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tteokdoroki · 8 months

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THIRD TIME'S A CHARM - kento nanami.

✩ — about. “my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it." kento nanami never cared for workplace shenanigans. he never took his mind off of work. and he never thought he would develop feelings for his coworker, nor expect for them to feel the same way about him. what happens when he misses your three attempts to ask him out? perhaps reddit will know... ( 5.5K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, angst, happy ending - video banner ! AITA-verse!au, office romance!au, mutual pinining, cluelessness, misunderstandings, christmas time, mentions of alcohol, office worker!nanami, afab!reader.

✩ — things to note. happy monday everyone, i have for you yet another fic to go with my gojo one! this story was written as a gift for @antizenin bc i love her so bad !! can be read as a stand-alone but does make refrences to my AITA gojo fic !! thank you to @todorosie for beta reading! hope you enjoy beloveds <3 - series m.list ⋆ m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it. my chest feels tight when they’re away and whenever they’re nearby my heart beats so fast i feel like i might pass. it would be a pleasure to date them or to just stand by them… there’s only one problem. i’m not usually the type of guy who engages in workplace shenanigans, i hardly know how to interact with people outside of the confines of my work. my coworker has made a few advances, at least i think they have. i don’t know how to respond or whether or not i’m over-thinking this. do they even like me? is it all in my head? i could really do with some advice… how should i go about this and telling them how i feel? TLDR: i have a crush on my coworker but i can’t, for the life of me, tell if they like me back.

you’ve always liked your co-worker, kento nanami.

to those who don’t know him, he appears quite stoic and blunt, cold even. like the crisp weather at the start of winter, air that’s sharp and bites unpleasantly at your nose. nanami tends to act the same towards those he holds no affections for, blocking them out as if he were a fortress made of stone.

one may even paint a picture of kento nanami as a lone wolf — callous and uninterested in the buzz of the office. he stays late, works long hours, never engages with the gossip on your floor after work.

that’s only the beginning of how the world sees your blonde co-worker.

but you have come to know nanami, in your short time working for Gojo Corporations. you’ve not been there very long, still adapting to the office culture and your brand new line of work, but in the few months that you have been finding your equilibrium in the office — you’ve gotten used to nanami’s demeanour, his ethic, his lifestyle. you’ve come to appreciate it, and him.

the man works hard, with a quiet confidence about him that puts your mind at ease — a quality you only wished that you had. it makes you curious, how little he seems to care about what it is Gojo Corp actually does but how much of his time he puts into it and how much he cares for the people around him too. you’ve learned, by taking the desk to nanami’s left, that he’d risen pretty quickly in the company, he begrudgingly seems to be gojo’s (your boss’) favourite employee and that he’s surprisingly good at what he does for someone who hates it so much.

he presents at meetings and debfriefs calmly, always gets through his tasks with an air of rationale and when you’d first started…nanami was kind, gently leading you through your own work as if he’d taken your hand in his and was guiding you to some place warmer — away from the chill of your nerves and self-doubt. in his own way, he cared. nanami was not as cold as one might think.

there’s so much more to him than what meets the average human eye. ever since joining the company — you found yourself curious, wanting to know everything about him. what drives him, what pisses him off, where he wants to go and who he wants to be. beneath his calm, collected and commanding aura there is a man whose heart holds many secrets. a man you want to know… and might even want to be with.

the very thought of being with nanami makes you shy where you wish that you weren’t. maybe then, you could tell the blonde office man how handsome you thought he looked while concentrating on filing reports and paperwork. perhaps you could then steel your nerves and stop the shake in your voice while telling him how much you like the low dip in his own when he explains KPIs and stock markets to you. not to mention how hard he works on keeping his patience with not just you… but the interns megumi, nobara and yuuji as well (yuuji was the brother of someone your boss new very well back in college, apparently). the ways in which he’s taken the young trio under your wing, it’s a wonder you haven’t had baby fever yet.

nanami even extends the same grace to your man-child of a boss, he wouldn’t have stayed working for Gojo Corp and for satoru gojo if he didn’t. in some ways, they were like a little family at the company, and nanami was the responsible one always picking up gojo’s messes and holding the others together.

especially on days when gojo came into work emotional over developments in his ex’s new life.

still, nanami stayed.

and your crush on him bloomed like a light frost spreading across the double-glazed glass of a window.

you felt your heartbeat speed up whenever nanami was close by and you could smell the ginger and cinnamon on him, not to mention, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand whenever your hands brushed over one another’s. nanami was warm on the inside, you knew that — he liked his interns, he cared for gojo especially when the days were tough (like when he holed himself up in his office after finding out his ex was getting engaged). he even brought lunch for the office floor. mostly soup for haibara whenever he got sick.

you knew deep down that nanami was soft and loving — you felt that he needed love too. you wanted to be the one to give it to him, even if it was the last thing you did.

ATTEMPT #ONE - THE CHRISTMAS PARTY.

satoru gojo’s office holiday parties were far from what was considered appropriate for the workplace.

with thousand dollar bottles of booze and jars of caviar dotted about the main conference room — it was hard for anyone not to be in high spirits. the notes of cheery christmas carols drift through your ears and the tinsel that your boss had thrown over your shoulders scratches at your neck uncomfortably. you’re not one for buzzing celebrations like this, they’re too noisy and loud, but gojo has made you promise to attend this year's party… and he was oddly convincing for a manager this unserious.

ultimately, you were glad that you’d decided to come because while being spoiled by your boss was all good and fun — it provided you with the perfect social setting and opportunity to speak to your longtime crush, nanami.

like you, he wasn’t a fan of forced mingling in the office, and had no interest in consoling his tipsy manager who was currently crying up a storm into one of his poor intern’s shoulders. the blonde office man kept to himself, tucked away by the bright lights of the christmas tree as he nursed a piping hot coffee — he wouldn’t be getting drunk on company time.

you manage to break away from conversing with shoko and make your way over to the latter co-worker, swallowing down your nerves with a swig of the moscato satoru had so generously picked out for you — knowing that you liked the sweeter stuff and that it would probably loosen your lips enough for you to get this over with (he and those interns were fully aware of how much you admired kento nanami). sliding up beside the man, your long, embroided skirts swish against his ankles — only serving to pull his attention away from his work phone and onto you.

taking a sip of your drink to warm yourself up with liquid courage and break the ice — you hum, quietly. “any plans for the holidays, kento?” you ask him simply, and though your deep and gorgeous brown eyes stay trained on the bubbles in your glass — you can feel kento’s own chocolatey pair land on the side of your face. whether they’re scrutinising you or admiring you, you can’t actually tell.

if you were looking, you’d be able to see the way that the sharp edges of kento’s usual expression soften across his face — the straight line of his lips are parted, his furrowed brows becomes relax and his posture no longer ridged, but instead, at ease. if you were looking you’d know that out of all of his co-workers (aside from the interns), kento is most comfortable around you. he find your meek and cautious demeanour adorable and the way that you sometimes awkwardly flutter around him in conversations is cute.

“not much, just working.” he responds quickly and shortly. to anyone else, they would have taken nanami’s reply as cold and callous, but you? you smile softly, glad that he’s even taking part in your small talk.

you’ve always been a little quieter than most colleagues at Gojo Corp, but you’ve always tried your hardest to make connections and bring the group together. you care for the interns so deeply, helping them to learn from your initial mistakes at the organisation and to do better. he likes that you’re good company, knowing just the right things to ask and when, allowing for comfortable silences when no one in the team feels like talking.

nanami likes you.

and perhaps that’s what makes him awkward around you as well, the very fact that he can’t find fault in you — that you’re too sweet and kind and gentle to complain about like he would with nagging gojo. what does he say to someone as wonderful as you?

he doesn’t want the moment to end, however. “how about you?”

the blonde says your name softly, as though he’s testing it out on his tongue — and you can’t help the warmth that blooms like a spring rose in your chest at the honeysuckle sound. you’re hot all over and you’re sure it’s not the alcohol.

“f-family!” you squeak shyly, voice high pitched as you fend off excitement — having nanami elaborate on your conversations isn’t a usual occurrence. coughing, you take a sip of your drink and knock it down a notch. not that kento would want you to, since he finds your enthusiasm to chat with him so endearing. “i have family…coming. o-over the break! flying in from abroad, so it’s going to be special.” the blonde’s brow raises with interest, and you latch onto the opportunity to speak with him further, basking in your quiet moment together. “i’m not usually one to cook, but my mother and i will be handling dinner together! so it’ll be a mix of all sorts of foods. traditional and from our home country too.”

nanami slips his work phone away in order to give you his full attention. “that sounds…wonderful,” he settles on saying. he wonders what your family is like, if they’re as shy and endearing as you or louder like that of the dynamics at the office. he imagines you surrounded by love, by laughter and warmth… and can’t help but yearn for the same. “i do miss home cooking, christmas in new york isn’t quite the same as japan.”

“t-then you’re welcome to spend christmas with us!” you blurt before your mind can even process what you’ve said. now you really must be drunk, or tipsy at the very least. who just invites their coworkers over to their house without getting to know them first. “we’ll have more than enough to fix you a plate…if you’d like,” despite your overexcited blunder, you remain hopeful that nanami will accept your invitation or at least get the hint. that you want to know him better and spend more time with him.

but nanami doesn’t take the hint, he can’t seem to figure out why you’d want to spend time with him outside of work, and so, puts up a respectful boundary. nanami smiles and puts down the coffee he’d been drinking. “i wouldn’t want to impose on your time with family.”

you frown, the stacked bricks of your excitement coming tumbling down. “kento that’s not what i meant—“

“look!” gojo cuts in, slurring from across the room as he points a shaky finger at the two of you by the tree. “they’re standin’ un’da the mistletoe!”

both yourself and nanami look up in disbelief to find yourselves standing under calculatedly placed mistletoe — no doubt due to the meddling of your boss. though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss nanami, it was more of question as to whether or not he wanted to kiss you.

“gojo, you’re drunk. and i really should be getting back to work.” kento insists, clearing his throat and immediately looking away from you with a bashful blush. you’re perfect, and darling, and to kiss you really would make kento’s day…but he’d never want to make you uncomfortable or put you on the spot like this. “i have budget reports for your meeting in a few hours.”

“fuck the reports, don’t you wanna kiss the pretty lady?” nanami looks to you, shying away from the conversation and squirming under the sudden attention of the office party-goers. “i wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

“i-i wouldn’t be.” comes your hushed whisper.

nanami coughs to clear his throat, flustered by you. “are you sure?”

having had enough of your back and forth, dancing around one another like two teenagers confessing to each other on white day — gojo steps in, forcing his drunk yet authoritarian hand. “come on nanamin,” the white haired man drawls impatiently. “if you don’t kiss her! i will!”

“no!” you and nanami bark adamantly in unison — causing gojo to smirk and stagger happily while megumi and yuuji hold him up.

“then go ahead and kiss. or i’ll have to fire you.”

the idea of losing your job over a trivial christmas tradition is enough to spook you into agreeing. that and you couldn’t imagine kissing satoru gojo… the thought makes you gag to yourself. “fine,” nanami grunts before looking to and addressing you next, “do you mind?”

you nod once, breath shaky. “it’s okay.”

“where are you most comfortable being kissed?”

“um, i haven’t… i’ve not had my first yet so…”

“ah, i see. i won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable then.” hearing the news makes something weird… stir within the blonde’s firm chest. being your first kiss, his co-worker’s first kiss is an appealing thought — almost a little twisted and selfish for him. to have that honour, to be the one you would give it to, makes his head spin.

gojo cute through his train of thought, however. “god, would you too hurry it up!”

nanami rolls his eyes at his boss (which would have gotten anyone else fired.) but let’s the corners of his pink lips quirk up into a subtle smile directed at you, and only you. cautiously, he leans down as though not to spook you like a deer in the woods, and takes your hand in his larger and more calloused one. “sorry about this.” he hums quietly, the rough pad of his thumbs traversing through the ridges of your knuckles.

“i-it’s fine.” you repeat your earlier sentiment, holding your burning breath as kento drags the back of your hand up to his lips. dark brown eyes meet even darker ones — your gentle gazes meeting in the middle as the tensions rise within the conference room. your entire body melts like butter in a pan and your heart bursts out your chest with the crescendo of the christmas music in the background when kento nanami presses a soft chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

your kiss under the mistletoe.

once he breaks eye contact and snaps out of it — nanami is quick to announce is departure, covering up his flustered expression. “now, i really must be getting back to work. thank you for the party gojo, kids,” he nods at you softly with an utterance of your name and leaves not long after, leaving you with a flurry of butterflies in your tummy.

leaving you a sheepish, warm mess because while you had intended to ask nanami out and failed, you still managed to get somewhat of a kiss.

you press your hand to your lips, feeling the warmth of kento’s lips embedded into the skin there. somehow, you find it within yourself to ignore gojo's whine for a proper mistletoe liplock in the background — choosing to focus on the lingering touch left by your crush.

“how about the receptionist, she’s into you!” you hear yuuji suggest, earning a cheer from your stupid silver haired boss.

the three interns plus gojo disappear from the party after that, while you remain stuck in place like a statue made of stones— repeating the kiss in your head over and over again, in your thoughts drowning in images of kento nanami.

ATTEMPT #TWO - THE SECRET SANTA.

“good morning, kento!”

“good morning to you too,”

bristling from nanami’s warm greeting (as well as him calling you by your first name), you shuffle into the seat beside him with cold cheeks and bright eyes — doing your best to quietly shift out of your winter attire to make sure you don’t disturb the rest of the conference room. you’ve just snuck into the team meeting for Gojo Corp’s annual secret santa. this year would be your first time taking part and it took a hell of a lot of bribing (not really, just some locally made daifuku and the number of the receptionist gojo might be crushing on) to convince your boss to give you nanami for the special festive event.

picking out a gift for your blonde haired and stoic presenting crush proved difficult at first. you already knew that kento spent a lot of time at the office, working hard and dedicating himself to hours of paperwork — but that wasn’t exactly useful to know when it came to gift giving. however, after weeks of gathering intel by tapping into whatever office buzz nanami was involved in and sharing short exchanges with him by the coffee cart outside of Gojo Corp, you’ve managed to learn two things about kento nanami.

one, his appreciation for something homemade or cooked — like the quaint family owned bakery not too far from the office.

and two, his dream destination. the one place that he’s always wanted to vacation to — Kuantan, Malaysia.

now you couldn’t exactly afford to just splurge and buy him a ticket over there, not to mention there was a considerate budget placed on gifts…but what you could do is bring nanami’s favourite things to the office. while gojo sets out the rules for staff, you gently place your carefully wrapped presents on the table before you, again, trying to avoid making a ruckus with the crinkling wrapping paper.

“you’re a little later than usual.” nanami comments to you in a low tone, having been watching you this entire time.

he would feel weird saying it out loud, but he notices that you’re always early into the office — clicking in around twenty minutes to nine every day and that you take your time in setting up your desk for the day. as though you have a routine to calm your anxieties.

“i had to stop by somewhere for a last minute gift.” you grin after a hushed quip. and nanami can’t help but find it contagious. you’re a warm ray of sunshine to him — one that he can’t help but want to bask under and be near, especially during this winter cold. you make kento feel at peace with your calm aura. the way you speak so tenderly and kindly. as he turns his attention back to a blabbering gojo, he finds himself growing jealous of whoever received your gift. whoever it is, he hopes that they appreciate your thoughtfulness.

after the rules are done, everything is exchanged between assigned pairs as gojo calls up who was responsible form who.

elation courses through nanami’s veins once he learns that his secret santa was you — happy to know that he is about to be on the receiving end of your perfectly wrapped presents.

“i hope you like them,” you bleat shyly, passing him the leopard print-covered gifts. the very sight makes him grin, since the paper matches his usual work tie.

the blonde takes his time unwrapping each layer of paper — as if he doesn’t want to ruin all the hard work you put into presenting this perfectly for him. a strong wave of fondness crashes over your co-worker once the first present is revealed. nanami’s favourite, freshly baked sandwich from the japanese bakery downtown. the one he visits every day, and the same sandwich he orders every time. the one that fills him with nostalgia and reminds him of home.

the next gift is even more thoughtful, and he fights off the urge to clutch his chest — as if cupid has shot an arrow right through his heart and made it yearn for you and your kindness. it’s a crocheted water lily, like those found in the Taman Gelora park in Malaysia. the same park that nanami has always wanted to go to.

there’s a little postcard of the location too — with a note scribbled in your precise handwriting, wishing nanami a happy christmas. he tries not to dwell on the heart signed next to your name.

your saccharine voice slices through kento’s wild and appreciative thoughts delicately and he spares you a glance, watching your features as they illuminate with happiness from his reaction. you can tell that he likes your gift, and that fills you both with joy. “i heard from a little bird that you’ve always wanted to take a trip to Kuantan. and while i couldn’t get you a ticket myself, i figured these would be the next best thing. plus some food for your flight.” you joke while nanami thumbs the ridges of the yarn making up his water lily gift.

he laughs then, remembering how yuuji had grilled him about his dream vacation weeks back. it must have been for you.

you’re so selfless and thoughtful, it still blows the blonde office man’s mind that you would have gone through the trouble of getting him such a gift. most times, colleagues at Gojo Corp settle for fancy chocolates or snooty vouchers for department stores… but you used so much of your own time and effort to create something that kento nanami would truly appreciate. it drives him mad that he can’t seem to figure out why. why would you do something so nice for him?

“i wish i could have gotten you something in return.” he mumbles fondly.

“i don’t need anything from you kento,” you say sweetly, making his heart race as you put your hand over his. “i appreciate you and you’re my friend. i don’t need anything more.” you figure now is a bad time to confess to him, in front of everyone. though you might have chosen the wrong words — because while you do want more from nanami, he now thinks that you don’t, pulling away from you slightly. “i… i appreciate everything you do for the company. a-and i like spending time with you. being your friend.”

you facepalm internally, knowing you could have worded yourself better — but the realisation comes a little too late, for nanami is already pulling away from you, his once soft smile falling into place with the harsh lines of a frown. “thank you for the gifts,” he says, a little colder. now that he’s figured out why you truly made him those gifts. you see nanami as a friend, a good one. nothing more, like he had secretly hoped. “i must be getting back to work.”

“o-oh but kento—“ he looks down at you icily, you have no idea why he’s being so cold. he hasn’t a clue either, it’s not like you know of his affections or fondness towards you. you thought that calling yourselves friends would be just fine… at least until you found the confidence to confess properly. “nanami…did i offend you? i didn’t mean to pry with your gifts! i just wanted them to be perfect—“

“—you’re fine. just… duty calls. paperwork.”

“oh, right.” you reply, weak and defeated, thinking that he’s mad at you. rejecting you again. “good luck nanami…”

“thanks,” he mumbles. “for this, and the gift.”

“you’re welcome,” you say, mostly to yourself but before you can say more he’s disappeared from the conference room and gone back to his cubicle.

ATTEMPT #THREE - THE EVE OF CHRISTMAS.

as mentioned before, your boss isn’t exactly the serious type.

satoru gojo is silly and often irresponsible in regards to work. he’s had a lot to deal with and a lot to learn, he covers his mistakes with charms and smiles, but he’s learning. and when it comes down to it, satoru cares for the company, the office and most importantly — his staff.

which is why he makes it a rule that no one in his main team should work over the christmas period — with no exceptions.

of course, the ever-dedicated kento nanami has always found a loop-hole in avoiding the festive rule and his manager’s simple christmas wish. which is why, much to your chargin, satoru has meddled a little bit and sent you into the office to send nanami home. usually you wouldn’t mind the opportunity to speak with your crush, but after your second rejection from him in such a short space of time, you’re not so sure your little heart can take seeing the man before the holidays.

you’d agreed to satoru’s request nonetheless, your family didn't arrive until tomorrow and you couldn’t live with yourself if you let kento work through the night. you still had feelings for him after all.

when you arrive at your office, it’s dark and dim — matching the evening and it’s weather outside. you assume that any cleaning staff have already gone home, instructed by nanami who would also hate to keep people behind on Christmas Eve. it seems like him to offer to clean up after himself.

rounding the corner, you spot him in the conference room, tucked away by the tree from your christmas party as he taps away at his work laptop — no doubt finishing the Q3 report. you push past the glass door and make your way inside, tugging your scarf, hat and coat off while you watch nanami work. you hang them all up on a nearby coat rack.

“i know you’re there,” he speaks into the dark silence. “is that you, satoru? i’m not going home.”

“actually, satoru sent me in here to make sure you weren’t working on Christmas Eve.” you respond in an even tone, ignoring the slash of hurt over your heart when nanami fails to even spare you so much as a glance upon hearing your dulcet voice.

he instead scoffs, returning to his work. “tell him that i’m fine. i don’t need to be babysat. i know when to take a break.” kento doesn’t why he’s being so harsh with you, it’s not like you knew of his feelings. calling him your friend had been a token of kindness, but he let his rationality slip away and acted out because… what? he was afraid of your rejection?

despite his mean words, you stand your ground and refuse to leave kento alone. “i figured you might say that, so i bought you some food. these are cookies from the bakery that you like and they should keep you going,” you rummage in your tote for a small of cookies — pushing them across the large conference table for your stubborn blond co-worker. “the girl that works there is sweet. maybe we should go sometime, we can take a break from your work and have some cold turkey sandwiches ahead of Christmas Day—“

“if i wanted sweets i would have called up that meddling boss of ours, satoru,” nanami seethes, losing his patience. the more he looks at you, those big brown eyes and your soft, beautiful face, the more hurt he feels, the more nauseated he feels knowing that you might not like him the way he likes you. as just friends, instead of something more. “why are you here?”

you blink back your suprise. “w-what?”

“don’t you have family to be spending the night with?”

“i do it’s just… i worry about you, nanami. you work too hard, it’s christmas.”

“i really, really would like to finish the report so i can go home.”

your face scrunches up with rage and using that same fury, you march over the blonde man in three short strides — grabbing his chair and whirling him around to face you. you slam his laptop closed with enough power to shatter the damn thing, fixing nanami to look at you. ”what is wrong with you?”

“pardon?”

“i’ve… i’ve been trying all month to show you how much..how much i care about you and how much i like you. but it’s like you don’t even see me.” your voice warbles despite how angry you are, tears threatening to spill over the edge of your lashes. everything hurts, you don’t know what you’ve done to make nanami resent you in the way that he does now. perhaps if you were different, more confident and self assured maybe he would notice your gestures and implications. maybe he would like you back.

you wish for the darkness of the office to swallow you whole and make you disappear as you and nanami do nothing but stare blankly at each other. however, the lights on the obnoxious christmas tree continue to flash in the corner — illuminating the crystal tears clumped in your lashes and the slope of your features with a perfect golden glow. nanami sees you, he always has…but what good would a man like him be to a girl like you? sure, he wants to settle down, wants christmas with someone he loves, somewhere comfortable where he doesn’t have to worry about a thing — let alone money.

…but nanami is a tough nut to crack, he keeps to himself so much that even now you’re struggling hard to get him to speak his truth, and his feelings. he wouldn’t want you to give up trying even while he struggles to open up.

“i see you.” finally, kento finds his confidence and admits his truth to you. “i always have.”

he stands from his seat, towering over you and you stumble back. “do you? i’ve tried so hard… to tell you…”

the blonde leans down to your height and your words trail off, overwhelmed by him. “to tell me what?”

he prays that you can’t hear the pound of his heart against his ribcage or the blood rushing through his ears… but nanami has never stepped out of line or taken a risk and if he doesn’t, break the rules, he could risk losing the one good thing at this god forsaken place. “that i… that i like you. kento. i-i’m fond of you.” you exhale through your words, succumbing to everything that makes up kento nanami. his scent, gingerbread and fresh mint, makes you dizzy, his proximity makes your world tilt on its axis and you’re so nervous that you latch onto the collar of his dark blue dress shirt to keep yourself steady.

nanami seizes the opportunity to pour into you every emotion that he can’t bring himself to say. his large hands settle gingerly on the small of your back and his warm breath coasts over your fleshly lower lip, as if to ask for permission to kiss you properly. “may i?” comes his timbre voice, equality as shaky as yours had been earlier. you shake your head ‘yes’, giving nanami your consent to press his lips against your own in a life changing kiss. the action is tender, guiding you in all of the right places where you lack experience. the fists you'd formed in the collar of his shirt loosen the more that nanami works your lips in his gentle kiss — warming the frost over your little heart.

“i’m quite fond of you too,” he says your name after finally giving you the room that you need to breathe and kento brushes a thumb over your the swell bottom lip before he kisses you gently again. “i’m sorry i didn’t say so earlier.”

still holding onto him, a breathy chuckle escapes you as if you’re in shock. “w-what…what changed your mind? i thought you didn’t like me like that…”

“it wasn’t my mind that needed changing. it was the way i saw how you felt about me… i should have asked instead of assuming you only saw me as a friend. that was my mistake,” nanami explains carefully, choosing his words wisely. “you’ve been fair and kind to me, and i failed to give you the same grace due to my own doubts. i admire you, and should have confessed to you sooner but i—“

“but you wanted to finish working first, i get it.” you giggle and lean up to peck kento on the lips, stealing the words right out of his mouth. “just… please talk to me next time. i thought you were mad at me.”

your blonde co-worker, crush and now.. partner? (that was to be decided) gives your waist an apologetic squeeze — acknowledging his mistakes. “i owe you that much,” he replies warmly, “now how about those turkey sandwiches you were talking about?” nanami questions you awkwardly, in his own charming way of asking you out for a date on christmas eve.

after packing up and like a gentleman, he retrieves your scarf, hat and coat from the nearby coat rack by the door and gently pulls them over you one by one. like he cares, like he might even love you. he even zips you up to protect your cheeks from the bitter cold. nanami folds his own coat over the bend of his and grasps your hand firmly in his — keeping you close as you walk out of the office, a newly formed christmas couple.

somewhere off in the distance, the boss of the Gojo Corp office watches with a sly grin. while satoru might not have gotten his holiday romance, he’s glad his little plan was enough to get yourself and nanami together.

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shegetsburned · 27 days

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IS IT THAT SWEET? I GUESS SO. w. shiu kong ⋆.˚ ᡴꪫ

── ask content. “i gotta know, outside of the fwb!shiu au, what are your sfw and NSFW headcanons about him?”

sfw

negligent in keeping a normal sleep schedule, but when you’re with him he’s sleeping like a baby tucked between your breasts, arms wrapped around your lower waist, almost drooling on your shirt and you’ve never seen him this relaxed. he comes home late and just drops on you, easily drifting to sleep two minutes later.

a very well hidden case of chronic stress. he’s working a dangerous job with dangerous clients, which couldn’t be more stressful— even more when his client’s a greedy fool who kills teenagers. shiu has worked in the field enough time to make it unseen, but his stress level is constantly on a high, and guess who he goes to when it’s too much.

nonchalantly allows you to spend his money. he’s greedy with anyone else but you. you’ve got the password for his card and he’s even bought a credit card to your name in case anything happens. 'y/n kong' is written on the backside, with a more-than-generous credit limit.

makes time for you even with his fucked up schedule. he’s taking you out on expensive dates just to watch you parade in that pretty little dress he bought you days prior. it’s often 4-5 stars restaurants or breathtaking views.

he’s leaving early in the morning and doesn’t want to wake you up? there are flowers on the counter with a sweet note. you fell asleep waiting for him when he works late? beautiful flowers in the room when you wake up. you’re pissed at him for some stupid shit he did? no, you’re not. not when you’ve got flowers in your hands and he’s taking you to your favourite restaurant to make up for your stupid argument.

nsfw

knows how to properly enjoy every women’s features. he’s an ass and a boobs man, but also a thighs, waist, shoulders, eyes and lips man. he’s attracted to every part and shows his undeniable obsession when his hands travel from your hips to your back and to the nape of your neck to your sweet lips.

loves fucking you from behind. the sweat dripping from the curve of your back all the way to the flesh of your ass does things to him. while he plants his nails around your waist to steady the pace, he can’t help but get a mental picture of the addictive features of his beautiful girl.

takes a puff between kisses and blows the smoke into your mouth, intoxicating you further with the euphoric taste.

shiu ‘just one last time’ kong, but the next thing you know, he’s got you in a nasty mating press, ready to fuck his cum into you and bring both of you to yet another orgasm.

he’s truly obsessed. when he comes back home, he barely has removed his jacket when he cages you in the corner of the room, his hand buried under your shirt with a cocky smirk. he doesn’t remove anything but lower his pants and it’s sloppy and rough when he fucks into you.

the most silent man ever, but when he does make sound, it might be what finishes you right off. it’s guttural groans and heavy breathes against the crook of your neck.

he insist you speak his name, though. the quivering word that come out of your puffy lips leaves his cock pulsating. he definitely gets hard from it.

cigarettes. after. sex.

@honeyandbiscuitandtea-cafe for being equally if not more obsessed over the man as i am <𝟑

#—﹙🎐﹚𑣲 by yours truly﹒#shiu x reader #jjk smut #shiu smut #shiu kong #jjk shiu #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #shiu kong x reader #shiu x you #jjk hcs #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #shiu hcs

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marvelwitchergilmore · 2 months

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I’ve seen Twisters a couple of times now and something that isn’t being talked about enough is the way Tyler looks at Kate.

The best scene for this example (I can’t find a gif) is when they’re at the lunch with her mom and he tells Kate to keep her clothes on and she stands up.

He looks at her like she hung the fucking moon.

And I fucking LOVE IT.

How he comes to her and gives her the pizza, how he WAITS FOR HER TO OPEN THE DOOR AGAIN. How he talks with her at the rodeo and they work together to get people to safety. How he covers her from the car during the tornado. How he goes and finds her after it and he looks up at her bedroom window the day he leaves. How he brings her into the Tornado Wrangler Family and she’s herself again.

And THAT PICTURE SCENE. Oh my god- I’m melting. At first I thought he was the one taking it but when he was stood to the side watching and asked for a copy….god I love them.

I can imagine Kate finding that picture one day - maybe inside his cowboy hat, maybe somewhere in his truck so he can always see her when she’s not with him - and Tyler getting all smitten and blushing as she teases him relentlessly.

There might not have been a kiss scene but seeing the bts helps heal that small hole. But either way, Tyler and Kate’s foundation and growth of relationship is one of the BEST ever! And with the extra scenes after it ends, helps solidify the happiness and exterminate the fear that their story is left so open it might not exist after the movie.

But it does. It does exist.

This man DRILLED his truck into the ground outside to go after her. (Which is Iconic, by the way.)

That man fell in love at first sight, even if he didn’t fully know it yet. The minute he saw her, his eyes never left her. And I loved every second of their rivalry (and the way it hops between them both explaining a twister) and friendship and relationship.

This movie will forever be one of my top favourites.

Whether you like disaster movies, with a sub-plot of romance and comedy or not— please. Everyone. Go and watch this movie. Even if it is just to see the chemistry between these two characters.

#twisters #Tyler looks at Kate like she hung the fucking moon #even the Galaxy #and I am here for it #tyler owens #Kate cooper #twisters movie #glen powell #daisy edgar jones #tyler x kate #tornado wranglers #cowboy scientist #cowboys #men written by women #fluff #romance #disaster movie #romance subplot

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daddyricsdoll · 8 months

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Benefits ✭ Ollie Bearman

Summary: Going to Ollie's home for dinner is easy. But being friends like this, has its benefits. In this case Ollie wanted his time home to be better than it already was, starting in his sim chair.

Warnings: Unprotected sex. I think that's all, I don't know if hickeys along breasts count as well.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Based off of this lovely request.

“Hey, welcome.” Terri opens the door and pulls Ollie in for a hug, me seconds after. “It’s been so long. Dinner is still cooking but for now Ollie can show you around. I know you've been here a million times but it’ll give you guys something to do.” She smiles, walking us out of the foyer. We both say hi to the rest of his family, his sister questioning if we’re dating yet.

“No, of course not. We’re just really good friends.” A grin arises on my face as I look toward Ollie, enjoying the view of him laughing with his younger brother. He seems like such an innocent and sweet boy, which he can be, but then the filthy words he groans in my ear and the way he uses my body says otherwise.

“Come on, let’s see if they've changed my room yet.” He leads me away, everything getting quiet except for the light padding of our feet against the floor. We both walk in, noticing not a single thing has changed.

“Well that isn’t too exciting. I was hoping they changed it all so I could act sad like they do in movies, and then I’d see an old picture in a frame and all the memories would come rushing back.” I laugh as I walk closer to his sitting body. Grabbing his cheeks and then smacking a kiss on his lips. It was fast and quick, an impulsive decision. But could I say I regretted it? No.

I turn away from him and walk into my favourite room of this house– the simulator room. It’s where we would usually hangout. He would be on the sim and I’d watch, it went on for hours which makes me think how I even managed to stay there for long.

“I knew you’d be here.” A familiar British voice emits into the room.

“Well where else would I be? I’m not going into your parents room.” His chucklee fills the silence of the room as he walks toward the sim. m as he makes his way to the sim chair.

“Still feels the same.” He sits back and stretches his arms out to the steering wheel. I walk closer to him sitting in it he lets out a sigh. “Still feels the same.”

“Is that good or bad?” I walk closer to him, legs brushing against his body and the chair.

“I don’t know.” Ollie grabs me by my thighs and pulls my body onto his. “Would you like to make it better?”

I drag my finger down his face and neck, trailing down his chest. “And how might I do that?” I bite on the side of my bottom lip, keeping it tugged between my teeth as my eyes roam over his face. Ollie doesn’t say a word, instead he grabs my hips and adjusts my body so I straddle on his lap.

His mouth makes contact with my skin, lips lazily parted as he drags it along my skin, forcing my breath to hitch and head to incline toward the ceiling. Going down my throat and toward my cleavage, hands along my sides before he starts undoing the button and zip of my pants. I lift my hips to help him take it off easier before he mirrors his actions on himself.

“We’ve got to be quick, and quiet.” He says in advance to capturing my lips with his. Ollie grabs me by my thighs and holds me in the perfect position before he helps lower me onto his dick. Easily sliding onto him. I begin to take control, letting him lean against the chair and watch me as I try to control my moans.

Biting my lip and sliding my hand up my top. Ollie holds my hips then waist, moving higher each second and lifting my top. Quickly removing my hand so he can take up the job, rolling my nipples with his thumb.

“Fuck. They don’t know, their sweet little boy is getting fucked on his sim chair.” I manage to say between pants. Rolling my hips and feeling him hit the spot endlessly. Groans and moans coming out of his mouth. “They don’t know I’m gonna fill you up and the only thing you’ll think about is my dick.” I become speechless at his words, only moans leaving my lips.

Oliver steals the control from me, leading my body as it moves up and down, meeting his and making our skin slap together. He pulls me in closer, attacking my neck with kisses, trying to control himself from marking my exposed skin. So instead he lifts my shirt and covers my breast with his lips, planting love bites and claiming territory that isn’t his.

My nipples so sensitive and climax creeping up on me, all it takes is his tongue teasing my breasts and the roll of my hips to knock me off and release.

I hide my face in his neck, with hopes the sounds that come out of my mouth become muffled. Ollie pushes my body into him. My unclothed skin rubbed against his clothed.

He holds my ass tightly as he releases; Coming with a groan from deep in his throat.

I ride both of our highs out, the room smelling of sex and the sound even louder.

Ollie helps me off him before going to the bathroom to grab a cloth. I sit on the sim chair with my legs wide open as he cleans me with precision. The only thing on my mind being his dick– oh I hate that he was right– and how amazing it would be if he were mine.

“Friends do this… right?” I ask, watching him look up at me with flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

“Yeah, I guess.” Words uncertain, but I’ll trust him.

He finishes cleaning me, soon doing the same with himself.

“Guys, dinner is ready!” Ollie’s mum shouts, making us both realise the situation and rush to aim to look normal.

“Ok, we’re coming.” Ollie says back, running his fingers through his hair and waiting for me before walking down the stairs looking like two friends, who have lost the definition of friends and call it benefits.

#ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman imagine #ollie bearman smut #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman #oliver bearman #ollie bearman fluff #ollie bearman x y/n #f1 smut #f2 smut #f2 fluff #f2 fanfic #f2 fic #f2 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 2 #formula 1 smut

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hatakemrs · 5 months

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"Hq Boys and little things they do in their relationship. Pt1"

Warnings: None <3

Characters : Kuroo Tetsuro, Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio, Suna Rintaro.

Pt.1 Pt.2

Kuroo would buy you gifts without any special occasion. It isn't always something fancy like gold jewellery or an expensive dress you want (although he also buys them for you). He likes to give thoughtful gifts like a keychain of an anime character you like or a flower that reminds him of you. He picks up your favourite food whenever you sound like you're sad. You casually talk about a book you liked and he would buy you the sequel to that book or more books from that author. He catches you searching for lipstick online and the next day it arrives at your door even though you didn't order it. He loves spoiling you<3

Oikawa would watch your favourite shows with you. He hates horror but he would watch a horror movie if you want to watch it on movie night. You are so excited about this show and will make theories about it and Oikawa would just listen to you and if he had watched the show he would add to your theories. He likes to go on movie dates with you. He likes listening to your reviews about the movies. At one point he might open an account on letterboxd to keep track of the movies you watched and if you love a film, he would find a similar film to watch with you.

Kageyama helps you with tasks without being asked. He has a day off from practice but you had work. Yet you wake up to find Kageyama is already out of bed and the smell of coffee reaches you. He is in the kitchen making you breakfast. When you say he didn't have to do that on his day off, he just kisses your forehead and says he likes doing things for you. He will reach for the things in the top shelf for you even though you said you could do it yourself. He just teases you for being short.

Suna would click random pictures of you. His gallery is full of your pictures, and the most random ones. You are laughing with the rest of the Inarizaki team and he will capture your laugh because he finds it cute. You would peacefully read a book or do something in the corner and he would click pictures. He even takes pictures of you sleeping(not in the creepy way) he claims you look so dreamy while asleep he can't help it. He saves the most embarrassing picture of you as his screensaver just so he can look at it when he's sad. His social media is also filled with your pics. Gotta let everyone know you're taken.

Anyways hoped you like it <3 Will makes a part 2 . Comment which characters you want in them.

A/n: Hiii! I'm back in my Haikyuu era again! I just miss my boys sm I need more Haikyuu content fr 😭.

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 6 months

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the five stages | f. odair

masterlist

summary: a journey back to a golden period of time of polaroid pictures, white knitted sweaters, and lively sea-green eyes. why? because in the present, those same pair of eyes are ruthlessly unrelenting and you have no other chance of their escape.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: heavy angst, vomiting, implied smut, depression, maggots, hallucinations, relieving fluff, mild horror. I don’t want to spoil the story too much, so I won’t be adding any more warnings, sorry y’all. this could be very triggering so please read at your own discretion. some descriptions are quite graphic!

notes: I’m super proud of this one—it’s sorta based off “little talks” by of monsters and men and “on the nature of daylight” by max richer. this fic probably won’t get many views, so I’ll be incredibly grateful for any—if any at all—type of engagement! <33

word count: 8k

The bedroom was cold; dark; empty. Empty even though I still resided in it.

My alarm had gone off two hours ago, yet I hadn’t moved an inch. When I finally turned my head to the side, I found that the space beside me was vacant. Cold; dark; empty—I reached out my hand anyway.

Thirty minutes passed before I wrestled myself out of bed and started making breakfast downstairs. The otherwise warm and flavourful plate of fruit-filled yoghurt and scrambled eggs on toast left my mouth feeling dry and my throat lodged.

It used to be one of my favourite meals. At least, when he was around.

Dishes were piled in the sink, dirty and untouched. I sat on the couch, pondering whether today was the day I would finally get to cleaning them. It wasn’t. I couldn’t. We always did that together. I wondered—if I left them in the sink long enough, would he return? Even just for five minutes to help me put them away? One month and seventeen days had passed, and yet I still entertained this thought religiously.

I wasted an hour running circles round the same contemplations before deciding fresh air, as cliché as it was, might do me some good.

Grey clouds concealed the sun’s warm golden light when I stepped outside, but that was fine—I didn’t like anything golden anymore. But he would want me to leave the house at least once a day, so that’s what I would do. I would go down to the beach beside our—my house and feel the sand collect between my toes as I walked to the water’s edge.

But wasn’t that where he was when it happened? Wasn’t he in water? Didn’t those things pile on top of him? Didn’t they sink their fangs into his neck and tear at his flesh until he was blown to…

Bits of egg, yoghurt and stomach bile sat at my feet. My legs buckled, and I collapsed to the ground in a sandy, tear-stricken heap. Since my lower body had refused to cooperate any longer, it took me until midday to crawl back up the dune and to my front doorstep.

Fuck. I needed to rest.

“I need you to rest, sweetheart.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” I whined. “I’m not sick.”

Finnick placed a bucket on the ground beside the bed. The room smelled of lemon disinfectant—a joy I often found in being sick… That is, if I were sick, which I was not. I must have drunk spoiled milk or eaten something bad during breakfast. Nevertheless, Finnick was not having it.

“You’re throwing up everything you manage to get down, and you’re shivering like it’s the middle of winter,” he said adamantly, tucking the comforter up to my chest. “It’s summer, and you’re very much not fine.”

I sat up, ready to heatedly debate the subject, but the room began swirling, and my ears were hissing like a staticky television channel without a signal. A quiet whimper buzzed in my throat as I hunched forward. Damn him, I was sick.

The mattress dipped as Finnick sat beside me. His hand was on my back, rubbing it soothingly as he used his other hand to tuck away the curtain of hair concealing my face. I huffed, half in annoyance, half in an attempt to suppress the nausea rising in my throat, and then sunk back against the pillows.

“Not sick, she says,” he jested, smiling down at me. I rolled my eyes, though unable to hide the weak, betraying smile creeping across my lips. “Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he said, a gentle command. “I’ll see you when you fall asleep.”

The wooden flooring welcomed me with hard, cold arms as I hauled my sandy body through the front door. Images of fangs, bloody flesh, and panicked sea-green eyes flooded my mind.

More breakfast, more bile. No lemon disinfectant.

My knees were folded beneath my body; my body was hunched over my knees. I was sobbing now, so hard that I threw up again (was there even anything left in my stomach at this point?), creating a thick puddle of vomit and tears beneath me. Cries and gasps for air bounced around the house. To call me a mess would be an understatement. I was a disaster. A disaster wrapped up in an unmendable tragedy with a ragged, threadbare ribbon barely holding me together.

And in case I wasn’t aware of this fact, the floorboards were so shiny that they mirrored a reflection of myself. My hair was a being of its own, all wild and unkempt, and my face was another story entirely—a red, blotchy thing I wasn’t too interested in delving into.

But the most unsettling aspect had nothing to do with me, it was that there was someone else in the reflection. Two green balls of light were glowing above my head.

Dishevelled golden hair…

Dimpled cheeks…

My forehead was pressed to the floor as I screamed.

“I don’t want to make you sick as well,” I said, contrarily enjoying the feeling of Finnick’s skin warm against mine, hot blood flowing through his veins.

A day had passed since I first became unwell, and the sickness had continued to wreak havoc inside me.

We were both under the thick covers, our limbs tangled together as he held me atop his chest. (my body didn’t register the scorching summer temperatures. I actually felt as though my core temperature was a few degrees below freezing. Meanwhile, Finnick was characteristically toasty warm. It was perfect for me, but not so much for him, evident in the beads of sweat collecting on his forehead. Nevertheless, he made no complaints).

My body rose and fell with each breath he took. I was trying to inhale whenever he exhaled in a weak attempt to prevent the festering sickness in my body from entering his, and though it was a futile gesture, I did it anyway.

“In sickness and health, remember?” he said.

I smiled. “We’re not even married.”

“Yet, you mean,” he countered. “I plan on spending the rest of my life with you, sweetheart. You know that.”

My heart fluttered at the thought of spending an entire lifetime with him—waking up in each other’s embrace each morning, the warm sunlight peeking through the blinds of our bedroom; Finnick calling me “Mrs. Odair” or “My wife” at every opportunity because doing so made us both giggle like two moronic, love-struck teenagers; and being unable to prevent the deep smile lines on both our cheeks as we age, a constant display of our perpetual happiness.

“Sixty more years of having and holding you,” he continued with a gentle musing in his tone. “For better or for worse... For richer or for poorer.” He then stroked the side of my face and brushed away the sweaty strands of hair sticking to my forehead. “In sickness and in health…”

“…Until death do us part,” I finished, my voice slow with fatigue.

Two fingers sat beneath my chin and tilted my head upward. My eyes connected with Finnick’s. They were soft. Heartfelt.

“Not even then. I’ll love you beyond the grave,” he murmured. Then his lips were slowly curving into a pensive smile. “When we’re both ghosts and haunting the next owners of this house.”

I was now smiling, too. “I’d hoped you would say something like that.”

How could he lie like that? There was no we. There were no next owners. There was only me, alive and alone in a comatose house. And mind you, I was sane enough to know that it wasn’t actually his ghost haunting me, though I wish I weren’t because having that knowledge was even worse. It meant he was truly erased from existence.

“Go away,” I whispered to the reflection on the floor.

He didn’t. His vacant green eyes kept staring down at my crumpled figure.

I shot off the floor and spun around, hot tears streaming down my face. “Go away!” His face remained expressionless. He looked like himself, only colder. “You said sixty more years! You said we’d be together!” I mindlessly picked up and flung a small picture frame at him, only for it to pass through his body and shatter on the floor behind him. “Why did you lie to me?!” My voice was frayed with fury, though underlined with grief.

He said nothing, did nothing. All he did was watch.

My legs buckled, and I was on the floor again. I was whispering, half-sobbing, the same question over and over until the words slurred together. “Why’d you lie? Why’d y’lie?” The only time I stopped was when my tongue grew too heavy to move anymore.

To my surprise, he eventually came and sat beside me, remaining cold and silent—as I too had become.

Glass fragments from the picture frame were scattered across the floorboards. The photo within had fallen out and, ironically, drifted towards me. I didn’t bother acknowledging him as I moved onto my hands and knees and began crawling forward—my palms slicing open and blood seeping out—until the photo was in my hands. My shins had granules of glass pricking into them, but I couldn’t feel the pain; all I could do was stare at the memory in my hands.

The picture had been taken in District Thirteen, a day before he signed up for… the mission.

I was drifting in and out of sleep when a sudden bright flash lit up my eyelids.

“Oops.”

Heavy eyes fluttering open, I was met with a small camera pointing down at me, which was being held up by a lengthy muscular arm, which was connected to an even more muscular and broad shoulder, which was connected to—okay, sorry, I think you get it.

“Finnick!” I shrieked, pulling the covers over my naked figure.

He laughed, the vibrations rumbling deep within his chest, beneath my ear. A soft whirring sound accompanied the polaroid sliding out of the camera, its black film hiding the doubtless embarrassing picture beneath. He placed the film on the sheets beside him, letting the photo develop in darkness.

“I was supposed to cover the flash,” he said, still chuckling.

I rubbed my eyes, which were twinkling with little sparkles of light. “I think you blinded me.”

“Lucky you,” he jested. “You’re finally free from my repulsive exterior.”

I started to reach for the picture beside him—“You’re an idiot”—but then he was rolling us over until his arms were pillared on either side of my head and he was hovering above me.

His hair was a mess, a testament to the night before (and very early hours of the morning), and he was sporting a beautiful, lazy grin. “Yeah? Well, you’re engaged to an idiot,” he said, tilting his head in an arrogant manner. “So what does that make you?”

The sea-glass ring hugging my finger gleamed in the lamp’s dull light as I reached out to touch his face, my fingertips brushing along the edges of his pronounced jawline. Tangled strands of hair and a beaming smile were reflecting back at me in his eyes. No one had ever loved anyone as much as I loved Finnick—disregarding the one exception that was staring down at me.

“Blinded by love,” I whispered.

Brief yet poignant emotion trickled through his features, his eyes. Then, like a flick of a switch, he covered it up and lowered his face into my neck, groaning the words, “So corny.”

My fingers were tangled in his hair, holding him close to me. “Liar,” I laughed. “You loved it.”

“I love you, which is why I put up with your corniness,” he murmured into my skin.

Even after all this time, my heart still leapt whenever he said those three words, even when he was being a jerk about it. I kissed the top of his head. “I love you, too.”

We laid like this for a short while longer—Finnick keeping his face buried in the warmth of my neck, his arms curled beneath my body; me playing with the golden waves of his hair that were somehow softer than my own. He was so heavy on top of me that it was starting to become difficult to breathe, but in no universe would I ever tell him to get off. It was a blissful sort of suffocation.

A sort anyone would snap a picture of just to keep as a reminder of how beautiful it feels to be smothered with love. With that being said, the picture that lay awaiting beside me was brought back to mind.

“Oh no,” I moaned, picking it up and taking a short glance at the developed photo. I covered my face with my hands, repeating the words, “Oh no.”

The photo was plucked from my fingers, and Finnick began humming contentedly to himself.

In the photo, my face had been nuzzled into his bare, muscular chest, eyes closed in sleep-drunken serenity, hair thrown over my shoulder and spilling across the pillow. My hand rested on his contoured stomach with just enough of my upper arm and low light to conceal my breasts. Finnick had a delicate hand draped over my waist. He was gazing down at me with a smile that was just… full of pure love.

I had to admit—it was a beautiful picture. Despite my initial disapproval.

“Beautiful,” I heard him echo my thoughts, his eyes still scanning the photo. Then his brows furrowed, and his head slightly inched forward as though he had just noticed something peculiar in the picture. “Oh, and you are too, I guess.”

My head tilted back against the pillow with an abrupt laugh. I shook my head, looking back at him. “I hate you.”

“Liar,” he said, leaning in closer.

His lips were on mine for what must have been the millionth time in the past few hours. The bedside clock announced that breakfast was soon approaching, though it was clear neither of us would make an appearance within the next hour (or two).

“You love me,” he whispered as he slid inside me.

And I did.

I really did.

The muscles in my cheeks were straining due to how hard I was smiling.

It wasn’t my idea to keep a picture of us half-naked in the entryway of our home. He always was a bit unusual like that. Completely unashamed of who he was and how he acted. Sometimes a little too boisterously, but that’s what I loved so much about him—how confident he was in his love for me, so much so that nothing else mattered, no one else’s opinion.

God, I love him so much.

Love…?

Wait.

That’s not right.

Shouldn’t it be “loved”?

And why was I smiling? I didn’t have anything to smile about anymore. He was gone. Our wedding never occurred. Our faces never wrinkled with smile lines. Our clasped hands never weathered with age. He was gone.

The polaroid slipped from between my fingers. My hands were covered in glass and blood, blood that had painted a dark red splotch in the middle of the shiny film. Figures.

After a short while of staring blankly at the scattered debris decorating the floor, I finally found it in myself to start climbing back onto my feet. My straightened legs wobbled and ached beneath me with the little energy I had. That’s what happens when you can barely stomach food anymore: no energy, always sleeping, always swamped by nightmares or bittersweet memories—at this point, they were one and the same.

Not a strand of gold or a fleck of green was in sight when I glanced over my shoulder. For now, at least. He liked making an appearance once or twice a day.

Pieces of glass crunched beneath my bare, stinging feet as I made for the stairwell. A mess for another day, I reasoned. Just like the dishes. Sticky red footprints stamped each wooden step I ascended, growing less prominent as I reached the second floor.

After taking a right down a short hallway, the encompassing walls littered with magnificent seashells and dried ocean flora, I turned the knob to the furthest room and entered. The floor was landscaped with mountains of clothes which drenched the room in a familiar, all-consuming smell. The scent kind of reminded me of receiving a warm hug, albeit from someone you know you should let go of in more ways than one.

His hair, golden and tousled, caught my eye as I passed the wall of string-hung polaroids in our… sorry, my bedroom. His smile was all dimpled and brilliant, and he had his tanned arms wrapped around my middle. Just moments after the picture was taken, he had tackled me into the water and rightfully earned a smack on the back of the head. In turn, he did it again.

But before that, we were both looking into the camera with the most joyful expressions—huge grins, bright eyes. Frozen in time.

I never let myself look too long at that picture anymore. And I never, ever looked into his eyes. Green used to be my favourite colour. I didn’t have a favourite colour anymore. It was safe to say I didn’t have a favourite anything anymore; everything favourable was a reminder of him.

I picked up a white knitted sweater off the ground and tugged it over my head, staining it with splotches of dark red. Knowing him, he would wear it regardless—whatever was mine, was also his, and was equally the same in reverse, even things as grotesque as blood.

Well, he would have worn it, I should have said.

The sweater had been specifically tailored for him. I remembered how the soft sleeves hugged his arms so well that every fluid curve of his biceps was visible, similar to a building wave before it crested. On me, the sleeves swallowed my arms whole, which I liked to think in their own unique way had also been unintentionally tailored for me, like someone out there knew one day I would need some way to drown in him when he was gone.

Finnick’s fingers tugged at the silk ribbons, unwrapping the opulent gift box that sat on our dining table. Capitol devotees would send extravagant parcels weekly, turning up in abundance on our doorstep. Sometimes Finnick didn’t even bother opening them; sometimes we opened them together just to get a good laugh out of whatever ridiculous item was inside.

He never, though, opened the perfume-scented letters marked with lipstick stains.

“Oh,” I said in surprise as he lifted the lid. Inside was a folded piece of fabric, knitted and cream-white and intricate, though still simple. It was soft to the touch; thick enough to retain warmth. I held it up with two hands, admiring the hand-sewed threads of cotton. Whoever’s handiwork this was, it was nothing to laugh at.

Holding it up to Finnick’s torso, I smiled and said, “Try it on.”

“What?” He shook his head and smiled quizzically. “No.”

“Yes. I think it will look good on you.” I pressed it further against him with conviction. “Try it on.”

He tilted his head and exhaled deeply through his nose, giving me a begrudging, squinty-eyed look. From that, I already knew I had won him over, and watched as he snatched the sweater from my grasp and tugged his shirt off with one hand. I averted my eyes, feeling the tips of my ears flush with heat—we’d been together for over a year now; you would think I’d have grown accustomed to seeing him shirtless.

His head slipped through the neckline and he pulled the sweater down his body. I was right. It looked really good on him. Perfect, actually. The measurements were so precise that the fabric sloped off his shoulders like a compact mountain of snow. The thick-knitted collar dipped into a deep, uneven neckline that partly revealed his chest and made his neck look like a strong, contoured pillar. He looked at me expectantly, as though to ask, “Well?”

“It makes your neck and shoulders look really nice,” I blurted out, instantly cringing inside.

His expression contorted into something of amusement and surprise as he took a slow step towards me. “My neck and shoulders, huh?” he said, grinning devilishly. Oh, now I’d done it. Leave it to me to rocket Finnick Odair’s already atmospheric ego. “Anything else?”

I began backing away, but his prowling strides were so long that the space between us only shortened. When my backside hit the edge of the dining table, I knew I was done for.

“You know,” I began, avoiding his unrelenting stare. “I think it was just a momentary lapse of judgement.” He was closing in now, placing his hands on either side of my body to trap me in place. “It—It actually looks terrible on you,” I said, feigning sincerity and adding a little nod to help further my case.

His eyelids drooped as he gazed down at me, lips curving into that seductive smirk he had mastered long ago. “No takebacks,” he purred, voice low and gravelly. Dear God, I could only pray I wasn’t going to melt into a puddle on the floor. He always did this—took every opportunity to flirt and render me a stuttering, bashful mess. It was his favourite game to play. “This is now my new favourite shirt. All thanks to you, sweetheart.”

But, given the right timing and ever-wavering amount of confidence, I liked to play too.

I inhaled deeply, hoping my voice wouldn’t betray me. “Maybe you should take it off then,” I said, cocking my head to the side. “So you don’t ruin it.”

His mischievous expression revealed his next words before he even spoke them. “Maybe I will,” he said, and then he was tugging his sweater over his head, and I was tearing off my own. As his hands slipped beneath my thighs and lifted me onto our dining table, I prayed the wooden legs wouldn’t collapse under the weight of our next actions.

My fingertips ran over the soft, rippling patterns on the knitted sleeves, my arms crossed in a self-soothing manner. After that day, the sweater had become a sort of good luck charm—or so we agreed upon as we lay panting on the tabletop. He started wearing it to a multitude of events and parties in the Capitol (basically any place in which he needed a pick-me-up, a reminder of what he had to come home to, who he had to come home to).

He even wore it the day we got engaged.

So many happy memories were associated with this one white sweater. So many times, those cloud-soft sleeves were wrapped around my body, suffocating me in the scent of him—if nothing else, at least that remained.

The last time he had worn it was the day of the Reaping for the Quarter Quell; the last time our lives were ever semi-normal. I had fought tooth and nail to reach him before he was escorted onto the train, despite being ordered, “No goodbyes,” by one of the Peacekeepers. In modest terms, I had significantly decreased his chances of reproduction.

When I reached Finnick, he had brought me into a kiss so harsh and fervent that my lips were bruised the next day. He then yanked off his sweater, leaving his upper body completely exposed to everyone around us in complete disregard for his trauma-induced fear of doing so, and shoved it into my hands.

I had just stood there frozen in bewilderment, watching as he called out, “I love you, sweetheart!” Two Peacekeepers were forcing him onto the train, but he too fought for the last word. “Don’t forget—I’m always with you!”

That statement had never been truer than it was now. For better or for worse.

My vision unblurred as I returned to reality. Dismal, grey light was peeking through the shutters that formed the balcony doors, the daylight hours seeming to tick away at a snail’s pace. I used to wish for the days to be longer, for time to move slower, so I could savour the moments I had of happiness and sunlight which used to be plentiful.

Why do wishes only come true when you grow to desire nothing but the opposite?

Slothfully, I crawled onto the unmade king-size bed, my limbs crumpling and balling to my chest as the side of my head hit the pillow. The imprint on the mattress beneath my body didn’t match my own. It was much larger and broader. How long would it take for the springs to forget his body weight and recoil back into place as though he never existed at all?

I inhaled the sweater’s scent with every breath I took (and I tried not to wonder how long it would take for his scent to disappear as well) and hugged my arms around my waist. No pain was worse than the fleeting moments I forgot the embrace was my own and not his.

Hours passed, and so did the evening. A beautiful orange sunset hadn’t slipped through the shutter’s cracks because the clouds never dissipated. Night-time brought no consolation either. Not even the stars or moon made an appearance. Everything that once gave me a shred of optimism was hidden behind a veil of gloom.

I knew tomorrow wouldn’t be any different—the weather, my mood, his absence. Because the end of autumn was closing in, and the days were becoming bleaker. Trees would start shedding their leaves; the leaves would start to die.

I hoped I would too.

I was still curled up on my side, my body aching with stiffness, when my face began scrunching into this ugly, twisted mess of despair. My tears were slow yet heavy, synonymous with the day I had incurred.

But then something strange happened.

Someone called my name.

No. That couldn’t be right. I was the only one who occupied a house in the Victor’s Village; the others had either relocated after the war or were… dead.

But there it was again—my name, distant and eerie, yet spoken with a tone people often used to beckon over and aid a frightened, injured animal. My vision blurred, both from tears and concentration on the voice.

“Hey.”

I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment my surroundings transformed into a kitchen, just that they had and that I was no longer in my bed but standing upright.

Ahead of me, in the distance, the sun was beating down on the crystalline water, and white frothy waves were cresting on the smooth, golden sand. It was a perfect day; not a cloud was in sight. The only blemish that smeared the blue sky was the reflection staring back at me from the window I gazed out of.

In my hands was a soup bowl and a damp dishrag.

“Sweetheart?” That once distant voice, concerned and beckoning, was standing right beside me.

Blinking, I snapped out of my daze and turned away from the window.

He stood tall beside me, despite being half hunched over the kitchen sink and scrubbing the last of the few dirty dishes stacked neatly on the bench top. His head was turned towards me, his enamoured sea-green eyes peering into my own as though he was searching behind them for what troubled me.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, standing up straight. His touch was warm and gentle as he reached for my hand, leaving soapy bubbles on my palm and fingers. “Where’d you go?”

Three odd things seemed to occur at once: first, I flinched away from his touch, overwhelmed by its paradoxical unfamiliar familiarity; second, I felt an inexpressible relief from seeing him standing before me, seeing his cheeks painted with a soft pink hue as though blood-red roses were hidden just beneath his skin.

The third was an onset of disorientation. I couldn’t tell you why I felt disorientated standing in my own kitchen with the love of my life, just, simply, that I did. There was an answer—it was close by, right under my nose, yet unreachable. We did this every day, didn’t we? We would eat meals together and then wash up together. So, why did I feel so unsettled?

I shook my head, dispelling the confusion that muddled my brain. “Sorry,” I whispered. “I don’t know what happened.” I laughed uneasily, without a hint of mirth.

He laughed too, not to poke fun or because he found my obvious turmoil amusing, but rather to comfort me, so I would feel less alone in my unease. “It’s alright,” he said gently.

Neither of us addressed what had happened; we simply resumed our routine of washing and drying in domestic silence. And as seconds turned to minutes, and as the sky remained sunny, I found myself smiling. All that mattered was that he was standing beside me and that the sun was beaming in the sky. So, I kept smiling.

After I finished drying the last dish, we began placing the plates, bowls, and an abundance of cutlery in their assigned drawers and cupboards, weaving past each other and giggling anytime we got in one another’s path. I was carrying a stack of white plates, eyeing the high cupboard they needed to go in, but before I could even attempt straining onto my toes, the plates were out of my hands and taken into another much larger pair.

The smell of sea salt and expensive cologne wafted from behind me as he towered over my shorter frame and placed the plates in the cupboard.

“I could have done that,” I said, smiling as I turned around to face him.

He had a playful glint in his eye. “Yeah, right. What are you, like, four feet tall?” he joked.

It was an extreme exaggeration since I was no way near that height, but I suppose everyone was miniature in comparison to him, being over six feet tall and all. I feigned open-mouthed offence, to which he gave the side of my head a quick, playful kiss of apology.

He then leaned against the counter with crossed arms. “Plus, when was the last time you actually put these dishes away? I’m surprised you even remember where they go.” He was grinning at me in a teasing manner, but every ounce of humour had drained from my body.

My eyes drifted to the floor.

Well, that was the question, wasn’t it—when was the last time I put the dishes away?

I couldn’t remember. In fact, I couldn’t remember what had happened this morning or the day before. Hell, I couldn’t even remember what we were doing before the dishes.

To be standing in a room, in a place you call home, and have a sense that nothing is in its right place, even though that is where everything has always been, is a disconcerting feeling beyond belief. To be perplexed by your own state of being—your existence—is even worse. I could almost describe it as a nauseating bout of vertigo.

My hands found the counter’s edge behind me, and I exhaled a shaky breath.

He stepped in front of me, one large and gentle hand reaching up to cup my jaw. “Are you okay?” he asked, his forehead wrinkling with shallow worry lines as he inspected my face. I hated that. I hated that I worried him so much. Sure, partners were supposed to lean on each other for support in a relationship (as he too did with me when needed), but I always felt so guilty doing so. Hadn’t he already suffered enough… pain in his lifetime? Who was I to cause him any more?

A sunbeam suffused the room, oozing across his face. The illumination lightened his eyes into a refreshing mint green, though, in contradiction, unearthed a pain that had been previously been concealed. Pain from what, I wasn’t sure. From concern regarding my unusual behaviour? Maybe a thought that was troubling him? Or perhaps he too was enduring a spell of confusion and had an inexplicable feeling that he was out of place.

Whatever his pain regarded, seeing it had rattled the deepest structures in which held my mind together.

It was then that I suddenly realised I hadn’t answered his question, so I gave him a wan “I’m-not-too-sure-myself” smile and then began slinking back to the sink window.

He followed behind me. I could feel him staring into the back of my head, could feel his brows draw together and his lips pull into a tight line, patiently waiting for a further explanation, though I wasn’t sure I could offer him one.

I hadn’t noticed before, but on the windowsill was a small picture frame containing a polaroid picture of us in bed—I was lying on his chest, half-naked and asleep, and he was looking down at me, smiling fondly yet with a sort of mischievous knowability. Running down the middle of the protective glass was a small, jagged crack.

I plucked the frame from the windowsill, inspecting the picture in my two hands. It seemed to uncover a place in my mind—once clouded by disorientation—I’d forgotten. Whether this place was real or imaginary was beyond me, but the fear I felt upon its recollection was incandescently genuine.

“Do you think,” I spoke tentatively, “people can have nightmares while they’re wide awake?” My thumb ran over the crack.

I might have heard him inhale a quiet, sharp breath, but it also could have just been the waves breaking on the distant shore. “Like a flashback?” he asked, an unidentifiable unease in his tone.

“No, not exactly.” I searched my brain for the right words, the right way to tell him how I was feeling, but it was difficult when I could only conjure vague fragments. And it was all I could do to tell it to him elliptically, as I knew saying the words in any other manner would shatter my heart.

“I had this vision,” I began, my words apprehensively staccato, “where I was somewhere else.” My eyes flickered over the picture. “Somewhere… bad. Everything was grey and heavy, and I was alone. Sometimes you were there, but you—you weren’t really you anymore.” I paused and looked up to find him staring at me in the reflection of the window. He looked pained; it was then suddenly hard to recollect a time when he didn’t. My throat started to constrict. “You were gone and…” my voice quietened to a broken wisp of wind, “you were haunting me.”

The room was silent.

He said nothing in response

The transparency of his reflection in the glass was so familiar—so haunting—and it was like another forgotten matter had been dredged from the depths of my mind. Stinging tears brimmed my waterline, and, due to my inability to bear the sight of his translucent appearance, I forced myself to turn around.

I glanced up at him, smiling weakly as I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head as if my need to apologise was nonsensical (even I was unsure of what I was apologising for), and he then pulled me into a tight embrace. His chin rested atop my head; my face was buried in his chest, and his arms held me like I was some dilapidated structure that relied on his support to remain upright. Part of me knew this sentiment was correct.

I expected his next words to be ones of consolation or reassurance, maybe an “I’m right here, sweetheart” or an “I’ll never leave you”. Instead, I felt his head turn and heard him say, “Think it’s going to storm?”

With a sniffle, I turned my head towards the window. The arms wrapped around my body tightened as if he somehow knew I would need the extra support. Because when I saw the wall of dark, opaque clouds rolling through the sky towards us, an unshakeable dread zapped through my heart.

My hands clung to the fabric of his cream-white sweater, which then brought to my attention that an inexplicable tingling sensation was spreading down the fingers of my right hand, numbing them.

Lightning flashed on the horizon, and the once serene waves began cresting violently on the shoreline. The dread grew.

Before my attention could drift too far, my name was called again.

I looked up to find those green eyes gazing down at me, swelling with tears. He was crying. Why was he crying? And why was his hair wet? His usually golden strands had darkened to a deep brown and were drenched with cold water that dripped onto my cheeks, and his hair was swept haphazardly across his forehead, a reflection of someone who had just endured an intense storm or had just been fighting for his life against a swarm of—of—

No.

My own eyes began to burn.

“It’s killing me to see you this way,” he spoke, every second word breaking and wavering in volume.

The world seemed to tilt on an axis. Return did the disorientation, ravaging my mind more violently now. “What do you”—My chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths—“What? What do you mean?” My lower lip was quivering, and my eyebrows were scrunched together in confusion. His words replayed in my head: It’s killing me to see you this way.

It’s killing me.

His hair was dripping—no longer with water, but with a thick, red substance that both dripped down and clotted on his skin. He didn’t look pained anymore; he looked like he was in pain.

It’s killing me.

But that can’t be right, can it?

It’s killing me.

Why?

It’s killing me.

Becausemy Finnickwas already dead.

I staggered backwards and out of his, no, this imposter’s arms. He stared at me as blood streamed down his forehead, pouring over his eyelashes and down his cheeks. I was going to be sick. This had to be some sort of cruel joke, a newly invented punishment from Snow. But that wasn’t right either: Snow was dead too.

“F…Fi…” I tried saying his name, my top teeth prodding the inside of my bottom lip, but I couldn’t make a sound.

He took a step towards me, and I almost stumbled onto the floor. “Remember what I told you?” he asked, though it sounded more like an urge.

I frantically shook my head. No, I didn’t remember. I didn’t want to remember anything.

Something dark and mountainous appeared in my peripheral vision, and an odious smell singed my nostrils. My head snapped to the left. Stacks upon stacks of plates and bowls mounded the kitchen sink, each crawling with maggots that were falling to the floor in white, wriggling heaps.

Nausea boiled in my stomach; horror brimmed my eyes.

I quickly turned away, my eyes meeting green again. His face was no longer stained with blood, and his hair was dry, shiny, and golden with life. I was as speechless as my face was drained of blood.

He took one more step toward me, but this time I didn’t back away, either frozen with fear or desperation for one last experience of closeness with him. My heart thrummed as he reached out to cup my face. It isn’t him, it isn’t him, it isn’t him, I repeated madly in my head. Oh, but it felt so much like him when his warm hand met my skin.

“I told you I’m always with you, sweetheart,” he murmured. And I knew engaging with him, in whatever form he took, affirmed my mental unwellness, but I couldn’t stop from leaning into his touch anyway. “Remember that.”

My cheeks were wet with tears. “I love—”

A bolt of lightning flashed, and thunder boomed throughout the house.

I was back in my bed.

My eyelids were heavy with sleep as they fluttered open. I felt detached, destabilised, and unsure of my existence in the world for I wasn’t sure which of the twoI was currently in. Real or fake?

A few minutes went by before I managed to get a grip on reality, which, in fact, was the real one. The Somewhere Bad. I pinched the corners of my eyes, not only finding them damp with fresh tears but also realising that my right hand—previously tucked beneath my head—was numb.

None of it had been real…

The entire time, my body was trying to alert me, to save me from the inescapable heartache I would feel upon waking. He hadn’t held me in his arms. He hadn’t cupped my cheek nor helped me wash the dishes. He wasn’t here. He wasn’t anywhere (not even in his own marked grave because there was nothing left of him to be buried).

Even despite seeing the familiar tall outline standing in the doorway, his features illuminated with each flash of lightning, I knew it wasn’t really him.

Rain was pummelling the roof, almost loud enough to subdue the perpetual rumbling of thunder (apart from the one sky-splitting thunderclap that had woken me). In another time, I would’ve been scared—of the raging storm, of my phantom lover who was watching from the shadows of our bedroom. But not now.

In recent months, I had found that no emotion, not even fear, surpassed the soul-crushing realisation that you have irretrievably lost the one thing you lived for.

On a defeated whim, and for the first time since his death, I let the singular, weighted word breeze past my lips.

“Finnick.”

It was a trembling plea, a desperate beckon.

And he indulged.

His footsteps were silent as he walked towards the bed. I couldn’t see his legs from my position, prompting me to wonder if he even had legs at all. Or did he only have legs when I could see them? That would then insinuate that if I couldn’t see him at all, he didn’t exist.

If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? In my case, the answer was simple: no, it didn’t.

It wasn’t really Finnick. It wasn’t even his ghost. It was my mind.

He reached the bed’s edge, and I scooted over to my side of the mattress, allowing him enough space to lie down on his. His weight neither dipped nor shook the bed as he laid down and turned on his side to face me. His eyes were sad, and I’m sure mine were too. We stared at each other for a long, long time, long enough for my fatigued body to start playing tricks on me.

If I focused hard enough, I thought I could hear the sound of his breathing (the wind was picking up outside), feel the warmth of his skin spreading onto the sheets (the remnants of my own body heat were left behind each time I moved), and smell the musky scent of cologne and sea-salted hair (the sleeves of his sweater were tucked beneath my nose).

Maybe for a moment—just one sickly, self-indulgent moment—I could pretend it was really him.

I inhaled deeply through my nose. “You really weren’t kidding when you said you would haunt the next owner of this house,” I whispered as light-heartedly as I could, my voice obscured by the heavy rain pouring onto the roof.

He smiled, and it was one of the most heart-wrenchingly beautiful things I had ever seen. I think I might have given him one in return, though I couldn’t be too sure because the concept of smiling had become so foreign. The last time I was truly happy was… the last night we spent together. In each other’s arms, safe and warm and together.

And then he was gone. Just like that.

Cressida, whom I had only spoken to once in Thirteen when the war ended, was the one to tell me how it happened. Katniss was too personal, too close to him; Peeta’s instability rendered conversation futile. So, I had asked Cressida to tell me every detail—every expression on his face, every word he screamed. I don’t know why. Maybe it was so I could cling onto those last few minutes where he was still alive and breathing, despite dying and bleeding; or so I could replay the moment over and over in my head, as if somehow, someway, I could change his fate.

“He talked about you all the time,” she had told me. “Actually, I don’t think he ever spoke of anything but you. No one minded, though. While we were out there, no one ever really smiled, but every time your name was mentioned, Finnick would get this great big grin on his face, and it was impossible not to look at him and start smiling as well.

So, we all started asking questions about you: ‘What colour is her hair? Her eyes? Where did you meet? What are her hobbies?’—just to see him smile… A week passed, and it was like we all knew you inside out. It was all we could do to hang on to some shred of happiness, even if it meant talking about a girl who, to all of us, was a stranger.”

I was inconsolable after that.

She kept talking, but my sobs had drowned out most of her words, so much that I had asked her to retell me everything later in the day, despite inducing the same outcome. So, she told it to me again, just as she did the day after that and the day after that and so on until I returned home to District Four.

“He also spoke about how you never felt comfortable living in the Victors Village. He had this idea that the two of you would move somewhere far away, outside the borders of District Four, though he emphasised remaining by the sea was very important—something about how you looked while swimming during sunset and the water was all sparkly around you.”

At this point, she had been holding my hand, knowing full well how debilitating it was for me to hear. Then she had spoken with a quiet incredulity and a facial expression to match, as though she’d never encountered a love like ours before. “He wanted to build a house for you…”

He wanted to build a house for you.

And now he never would. Our love was too ephemeral for that to happen; destined to remain history; to be a memory.

Finnick's eyes stared into mine, the green hue now a dark grey from the overshadowing dimness of the room.

“I would’ve gone anywhere with you,” I whispered to him, placing my hand on the sheets between us. “I would’ve travelled thousands of miles away from this place. Would’ve lived in solitary, just the two of us, for the rest of our lives.” A warm tear tickled the bridge of my nose. His eyebrows scrunched together in shared anguish. “God, Finn, I miss you,” my voice broke. “I miss you so much.”

I contemplated crying, sobbing, screaming, or begging for him to come back, but I was just too tired. All my energy had been spent on grievance throughout the following day, and my eyes were growing heavier by the second as my body was sinking further into a state of relaxation.

Between slow blinks, I watched Finnick’s large hand move to rest atop my own, and at that point, I knew sleep would soon catch me because I swear I could feel his warm touch.

Images flashed through my mind—incomprehensible and melting together, yet somehow still graspable.

Sky blue water rippling with calm waves, the surface glittering in the setting sun. A white stonewall cottage fronted by soft, white sand and tall palm trees. Two plates of fruit-filled yoghurt and scrambled eggs on toast. Three pairs of footprints in the sand, one larger, one smaller, and another between them so delicately tiny I could fit them into the palm of my hand.

Sea-green eyes above me. Golden hair tangled between my fingers. Finnick standing in the wooden doorway of our white stonewall cottage wearing a cream-white sweater and rolled-up slacks. Finnick grinning deeply and then throwing his head back with laughter. Finnick standing in front of our bed, taking my hand in his and guiding me towards him. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick.

Finnick holding our child.

I was between worlds now, both indistinguishable from the other. My eyelids were drooping, and I was quickly growing insensate. Just before my eyes closed completely, I saw Finnick’s—he who wasn’t really my Finnick—lips move. It wasn’t in my bleak reality in which I heard him speak, but rather in my mind, and God, did his words offer the sweetest relief.

“I’ll see you when you fall asleep.”

481 notes · View notes

tanpopomugishu · 3 months

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Finally, time to rest...

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Edit: I made a short comic as a continuation of this picture

Another version without Aziraphale's wings, and more details on his wounds under the cut.

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I love both versions and couldn't choose which one to post, so I posted both. 😁

Aziraphale is fine, after stopping yet another apocalypse, he was tired and in pain, and being around Crowley makes him feel safe enough to let go. He knows Crowley will make sure he's okay.

Also, maintaining his wings in corporeal form probably takes a lot of energy and concentration, that's why they disintegrate as soon as he loses consciousness.

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Closer look on their face

🖌

I'm tired, stressed, and ran out of good ideas. So I retreated into my favourite genre hurt/comfort!

Might need to take longer break to take care of things in real life after this 🤣

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Anxiously tagging @goodomensafterdark 🫣🫣

#good omens #good omens fanart #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #my art #hurt/comfort

386 notes · View notes

inkykeiji · 6 months

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character: valentino warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, possessiveness, toxic relationship, daddy kink, gun play, slight oral fixation, fem!reader who has unspecified piercings notes: for @sovya, who is val’s precious lil princesa ♡ and who always listens to my insane ramblings about ideas i had at exactly 6:20am hehe c: words: 687

Valentino has an interesting little quirk, you’ve come to learn; he always has to have something of his inside of you. It’s a simple fact, really. No matter what it is or where you are, a piece of him must always be within you in some way, shape, or form.

He, of course, prefers for it to be a part of his body—his fingers, his tongue, his cock—but unfortunately that isn’t always feasible.

And, of course, there are other objects that work well, too.

Sometimes it’s his gun, barrel rammed down your throat as far as it possibly can be, teeth scraping against the N of his bedazzled name as you desperately attempt to swallow more, knees sinking into the plush shag of the carpet beneath his work desk, your chin resting on his thigh as you sit at his feet. Your lips pucker tightly around the barrel as they suck, thick dribbles of saliva oozing from the corners of your mouth to drizzle off your jaw in shimmering cords, while a dutiful tongue curls around the heated metal in a protective, almost loving embrace, eager to siphon it further into your body.

Sometimes it’s one of his shiny gold rings, pressed flat under your tongue as you suck it into your flesh during your daily outings, the metal clacking daintily against your teeth while you mindlessly toy with it, the tip of your tongue hooking through the band then circling the halo in a lazy, messy outline, encrusted salt melting against your tastebuds, staining your tongue with the zest of his sweat.

Sometimes it’s his favourite bullet vibrator, soft pink silicon engraved with his full name and a smattering of cute little hearts buried deep in your cunt as you go about your day, never knowing when Val might turn it on, turn it up, but always knowing that he’s watching through the discreet cameras he had Vox plant all over your shared condo, always ready for that telltale video call that you better fucking answer right before you cum—and knowing that if you don’t, you’ll be suffering endless edging until Daddy gets home (and sometimes after that, too).

He gets off on it just as much as you do, chuckling darkly when your knees knock together and your thighs tense, a sharp gasp spilling from your throat and nails chipping as your fingers curl around the edge of the kitchen counter, tauntingly asking if something is wrong, amorcito? as his face swims into view, sadism stretched sharply across his face, eyes glowing with the knowledge that he holds all of your pleasure, all of that power, in the silky palm of his hand, controlling it with the single flick of a notch.

Sometimes it’s his custom-made heart-shaped studs and barbells, embellished with ostentatious V’s and filling all of your piercings, glinting in the late afternoon sun or heating under your clothes as he drags you from store to store, an arm tightly linked through your own—showing you off, his most cherished accessory, his prettiest prized possession, his best accomplishment.

If he has to pick a favourite, though, it’s his fingers, one of his four hands wedged between your soft thighs, two fingers stuffing your cunt full and idly stroking the silky walls as he works—writing scripts or reviewing footage—and you play—mashing buttons on your pretty pink handheld or colouring a picture for him, book folded at the spine and balancing against your bent knees, little tongue playing with the point of your fang as you concentrate.

And yet, despite the sensuality of it all, it isn’t even sexual half of the time, going far beyond the shallow pleasures of carnality. Because that secret, shared knowledge that there is a piece of him constantly inside of you—a private claim of ownership in the most intimate sense—provides a deep-seated comfort; a warm, dense calm that roots itself at the very core of your souls, that soothes anxieties and serves as a steadfast reminder: that you are owned, that he owns you, that you belong to one another, always.

#valentino x reader #valentino smut #val x reader #val smut #valentino x you #val x you #hazbin hotel smut #APOLOGIES FOR MY FUCKIN 19TH CENTURY RUN ON SENTENCES HA HA HA #inky.val #inky.hazbin

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boyfhee · 1 year

Text

⋆ OUR THING !

aka the things they do in a relationship!

pairing enhypen x gn reader genre fluff warnings teensy bit suggestive

HEESEUNG

places things on the top shelf deliberately because he just wants the excuse to walk up behind you and get that thing for you in the flirtiest way possible

you're tip-toeing with one of your arms outstretched to grab your favourite coffee mug, it's the cutest sight ever, and he's already behind you with a prideful smirk

"you can just ask me to get it for you, baby,"—he's a little too close to you, and you can feel his breath right on your neck, might as well brush his lips against your nape before muttering a quiet 'oops' as if it was accidental— "no need to trouble yourself," "and who do you think is the reason why i need to trouble myself?"— exactly your response because he put your coffee mug on the highest shelf, and yet he shrugs like he's innocent

he has no shame, he will pin your against the shelf and kiss you if he gets the opportunity ( he makes the opportunity ) simply takes the mug from your hand and puts it on the top shelf again, while his lips are on yours. coffee isn't in your fate

oh and he has also wraps his arms around you from behind when you're cooking, or doing anything, but mostly kitchen work. just something about him resting his head on your shoulder, eyes closed, as he hums a song right next to your ear, with a soft smile, swaying with you slightly to the tune, puts both of you at ease

JAY

he may not say it every time but he loves to see you in his clothes. so, picture him going through his closet and he pulls out one of his hoodies, and he's standing in front of you, putting it in front of you to see how it looks, just like mothers at the clothing stores

"hm, i knew blue was more of your colour"— every colour on the wheel is your colour if jay has it in his cupboard— "there, you can keep it," "love, that's third one this week. what are you going to wear?"— and you're genuinely concerned because half of his sweatshirts and hoodies belong to you, even a few shirts for some reason "we can always buy new ones for me"— terrible spending habits

loves to style your outfits. we know his fashion sense is over the roof so you look like a model every time you step out. actually, his goal is to match outfits with you when you go out, whether it's just a colour or a few accessories. not his fault you end up looking like you could get hired by dolce and gabbana

genuinely can't stop complimenting you. it's always him whispering 'you look beautiful,' and 'you're pretty,' and 'i can't keep my eyes off you,' in your ear with one arm around your shoulder or waist

JAKE

he's so silly and cute and smiley. he helps you with things all the time, not because he doesn't want you to tire yourself ( that is one of the reason ) but because he likes helping you around the house, whether it's with your stuff or just usual chores

also, he keeps looking at you with a smile? you'd be putting clothes in the washing machine and he's looking at you with a huge grin while also helping you. basically, it means he either wants a hug or a kiss or both

"jake-"— is deadass t-posing with a smile while standing behind you as you finish putting the clothes— "what do you want?" "what do you think i want?"— says with the same goofy and cute smile and he knows you won't say know because he's irresistible

sometimes, you'd see him at the other end of the house with same i-want-a-hug pose as soon as you return home from work or classes or whatever. then you run to hug him and pulls you in the warmest hug possible, spinning you to the slightest, kissing your cheeks. and you both just continue to hug for next five minutes

if he's in the mood, he will cup your face before you're about to hug him and pull you into a chaste kiss before hugging you. like, one time he kissed you with you were holding the laundry bucket and jake just took it and discarded it aside before pulling you closer because it was between him and you and he didn't like that. basically hugs are a must, kisses are the cherry on the top

SUNGHOON

so weird, he texts you even when you two are in the same room. you'd be sitting on the same couch, just on the opposite ends, and you can see his text notification pop up on your phone screen. he's texting probably something like 'so close yet so far' madam is a little goofy

and his texts are not normal. it's something completely unrelated, weird, maybe an old picture of himself or just some random pickup line. most of the time, he's trying to flirt with you over text

"hey gorgeous,"— his text reads, and you see a shit eating grin on his face as he sits opposite to you on the couch, typing something on his phone— "do you have a boyfriend?" "no"— you reply, and if you think saying no would do something to put an end to this insanity, you're wrong because he comes back ten times worse you can see him put his phone aside before crawling to your side of the couch, and he's almost pinning you against it— "you don't have a boyfriend?"— says with a smirk, leaning a bit closer to you, or rather your lips— "do you want one?"

look, you don't even get to say anything here because he kisses you before giving you a chance to speak. and it's not some random kiss, he's kissing you, as in taking your phone out of your hand and throwing it away to the other end of the couch, putting your arms around his neck before pulling you closer by your waist

he's kissing you with the intention of making out, which is usually his aim behind texting you from across the room

SUNOO

the ultimate sunoo headcanon i have is that you both do each other's make up. it's mostly him doing yours, says he asked his stylists for tips and he's going to try them on you. it's usually for fun, sometimes he follows a gwrm video on youtube on your request when you tell him that he's doing something wrong ( gets a bit sulky because why are you doubting his skills )

loves to do your eyeliner!!!! like he would hold your face ever so softly, carefully applying the eyeliner, saying something about how it won't be his fault if you end up looking like a ghost or something

"let me help you with the lipstick too,"— he's joking!!! and he's blushing slightly as he says that "alright,"— and now he's red. he's so nervous and flustered, and you know he's trying to laugh it off but then he looks at you again and realises that you're series "um ok,"— his heart is about to pop out of his chest

you can feel how nervous he is in the way he holds your chin, or the really flustered smile that's dancing on his lips, or in the way he backs off and leans at least five times to calm himself down

and if u peck his lips while he's helping you with your lipstick, he will literally pause. like it's so cute how easy it is so make him blush, he's probably smiling as saying how you need to stop teasing him. oh, but also, he loves to kiss your cheeks while doing your makeup

JUNGWON

wakes up at least thirty minutes before the usual time because you two end up cuddling and getting late for whatever plans you have for the day

he's punctual but also knows his mind sort of stops working when it comes to you so the moment he sees you sleeping next to him, all morals about waking up early and on time leave his body, and before he himself knows it, his arms are wrapped around your waist and he's pulling you closer to him

"maybe, we should get up,"— he says, his head still resting on yours, eyes closed, his half asleep already "definitely,"— but when you try to get out of his hold, removing his arms from around you, he just scoots even closer? like what happened to waking up early "five minutes more,"— the third 'five minutes more' so far

even if you two are awake, he will lay in bed with you, holding you close while his one arm is around you and the other is caressing your hair, occasionally kisses your cheeks while asking you about your plans for the day

most of the time you two end up sleeping again, but once he gets out of bed, he's making sure you're out of it too. would take away your blanket to force you out of bed, but it's only because he doesn't want to continue with his day without you

NI-KI

late night walks!!! he loves to spend time with you and loves it even more when you two are taking an early morning or late night with your hands interlaced together, strolling down the streets ( brings the 'it's you and me in this world' lyrics to life for him but you won't hear him say that )

"hey, let's go for a walk"— he's nudging your shoulders and would continue to do so until you wake up "it's one am,"— you think it would help you convince him but no, he doesn't care. odd timings are his things, and he would've had it another way if you didn't always give in to his requests

holds your hand and puts it in the pocket of his jacket because he doesn't want you to get old but it's only an excuse. sometimes just kisses the back of your hand while you're talking to him and asks if that makes your heart flutter. if u say no, he will kiss you randomly between words

going to the convenience store is a must. you're getting your favourite snacks and then you two are going to the swings in the park. late night escapades with him are fun and it's only a matter of time before you both are snuggled up together while sleeping on the couch

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lazycats-stuff · 7 months

Note

I remember back when i was a few months old and still using a baby walker, I'll wake up early morning but my parents will be too exhausted to get up yet so my older sister will put me in the walker in front of the TV and turn on something like national geographic or anything about animals then I'm entertained for hours(might take a stroll around the livingroom but with my eyes still on the tv) even though i understood nothing lol, can i see something like that with batfam and babybat? I feel like this is something batbros will definitely do if they're too tired to entertain their baby brother but still want to hangout with him(they just end up open mouthed staring at the tv just like the baby < Bruce's favourite site in the morning)

Oh my God, that is completely adorable. My parents also gave me a walker and I would only watch Incredibles and that would entertain me for hours.

Summary: A nice morning with the fam.

Warnings: fluff, fluffy morning, everyone loves the baby, Alfred love too... I just love the fam...

Taking care of a baby is exhausting. Any parent will tell you that. And it also takes a village to raise a child, which is also true. Very much true if you ask any parent who is dealing with a baby in a moment. (Y/N) Wayne joined the family a year ago, as a newborn whose mom didn't feel ready to take care of him.

Bruce didn't judge her for it and he happily took his son in, introducing him to the rest of the family. Everyone took a liking to the little baby and they showered the boy with affection and love. One of them made sure to be home at night, taking a break from patrol to take care of their brother for the night.

It was nice to take a break from the patrol and intense stress it brings and some could argue that taking care of a baby is more stressful, but the Wayne family had to disagree with those people. (Y/N) was an easy baby, by every single definition. He ate on time, slept on time, got a lot of cuddles and they all played with him.

All in all, it was amazing and stress free. All boys waited for their night off, alongside Bruce. Nothing could be better. Absolutely nothing could top that one night where they take care of their baby brother and their son.

But they were all exhausted beyond belief. And ever since (Y/N) has started walking, the little baby has a lot of energy to investigate. So Bruce got him a walker to that the little baby could walk around the living room and the kitchen. It's an adorable sight to see a baby just walking around like that, giggles and normal baby noise following him around.

Of course, the boys carried him all the time, just cuddling him and kiss his cheeks and head and smelling his scalp for that baby smell. Bruce had to admit, that baby smell is something interesting. He has heard of it, but he didn't think it was a real thing.

The more you know.

And for some reason, (Y/N) loves National Geographic. Maybe it's the colorful animals or just the voice of the narrator, but it made his eyes glued to the TV, mouth agape as he was watching the animals and listening to the voice, despite not understanding anything, he was glued to the TV.

So what do the brothers do when they are too exhausted to entertain their little brother, but still want to hang out with their baby brother?

They put the National Geographic on, put (Y/N) in his walker and then the four older kids just lay down on the couch and try to catch some sleep.

But that never really goes well, because they watch the animals too and they are shocked, mirroring (Y/N)'s expressions, but from a whole another reason. They were shocked by the facts and the looks of certain animals.

What the hell?

While every single child on the couch was in shock from the sheer diversity of their planet Earth, Bruce would just walk in quietly and watch for a few minutes. It was absolutely adorable and Bruce took a few photos and videos.

And those things will be the one thing he cherishes the most. He will print out those pictures and frame them on the wall one day and then put them on the wall. He smiled as he went to the kitchen where Alfred was already heating up a bottle of milk for their little bat.

Yes, the little bat was (Y/N)'s nickname. And yes. Bruce has made it happen.

Alfred handed the warm bottle to Bruce who made his way to the living room, taking (Y/N) into his arms and then putting him in his lap, making sure he could still the TV and then giving him his bottle to eat and be full.

The older boys didn't even bat an eyes as their brother was being fed.

" Do you see this old man? " Jason asked Bruce, not even taking his eyes off of the TV.

Bruce chuckled and nodded. " Yes, animal world is an interesting world. "

Damian tilted his head, mouth agape from the sights on the TV. (Y/N)'s eyes were still on the TV, but were closing from the feeding. Feeding often made him relaxed and sleepy, no matter what time of the day it is.

Bruce gently rocked his son as he finished feeding and then burped him. Bruce cooed at his son and then put him back into his walker. His five sons were still in trance while watching the National Geographic.

" What the hell is going on? " Tim asked as he tilted his head, eyes wide as he watched in shock.

Dick moved closer to the edge of the couch, trying to see in more detail. Bruce smile and took (Y/N) into his own arms, cuddling with the baby, gently kissing his head. (Y/N) cooed and laugh and Damian stood up, coming closer to the screen.

" What is going on here? " Damian asked as he observed the screen and animals on it.

" Now I see why (Y/N) is so in love with National Geographic. So many colors and the voice of the narrator is really nice too. " Damian said and moved to Bruce to take his brother into his arms. Both half brothers looked at the screen in wonder.

The love from animals seems to go deep in this family it seems. Everyone loves animals and the estate is slowly turning into an animal shelter. Bruce didn't mind it at all.

At that moment, Titus walked to Damian, snout sniffing (Y/N)'s socks. (Y/N) giggled from the sensation and Damian lowered down the baby so that Titus can sniff (Y/N), but not the face and hands. Titus huffed and hoped on the couch, laying his body over Tim and Jason who petted the big dog.

" Did you take Titus out for a walk Damian? " Bruce asked and Damian nodded.

" Yes I did. He did everything he needed to do and we played with his ball. " Damian explained and cooed at (Y/N), giving him a kiss on the head afterwards.

" He is just adorable. " Damian said as he held his brother and sat down on the couch. (Y/N) closed his eyes and just relaxed, almost going to sleep.

Alfred smiled from the kitchen and ever so discreetly walked over to the living room and snapped a picture for himself. It would go in his private folder, one with all pictures with his grandsons and Bruce. But this was a new folder, made in (Y/N)'s honor.

He never had a chance to have his own, biological family, but families are not bounded by blood. Families are bound by a sense of loyalty, love, support... That's what a family is all about. Alfred put his phone away and sat down on the couch, squeezing himself in with everyone.

It was cramped, but it was more cozy and more intimate. The boys greeted Alfred with smiles, but their eyes never left the screen. It seems that (Y/N) greeted him too, arms reaching out for Alfred, who took his youngest grandson into his arms, kissing his cheek.

" This is a nice morning. No one is rushing, everything is peaceful... We need more morning like this. " Alfred said and everyone has agreed to it.

They truly need more mornings like this... Alfred glanced down at his grandson, who was looking at him with his big baby eyes. Alfred sighed and smiled, kissing his cheek and wrapping him in a warm blanket to keep him warm.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #bruce wayne x male reader #batfamily #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

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sterredem · 2 months

Text

Folkmore

F1 grid x singer!driver!reader

Face claim Taylor Swift

Warning not proofread, spelling mistakes

Summary after the success of RED y/n still isn’t done with music.

Part 1

A/N I wrote this in the middle of the night in a few hours so it isn’t the best. Also I made a few of the things myself so it isn’t the best. And y’all are getting spoiled with 2 fics on the same day:)

Instagram

Liked by LewisHamilton and 5.836.836 others

Yourusername Another great race in Hungary! P2 for the team! A quick break before Spa. I’ll take that time to work on some fun things got y’all😉 Also congrats to Oscar for the win!

View all 976.836 comments

Scuderiaferrari Great job Y/n👏

Charles_Leclerc another great race indeed💪

OliviaRodrigo multi talented queen

SabrinaCarpenter One of the first f1 races I have ever seen. I was STRESSING watching it. Great job love!

User1 You can’t just announce that either those covers and then go on like nothing is happening😭😭

User2 P2 LETS GOOO

User3 it’s so funny ti see that after she released the album she suddenly has millions more followers and millions more likes on her post. Proud of you queen

User4 Fun things????

User5 gorgeous

User6 The car is looking great

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Instagram

Liked by BonIver and 9.735.836 others

Yourusername Another suprise! While I was writing RED about my own experiences I also needed an escape from the real world, so I wrote this album. This is an album full of tales about characters that I made up in my head. Thank you to all the people that helped me write this and helped me make my dream come true. This is also an album that unlike the other one Is filled with poetry (I have always loved that). So I would recommend that if you want the full experience that you hold a dictionary close to you. I hope you will all love this as much as I do. Folklore is out now🩶

View all 696.836 comments

BonIver I had a great time making this with you🩶

Charles_Leclerc another great piece of art

LewisHamilton Your creativity never fails to amaze me

Landonorris just in time, I was beginning ti search for new music

OscarPiastri It’s insane that you know words that I have never heard of and that you aren’t even a native English speaker

User1 WHAT?!? HAHSNUSGENAIHAHH

User2 This is just… I have no words

User3 these song are just…… I am so amazed at how amazing this is

User4 tho sis just the most amazing mix of hard destroying songs and a teenager in love

User5 going from red to this is insane but also so understandable (mostly with some of the songs on red)

User6 just imagine these songs live……

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Instagram

Liked by Scuderiaferrari and 5.826.836 others

Yourusername Not the results we hoped for but in the points nonetheless. See you next Singapore.

View all 646.726 comments

User7 you’ll get back up soon

User8 this caption is so sad and then you have the happy Y/n pictures from the folklore photo shoot

User9 perfect human

User10 Ferrari is really disappointing these last few races

User11 I am loving the aesthetic

User12 Why haven’t we heard of a contract extension yet??? What is this Ferrari?? She is on Eid the best drivers on the grid!

User13 Y/N WOTLD DOMINATION!!

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Instagram

Liked by Charles_Leclerc and 8.736.256 others

Yourusername Folklore the long pond studio sessions out now on Disney plus. This is a documentary that shows the story behind every wingman’s a live version of all the songs. The songs will also be on Spotify soon! I hope everyone will enjoy it and will enjoy knowing the story’s behind every song🩶

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OliviaRodrigo A masterpiece might I say

SabrinaCarpenter One of the best movie I have ever seen

LewisHamilton Every time I see something you have created it amazes me more and more

Charles_Leclerc You always hit with the things you make Y/n

Landonorris My new favourite movie

User1 A MOVIE?!?!

User2 I have never been happier that I have Disney plus!!

User3 On Spotify too?! And the vocals are just INSANE

User4 the love triangle is my favourite thing ever

User5 Y/n drinking red whine just makes so much sense. I can’t explain it

User6 besides the point but I just love that the drivers are supporting her

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Instagram

Liked by Haim and 9.836.826 others

Yourusername Triple surprise! After writing folklore (and red) I just couldn’t stop. So I didn’t. And this is what came from that. The sister album of Folklore; Evermore! This is again an album of tales that I have made up in my head, but there are also a few songs that are very close to my hard. One for example being Marjorie, this song is about my grandmother that has sadly passed away, and the song explains the rest. This album is very close ego my hard. I thank the poeple that have helped me make this and I hope you all like it as much as I do🤎

View all 827.836 comments

LewisHamilton I am once again proven wrong with your amazing writin and story telling

SelenaGomez What a lovely album🤎

Haim it was an honour working with you

Honeymoon I am proud to say that I was a fan before red🤎 amazing job Y/n

Landonorris you killed it (literally)

OscarPiastri Crying in the floor atm

Charles_Leclerc another emotional rollercoaster

MaxVerstappen1 What a piece of art Y/n

User7 I’m claiming right where you left me

User8 ANOTHER ALBUM?!?! I’ve just come by from red and folklore (not that I’m complaining)

User9 my fav sisters; folklore and evermore 🩶🤎

User10 no body, no crime is so unhinged and I love it

User11 all Gina dj stuff but where is the contract extension announcement?!?!

User12 SO PROUD!!

User13 my little indie artist🤎🩶

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Instagram

Liked by Charles_Leclerc and 6.826.836 others

Yourusername I am very bittersweet to announce that this will be my last season in Formula 1. While I am very happy that I have gotten this opportunity, and while I still really enjoy it. I think it is time for me to step off. I know I am still considering young(with being 24) but with my other hobby’s and career I have devoted that it would smartest if I focus on my music career. I will finish this season(hopefully with a championship) and then I will retire. I which the best of luck to the team and to Charles and for my replacement for the next year. Thank you all for the support and I love you all❤️

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Lewishamilton it was an amazing time racing against you❤️

Charles_Leclerc it was an honour to be your teammate. I which you the best with your career

Landonorris I had a lot of fun racing alongside you. I which you the best in the future

User1 NOOOOO

User2 OMG?!?! IS THIS EHY FERRARI HADNT ANNOUNCED ANYTHING??

User3 I am sad that she will leave f1 but I am also happy because MORE MUSIC!

User4 wait could this maybe mean… a tour??

User5 I cried while watching this video

User6 We such you the best!

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Instagram

Liked by Scuderiaferrari and 7.464.375 others

Yourusername Thank you all so much for all the support these last few years. This was my last race in Formula 1, and it was a win. I am so grateful for all the people that made this dream possible! This will not be the last time you see me, just the last time you see me on the track. Again, thank you all so much for supporting me in this dream. And good luck Ollie, I know your going to do it great in Ferrari❤️

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LewisHamilton Have a great retirement y/n/n

Charles_Leclerc it was an honour racing alongside you

Landonorris we will miss you

OscarPiastri I may not have driver with you for long but I which you all the best with music

Maxverstappen1 Have an amazing time and I which you the best of lunch with the music

User7 We Will miss you Y/n!

User8 I was crying when I watched her the last few laps of the race😢

User9 all the driver congratulating her at the end had me tearing up

User10 Forza Ferrari!!

User11 this is so bittersweet

User12 MY FAVOURITE EX-DRIVER

User13 this what’s such an emotional race

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Instagram

Liked by Phoebebridgers and 9.836.836 others

Yourusername I am delighted to announce my brand new (and first) tour! Y/n Y/l/n | The Eras Tour, a journey through my last 3 eras. International dates will be announced as soon as I can and thank you to all the amazing singers that will go with me on this tour🫶

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Instagram

Liked by Charles_Leclerc and 11.376.635 others

Yourusername What an amazing first show! I am shocked at how good you all know the songs! This is the first show of many to come!

Comments are disabled

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No part3. This is the end.

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starrynights-sunnyskies · 5 months

Text

as the flowers bloom, my heart does too ⋆*·ﾟmisa x putellas!femreader, social media au, (6/-)

⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ

when your relationship ends and all you want to do is hide and cry, flowers suddenly start to appear on your doorstep.

or; misa hating to see a pretty girl cry and suffer and going out of her way to cheer her up while staying anonymous

fic: see my masterlist 🤍

⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ

albaps9: las mujeres más importantes de mi vida. mama, ale y mi chiquita ynn 💘 (pretend you're on here pls 😭) Liked by yourusername, alexiaputellas, marialeonn16 and 703 others

○○○○○○○

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marialeonn16 And still Yn is my favourite putellas 🤪 ↳ yourusername i like you

bff1 my second family!! 😍 ↳ albaps6 yeah you're the deranged cousin liked by yourusername

alexiaputellas My entire world in one picture 😊 ↳ albaps6 minus nala 🤣 ↳ yourusername wtf what about your girlfriend?????? ↳ alexiaputellas She's my entire universe. liked by yourusername ↳ albaps6 🤢

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marisabel_rguez: What's up? 🧤 Liked by sofie.svava, marialeonn16, bff3 and 12,377 other

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yourusername the sky ↳ bff1 i was just about to say that 😭 ↳ bff2 our friend group has four braincells in total, you both sometimes have none of those ↳ bff3 @/bff2 I wholeheartedly think you should give the two of us a little more credit than having only four? ↳ username1 oh hey y'all 🤔

yourusername i love seeing you in dark blue 😍 liked by marisabel_rguez ↳ yourusername oh and i'd say break a leg for the next match, but pls don't ): ↳ marisabel_rguez Everything better than your heart. This comment is no longer available ↳ bff1 yikes no, break her bed instead. This comment is no longer available

jennihermoso Siiiiii

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Text Message

m 💌 And aaaah you know what I love to see you in? Black! (or nothing) 😊 you somehow i knew this crossed your mind the second i commented m 💌 We know each other too well now, jajaja. you quick! think fast! what word am i thinking of? m 💌 Daisies? you ohhh valid, one of my favourites! m 💌 I know. you but no, cannoli of course m 💌 🙃😉🙂 you misa i will actually slap you m 💌 I'm stronger you i'm scrappy and grew up fighting with alba m 💌 Fair 😅 m 💌 I'm glad she forgave us faster than Alexia did. She's scary. you yea she looks all bark and no bite but she BITES. literally. still have a scar on my finger. m 💌 I need you to tell me that story one day. m 💌 So, do you bite too? Because I might be into that. you i think that you should know such things as my girlfriend 👋 m 💌 Aha... well, don't blame me. If we'd lived together I would have known 'such things' and more. you 😔 m 💌 I know. I miss you too. I wish we could live together though. you my work's here, love. i can't leave. and i don't think i can be without my family and friends just yet. i need them close. and you'll be busy all day and i know no one in madrid. m 💌 I know, I would never ask that of you. I just wish I could be around you more. Maybe I'm greedy or dramatic. I don't know. m 💌 I'll take the train to Barcalona as soon as I can. you no, my love. you already travel and work too much. i don't want you straining your mind and body, you have to take care of it. and you were here last time. i'll come when i can. m 💌 Alright, I know there's no talking you out of it, is there? you nope 😘 m 💌 Promise I'll see you soon? you promise! you i've got to run now. you better wear something dark blue next time i see you, byeeeee, i love you. m 💌 You better wear black or maybe just don't wear anything at all. Bye, querida, I love you more.

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yourusername: missing you 🌼🖤 Liked by marisabel_rguez, sofie.svava, ingridengen and 7,328 others

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bff2 amorrrrrr 🤗

sofie.svava a literal angel!! inside and out <3

janafernandez3 😍

alexiaputellas Muy guapa, laelia 💘

username1 Okay does that mean the anonymous flower sender has been you-know-who all this time? ↳ username2 WHAT, i'd almost forgotten about that! omfg! probably!! ↳ username3 what use does voldemort have buying flowers when he can't smell them

ingridengen Muy bonita 😚

liekemartens Liefie!!

salmaparalluelo The flowers!!?? ↳ yourusername 😇 ↳ ona.battle TELL US

username3 Okay 🔥

albaps9 hotshot 😎

username4 You? Who's you, ma'am?

marisabel_rguez Wearing black? ↳ yourusername yea, i was told i look good in it! ↳ marisabel_rguez Si, pero.... ↳ yourusername 🤫

bff1 ☺️

marialeonn16 My tiny laeliaaa 😊

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albaps9: hola, espwnt's biggest fans have touched down! (ft olga & yn 😗✌️) Liked by alexiaputellas, marisabel_rguez, jennihermoso and 783 others

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yourusername i'm still mad you stole my window seat ↳ albaps9 my luggage was lost for a day, so who wins?

marisabel_rguez 🤗🤝

marialeonn16 Missing you all!

alexiaputellas 🤩

alexiaputellas My favourite cheerleaders!

jennihermoso Oh great, now we'll definitely win with you clowns in the stands 😂 ↳ albaps9 😲 ↳ albaps9 be grateful we're here for you all!!!! ↳ alexiaputellas (They're only here for me, but sshh) liked by marisabel_rguez

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yourusername: 😊🇪🇸 Liked by alexiaputellas, liekemartens, marisabel_rguez and 4,398 others

liekemartens Next time we'll get you 😉🦁 ↳ yourusername you said that the last three times as well 🤭

marisabel_rguez Our good luck charm all day every day!

alexiaputellas My very own lucky charm since day one 🙂

albaps9 just a normal night of wag duties, hm? liked by 12 others

username1 lol ale and misa

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yourusername: 🖤 Liked by begovargas, alexiaputellas, sofie.svava and 1,293 others

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bff1 🖤 ↳ bff3 🖤 ↳ yourusername 🖤 ↳ bff2 🖤

begonavargas ily ❤️

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marisabel_rguez: Do you think it suits👔me? Liked by yourusername, haleyraso, bff2 and 16,352 others

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username1 the dad joke? no. the suit? HELL YES.

username2 🤤

username3 OOOOOh!!!

yourusername joooooder, dios mio! what the fuck!! This comment is no longer available ↳ yourusername WHY am i seeing this NOW? This comment is no longer available ↳ yourusername hostia puta, que es esto misa??? oye?? diga me! This comment is no longer available ↳ albaps9 oh now you've done it, you broke her 🤣 @/marisabel_rguez

↳ yourusername mami chula??? 😩📞 This comment is no longer available liked by marisabel_rguez ↳ alexiaputellas Callate, dios mio! You're embarrassing yourself. ↳ albaps9 you mean embarrassing you? 🤥 ↳ alexiaputellas Hmpf. Misa, I see that like. 🤨 liked by marisabel_rguez

username3 give me a gf who will drool over me like yn 😪

sofie.svava Looking gewd!

username4 Not Yn's fantasy coming to fruition 😂

username5 Yn's one moment away from saying i do lmaooo ↳ username6 At least Misa's already suited up 👀💍 ↳ username7 can you blame her??? ↳ username8 Looks like Alexia won, comments went ✨poof✨

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yourusername: recap of week 69 Liked by begovargas, albaps9, marisabel_rguez and 1,293 others

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albaps9 perdon?? como?? que???? 69-?? fucking hormonal teenager. what's up with you lately 🤣 ↳ albaps9 change the caption before ale sees it and the real fun starts

marisabel_rguez uuff 🤒

marisabel_rguez But don't lie...that was last week, no? ↳ yourusername oh yeah, whoopsies ↳ bff1 🕯escucha las palabras de las brujas de los secretos escondidos de la noche- 🕯

alexiaputellas The age I'll never reach because of the headaches you give me with captions and photos like these. ↳ yourusername disculpe 😇 ↳ alexiaputellas Sigh, you're happy, that's all that matters.

begovargas You cheek 🤣

janafernandez3 Prettyyyyy ✨

bff2 what was even the reason for that caption? 😆 ↳ bff3 It's time to buy a bigger freezer to put her in and help her cool down.

marialeonn16 How was the pizza? ↳ yourusername delish because it was made with love 😊

bff1 wiggle wiggle wiggle ↳ bff1 i still think my butt’s better

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↳ 5h ago: yourusername added to their story

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Direct Message

alexiaputellas Put your phone away, por favor YN. Safe travels, answer me when you get there and not earlier unless you need me ❤️

albaps9 vroom vroom go to your woman!!! 😊

marisabel_rguez Are you serious??? marisabel_rguez Wait if you left five hours ago, you'll be here so soon already?? marisabel_rguez Y/N!!! 😱 marisabel_rguez Fuck I love you so so so much, amor. marisabel_rguez And I love that sweater on you 😭 yourusername i know 😉 marisabel_rguez No, please don't text me until you're here, okay? I'd like to have you as my girlfriend for as long as I can. Be safe. Delivered.

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a/n: happy weekend everyone, here are some flowers to brighten your days! 🌼🌻🌸🌼🌻🌸🌼🌻🌸

#misa rodriguez x reader #misa rodriguez one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso social media au

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