digging his fingers into your flesh, trying to hold back while you squirm and writhe, moaning and whimpering, not giving a fuck who might hear it, trying to keep his name out of your mouth in case someone needs to use the bathroom next door. 

He pounds into you, hitting the softest, most tender spot inside of your body, your head rolls back on his pillow, tiptoeing the line between pain and pleasure, feeling him in your stomach. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, fuck, fuck,” the words are forced out of you just as a warm stream of liquid squirts out of you, drenching his groin and making him groan. Your orgasm is so intense you nearly howl, feeling more and more of your arousal dripping down his shaft and spurting onto his pelvis, soaking the sheets beneath you, getting wet and sticky with your come and his sweat, watching his hair stick to his forehead while he continues to fuck you, needing every last drop of your climax. 

You’re fucking spent, but he won’t relent quite yet, flipping you over and onto all fours, yanking you back by your hips. He enters you from behind and you groan in satisfaction, needing him right there, just like that, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head. His hand twists in your hair, wrapping it around his palm and tugging at it while he grunts, rough and loud in your ear, nearly drowned out by the lewd smacking of your ass against his hips. 

Your hand dips between your legs, fingers rubbing messy circles around your swollen clit, thinking how many times you’ve dreamt of this exact scenario with your fingers buried inside, bringing yourself to the brink of orgasm by the mere thought of Jim. And now, feeling him, the tug on your hair, the ache between your legs, the hoarse cries jumping from your throat.

“Not gonna last much longer,” Jim grunts, wet slaps cutting between his words, “Fuck, sweetheart, that feel good?”

“Yes, Jim,” you whine, your hand jerking with each meeting of his hips on your ass. Come dribbles down the seam of your thigh as you feel your second high begin to wind, white heat flooding downwards. “So – fucking – good. Ah, I want you to come inside me.”

“You sure?”, he pants, holding on by a thread. 

“Yeah, I – I’m on the pill.” 

Jim pulls you upright by the hair, flush against his stomach, and places his hand over yours to rub your clit together. You lean your head back against his shoulder, body freezing as you come for him again. He groans when you pinch around him, movements becoming sloppy.

“Oh – oh, fuck, I’m – I’m coming, I’m coming,” he moans, lips pushing hard into your neck as he twitches and then stills, and you feel the warm spurts of his come deep inside. The two of you groan, strangled and drawn out, collapsing on the bed with his arms around you and his cock softening inside. You listen to the sounds of the party downstairs, the two of you trying to catch your breaths, and he kisses along the back of your shoulder, brushing his thumb back and forth where it rests over your waist. 

“What are we gonna tell Mark?”, he asks.

You pause for a beat, then turn your head to him, “We’re telling Mark?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve wanted it, I’ve wanted it. I don’t want this to be a one time thing, I want it to be more than that, so at some point–”.

“More than what?”, you respond, your heartbeat returning to its heightened state earlier in the night. 

“More than just sex.” 

“Oh.” 

“I’m really into you,” he whispers, “I didn’t know if you felt the same way about me but it seems like you do, so–”. 

You shift around to face him, push his sweat damp locks away from his face and look into his eyes. Shy heat floods your face as you smile at him and nod carefully, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“You wanna go back downstairs?” he asks, fingertips ghosting down your spine before he reaches your thigh and hooks your knee over his leg, “We have Islands in the Stream on the karaoke machine, I know you like that song.” 

“Sure… In a bit.”

#jim halpert x reader #jim halpert imagine #jim halpert fic #jim halpert fanfic #the office fanfiction #jim halpert

[tonkatsubowl]

a little toxic.

satoru gojo x fem!reader

he's all egotistical, cocky and high & mighty... until he experiences jealousy with you.

the man is fully aware of what he is.

attractive, the strongest (obviously), cunning, smart... and the fact he has you as his lover, it boosted his ego tremendously. he flaunts you off, he makes sure that the world knows who you belong to:

the baddest, most beautiful, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the entire universe.

...but why was it that a single man who has no idea what cursed energy is the reason why there's a tug at his heart strings?

it all started when satoru took you out to the café. it was his day off, and he finally had some time to be with you. of course, you were loyal. he trusted you that you wouldn't lay your eyes on any other man. after all, his cockiness and his ego practically told him you were obsessed with him! in truth, you were just loyal and you loved him dearly.

satoru was just a fucking idiot with that brain of his.

as the both of you sat together at this café, satoru notices his precious students—yuuji, nobara and megumi—walking together outside. you wanted to see them too, but you were too comfortable in your seat, but satoru obviously did the greeting as he got up to exit temporarily to talk to his precious students.

you were left alone, and you were enjoying the comfort of your seat and the fact you could see the four of them right outside the glass walls. you smile, admiring the sight of satoru laughing and teasing megumi while the others chimed in.

"excuse me," an unfamiliar voice grabs your attention away from your lover, your gaze fixated to a random stranger who spoke to you, "may i speak with you for a moment?"

you blink, nodding your head slowly before glancing back to satoru again. "what is it?" you ask.

"i just wanted to say i've been admiring your smile and your beautiful appearance since you've gotten here." he said, flashing you a bashful smile. "sorry, i just had to muster up the courage to say something."

that's when your cheeks had dusted itself with a crimson palette, leaving you to clear your throat awkwardly. "a-ah.. well, thank you!" now you weren't sure if you were getting genuinely hit on or complimented. you should bring up satoru.

"i'm here waiting for my boy—"

"sorry i'm late, baby." you hear satoru's voice chirp in the distance as he raise an arm around your shoulder, leaning in to pepper a few kisses on your cranium.

the strongest adjusted his sunglasses, lowering them to gaze upon the male who hit on you with his six eyes.

"ah, s-satoru," you blink, comforted by his appearance.

"who's this?" satoru asked you, resting his chin on top of your head.

the man in question looked at the both of you awkwardly, as he rubbed the back of his head. he did not realize you were dating anyone...

"oh, this is—" you began.

"i'm—" the stranger began.

"i'm gojo satoru," your boyfriend practically interrupted the both of you as he smiled, "i'm y/n's boyfriend. did you need something?"

you blink, staring at the sorcerer next to you with a bit of surprise... was he jealous? he knows you weren't gonna go anywhere but now... why was he so possessive of you at this very moment?

"a-ah, no. not at all. i uh... s-sorry. didn't know she had a boyfriend..." he murmured before walking away.

you look at satoru with a raised brow, "what was that about?" you asked. "don't tell me you're jealous."

"not jealous," he corrected you, obviously lying, "c'mon. let's take you home~."

you blink. "hey—" you feel yourself getting gently pulled away as he took your hand, twirling you close as he whispered something into your ear.

"didn't like how he made you red. so i'll be sure to make you even more red tonight in bed."

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #jjk gojo satoru #jjk satoru gojo #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru gojo #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader

[chrollohearttags]

free smoke • portgas d. ace

content + themes: modern au, black!fem reader (also a firefighter), throat fucking, spit play, hate fucking, breeding, full nelson, spanking, shower sex, backshots, mentions of ovulation and pregnancy, missionary, enemies to lovers-ish, daddy’s used, calls reader a slut, brat taming, squirting

📝: firefighter ace is on my mind so enjoy my depravity until I put a proper fic out. (I���m like a sick dog in heat for this man omg) this is like pure filth, look away if it’s not your thing or if you still have a bedtime. In other words, minors, piss off.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

friends…it’d be the last word you’d ever use to describe the relationship between yourself and Portgas D. Ace. Despite working together day in and day out, fighting side by side to save lives regardless of your own safety and practically living underneath the same roof..you couldn’t stand him! Perhaps, even that was being a bit generous. You hated his guts. Granted, he was the man that you received all of your orders from at Fire Company Eight as he was the Vice Fire Captain and you were merely a rookie firefighter; having only joined the five man crew only a year and a half prior.

“Hey, rookie. Grab those boxes from over there and bring them upstairs.”

oh how you despised the moniker..a reminder of his superiority and ranking over you. Sure, he didn’t purposely wave it over your head like some proverbial flag but he certainly didn’t downplay either. He knew how much it ruffled your feathers so he’d repeat it in hopes of getting you agitated and riled up. Almost like clockwork, it done the trick everytime! “I have a name. Why don’t you try using it, asshole..” Oftentimes scoffing over your shoulder with cut eyes and a nasty glare. Even so, with much vitriol and vengeance in your heart, you’d follow his commands. It was no secret among the entire firehouse that you two were sworn enemies..or rather, he was on the receiving end of a one sided grudge. All beginning when you first started here and he treated you as if you were dumb. And it didn’t help that you were the only woman here. Despite graduating top of your class at fire college. The best scores, highest evaluations…none of it meant a thing to him! Your biggest issue with him was that carefree, lackadaisical attitude. Put simply, he was a jackass! He didn’t care about much including someone’s hurt feelings. Especially when he hadn’t done anything except his job. The way he saw it, until you surpassed him in rank, you could get glad in the same damn drawers you got mad in. “I suggest you watch that fucking mouth if you know what’s good for you..”

a warning you’d certainly heed once the rest of the crew heads out on a grocery run. Knowing that they’d be out for at least two hours, stocking up on food and toiletry items for everyone, that left the vice chief ample time to teach you a lesson. He knew your little charade was nothing more than show for the others because the second they were out that door, leaving you two alone, you were both in the shower..relieving those rising tensions..

“Open…there you go—see, you can follow instructions.”

“Fuck you—“

the words spewing like venom shortly before he gags you get again. The steamy droplets of warm water cascading over your nude bodies as they collide in the stand in bath. Your so called sworn enemy cuffing your wrists with one hand as he slowly thrusts into your mouth. His hard cock sliding between your plump lips and silky jaws, drumming up strings of spit..along with loud gagging sounds. All while his six foot four frame stood above you. Only muted by the downpour from the shower head as you sat fatefully on your knees, being used to his leisure. You may have been pretending to be angry and talking all recklessly but he could tell that you were enjoying this just as much as he was. Ace wasn’t fooled by your tough exterior the way everyone else was. Because he knew the one thing you needed above all else..was a good fuck. To be slutted out beyond comprehension; to have so many orgasms, you won’t even have the energy to be a bitch. And who better than to give you the treatment than your beloved boss? Hell, he had done it before. Many times in fact and although it didn’t shut you up for good, the satisfaction of seeing you sprawled and fucked out with his cum inside of you was enough consolation!

Ooh…fuck. You know something, rookie? I think you should’ve took a career in acting instead. Pretending to hate me in front of everyone else but sucking me off in the shower..you’re a strange girl.”

interrupting his praise to lob more saliva into your mouth in the form of a long string. Only to resume his rapid assault of your throat. Taking it all the way to the base..allowing his balls to slap your chin and his abs to brush your forehead, holding it in place until he saw fit. Taking full advantage of your nonexistent gag reflex. He’d withdraw to be met with your messy face and rewarded you with a kiss amid your heavy gasping. Even after working your mouth over and feeding you a couple faint slaps, you still had plenty to say! “Who said I was pretending? I still can’t stand you.” Which was all fine in theory but again, he wasn’t paying your ass any mind. Rather, he wanted to make use of this free time that you were granted and fuck the shit out of you. Tugging you by your arms, Ace swiftly spun you around so that your thick backside was pressed to his pelvis. He didn’t hesitate to impale you on his cock and begin feeding you deep seeded strokes. Your back bent and frame curved into a S shape as he pulled you back by your wrists..the recoil of your plush flesh bouncing against his own and sounding off. That sopping little cunt seeping with cream and slick each time he pounded into you. Ensuring you couldn’t move unless he granted so.

“You sure about that? Could’ve had me fooled, sweetheart…this pussy’s so wet f’r me, I can barely stay in it..”

drumming up a sheath of sticky membrane and more of your beautiful moans. Even drudging up some of his own. Ace would toss his head back and try not to focus too much on the ripple of your plump ass swallowing him whole. He loved the sound, the contrast..he loved how good you felt for him! “Fuuck! Fuck me…oh my gosh..just keep giving me that dick and shut the hell up.”blurting out and whimpering for him without a single thought. His fingers intertwine and clutch around your throat; bringing you back when you tried to run. Seeing as your hair was covered by the silk bonnet atop to your head. “Shit…ain’t gotta tell me twice….so sexy when you talk to me like that.” Spinning you around to kiss once more. Mirroring that of lovers moreso than a couple of people who were just arguing. The collision of skin and loins making it difficult for either of you to conceal your true feeling. Clawing at the tile walls, (y/n) cried out yet again and begged for him to go deeper. Even holding it open once he freed your hands. “That’s right, spread that ass…let me get in it..” grunting into your shoulder blade before forcing you back down. He wasn’t showing you any mercy. Smacking and spanking your cheeks rigorously..leaving stinging marks. “That feel good? Am I in it?..” “..yes, daddy. In my fucking spot..oh my God!” Bringing forth a hearty laugh and lewd feelings from your vice chief. “Daddy, huh? I was an asshole not too long ago. Wonder what changed.” Either way, he loved hearing it come from your mouth!

“C’mere..grab me.” In a moment of haste, the dark haired, dreamy eyed man would twist the faucet off to cease the shower and instruct you to wrap your limbs around him. Which you did so, seeing as how your legs couldn’t stop trembling. He had already worn a sore spot into the pit of your tummy but he was far from finished. Not when he was still throbbing profusely; leaking from that swollen tip when he pulls out of you. However, that doesn’t last long as he’s got to be one with you yet again. The two of you would shuffle back towards the bunk cabins, where two beds resided on each side; one atop the other. For convenience, he’d take the bottom one but not before pounding you all the way there. Hoisting you up midair and slamming you back down on his cock with sheer strength. Your nails digging ferociously into the giant piece of ink on his back; those clear, manicured nails scraping at his tattoo and he was loving every second. “Right there! Fuck!…gonna come..” whimpering into his ear as your face cradled into the crook of his neck. He knew it was a lot, it always but you took it so well..better than any other girl he’d ever fucked. You wrapped around him as if you never wanted him to let go.

“Damn..you’re close, aren’t you, baby? I can feel it..” whispering into your ear as he placed a kiss to your temple as a means to quell your quivering body. That ecstasy was hitting your body like a freight truck and there was no greater sensation. Bringing you to the mattress, Ace maintained his grip on your legs before standing straight back up and letting another line of spit lubricate your folds already sopping folds. Just to really get you shaking, he’d tap that shaft against them before gliding back in. Something about staring into your eyes whilst deep inside of that heat, was so much more raw and intense. You couldn’t hide or pretend anymore. He saw every emotion all over your face. Especially when those strokes were so rhythmic and beautiful, each one connected to your spot. Stroking that sensitive clit, Ace sucked his teeth and kept pushing forth, prompting you to take over holding your calves so that he could give you the brutal fucking you so desperately craved!

“Yeah..take it. Take this fucking dick..you little slut!” Bearing his entire weight down and through gritted teeth, Ace pounded your pussy until the bed frame underneath you was rocking back and forth. Fucking you with his hands cusping your throat. He knew how much it turned you on; apparent by the rampant twitches against his shaft. You’d claw at his wrists as he kept going…taunting you and talking his shit the entire time. He knew he had you exactly where he wanted and wasn’t going to let up until his abs and the floor was left a soaking mess. That deep voice causing pangs in the bottom of your stomach when he yelled at you. Hastily shoving his tongue back into your mouth, the vice captain kept going..despite running on the last of his energy, he’d find himself balls deep in you; practically hurled into a mating press now. Still, he wasn’t stopping until you emptied that sack for him and took every last bit of his nut. And you weren’t too far behind..delirium and cock drunkenness was setting in pretty heavily and you wanted to come for him so badly. Despite not wanting to cave. Hell, he was ducking you down so good, you were ready live in his skin and cook him breakfast! Repeatedly slamming into that core and making you cream for him immensely. Not to mention how erect your nipples were..you were sensitive and by the tears streaming down your face, that let him know one fact:

“Ooh..somebody must be ovulating. No wonder you’ve been such a mess, rookie. You just needed someone to come take care of you, huh?”

cooing to you in a manner that made it impossible to resist his charm. Sticking a thumb between your lips to pacify you, he’d get inside of your head..playing on your insecurities and talking you through those feelings. He could always tell when you were in that mood and when that time of month was near. Either you’d be in the foulest of moods and no one could bother you or you’d pick a fight with him just so he could give you some dick. It was almost like clockwork but he’d give in every single time. How a man that you despised knew you better than any partner you’d ever had was beyond words. Holding your face close, he’d cradle you in his palms and let your gazes meet one last time. When he saw your eyes, they were welled full of tears and brimming with lust. His theory was absolutely correct!

“I know, I know. Just breathe..” talking you through that inevitable orgasm. He’d calm you with reassuring words, kisses to your forehead and regressed strokes. Slowing down so he could meet you right there and you guys could come together. “Same time, okay? You and me.” He’d bog down and hone in for the last minute or so, knowing his climax was growing near. That tip prodded and swollen beyond relief as it oozed precum. Leaking and begging to burst. His full, heavy balls smacking against your asshole with a layer of sticky liquid between them. Clutching the backs of his thighs, (y/n) held him in place, begging for him to fill you to the brim. “Fuck! Just come in me.” And with that command, for the first time in ever..he’d follow. Releasing his load and lobbing yet another sloppy peck. One that lasted far longer than the rest. That warm seed spilling into you as he attempted to muffle his own cries. This was pure heaven if he’d ever experienced it. Your hands scaling his back and your limbs fully coiled around him as if you never wanted to let go.

“God, I swear you’re nothing but trouble, rookie. What am I gonna do with you?”

heavily huffing whilst examining your face. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Caressing the side of his face with a gentle hand, you’d bat those beautiful eyelashes before bopping his nose with the tip of your finger. “Well you can start by getting me a Plan B, Mr. Weak Ass Pull Out Game.” Immediately sending him into hysterics. “Shut up, like you weren’t begging for it..damn brat.” The two of you would joke around and cackle as if everything was just peachy between the two of you. Knowing you’d go right back to being sworn enemies. Just then, the sound of footsteps and doors unlocking sounded off from downstairs. Maybe one day you’d settle your differences for real. “Our little secret?” “Of course.”

but for now, it was much more fun to pretend!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@hobiesrockstargf

#cherry’s works 🍒🌹 #one piece ace #one piece #one piece fic #portgas d ace #portgas d ace smut #ace x black reader #portgas ace x reader #one piece smut #one piece au #op au #op x reader #op fanfic #modern au #ace op #ace one piece #one piece x black!reader #op x y/n #black fem reader #black reader smut #one piece x reader #ace smut #op smut #op modern au #black reader #cw smut #cw spit #cw choking #cw breeding #doubt anyone is online but posting anyway. bored out of my mf mind tonight

[fanwarriorfictions]

Not Again - Part Eight

Summary: It’s been nearly four days since Y/n had collapsed, and she still hadn’t woken. Azriel won’t leave her side, he can’t, no matter how worried his family is.

Warnings: none really, kind of a shorter chapter

Series Masterlist

Another day had passed, Azriel refused to leave her room, he sat in the chair by her bedside and would not move no matter how much his family pestered him. Rhys had forced him to at least put some clothes on, but other than that, he’d stayed right at her bedside and spoke to her, feeling the pulse in her wrist flutter each time, feeling that evidence that she was still there. He read to her out of one of the books on her night stand, obvious gifts from Nesta. He struggled through some chapters, face warm, others he skipped entirely.

“Dinner is served,” Mor struts into the room, a tray balanced in her hands, “I can watch over her while you eat and take a damned bath.”

He frowns up at her, “I don’t-“

“Yes you do,” she sniffs pointedly, “You’ve been bed ridden for two days and haven’t bathed once since you woke. She won’t go anywhere, I promise.”

Azriel looks at the female in question, her lips were slightly turned down at the edges, like she could hear them and wasn’t happy to have him leave, “Fine.”

As soon as the word is out of him mouth, he hears running water in the attached bathroom, it seems the house was sick of him stinking up the place. He sighs, carefully standing up from the chair, shaking his head when Mor moved into casual reach incase he fell.

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

“I don’t doubt that,” she sighs, rolling her eyes at him, “at least take the time to wash your hair.”

Azriel doesn’t respond as he closes the door behind him, sighing through his nose as he rest against it. There was this strange anxiety in him, even though Y/n was just on the other side of the wall. Watched over by one of his closest friends. The female he’d spent centuries believing he was in love with, and the female he, he didn’t know what it was he felt for. There was this feeling in him, this feeling of desperation when she’d been in danger, before that when she was about to leave him, when he’d seen her cry beneath the stars. Not love, gods he’d known her less than a week, but there was something, something there. A string of shadow connecting them together, one he refused to let go of. Whatever it was, he wonders if the swirling eddies of the cauldron, or the mysterious force of the Wyrd, that brought her here, right to him.

With Quinlann, it had been the blades, Gwydion and Truth Teller, calling to each other from across the stars. When she’d opened the portal between realms, they found each other. But with Y/n, there wasn’t a reason, there was no mysterious object, no intent. Simply a portal that had torn her from her home and thrown her into his path. He’d spent the last day pondering about it, about why exactly she was brought here, brought to him, and he’d come up with nothing but blanks.

Azriel forces himself to focus on the bath before him, to get in and out as quickly as possible so he could get back to her. The water was lukewarm, like the house knew he wasn’t ready to feel the heat. His bandages had been changed early in the day by Madja, the burn on his chest had been the worst of the damage, the imprint of Y/n’s shoulders burned into him from holding her to him. It would heal, there may be the faintest scar, a darker, rougher patch of skin. He found that he didn’t mind it, that he’d be left with that permanent memory of her, even when she finally found her way home.

He scrubs methodically, using the same lavender scented bar of soap on his hair and his body, not bothering with the bottles of soaps lining the edge of the bath. He submerges his entire body, wings included to rinse off, and he’s up and drying off quickly.

The house provides him with a comfortable set of black sleep clothes, loose fitting shirt to not irritate the burns. He dresses without thought, quickly buttoning the shirt around his wings as he moves towards the door.

“Record time,” Mor says as he walks into the room, “I’m surprised you bothered with a towel, instead of shaking out like a dog.”

He rolls his eyes, taking his seat beside Y/n. She hadn’t moved at all, he hadn’t expected her to, her lips would sometimes twitch in her sleep, but that was the only movement he’d seen.

“She’s not going to disappear,” Mor says gently, “You can rest for a while.”

Azriel knew that, knew that if he crossed the hall and collapsed into bed like his body begged him to do, she was would be right here where he left her. But he couldn’t do it, not until she was awake and he could see those eyes, see that insufferable smile, hear her soft accent. He was a desperate fool.

“I’m fine,” he says, “thank you for the food.”

Mor frowns, “I’m worried about you.”

“I know-“

“No I don’t think you do,” she snaps, arms crossed over her chest, “I don’t know what happened between you two, I don’t want to know, but I can’t stand to see you fall apart over a female you hardly even know.”

“Nothing happened between us.” It’s the truth but somehow it feels like a lie on his tongue, “I don’t expect you to understand it, I don’t even understand it.”

“I’ve had lovers in the past, hell I pined after you for centuries.” Azriel doesn’t miss the way she flinches, he’d never actually said the words aloud, “but this is different, she’s just different. She’s not my lover, I don’t love her, I just- I don’t- When I saw her there, trapped in that spell, it felt like someone was carving my heart from my chest with a dull knife, hacking through skin and bones and ripping the thing out.”

He shudders, looking down at Y/n, whatever this was, gods he didn’t know, he didn’t want to know, he just wanted her to wake up.

Azriel feels a slight pressure on his shoulder, Mor’s hand resting there in gentle reassurance, “She’ll wake up.”

“I hope so.”

Azriel wasn’t sure what exactly woke him up, the pain in his back from being slumped over in his chair, his shadows frantically swirling around him, or the hand that gently twines through his hair. His half asleep brain decides the feeling is very very nice and he almost goes right back to sleep.

“Are you alive over there, shadowsinger? It’d be a shame if you weren’t.”

That soft swirling accent washes over him like the warm surf of the summer court. It has him launching up out of his chair, eyes wide and staring at the female who sits up in the spot she’d laid for the past three almost four days. Her face was washed in silvery moonlight from the window, hair a tangled mess on her head, her eyes wide and warm with the fire in her blood, gods she was beautiful.

He’s surging forward before he can even think that it might be a bad idea. Her face is warm, soft between his scarred hands, and her lips feel like heaven as he crashes his mouth to hers.

Her hands grip the front of his shirt, pulling him closer and he could die right then and there. Their lips move in tandem, tongues and teeth clashing in desperation. He can feel her sharp canines, the way they drag on his lower lip, she could tear him to pieces with them and, Mother above, he would let her.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again.” He pulls back just enough to growl against her, “Don’t you dare, princess.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me, shadowsinger,” she grins against his lips, that insufferable little smile, “it’ll ruin your whole dark brooding warrior image.”

“Shut up.”

She barely has the time to laugh before his lips cover hers again. Azriel’s shadows writhe around them, pulling her closer and closer till she’s practically sitting in his lap. His hands grip her waist, so hard that he’s sure she’ll have bruises in the shape of them. Her hands are tangled in his hair, pulling at the strands in a way that has Azriel purring. Everywhere she touched left him burning, burning with desire for more, more, more.

He’s moving, lips trailing across her jaw and down the side of her throat, he can feel her heart racing, maybe that was his own. Her head falls back, giving his better access to her throat. She lets out a breathless sigh when his teeth graze that sensitive spot, and Azriel wants to hear that noise again and again and again.

“Az,” she gasps, fingers digging into his shoulders like she’s trying to ground herself, “I, gods, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but hold on.”

It takes more effort than it should to pull away, to look into her eyes without begging her to let him keep going, “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, this is amazing,” she sighs, “more than that. I just- I need a minute.”

Azriel sees that look in her eyes, that broken heart behind a wall of ice, “Whatever you need, princess.”

Her head falls, hiding, “I failed, Az. I- I did everything the books said, and I fucked it up.”

His heart squeezes in his chest, and he can’t help but to tug her into his arms. She collapses into him, face buried in the silk of his shirt and she cries. Those silent heavy tears, so Azriel holds her tight as she cries and cries and cries.

Y/n feels warm, safe, there’s a comforting weight across her waist, a hard wall behind her.

Her eyes open, blinking at the bright sunlight streaming through her window. It must be late morning, it had been the middle of the night when she’d woke, finding her hand clasped in Azriel’s, the male himself asleep in the most uncomfortable position possible.

When she’d seen him there, moonlight dancing over his features, she thought he was the most beautiful male she’d ever seen. It felt like her hand moved on its own, raking through those black strands of hair, the slight curl to them tickling her palm.

She’d felt him stirr, felt the way he’d pushed into her hand like a cat seeking attention. It was incredibly cute, which is something she was sure had never been used to describe the spy master.

When he’d realized she was awake, when he’d looked into her eyes, she’d seen the utter desperation behind his whiskey eyes. And when his lips had fallen onto hers, she felt it too. He kissed like a man starved, like she was his last meal and he was going to savor every bite of her. He kissed her like she meant something, like she was worth worshipping. Gods she wanted him to do just that, to take her for all she was worth, to ravish her until she was screaming. But then his teeth had caressed the side of her neck, her pulse racing beneath, and she felt herself slipping, felt the memories slam into her, of the matching scars her parents wore proudly on their necks, of the burning words in her throat, of the spell that had taken control of her and had tried to swallow her whole.

She felt everything crashing into her all at once, and when Azriel had looked at her, nothing but understanding in his eyes, she broke. She must have cried herself to sleep, to be waking up near noon.

Y/n froze as the wall behind her shifted, a body, she realized, that weight across her waist, an arm. Azriel.

She glances over her shoulder, finding the sleeping male. He held her close, face tucked into her shoulder. He made no noise, just soft breathing, lips slightly parted. They were laying beneath the knitted blanket that was usually folded by the foot of the bed, like he hadn’t wanted to wake her to get her beneath the covers.

Y/n shifts, gently trying to lift his arm so that she could escape to the bathroom, but the second she tried, his arm tightens and she’s pulled back against his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Gods spare her, his voice was deep and rasping in her ear. Her eyes look back over her shoulder and she’s met by those hazel eyes, still heavy with sleep. His gaze feels like a brand, like he was taking in all of her, like he was planning to claim her in every way possible.

“The bathroom preferably,” she says, throwing in as much snarky energy as possible to hopefully hide the way her face was heating.

He sighs, “I suppose that’s fine.”

“You suppose?” She scoffs, pushing the heavy arm still wrapped around her waist, “Let go of me you overgrown bat.”

He holds tighter for just a second, “You wound me, princess.”

“You’ll get over it.” She slips out from beneath his hold, “Keep your wandering shadows to yourself, I’m going to bathe, I smell like death.”

Azriel looks at her with predatory focus, resting on his elbows so he can look her up and down, “Hm, I hadn’t noticed.”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” she rolls her eyes, “Keep them out, I’ll be back.”

Azriel settles back into the pillows, eyes watching each step she takes into the room beyond. She can still feel his gaze when she shuts the door behind her, heavy and burning.

The bath is already filled with steaming water, clothes and towels laid out for her. She thanks the house quietly, slipping out of her tattered clothes and into that hot water.

Her head tilts back, a quiet moan slipping past her lips at the feeling, her body sore from whatever had taken control during the spell, and then even more from laying in bed for the past several days. She takes her time, washing every spot of herself to rid that scent of smoke. Her hair takes longer, tangled and brittle, she uses half the bottle of the sweet smelling soap.

All of her movements are precise, methodical, to keep her brain and hands busy. Because if she stops for to long, her mind is ripped back to that room, to the yawning portal of darkness, that presence on the other side beckoning, whispering, playing with her. What ever it was, ancient and cold, dark and cruel, she felt it reaching for her. And at the same time she’d felt another pull, one from behind, one begging her to stay, to let go of the gods damned book. A string, a lifeline, a way back. She’d cling to that, and let it pull her out.

But still, on the other side of that portal she heard a whisper, a voice young and old, pay the price, gods killer’s kin, pay the price.

Tag list - If you would like to be added to the list please send me an ask or message me❣︎

@inloveallthetime , @microwaveallthedemons , @nayaniasworld , @thecraziestcrayon , @fightmedraco , @blackgirlmagicforever , @nikt-wazny-y , @fangirlloza010 , @thisiskaylin , @wolfgirl624 , @khaleesihavilliard , @fluffy-bnny , @mariahoedt , @durgenyx , @glitterypirateduck , @byyalady , @amberlynn98 , @ferrarisbitch , @a-cup-of-nightshade , @breella , @hnnybee0 , @superspideyparker , @that-one-little-soybean , @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife , @websterss , @sassybluebird , @fakesocialmediaa

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel x reader #rowaelin daughter #rowaelin #not again #a court of thorns and roses

[vivwritesfics]

Fire Is The Devil's Only Friend

Chapter Four

There was no such thing as making it on your own with a high profile boyfriend. That was why she kept her relationship a secret. But then after a PR fuck up, her boyfriend is forced into PR relationship and she's left on the side lines, missing him

1.3K

Warnings: suggestive, light smut

Series Masterlist

"So, you were with him for an entire year and you didn't tell anybody?" Her mother asked her over a cup of coffee.

She'd been there for a couple of days already, crying in her childhood bedroom. For days, her mother didn't know why, but she didn't push. She'd tell her when she was ready.

That came three days into her stay. She and her mother sat down at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee and a biscuit in front of them as she recounted the last year of her life. She told her mother about every moment she had spent with Carlos. From the first time she met, the first date they went on, when he asked her to move in and...

The proposal. Because he was going to propose, wasn't he? She had found the ring in his bag at the last Grand Prix they had attended together.

"He's an F1 driver," she said. That bit she had failed to mention to her mother until now. "They threatened him with his seat, mum. If he didn't do this, they would have replaced him mid season." She wiped the tears from her cheeks, pulled out her phone and showed her mother the article about Carlos, her Carlos, and Rebecca Donaldson.

How would this change things? Would Rebecca go to Grand Prix, just like she did? Would she kiss Carlos in front of the cameras, just like she wanted to?

Her mother let out a sigh as she placed the phone back on the table. "Do you want my advice?" She asked, hand her daughter nodded her head. "You love him, that's clear. If this is all for show, go back to him. Date him and love him in secret until you're both ready to be together in the spotlight. You'll have to set some boundaries, sure. But it'll be worth it."

"What about this other girl?" She asked.

"If he loves you, he'll end it before showing you off."

It was terrible advice, but it was the push she needed. "Thank you," she said as she stood up to hug her mother. Her mother patted her and she went running off to her childhood bedroom to pack her things.

Her mother had never had much success with love. She'd been in love once but she had let him get away. She wasn't going to let her daughter make the same mistake.

Before she knew it she was on the road, her mothers house getting smaller and smaller in her rear view mirror. She couldn't wait to get back to Carlos. She couldn't wait to run to him, to kiss him and then to screw his brains out.

She tapped her nails against the steering wheel as she drove, making her way home. Home. She hadn't just missed Carlos, but she had missed their home too. She had missed the sounds of Carlos as he watched the football, the angry string of Spanish words leaving his lips. She had missed Piñón and having him jump on their bed as soon as Carlos brought him back from a walk, waking her up.

It was maybe an hour and a half until she got home. She parked her car out the front, grabbed her keys and let herself in. She hadn't been in contact with Carlos for the days she had been at her mothers house.

"Carlos?" She called as she shut the door behind her. As soon as she did, Piñón came running. He barked as he jumped up at her, his paws on her legs as he tried to lick her face. "I missed you too, buddy," she said and pushed him away.

"Carlos," she called again as she walked through the house.

Somewhere in the house, a door shut. There was loud, thundering footsteps as he rushed towards her. "Cariño," he pretty much gasped when he saw her.

She dropped her bags and ran towards him. As soon as he got to her, Carlos wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up. His hand was on the back of her head as he held her close. His eyes were squeezed shut as he took a minute to just breathe.

She was back and she was in his arms. Piñón barked until Carlos released her. "I missed you so much," he said as he held her waist. "I spoke to Ferrari and I told them all about you. I'm going to do whatever I can to put a stop to this."

She grabbed his face and kissed him slowly. Carlos melted into it, squeezing her waist. She pulled away from him, keeping her arms around him as she played with the hair on the back of his neck. "Are they threatening your seat still?"

Carlos nodded his head. "But I don't care. I can find another seat."

She shook her head and stepped closer to him, until they were chest to chest. "I don't want you to give up your seat for me," she said. "If Ferrari are gonna take away your seat, then play the part they want you to play," she said and kissed him again.

Carlos couldn't help but think of the ring he still had. "But I want to be with you," He said somewhat quietly.

She kissed him once again. "We can set boundaries," she said. "She knows its not real, right?" Carlos nodded his head. "Well, we can have things in place. Like, i know she'll be at Grand Prix, but I don't want her to kiss you."

"Of course, cariño," he said, squeezing his arms around her.

Suddenly, she was no longer playing with the hair at the back of his neck. She moved her hand up and tugged slightly.

Carlos got the idea. His hands moved from her waist to her ass. "How much did you miss me, cariño?"

"So fucking much," she said as she leaned closer to kiss down his neck.

"Show me."

She pulled away and gave him an incredulous look. "Carlos, my love, you're going to show me how much you missed me."

Carlos couldn't argue with that. Gripping her ass he lifted her up, and carried her to their bedroom. She grinned, her forehead against his as Carlos laid her down on the covers.

He kissed her. It was soft and slow and so full of love. As he pulled away she whined, trying to keeping him as close as possible. But Carlos stood tall, looking down at her. "Eres preciosa," he whispered.

As Carlos looked down at her, she pulled off her shirt and tossed it to one side. His breath hitched in his throat as she threw off her bra and leaned back on her hands, her lip pulled between her teeth. 

Every time with Carlos was simply amazing. He knew all of her buttons, knew what he had to do to get her screaming.

Getting to his knees, Carlos popped the button on her jeans. He kissed the inside of her thigh as he shuffled them down her legs and dropped them to the floor.

A pornographic moan left her lips when he kissed over her clothed mound. She bucked her hips towards him and Carlos couldn't hide his grin. He did it again to evoke a similar reaction before pulling her underwear away from her legs, dropping them onto the pile of her discarded clothes.

He kissed the inside of her thigh once more and looked up at her. But she wasn't looking at him. Her head was thrown back, chest heaving in anticipation.

Permanent Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @minkyungseokie @formulaal @darleneslane @hiireadstuff @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris @evlkking @lilymurphy03 @hollie911 @customsbyjcg-blog @honethatty12 @nikfigueiredo @avg-golden-retriever

“I'm going to ravage you.”

A/N: READER IS SO DUMB IN THIS ONE TRUST IM MAD TOO AND IM THE BITCH THAT WROTE IT

Series Taglist (OPEN):@juleswrites223 @ellessssssxzxz @itsjustkhaos @booksandflowrs @landossainz @laneyspaulding19 @sleepybrokenmelle @92spcy @khaylin27 @princessria127 @aexitizen-ln4 @russellette @cmleitora @shobaes @val-writes @rehenys @sam-is-lost @sp1rl @seasonswinter

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader smut #carlos sainz x you #cs55 #cs55 imagine #cs55 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

[superhoeva]

oh now i wanna know how they started dating on carmys bday 😭😭😭

carmen did not expect to ask bunny when he did.

it happened after she’d treated him to an evening of whatever he wanted. they stopped at a hole in the wall syrian place owned by one of carmen’s friends, sat in the very back, and just talked. about everything—even the shit that happened to them in new york—over shawarma, tabbouleh, and a shit ton of kebabs.

carmen’s never talked to anyone this much for this long in his entire life. if feels odd and terrifying, but the way bunny seems to hang on every word kept him from shrinking back inside himself.

they continue talking after dinner, carmen taking more time to listen at this point in the night. especially when bunny gets to some heavy shit and carmen can tell she needs this. she needs to tell someone this and something inside him flutters at the fact that he’s the one she feels like she can do that with.

it’s almost ten. they’re still walking, carmen closest to the street, when an idea pops into his head. that’s how they end up at the store, looking for ingredients for homemade gelato.

“you wanna make gelato? right now? at nine fifty-eight on your birthday?”

carmen shrugs, eyes searching for his usual brand of whole milk. “you said you wanted gelato, so i’m makin’ gelato.”

“carmen, i said i wanted to try it. one day, not now. don’t want you to waste the rest of your birthday making this.”

“not a waste’a time. what flavors you thinkin’?”

around an hour later bunny is in carmen’s apartment. watching him glide around his kitchen from the small table she sits at. she’s asked if she can help at least three times, but the most carmen lets her do is taste test a few things.

it isn’t until he pours the last of the liquid into the container that his senses come back to him. shit. he whispers it to himself, nearly dropping the bowl in his hands onto the counter in embarrassment.

his machine is broken. stopped working a few months ago when he was trying some shit out with syd for marcus, and he hasn’t thought about it since then.

carmen sputters through a string of apologies when bunny asks him what’s wrong. she lets him get it out for a few seconds until he starts to blame him self.

“sorry. shit, i-i’m really sorry. i don’t know why i didn’t think about it be-before. fuckin’ stupid. i-i-i should’ve remembered that the thing to make this shit is broken if-if i’m makin’ the shit? right? now… now you don’t get any gelato because-cause i’m a fuckin’ dumb ass—”

“carmen?”

he stops at the feeling of her hand on his arm. she’s standing in front of him now, but carmen can’t look at her. he settles for a glare at the floor, mouth pinched as he bites the inside of his mouth.

“how ‘bout… we just put it in the freezer. save it for tomorrow—”

“but you wanted it tonight—”

“i can wait. i promise, i can wait ‘til morning to try it. we can even eat it together. i’ll come back over and we can have belated birthday bowls of gelato.”

it sounds nice. it sounds incredible, but he’s not over it yet.

“but you wanted it—”

bunny grabs carmen’s face, and looking straight into his eyes.

“all i want is for you to have a good birthday. that’s all i care about right now, carm, okay?”

carmen blinks, thinking.

“okay?”

he blinks one more time. “…okay. okay.”

“okay,” bunny nods one last time, thumbs rubbing across his cheeks as she continues. “good. now, why don’t you stick that in the freezer while i run over to my place and get your present.”

what?

“present? what present?”

bunny shrugs, dropping her hands. shy smile growing in her face.

“got you something… but now that i’m thinking about it, it might be kinda lame.”

carmen immediately shakes his head no.

“no it’s not. whatever it is, it’s not lame.”

“let’s wait until i give it to you to decide that.”

carmen cleans his leftover mess in silence while bunny is a few doors down, nervously eyeing the small gift bag in her hands. she stares and stares at it before gently setting it back down on her bed.

maybe another day. for now, she’ll give him the back-up. it’s easier. and safer.

“close your eyes.”

carmen huffs, but follows her instructions. he hears a shuffling and a light touch on his thigh.

“okay. open.”

he bites his lip at the sight of a cd case. it’s clear and decorated with bread stickers. popping it open, carmen reads the writing on the disc.

for cb :)

he huffs, glancing up at bunny whose on the edge of her seat on his couch.

“it’s uh… it’s a mixtape. all the songs on it are ones that remind me of you. or when we hang out.”

it’s quiet for a long moment after that. bunny’s stomach sinks.

“…you made me this?”

it hurts for bunny to nod, shame creeping up over her shoulder and forming her face into a frown.

“i’m sorry. i told you it was lame…”

carmen looks back down at the cd. “smiths?”

bunny sniffs. “yeah.”

“mac?”

“mmhm.”

“radiohead?”

bunny accidentally snickers.

“well it wouldn’t be a cb mix without the bends.”

carmen grins a wide smile. laughs at her words.

“wouldn’t be a cb mix without the bends,” he repeats, face heating. “definitely not lame.”

bunny’s eyes widen, the tons of weight sitting on her chest lifting a little.

“seriously?”

“no. not lame at all. not even close.”

blowing out a breath, bunny relaxes.

“i just… i went to so many places looking for something that i thought you would like, but all that shit didn’t really… it didn’t really have any value. like it had monetary value, yeah, but it just—it didn’t… mean enough.”

carmen keeps his gaze glued to bunny as she talks, watching the way her eyes flicks around while she tries to make her point. he hopes he hides the way his hands start shaking.

“well, i love it very much.”

carmen almost faints when bunny gives him a wide smile. the biggest he’s ever seen and he can’t help but grin along.

“yeah?”

“yeah. listen to it with me?”

the thought crosses his mind on song 8. high and dry by radiohead. it takes two more songs for him to finally say something. hope sandoval’s voice plays through the cd player he dug out of his closet.

i look to you to see the truth.

bunny’s head has found a place on carmen’s lap. his finger trails up and down her jaw, gaze placed on her way her lashes curl. bunny, on the other hand, can’t look his way. although she’s dying to know what he thinks of the songs, it’s too much for her to bear.

she’s compacted it all into a little disc. her entire heart pouring out her deepest thoughts and feelings through the words and melodies of others. ones which she can’t seem to convey out loud, too afraid of what could come after that.

i think it’s strange you never knew.

“sleep over?” carmen rumbles lowly, almost whispering. bunny nods silently, picking at the cloth of his shirt. his finger’s freeze, stopping on the side of her chin. “be my girlfriend?”

for a second, bunny stops breathing.

fade into you.

sitting up, bunny looks at carmen with big, watery eyes. he doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he sucks in a long one when she starts a nod.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“really?”

“yes, really carmen.”

“swear?”

bunny cackles. carmen belly laughs along with her.

“on my life, bear.”

the bunny and the bear au || bunny!reader and bear thoughts? <3

#anon #brb crying #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #au: the bunny and the bear

[percyluvr]

hi!

could you write a fic with clarisse and a nonbinary child of thanatos reader, where they absolutely DOMINATE in capture the flag?

clarisse la rue x gn child of thanatos!reader summary: clarisse and her s/o are undefeated in capture the flag wc: 1127

It was widely known at Camp Half-Blood that if you weren't on Clarisse and her significant other's capture that flag team, you were on the losing team. Even before the two of you began dating, you were a force that no one wanted to mess with.

Your friendship had been very interesting for the other campers to witness, mainly for the reason that Clarisse seemed to warm up to you so quickly, almost as if there was an invisible string of fate tying her to you. The first time the two of you met, Clarisse was almost awkward when she spoke to you, and from then on, the two of you had been an extremely powerful force.

The two of you fit together like a puzzle, your minds always being on the same wavelength. If one of you strayed from the battle strategy you had come up with, the other could immediately tell why and what to do from that point on, which made capture the flag a breeze for your team.

You were sat in the Ares cabin with Clarisse, going over the strategy for the capture the flag, though it wasn't really necessary since the two of you were always in sync, but you thought it never hurt to be extra thorough. Even though the Athena cabin was on the opposing team, when they were usually on your team, the two of you were completely confident that you wouldn't have a problem winning.

"We'll charge together, but once we get through their second line of defense, you'll sneak past and grab the flag. Then, you'll go through the route we marked back to our base, and that'll conclude the game. Easy win for us, again," Clarisse states, making you grin.

The plan may seem simple, especially when it was the Athena cabin you were going against, but you had the entire Ares cabin on yours, and you had more faith in them for these types of things, but that's not to say the Athena kids are not master strategists, because they definitely are.

The next few days came and went, and it was finally time for your and Clarisse's favorite day of the month, capture the flag. The two of you shared a large breakfast, making sure to eat nutritious things to give you extra energy.

After breakfast, everyone headed to the forest and put on their armor and helmets.

"Thirty minutes until the game begins, get set up now. The games begin when you hear the horn, as per usual," Chiron says.

"Alright, does everyone remember the plan?" You ask, making sure that no one would mess up your victory, if that was even possible.

You heard many variations of confirmation, and so you and Clarisse sent everyone off to get into positions.

"You ready to absolutely dominate today?" Clarisse asks, as if she didn't already know the answer.

"Obviously, when am I not ready to hand someone's ass to them?" You joke.

Clarisse gives you a grin, and the two of you head off into the forest.

You two quietly talk for the remaining minutes, immediately focusing in when you hear the horn blast. You and Clarisse sprint off, slowly relaxing into a slightly slower pace to maintain your energy.

When you finally reach the other team's first line of defense, it was just as the two of you expected.

Clarisse knew that you were absolutely insane when it came to fighting, but you'd reached a new level in the past month of training. It was like the world had gone still except for you fighting. She was in the middle of a fight, and all she could look at was you. You fought like an absolute demon, your sword slashing so fast that she it seemed like you hadn't moved it at all. She could tell that you were still holding back, on account of it being a camp game and all, but she would've loved to see you with no restrictions.

It seemed like the fight lasted mere seconds, and all of the other campers lay on the ground. She stared at you in awe before coming back to her senses.

"Come on, we still have a game to win," she says to you, as if she wasn't just staring at you like you were a god.

When the two of you reached the second line of defense, you snuck off without a trace, something that you'd inherited from your dad. If Clarisse hadn't seen you fighting before, she would've wondered if you had ever been by her side in the first place.

You had no concerns about Clarisse fighting off the other team, so you quickly ran through the woods, fighting off stray campers that you came across.

When you reached the flag, you were astonished to find it completely unguarded. You wasted no time in sprinting over to the flag, grasping it in your hands and making a mad dash back through the forest.

You were careful not to step in any of the traps that the Hephaestus cabin must've made and placed strategically throughout the forest. You would've taken time to be impressed by how thorough they were with it, but you had a game to win.

In no time, you found Clarisse, signaling from the sides of the forest that you had gotten the flag. She grinned at you and finished off the fight she was in with some random camper, quickly catching up to you.

You made it back to your side in record time, hearing Chiron make a surprised noise and blow the horn, signaling the end of the game.

You jumped into Clarisse's awaiting arms. No matter how many times you felt her strong arms hold you, you would always be affected by it. There was something about feeling her hold you, knowing she would always protect you that made you feel all warm inside. She kissed you liked she'd been waiting her whole life to feel your lips pressed up against hers, and if you count about 2 hours as her whole life, then yes, she had been waiting her whole life.

When both teams had made it back to the river, Chiron announced that your team had won in a record-breaking 45 minutes, and you team shouted in celebration. You and Clarisse, however, celebrated by her taking off both of your helmets, picking you up into her beefy arms and kissing you with a passion that you'd never felt from her. She was just so enamored by you and how powerful you were that she never wanted to let go, but unfortunately had to so the two of you could celebrate, though she still didn't release her tight grip on your hand.

#clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #clarisse x you #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo #pjo series #clarisse my beloved #i LOVE HER!!!

[harlowcomehome]

Vintage Celine and birthday showers:

⚠️: Slightly suggestive.

Your birthday was always just another day to you, you didn’t see it as special. You usually didn’t like to make a big deal a bit, but your husband was completely the opposite.

Jack had it ingrained in him that birthdays were special and should always be celebrated. So when you woke up on your birthday, you already knew to be mentally prepared for the busy day ahead.

The two of you had a conversation about being subtle this year, but you knew that it went in one ear and out the other.

You sat up in bed, the smell of French toast filled your nostrils. A small smile emerged on your face, he knew french toast was your favorite and had no doubt been panicking all morning about it coming out right.

You went to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth before doing anything else. It wasn’t until you were halfway through your routine that you noticed your birthday card taped to the mirror. He knew the mirror would see you before he did, proving once again how well he knew you.

You opened the card, surprised at the long paragraph he had written to you. His words making your heart skip a beat and your eyes stung a little. You placed the card on your dresser and headed to the kitchen, noticing he had covered the entire living room ceiling in balloons.

You hadn’t said a word but he spotted you as you emerged from the bedroom. “Happy birthday beautiful!” He placed the spatula down and ran over to you. His warm embrace, making you smile into his chest.

“Good morning handsome” you hummed, as he bent down to kiss your lips.

“Did you see the balloons?” He proudly puffed out his chest feeling accomplished at his idea.

“How could I miss them?” You giggled at the high ceiling wondering how in the hell he was ever going to get them down. “I love it, so much.”

“Have a seat birthday girl. I’ll serve you breakfast” he smiled, putting two slices of fruity pebble french toast and a sausage patty on a plate, before walking it over to you.

“Do you want coffee or tea?”

“Chocolate milk” your answer surprised him, but he nodded getting out the milk and chocolate syrup.

“I appreciate you doing this” you hummed as you bit into your food, the flavors dancing on your tongue.

He sat beside you, handing you your drink as he sipped on his lukewarm earl grey tea. “After breakfast, I have some other plans in mind” A sneaky smirk spread across his face.

“I figured you did” You smiled, knowing he wouldn’t dare give you a hint but you poked at it anyway. “What’s the plan?”

“Nope, it’s a secret” he chuckled, sneaking a bite of your french toast off your plate with his fingers.

“Why aren’t you eating?” You narrowed your eyes at him as a string of syrup hung from his bottom lip. You reached toward him gently brushing it off before he could answer.

“I had to taste test before you woke up to make sure it was good” his laugh making you immediately laugh too.

“Thank you for doing this” You held his hand with one hand as you ate with the other.

“It’s nothing compared to everything you do for me.” He meant that, knowing all you had sacrificed to be with him was something he thought about often.

When you were done eating, Jack followed you to the bedroom, hot on your heels. “I was thinking we could save water and shower together this morning.”

“But of course- it’s all I asked for, for my birthday” you winked as you started to take your pajama pants off.

“Guess I can return your other gift then?” He teased as he picked up a giant gift bag he was hiding on the side of the bed.

“Now, I never said that” You held your hands out for your gift, making him laugh as he handed you the bag.

You started to take the gift tissue out one by one until you saw it, throwing the rest of the gift tissue to the side.

You gasped, “Is this…?”

“The vintage Celine purse you’ve been searching everywhere for, for the last year? Yeah!” he was proud of his purchase, knowing that to you it was more than a materialistic item but proof that he listened when you rambled on and on about things.

“How did you get this?” You pulled out the bag, ran to your full-length mirror, and modeled it, against your pajama shirt and bare legs.

Jack walked over to you, brushing your hair out of your face with his hands, “Your husband is very persuasive.”

You leaned in to kiss him, holding the bag in your arms still.

“Oh yeah?” You played in his curls, something that always relaxed him.

“Mhmm” he moaned against your lips, distracted by the way you were touching him.

You hummed at his touch, his hands beginning to explore your body, as he left a trail of wet kisses along your neck. He sent shivers down your spine, as you carefully set the bag down.

“Now about my other gift?” You winked pulling at his boxers as Jack hastily ripped his clothes off, throwing them chaotically around the room.

“I think I might just like this gift more than the purse” you giggled, your eyes on his naked body.

“I’ll make sure you are confident in saying you like this more than the purse” he rasped as he gestured to his groin, making your stomach warm as you led him to the shower.

#Jack Harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow blurb #Jack Harlow fluff #Happy birthday Vanessa!

[hellisharchive]

・﹒・ comatose dreams [1]

Summary: After suffering from a fatal car crash, you had become comatose and had no hope of waking up anytime soon. You didn't know that, however, you thought you had died. After finding yourself in Hell, you wind up landing a job with Vox as your boss. You both fall quickly and deeply, but true love doesn't always work out.

Warnings: 18+, mentions of sex, masturbation, slight StaticMoth,

Notes: This fanfic is inspired by this lovely post by @timeslugarts! I would suggest reading it for a full summary, however if you want to go in blind, then don't!

﹒Stepping Stones﹒

An entire year working for VoxTech, what was your job, you ask? Well, you started out as a simple camera operator, then worked your way up to personal assistant, and you've had a crush on the television man for a good year now. Unfortunately, Vox always seemed so out of reach, so out of your league, you never even tried to even flirt with him and hoping he'd notice. He was an Overlord, one of the Vees, you were probably seen as nothing to him. Which hurt to think about, but was true nonetheless. So, you worked and went through your days with all your feelings festering inside you, ready to burst.

"Vox, you have a meeting with Vel and Val at three pm today to discuss potential strategies with Alastor returning, would you like to cancel?" You watched him as he adjusted his bowtie, ensuring that his outfit was perfect as always. He also had a tendency to cancel his meetings, but to the chagrin of his partners since he arrengaed them in the first place, but you still forced him to attend at least some.

"No, I know if I don't they'll be on my ass about it later" Turning from the mirror, he looked at you with a bored expression before putting on one of his smiles that you thought would be fake, but it was genuine. From working with him, you've learned to identify what smiles are real and ones that aren't.

"What? Do you really want to be alone with me THAT badly?" His smile then moved to a smirk, causing you get flustered and fumble with the tablet you were holding. Shit. Was that the first time he flirted with you? Vox chuckled as you regained your bearings, clearing your throat, you tried to remain professional.

"Well no sir, I was just uh, caught off guard by your uh...assumption" You coughed as he started to walk out of the room, knowing you'll diligently follow, and you did. You shut the door behind you and followed him as he made his way to his head of operations. He didn't tell you where he was going, but you knew his route every single day, that is- if he does, you'll still follow him wherever he went. You'll always be loyal to him and him only.

"Well, let's hope I don't have to calm Valentino down again today after yesterday..." He scowled just thinking about it. Yesterday, Val had yet again another temper tantrum and you watched as your boss did his thing. It was something you've grown accustomed to with your time as the tv man's personal assistant, they both fucked with no strings attached. Sure, they weren't together, but it still squandered you telling the truth about your feelings even further.

"Hopefully not, sir" You spoke as he entered his main control room, where he could spy on everyone and everything. He mainly has been monitoring the hotel and Alastor, even when the Radio Demon was gone for seven years, he never stopped bringing him up. The deer Overlord has only been back for a few months and he was the only thing Vox brought up for entire days sometimes. You didn't mind it though, it was pretty entertaining to witness. Sitting down in his chair, you grabbed yours and sat next to him as he observed everyone, trying to find Alastor roaming around. He checked the hotel first but couldn't find him with his scope of range. Time passes as he does his daily checking and observing, replying to emails, and the like. You busy yourself with checking his schedules and any business opportunities. You didn't realize that he stopped speaking until his sudden voice breaking the silence startled you.

"Do you think he'll ever take me seriously?" He spoke oddly quiet, his usual self gone as you swore you heard the faintest crackle in his voice. Looking up from your tablet, you saw that his head was down, looking at his lap with his hands fiddling each other as a sign of nerves. Sighing, you stood up and walked in front of him. Gently setting your hand on his shoulder, it caused him to look up with a face similar to a sad puppy. Smiling softly, with your other free hand, you placed it on his other shoulder.

"I know one day he will, sir. Trust me, you'll beat him and be the strongest overlord in Hell" You almost said "with me by your side" but refrained, knowing it was best not to mention that at all to him. This was about cheering him up, not entertaining your stupid fantasies. But, you saw as a digital blush faintly appear on his screen made your heart leap. You? A measly assistant managed to make THE Vox blush? You two were entranced, the feeling of leaning closer overwhelmed you as you both slowly inched closer and closer. What were you doing? You both were about six inches apart as he placed a hand over yours, now smiling devilishly as he chuckled.

"Of course I will, I just need someone by my side to do it" Did he...? You didn't have to fully process what he meant by that as you saw Vox's screen change to an incoming call with a ring. The moment ended as you cleared your throat and pulled away, taking your hands off his shoulders like they became fire. Of course- Valentino.

"Are you fucking-" He scowled as he transmitted the video call to one of his many screens, showing a very scandalously clad moth lounging on his bed, smoking and turning the screen into red before dissipating.

"Hey Voxy~ I need a fuck and I need it now. Angel Dust won't return my calls" Now, you weren't the biggest fan of Valentino, despite Vox also not being the best. But even as a sinner, you still did not agree with how that man treated others, especially his main star. Hearing the fact that he was demanding sex from your boss made your blood boil, yet you remained calm and neutral.

"Not now Val, find one of your other whores to fuck, I'm not in the mood" He didn't try to hide is displeasure as he held a very pissed off face staring at the pimp. Usually Vox never denied having sex with Valentino, so the sudden anger surpised you. Valentino just sighed, leaning closer to the camera. You weren't sure if he could see you, you hoped he didn't.

"You aren't fucking anyone else, right baby?" The question gave you whiplash despite not being the receiver. The moth sounded innocuous when you knew very well he manipulated Vox along with others. You knew his game.

"Fuck off Val" The tv Overlord than hung up, growling as he pushed out of his chair and started to walk towards the middle of the room. Following him, he headed back into the rest of the tower and back to his room. Before you could step in, he stood in the doorway, preventing your access.

"Don't bother me, do whatever the fuck you want for the next few hours, I don't care" and just like that, he slammed the door in your face. What the hell just happened? Taking a deep breath in, you mull over what you could possibly do when you decide to just take a walk. You needed some time outside the tower every once a while, so a walk would be perfect. Not wanting to head out in your work attire, you head to your room which was right next to Vox's (easier to be his assistant with you so close) and change. As you walked by your boss' door, you heard him panting and immediately flushed, walking away quickly as it felt wrong to hear him masturbate. You did walk in on him one time by pure accident and even to to this day he still teases you over it and makes fun of you. As you passed by, you could have sworn you heard him moan out your name, but he couldn't have. Right? Your ears were just playing tricks on you. Rushing past, opting to ignore it entirely, you went on your walk.

#vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel x reader #staticmoth #voxval

[unformula1]

“it’s going to go perfect.” (OP81)

“it’s going to go perfect.” (OP81 x reader)

read part 1 here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Synopsis: “I’m sorry, okay!” He shrugs and playfully punches your shoulder, “The last time I did this, it didn’t exactly go well…”

“Well this time it’s going to go perfect.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Boy, you got me hooked onto something

Who could say that they saw us coming?

-double take (dhruv)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

masterlist

word count: 657 words

pairing: oscar pisastri x reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oscar Piastri was a pretty reserved driver, wouldn't say anything if he didn’t need to. He just sat in the corner of the room and kept quiet. He isn’t exactly the type to start conversations or the kind to continue them. Truth be told, conversing was one of his biggest weaknesses, he never knew if he was going to accidentally insult someone or say something stupid and ruin their friendship.

***

“Do you-” He stumbles on some of his words, “like…you know, like me back?” 

You think for a bit. 

Do you?

Do you love Oscar Piastri?

“I-” You hesitate, who were you kidding?

His head bows lower, his feet shuffling a little. 

“Yes.”

His head lifts and his eyes light up, “Really?”

You don’t reply to him but instead shift yourself closer to him, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in for a hug. Oscar gets taken aback by your sudden motion, his body tensing up. 

It takes him a few seconds to realise you’re hugging him and just like that, his body relaxes, his arms slowly moving around you, hugging you tightly back. 

“I love you.” 

His eyes water up, and you hear quiet sobs.

“Are you crying?” You ask, chuckling a little as you release the hug

Oscar rubs the tears that rolled down his cheeks, “No. I’m not.”

“I thought you were supposed to be cold and insensitive-” You tease him, gently poking the sides of his stomach.

“I’m sorry, okay!” He shrugs and playfully punches your shoulder, “The last time I did this, it didn’t exactly go well…”

“Well this time it’s going to go perfect.”

He looks at you, with a spark in his eyes you never knew he had. They water up again and tears brim in his eyes. You don’t mind, you look back at him with a wide smile. He looks beautiful, he looks perfect. 

It takes him a few moments more of walking and ice cream licking for him to finally gather his emotions and string together a proper sentence. 

“Do you want to…” He eats the rest of the ice cream cone, “go out for dinner… sometime soon?”

The rest of the conversation went exactly how you would want it to. A date, a day, a place, a time and just for the both of you.

***

You walk along the pavement, finding your way to the address Oscar sent you. 

Oscar: Im here You: im getting there if i dont get lost

You turn a corner and see a familiar figure – tall, blonde hair, perfect eyes and perfect ass. You keep your phone in your pocket and take a slow jog over to Oscar, who’s leaning against the window of the restaurant, looking at his phone.

“Good looking.” You startle Oscar, who jumps at your voice.

“Hi-” He says, slightly nervous, he keeps his phone in his pocket and presents to you a bouquet of flowers.

You feel blood rush to your cheeks as it turns red. You’re shocked, in a good way, and you gasp. You smile and take the flowers from him.

“Well, aren't you a charmer?” You comment, smiling widely at him while taking the flowers.

“I- I thought it would be nice.” He says, his hands still visibly shaking, “Do you like them?”

“Of course I do!” You say, smelling the flowers.

He outstretches his hand for you to hold, which you do. His firm is grasp, shaky but firm. He’s gotten slightly more confident over the last few minutes. He holds your hand and leads you to one of the tables, which has a vase of roses in the middle. It’s romantic, really.

The both of you sit down and for a moment, the entire world slows down and you glance into his eyes. His perfect, glowing eyes. He looks back, looking lost in yours. 

He looks beautiful.

He looks perfect.

He is Oscar Piastri.

And he is your boyfriend.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #oscar piastri #op81 #confession #f1 imagine #f1 x male reader #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #y/n #f1 x gn reader #confession of love #romance #f1 fluff #mclaren #not beta read #not proofread #roses #date night

[daisyblog]

Adore You

Our Story Masterlist Summary: How Adore You was made.

Based on this request.

It was another day in the studio for Harry. Mitch, Kid, Tyler and Jeff joining him. Harry and YN were in a strange place since they had bumped into each other in a club in LA, they were texting, calling and FaceTime at any opportunity they could but neither of them had brought up the conversation of what they were. 

“So how’s things with you and YN, man?” Kid asked Harry, as the group were scattered around the studio in his house in LA. The question usually made Harry nervous, his stomach turning at the words. But this time, he felt giddy and his lips threatening to smile. 

With all eyes on him, Harry shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t entirely sure himself but it was looking good for them. They spoke every day, they weren’t putting pressure on themselves but just enjoying the simplicity of whatever was happening between them. 

“Ooo look at that smile….is that a blush?” Mitch began to tease, as he held his guitar in his hand, fingers playing with the strings. 

“Fuck off Mitch!” Harry laughed, still trying not to hide his coy smile. “It’s going good Kid.”.

“Should have seen them the other week in the club…whispering in the corner like a pair of teenagers!” Jeff continued to embarrass Harry, earning a playful eye roll. “I was just surprised they didn’t leave together!”. 

“I’m a respectful man Jeffrey”. Harry bit back, as he grabbed his leather notebook and pen from the black wooden table to the side of him. “Enough about my love life…we have an album to make!”. 

“The album so far is about YN!” Mitch called Harry out, beginning to fiddle with the strings on the instrument he held on his lap. “I bet you have another love song written in there.”.

“Mitch…kindly fuck off!” Harry laughed, the other men joining in, enjoying the banter they all shared. “But have you been snooping through my book?”.

“I just know you too well man!”. Mitch held his hands up in defence, a smug grin on his face. “What this one called? Take me back?”.

Harry’s face held a big grin. “Not quite…it’s called Adore You!”. He announced the new song he had been writing. 

The four men were intrigued to see what Harry had come up with, so far the songs written were hit and they knew this one would be too. “Adore You?”. Tyler questioned, wanting to know more. 

“Yeh…it’s like saying I love you but you’re not at that stage yet.”. Harry tried to explain the meaning behind the song. 

“Let’s hear it man!” Kid instructed, as he fiddled with a few buttons in front of him. 

You don't have to say you love me

I just wanna tell you somethin'

Lately you've been on my mind

Every time Harry spoke to YN the words ‘I love you’ almost slipped out. He didn’t want to say them and YN feel she had to say them back, it’s not what he wanted. YN was always on Harry’s mind. Whatever he was doing or wherever he was, something always reminded him of her. 

Honey 

I'd walk through fire for you

Just let me adore you

Oh, honey 

I'd walk through fire for you

Just let me adore you

Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

He meant the words he sang. He would do absolutely anything for YN, anything! At the time he had written the lyrics, he didn’t consider how it sounded, but hearing himself sing the words he could hear how it was his way of asking YN to take him back. Let him adore her. Let him love her. 

---

“Did ya have a good time in LA?” Niall asked YN as they sat in his living room, both huddled on his large grey sofa. 

YN smiled as she thought back to her little trip to LA, initially to see Louis and Freddie but still managed to bump into her favourite green eyed person. “I did…it was nice to see Lou and Freddie!”. 

Niall eyed her suspiciously. He’d seen that smile before and it was usually when she wasn’t telling the whole story. “You saw Harry didn’t you?”. 

“Of course I fookin’ did Ni…he’s everywhere I fookin’ go!”. YN answered honestly, crossing her leg over the other. “It’s like how can I forget about him when he’s there and looking so good”. 

“So are you back together? At least tell me you kissed?”. Niall begged. He was one of many that was rooting for them to get back together. 

“No but one more glass of wine and I think I would have.”. Niall’s loud laugh filled the room and a frustrated sigh. “He was a little tipsy too so it’s probably a good thing.”. 

“Did tipsy Harry confess his love? He was always a soppy drunk.”. He was eager to know any juicy details. 

“Not entirely, just kept saying how his Mum thinks I’m the best for him!”. YN’s heart was still full from the words Harry whispered in her ear that night at the club. 

“Aw Anne…what a woman!” Niall beamed. “I might have to call her, ask if she’ll help me play Cupid.”.

YN giggled. “You’ll be glad to know Harry’s coming over in a few days and he’s staying at the house.”. Niall raised his eyebrows suggestively. “And I’m going to tell him I want us to get back together!”. 

“FINALLY!”. Niall’s loud accent echoed through the room. 

---

Like they had planned, Harry had flown over to London for a few days. They had enjoyed a snippet of their old lives. They woke up together, made breakfast together, walked Teddy, laughed at the silliest of things, even FaceTimed their families together. But with Harry flying back to America tomorrow YN was running out of time to confess her feelings. 

“I’ve uh..I’ve written a song and I’d like to play it for you.”. Harry’s voice surprised YN when he appeared with his guitar in hands. But she could sense he was nervous. 

YN was always Harry’s number one fan, so to hear something he had been working on was a privilege to her. “I’d love that!”. Her smile lit up her face. 

Walk in your rainbow paradise 

Strawberry lipstick state of mind 

I get so lost inside your eyes

Would you believe it?

You don't have to say you love me

You don't have to say nothing

You don't have to say you're mine

Honey 

I'd walk through fire for you

Just let me adore you

Oh, honey 

I'd walk through fire for you

Just let me adore you

Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

Harry didn’t look up once from his fingers strumming the guitar strings. But the minute he finished singing, his eyes found YN’s and was pleasantly surprised to see them shining proudly. 

“That’s such a beautiful song.” YN complimented. She always knew Harry was charming with his words, but when he put them into a song she fell in love even more.

“A beautiful song for a beautiful girl.”. The words effortlessly slipped from Harry’s mouth. Smooth! 

“Just one thing.” YN worked hard to keep her smile at bay. Harry waited patiently wondering what was wrong with the song. “What if I want to say I love you?”.

A cheesy grin formed on both their faces, both relieved that after all this time they both felt the same. “Then I want to hear you say it for the rest of my life.”.

“I love you.” YN brought her hand up to cup his cheek, flutters filled her stomach as she longed to feel his soft lips against hers.

“I love you.”. Harry mimicked her hand and placed his on her cheeks, pulling himself closer to push his lips against her. 

Their lips moved slowly to start, both getting to know one another again. But once the familiarity kicked in, so did their eagerness. Their lips moved messily against each other, both fighting for more. Their hands wandered, Harry’s down to her hips, pull them closer and YN’s found themselves in his curls. 

Pulling apart to catch their breaths, their foreheads stayed connected. “I adore you!”. 

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour @bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream @treehouse-mouse

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harrystyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles series #harry styles writing #one direction #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x tomlinson!reader #harry styles x oc #harry x reader #harry x yn #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry styles fic #harry styles series masterlist #harry styles masterlist #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #louis tomlinson #niall horan #zayn malik #liam payne #harry 1d #one direction imagine #one direction fanfiction #tomlinson!yn